#like if she can't love herself as she deserves then let me love you until you do

[eye-scream-girls]

I saw your post about a "her", and I just wanted to come here and say, that you are not alone in this. I think feeling so deeply is such a gift, and whoever you are talking about is very lucky you're alive, I am sending you all the love.

This is such a genuinely sweet ask, thank you 💜

[nightingale-prompts]

The Nightingale Family-DC x DP prompt

(Shameless Addams family inspired prompt)

News travels fast in Gotham, especially in affluent circles. A new family has arrived in the city, old money at that. They had taken up residents in the old mansion overlooking the Historic Gotham Graveyard.

The Nightingales had a way of letting their presence be known. They were rarely seen in public. The eldest Jasmine Nightingale however had made waves working at the Gotham Asylum as a psychologist. She was often escorted by her younger brother Dan Nightingale. The public really started talking when Jazz was seen talking with Harley Quinn.

There were two children that lived in the Nightingale manor. They were elusive to say the least as the family didn't attend the parties of Gotham.

It wasn't until Damian Wayne got an invite from his classmate Danielle to visit their manor that someone saw the lives of Nightingales. This invite had been received after Damian carefully befriended the youngest Nightingale to investigate their connections.

That's how the Waynes ended up at a dinner party.

The manor was bleak to say the least and that's saying something in Gotham. The buildingbwas made from black stones and gargoyles perched on the roof. The garden was wilted and full of thrones that crept up the walls.

Bruce felt a sense of Deja vu as he approached the door and rang the bell. Tower bells rang out as the face of Jasmine Nightingale appeared. She was dressed in black dress pants and blazer. Her lips were painted to match. Her red hair had a striking white streak through it which had become a fashion trend since the family's arrival to girls wanting to seem mysterious.

"Good Evening. It is so nice to meet the infamous Waynes." She shook Bruce's hand. Behind her, the sounds of clanking metal was heard. "That is just my younger siblings playing. You don't you boys join while I talk to your father.

Despite only being a fresh-faced 20 year old Jazz carried herself like a confident adult. A certified genius in psychology who graduated early she also handled the inmates at the Asylum well enough that escapes are at an all time low.

"She's got it all" was what Harley said.

Bruce's admiration of the young lady was only matched by his suspicion. The house the Nightingales lived y had once belonged to the Al Ghouls. There was no telling yet if there was a connection.

He took a seat in the living room with Jazz tea already prepared. She poured two cups of black tea. Not black as in the type of tea but the color of the drink. Bruce cautiously sniffed the black liquid, it smelled earthy and acidic. Poison.

"Do you like it? I made it myself. I added the belladonna myself. It has a sweet taste so you don't need sugar. The kids have sweet tooths but we avoid added sugars. They love nightshade." She smiled drinking.

Bruce put the cup down. So they drink poison at a young age. They must be part of The League of Assassins. But why are they here?

"If you don't mind me asking. Why did you move to Gotham? Your parents-" Jazz put a hand up as she finished her cup.

"Mr. Wayne I'm sure you are no stranger to parents leaving before their time nor the concept that not all parents deserve children. Now I can't confirm or deny if that is the case for use but you can understand that it's a private matter." Jazz said sternly.

That wasn't an answer.

Upstairs Danny and Danielle played with Elle's new toys. Swords from Dan's trip to Portugal. He even sharpened them. They were currently tearing through the mansion.

Tim and Damian caught them while Danny had successfully pinned Elle to the ground.

"Dami! Help!" Elle yelled catching Danny off guard as Damian tackled Danny to the ground.

"Alright, alright. You can go next." Danny rolling Damian off him and passing him the sword. "Im taking a break."

Danny loved playing with his little sister but baby games are tiring.

"They let you play with swords," Tim exclaimed. This wasn't something he expected, sure it was normal for Damian but Damian is weird and was raised by assassins. Damian didn't do it for fun, it was training.

Damian and Danielle ran off while fencing.

"You must be one of the Waynes. Elle has been excited to have your brother over." Danny said politely if not a bit dismissive.

"Eh, yeah. Your sister said we should join you." Tim said a bit awkward. " You have another brother right?"

"Oh, yeah. He travels alot but he's relaxing right now. He's probably swimming." Danny shrugged.

Tim had heard of Danny. They went to the same school but Danny was part of a program that allowed him to come to school when he felt like it. The program is for young engineers who want to work for Wayne Industries. He mostly worked on small experimental projects. So far Danny's superconductor tech was revolutionary but impossible to replicate. Danny somehow managed to make a more effective coolant than anything they had created in the lab.

"You have a pool?" Tim knew that the mansion didn't have a pool.

"Of water? No." Danny shrugged but gave no further answer.

"I see, so what do you do?" Tim tried to sound normal like he was talking to his friends and not someone he was trying to probe.

"Anything, everything. I was going to recalibrate my telescope but I have a laser to test." Danny walked off expecting Tim to follow.

Testing was just cut a bunch of things in half. Tim got some great info on making an explosive ice canister and foam bombs. Tim made sure to get his number to hire him to make some gear for him.

The Nightingale kids were absolutely lawless. They destroyed everything in their path.

Elle had dragged Damian to her room to show off her toys. She used to travel with Dan until she started school. She picked up a bunch of items. Cult artifacts, shrunken heads, voodoo dolls, cursed puppets, knives, swords, and the homemade taxidermy Elle made from roadkill. She also had a pet dodo bird named Ernesto who had a bed next to her bed. Ernesto took a liking to Damian and sat on his head. The way he shows his affection

Soon enough Dan came upstairs to check on Elle and Danny.

