#don't ask her why she wants people to think she's not going to die alone with 12 cats

[bxtonpxss]

Part of her is very relieved that Daisuke seemed to be taking everything well so far. The other part was worried he'd find her a bit weird or even troublesome to be around due to her affiliation with such a dangerous place. "Mm, perhaps it was named after the flower? Some did grow on the island though." She didn't quite understand what the big deal could be about the island name.

"Er... no? I mean, I don't think I've done enough to be considered a criminal?" She responds before an odd sense of deja vu washes over her again. It's like she's had a conversation like this before and stares thoughtfully at Daisuke for a long moment before shaking the feeling off.

“No, given the circumstances, Nadeshiko Island really was the safest place for me.” She admits with a small shake of her head, gentle smile following as she adds, “Thank you, Niwa-san—but truly, it’s nothing. Protecting those who can’t protect themselves… It’s simply the right thing to do.” Upon being asked what she needed to be protected from, she pauses again. "Ah… well that's another complicated story." Where did she even begin?

"When I was eight years old, I was brought to Sasaka Castle because I looked exactly like the country’s princess, Onihime. Her advisors wanted me to serve as her kagemusha—a body double. I agreed to go along with their plan, but only because I intended to kill her the moment I got close." Neya's gaze is far off as she begins to recall her past.

"Onihime was the face of our country’s suffering; she was the reason my family and so many others were dead. Except… the moment our eyes met, she smiled at me and called me her guest, then she scolded her advisors for presenting me to her in chains and covered in dirt. I couldn't believe it at the time, and from that moment on, we were raised together."

"As the years passed, I was trained to speak, think, and act exactly like Onihime. The only way to even tell us apart was the crescent-shaped birthmarks on the backs of her wrists. During my time in the castle, I eventually came to learn that Onihime wasn’t the monster everyone thought she was. She was innocent. Her parents died when she was young, so she was raised by the castle lords and advisors. They taught her: If you want it, take it. If they complain, kill them. That's all she knew; no one ever taught her right from wrong."

"I tried to explain things to her sometimes, but she couldn't understand why certain things were wrong. Meanwhile, the lords in the castle would twist her power for their own gain, using her name to pass cruel laws, harm people, and hoard wealth. When a few servants uncovered the truth, they were executed publicly on false charges.

Eventually, the people of Sasaka had had enough. Tired of the lies, the cruelty, and the failings of the government, they stormed the castle, destroying everything and killing everyone inside. Everyone… except for me and Onihime. We'd hidden away. Clinging to me, she asked me if we were going to die. I told her no, and promised I’d protect her. With the liars gone, I believed she could finally be free now. So I was willing to die in her place; that was my role as her double after all.

But Onihime wasn’t ready to let me go just yet; she wasn't prepared, so she asked if we could do it the next day. I agreed." Neya frowns sadly, feeling her chest tighten painfully at the memory. "The next morning, I woke up alone. Onihime was gone; she’d surrendered herself and was burned at the stake. The cheers of the villagers were so loud that day. I was devastated and remember wandering the ruins of the castle in a daze until a former servant who knew who I was found me. They helped smuggle me out of the country and sent me to Nadeshiko Island since it wasn’t safe for me to stay in Sasaka anymore, especially not with the face of a dead princess."

he must look absurd --- staring dumbfounded at her for confessing to having been on an island full of criminals and exiles . because it was neya , who he had never once suspected and always thought of as a good and innocent person ( better than his own self , at least , ) or because the island's unsavory existence was confessed so easily , or even because --- ' they named a place like that nadeshiko ?! '

it's like all of his , err , dark's ideas of thinking her the perfect yamato nadeshiko had suddenly been confirmed by reality ... ! no doubt if the fact ever came to light that dark himself would end up in hysterics . daisuke could practically hear the peals of roaring laughter already , braced and expecting a giddiness that only thuds away inside of his own heart .

it's only after her pause that his own building sentiment likewise halts . ' er , wait , so you aren't a criminal ... ? ' although his voice sounds strictly curious , what was with this faint sense of disappointment ? he hadn't wanted her to be one in the first place ! ' i can't believe they'd send you to a place like that for safety . wouldn't it have been even more dangerous than anywhere else if it was an exile prison ? '

he imagines it full of bulky , brutal , bloodthirsty sorts . the pre-modern era yakuza ... like samurai with all sorts of bizarre vendettas . in the end , daisuke's left watching the other in stark wonder . ' still , working that hard to protect everyone and make sure they had everything even if you weren't a criminal yourself ... that's really amazing . you're incredible , muito-san ! um , wait ... but who's "they ?" and what in the world did you have to be protected from in the first place --- ? '

[kcgarashi]

fake dating plot but only because rera gets invited to all the weddings and needs a date so she can pretend she's happy and successful

[kneelbeforeclefairy]

What I think is most different and most striking about Sunrise on the Reaping is how CYNICAL it is. To some extent we knew it was going to be. This is a midquel. That the reapings go on and the Hunger Games only ends 25 years later is a forgeon conclusion. We know nothing that happens here is going to work.

The book is about implicit submission, and why, with numbers on their side, the many submit to the few, even when the few are unjust. And it's because, the book seems to say, numbers aren't ENOUGH. the Newcomers alliance is much bigger than the Careers. They should be able to team up and defeat them easily. But they don't. Eighteen of them are killed outright, because the Careers have the strength, the skill and the training. And that's just that.

Plutarch asks why the tributes don't overwhelm the Peacekeepers during training, and Haymitch is rightfully outraged at the privilege of this question. Why don't they? Because they probably couldn't kill them all, and even if they could, what good would it do? It wouldn't stop the Hunger Games. It wouldn't change a thing. No one would even know about it outside that room, because the Capitol would change the narrative. Just like Katniss and the Star Squad can't REALLY take on the Capitol single handed and assassinate the president, the scrappy alliance of kids can't really do any real damage to the system the Capitol has in place. All they can do is choose if they want to die now or later. So why don't they, if there's no difference to them, as Plutarch asks. Because, as Snow puts it. Hope. The slight chance that one of them will come out of it. And, more cynically, the hope that if they are good tributes and obey, their families will be left alone. If they choose to rebel and choose to die now they guarantee retaliation against their families and perhaps their entire district. We see that even in the tributes that attack the Gamemakers in the arena. They rise up, they break that bond of implicit submission--and they die bloody for it.

Why don't they rebel? Because they don't have the privilege to lose.

Even Lenore Dove, the Joan of Arc of Twelve, fails to do any real damage or have any real effect. All she does is get herself a reputation for being a trouble maker, and eventually get herself killed. Was she killed as part of the retaliation against Haymitch, or was her punishment because she's a rebel, and that's what happens to rebels? (and Snow hates covey girls.) but she fails because she IS alone. She focuses on small, symbolic acts that do nothing, but that she hopes will rally the people to action.Unfortunately, the people of Twelve don't want their lives to get any worse, and they don't have the privilege of spending time and energy on revolution the way a teenager girl whose family doesn't need her income to survive does--sadly, Twelve will remain this way, in an uncanny valley where they're beaten down enough to need change, but not enough to have NOTHING to lose. They are not one of the districts that rise up. So acting alone does nothing, teaming up does nothing. How does one fight an enemy with better technology, better weapons, and better organization? Beetee's plan doesn't work out. Of course it doesn't. Could it ever? Was it just borne out of grief for his son? And even if it had, then what? What was the plan? Haymitch's poster gets edited away. The Newcomers fail. Lenore Dove dies. The most you can say is Haymitch himself becomes too important to kill, like Beetee, and Snow let him live to fight another day, but so destroyed that he no longer WANTS to.

So, then, what WORKS?

The answer is, quite cynically, Plutarch's version of the world. Numbers mean something, there are more of US than there are of THEM , but that isn't enough. You need weapons, you can't bring a knife to a gun fight, you need EVERYONE on your side. You need organization, not just a series of disconnected rebellions, and you need an Army, provided by Thirteen, as problematic as they are. The timing just needs to be right. And most crucially, what I think Plutarch and everyone involved here learned is that victory belongs to those who control the narrative. Those who control the flow of information and tell their story. And it's not Plutarch, for all his cameras and his propos and his idea behind The Mockingjay, who eventually does that well.

It's Haymitch.

Who learned to tell a story and sell a narrative with himself and the Newcomers. Who tried to paint his poster in the arena only to see it rewritten in front of him. Who won't make that mistake again. When it's time for the deciding factor in the revolution, it's Haymitch who creates the Mockingjay-- and is he also using Katniss and her image? Yes. but he at least sees Katniss and the human she is inside it, unlike Plutarch who hasn't changed much from the man who makes a grieving family do reshoots over and over so he can get his footage, while congratulating himself for letting Haymitch have his goodbye.

When Katniss sets off the spark twenty five years later, the world is ready. The work is in place. Plutarch, Haymitch, Beetee, everyone can say GO , and this time it'll work. So buckle in, and wait for the Long Game, even though only Plutarch really has the privilege to wait, the rest of them don't have a choice. It's cynical. It's awful. People die. The lone rebels and the plucky girls and the alliance depending on its numbers all fail. Plutarch motherfucking Heavensbee, the richest of the rich the privilegedest of the privileged, pulls off the revolution, takes the credit, and lives to see the end of it, without ever once examining his own privilege, and unpacking the fact that despite his head being on the right side of history, he's never managed to see the Districts as PEOPLE . (and you could argue, ANYONE as people. ) But it's just the only way.

But this book isn't the middle of the series. It's the end. How awful would it be to read if we didn't know that Katniss and the Mockingjay rebellion would eventually succeed. We know that despite the cynism of a failed revolution and all its players, that one day it WILL work out. This book is called sunrise on the Reaping....the sun rises on a world where this is inevitable. But one day it won't be.

[arminsumi]

★ Satoru's undercut

★ Synopsis : He fears the hairdresser like it's the dentist. One day, he accidentally gets an undercut style. He would have thrown a tantrum if it weren't for your positive response — because all he really cares about is that you enjoy his haircut.

★ Content : soft fluff, romantic tension, some mutual pining??

★ Library ★ reblog for a cake slice! 🍰

"This will ruin my life..."

"It will not ruin your life."

"I'm gonna die!"

"You're not gonna die."

"Yes, I'm gonna die! They're gonna cut my head off."

"They're not gonna cut your head off."

Satoru had a haircut appointment which you were accompanying him to as per his desperate demand request. Suguru was there also, helping Shoko with something technical on her phone. He laughed when Satoru was whining to you.

The four of you were on the train; Suguru and Shoko stood tightly packed with their backs facing other people as if they were the group shield. And Satoru sat next to you, clinging to your arm as if he were a kid on his way to the dentist.

"Don't laugh. You know I feel the same about hairdressers as people feel about dentists!" he pouted.

"Satoru, you're so weird." you said.

“I'm not!”

You shook your head at him. Satoru grumbled.

"No one understands me!" he said dramatically.

Suguru commented, "I do understand why you dislike hairdressers, Satoru; most of them don't cut your hair how you want."

Shoko nodded and chimed in, "— yup, and you usually leave with a fake smile and say "oh wowww... I love it!" but you actually hate it." then she went back to frowning at her phone with Suguru.

“My hair is important, I can't afford to have a bad haircut." Satoru said.

"Haha, you make it sound like if you have a bad haircut it could cost you millions." you laughed.

Satoru sat up straighter and spoke seriously, "It may as well cost me millions!"

You didn't understand why Satoru was being so dramatic.

****

The hairdresser looked at you, Shoko and Suguru and then wondered why so many people were accompanying this grown man to his haircut, as if he were about to get a root canal for the first time.

Suguru whispered into her ear, and she blushed at his alluring charm like anyone would.

"He's scared of bad haircuts... so please do your best, he has a girl to impress. See that one sitting there?” Suguru pointed to you, “Yeah, that's the one."

He accidentally flustered her, and he smirked about it when he returned to you and Shoko.

"Suguru, your head looks as big as a bubble about ready to pop." you joked, noticing his smug demeanor as he took a waiting seat with you.

"I think I just flustered the hairdresser on accident." he said.

Shoko chuckled, "Is it ever an accident? I think you do it on purpose — oh, Y/n, I think Satoru is trying to get your attention. Give him some comfort."

Satoru recoiled when the cold blade of the scissors touched his neck, and looked distressed when the hairdresser touched his hair.

You knew he was highly sensitive to touch, especially his hair — he hated people touching his hair (reason X for hating hairdressers). The only person who was allowed to touch his hair was you. Suguru and Shoko needed a "valid reason" for touching Satoru's hair.

But you could comb your fingers through his hair any time, any place for no reason and Satoru would go limp with a smile on his face, completely melting for the act of affection.

Sometimes when it was just you and him alone together in his apartment, especially during his sleepless nights, Satoru would lay his tired head on your lap and ask you to play with his hair. Each stroke of your hand mellowed him out. He especially loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair when it was fluffy and long.

So really, he feared not the hairdresser or even the bad haircut, but the fact that it might be too short or not fluffy enough for you to enjoy. It had to be just right. He had to maintain his fluffy hair for you.

He wanted to make sure that when you saw him at every party and get-together, you'd think "Wow, Satoru's hair looks so good.". He wanted you to compliment his hair and make him feel good and blushy.

And most of all, he just wanted to please your eyes. He wanted you to be starstruck when you looked at him.

So, a good haircut was critical.

****

Satoru's panic calmed after you took the empty seat next to him. He watched in admiration as you struck up a friendly conversation with the hairdresser. She turned out to be kind. She was an apprentice (picture nervous Satoru stiffening his shoulders when he learned this) and her mother owned the establishment next door.

Satoru was mostly quiet and focused on his reflection in the mirror. He squinted in suspicion when the lady brought out a hair buzzer.

But then you distracted Satoru by asking about what the four of you were doing after this. He stuttered a bit, half-looking at the hair buzzer and jumping a little when it turned on.

You talked so much that Satoru was completely distracted, and the lady could work. Though, it was hard, because Satoru didn't really specify what he wanted... so she winged it.

She thought hey, this guy would look good with an undercut. So, she cut an undercut for Satoru, and looked at you and smirked. His girlfriend will appreciate it, she thought as she looked at you and Satoru talking with hearts in your eyes.

You weren't his girlfriend. But you may as well have been. The two of you were anyways soulmates since kindergarten. Sure, you went away for five years to work abroad, but the link between you and Satoru wasn't broken by the distance.

****

Satoru gasped and nearly fainted when he saw how short his hair had been buzzed at the bottom. His neck felt exposed and suddenly it felt more drafty.

"What the—"

"— oh, you look hot, Satoru." You said.

He immediately shut up and went red in the face.

"Thanks, yeah it looks... yeah." Satoru hesitantly complimented the hairdresser's work.

She beamed proudly and wrapped up the haircutting session. Satoru took off the black dressing gown and stood up and shimmied the white hair off his pants.

"The cat is shedding." you joked, making Satoru grin with sealed lips.

You picked a white strand of his hair off the back of his shirt when he stood in line to pay at the checkout. He didn't notice. Such a cute boy.

Satoru was just grumbling to himself about how he'd need a scarf or turtleneck to compensate for his "practically naked" hairstyle now.

You stared at his undercut and felt your heartbeat get a bit frantic.

Then you kept staring as you left the barber shop.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders out of habit, as if he were your boyfriend, so the hairdresser felt sure that you two were dating and said something as you two left that really made you and Satoru blush;

"Your girlfriend loves it." she winked.

"I'm not his—"

"She's not my—"

"She sure does! Thanks for everything, see ya." Shoko cut off you and Satoru from responding and shoved the two of you out the door.

****

That comment lingered in the back of yours and Satoru's minds for the rest of the day.

On the train home, you grazed your fingers over Satoru's undercut and it elicited the funniest reaction out of him; he shivered like a cat that had just been scratched in a sweet spot.

"Haha, does that feel good?" you asked.

"It does. But my neck feels naked." Satoru shrugged.

Oh my god, do that again, he thought. It felt so good.

"Aw, then Y/n should wrap her arms around your neck." Suguru said in a flirtatious murmur.

Shoko laughed and propped a cigarette between her lips.

The four of you got off the train, you parted ways. Suguru and Shoko lived in different places and had to wait for their respective trains to take them home. So, you said your goodbyes and went with Satoru.

When you and Satoru moved out of your university housing, you both decided to live on the same street. You can say it was for X reasons, like oh it's a good neighborhood or oh the prices are great or oh the apartment walls aren't thin... but let's be honest; you and Satoru just didn't want to live too far from each other. You were inseparable, even cry-babies whenever the two of you were separated.

Satoru was always clinging or touching you in some way – hanging off your shoulders, resting his chin on the top of your head, draping an arm around you, holding your hand, snuggling into your neck. The closeness brought him more comfort than his own bed. He even claimed once that he could fall asleep on you more readily than on his bed.

Sometimes he was just shy of kissing you when you two met up, or when he knocked on your apartment door some mornings. His lips would graze over yours by accident in some circumstances, and though the two of you would laugh it off, there was an unmistakable spark in the air between you and him.

****

“Do you like it?” Satoru asked.

“I love it. You look really good.” You replied.

Satoru smiled to himself, hiding his face in your lap.

The TV was playing the most recent episode of that trashy romance soap opera – the episode where the two love interests kissed in the rain. Satoru stared hard at their lips connecting, and thought of why he hasn’t attempted to kiss you again. He didn’t want to ruin anything, so he kept his confession to himself even if it was obvious that he liked you.

You noticed he went a bit silent as you ran your fingers through his hair. He made a soft, long groan when your fingertips tickled up the back of his neck and over his prickly undercut.

“You sound like a cat.” You laughed.

His eyes were closed, brows relaxed into a sleepy arch. Whenever he got drowsy in your lap, his lips would part and show his two front teeth.

****

After getting an undercut hairstyle, Satoru was living in heaven with how much attention you gave his hair. Every day you’d find an excuse to play with his hair.

It made his heart beat harder and his mind go blank whenever you touched his neck and hair. He’d get shivers and close his eyes each time you did it, and would even stop talking mid-sentence.

In time it grew out. He refused to go back to the hairdresser, and instead insisted that you cut his hair for him. At first, he attempted to do it himself, but then he wimped out as soon as he held the scissors to his hair.

So, after he practically begged you on his knees and voiced his fear for the hairdresser, you agreed.

Cutting Satoru’s hair was a whole event. You invited Suguru and Shoko over to your apartment, and the four of you were laughing in the cramped bathroom together.

You had no idea what you were doing, and the online tutorials didn’t help much.

Satoru was dramatic when he thought you were cutting it too short or jagged, and he was so very picky that it drove you nuts to the point of putting the scissors down and leaving. But then he hugged your legs and apologized cutely, so you came back. Suguru and Shoko had to get it on camera because it was pure comedy.

“Alright, fairy princess. How did I do?” you asked Satoru.

He checked himself out in the mirror. His jawline and shorter hair drove you a bit wild, it was hard to contain yourself.

“It’s okay.” He replied cheekily.

“Just “okay”?! I put my soul into this!”

He grinned. “I’m just teasing.” He said, “I like it. Now let’s test it out.”

You looked confused. “Test it out?”

“Play with my hair.” He explained, “And tell me you like how it feels or else I’ll cry.” He added dramatically.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[vigilante-3073]

Daddy's Credit Card

Cullen Family x Female Vampire Reader (Platonic)

PART 10

Summary: Bella endures her transition to a Vampire while Y/N's condition continues to worsen.

TW: Mentions of death/injury/illness, lack of regard for the feelings of others, medical testing, needles, blood.

The Cullen family was left unscathed after Jacob imprinted on Renesmee. The Wolves were forced to abandon their quest to kill the child, but tensions were still high. Y/N had been released from her quarantine and had finally been allowed to move about the house freely.

She took full advantage of her newfound freedom, but there were some things that Carlisle still wouldn't allow. Y/N was not to step foot outside the house unless someone was with her. She became quickly exhausted after any kind of physical activity and her heart beat would become irregular. Carlisle was strict about her having a companion in case something were to happen.

Y/N walked along the road with Jacob Black by her side. He had been focused on Renesmee since he had imprinted, Bella was still in transition and he felt responsible for the baby girl. Jacob had been incredibly tense as he watched over Renesmee and Carlisle encouraged him to take a moment away. Jacob went reluctantly and the pair walked in silence until he looked over at her.

"Why exactly do you need a babysitter?" Jacob asked.

"I'm dying," Y/N stated simply.

"What? I thought that Vampires couldn't die unless they're torn apart," Jacob said.

"Apparently they can... I bleed, I cry, I eat and my body is falling apart for no apparent reason," Y/N said.

"That sucks," Jacob said.

Y/N huffed a laugh, "Yeah, it does," She replied.

"Still doesn't really explain why I'm following you around though," Jacob said.

"Carlisle said that my heart beat is irregular. He's worried that something could happen to me while I'm alone," Y/N stated.

"Have you left your house at all since you started becoming human?" Jacob asked.

She glared at him, "I am not a human," She corrected quickly.

"Well, whatever you are then," He amended.

"No, you and your wolf friends had my house surrounded. Remember?" Y/N questioned.

"So, you're pretty new to not being a bloodsucker then, huh?" He asked.

"I guess you could say that," She replied.

"Do you want to go into town for a bit? Maybe we can get some actual food," He offered.

"I would do anything to leave that place right now. Since Bella died, Carlisle has devoted the entirety of his time to testing me for anything he can possibly think of. Then I have to sit there and watch Edward stay by his wife as she magically comes back from the dead. Don't even get me started on that rapidly growing demon that they produced... It's like my own personal hell," Y/N said.

Jacob laughed and Y/N shot him a serious look, "I didn't realize that I said something funny," Y/N said.

"It may not be funny, but it is ironic because I was in love with Bella and I was ready to kill Edward when she died. Then I went to get the baby to hand over to the pack and in some ridiculous twist of fate, I actually imprinted on her. Now I practically live in the house with the guy I hate, the girl I used to love and their daughter," Jacob said.

"If I weren't going to die horrifically, I might actually say that you have it worse," Y/N replied.

"We're just two of the luckiest people around, huh?" He questioned, she nodded.

"Where are you taking me then?" Y/N asked.

"A diner. I'm going to get you the biggest and most greasy burger they offer along with fries and a milkshake," Jacob listed.

"All of that sounds absolutely repulsive, but I'm excited to try it," She said.

"Good," Jacob nodded.

The pair returned to the house and Y/N went up to tell Carlisle that she was leaving. She returned after a few minutes with a pair of car keys dangling from her finger.

"He said no to the motorcycle," She stated.

"Maybe another day," Jacob replied, holding out his hand.

Y/N placed the keys into his palm, "I'm definitely riding on a motorcycle before I die. I'm trusting you to make that happen," She said.

"I can definitely do that for you," Jacob assured.

They made their way down to the garage and got into one of the cars. Jacob started the car and opened the garage before driving out onto the road.

Y/N settled back into her seat as she looked out the window, "Just for my own curiosity, how long does it usually take for someone to come back from the dead?" Jacob questioned.

"Usually takes about three days. The morphine that Bella had in her system could definitely have an effect on it though," Y/N stated.

"Three days of waiting," Jacob huffed.

"At least she's not awake and screaming like the rest of us were," Y/N said.

"It hurt that badly?" Jacob asked, glancing over at her.

"The worst pain I've ever felt. It was like every nerve being scorched and having your skin peeled from your body. It was misery," She said.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," He said.

"It gave me a lifetime of pain and loneliness like I have never known before. I would have chosen death a thousand times over," Y/N replied.

"Who was it?" Jacob asked.

"I don't know what you mean," Y/N said, looking over at him.

"Who was it that broke your heart?" Jacob clarified.

Y/N hesitated, "Carlisle first and Edward second," She answered.

Jacob scoffed, "Well, with that information, you definitely earned the title of having the worst situation possible," Jacob said.

"I've always been an overachiever," She deadpanned with a smirk.

Jacob smiled as he pulled into the parking lot of the diner, "Ready to eat?" He asked.

"I'm absolutely ravenous," She replied.

The pair got out of the car and made their way into the restaurant, they were sat in a booth and given a moment to look over the menu.

Y/N stared at the laminated sheet with wide eyes, finding herself overwhelmed by the options as she slowly opened the menu.

"Wow, this is a lot of stuff," She mumbled.

"Do you want me to just order for you?" Jacob questioned.

"That would be lovely," Y/N replied.

"Do you have any preference on milkshake flavor?" He asked.

"The last meal that I had as a living person was probably boiled cabbage and stale bread. You can pick whatever you want and I'm sure it will be better than anything I've ever eaten," She replied, closing the menu and sliding it to the edge of the table.

"Point taken," He nodded.

The waitress returned to their table with her notepad and pen in hand, "What can I get for you two today?" She questioned.

"For drinks, we'd like one chocolate and one vanilla milkshake. And for food, we'll get two of the bacon cheeseburgers with fries," Jacob listed.

"Perfect, I'll get that going for you," The waitress nodded, collecting the menus and moving off to the kitchen.

"Why did you get two different flavor drinks?" Y/N asked.

"So you can try both and keep whichever one you like best," Jacob shrugged.

"That's very kind of you," She said.

"It's no big deal," He replied.

"It is to me," Y/N stated.

The drinks came out quickly and the food followed shortly after. Jacob put two plastic straws into the milkshakes and slid them across the table to her.

Y/N leaned forward, taking a sip of the vanilla milkshake before moving over to the chocolate and taking another sip.

"What's the verdict?" He questioned.

"I like the lighter one more," She said, tapping a finger against the side of the first glass.

Jacob slid the chocolate milkshake back over to his side of the table, "Good choice. The vanilla one is my personal favorite," He said, taking a sip from the same straw.

"You can have it if you like it more," Y/N said, moving to slide it over to him.

"You're the one who's new to human food. You get to keep the milkshake that you like best," Jacob said, resting his hand over hers and pushing it back over to her side of the table.

They ate and chatted about their lives before reluctantly returning to the Cullen house.

"I had fun tonight. You're pretty cool for an ex-bloodsucker," Jacob said.

"I had fun too and I suppose I should say thank you," Y/N replied.

"It was definitely meant as a compliment," Jacob assured, "And you can feel free to come find me whenever you want to go on another nature walk or do something ridiculously stupid just to cross it off your bucket list," He continued.

"I will definitely take you up on that," Y/N nodded.

"I'll see you tomorrow... Sleep well," He said.

"You too," Y/N replied, making her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

...

Y/N stood in the shower, lathering the shampoo into her hair before stepping under the water. She washed the soap from her scalp, allowing the warm water to run over her skin. Y/N lowered her arms as her heart began to race in her chest, she let out a shaky exhale and leaned into the wall.

Y/N suddenly felt lightheaded and exhausted, breathing heavily as she slid down the wall weakly. Her arms fell in front of her body limply as she leaned into the wall, eyelids fluttering as she struggled to remain conscious.

"Carlisle," She called softly, her voice was barely audible over the sound of the water.

The shower curtain was pulled back suddenly before Carlisle reached in and turned off the water. He stepped away, grabbing her robe before kneeling down next to the bathtub.

Carlisle maneuvered her body around easily, slipping her arms through the sleeves and wrapping the robe around her body. He tied the belt at her waist before slipping his arms underneath her and lifting her into his arms.

Y/N's head rested on his shoulder as she closed her eyes, head pounding as her heart raced in her chest. He carried her into her bedroom before carefully setting her down on her bed.

Carlisle brought over the vitals machine, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around her arm and placing the probe on her finger. Y/N grimaced as the cuff began to inflate, but she was far too exhausted to say anything.

"Your blood pressure is incredibly low," Carlisle stated, reaching over and resting his hand on the side of her neck.

His fingers found her pulse point easily, feeling the rapid pulsation of her heart against his fingertips.

"I don't feel good," She mumbled shakily.

"I'll get you on fluids and we'll see if that helps," Carlisle said.

Y/N closed her eyes, unable to do anything besides breathe as her body began to shiver. Carlisle returned with a bag of fluids and a primed line, hanging it up on the pole beside her bed.

"Are you cold?" He questioned, noticing the way her body trembled.

She nodded silently and Carlisle stepped into her closet, he returned with a long sleeved shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants.

"Not mine," Y/N mumbled.

"Alice thought that you should have something comfortable and warm to wear," Carlisle said, setting the items on the edge of her bed.

He helped her dry off and get dressed before getting her settled in the bed. Carlisle sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, tying the tourniquet around her arm and flexing her wrist as his eyes scanned her skin.

Carlisle cleaned her skin with an alcohol wipe before opening his needle and removing the cap. Y/N turned her head away as he pushed the needle into her vein, he held the cannula in place as he retracted the needle. He connected the tubing to the cannula quickly before laying a clear dressing on top of it.

Carlisle pressed the edges against her skin carefully before reaching up to grab his IV tubing and connecting it to her. Y/N looked over as he stood up, programming the machine and opening the roller clamps.

The fluid slowly began to drip as the infusion started, "You should try and get some rest. I'll be back to check on you in a bit," Carlisle said, she nodded.

Y/N drifted off into a dreamless sleep before Carlisle had even stepped foot into the hallway. She slept for hours, body shivering silently as she struggled to retain her warmth. Carlisle added a few more blankets on top of her, but nothing seemed to help with the icy chill that had come over her.

Carlisle slowly made his way into the living room where the family was sitting. Esme held Renesmee in her arms while Rosalie watched them with a fond smile.

"Jacob, could I borrow you for a moment?" Carlisle asked.

"Sure," He nodded, standing up from his seat and following Carlisle down the hallway.

"I have a bit of an odd request and you can refuse if it makes you uncomfortable," Carlisle said.

"What is it?" Jacob asked.

"Y/N had a bit of a medical episode tonight," Carlisle started.

"Is she okay?" Jacob questioned.

"She's fine, but she's incredibly cold and I can't seem to get her temperature up," Carlisle said.

"I can definitely help with that," Jacob nodded.

"Thank you," Carlisle replied, leading Jacob down the hallway to her bedroom.

He opened the door and stepped inside, allowing Jacob to make his way into the room before closing the door gently.

"Jeez, how many blankets do you have her buried under?" Jacob asked with a smile.

"Five, I believe," Carlisle stated.

Jacob moved around to the other side of the bed, stepping out of his boots before lifting the blankets and laying down beside her.

Jacob shifted closer to her and she turned towards him in her sleep, immediately drawn in by the heat he gave off. Jacob wrapped his arms around her and guided her body into his side.

Y/N let out a soft breath, her head resting on his chest as she soaked up his warmth, "She's freezing," Jacob muttered, rubbing his hand over her back gently.

"I'm not much help in that department, unfortunately," Carlisle said.

"Well, I got it from here," Jacob assured.

"Just be conscious of the IV and call for me if something happens," Carlisle said, Jacob nodded.

Carlisle made his way out of the bedroom, closing the door behind himself carefully. Jacob settled back into the pillows, brushing his hand over her back until he eventually drifted off to sleep beside her.

Jacob awoke when the sky was dark, he turned his head to see Carlisle standing at the bedside. He hung a new bag of fluids on the IV pole before connecting it and pressing a few buttons on the machine to restart the infusion.

Y/N stirred slightly in his arms as Carlisle programmed the pump, eyes fluttering open slowly. Her brows furrowed as she pulled away from him slightly.

"What's going on?" She mumbled.

"You were cold," Jacob replied.

"How are you feeling?" Carlisle questioned.

"I'm fine," Y/N replied, laying back down on her back beside Jacob.

"I can go if you want," Jacob offered.

"No, it's too cold in this place," She huffed, lifting the blankets up higher over her body as her teeth chattered slightly.

"Here," Jacob smiled, reaching out and pulling her closer to his side.

He wrapped his arm around her and she leaned her head back against his shoulder as his hand settled on her arm, "Better?" He questioned, she nodded and closed her eyes. Carlisle smiled softly to himself, quietly exiting the room and closing the door.

"I know you're not here for me, but I still appreciate it," Y/N said softly.

"You're probably one of the best living people in this house right now. Us humans need to stick together," Jacob said.

"Still not human," Y/N mumbled tiredly.

"Whatever you say," Jacob replied, rubbing his hand over her arm gently.

...

Carlisle opened the door to Y/N's bedroom and paused when he realized that the bed was empty. Jacob had stayed with her for a few hours before returning to the living room to be with Renesmee. She had been asleep when he last checked on her and the empty bed made him nervous.

"Y/N," Carlisle called.

"In here," Y/N replied softly.

He stepped over to the bathroom and pushed the door open, finding her sitting on the floor in front of the toilet with her back leaned against the wall. Y/N was incredibly pale with dark bags under her eyes, exhausted and weak as she looked up at him.

"Are you alright?" He questioned.

"I can't stop throwing up," Y/N mumbled.

"How long have you been in here?" Carlisle asked.

"An hour," She replied.

"Why didn't you call for me? I could've given you something to help with the nausea," He said gently.

"Feels like someone shoved a hot branding iron down my throat," She muttered.

"I could get you some water or tea to help," Carlisle offered.

"Just want to sleep," Y/N stated.

"Can you stand?" He questioned, looking down at her.

"No, everything hurts," She grumbled.

Carlisle nodded, kneeling down and sliding his arm underneath her body before lifting her up into his arms. Y/N let out a soft whimper, grimacing in pain and gripping onto him as he picked her up.

Carlisle turned around and set her down on the countertop. He prepared her toothbrush before passing it to her, wetting a cloth under some warm water as she brushed her teeth.

Y/N leaned over and spit into the sink, Carlisle took the toothbrush from her hand and offered her the cloth. Y/N wiped the cloth over her skin, arms falling limply in her lap as she breathed heavily, utterly exhausted from the simple act of wiping her face.

"Are you alright?" Carlisle asked.

"No, I'm not and I wish you'd stop asking me that," She snapped.

Carlisle didn't reply, giving her a moment to rest as he put everything away. He stepped back over to her when her breathing rate had returned to normal.

"Ready?" He asked, she nodded.

Carlisle lifted her into his arms carefully before he carried her into her room and placed her down on her bed. Y/N grimaced as she laid back, closing her eyes as she took a few shaky breaths.

"How bad is the pain?" Carlisle questioned.

"Terrible," She stated, growing irritated with his questions as she struggled to get comfortable.

"I'll get you something for the pain and the nausea," Carlisle said, standing up from the edge of the bed.

"Or you could just snap my neck now and put me out of my misery," Y/N offered.

"That's not an option and you know that," Carlisle replied gently.

"What quality of life do I have, Carlisle? My teeth are falling out, my body aches like I have broken glass flowing through my veins and I can't do simple tasks without feeling completely exhausted. I am miserable and it isn't going to get any better," She stated.

"There are still things we can try, Y/N. You were doing incredibly well a few days ago, we don't have to jump to extremes just yet. Pain medications, sedatives and anti-nausea drugs can drastically improve your comfort level," Carlisle said.

Y/N scoffed, "I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a narcotic haze as my body shuts down," She snapped.

"Dosages can be adjusted. It doesn't have to be that way," Carlisle assured.

"You've done as much as you can for me. It's time to give up," Y/N stated.

"That's not what you really want," He said.

"How would you know what I want? You haven't cared enough to know me for an incredibly long time, Carlisle," She said.

"You're right... I haven't been there for you in the way that you wanted, but I'm here now and I want to help you," Carlisle pressed.

"You can't help me," Y/N stated firmly, "But you can let me go," She continued.

"We can talk about our options tomorrow. You should try and get some rest," Carlisle advised.

Y/N shook her head, looking away as Carlisle made his way out of her bedroom and closed the door.

Edward stood in the hallway, "She wants to die?" He questioned.

"She does," Carlisle replied.

"We can't let that happen," Edward stated.

"I'm going to try and convince her to pursue alternative treatment options, but she doesn't seem optimistic," Carlisle said.

"I'll talk to her," Edward said, Carlisle shook his head.

"Bella could be waking up any moment now, she's going to need you. I can deal with Y/N for the time being," Carlisle assured.

"When Bella wakes up, Y/N is going to need someone with her at all times. The bloodlust could overwhelm Bella and Y/N wouldn't stand a chance," Edward said.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Carlisle replied.

"Agreed," Edward nodded.

[lifeasadorkwithnolife]

Monster (Azriel X Reader)

Word Count: 4700

Summary: Everyone thinks that Y/N is a horrible person for what she did under the mountain, and she agrees, but Azriel realizes that things aren't what they seem.

I have not wrote any fanfiction in 5 years, which is absolutely crazy. I've been talking to my boyfriend a lot about story ideas and he asked me, why don't you just write it down? So here it is, it's not exactly what I used to write.

---------------------

You had hoped you would die under the caldron-forsaken mountain. The 49 years have cost you everything: your family, your court and your humanity. Amarantha had chosen you to be her right hand, you had no one to lose and everything to gain. You became known as Amarantha’s bitch, arguably a worse title than Rhysand’s. Your job was to keep discipline under the mountain and frequently had to whip and grant Amarantha’s wishes of public torture sessions when the Attor was not around.

Your reputation had made it outside of the mountain and throughout the courts, you were known to be ruthless and would kill without hesitation. You were an absolute monster.

Before Feyre had come along and saved you all from the mountain, the only one who understood your pain was Rhysand. For the first few years of your position, Rhysand would look at you with hatred in his eyes. He tortured people too, but you knew he didn’t enjoy it in the same way you pretended to. Every time you tortured the poor soul who got on Amarantha’s nerves, you would go up to them after the fact and hold their hand and ask if they had learned their lesson.

You had a gift and a curse, your gift was the ability to absorb pain from someone else, but the curse was that pain demanded to be felt eventually. Every whipping, every burn, or every cut that you performed, you took it from them to feel later. You kept this secret to yourself originally, but it’s quite hard to hide things from Rhysand.