"You kids, need to get ready for dinner. Sharpen your nails and teeth." He said before going back to the kitchen.

"What does that mean?" Damian asked.

"You don't sharpen your nails. Well good luck at dinner." Elle said bemused.

Dinner was...horrifying. Watching the family chat happily as they ripped apart the moving food as it came to life. Damian was actually excited as he skewered the cheese and broccoli casserole that screamed at him.

"Father, why can't we do this at our home?" He asked.

[puptrefied]

Hi! Do you take requests?

If so, I think a fic bases on this excerpt:

"she can't have her parents walking in again. poor cassandra…finding your daughter with her whole face buried in between a girl's thighs is not the most ideal situation"

of your cailtyn story would be phenomenal 🙏

If you don't, feel free to ignore this! :)

　let's start by saying caitlyn knows how to eat pussy and loves doing it :3 babe could have it for breakfast, lunch, dinner and even dessert. she wouldn't call herself an expert per se, but she's quite proud of her talent.

sure, receiving it feels good—but what's better than knowing you're making a girl cum with just your mouth? to cait, absolutely nothing. the moans, the hair-pulling, the thighs clenching against her head ♡ ugh chef's kiss.

( she came untouched a few times from it but you did not hear it from me ok? )

it's usually one the first things she does when you successfully sneak into her room. like a reward for getting through massive place she calls home without anyone noticing.

your back against the bed and legs immediately spread to expose the sight she absolutely adores. god, she could just stare at it forever and it'd still have the same effect in between her own legs. new panties are needed.

she doesn't dive in face-first like an animal the second your clothes are off, even if she does feel like a starved woman. she starts by slowly kissing your thighs and caressing any bit of skin she can, hand sneaking up your abdomen and ribs to massage your breasts a little—don't mind it.

“should I continue?” cocky because she already knows the answer is a breathy ‘yes, please’.

oh and she gets way more cocky once she finally starts working on you, soft and slow stripes and twirls with her tongue. nothing fancy yet; she wants to tease a little more.

the second your hips start bucking into her mouth though? girl, grab onto something because she takes the signs IMMEDIATELY.

legs propped up on her shoulder while her hands hold your hips down to keep control of them. the slurping sounds are almost pornographic with how sloppy she's being. no whine coming from you is gonna make her stop any time soon. she's enjoying it waaaay to much already.

if she's feeling nice she will add a finger or two while sucking ๋࣭⭑ curling them just right inside you, not in-and-out like crazy. her tongue’s already lapping at you pretty fast so no need to overwhelm you…yet.

she wishes you would look down at her for a sec to see that pretty expression better, but she also understands it's her own fault that your head is thrown back against the bed, clenching around her fingers while pulling at her hair. what a curse to be so good at pleasing girls.

she knew speeding up her movements wasn't a smart thing to do so late at night as soon as the loud whine that escaped your lips reached her ears. obviously louder than the previous ones.

the heavy thump on the door when it opened proved her right.

“caitlyn.”

of course it had to be her mother out of all people.

cassandra's eyebrows furrowed as she looked away with a small huff, trying to erase the sight from her mind by blinking and observing every detail on the window. she thought caitlyn was trying to sneak out and get involved with stuff she shouldn't like she had done in the past with serious cases or something, not this!

“It is 3 am; please take your… friend out of here.” a dismissive wave of her hand showed that there wasn't much room for arguing—none really because she's already out the door with a low mumble to herself before her daughter could say anything. tomorrow's talk is gonna be awful, that's for sure.

“just keep quiet some more, then you can go home, alright?” the blue haired girl softly whispered, leaning up and kissing the soft skin on your shoulder to reassure that you're not leaving until you get a few well deserved orgasms, her fingers already going back to rubbing small circles.

she's not gonna let a pretty girl leave her bedroom unsatisfied even if it means getting caught again.

masterlist

[deathbxnny]

hey I need you SO BAD to do like an arcane reaction where they’re drunk and what they do/say while it and btw I love your writing

What Arcane characters are like when drunk. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Sevika x Gn!Reader

So this may have become a little too angsty for some of them, so uh... don't mind me-

Also, thank you so much! I'm glad you love my writing. It means a lot to me!<33

Content: Alcohol obviously, some potential heavy angst, Pit fighter Vi, established romantic relationships, some toxic behavior, this has been written by someone who has never drank a sip of alcohol in their life so I'm sorry if this is unrealistic, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not fully proofread))

》VI

Her being drunk wasn't unusual, and in fact, it has become the norm for her at this point. It was the only way for her to numb the agony she was going through every day, and there was no stopping the cycle she was in. If she wasn't drunk, then she was fighting. But even the line that was drawn between those two states she was constantly in was becoming blurry and unintelligible. Things were getting out of hand, and so was her aggression towards everything that moved, anything that cared for her.

But at least you were still here with her, trying your best to keep her together and intact when she refused to be.

She can be cruel and unfocused whilst drunk, often either yelling or punching things to express her frustrations, and yet she never dared hurt you. You were the only light she had left, and she'd be damned if she snuffed you out, too. But this doesn't mean that she can control her words at times. She says things she regrets all the time, insults that cut deep or accusations that made no sense were common. Yet you stayed, you always stayed.

A part of her knows you deserve better, but until Jinx showed up, she refused to wane off the bottle that kept her even partially functioning daily. In a different life, she'd put the bottle down, however, and just finally hug you instead.