On one unfortunate night, he entered your chambers under the mountain and witnessed the blood beginning to pool on your back. “Someone give you a taste of your own medicine?” He smirked, leaning against the door frame.

“Get the fuck out, Rhysand.” You croaked, mouth dry as you felt another blow to your back from the whipping earlier. “If I wanted to sleep with someone, it wouldn’t be Amarantha’s seconds.” You could feel the walls you built to protect yourself from Rhysand crumbling, like they were nothing but paper, and his eyes grew in realization.

He walked over to you and placed your face in his hands, his eyes growing wide with understanding. “You don’t have to bear their pain alone, Y/N.” He whispered, but you shook your head.

“Please go away.” You whispered, tears filling your eyes. Nobody had ever seen you like this under the mountain, “I can handle it, really.”

You felt the next blow and cried out, Rhysand caught you in his arms and held you. You felt him in your mind, and then your physical pain was gone, and it was just you both in your head. He was right there, in front of you, and all you could do was sigh. “I can explain.”

“Are you…. Are you taking their pain?” He whispered, and you nodded. “Why?”

“We’re all trapped here.” You replied, your voice echoing across the black void. “Someone will hurt them either way, at least if I hurt them… I can take their pain away and they can pass peacefully.”

“How long have you been doing this?” Rhys asked, and you shrugged. “I could have helped you, we’re on the same side.”

“It’s my pain to bear, I wouldn’t have agreed to this job if I couldn’t take their pain away.” You whispered back, he nodded in understanding.

From then on, you had one friend under the mountain, and when Feyre became part of the picture, you had two.

----------------------

               When Feyre won the trials and you were released from the mountain, you realized that you had nowhere to go. Your court has disowned you and your family was…gone. Rhysand invited you back to Velaris to the dismay of his inner circle, and he agreed that your gift would remain a secret until you were ready.

               You trained as hard as you could and tried your best time and time again to win over the inner circle. You promised yourself you would tell them about your gift eventually but couldn’t bring yourself to do it, feeling like you would be using it as an “excuse” to torture others and end all the lives you did, when it was really inexcusable.

               The member of the inner circle that hated you the most was Azriel, he would immediately leave any room you entered, refuse to go on missions with you and would even stop training as soon as you were in earshot. You could sense him staring at you from afar sometimes, and whenever you would look it would be anger, hatred and maybe a little confusion in his eyes.

               You tried your best to make friends with everyone, but it’s hard to be friends with a sadistic murderer who laughed as they were killing the weak and defenseless. The only people who gave you a chance were Cassian and Feyre, and you couldn’t be more appreciative.

               One night, during one of your nightmares, you awoke to large hands shaking you awake and came face to face with Cassian. He looked at you in concern and placed a hand around your head in a brotherly, comforting way. Tears flowed down your face. “You were shouting your own name, what were you dreaming about?”

               “Cassian, do you think I can be forgiven for what I’ve done?” You whispered, looking up at him. He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I need to tell you the truth.”

               Cassian was the first person you willingly told your story to, and he looked absolutely horrified. You showed him the scars on your back and told him about the worst things you have ever done. He comforted you for hours, and in return told you his stories about how he’s killed and how guilty he feels about it sometimes.

               It was nice having Cassian after that point, you two would spar, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to throw a punch when he was open. His laughter was a wonderful sound, and he would often catch you staring at Azriel- longing for his forgiveness but knowing that would most likely never happen. You knew he didn’t trust you, and you don’t think he ever would.

               ---------------------------

                “I need you two to go on a mission together.” Rhys explains, looking between you and Azriel. “I don’t care about how much you don’t like each other; this needs to be done. The attor was sighted on our border, and I need him found.”

               You took a quick look at Azriel before turning away, his hands were clenched into fists, and his shadows were swarming around angrily. “I can go by myself just fine.” Azriel snapped, “She’ll just slow me down and you know it.”

               “I need you BOTH to go, which is why Y/N is here.” Rhysand clasped his hands together, looking at you expectantly. “I think she will be helpful in this mission, since the attor is involved.”

               “I am familiar with the attor.” You sighed, peeking over at Azriel. “I may be able to lure him out.”

               “I bet he’s very fond of you,” Azriel turned to look at you, “I bet you killed more people than he did, did you guys keep count like a competition?”

               You stepped back, you had barely spoken to Azriel, but these were his first words with you. Every reassurance that Cassian, Feyre and Rhys had ever provided seemed to disappear.

               “I just don’t understand Rhys, why is she here? The rest of us have killed, sure, but for good reason. She is a monster.” Azriel’s shadows circled the room, and you could feel the hatred coming off him in waves.

               ‘You’re not going to defend yourself?’ Rhys asked you, and you gave your head a slight shake.

               “This is the last I’m hearing of it, Azriel, you better bring her back here in one piece or so help me.”

---------------

               After 3 cold days of searching for the Attor, he was nowhere to be found, and Azriel’s snide comments were getting on your nerves. The flight back to Velaris was cold and silent.

               “Hey, I’m sorry that we came all this way and didn’t catch him.” You whispered, staring down at the darkening landscape.

               “I just hoped that you would be useful for something.” He replied, not even looking in your direction. You sighed, your heart plummeting to your stomach. You had hoped, on some deluded level, that this trip would allow you to talk to him and explain yourself and maybe- just maybe- he wouldn’t hate you so much anymore.

               “I just wanted to say sorry- not just for the attor but for everything.” He looked down at you, and you couldn’t tell what expression was on his face. “I’m just- I’m trying to be better than I was under the mountain, the person I was then is not me. I hope you can believe that.”

               He nodded, looking back up at the setting sun. “I believe that you want to be better.” He said solemnly, “But if what everyone is saying is true, then there is no hope for you. You will never change, even if Rhysand and Cassian don’t see it yet.”  

               You couldn’t even bring yourself to nod, you felt the cold tears sting your eyes but tried to blink them away before they could fall. Azriel saw you for who you really were, the murderer. At least he won’t lie to you like everyone else has.

               The silence ticked by when all the sudden, an arrow flew by your head and hit Azriels wing with a sharp crack. He grunted in pain and dropped a couple feet; another 2 arrows swished by and tore through his other wing. “Azriel- land!” You shouted, searching the darkened forest floor for any sign of the attackers.

               “No shit Y/N.” Azriel shouted, his wings pumping as the ground came in closer. You felt Azriel turn to the side as another arrow whizzed towards your head, but he took another arrow to the wing. Did he just…protect you? You two landed on the ground in a heap, but you stood up quickly, knife in hand as you searched the darkness for your attackers.

               You feel a presence behind you, and turn around, quickly taking the archer to the ground and holding your knife to his neck. He was older, with pointed ears and white hair. He barred his teeth angrily, but with your knees holding down his arms and knife against his neck, he was stuck.

               “Why are you attacking us?” You seethed, your knife getting dangerously close to his neck. He struggled.

               “They told us you would be passing through- you killed my whole family you bitch!” he shouted, you froze, “Just kill me! Like you did to all of them!” You stood there in silence, hesitating, trying to remember who it was that you killed. You couldn’t kill this man too, you promised you would never hurt anyone again.

               Suddenly you were under him, his knife starting to slide across your neck. You didn’t even raise your hands to defend yourself, you could see the pain of his loss clearly on his face. You nodded, closing your eyes as you waited for him to finish. You remembered Azriel’s words from earlier, he was right after all, there would be no redemption either way.

               You felt the weight lift from your throat and took a deep breath, opening your eyes and seeing Azriel’s angry from holding up the man. Azriel looked absolutely terrifying in that moment. “No, don’t hurt him- “You started, but Azriel had his knife out and slashed his neck, throwing his body to the ground. You cried out, crawling over to the males bloodied form. His eyes frantically looked around, and you grabbed his hand, but there was no usual tug, no usual surge of power as you took his pain, you looked up again and met with lifeless eyes. The male was already gone.

               “Did you…did you know him?” Azriel spat out, grabbing you angrily by your arm and pulling you up. “He shot me out of the sky and just had a knife to your neck, and now you’re crying over him?”

               “of course I didn’t know him!” You pushed back at Azriel, looking down at the male who was dead. “I just…. I just….” You felt a wave of nausea roll through you and turned so you could dry heave. Another death, because of you, again.

               “You just what Y/N?” Azriel barked, and you flinched from him. “Tell me what is going on.”

               “He’s dead!” You whispered. Azriel looked astounded, looking at the man then at you. He then laughed. “Why are you laughing?”

               “Give me a fucking break, Y/N. Lets go.” He grabbed your arm, pulling you with him.

------------

               You two wandered until you found a cabin, the candles were still burning when you arrived and there was a fire going in the fireplace. You were becoming more worried about Azriel by the minute, his skin was losing it’s color and he was almost limping as he walked. As soon as you both entered the cabin, he sat down in a chair and started removing his leathers.

               “Azriel- are you alright?”

               “I’m fine, I just need to get this arrow out of my wing.” He muttered, looking at you.  You watched him as he reached behind him, failing to get a good grip on it. “Would you mind?”

               “I can help.” You whispered, coming up behind him and looking at his wing. His wings were beautiful, dark and somewhat translucent, you had never been this close to him before. You could see an oddish green color seeping from one of the wounds and your heart dropped, poison.

               You slowly touched the area around the protruding arrow, he tensed up. Your fingers lightly traced the area around it, trying to figure out if pulling it out was the best option or if keeping it in to stop the blood flow would be better. Removing it would probably be best, since it was poisoned.

               “Azriel, I’m going to remove it now, okay?” You said quietly, bracing your hands on the arrow. This would hurt like a bitch, but only for a second. You pulled, wincing as the wing membrane tore open a little more. Azriel grunted. “I’m so sorry, but it should start to feel better now, okay? Let me go outside so we can ice it.”

               “No- don’t go.” Azriel looked back at you, his expression a little less guarded. “There could be more of them out there- it’s unsafe.”

               “I’ll be okay, we really need to keep an eye on this for a little bit.” You reassured him and walked out of the warm cabin and into the harsh cold. You grabbed as much snow as you could fit in your sack and came back in just a few minutes later, as soon as you walked in Azriel seemed to slump in relief.

               “How are you feeling?” You asked him, noting that his complexion had looked possibly worse than before.

               “I’m feeling okay.” He looked at you, his eyebrows scrunching, then a small smile came to his lips. You stopped in your tracks, if Azriel was smiling at you, there definitely was something wrong. “I feel a little funny….I think there was something in those arrows.”

               You nodded, coming over and handing the cold pack to him. He nodded and placed it against his wing, wincing at the cold. “You really confuse me, Y/N.” He admitted, his shadows seemed as lethargic as him as they swirled around you. “I can’t figure out who you are- I just see so many different things and it’s not adding up.

               “Who do you see?” You whispered, and he shook his head, somewhat confused. “You can tell me.”

               “You act like you are kind, and at first I thought it was for show, but you seem to be kind even when nobody knows it’s you.” He explains, his voice somewhat slurring. “You pay attention, you leave out books you know Feyre will like, you leave out Mor’s favorite snacks when she doesn’t even like you.”

               “And I’ve watched you train with Cassian; you refuse to throw a punch even when he’s wide open. Even- even with that guy outside who was going to kill you- you refused to hurt him, and you cried when he died.” Azriel looked at you, without hatred, for the first time. “How can someone who killed so many people, who tortured others and laughed as their families mourn, cry over a stranger? There is something you’re not telling me. Rhys and Cassian can see it, what are you not telling me? I want so badly to be on your side, please, tell me, who are you? ”

               You felt tears fall down your face, because he’s only saying this because he was drugged. “Azriel, I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again.” You whispered, “I’m different than I was under the mountain.”

               Azriel nodded, head leaning back as he winced in pain. You grabbed his hand, not asking for permission, and pulled away his pain. You thought of your family, your last memories with them. Your mother, father and two brothers sitting at the table. Your brothers throwing food at each other whenever your parents weren’t looking, trying to get it into each other’s mouths, and trying to hide your laughter so your parents wouldn’t notice. You could feel him sigh in relief and fall unconscious. You sighed in relief, playing the memory again in your head, missing who you were 50 years ago.

               You woke up with a gasp, the pain from Azriel’s injuries tearing through your back. How did he deal with this much pain without even showing it? You snuck outside past Azriel’s sleeping form, and grabbed some snow into the pack that you had used for Azriel, hoping the cold would help your back.

               After shoveling some of the snow into the pack, you felt a presence behind you and looked up, seeing Azriel in the doorway. “Are you feeling bet-“

               “What did you do to me?” Azriel growled, walking down the three steps to confront you in the snow. “Who were those people? What did you do?”

               “You were poisoned Azriel, I just…I gave you some snow to cool you down and tried to get rid of the infection.” You looked up at him, trying to find the man who you had spoken to so truthfully a few hours before. “You were a little confused, which is expected.”

               He shook his head, “who was that family? Is that another family you killed?” he spat, and you froze in place. You didn’t realize that you had shown him that. “Forgot I asked. Don’t ever touch me again. Get back in here so I don’t have to protect your ass if someone else comes around to kill us.”

               You nodded, leaving the pack in the snow and making your way back up to the cabin. You could feel the chills start but could feel how physically hot your body felt. You laid down on the floor, where you were previously right next to the fire. Azriel stood next to the door, watching you intently like you might try to run away.  

               “Are you alright? You’re shaking.” Azriel stated, and you nodded. He walked over to you, hesitating then placing his hand on your forehead for a brief second. “Y/N, you’re burning up. We need to take off some of these layers.”

               You couldn’t find it in yourself to argue as Azriel ripped off your leathers, freezing at what he saw. He turned you over, but you were pale and nearly unconscious. You could hazily see a hint of worry on his face as you passed out.

--------

The flight back was torturous, the pain had started shortly after you woke up, and with each pound of Azriel’s wings another wave of pain went through you. You noticed that for the first time, you were warm and Azriel kept you close to his chest. You could feel how slow your heart rate was, and the growing pain made your realize that maybe this trip would be the end for you.

“Hey Azzie” You whispered, looking up at him. He was truly so beautiful, especially with he early morning sunrise reflecting off his features and the small beads of sweat. “Are you hurting at all?”

“No Y/N, I’m fine.” He stated, looking down at you confused. “Azzie? Where is this coming from?”

“I think Azzie would be a fun nickname.” You laughed before groaning in pain. “I just wanted to tell you something really important.”

“And what is that?” He looked down at you, if you looked like how you felt, then you could understand the growing concern in your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? We could have left last night.”

“I don’t want to argue, please.” You whispered, trying to get closer to him. You felt cold and hot at the same time. “Those people I showed you- I did kill them in a way.” His arms stiffened but you continued. “That was my last good memory before I…. became a murderer. I didn’t protect them, I left and they came and attacked and I was the only one brought under the mountain.” The pain in your chest matched the pain in your back. “I couldn’t take away their pain, I couldn’t hold them as they died, I will never forgive myself.”

“You can’t save everyone,” Azriel whispered, you sighed and closed your eyes again, listening to the thumping of his wings. “Why didn’t you just use the antidote on yourself too, I could have handled it.”

“I can’t use it on me.” You whispered, before falling back unconscious.    

---------------------------

               “I need help in here!” Azriel’s voice boomed, causing you to stir and groan from your position in his arms. “Rhysand!”

               You heard thumping and were placed on a soft surface; you felt a warm hand against your cheek and found yourself leaning into it. Then the pain started, and you felt yourself writhe as the poison worked its way through your back.

               “I’m not sure what happened, one minute she was fine.” You heard Azriel say in a panicked voice, “then she’s shaking from the cold, no matter how hot I turned up the fire. She has a fever and has been delirious for the past two hours of the flight, talking about forgiveness and you and Cassian knowing the truth. What is going on Rhys?”

               You could feel a set of hands on your back and you screamed in pain as they tried to flip you over. “Don’t do that! You’re hurting her!” You heard a voice yell, and you tried to keep your mouth shut to prevent any more noises from escaping.             

               “High lord, I’m going to need to him out of here if he can’t control himself.” You heard the women say, you recognized her voice, was that the healer?

               “Azriel, what else happened?” Rhys voice asked, you realized that you couldn’t open your eyes, but you weren’t in as much pain, Rhys must be doing something to you.  

               “We were attacked on the way back; I took three arrows to the wing but she didn’t say anything. Hell, I didn’t even see an arrow go towards her.” You could hear, maybe it was worry, in his voice. “Then she healed me somehow, but she didn’t heal herself. She couldn’t tell me why.” You felt a hand grab yours, and from the ridges of skin there could tell it was Azriel.

               “Please, help her.” You heard him whisper.

               “Madja, Y/N an absorber healer, she’s been poisoned.” Rhys instructs; you hear a gasp from the healer.

               “By the cauldrons, I have never met one before, they are so rare.” You hear her say.

               Despite Rhys’s efforts, you feel another wave of pain shoot down your back, but you keep your mouth closed to avoid screaming. “Azriel- get out.” Rhys shouted, and you tried to shake your head in objection. You need Azriel, you gripped his hand tighter, or tried to in your half-conscious state.

               You felt your shirt rip open, and then your hand was released, and steps were taken away from you. “Rhys- what are those- why does she have all those scars on her back?”

               “She can explain when she wakes up.”

------------------

               You woke up with a start, a scream on your lips. “Y/N, you’re okay.” A voice said, and you felt two hands rest on your shoulders. You snapped your head to see, Azriel? You looked around, you were in your room, but a chair had been pulled up next to the bed.

               “How long…”

               “3 days.” Azriel stated, settling back down into the chair.

               You nodded, “and…why are you in my room?” You looked around, cautiously looking back at him. He looked…incredulous.

               “Oh I don’t know, maybe I’m just making sure you wake up.” Azriel cocked his head to the side, anger filling his eyes. “Why would you do that Y/N? I would have been perfectly fine, but you almost got yourself killed, you had no right to do that to yourself on my behalf!”

               “It’s not like I can help it!” Your voice was hoarse, and you winced at the scratchiness In your throat. He grabbed a cup of water for you on the nightstand, and you drank almost the whole thing. “Azriel- can I be honest?”

               “Please do, I need a good explanation.” He retorted, sarcasm lacing his tone. His shadows were surrounding you, but seemed almost- relieved.

               “I can’t watch people in pain.” You whispered, “Watching you in pain killed me inside, and even though you hate and can’t stand to be around me, I couldn’t just watch you go through that.”

               “I did hate you.” Azriel says, grabbing your hand. “How else was I supposed to feel? You had killed people I knew, people with families, tortured for fun and acted like you enjoyed it. Hell- I think the whole court hated you.”

               You looked down, nodding, tears in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

               “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Y/n.” You looked up, locking eyes with Azriel, “I was such an idiot, the signs were there, and you’re a terrible liar. When I saw the scars on your back, I – I lost my shit. Literally. I don’t Madja is going to let me anywhere near the healing quarters anytime soon.”

               “I was just trying to help people the only way I knew how.” You whispered, a tear spilling. He nodded, reaching up and cupping your face.