》CAITLYN

She doesn't drink much, and when she does, it's in strict moderation. She has a reputation to keep up and can't let her sharp senses falter at any time, especially once she becomes the commander of Piltover. But when it's just the two of you attempting to relax after an impossibly stressful day, the alcohol helps her relax and become more open with her troubles. Her grief had manifested into an uncontrollable force she shyed away from every speaking on, but in drunken moments like these, she'll allow herself to find melancholy in your arms, her flushed face pressed into your shoulder as she did so.

She may cry or laugh of the worries of the day, maybe break down from the guilt and frustrations, let the anger quell over but only still hesitantly even with her judgment clouded. This is a very rare state to see her in after the loss of her mother, and she trusts you to keep this vulnerable part of her safe and sound in your heart behind locked lips.

With that said, knowing how emotional she can get whilst drunk, she tries avoiding drinking too much during functions in case things get too much out of hand. She'd rather not make a fool of herself infront of everyone after all.

》JINX

She doesn't typically drink. But the few times she does with you at her side, she somehow becomes extremely calm and lazy. She'll practically lay in the chair she was sitting in, eyes squinting at a far away point on the wall, whilst she seemingly contemplates life. Most would think that the alcohol would enable her crazy tendencies even more, but alas, it simply turns her mostly docile.

I say mostly, as she usually mentally comes up with the craziest plans instead, all of which are questionably more unethical than the last. She'll eventually lose herself in those thoughts and become either unresponsive or mutter the silliest, incomprehensible things known to man. And there is certainly no in-between.

With that said, she will probably eventually snap out of it and begin rapidly speaking about all these thoughts to you without a single care in the world. Drunk Jinx is somehow less miserable and yet absolutely doesn't like the feeling of it afterward. Sure, it makes her mind stop thinking about her issues and past, but it still feels wrong, hence why it's rare to see her drunk.

Her terrible hangovers alone also cause her to stay away from alcohol in general. It's definitely not worth that pain to her.

》EKKO

Another person who doesn't drink often at all, albeit out of his responsibility as a leader. He has to be a good role model for everyone and only drinks when the occasion calls for it, like a festival or get together with friends and you. That's when he lets loose a little and allows himself to drink more than he probably should, resulting in a very clingy and loving Ekko.

His alcohol tolerance is embarrassingly low, and he always tells himself that he should know better than to down so many glasses at once... yet it's hard to keep count after about 2 and a half of them. Or so he'd say after he sobers up in the morning, much to your amusement. During the time he's fully hammered, though, he'll always have a hand in you and slur his words rather heavily, whilst he practically near proclaims his love for you for everyone to hear. This often results in you having to slap a hand over his mouth before he embarrasses himself further... which is somehow he hates.

He gets teased by the others all the time for it and glares when they mock his loving tone of voice that he only uses when he's in that impaired state with you. This alone makes him abstain from even a singular drop of alcohol... until the next festival roles around and he forgets to keep count again.

But hey, maybe he'll remember next time because you sure as hell won't remind him.

》SEVIKA

She drinks at bars all the time with you, although it's rare to see her ever get completely drunk. She has an extremely high tolerance to alcohol and it shows when there is barely a difference in her behavior. The only thing that may indicate something influencing her would be a slight slur in her voice and her being unwilling to get up or move around much at all. She'll just want to relax and play poker in peace, even if it starts getting hard to see the cards after a while.

Another way to tell that she may be getting drunk is by her sudden overprotectiveness. Sure, it was always there and never left, despite you being able to handle yourself alone. But when she's drunk, anyone that looks at you for too long in a way she doesn't like will either be punched in the face or yelled at to keep it moving.

She also definitely always denys being drunk or even tipsy when you ask her. Whether out of pride or stubbornness, you'll never know, but she will never admit to it. It doesn't matter if she denies it whilst being unable to walk straight either.

[yanderestarangel]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ "toki, mami, estoy puesto pa ti" — sevika x reader

♡┊tw: mtf!sevika, au, afab reader, mommykink, creampie, body worship, praise kink, ovestimulation, unprotected sex, breeding.

"Such a needy little thing, aren't you? So desperate for mommy's cock."

The words left the older woman's mouth as a hoarse and needy grunt.

After spending an entire day cleaning the mess that had been left on her back and taking care of Silco's affairs, Sevika was so horny that she arrived home with her cock hard, practically visible through her pants.

The bulge was rubbed on your ass as soon as she found you in some room. Feeling your scent and throbbing even more, she was needy, needing to take it all out on you and your beautiful body.

Clothes were quickly removed by the two of you, while Sevika whispered how much she missed you and how much she needed this, to bury herself in your pussy until she forgot all the stress and anger that made her muscles tense.

She was on top of you in the blink of an eye, her mechanical prosthetic hand gently but firmly holding your hip, making you shiver at the strangely cold sensation of the metal. Her other hand had two fingers inside your cunt, curling them as she let your juices drip onto the sheets. A soft and smug smile could be seen on the henchwoman's dark lips, her gaze clouded, and drops of precum already escaping from her throbbing length.

"You're adorable when you're dumb,.. Just thinking about when I'm gonna fuck you uh?? Like a good slut... So fucking hot."

Sevika's hand continued its torturously slow exploration between your legs, her fingers sliding through your slick folds, teasing your entrance. She loved how soft and smooth you felt, how perfectly you fit in her hand. Her fingers moved slowly, teasingly, brushing over your sensitive flesh and making you whimper and arch into her touch. However, she soon felt you wanting more. She felt your wet heat rubbing against her hardening cock, her hips bucking up involuntarily.

The tall woman gripped your hips tightly, guiding you as you ground against her, coating her shaft in your slick arousal. Sevika loved how eager you were, how you seemed to crave her touch, her body, with such intensity. She needed that, to feel that you were there, that everything was real. Sevika's hands slid down to grip your ass, kneading the soft flesh as she pulled you down onto her, the head of her cock nudging insistently at your entrance —She rocked her hips up, pushing the tip of her cock inside you, just barely breaching your tight hole. The sensation was electric, sending shivers down her spine.

"Damn, sweetheart... a-a fucking tight pussy, you're going to make me cum so hard..." —she forced herself to go slow, to savor every moment of this... Even if it was impossible with every obscene and beautiful sound that came out of your mouth every time your balls hit your ass. Sevika began to move, her hips rocking up to meet yours, setting a slow, deep rhythm.

Each thrust was measured and deliberate, designed to hit that sweet spot inside you that made your toes curl. But as much as she wanted to cum, to fill you up with her seed, Sevika knew she couldn't rush this. Not when you were looking at her with those big, pleading eyes, not when you were whimpering so sweetly for her touch.

So instead, she pulled out suddenly, making you both groan at the loss. But then she was rubbing the tip of her cock against your sensitive clit, the head slick with your juices, and you were crying out, your back arching beautifully; her hips rocking against you, the tip of her cock sliding through your wet folds, not quite entering you but teasing your entrance. It was maddening, the way she touched you, the way she denied you what you needed most.

"Do you really deserve to be fucked by me?... Or can't handle your own wife's dick...? You're so beautifully pathetic like this, barely able to deal with me." Sevika didn't wait for you to beg, not this time, going back inside your heat while she made you suck one of her breasts, firm but soft, making you moan into her soft skin... The volume of her cock in your belly made her drool, the thought of filling you up, breeding you, claiming you so completely - it was almost too much to bear.

"Fuck, baby," she growled, her hips snapping up harder, deeper. "You want mommy's cum inside this tight little pussy? Want me to knock you up?"

Her thrusts became erratic, losing their rhythm as she chased her own release. She could feel it building, that familiar tightening in her balls, the heat coiling at the base of her spine.

With a final, powerful thrust, Sevika buried herself to the hilt inside you, grinding her pelvis against yours as she let out a guttural moan. Her cock twitched and pulsed as she emptied herself into your waiting womb, painting your insides with thick ropes of her hot seed. It felt like it went on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her until she was spent, collapsing back against the bed.

Sevika held you close, her softening cock still nestled deep inside you, as you both caught your breath. She could feel the sticky evidence of her release seeping out around her shaft — "Mmm, fuck," she murmured, nuzzling into your neck. "Never gonna let you go... Gonna keep this pussy full of my cum, make sure you're always heavy with my child."

She rolled her hips lazily, enjoying the feeling of your warmth surrounding her. Sevika had never felt so possessive... She felt satisfied but not complete yet.

"round two baby?"

★ ! yanderestarangel©

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Chapter 5

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“You want to talk about it?” Her mate asked her flatly and Mor couldn’t help but grimace.

"No," Mor said simply, her tone clipped. She had been hoping to avoid this conversation, but it seemed as though Emerie was not willing to let her off that easily. "There's nothing to talk about."

Her mate just snorted. “Yeah, absolutely nothing,” she said sarcastically. “How about the fact that the male that spend 500 years being in love with you, met his mate 2 years ago and hasn’t said a single thing about it to any member of his family?”

"What do you want me to say, Em?" she asked with a sigh.

At the start…before Nesta had forced her to actually confront what she was feeling…Before she actually thought about the fact, that no…it wasn’t actually funny for Azriel to keep their mate from them…and it also wasn’t normal for him. Of course, Azriel liked his privacy, it was something that he fiercely guarded, but he was also…he wouldn’t have actually hidden away his mate from his family. He would have introduced her, would have invited her to birthdays and Winter Solstice and Starfall…

But he hadn’t. 

He had rather hidden away every trace of that relationship than actually talk to any of them about it. 

“Nesta told me that she laid into you,” Emerie said with a shrug. “You did use Azriel, you know that, Mor.”

Mor's expression hardened at Emerie's words. 

Emerie was right. She had used him. 

Of course, at the time…she had been desperate, afraid of the feelings that she had been having…willing to hide them… but the way she had gone about it hadn’t been…It hadn’t been fair. 

She just didn’t like to reflect on that. 

"It doesn't matter now, Em," she said flatly. "It's in the past."

“Is it?” Emerie asked, sharply. “You never tried to actually talk to Azriel about it. You just expected him to be alright with it. Alright with us,” she continued. “He has never once been anything but polite to me, but quite frankly he would have had every right to be pissed off.”

Mor just so managed not to grimace. 

Not a single word. Not a single gesture. Nothing but politeness and kindness had come from Azriel after her and Emerie’s mating bond had snapped. Nothing. 

"You don't think I know that? You don't think I'm racked with guilt every damn day?" she asked her mate, turning away from from Emerie, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "I know that I hurt him, Em. I know that I used him. But what do you want me to do about it now? It's in the past, it's done. I can't change it."

Emerie was silent for a moment, her expression softening slightly. "You can apologize," she said softly. "You can try to mend what you broke. And maybe, just maybe, he'll forgive you."

Mor let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Apologize? For what?" she asked, her voice dripping with self-mockery. "For using him? For making him think he had a chance with me when he never did? For breaking his heart when I knew damn well how he felt about me?"