               “I feel like a monster too, I’ve killed and tortured, but I’ve always done it in the name of our court.” He exhaled shakily, giving you a small smile. “But you are kind, and I have just been so frustrated over the past couple of months because I wanted to hate you so much- but couldn’t bring myself to. Watching you laugh with Cassian and Feyre, I felt so helpless like you could never open up to me like that. I literally couldn’t even be in the same room as you, because I felt so…jealous for no reason.”

               “Rhys- when he told me about us going together, I was angry. Angry that he would put you in danger just for the sake of getting us to get along.” You watched anger fill his eyes, “and he almost got you killed.”

               “I’m okay.” You reassured, smiling through the tears that were still falling.

               “just make me a promise, okay?” Azriel released the grip on your face and grabbed your hand, fiercely. “I never want you to take my pain again, or anyones for that matter, okay? My pain is mine to bear, alone.”

               You nodded, feeling some relief. “Thank you Azriel, I…this means a lot to me. I’ve been wanting to tell you everything for so long.”

               “I want to hear everything,” he squeezed your hand again, and you could feel your heart flutter. “I will never let you get hurt again, and honestly…Azriel is so formal. I’m okay with Azzie….as long as its between us.”

[lunavrse]

（ OSCAR PIASTRI ）✶ ── APRIL FOOLS

✶ summary : some people ship you and oscar and some people don't even know that you're aware of each other's existence so your latest post really gets people riled up.

✶ category : smau

✶ notes : heyyyyyy. short little smau to get back into the swing of things, maybe I'll post more, probably not. this is for the anon who asked me about this months ago. i'm so sorry, I hated all the other versions of this and finally got some inspiration the other day and now i'm running with it. times and dates? irrelevant! spelling mistakes? (mostly) intentional !

Liked by bestfrienduser, logansargent, zendaya and 5 649 263 others

oscarpiastri at long last love has arrived

View all 7 826 comments

user somebody shoot me, like right now

user what. the. fuck.

user happy April 1st!!! hahaha!!!! so funny!!! very practical jokester!!!

user the way they look at each other 😭😭😭

user shayne and courtney core

user sobbing, nobody talk to me right now

user congratulations 🎉

user love that i clicked on your post notification and immediately got attacked😊

user please say this is for a movie

user idk, these look a little TOO real

user to LAURYN HILL??!?!! oh I'm kms if this isn't real

user i think i missed a few chapters...

user honey, the book wasn't even published

user what a beautiful couple 😍

lando you guys are unbelievable

user oh so it's fake, thanks for the confirmation

lando where did i say that?

user oh so it's real❓

lando didn't say that either

user you're a horrible person and not even your good looks can save you

lando so you think i'm good looking, thank you😏

user oh who is you

user oh Oscar's decided to become an actor, good for him

user even you don't believe that

user SOMEONE SAY SIKE RN

user real or not, they look so good together

user WHAT DO YOU MEAN YN LN AND OSCAR PIASTRI NOT ONLY KNOW EACH OTHER BUT ARE MARRIED??!!??!???

user life is not real

user craziest crossover

user please god, let this be real, i need this

user I really want to be it to be real but this literally looks like a movie and yn is an actor

user a movie with their friends and family?

user well, you can't really see their faces and movies always need extras

user not even joking, i genuinely dropped to my knees in despair

user the mclaren admin is going through it in the comments and they're so me

user real ones know oscar's been dating someone

user BUT HER?!??!! how did he keep that a secret

user genuinely don't know, if i was dating yn, i'd be singing it from the rooftops

user guess that's why they're married and you're alone

user 😦 too soon

user i basically stalk him and i didn't even know

user uhhh that's not...

user going in for more kisses?? destroyed me

nicolepiastri Welcome to the family(officially)! We're so excited to have you.

user everybody pack it up, nicole just confirmed it

user i won't believe it until april 3 bc she loves to go along with a joke

user i'm gonna cry

user this is how I'm gonna announce my relationship, no soft launching, just pictures from my wedding

user am i being punked rn

hattiepiastri finally oscar's done something useful! so happy to be able to call you my sister

user mans is literally a f1 driver but rn his biggest accomplishment is marrying yn

user well yes!

user this is so sweet

user ugh i love the piastris

mclaren my favourite actress marries my team's driver and i'm not even invited to the wedding 😭 why do bad things happen to me😭😭

user atp i need to go to the oscar piastri and tom holland school of manifestation

user i get tom because of the obvious but why Oscar?

user because i need to end up with matthew gray gubler or i will die

user so real of you

user added context bcz op's not adding it but there's a youtube video of a younger oscar mentioning that yn is his celeb crush

user WHAT? so nobody was going to mention this to me??

user i can send you the link?

user SEND ME THAT! SEND ME THAT!

user me too!!!

user me 3

user here's the link for anyone who wants to know : https://youtu.be/5cfbKEK5gzU?si=HwTsDDBAjF8stXly

user you're a doll !

user this is the hardest of hard launches😵‍💫

user ugh i love seeing gorgeous people together

user i would kill for this type of wedding

user I swear if they've linked up just to do this prank, i will commend them for the dedication to the bit but i will also lose my mind

user i won't believe this until i see a marriage certificate

user what in the snowbunny mind control 🫣

user very on brand i fear

user lord please, when will it be my turn🙏🏼

zendaya beautiful bride, beautiful wedding, beautiful day

user i just know she slayed

user call it a jlo concert ticket because I'm not buying it🙂‍↔️

user nae nae i know this is you

mclaren wow, so nobody told admin that oscar was dating yn and is now *checks notes* MARRIED to her... fake! ALL OF YOU

user don't worry admin, we all know how you feel

user swear i would've told you had i known🤞

user I feel like I'm in a mass hallucination

user no shade, it's all that shrooms n weed.

user you saying no shade doesn't mean shit and also doesn't mean you can publicly air out my business

user and yet i said what i said.

user best believe i'll be at your door in ten minutes

user oh oh oh oh oh shiver me timbers, girl please, you not gon do nothing.

user OK EVERYBODY GO HOME, APRIL FOOLS IS CANCELLED

user sure i knew they knew each other because they're celebrities and yn attends races when she can but this is insane

tomholland2013 you're joking

user we know you were there!!!

user is this gaslighting? am i being gaslighted right now? cause there's absolutely no way

user no, that's what your boyfriend does to you everytime you catch him cheating. this is real, keep up.

user UNPROVOKED?!?

user everyone on twitter who said i was crazy for shipping this was gagged🙂‍↕️

mclaren even lando knew??? omfg they hate me

lando what's that supposed to mean?

user that you're not very reliable and you can't keep secrets, pick one🤷‍♀️

lando er, don't you mean or?

user no.

user say sike right now, i'm begging you

user what is up with all of my favourite internet people and announcements on april fools??? like do they want me to go insane 😭😭

user okay

user they definitely posted this and immediately turned their phones off

user can't say i blame them

user I'd do the same

user saw a tweet about this and had to come running to see if it was true

user I'll believe it’s a prank until they both confirm it every day for the next few years

user "everyone who thinks this is real is so dumb" ok shut up, either it's not real and you can appreciate the prank or it is real and you're still not better than everyone else

youruser and oscarpiastri has added to their story.

user: see, you could convince five of your friends to get dressed up so i don't even know what's going on right now

user: like i said, unless there's a marriage certificate, i do not believe it😪

user: i won't believe it and i won't accept it

user: this is such a great bit, next april fools' joke should be pregnancy!

lunavrse: i think i did a good job at making the dresses blue but don't look too closely 🙏

user: a day i will continuously try to erase from my mind

user: my sister's gonna be devastated by this, can't wait to tell her😈

user: you're actually married? diva down✊😔

bridesmaiduser: ugh we look so good 😊

user: women>>>

user: what a beautiful venue

user: I’m going to carry on with my day and pretend this isn’t true

user: so jealous

bridesmaid2user: so lucky to be apart of your beautiful day❤️

user: this makes me feel so lonely, but congratulations on your (real) marriage

user: just cause you rented a venue doesnt make you married!!

user: you're lucky you got to her before me

logansargent: with the amount of alcohol available I'm surprised i didn't forget my own name

user: insert I don't need sleep, I need answers meme

tagged : oscarpiastri, officiant

Liked by oscarpiastri, bestfrienduser and others

youruser yes we are actually married. sorry to everyone who wants him, the boy is mine💋

View all 2 328 comments

user i feel like I've been stabbed

user i've been stabbed, this is worse actually 😀

user you're taking the piss

user can we talk about how good you look!!!!

user To Japanese denim?!!??! OH😭

user never dedicating that song for NO ONE

user especially not for a man😔

user right😭😭

user sooo happy for you guys... but seriously, on the phone that i pay for is crazy

user i know that man don't play about you

user me and pookie

user girl what❓ your man stay playing in your face

user glad this wasn't a prank, genuinely happy you guys are together ❤️

user girl, the boy in question said he sees god in your eyes, you won

bestfrienduser guys this is a joke, she's actually married to me and we just had oscar fill in for the prank

youruser you play too much

user you know I'd actually believe this

oscarpiastri yeah absolutely, thanks for letting me be apart of the special moment🙏

user i've had a few days to come to terms with this and i still can't believe this is real, like this is the timeline im in 🤯

user reacted '👍🏽' to your message

user this took me out

user real

user now you're just flexing on us and i don't mind it🤷‍♀️

user Oh how I love this song

oscarpiastri i only want you, can't even think about anyone else

youruser i'm obsessed with you.

user how i want my man

user may a love like this find me

user okay, you've convinced me, congratulations on your marriage🫶

user still don't see a marriage certificate 🥱

user ITS REAL?!?!

rachelzegler wait-

user just opened this app btw

oscarpiastri my wife everybody!!!

youruser my husband!!!!

user ofc he's a wife guy, love that 🤭

zendaya they're so in love it's sickening

youruser nawtt the woman who gushed about how in love she is with her partner only yesterday, unprovoked mind you

user real lover girls🙂‍↕️

zendaya and i stand by my words

user okay, i checked out the wedding officiant's page and it seems legit, they're actually married you guys

user sometimes you really just have to say damn and scroll

charlesleclerc oh my god you guys, I thought this was just for the bit, can't believe that was a real ceremony

user you're not funny, the jokes over😶

user Ariana Grande mention🚨🚨🚨

oscarpiastri has added to their story.

user: you're not special, i also see god in her eyes, in fact i cry because she's so beautiful

user: you're so real for this

user: i believe this how every man should think about his wife *olivia wilde nodding gif*

user: and i was right

youruser: still can't believe i get to wake up next to you

oscarpiastri: best feeling in the world

user: yeah, I'd be bragging about the fact that i married her every chance i get

user: you know, you're actually kinda funny sometimes. catches me off guard

user: drop the manifestation technique king🙏

user: you're the only man who deserves rights

and also my boyfriend

user: she's so gujdehnht. you're so lucky

user: wishing y'all a lifetime of happiness

user: Oscar how could you do this to me? this was supposed to be us ever since we locked eyes in a mall that one time. I don't know how you could betray me and just go on your day like what we had didn't matter.

user: life is so crazy, one day im shipping you and the next you're married

user: saw the interview, read the article and I'm still shocked

youruser has added to their story.

[spiderb00bs]

- Lying To Me, Lying To You

Tara Carpenter x reader  (request)

"Tara has lied to herself her whole life, and she thinks it's time for it to end” 

Genre – fluff, angst and Smut at the end          

Warnings – smut, and bit of internalized homophobia? 

Now playing – Lied To, by Zayn 

Tara Carpenter hadn't known you in a long time, not so much when she knew her sister, or her friends, or her boyfriend. Tara had known you for six months, six months fucked up with confusion and questioning. Young Carpenter didn't want to, she didn't want to be weird when you were around, saying weird trivia about horror movies to you, just because she couldn't sit still around you. She didn't want to watch every moment of you like a fucking crazy woman, not being able to take her eyes off you when you did the smallest things. And she definitely didn't want to walk away from Chad every time he got close to her. 

Chad was a good boy, he was kind, funny sometimes and he was very good at sports, he was everything a girl would want, right?! He also sided with Tara when all that Ghostface craziness happened. He was a nice guy. So why couldn't Tara love him like she should?

Tara's head was spinning, she was in the corner of the room, having already had more drinks than she could remember, and from that corner, she had the most beautiful view of the whole party, you. Talking to your other friends, you had a plastic cup in your hand. You wore baggy black jeans, and a shirt that fits your body well, Tara is sure she has seen many other people like this, but none of them had ever been as perfect as you. 

Tara wasn't alone, but she had run away from Chad an hour ago, trying to find a way to get away from the boy without hurting him. Tara felt bad, she felt like all the tears she'd held back since she met you were about to overflow. Tara wanted to cry, kick, scream at everyone, her body ached without your touch, and her eyes watered when she remembered all the minutes she couldn't be around you.    Tara wasn't confused, she never was. The denial, everything she convinced herself to live were just consequences of a fear that she had deep in her chest. She knew that what she felt for Amber – Before all the events – were not things that a straight girl felt for her best friend, she had lied practically her entire life. 

But with you, she couldn't contain herself, she was stronger than anything, even Amber. Tara wanted to die every time she saw you walk by, she wanted to die whenever she had to sit next to Chad when you and the rest of her friends hang out together. She wanted to be sitting next to you, she wanted to hold your hand, smell you, hear your laughter, she wanted to be with you.    The taste in Tara's mouth was bitter, and she couldn't really tell if it was because of the cheap drink she had, or because she wasn't in your arms, laughing at whatever stupid thing you were saying to your friends, and being introduced to them as your girlfriend. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Tara saw Chad, probably looking for her in the crowd. Being quick, Tara hurried her steps towards the kitchen, looking back to make sure Chad hadn't seen her, Tara bumped into someone, losing her balance and closing her eyes when she was sure she was going to fall to the floor. When she felt a hand holding her by the waist, Tara was relieved, but not as much as she was when she saw your face.    "YN!" Young Carpenter screamed, hugging you by the shoulders, and with that alone, you could tell she was drunk as fuck. "I was thinking of you."    "I hope good stuff." You said laughing. Tara had this power with you, to make you laugh even when you were anxious, or afraid, in which case, you were worried. "Where are the people? Or Chad?" You asked, looking around. 

"I don't know, I just wanted to be alone for a while." Tara said, if you weren't so worried, you sure would have noticed the way the woman was looking at you.    Tara's eyes sparkled, looking up, watching your entire face carefully and gently, as if you were the eighth wonder of the world, as if you would disappear if she took her eyes off you.    "Well, that's kind of impossible at a party." You said, laughing a little, but stopping when you saw Tara's gaze at you. "Hey, are you okay?"    The genuine concern in your voice made Tara melt, oh man, how much she wanted you so much. Every fiber of her body longed for you, and she was slowly starting to realize how stupid she was for neglecting herself for so long.    "Yes..." 

You didn't trust Tara's answer, something seemed wrong, almost as if she wanted to say something more. Her eyes were bright, but now, they looked more like accumulated tears.    "I think I'd better take you home, you've had too much to drink, Tara." with a nod, Tara followed you to your car, parked in front of the noisy house. She would go to the end of the world if it meant going with you.    In the car, Tara was a little thoughtful, she ran away from a party, ran away from her boyfriend, just to go home with you. She didn't think about anything, she just thought about what she wanted to do at that moment. Looking out the car window, Tara thought of all the possibilities that this night could end in, she could kiss you, she could get out of the car, say goodbye to you and never make contact with you again, until she and Chad got married and she lived a mediocre life with him. But once again, she would be lying to herself. 

You respected Tara's space, but in your head, you were freaking out too. You were with the girl you had a crush on since the day you saw her. You knew Tara was dating, you knew wishing to be with her was wrong, you knew she was straight, and you felt terrible about it.    The drive to Tara's apartment was quiet, thoughtful, and a little awkward, and accompanying Tara to her floor was even worse. Tara was still a little giddy from all the drinks she had, so you were constantly making sure she didn't miss the steps.    "All right, do you have your keys?" You asked, taking the key from Tara's hand as she handed it to you.    Opening the door, you waited for Tara to come in first, closing the door and going to the youngest of the Carpenters, who had thrown herself on the couch. 

“No, no, no. You have to go to your room, if Sam finds out I dumped you here she'll kill me.” You said, trying to pull the girl off the sofa.   

As you tried to pull Tara off the sofa, you were surprised when the short girl used more force and pulled you, making you fall on top of her on the sofa.   

“Tara!” You said, seeing the girl laugh, and unable to resist, you laughed along with Tara.   

“You didn't expect that, did you?” Tara said, still laughing.  

When the laughter started to die down, you realized how close you and Tara were, your breaths mingling and making the whole atmosphere more intense. You knew you should walk away, but Tara didn't have the same thought.   

Tara wanted you. She was tired of not getting what she wanted, she was tired of always putting herself second, neglecting what she really wanted. No, Tara wanted to end it, and as much as she hated hurting Chad, she knows she'll hate hiding it for longer. Then, when you least expected it, Tara's lips were glued to yours.   

 You were surprised, you wanted it, but it was wrong, Tara was in a relationship. Chad was your friend, and here you were, practically lying on top of her girlfriend, kissing her with all the desire you'd been holding back for six months.  

“Tara.” You tried to say, only to be drowned out by Tara's mouth. “Tara, that's wrong.” You said, finally pulling away from the young Carpenter and sitting down on the sofa.   

Your hands quickly went to your hair, brushing them back as you thought about how good and wrong that felt. Tara stood up, sitting down next to you, the two of you's breathing the only things that could be heard in the apartment.   

“I think I should go.” You said, getting up from the sofa.  

Quickly feeling your wrist being grabbed, you looked at Tara, who wasn't looking back at you. Tara was looking at the floor, you couldn't see it, but tears had started to gather in the young Carpenter's eyes. 

“Stay, please.” You sat down on the sofa immediately, it was as if your body was simply commanded by her and now you couldn't go anywhere.   

Sitting there again, Tara looked at you for the first time, you could see tears slowly making their way down her face, and you were confused as to why she was crying.   

“I like you.” It was the only thing she said. You were petrified, it seemed that she had finally put everything she had ever wanted to say out there.   

“What?”   

“I like you, Yn. I've liked you since the beginning, I know it's wrong, but I couldn't hide it any longer.” Tara replied, still holding your hand. 

“When you say it's wrong, you mean...” You looked into her eyes.  

 “No, not that. I don't feel wrong for liking you, I feel wrong for the way I said it to you.” Tara squeezed your hand tightly. “I've been lying to myself my whole life, Yn. And when I saw you for the first time I broke a little, you broke me little by little, until now. I can't hide it anymore because I'm in love, Yn.”   

You felt the young Carpenter start to tense up, tears streaming down her face and you clasped her hand in yours, trying to bring her some kind of comfort.   

“I don't like Chad, I never did. I can't love him the way he loves me, I can't love any guy, Yn. And I know I said, damn it, I knew I said it all along, I was just so scared...”   

A sob cut off Tara's speech, causing the girl to simply collapse in front of you. Quickly wrapped in your arms, Tara began to cry hard, sobbing, shaking and collapsing into you.   

You couldn't believe it, the girl you had fallen in love with was in love with you too. Your world had turned completely around, sirens were going off in your head, and an instant feeling of relief came over you. However, all this was quickly swept aside when you remembered that you had to comfort Tara.   

“All right, put it out.” You said, cradling Tara in your arms.   

Sniffling and trying to wipe away the tears that flowed, Tara pulled her face away from your chest, looking at you for the first time in a few minutes.   

“I'm sorry.” It was the first thing she said. Opening a slight smile of understanding, and putting the messy strands of Tara's hair back in place, you sighed.   

“Don't apologize. I like you too, Tara.” The sparkle in the young Carpenter's eyes seemed to return as soon as the words left your mouth. “I've really fallen for you, you're one of the most amazing, strong, funny and captivating people I've ever met.” A smile grew on Tara's face, she couldn't think of a better way for this conversation to go.   

“But there's still Chad.”  

“I'm going to break up with him.”   

Without even thinking twice, Tara said it looking you in the eye, how could you even doubt her when she said it with such certainty?  

“Wow, okay, wait.” You sat down properly on the sofa. “Tara, I love that you're finally okay, and that you're allowing yourself to be discovered, but take it easy.” You held the woman's hand.   

“I just want to get back everything I lost, Yn. Everything I lost with you.” Tara said, taking your face in her hands.  

“I know. But how about this, you take a week for yourself, think about what you want to do and think only about you. I'll be here anyway, waiting for you.” You say, taking her hands in yours and kissing them gently.   

At six in the morning, someone was impatiently ringing your doorbell. Fearing it might be a nutter, you made your way quietly to the door, still trying to get your eyes to focus and your mind to start working. It was too early, you'd just woken up, and whoever this crazy person was, you were going to kick their ass for waking you up so early on a free day.   

Trying to see what was bothering you so early through the peephole, all you could see was the top of a head, strands of brown hair falling over it, and at that moment you were even more confused, why was the Carpenter gnome knocking on your door so early?  

“Tara, what are you doing here so...” Before you could even speak, you were cut off by a Tara Carpenter jumping on you like a koala and kissing you lovingly.   

It was almost like a wife seeing her husband off to war, that was definitely love. The kiss was slow and loving, and you held Tara's thighs so that she had a foothold. Entering the apartment, you closed the door as you stood, going over to the sofa and settling the young Carpenter on your lap.   

“I broke up with him.” Tara said into the kiss, running her hands up your hair and messing it up even more. “I want you. Please, I'm crazy for you.”   

You had given Tara the week you told her about. She was discovering herself, doing the things she should have done a long time ago, while you were too busy with college exams. There wasn't much time left to meet up with your friends over the last few days, and it seems that someone missed you a lot.   

“Did you break up with Chad?” You asked, turning away from Tara to grab some oxygen before you were pulled into the young Carpenter's love cloud again.   

“I told you, Yn. I want you, I always wanted you.” Tara's eyes sparkled and her smile reflected yours.  

Moving closer again, you kissed, finally doing what you'd wanted to do since you first met. Tara's hands ran freely through your hair, while yours tightened around her waist. Pulling away slightly, Tara grabbed the hem of the shirt she was wearing, pulling it up and off, making you copy her movements.   

With one swift movement, you turned her around, making her lean back on the couch while you knelt in front of her. Distributing kisses across her collarbone, you traced your way down, and with quick hands, you removed the bra the younger Carpenter was wearing without wasting any time. Tara moaned when she felt your mouth on her nipple, and when you reached out and massaged the other nipple, she thought she was in heaven.   

After giving each nipple equal attention, you trailed your kisses down Tara's abs, running your hands along the button of her pants before directing your gaze at her.  

“Can I take these off you?” you asked, a look full of desire on your face as you eagerly played with the button of Tara's pants.   

“Do whatever you want to me, baby.” That's what you wanted to hear.  

Unbuttoning Tara's pants, you slid the fabric down the Carpenter girl's legs, climbing back up towards her intimacy and distributing kisses on her thighs. You could see the wet spot that had formed on Tara's panties, and looking down at her, you gave her clit a little kiss over the fabric, making her moan softly at you.  

Smiling, you removed Tara's panties and put her legs on your shoulders. The woman looked at you expectantly, her breathing was labored, and when you finally gave her the first lick, Tara could have sworn she saw stars. Throwing her head back, the woman enjoyed every movement of your tongue in her intimacy, grabbing your hair when your tongue went deep inside her for the first time.   

Tara didn't know sex could be so good, she had never experienced anything like it. The sensation was overwhelming, and every little stimulation she felt brought her to a paradise on earth. Tara had been eaten out before, but it was never like this, it never had the same passion, the same sensations, the same dedication and it certainly never had the same meaning.   

Your tongue ran through Tara's folds, finding new spots that even she didn't know existed, and suddenly, a noose began to form in the young Carpenter's bowels. Tara had cum before, she thought, she wasn't sure. But the point is, what had you done to her? Tara's legs began to tremble, her body spasmed in ways she couldn't control, and just as she was beginning to try to pull away, you held her in place.  

You didn't care about the noise complaints, and even if you did, you couldn't contain Tara's loud moans. Your hand, which was pressed a little lower on her abs, seemed to have awakened something inside the Carpenter girl, and in the midst of the spasms and moans, her juices began to flow, staining your lips and chin.   

Kissing her thighs, you waited for her to recover. Without even realizing that you had risen from your position on the floor, Tara was only brought out of her little world when you kissed her, making her taste herself on your lips.   

“I'm really in love with you.” Tara said, making you laugh.   

“Ready for one more or do you need a break?” 

“Can you go one more? Can we get married?” 

Hi guys, I wanted to start by saying that I haven't proofread this yet, cause I'm a bit busy organizing things for college. so if anything is wrong, please ignore it, I'll correct it later.

Also, I was going to put 'good lucky, baby' for this fic, but I'm just addicted to this Zayn song, and it kind of inspired me a bit.

But anyway, I hope you enjoyed this fic, I loved writing it.

stay safe, drink water

xoxo, spider

[misayani]

I LOVED UR SE-MI FIC! i was wondering if u could do another where the reader is homesick and has nightmares/ dreams about her friends and her home life and just going to se-mi's bed for comfort? (I hope this isn't too much trouble!!)

LOVE, MY WORLD IS FULL — SE-MI (PLAYER 380)

◜ pairing ... se-mi / player 380 x  fem reader

◜you wouldn't know what to do without se-mi. 

𔗨 author's note — had so much fun writing this <3 kinda unleashed my inner william shakespeareness in this one [lowercase intended]

♡ upcoming fic — g!p no-eul + reader

— comfort

you thought the games were harmless—bright colors, cheerful instructions, and an unassuming entry form. yet underneath all that promised fun lay a rather horrifying truth. you were blinded, not by sight but by your own naivety. 

how could you be so dumb? you should've known this game was sketchy ever since from the start, where they somehow made you all unconcious to bring to this place. where even are you? 

life is full of shit, you were fully aware of that, but you didn't expect it to be this shitty. tears started to form in your eyes as you thought of your dog, sparks, who's the reason why you're here. you didn't have any owe anyone money, you don't drag yourself to shit like that. but sparks was the dog your grandmother left you before she died, and unfortunately, sparks was recently diagnosed with congestive heart failure— he needed medical help. 

if someone can hear your thoughts right now, they'd probably laugh and tell you that it's just a dog, stop overreacting. but sparks wasn't just a dog. he grew up with you, he is family. he was the reason you kept going after your grandmother died, you could remember it—you locking yourself inside your room and not coming out for days, until you heard whines outside your door. shit, the dog. it annoyed you that you still needed to feed that dog. what's the point? he's gonna die anyways. just like everyone. 

a quiet sob escapes your mouth as your tears finally fall, from your eyes and onto the white sheets underneath you. you couldn't sleep, you were too bothered as to how so many people voted to stay in this game. you couldn't even even consider it a game, games were supposed to be fun. 

you voted to go home right after the first game, the staying team won. this night was after everyone voted for the second time, once again, the majority voted to stay. you find it funny— how money can have such an affect on people, but also at the same time, you couldn't blame the people who wanted to stay. maybe staying here was somehow better than their lives outside. they just had voted for their own 'lesser evil.' 

you needed someone right now. after being alone for 14 years, living independently, it was hard for you to bottle your feelings to yourself. the first person you can think of right now was se-mi. you had started talking to her before any of these games started, when the masked men just started explaining the rules and regulations. 

she was different, she understood you. she had asked you your reason to be here, you hesitantly told her, slightly embarassed but she didn't laugh or anything like that. she, in fact, smiled at your eagerness to win this game so you'd finally have some finance for your dog. well, that was before the games happened and before shit went down. 

you sniffle as you sit up and slip out of bed, every footstep quiet to not bother anyone sleeping. se-mi was just stairs ahead from you and you were surprised but relieved to see her still awake. she was laying on her back, staring towards the ceiling before she notices you and sits up to make room for you to sit down.

"hi," you start, gently sitting yourself down on her bed. 

"hi." she repeats, her eyes softening at the sight of your puffy eyes, "sparks?" 

you glanced at her, eyes wide as she managed to immediately caught onto whatever you were thinking. you nod, "i'm sorry for bothering you, just needed someone. and i thought you're the right person to approach."

se-mi's heart swells, she never had anyone tell her that before. you trusted her enough to see you vulnerable like this? she clears her throat before reassuring you, "it's no worries. i like talking to you anyways."

she scoots closer to sit beside you, planting her feet on the stairs beside the bunk bed. you fiddled with your fingers as you look down, before you hear her speak up. "i'm sorry for voting to stay."

you snap your head to look at her as you shake your head, "no, no. i don't— you don't have to say sorry for having freedom to choose whatever you want." you mutter.

"still, it was shitty for me to do that. i knew about your situation but i still vo—" you cut her off, "stop. it's not your fault. it's nobody's." she locks eyes with you as her lips part as if wanting to say something, until it closes again.

you sigh, "who cares if you were shitty. everything is shitty. life is shitty." you murmured, "life is shitty." she agrees, staring at your side profile. you noticed her in your peripheral vision and you get flustered, tipping your head down.

"it's hard." you glance at her again, seeing her eyes now staring forward as she spoke, "life outside. it's no different from here. some people say that life outside of here is easier, since you're not trapped in some unknown place. but i don't see how that is any different, aren't you still somehow trapped? not literally but figuratively." you hum, prompting her to continue.

"it's ironic how the ones with the heavy debts say that, as if they're not trapped in their own mistakes." se-mi chuckles beside you as you carefully listen to every word she's saying. talking to someone have always made you feel at peace— something that you don't feel often since you've never really communicated with anyone until now. 

"it's not about being physically imprisoned, but about feeling constrained in many ways, whether by circumstances, expectations, or some shit you dragged yourself into. in the end, no matter where you are, you can still feel confined. that's how i see it, atleast." she finishes.

you grab her hand that was closest to you, and started fidgeting with it instead of fiddling with your own fingers. her hand was warm but rough, in contrast to yours which was cold, but soft. "i understand." you murmur.

you both understood each other, and that alone was enough to provide you comfort. you admired her mindset, not just how  she thinks but how she embraces her own perspective with peace— her ability to see things from a different angle, yet still find peace in it. 

even if you both had casted your votings to two opposing things, there was an underspoken understanding between the two of you. despite the differences, se-mi and you shared a mutual respect, and that makes you so close to her. 

"thank you." you whispered, se-mi snaps her head to look at you, "for what?" 

"talking to me." you reply, "it feels nice to talk to someone like you, understanding but aren't scared to state their own opinion. i appreciate that so much. i haven't felt so understood in years." you feel tears well up in your eyes from getting emotional.

se-mi's lips form into a smile, "well i guess thank you too. you somehow make this place even more tolerable." she squeezes your hand that was holding hers. 

"cmon, stay with me tonight. i don't want to make you go back to bed like this." she tugs at your hand before leading you under her blanket—which started to smell like her— lifting the cloth over the both of you. 

you wanted to cuddle with her, but were too shy to initiate anything. lucky for you, se-mi opens her arms, pulling you towards her. your body relaxes as you feel her warm body spoon yours. you heard her mutter something on top of your head, "keep on being brave." she pauses before continuing,  "for sparks and me."

your once empty heart started to feel full again after this.

@misayani

[r0-boat]

That time of the month guys, You know what I must do...

Whb Kings on your Period

All Kings x AFAB! reader NSFW No sex just extremely suggestive... Blame three individuals

....Wait a minute... If Lilith makes the kids does that mean demon women don't have periods? Probably looking too much into it...

Edit: This is supposed to be a fun post, But at the end of this, I went down several rabbit holes... Please don't be like me don't think 😭

Cw: mentions of pussy eating (You probably know who it is already lol), no . Suggestive,(alluding to sex on. But never happens because demons are fucking weird)

Satan

You're different somehow every month, and he can't put his finger on it. But your short-tempered rage makes him giggle like a teenager and kick his feet. You have such a low tolerance, super BS, and he loves that. And he wants to know why he never smelled this off Solomon before, so it must be you that's different. When Satan asks you, you sigh and put your hands to your mouth before giving him a 20-minute explanation.

...Holy shit? You're what now??? He thought humans creating little people it was crazy now what you're telling him is that humans have the power to shed their skin from the inside and shit it out??? Can he see it?!

... The mental image, He had and the real thing was not what he expected are you okay Oh my God there's so much again. He never wants to see that much blood come out of you ever again. The way you made this man fear more than any angel by that explanation alone. The way you have this man scampering to a human store to get whatever you ask to help ease the pain even if it's just for a little.

When he tells you that demon women don't have periods He swore your rage was emanating off you and Leviathan could probably feel you're jealousy from all the way in Hades.

Hi I think Satan using a period cramp simulator would be very funny and very entertaining...

Bonus non-cannon:

Fem!Satan: Would have the worst periods known to woman. The streets of Gehanna are deserted because the moment something slightly inconveniences her a whole building is collapsing. I wouldn't blame her, her period cramps will hurt worse than Gabriel stabbing a sword through her uterus before punching her in the gut.

Mammon

He'll buy you literally everything. It doesn't matter if you use tampons pads or cups because he's already bought everything. He's either got it from Lucifer or you made an offhand comment about it and he did his own research. He's very proud that he's prepared for his master.

Like he'll already get you everything But when you're on your period you actually have a reason to accept all his things especially if it's junk food. This is awesome! You're letting him pamper you!!! He wishes you can have periods all the time!

(one explanation later) What the fuck? Never mind. Aren't you scared of running out of blood?

He wish he could grant you something that take the way the pain and discomfort easily but Tartaros never really had that problem so they don't really have any solutions. Instead he'll just stick to spoiling you with food.

Watching Mamon's eyes go wide when he sees how much a tampon soaks up water is pretty funny.

Bonus non-cannon:

Fem!Mammon: She hates it. She hates it so much that she spends the money and resources to immediately either go to the human world or recreate a Depo shot or an implant to get rid of it. And she regularly changes it when she has to.

Leviathan

He smelled blood and he thought you were going to get killed. He was literally ready to die protecting you. He was so angry that he got worked up over nothing at first until he saw how much pain you were in.

Beelzebub

Why does your body insist on doing something that harms itself Is it stupid or is your body hating you. If you insist on being useless then you can just lay in bed!

After the initial Levi snark is gone he comes back to check on you. He actually looks really worried and thinks you might die. Freaking out frantic calls tulucifer after initial back and forth Lucifer insists that what they're feeling is normal.

All of the novels will be looking after you He doesn't want you leaving the bed just in case you might trip and die or accidentally get yourself hurt. He genuinely thinks you might die.

He will silently open your door stare at you and see if you're doing all right and then close the door, Rinse and repeat until you either yell at him ask him what he's doing. He will either respond with arguing back.

Bonus non-canon:

Fem!Leviathan: when she's on her period you literally will never see her. She's so glad She connected her bathroom too her bedroom. It's because she sheds her scales she's not joking. She actually does shed her scales on her period Will she show you fuck no. The moment she starts bleeding you're never seeing her again until she stops.

Honestly he was zoning out through half of your explanation until you mention the actual 'bleeding' process. Then you just see him lean inward putting his chin on his hands. So you're telling him... There is a way to consume you without hurting you?

This fucker has to stay away from you 10 ft away. He is SOOOO on board with eating you out. Keep Guy 10 ft away from you He would be absolutely no help except for maybe eating junk food and bringing you snacks.

He will laugh at your horrid, disgusted face because he just loves your cute little reactions. He raises his hand during the lecture on human anatomy to the Kings, and you told him to put his hand back down because you're not answering any of his batshit questions because you know it's going to be the second worst thing you've ever heard.

Bonus non-cannon:

It's okay though he'll never remember you period though he will always know because he could smell it (insert that one meme) he'll deadass forget that humans can bleed like that and occasionally get scared to smell blood on you before remembering.

He's still this day wonders about us question "if He sucks it all out Would the period be over?"

Fem! Beel: she's lost so much of her cute underwear from being forgetful. I could definitely see her getting an implant or Depo so she doesn't have to remember, but she kind of already forgets her appointments, too.

Lucifer

Human menstrual cycle...He's not stupid He was part of the creation when God made humans to breed with one another. He not only sees it as a normal thing but something special that human women have that sets them apart from demons and angels.

He doesn't understand your disgust and hatred by something explicitly given to you and all human women by God.

He offers to change your mind as he gets on his knees and you start adamantly declining and screaming. Now he really is confused....

About half of the other devils are defending your case when Lucifer brings it up at the next meeting. Though it's so split down the middle they end up discussing that topic another time.

As an 'apology' he gives you a basket with a bouquet of white lilies, painkillers and some cut fruits with card telling you to not eat unhealthy foods since it tends to make the cramps worse. And he hopes you get better.

Bonus non-cannon:

Fem!Lucifer: human female menstrual cycle yeah don't they also molt their feathers? No that's just an angel thing?? So demons also don't molt their feathers molting feathers is just an angel thing??? Other she would be super chill on her cramps, she doesn't even care.

Belphegor

The most normal, You want somewhere to rest? Lucky for you his bed is the softest in all of hell he'll make sure to take good care of you and by taking care of you he means sleeping and cuddling with you while his subordinates do all the work.

Periods actually sound like a pain in the ass He hopes he never has one You're absolutely welcome too crash at his place He understands completely about how things might be more irritating when you're constantly in pain.

Belphegor Actually really likes You're listlessness as much as he likes hard work He doesn't mind when you succumb to his sin a little bit. Especially when you're looking so cute laying on top of him. His phone screen is a picture of you smooshed against his chest with a hand on your head.

Another excuse to binge anime that he doesn't want to watch alone is a win in his book. He'll let you watch some of your favorites as well. He's not picky.

Beleth is in heaven taking care of and pampering you and his majesty. He just wish he could have you to himself for 'private' time.... menstruation? Lol a little blood isn't going to scare him.