Emerie's expression hardened again. "Yes," she said firmly. "For all of those things. Because at the end of the day, Mor, you used him. And he deserves better than that."

Mor's shoulders slumped, the fight leaving her all at once. She knew that Emerie was right. She knew that she had been selfish, that she had hurt Azriel in a way that could never be undone. But the thought of facing him, of admitting her mistakes and opening herself up to the pain and rejection that surely awaited her…it was terrifying.

“I imagine he had a few very good reasons to keep Irena a secret from all of us,” Emerie said softly. “Regardless of what feelings he once harboured for you…he was always your friend, Mor. And he kept his mate a secret from you.”

Mor sighed, her shoulders slumped. "I know," she said softly. "I know. I thought it was jsut Az being Az but it’s not, is it?”

Emerie reached out, placing a gentle hand on Mor's arm. "No," she said softly. "It's not. It's him protecting something that he loves. And I don't blame him for that."

***

“Are you hungry?” Azriel asked his mate softly.

Madja had checked on her the evening before…had told her to keep off her leg for a few days and plied her with more potions, bandages the bruises again… given her more sleeping draught. It hasn’t stopped Irena from waking up twice with nightmares.

"No," Irena said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't have much of an appetite." She looked pale, her eyes dull and lacking their usual sparkle. It was clear that she hadn't slept well, and his heart ached at the sight of her discomfort.

Shock had dissipated and left his mate…grieving and sad and Azriel curled himself tighter around her.

He could feel the weight of her sadness and grief, and it broke his heart to see her this way. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her close and hoping to offer some comfort and support.

“You need to eat something, love,” he insisted softly. “Whatever you want.” 

He really didn’t care if all she had in her stomach were her favourite cookies, at least that would be something. 

Irena shook her head, burying her face in his chest. "I don't want anything," she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. "Just...just stay here with me."

Azriel's heart tugged at her words, and he pulled her even closer, cradling her against him. "Of course," he whispered, his lips brushing the top of her head. "I'm not going anywhere, love,” he promised her fiercely. “But you still need to eat something,” he whispered. “How about the shadows get you one of those blueberry pastries you like?”

Irena sighed, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Alright," she said softly. "I do love those pastries." She looked up at him, her eyes still dull but a small hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He didn’t even need to order the shadows to do anything, they had one of her favourite blueberry pastries on a plate on the bed side table in a breath. *Please tell me you left the money,* he told them mentally.

The shadows seemed almost indignant. *Of course we left it. Do you think we're thieves?* Azriel smiled at their tone."

"Of course not," he said aloud, reaching for the pastry and offering it to Irena. "You're just very efficient." The shadows swirled around him almost smugly at the praise, and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“Thank you,” Irena thanked them softly. The shadows preened.

Azriel chuckled again, watching as the shadows swirled around Irena, as if basking in her gratitude. It was cute how they seemed almost puppy-like in their desire for her attention. 

He was amazed, as always, by how much the shadows adored her.

He had never expected them to warm up to anyone else, especially not as quickly as they had to his mate. 

Suddenly…as soon as he had properly introduced his shadows to her…as soon as it was clear that she wasn’t going to start flinching away from them or from him if they showed up to badger her…as soon as that was clear, they had started to dote on her. Seemingly so pleased that there was another person that wasn’t scared off them. 

The shadows and Irena had formed a bond that defied explanation, and it made Azriel so happy to see the two things he cherished most in the world getting along so well.

(Even if he sometimes got jealous that the shadows never had doted on him like they did on Irena. He got porridge for breakfast but Irena got the ridiculous expensive pastries from the newest high end bakery. Irena got bubble bath, while he only got salt dumped into his bath water and got told that it was good for his muscles.) 

He watched as the shadows swirled around Irena, nuzzling against her like cats seeking affection. Irena laughed softly as they tickled at her ears and played with her hair.

He knew that his shadows were often feared and misunderstood, but with Irena they were playful and affectionate. It was like she had unlocked a whole new side of them, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of them interacting so sweetly with her.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "I never thought I'd see the day when my shadows would be so smitten," he teased, his lips curving into a small smile. "I should be jealous, but I can't help but find it adorable."

Irena laughed, her eyes sparkling for the first time that day. "They're so sweet," she said, reaching up to brush her fingers through the shadows that surrounded her. "It's like they're a different side of you."

Azriel chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "I guess they are a part of me, in a way," he said. "And they seem to have a mind of their own, especially when it comes to you." He watched as the shadows nuzzled against her cheek, almost vying for her attention.

"They're quite taken with you," he said with a grin. "I don't blame them. Still, it's strange to see them so affectionate towards someone else." He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

"But it makes me happy to see them like this," he said softly, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "It's like you're bringing out a side of them that I never knew existed. And it's a beautiful thing to witness." He leaned in, pressing another soft kiss to her forehead. "Just like you."

There was a knock at the door.

*The High Lord and the Ancient One,* the shadows offered. *And the healer.*

*I’ll deal with them,* Azriel said with a snort.

“Finish your breakfast, alright?“ he told Irena softly as he slid out of the bed. Irena nodded, a small smile on her face. 

"Thank you," she said softly, watching as he got up to answer the door.

“Madja,” he greeted the healer drily. “Irena just had breakfast. The bruises are already lightening,” he reported.

Madja nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Good," she said. "Keep an eye on her for the next couple of days, make sure she takes it easy. The leg needs to heal properly." He opened the door further, letting Madja slip in, and could just hear, "How are you feeling, my dear?" From Madja and Irena’s soft answer.