Bonus non-cannon:

Fem!Belphegor: Nope... The last time they had their first period was when they first woke up, never again... A thousand years of menstrual pain almost put her back to sleep. Ever since she'd been dying trying to get rid of this thing causing her pain as soon as she heard Lucifer can do implants and depots She was the first one who got it. If she ever gets off at again she'll experience the same exact piercing pain she felt.... but That sounds like a problem for her future self.

Asmodeus

He completely compliance but doesn't really understand He still doesn't. After having a wife who had to deal with periods. It's a complete natural thing for the human reproductive system. And oh boy you bet he knows all about that

"You know if you really don't like it I used to have a cure that can take it away for 9 months, Would you like one? Hahah just kidding dear!"

Asmodeus 🤝Lucifer🤝Beelzebub(I think you can fill in the blank)

In all seriousness he really doesn't understand why humans don't like something that's completely natural He understands devils because devils are just naive beings in general and only certain high level angels Who worked with God don't care...

Another Tally on the board that what Asmodeus has that human men lack. Apparently basic women anatomy knowledge.

As much as he would love to take care of you again since he hasn't done that since his last wife. He doesn't think the Kings fully trust him yet so presents it is. He can tell what phase in your cycle by just scent alone, and that's scary.

Bonus non-canon:

Fem!Asmodeus: She doesn't give a fuck You better be on top of her or else she's going to have a problem. She always feels so horny her period.She's horny all the time

"It's going to be a bloodbath >:)!"

"please stop saying that..."-MC

[archangeldyke-all]

Roach verse idea:

So Sevika needed a raise. Silco needed a Santa for The Last Drop and Jinx.

The solution was obvious.

Now she’s in a hot ass suit, Roach is watching her from the bar whilst Jinx is just side-eyeing her all like ‘I KNOW ITS YOU’ like. Then with a lot of convincing, Jinx tells Santavika what she wants for Christmas.

Now Silco has his list of items and Sevika gets a raise to spoil her wonderful, lovely, beautiful girlfriend. All is well.

fucking hilarious

men and minors dni

all she fucking wanted was a winter bonus.

ever since you came around, the last drop has been getting increasingly festive with each holiday that passes. it's just the kind of person you are, everywhere you go you make people happy. this year, you even managed to convince silco to have a christmas party-- shutting the bar down and decorating it for the evening; a gift exchange planned and cookies baked for the gang.

sevika adores you for it, and for a million other reasons. and she wants to spoil you endlessly. but silco pays like shit, and jinx is always stealing sevika's pocket change before she can stash it in her change jar.

so, she asked for a bonus to close out the year.

she'd say she deserves it. this year alone, she put three competing shimmer operations out of business, managed to rig two piltover elections, and she killed like eight people for silco. or was it nine...?

either fucking way-- sevika's determined to get her money.

unfortunately for her, silco's in his own holiday predicament.

jinx, almost eleven now, has become increasingly suspicious of santa claus. it's not that the girl ever really believed-- but now that she's a sweaty, hormonal tween, she no longer feels comfortable sitting on some old man's lap and whispering all her secret wants in his ear. so, she refused to go to the promenade with silco this year to see santa.

so silco has no idea what to get his daughter for the holiday-- and he's desperate for a clue.

which is how sevika finds herself here, in an itchy white beard and a red suit, glaring at the gang as they laugh at her from her perch in her 'santa seat.'

she's gonna fucking kill silco. after he pays her, too.

"where's that jolly smile, mr. claus?" lock asks, approaching sevika with a grin. she glares up at him.

"i'm not letting you sit in my fuckin' lap."

"relax." lock laughs. he reveals a glass of whiskey from behind his back. sevika sighs in relief, taking the drink from lock. "where's your mrs. claus?"

"upstairs with jinx. the kid's dressing as a christmas tree, or something."

lock cackles.

you and jinx join the party eventually, jinx covered in green tinsel, ornaments braided into her hair. you burst into laughter at the sight of sevika, and she sighs.

"look at you, baby!" you laugh.

sevika grunts. "come sit on my lap before i die of humiliation."

you giggle, happily skipping over to her to wrap your arms around her shoulders. "how'd silco talk you into this?"

"i'm getting a winter bonus." she says. you scoff.

"what the fuck? where's my winter bonus?"

sevika chuckles. "baby, i'm spending the bonus on you."

"well what am i gonna spend on you?!"

sevika darts forward to kiss you, forgetting the beard she's wearing. you both groan and sputter, spitting white hairs out of your mouths.

"alright, santa baby. you stay here. i'll go get us some drinks and send jinx over."

sevika rolls her eyes. "this whole thing is fucking ridiculous. you have to know what she wants, why don't you just tell silco?"

"'course i do, but i also think this whole thing is the funniest thing that's happened this year and it's tradition."

sevika tries her best to act annoyed, but she can't keep from smiling when you shoot her a wink and blow her a kiss as you walk away.

jinx is glaring at sevika the entire time she's in her lap.

"this is fucking stupid." she mumbles. sevika chuckles.

"you're not the one wearing the fake beard. just hurry up and make your old man happy so we can get this night over with."

"fine. this year i want an updated encyclopedia set, a new microscope, and i wanna be able to say 'fuck' around silco." she lists off.

sevika cackles. "alright. i'll see what i can do, kid."

jinx chuckles and tugs on sevika's beard. "thanks old man." she mutters. "aren't you gonna 'ho ho ho?'"

sevika glares at jinx and the girl cackles, scrambling out of her lap before she can grab her.

just as she's about to get up and take off this ridiclious fucking costume, you plop back down in her lap, wearing a new outfit.

sevika's heart soars.

you're wearing a matching santa hat and a little red apron with fuzzy white lining. you're the perfect mrs. clause, and you've brought her whiskey.

"please help me get this beard off so i can kiss you." she whines. you laugh, reaching up to pull the fake beard off her chin. sevika sighs in relief, itching her face before reaching forward and downing her whiskey.

"better?" you ask.

sevika just smiles at you, putting her glass to the side so she can pull you in for a kiss with both hands.

you groan against her lips, flinging your arms around her shoulders and moving to straddle her legs.

across the bar, silco shrieks; scandalized. "you're supposed to sit in santa's lap, not grind on it!"

ran, lock, and deckard erput into cheers at the sight of you two.

jinx ducks behind the bar to grab a glass of ice water to toss on the pair of you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel

[buddierealm]

ʚ MISTAKES NEVER LAST — e. diaz x reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 Wordcount: 7.1k Summary: Everything gets a lot more complicated. It's also a lot easier. Warnings: MCD (canon compliant), idiot4idiot, yearning overload, dead mom waffles™, depictions of grief/injury/surgery aftermath, firetruck KA-BOOM, and they were roommates??. A/N: rip...

That secret, useless, inconvenient talent of yours comes back again. Only this time, when you inconveniently cross paths with Shannon Diaz, she’s dying. Some people would wish death upon the woman their ex is currently married to, but you can't do that. In fact, you have to save her. And quick.

Because Chim is barely holding Eddie back from coming over here. If it were anyone but Shannon, you would've already been coming to terms with the fact that this woman just isn't going to make it. You'd already done all you could to control the bleeding, but there was already too much bleeding by the time you'd arrived on site.

Hen's also there, asking her questions. Her expression isn't reassuring in the least. She looks alarmed, and a little sad. If you could look through the cloud of denial blocking all of your emotions, you'd probably look the same. But right now, you're still focused on saving her.

You yell out at the ambulance, asking why it's taking so long to bring a stretcher over here. The amount of blood pouring out onto the concrete is making you dizzy. Eddie finally makes his way over. He crouches down and looks at you in question. He'd just been told it was pretty bad by Chim, but he wants confirmation. You have to tell him the truth. You shake your head.

Then he finally looks down at her. His eyes are filled with an inexplicable sadness. You've only met Shannon Diaz four times, this one included, but you can't bear the thought that she might die. That she might die and leave Eddie and Chris alone again.

“Shannon?” Eddie calls out to her.

She sounds delirious, “Hey. Are you here?”

He gives her a tight smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes and nods.

“I'm here.”

She looks between the both of you and you can tell she's trying to smile. The universe is playing the biggest joke on her ever, and she's trying to smile. You think you can see where Christopher gets his strength from.

“Well, this is embarrassing,” she jokes.

Yeah, you wouldn’t want your husband’s almost-mistress stare at you during your last moments, either.

Hen uses her stethoscope to measure her heart rhythm and sounds. She over looks at Chimney.

“Vitals trending downwards,” she announces. It makes a pit form in your stomach.

You gulp as Chim begins handing out assignments. You let her and Eddie have a moment as you get ready to pull her up onto the backboard.

“Ready?” Chim asks, and you nod, “On three. Three, two, one.”

You pull her up by her legs, rolling her onto the backboard. She closes her eyes slightly. You can imagine the pain is intolerable. You pull her up with the rest of the paramedics and bring her to the ambulance.

You're already on the ambulance before you can think to leave. You really don't want to make this any worse for her, but it's already too late to get off. Hen needs a hand and you aren't sure you can find someone quick enough once you step off. So you stay.

“She's decompensating. We got to intubate her,” Hen yells.

You prep the intubation tube and anything else she might need. But Eddie decides against it at the last moment, which is pretty understandable. He wants a his few minutes with her to not be silent. He holds her hand on the ride to the hospital.

“I don't feel anything. That can't be good, right?” she questions. It isn't.

She gasps and starts crying. Usually, you'd have to advise against it, but you'll absolutely let her have her moment.

“Leaving again,” she begins, “I'm so sorry. I'd love... a little more time.”

“Just be silent,” he advises her.

He's right, of course, it usually helps make her chances of survival higher. But you think it's more for him than her. He doesn't want to feel this right now. He wants to stay strong for her. He smiles, and tries to stop himself from crying.

“God, I love you so much,” he whispers. “Christopher loves you so much.”

You can feel Hen sneak a glance at you. This absolutely isn't about you, and yet she's still checking on you. You nod towards her, trying not to let the dam of your tears break.

You're so sad for them both, and you can feel your heart break for Chris. He probably wasn't going to have Shannon as a mother figure in his life anyway, but there was still a possibility. This takes even that small chance away.

“I...I,” Shannon says through labored breaths, “I love you...both.”

Her eyes move backwards, and it's clear she's finding it very difficult to say what she wants to next, but she's determined to get it out.

It comes out in barely a screech, when she makes eye contact with Eddie and then you and says, “Take care...of Chris.”

And then her eyes are rolling back, and she can barely breathe. Hen and Chimney start intubating almost immediately. Eddie sits back on the ambulance bench. You both stare at her with tears in your eyes. Instinctually, you grab his hand and squeeze tight. He doesn't dare let go until you've reached the hospital.

Shannon Diaz's death hits everyone hard. It hits her son and husband the most, of course, but the impact is widespread. After the hospital, you head straight home. Your head isn't screwed on right for hours after. You spend the long minutes on the couch, staring at the ceiling in disbelief.

Eventually, you make your way to the kitchen, and before you even know it, you're making food for two extra people, and packing it into Tupperware containers. It’s the kind of thing you’ve seen friends do for each other. It’s the kind of thing you hope Shannon meant when she spoke her last words.

You change out of your uniform and get into your car with a definite location in mind. So, you aren't too shocked when you end up parked in front of the Diaz residence.

It takes you a few minutes to gather up the courage to make it out of your car. When you do, you ring the doorbell twice and wait for an answer. A minute goes by before the door swings open.

Eddie's on the other side. He looks shocked to see you. His hair's a mess. His eyes are swollen and blood-shot, like he's been crying. You hold up the bags you brought over.

“It's food. And dessert,” you explain. “I figured you don't have much energy left to cook. Kid's gotta eat, right?”

You hand him the bags and he sets them on the table beside the door. The look in his eyes says he wants to lean in and kiss the living daylights out of you. He might’ve, in another universe, where his wife, who was trying to walk out on him for the second time, hadn’t just died horrifically.

Instead, he steps onto the porch and hugs you in gratitude. You think he might've forgotten about food altogether. You smile curtly when he pulls away.

“You need anything else?” you offer. “Anything at all.”

He shakes his head immediately, and you take it as a sign to leave. As you're walking back to your car, though, he calls out to you.

“Actually,” he runs over, “It's Chris. He's been in his room ever since we got back from my abuela's. He won't come out. I don't know... I'm not sure I know how to deal with him. Do you mind trying?”

You nod right away. Of course you'd try. You both make your way inside, and he closes the door behind you. He takes the bags you'd brought into the kitchen, as you take off your coat. He tilts his head to where Chris' room is, but you already know.

You make your way through the hallway and to Christopher's door. The door's already open, but you knock anyway. He's lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. It reminds you of yourself a few hours ago. He looks over at you, and then looks back up. You take that as a sign to come in.

You walk inside slowly, and make your way to sit beside him, on the edge of the low bed. You actually aren't too sure what you'll say. You were hoping it'd come to you in the moment.

“How're you feeling?” you ask, to start off.

He just shakes his head. Okay, not much to work with.

You sigh and look at the floor. You just try to imagine what you'd want to be said to you. That seems to work wonders, because you start blurting something out before you know it.

“Y'know, I'm kind of an expert at losing people. I've lost so many someones I've loved before,” you inform him, hoping it'll build credibility. And it's true. The job doesn't come without its losses. You've seen so many friends off, you've had to watch so many heroes you considered family pass away, you watch people almost lose the people they love the most on the daily.

“I know you’re feeling a lot of things. I know you might feel like it’s your fault in some roundabout way,” you tell him, because guilt always finds a way to creep into feelings of grief.

“But I need you to know, you did everything right. Even if it was just being there with her. You did everything you could,” you affirm. It's a little good to hear yourself too.

“And I know it hurts a lot, every time you think of her,” you guess, and he nods, closing his eyes tightly.

“But over time, it’ll hurt less and less. And eventually, you’ll remember her and it’ll only hurt a little. You're so strong, Chris. And she was so strong. And so brave.”

He needs to know, you think. He needs to know that she fought for him. He should remember her well, even if she wasn't the best at staying. You grab his hand and he squeezes tightly. You smile at him, and he smiles back. You bring a hand up to trace the side of his cheek, and it makes him laugh loudly.

“You hungry, bud?” you ask.

“Yes,” he all but shouts.

“Well, there's some dinner in the kitchen. I'm sure your dad's waiting for you.”

He shoots up and makes his way towards the door. Only then, do you realize that Eddie's been standing there the whole time. He thanks you quietly, as they make their way to the kitchen.

You stand in the hallway, not sure where to go. If you and Eddie were still together, you'd have stayed for dinner. You'd have stayed the night, too. Throughout the course of your relationship, you'd forgotten enough stuff around, opting to 'borrow' Eddie's instead, that you could stay over at any time without issue.

Now, though, it feels awkward to even be here. There are almost no traces of Shannon around the house. It's like she was a ghost that wafted in and wafted out with such meticulous care, that she didn't leave anything behind. It was newfound information to you that she was planning on leaving Chris and Eddie, again.

If you weren't so saddened and shocked by her death, you'd have resented her. The time you shared being integrated into their family was the best you've ever had. You don't think you'll never understand why anyone self-sabotages so thoroughly. You've had your moments, too, but those were fueled by a fear that you'd be the one getting left. A leave before you get left mentality. Or a leave before you get left again one.

So, you make your way to the door, set on leaving. You'll show up for the funeral tomorrow, but you can't stay here right now.

Chris catches you at the door. You feel cruel for trying to leave without saying goodbye now. You crouch down and give him a smile.

“I have to go,” you confess, “I'll see you tomorrow?”

“No,” he responds, and you frown.

“Can you stay and make me waffles tomorrow?”

You close your eyes and laugh. Wow, you regret making him waffles that one time. You ruffle his hair with one hand, as you think of the smoothest rejection possible.

“Y'know, maybe I could come over a little earlier and bring them with me,” you suggest.

He doesn't look too pleased. But he nods and makes his way into the living room to eat, as Eddie leaves the kitchen with two plates in hand.

“You can stay,” he whispers.

You look up at him with a shocked expression from your crouched position. You get up and shake your head. You can't, really.

“Hey, you did say anything,” he reminds you, “And Chris needs this right now. I can tell.”

You sigh, “I guess I did.”

Shannon's last words replay in your mind. Take care of Chris. Her eye contact with you couldn't have been a mistake. You can't shake the undeniable responsibility you feel for the kid now. You can tell it isn't just Christopher who needs you, but that is neither here nor there. Besides, you're more than willing and able to help. So you will.

Eddie nods in understanding, “Go make yourself a plate in the kitchen, and come join us.”

You wake up a little before sunrise. Sleeping was a battle in and of itself, but waking up to a bunch of clattering in the kitchen is less than pleasant. The couch was moderately comfortable. You fluff the cushions back up before making your way to the kitchen. You look at the offender who's woken you up through lidded eyes.

“Couldn't sleep?” you grumble at Eddie, as he opens up all of the cabinets to look inside for something.

“Hey. Yeah,” he says, still searching around.

You make your way over to him and grab his arms.

“Could you...just stop with the noise?” you whisper angrily.

You sigh, “You're going to wake Christopher up.”

He nods. You let him go. You cross your arms and lean on the counter, trying to wake yourself up for a moment. Coffee, you decide, is probably a good choice right now.

You walk towards the coffee maker and fill it up with enough water for two, clicking the button to get it to open. Then, you turn around and stare expectantly at Eddie, who's still standing in the same place you left him.

“So, what the hell is it you’re looking for exactly?”

“Melatonin pills. I can't do this funeral without at least a few hours of sleep,” he says, and you frown in confusion.

“My family's making it into town. My parents,” he explains.

You nod. Ah. The overbearing parents he told you all about that one night. You imagine that can't be easy. You wish you could find a way to pop their tires telepathically so they can't make it. The funeral's going to be difficult on its own, without their interference.

“You could always just tell them you moved houses. Y'know, misdirection,” you recommend, making jazz hands. He laughs. That was kind of the intention.

“Or just ditch the funeral. Kid won't remember it anyway,” you shrug.

He looks contemplative, “I think that'd make them a bit more...y'know.”

“Valid point.”

You turn around to pour two cups of coffee. You hand Eddie one and take the other for yourself.

“C'mon, you probably won't sleep anyway,” you tell him, as he second-guesses whether he should take that first sip or not.

He starts to drink from the mug, but looks a little saddened by the fact that he won't be getting any sleep any time soon. You nurse your mug and stare at the fridge.

“We should probably get started on those waffles. So they're ready when he wakes up,” you suggest.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie says, like he's completely forgotten why you're here in the first place.

You gather all of the ingredients into a pile on the counter. It doesn't take you long to realize that a key ingredient is missing. Milk.

“We're missing the milk. Why the hell do you guys not have any milk? There's a growing boy in the house,” you complain, half-joking.

Eddie snickers at you, “We could just use water.”

You turn around and narrow your eye at him, “Sorry, what? You think I'm going to half-ass the dead mom waffles?”