Which meant that Azriel turned towards his brother. “What do you want?” He demanded from Rhys, his voice sharp. 

Rhys held his hands up in surrender. "Calm down, Az," he said, his voice low. "I just wanted to check on Irena. Amren looked at the spellbook that Merrill was using,” Rhys explained.

“And?” Azriel asked flatly.

Did it actually matter? Merrill had been stupid and arrogant and a thousand other things. The spell didn’t seem to have done anything to Irena…her injuries had been thanks to the debris that had resulted in the spell going absolutely haywire, killing Merrill and seemingly exploding her office. 

“It was written in a language I do not know, but the best match is ancient Illyrian,” Amren gave back drily. 

Azriel's expression darkened at Amren's words. "Ancient Illyrian?" he repeated, his mind racing. "That can't be good."

Not at all. He didn’t even want to think about what his ancestors had come up with. 

"It seems to be a very old dialect," Rhys explained. "One that hasn't been spoken or written in centuries. It'll take some time to decipher it, but we're working on…”

“It seems to be a healing spell. Probably used in childbirth,” Amren cut him off. “When it didn’t find a pregnant female to latch onto, it redoubled back onto Merrill.”

"So Merrill's own spell backfired on her," Azriel mused. "And Irena got caught in the crossfire." He rubbed a hand over his face. “Has the spell done anything to Irena?” He demanded.

“Madja didn’t think so,” Rhys said carefully. “I wanted to check on Irena if that’s alright with you.”

He crossed his arms, not willing to entertain that even for a moment. 

“No,” he said flatly. 

“Let him in, Azriel,” his mate said softly, and he turned towards her, staring at Irena. 

The shadows were already dragging a fur around her shoulders, fluffing the pillows behind her, as Madja bandaged her leg.

Irena met his gaze, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He didn’t want Rhys anywhere near her, Azriel was certain of that. And still…an still…

“Fine,” Azriel growled, stepping aside to let Rhys through. "Don't overstay your welcome," he warned Rhys. 

Rhys nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips at Azriel's protectiveness. He clapped a hand on Azriel's shoulder reassuringly. "I won't stay long," he reassured his brother. "I just want to make sure she's alright."

Amren rolled her eyes, but for once didn’t say another word as Azriel closed the door. 

“High Lord,” Irena greeted Rhys, every inch the perfect lady even while she was laid up in her bed.

Rhys inclined his head, smiling gently at Irena, while Azriel already crossed the room to sit at her bedside, taking her hand in both of his. She reassuringly squeezed it. 

"How are you feeling?" Rhys asked her. 

Irena gave him a small smile, shrugging her shoulders a little. "I've been better," she admitted. "But I'm healing, I suppose." She gestured to the leg, Madja was bandaging once again.  "Madja says I'll be good as new in a few days. And I’ve had worse,” she added flatly.

Rhys chuckled softly, his eyes softening with concern. "I don't doubt it," he said. "But still, it must have been quite a harrowing experience." He paused for a moment, looking at her intently. "I wanted to speak to you about what happened," he said gently. "If you feel up to it, of course."

Irena nodded, steeling herself for whatever questions Rhys might have. "Go ahead," she said quietly.

"I just wanted to ask you about what you saw when the spell hit you," Rhys said carefully. "Do you remember anything after the initial blast? Could you show me?”

“No.” Azriel snapped. “You are not going read her mind, Rhysand.” Not in a million years. 

He nearly bared his teeth at his High Lord in annoyance, already regretting letting him into their room. 

Irena was healing.

Rhys held up his hands in surrender, his eyes flickering to Azriel for a moment. "I wasn't going to do anything without her permission,  brother," he assured him calmly.

“It’s alright,” Irena agreed with him. “It’s fine, Azriel,” she assured him softly.  Azriel tensed for a moment, torn between wanting to protect her and respecting her wishes. "I want to do this." She turned her attention back to Rhys. "Go ahead."

Rhys nodded, his expression serious. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low. "It might be difficult to recall the memories, but I need you to try."

Irena just inclined her head. "I'm sure," she said firmly. "Just...just go ahead."

Azriel watched, holding her hand tightly. Rhys was well trained at using his daemati abilities, but that didn’t mean that…

A moment later a soft shudder run through his mate, and Azriel growled. 

“Thank you, Irena,” Rhys said quickly, clearly already withdrawing from her mind.

“What kind of spell was it?” Itena asked her voice hoarse. 

Rhys sighed, "The spellbook was written in some kin of ancient language, we think some dialect of Illyrian. The spell itself was healing spell, probably used for childbirth," he explained. "The magic was searching for a pregnant female to latch onto, but when it couldn’t find one, it became more volatile," he said, his expression grave. "And that's when it found you, Irena. It was a complete accident, but the effects were still devastating."

“Did it do…anything to me?” Irena asked Madja quietly.

Madja looked up from the bandages she was applying to Irena's leg, her expression softening as she took in Irena's worried expression.

Madja studied her for a moment, her eyes flickering over the various scrapes and bruises on Irena's body. "Not as far as I can tell,” Madja said finally. "You're healing nicely, and there are no lasting effects to your body that I can see.”

It was something. It was reassuring to know that her physical injuries were being healed, and that there were no lasting effects.

Azriel squeezed Irena's hand, relief flooding through him at Madja's words. 

It was good. Some form of healing being found…

And the last thing Azriel had expected, where Irena’s next words, as she addressed Rhysand. 

“I’ll hand over my duties to Madja, as soon as I can,” Irena said softly. “I am aware that after what happened I am no longer suitable to make any more research involved decisions. I take full responsibility for what happened.“

Her voice was even, measured. Calm. 

Even when he could see the storm in her eyes…even when he could see…

She loved her job. He knew that she loved her job. She adored it in fact. And she excelled in it too. Irena seeme to be made for her job in the House of Wind. And to hear her contemplating giving it all up, just because of an accident that hadn’t been her fault at all…

Azriel opened his mouth to protest but Rhys spoke before he could say anything. "That won't be necessary," Rhys said firmly. "Irena, what happened was a complete accident. You had no control over what happened, and we all know that." He shook his head, his expression serious. "You can't blame yourself for what happened."

Rhys leaned forward slightly, his gaze intent on Irena. "If anyone is to blame, it's Merrill," he said softly. "She was the one who was messing with magic beyond her understanding, she didn’t follow your orders and she was the one who unleashed that spell. You were just an innocent bystander in all of this."

He paused, looking between Azriel and Irena, his expression softening. "We will need to take precautions going forward, so nothing like that can ever happen again." he said carefully. "But we can figure that out together. And you do not need to give up your duties, Irena. We need you."

Irena looked down at the blankets in her lap, her fingers fiddling with a loose thread. "But what if something like this does happen again?" she asked softly.

Rhys shook his head, his expression firm. "It won't," he said, his voice filled with conviction. “None of what happened was your fault,” Rhys repeated firmly.

Azriel nodded in agreement, his grip on Irena's hand tightening. "He's right," he said gruffly. "You didn't do anything wrong. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, love. This is on Merrill, not on you. "

“And you can’t quit because otherwise we’ll all drown under paperwork. Well, more than we already do,” Rhys said with a sigh.

Irena chuckled softly, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Well, I suppose I can't let that happen," she said wryly. "I can’t let the high Lord deal with even more paperwork, can I?“ she said drily.

Rhys moved to stand but then he suddenly froze. “You have been doing this on purpose,” he suddenly said, staring at her.

“Doing what?” Irena asked, cocking the head to the side. “Make sure that the library generates plenty of paperwork that needs the High Lord’s personal attention?”Rhys stared at her for a moment, his expression a mixture of surprise and awe. 

"You really are quite devious, aren’t you?" he said with a small laugh. "I never would have thought you’d be using your job specifically to ensure that I spend even more time doing paperwork."

“I don’t.” Irena said flatly. “It was petty revenge.”

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. "Petty revenge?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What on earth did I do to deserve such punishment?"

Irena just stared at him for a moment. “Maybe you should think a bout how you have been treating my mate.”

What? 

Azriel had had no clue that…

Azriel hadn’t known about that. Hadn’t had the faintest inkling. 

Irena had been making sure that Rhys had more paperwork to go through?!

Rhys looked at him for a moment before sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. "I suppose I deserved that one," he admitted. 

Azriel just grunted, his expression flat. "You deserved a lot more than that," he muttered. But there was no real anger in his voice. He was too tired for anger at Rhys. All he cared about right now was Irena. 

“You really are a perfect match,” Rhys said with some amusement. “And I do owe Azriel an apology,” he said simply. "I’ve been harsh on you, Azriel. And I haven’t been fair. I’ve been treating you like a tool, instead of like a brother, and I owe you an apology for that.”

Azriel was taken aback by Rhys's words. He had grown used to the way Rhys treated him - as a weapon first, and a brother second. Hearing Rhys acknowledge his mistakes was…certainly unexpected, and it left him feeling a little off-balance.

He paused for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to respond. Finally he looked up at Rhys, his expression serious. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I appreciate the apology."

Rhys nodded, his expression sincere. "I mean it," he said quietly. "I'll do better moving forward."

[choslut]

i want to see more sub vi bc i want reader to make her feel good😔 i wish she was real

warnings : slight fingering, minor dirty talk

a/n : at first i was a little hesitant because i’m not used to writing sub!characters but the moment i opened my laptop the words came out like vomit… i wish vi was real too, and i may become a sub!vi truther (maybe). here’s my take on a desperate subby vi, hope you enjoy it !! 💓💓

usually, vi tends to be the more dominant one in the relationship. you're more than happy with it, especially since it always ends with you receiving more orgasms than you could ever want in a single sitting.

and even though you're more than satisfied, you can't help but beg the question: who pleasures the pleasurer?

you've asked vi about this a number of times, but she's always brushed it off, saying she's always more comfortable giving you pleasure than receiving it.

"you're my pleasure, doll," she'd always say, stroking your hair and giving you one of those lopsided smirks she loves giving. "i already feel good when you're underneath me, moaning like a little slut." she'd run her thumb along your bottom lip and slip it into your mouth, resting it heavily on your tongue as her scarred lip stretches into a smile. "keep being my good girl, and i'll always be happy."

you thought that was the end of things, but recently, you've been noticing things about her, things that weren' t there before. she's been going to bed earlier and eating less, and your sex life has taken a dramatic plummet.

it isn't a complaint. you understand that sometimes, the sex needs a rest, but even when you dress up all nicely in the silk nightgown you know she loves taking off of you, she doesn't give you any more than a kiss on the lips and a weak smile.

" 'm tired tonight, doll," she mumbles, stroking your cheek before weaving past you and into the bedroom. at first, you thought it was cheating, but when you follow her on your tiptoes, you find her curled up on the bed, head in the pillows and chest rising and falling with bated breaths.