“Oh, right. Of course not,” he reasons, sarcastically.

You grab his mug out of his hand.

“Go,” you order, “and bring back some milk.”

He rolls his eyes but leaves the kitchen nonetheless. You hear the front door shut. You begin assembling the dry ingredients, and cracking eggs into a large bowl. By the time you're done, Eddie walks in with two milk cartons. You smile and thank him, proceeding to make the batter.

The sun begins to rise as you talk and pop the waffles into the waffle maker. You sip on reheated coffee as the scent of something freshly baked wafts through the house. You almost burn a couple of the waffles, too engrossed in each other's conversation.

You'd be lying if you said it wasn't incredibly weird to be acting so normal. No one can bring themself to address the elephant in the room, so you just sweep the last two months under the rug and let yourself enjoy the calm before the storm.

The aforementioned storm being the funeral, of course.

The finishing touches you set up onto the dining table consist of butter, the jar of strawberry jam, chocolate syrup, and a few plates. Chris walks into the living room as you set up the last plate. His smile is wide when he realizes you kept your promise and stayed to make the waffles.

“Good morning, Chris!” you say.

“Morning,” he mutters, still clearly sleepy.

You're glad he looks a lot better than yesterday. He makes his way to the table to take a seat, as Eddie walks in from his room. He'd been in the bathroom getting ready for the day ahead. He kisses Chris on the cheek before taking a seat.

You sit beside Christopher, asking which waffle he'd like.

“That one!” he points.

You put two waffles onto his plate, and hand him the chocolate sauce and sprinkles you know he likes. You watch him and Eddie eat, sipping on your second coffee of the day. Eddie's phone pings with a text. He sighs and his body language speaks volumes about how stressed he is.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Oh, nothing. My parents just said their ETA is in half an hour,” he answers.

You look down at your mug. You should really head out before they get here. The last thing any of you need is Eddie's parents asking about you sleeping over the night his wife died. You aren't sure you'd be able to explain if you tried.

You wait until Chris is almost done with his waffles, and you make your way into the kitchen to wash out your mug. When you come back you announce that you should get going. Chris takes a last bite and gets out of his seat to hug you good bye.

“Thank you,” he says. You're sure he's just talking about the waffles, but it makes you smile anyway.

“Of course. I'll see you later, okay?” you promise, and he nods.

You give Eddie a smile, and mouth ‘good luck,’ before making your way to the front door.

No one likes funerals, and you're certainly no exception. You happen to think that funerals should be abolished altogether. Memorials are acceptable. But the time directly after a person dies should be strictly reserved for the family to grieve. Not only have they just had someone die, now they have to host a bunch of people who couldn't possibly care about that someone more than they do. And the cherry on top of it all is: the body's there for everyone to gawk at. It's absurd.

Besides, it forces you to contemplate your own life in ways you wouldn't otherwise. You hate it.

After the burial, there's a small reception at the Diaz's. You sit with the rest of the 118, and entertain Chris with little games. Eddie's parents have mistaken you for Carla twice now, each. Your modest, black dress is itchy and uncomfortable. You feel so overstimulated and sad you might just die right here and turn this into your own funeral. You don't do that though; it'd be incredibly self-centered.

So, you offer everyone who comes to hug Christopher a curt smile, and ignore their judgmental looks. Yes, you're aware his mother's just died. No, you aren't trying to replace her. But how do you explain to anyone that her dying wish was this?

When it's all over, you hug Eddie goodbye, and kiss Christopher's cheek with a promise that you'll be back. His grandparents aren't nearly as happy as he is at that, though. Hen drives you home after, and you rant to her all about it on the way there. She's one of the only people who were there when Shannon said what she'd said, so she just nods and agrees the whole way home.

You're on a quick med call, the night after, when you receive a phone call from Eddie. He hasn't called you since the day you fought about Shannon. It makes you frown. Your immediate thought is that he might be in danger.

“Hey Hen?” you call out to her as she patches up a citizen, “I need a minute.”

She nods and waves you away.

You quickly press 'accept,' as the last ring sounds. There's immediately just a bunch of heavy breathing on the other line.

“Hey, Eddie? What's wrong?” you say abruptly.

“Oh, uh,” he sounds a little surprised that you picked up.

“Nothing. Nothing's wrong,” he claims, but his voice is a little shaky.

“Talk to me,” you urge.

He takes a shaky breath, “You're on a call?”

“No, no. Don't worry,” you reassure.

You can almost hear him run a worried hand through his hair.

“What is it? Is Chris okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. He's fine. I just...”

You wait for him to continue.

“It's just,” he sighs, “They didn't even come for the funeral. They just came to convince me and Christopher to-”

He barely even continue with his sentence without pausing take a deep breath. He stays silent for a moment, and you genuinely begin contemplating if you should clock out a little earlier to be with him.

“My parents. They came all the way here to try and get me and Chris to go back to El Paso,” he rambles.

It makes your heart sink. Even in the time you weren't talking to Eddie, he's been a stable pillar in your life. You've let yourself get too close, and now the thought of him and his son leaving makes your chest hurt.

“Is that what you want?”

“No, no. God no. We're trying to build a life here, away from my parents,” he explains, and you almost sob in relief.

“I want nothing more than for Christopher to grow up somewhere he can express himself freely. Texas is not that. We're not going back,” he asserts, but there's still a bit of doubt in his voice.

You check the clock on your phone, it's almost midnight. Hen begins to call for you to join her in the ambulance.

“Hey, I'm sorry. I have to go,” you confess, “But my shift ends in an hour. I'll come around with a six-pack and we can talk all about it, yeah?”

“You don't...” he trails off, “There's no need.”

“Well, that's just not true,” you call him out.

You begin walking towards the ambulance, “See ya, Eddie.”

“Yeah. See you,” he says with a smile, and you hang up.

The city's been a complete mess since the bombings have started. Everyone's panicking at any sight of an unmarked package or unclaimed school lunch anywhere. You get the mass hysteria, though. You find yourself texting Eddie every few hours to check up on him and Chris. He does the same. It's so crazy to think that with a single wrong movement, you could end up so seriously injured. Or worse.

You can tell Eddie's a lot more than just on edge. All of these incidents are triggering something from his past. He constantly looks like there are skeletons being dug up from his closet, skeletons he's had buried so deep for so long. You're sure it has something to do with his time in the army, but when you ask him he just brushes it off. So, you just do your best to remind him that you and Christopher are completely fine.

Unfortunately, for him, that also means that he's started putting you and him in different firetrucks. It's a grim thought, but you figure he does it, because if he ever ends up injured en route, you're one of the only people he trusts to do their best to help. On site, and if it goes really badly, with Christopher.

So, today, you ride with Buck and a few other firefighters in a different firetruck than the rest of the them. His text comes through a few minutes after you've been on the road.

Checking in.

You laugh at how oddly clingy it is. You begin typing a message back, but before you can respond your phone is thrown out of your hand.

A loud noise fills your ears. You can feel the truck tip back, falling onto its side. You can see red, and heat licks at your face before you feel your face slide across the hard concrete of the street. A burning pain shoots up your chest. You breathe heavily, and every breath comes with unimaginable pain.

You try to sit up, your hands supporting you by leaning on the road, but you fail miserably. You wince in pain instead, and fall back onto your front. You look back at the firetruck, which was a few feet away from landing directly on top of you. You immediately start looking for Buck, whose fate wasn't as lucky as yours.

He's lying directly underneath the truck, his entire leg crushed by the vehicle. You can hear him scream in pain. You almost sob at the sight, but you notice someone standing above him. You squint. It looks like just a kid.

A kid with a bomb strapped to his chest.

Your eyes grow wide, as he says something inaudible to Buck. In minutes, the site is surrounded with cop cars and news vans. You try to crawl your way to Buck, in hopes you can help him in any conceivable way.

You hear Eddie call out your name. He's behind the truck with Hen and Chimney. He tries to instinctually run to you, but Hen holds him back, whispering something into his ear.

“Give me your captain!” the idiot holding you hostage screams.

He keeps yelling nonsense about the captain, and when he tries tell off someone for moving, with you directly behind him, Chimney steps into view.

“I'm the captain,” he announces, “I'm the captain, so please just let me help them, okay? Please.”

The teenager clarifies that he wants Bobby instead. You sigh, and continue crawling towards Buck, glad for the distraction. Once you reach Buck, you place a gentle hand onto his back.

“Hey, you're going to be okay,” you whisper. “We’re going to be okay.”

You lean back against the truck, breathing heavily. You both watch Bobby negotiate for your lives. You listen to the kid call you 'collateral damage' and it almost makes you puke. You'd really prefer if you didn't die right now.

The kid, Freddie, walks closer to you and threatens to make you all 'go boom,' as he says. You stare up at the sky. If these are going to be your last moments, you don't want to spend them staring at this murdering halfwit.

Your eyes land on Eddie instead. You smile. He smiles back. You wouldn't exactly say you'd die happy now, but you'd die pretty satisfied.

You're starting to think Bobby's very bad at negotiating if it has you thinking about death. He disarms him physically after distracting him instead. That works wonders.

Eddie, Hen, and Chimney run in your direction immediately. Eddie pulls you in for a tight hug. Your tears begin almost immediately. He kisses the side of your brow and wipes your cheeks. He only pulls back when you bring his attention to your dying friend.

You move to crouch beside Buck, as you all check his vitals and try to figure out a way to get him out from under this truck. You all try to pull the truck up with sheer force. You quickly realize there aren't enough people.

Thankfully, the people of LA, while incredibly self-absorbed and uncharitable, can be helpful too. They help you pull the truck up and release Buck in no time. You move him into the ambulance and make your way to the hospital.

You rest your head against the walls of the ambulance, feeling a little lightheaded. Hen and Chimney are working on stabilizing Buck, when Eddie turns his focus to you. He tends to a cut on your forehead from the initial blast, as you focus on evening out your breathing.

“You alright? Any pain anywhere?” he asks.

You shake your head, as he checks your vitals anyway. When he checks your pulse, he frowns deeply. He grabs the blood pressure monitor from behind him.

“Your heart rate's really high,” he notes, putting the cuff onto your arm.

“You're hypotensive too.”

You roll your eyes at him.

“I'm probably just coming down from the adrenaline rush. I was almost killed, y'know,” you say, clutching your chest.

A wave of pain hits you like a freight train. You take gasping breaths trying to calm your body down, but breathing's difficult and your chest feels heavy.

Your head's getting lighter by the second. You can feel your vision getting blurrier, too, until Eddie's just a blob of blue in your sight. You whimper at the heaviness in your chest. You can barely hear the questions Eddie's yelling at you, as you fall unconscious.

You wake up to a screech and a hug so tight it makes you see colors dance in your vision, from the pain. You're just about to cuss whoever it is out, when you realize it's little Christopher, who's just excited to see you wake up. So you grit your teeth, and smile through the pain.

You ruffle his hair, as Eddie makes his way into your line of sight. He looks like he'd been sleeping here, in this hospital room. You frown at his tired appearance. Carla comes by and takes Christopher away to bring a nurse over, and to give you and Eddie some privacy.

“Hey,” you croak out.

“Hi,” he greets, sounding he's about to cry.

You realize you can't remember a single thing after falling unconscious, “What happened?”

“You, uh,” he sounds a little choked up, “You had some internal bleeding. Hemothorax, probably from the fall.”

He gulps, “They had to perform a thoracotomy to remove the blood. Your lung was collapsed. You couldn't breathe. I just...”

He trails off. His eyes have a faraway glance in them. It looks like he's hanging on by a thread, so close to breaking down. You can tell he's reliving those moments in the ambulance, and whatever happened after. You pull his hand into yours. You let him feel your pulse with his fingers to ground him.

“I'm okay, alright? You didn't lose me. You saved me,” you say, with absolute certainty.

“No,” he sobs out, “I couldn't. I couldn't do anything. Hen had to help you. I was...stuck.”

“Oh,” you blink, “That doesn't matter, y'know. There's barely anything you could've done when I was in an ambulance, already on the way to the hospital.”

“No, no,” he argues, “I couldn't even hold your hand. You could've...You could've died. And I couldn't even look at you.”

You bring his hand up to your lips. It's a gesture that shocks him. He looks into your eyes with an intensity that almost makes you want to cry with him.

“It's okay. I forgive you. You did all you could. You did your best, Eddie,” you reassure him.

He nods once. Then, the nurses walk in and they're checking your vitals, looking at your stitches, and making sure you're comfortable. Eddie keeps his eyes on you the entire time. He searches for any way to help, but when the opportunity never comes up, he excuses himself.

"I'm gonna go call Hen. She wanted to know when you woke up."

A few days later, it's almost time for you to be discharged. Hen had taken the key to your apartment to bring you back some clothes and other essentials. You had slowly gotten up from your bed to throw the outfit she'd brought you on, in the few moments you had alone.

You only managed to slip your jeans on, though, before someone burst through your room door. You turn around immediately, covering yourself with your shirt. Your first instinct is to shout, so you do.

“Close the damn door, Diaz,” you yell.

For some reason, Eddie takes that as an invitation to close the door behind him, instead of getting out. You roll your eyes. Well, he's definitely seen it all before, so there's no reason to be shy. You move your shirt away to throw it on, which leaves you in just your bra.

He stands frozen in the corner. His eyes are trained on the bandages covering your surgical site. He must notice something, because he yells out before you can fully get your shirt on.

“Wait!” he shouts.

You look back at him, frowning. He makes his way across the room to you, staring at your torso. You wait expectantly for him to say anything. He doesn't. Just continues staring.

“Y'know if you wanted me to stay naked, you could've just asked,” you joke.

His face flushes, “No. That's not it, obviously. You bled through the surgical dressing, it's been soaked. When'd they last change it? How didn't you notice?”

You don't look down, now that he mentions blood.

“Uh, this morning probably? And I don't look,” you say.

He raises an eyebrow.

“I can't look,” you clarify, “I'm a bit of a hypochondriac. If I look, I'll freak out.”

He nods in understanding. He starts to gather a few things from around the room. He starts washing his hands with an antiseptic soap.

“So how were you planning on changing those every day at home, exactly?” he questions.

“Oh, I wasn't. I was planning on calling Hen to do it for me,” you explain.

He laughs, and grabs a pair of gloves out of the glovebox. You frown in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm going to change your bandages. Do you mind?”

“Well, yes. I like to think, as a respectable young woman, that my first choice, in a hospital full of doctors and nurses, for this isn't my ex.”

He nods, “Yeah, well, I'm all you have. They're pretty backed up. Train wreck. It could take hours for someone to come in and help you. And you seem pretty eager to get out of here.”

You are. You hate hospitals. You've hated them a lot more since you had a full-blown panic attack in one. And he's a trained professional. You're sure he's done this kind of thing an endless amount of times.

“Fine. Whatever. Go ahead,” you succumb to your fate

Eddie helps you sit up on the edge of the hospital bed. He makes his way downward, so he's at eye level with your wound. He's so close, you can feel his breath on your skin. It makes every hair on your body stand.

He starts to pull off the soaked dressings slowly. And it hurts like a bitch, even with all of the pain-killers they have you on. You wince in pain, and grab the back of his neck instinctively.

You're just about to apologize when he says, “It's okay. Just hold on. I'll be more careful.”

He dabs the wound to make sure it's dry. He grabs the new bandages and rips them open. He carefully positions them where they're supposed to be, applying gentle pressure to get the adhesive to stick to your dry skin. You keep your hand on the nape of his neck the entire time, gripping tighter when it gets more painful.

When he's done, he comes back up. But your hand doesn't leave him. He makes no move to step away. You both just stare at each other for a long moment. Your eyes drift from his eyes to his lips a few times.

Until a nurse steps into the room with wide eyes.

“Uh, I'll just come back,” she mutters, shutting the door as she leaves.

You turn around to look at him with narrowed eyes. You grab your shirt from your lap and whip him with it.

“You said they were backed up!” you accuse.

He just laughs and walks away, “They were!”

You finally throw your shirt on. You know you should feel a little taken advantage of, but you can't help but feel thrilled. Having him touch you again was a much needed comfort.

He makes his way towards the door, and then stops abruptly, like he's remembered why he came here in the first place, “Also, I think you should come stay with me and Chris for a few days. You need someone to help you around the house.”

“And I'm more than willing to do that every day.”

You shriek and laugh nervously at him. You wish you could say no. Well, that's a lie. It all just makes logical sense, you suppose.

You need someone to look after you, and he doesn't seem to mind. You'd also be doing him a favor by looking after Christopher while he's at work. Mutual transaction.

Also, the thought of him changing your bandages every day sends an undeniable thrill down your spine. You nod in agreement as he all but skips his way out of the hospital room.

Well, seems like Christopher isn't the only person who's going to enjoy this new roommate arrangement.

“Hello, Probie,” you tease, resting against the locker beside Eddie's.

“Not anymore,” Eddie responds firmly.

“No, no,” you say, shaking your head.

You wave your phone in front of his face, “I still have an hour to call you that. I’m wearing it out.”

He sighs, looking frustrated. He's been standing in front of the mirror in the station dressing room for 17 minutes trying to get his tie right. You counted.

You step closer in his direction. You grab the tie from him roughly. He almost tells you off, but gets distracted by your uniform, which is tighter today than your everyday one. He begins to look you up as down, as you begin to tie his tie neatly.

“How's your wound?” he asks.

“It's fine, dad. You don't have to keep asking me every ten minutes,” you snark, still working on the tie.

It usually doesn't take you three minutes to do this, but you'd like to prolong it as much as possible. You could guess he's definitely done the same once or twice while changing your dressings. That sadly ended a two days after you'd gotten discharged, and you wouldn't admit it even with a gun to your head, but you miss his touch.

Once it's tied, you tap his chest twice to get him to look. He finally takes his eyes off of you to look down. He looks pleased with it. He looks into the mirror one last time, and then slams his locker closed.

You can tell he's anxious, because his parents are in town. He gets this way whenever they come by. It's completely valid, but today is his day, no one else's. So you'll try to distract him in any way possible.

“You look nervous. Are you nervous, Probie?” you joke, sitting on the bench in the middle of the room. He joins you.

“I am not,” he denies, tying his boot.

“And stop calling me that,” he insists, but his eyes say he's entertained by this whole interaction.

You shake your head hard, “No. I actually can't believe I didn't do it more often, when I had the chance. Never mind, though, I still have 55 minutes.”

You laugh and move out of the way when he tries to grab you, shaking your head furiously. You walk out of the dressing room, cackling like a maniac. You pull your phone out and shoot him a message.

Probie.

He responds almost immediately. You can hear him chuckle from the other room.

Stop

You don't. In fact, his annoyance only makes you more insistent. You keep calling him that until the very moment he gets awarded the title of firefighter. Literally.

As you and Chris sit at a table, with Carla and Eddie's abuela, you convince him to cheer Eddie on when he appears to receive his new title. You want Chris to feel comfortable enough to cheer his dad on, but you also want to use the opportunity for evil.

You can't help but scream, “Yeah, Probie Diaz!” at him, as he walks over. He shoots you a feigned dirty look, but it dissipates into a smile as he sees Chris hoot for him, with you encouraging it. You both watch Bobby declare him a firefighter, pride filling your hearts.

When the ceremony's over, you take pictures and pointedly avoid Eddie's parents. You can already tell they know you're staying with him and Christopher. And they aren't happy about it in the least.

You're sure in another life, where you'd just meet them on an emergency and had absolutely no personal ties to them, you wouldn't hate Helena and Ramón Díaz.

In this life, though, you do. Anyone who's aware of the harm they cause Eddie, and by extension Christopher, would too.

After hours of carefully tip-toeing around Eddie's parents, Christopher decides that he’s completely worn out and passes out on the couch at the station. Eddie carries him, when you all make your way to the truck.

You both sigh loudly once you’re in the car alone, and as far away as possible from Chris' grandparents. You laugh quietly at your mutual distress, before making your way home in comforting silence.

Even though being around Eddie's parents has put a bitter taste in your mouth, you wouldn't trade this for the world. Christopher quietly snoring in the back seat, as Eddie drives you all back to their house. A house you've never felt anything less than loved and appreciated in.

You quickly realize on the way back that all of the glares and subtle side-eyes were completely worth it. You hope you don't have to see Helena and Ramón again any time soon.

A/N: caring more about your ex almost dying than your wife being dead is crazy work. i love eddie.

[sirfrogsworth]

The Anger Returned

This is probably the most hurtful and infuriating paragraph I've ever read...

"As for taking care of dad. We offered many times to find a place for you and dad to live closer to us so that we could take dad to his appointments and have some skilled care available. He didn't want to leave you at the house alone, so my wife searched high and low for a place that could take both of you. Dad was open to moving closer to us and had said he would have done so on several occasions but you were unwilling to give up the house and ultimately dad said no based on your opposition to moving and that you both would remain at the house. You make it sound like you were taking on this burden to relieve the pressure off me, but in reality this was the only way to retain the house for you after dad's passing. Because if you were unable to care for Dad the current situation would be very different."

That is one of the last things my brother said to me way back in August of 2023.

I don't understand how two people can be so oblivious to what is involved in taking care of a dying person.

Taking him to his appointments was probably the easiest part. And that is what they were willing to personally contribute.

And "skilled care"? What does that mean? A nurse? House cleaning?

Within my dad's budget, we could have maybe afforded someone to come a few times per week. That would have been almost no help to me at all. Plus, they could have sent "skilled care" to this house. Why was that dependent on moving closer?

It feels like they think appointments and having someone come over for a few hours here and there is all it took to care for my father.

But accusing me of wanting to stay put so I could "retain the house."

I still don't know how to process that anger.

It repeats in my head in a loop. Sometimes I will forget about it for a few weeks. Maybe a month. And then tonight it just started looping in my head again.

First, my dad lied. He kinda screwed me. He probably didn't know he was screwing me. But he did not want to leave this house. He was surrounded by my mom's things. He thought her spirit was still here. He talked to her at night when he was trying to fall asleep. I don't think he knew I could hear him.

Oh, and he threatened to kill himself if we tried to move him out of this house. So there was that, too.

But he lied and blamed it on me so my brother would stop pressuring him to move. I get it. But it gave my brother an excuse to blame me. A way to justify away his guilt. Sure, he was only 45 minutes away. But if he were only 5 minutes away, that would have somehow solved everything.

My dad couldn't go to a nursing home because he was neglected so badly in rehab (which is a nursing home) that he had to call the police on them. He said "I'll die before I go back to one of those places."

And the fact they were even considering that just shows you how out of touch they were with the situation.

And, yes, I didn't want to move. That is true. But it had nothing to do with "retaining the house." I thought the stressful process of moving would kill my dad. And I asked the doctor what moving could do to my dad's health and he said, without hesitation, "Oh yeah, that would have killed him."

Beyond that, they had no plan. They didn't say how we were going to get our belongings out of the house. How were we supposed to handle the realtor or open houses? It took me months to configure this place to my dad's needs. Were they going to help me do that in a tiny apartment? Were they going to find my dad new doctors and a new pharmacy?

I built an entire infrastructure around this house to take care of my dad. They talk about all this work they did googling apartments but they did no research or planning on how to actually move us. Was that up to me? Was I supposed to figure all that out while giving him 24/7 care?

I was watching a new show called The Pitt and it had a woman taking care of her elderly mom. And she was so overwhelmed she abandoned her at the ER. And I started crying because that is so real. Taking care of a dying person is nonstop stress.

I had to watch my dad go to the bathroom every single time to make sure he didn't fall. Which meant I never slept through the night.

Not once.

I slept on a mattress on the floor next to the hallway so every time he got up, I would wake up. And if he fell, I would pick him up. In the final few months he could not tuck himself back into bed. So 4 times per night I had to get up, watch him pee, arrange his pillows so they supported his back, pull up the covers, and then tuck them under the pillows so they wouldn't move. He was so uncomfortable all the time and that was the only way he could fall asleep.

And those were the *easy* days.

The hard days involved cleaning up pee and poop. Sometimes blood. Sometimes mystery fluids. Before I got the special lifting device, if he fell, I had to literally drag him to his electronic reclining chair so we could use the footrest to help get him up again. I once had to drag him through two rooms and hurt my back for a week. I probably should have called EMS, but I didn't know my back would go out until it was too late.

And then there were the delirium days where he talked and didn't make any sense. How do you take care of someone you can't communicate with? He had a dead toe that needed lotion applied. Nearly made me puke every time. And then there was the time the urologist had to open up his urethra. With a metal spike. My dad screamed so loud I nearly had a panic attack. Every person in that office heard him scream.

But I think his depression was probably the hardest to deal with. He had a son that never spoke to him. Never visited. And a granddaughter he only met a few times. He cried himself to sleep so many nights. Sometimes it was so bad I had to lie with him in bed and just rub his back until he fell asleep. He was so lonely without my mom. And I tried to be good company, but I was often too tired to give him any attention beyond his care.

When things were hardest he would get suicidal. And considering his quality of life, I didn't blame him. Sometimes I regret keeping him alive as long as I did. He was ready to go as soon as he lost his wife. But we both held out hope my brother would wake the fuck up and realize there was not much time to make amends. To say goodbye. To install core memories of my dad in his daughter's mind. So she'd at least have one grandparent to remember.

It never happened and I feel guilty for letting him live so long in misery when deep down I knew that hope was foolish.

That's the kind of shit no one knows or thinks about when it comes to caregiving. The easy days are hard and the hard days are impossible and you feel awful for feeling overwhelmed because you aren't the one miserable and dying. Dialysis is nearly barbaric.

For over a year, I barely slept at night. And the only time I could get uninterrupted sleep was when he was at dialysis. So the only time I ever had to myself, I had to use sleeping so I wouldn't burn out.

Hiring a "skilled worker" does nothing to help me with that. And no nursing home is going to give him that kind of care.

Only love can give someone that kind of care.

My brother doesn't think I saved him from any burden by taking care of my dad. I just wish I could figure out a way to show him just how incorrect that is.

If I refused to take care of my dad and left it all in my brother's hands, he would have put him in a nursing home and burned through all of my dad's money in a few months. Then he'd either have to pay for his care or take him in.

Was he going to watch my dad pee 4 times a night and tuck him in?

Those who have never taken care of someone like this... have you ever thought deeply about what is involved? Does your common sense tell you it is a little more than driving to appointments and hiring a "skilled worker"?

Why does my brother (and my uncles) think so little of my efforts?

I honestly thought it was common knowledge that taking care of a dying person was super duper hard.

It was the hardest thing I will ever do. And the thing I am most proud of accomplishing. And for some reason I still want my brother to say thank you. I don't know how to find closure without that gratitude. And I'm pretty sure it will never happen.

[jellieland]

"You know," says Jimmy smugly, "I think second is the best spot to die in, actually."

"Really," says Mumbo, exasperated.

"Yes, I don't know what you're so happy about," says Lizzie. "You barely lasted ten minutes more than me."

"Doesn't matter. Not out first, baby!" He crows, triumphant, to the neverending void.

"And you killed me last session!"

"...Yes, I, uh, I'm sorry about that one. Sort of. Mostly," he says, momentarily cowed.

"I can't believe you people," says Lizzie. "They didn't have a funeral for me. I died first, and you got one, and they didn't even have a funeral for me!" She sounds indignant, but a look of genuine hurt crosses her face for a moment.

"I'm going to be honest, Lizzie," says Mumbo awkwardly. "I think they had bigger things to worry about. I- I think Joel was quite sad about it, though. If that helps?"

"I suppose it's better than nothing." She crosses her arms.

"But- wait, hang on. Jimmy?" says Mumbo abruptly. "Did you say you wanted to go out second?"

"No!" Jimmy protests. "I just think if you have to go out, then second is sort of ideal, really, if you think about it!"

"No!" says Mumbo, indignant. "No, surely third is better, actually! And to extend that logic, fourth would be better as well, and fifth, and- well, you get the idea. Anyway, my point is that I did better than both of you!"

"Hey, don't bring me into this!" says Lizzie.

"Anyway, you're wrong," says Jimmy, back to being smug again.

There is a short silence.

"You, uh. You gonna elaborate on that one, buddy?" asks Mumbo.

"Well," says Jimmy. "Obviously going out first is terrible. Would not recommend. I don't know why anyone would do it, honestly, I know I would never-"

"You're going on my list," says Lizzie, cheerfully.

"Wait wait wait, no, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I really am!"

"Hmm." Lizzie narrows her eyes. "Acceptable. For now."

A few moments pass.

"You may continue," she says.

"Right," says Jimmy. "What was I saying?"

"You were being wrong about how the ranking in this game works," offers Mumbo.

"No I wasn't!" says Jimmy. "Just, let me explain. Now, you obviously don't want to go out first, sorry Lizzie, but it's true."

"I will concede that point," says Lizzie. "It wasn't great."

"But—have you seen how they get?"

"How they... get?" Mumbo frowns. "What do you mean?"

"The people who don't die."

"I- now, I don't know if you remember this," says Mumbo, "But third is a new record for me, so I really don't know how you expect me to know that."

"Anyway," interjects Lizzie, "Mumbo and I have only done this once before. I mean, I guess people started losing it a bit once you two died, but it wasn't that much different to how it already had been. Although I wasn't around for that long at that point."

"Yes, but, it-" Jimmy frowns. "I haven't seen much of it either. But there's something- I don't know how to explain what I mean. Maybe you haven't noticed, but there's stuff with Grian, Scott, Pearl."

He stops, sighs. Looks at the ground.

"Martyn's going to be alone, now," he says.

"Well," says Lizzie, a little acerbic. "You don't have to have people die for that to happen, you know."

Jimmy gives her a look that is a combination of sheepishness and genuine regret. "Ah. Yeah. I guess not."

"So you're right," says Lizzie. "I don't know what you mean."

"...I did feel bad," says Jimmy, quietly.

"You... did?" asks Lizzie. "What about?"

Jimmy looks at her, then off to the side. "...When I killed you."

"Oh."

"I really didn't mean to," he says. "I felt bad. It wasn't satisfying. It was just... a person I cared about. Dead. Because of me. Because I acted without thinking, because I wasn't paying attention."

"...Oh." says Lizzie, softly.

"And that was when I knew you would come back," says Jimmy.

Lizzie and Mumbo exchange glances, unsure.

"I'm good with second," says Jimmy. "I think it's the closest you can get to winning, actually."

They stand there, silent, for some time.

"Well," says Mumbo eventually. "I still feel like third is a bit better, though."

"Mumbo!" cries Jimmy.

"Mumbo, come on, we were just having a moment!" says Lizzie.

"Yes well, look, I really need this, guys," says Mumbo, shifting his weight from side to side. "I don't know if you know this, but I've had a really bad day. It was just terrible!"

"I think we've all had pretty bad days, Mumbo!" says Lizzie, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we all died!"

"Yes, I- I had picked up on that, actually."

"I don't know," says Jimmy. "My day was great!"

They keep talking, and bickering, and the emptiness stretches off into the distance.

It's nice, not to have to be there alone.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY ALISTAIR THEIRIN - PARTY BANTER *  updated version - assorted banter from dragon age: origins

they say you can get anything here. i once got pick-pocketed.

i don't know if i should take you seriously... but you scare me sometimes.

i locked myself in a cage once when i was a child. for an entire day. ahh... good times.

why do they call it a brothel? there's no broth. or is there?

couldn't you crawl into a bush somewhere and die? that would be great, thanks.

leave me alone.

i know where babies come from!

what would you do if someone told you that they loved you?

food shouldn't be frilly and pretentious like that.

we take our ingredients, throw them into the largest pot we can find, and cook them for as long as possible until everything is a uniform grey color. as soon as it looks completely bland and unappetizing, that's when i know it's done.

we're not going to be mobbed, right? that's not something they do here? mob people?

do you get the feeling things are just getting worse as we go up?

now that's just unnecessary.

i don't think we're alone. i really don't think we're alone.

is it just me, or did i do really badly back there?

excuse me while i begin projectile vomiting.

maybe she was ugly. maybe she had buck teeth. how would we know?

what is that smell? fish? and something else. oh... more fish.

uh-oh. i'm terrible at puzzles.

let's try not to get lost here. places like this can get you turned around.

i think there's something ahead. something big.

i don't even want to imagine where that leads.

you could be an utter moron, for all we know.

it used to get so quiet that i would start screaming until someone came running. i would tell them that i was just checking. you never know, right?

there's a certain allure to danger, isn't there?

i will never get over how quietly you are able to move.

i heard you often seduce your targets.

don't you wish you could have stayed there? to help more people, i mean?

i've never been very good at that. the steeling myself part. i find it better sometimes to just be a little weak. i'm all right with that, really.

i just wanted some advice.

what should i do if... if i think a woman is special...

i am not lost.

do i have a choice?

you find that curious, do you?

that's directed at me, i take it?

have you really been thinking about that all this time?

so let's talk about your mother for a moment.

why do you always go on about how stupid i am? i'm not stupid, am i?

it hurts my manly feelings, you know. all one of them.

you're not even listening to me.

you're joking, right? a five year old could answer that question.

so what's the deal with you and him, anyway? dare i ask?

that... is a ridiculous question.

i figure you'd be the sort who knows all about deception.

it's moments like this when i truly appreciate the difference between you and me.

you're... you're drunk, aren't you?

how do you manage to be constantly drunk? are we even carrying that much alcohol with us?

i guess a romance between you and i is completely out of the question.

you know a lot of big words.

you wouldn't understand.

don't you ever talk? you know, make polite conversation just to put people at ease?

i spy with my little eye... something that begins with... "G"

are you talking to me?

are we under attack?

i don't have to prove anything to you.

we're not exactly traveling in the lap of luxury here.

can you mend it? when we get back to camp?

i might catch a cold.

that's... one way of looking at it.

i have a hard time believing that.

it's not an outlandish question.

you know, of all the mages i've met you have to be the first one i can honestly say i've really liked.

why are you smiling like that?

i wasn't looking at... you know her... hind-quarters... i gazed. glanced... in that direction, maybe, but i wasn't staring... or really seeing anything even.

i hate you. you're a bad person.

i'm not an idiot. well, not most of the time.

you didn't answer my question.

if you aren't telling me, there must be a reason.

do you mind if i ask you a personal question?

have you... had many women in your time?

how do you... woo them? is there a technique?

i like my hair the way it is, thank you.

we aren't talking about this, are we? did i hit my head?

is that a smirk? are you smirking at me?

well aren't you just chock full of useless trivia today.

i suppose you don't care.

so when this is over, what do you intend to do with yourself?

[panthressa]

Stiles and his best friend's sister, as per the request of @trashyangelic! Thank you, my dear 💜. Also, I did not reread this or edit it at all so... Have fun with any and all mistakes because I pulled this straight out of my ass.

So. Imagine that it's Mr. Stilinski's day off and he's home all day, but thankfully, Scott is working at the shelter and Ms. McCall is working at the hospital. This is prime time for the two horny rascals.

Speaking of horny, they are the most desperate teenagers ever, especially because they have to act normal in front of Scott and everyone else. So, when they're finally alone, their clothes come off almost immediately.

They share needy kisses, and Stiles leads because he has absolutely no self-control whatsoever. Forget about breathing, he will die a happy man against her addictive body. He practically throws her onto her bed and jumps on top of her, needing to touch, kiss, and lick every inch of her. The whimper and moans coming from her only motivate him more.

He mumbles words of praise to her as he moves down her body, treating her like the deity she is.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous. Look at you."

"I want you so bad. I always want you. You make standing next to you so hard... And me. You make me so hard too."

"You're fucking perfect, you know that? The world doesn't deserve you. I should just keep you all to myself. You want that? You want me to keep you locked up in my room forever? No one will ever know... I'll hide you so well. No one will think to look in the Sheriff's own house."

He eats her out like a starving man and fucks her like it's his last day. They both lose their ability to think properly thanks to the utter bliss they're diving into as Stiles' dick plunges over and over again. They moan uncontrollably because, well, that's just the effect they have on each other.

There's something about breaking the "rules" Scott thinks he set and taking an exciting risk that intensifies the pleasure they're feeling. Neither of them can control their release, but that doesn't matter since they go again after just a couple of minutes. Sure, they might be a little sensitive, but that doesn't stop them. Why would it?

By the fourth round (I know, teenagers smh), the pair are shaking and Stiles' girl is practically screaming his name.

They inevitably reach their limit, collapsing onto her sheets and chasing lungfuls of air. Apparently, calming down from a workout like that takes effort. She's secretly looking forward to his magical aftercare, but unfortunately, that doesn't happen.

Fucking Scott gets off work early and comes home way before they were expecting him to, making their eyes widen in panic. Stiles nearly face-plants as he stumbles down from her bed to grab his and her clothes that are still in the hallway.

Somehow they manage to quietly get dressed before Scott gets upstairs. When he enters his sister's room, he finds the two of them "studying" (the cum is definitely hiding underneath her comforter). He's about to ask Stiles when he got here, but he catches a certain scent and his eyebrows furrow.

"Stiles, can I talk to you in the hall for a second?"

His heart begins to race, which Scott picks up on too, but he nods and awkwardly walks out into the hall with his buddy. "What's up?"

"Why does it smell like... you know... in my sister's room!?" he whispers harshly.

"Wha- I don't know! Maybe she, uh, you know, t-touched... herself. Like, before I came here. Maybe?"

Scott is utterly disgusted by Stiles' cover-up. "Ugh! Gross! Don't say that about my sister, you perv!"

"Sorry! Sorry! I'm just saying..."

"You know what? Just forget I said anything. Ugh... You got issues, man."

"Yeah, yeah, I know..." he yields. Stiles nibbles on his lower lip as he watches Scott walk away to his own room before pumping his fist into the air in success, barely saving his own ass.

So. Secretly dating and fucking your best friend's sister is a lot harder and stressful than people think it is...