"are you okay?" you perch on the edge of the bed next to her, bringing up your hand to stroke her side. "you seem distant." you curl up next to her, acting as the big spoon as you perch your head on her shoulder. "tell me what's wrong."

vi is silent, until you start kissing her neck slowly, and she lets out a quiet whine.

oh.

"is this what it is?" you whisper, hands sliding along her body and slipping into her pants. "are you feeling... needy? felt like you couldn't tell me?"

"i just wanna be the best for you," she breathes as your fingers find her now pulsing clit, lips never stopping their assault on her neck. "didn't want you to worry about me."

"oh, vi..." your voice is all but a pitiful simper as you watch her begin to slowly buck her hips against your gyrating fingers, desperately in search for some amount of friction to appease her desperation. "why didn't you say something?"

"too busy making you feel g-good." she's so loyal, so determined to please you that she forgot all about herself in the process. how loyal, like a puppy.

you aren't aware of that last past falling from your lips, but you feel and hear vi's reaction in all its glory: a long, drawn-out groan of your name as well as her back arching into you.

you've never seen your usually-dominant act so vulnerable before, but you're loving it. "does it feel nice to be praised, vi?" she nods desperately, and you giggle sweetly. "you deserve to be praised, love. you treat me so well, don't you?"

"mhm, mhm," and you can tell she's getting close by the way her thighs close around your wrist. "keep doing that, please."

"what, like this?" your fingers press down on your clit harshly and vi seemingly short-circuits, words jumbled as she begins to tremble against your touch. "let yourself go for me, vi. you deserve it for being so good to me."

© choslut — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Broken Mind | Josh Washington x Reader

......

Another day, another Until Dawn rewrite by yours truly <3

I've got Rami Malek on the brain again so I decided to revise this old 2016 fic I wrote about Josh being accompanied by Reader in the shed (after his prank reveal). Changed a few things around and added stuff from the prologue, but all in all the plot's the same (except they're together)

Anyways enjoy!

......

"Hey, [y/n]. Got a special delivery for you."

Hearing the quiet giggles of the Washington sisters, you looked up from your phone and smiled upon seeing your boyfriend being held up by the two of them.

He looked plastered as hell and half-asleep, but his eyes were slightly open. The moment they landed on you, lopsided grin spread across his lips.

"[Y/n]...baby...?"

"Yes. It's me, Josh." With a chuckle, you put down your phone and assisted the girls in helping him lay on the sofa. You decided to let him rest on top of you, seeing as he already had his arms wrapped around your torso. "Jeez, so clingy, huh? How much did you drink?"

"Mhm...I forgot.." His words were slurred.

"Of course you did." Putting your arms around him, you lightly scratched at his scalp with your fingertips, hearing his hums of content as he looked to his sisters.

While Hannah left, Beth smiled back and took a picture of him being all cuddly with you, reminding herself to send to you later. After that, she finally left you both alone.

"They take good care of you."

"Yeah..they're..the best." Josh mumbled tiredly into your chest, hugging you tighter. "But 'm glad you're here...thank you for being by my side. I love you sooooooooooo much."

"Of course, Joshie. I love you, too." You chuckled, holding him close until he dozed off again, before you ended up falling asleep yourself, enveloped by the warmth of the cabin fire and the one you loved most.

He probably won't remember much of this in the morning, but that was fine.

For once, everything felt right in the world.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"[Y/n], honey? Baby? Sweetheart?"

Blinking, you returned to the cold and cruel present, looking to the man tied to the post.

"Yes, Josh?" You sighed tiredly, wiping the blood from the corner of your lip.

"I'm pretty cold. How 'bout we loosen these restraints a little and-?"

"I'm sorry, but...I don't think that's a good idea right now."

"What? I....I can't believe it. You would let those jerks do this to me?!! Your boyfriend? After all I've done for you?!!" Angrily, Josh tugged at his restraints, gnashing his teeth at you like some animal. "I feel hurt. Who does this to someone they love?!"

"First of all, I didn't tie you up. And second...you're not the only one who's gotten hurt tonight."

"If anyone deserves to feel hurt, it should be me! After what they did to my sisters..they had it coming."

As much as you wanted to snap at him for acting this way, you knew that he wasn't well, and getting angry right back wasn't going to make anything better.

Instead, you opted to look outside the shed, observing the snowfall while trying to ignore the sounds of him whining and struggling with the ropes.

Such sights used to calm your nerves, but now...it was nothing more than a grim reminder of how long and unforgiving this night has been, and how there's still a few hours until sunlight and rescue arrived.

How did you get here?

Well, it was supposed to be a reunion between friends.

You and Josh were still together after the horrible tragedy that befell his sisters exactly one year prior, and you were with him through the long days he spent trying to isolate himself, and the difficult nights he spent wishing he didn't wake up at all.

You stayed with him no matter what.

No matter how many times he tried pushing you away...you always stayed. And while he didn't express it as much as he wanted to, he appreciated it.

That's the only reason why he didn't subject you to the "prank" he had laid out for the rest of the group.

You knew his passion for film projects, having helped him with some small YouTube ones yourself. You knew that this year, he wanted to do something to "really bring the gang back together", and you let him be when he insisted on working alone.

God, why didn't you press him on what exactly this prank entailed?

Why didn't you pick up the signs that he was off his meds?

What he enacted was horrific beyond measure--a prank that you didn't even think he was capable of carrying out.

One that seemed so real that you were almost convinced that you lost him to a murderer.

When Chris came to you sobbing in remorse over how the "Psycho" tricked him into killing your boyfriend, you didn't know what to feel. You wanted to see the body to confirm it, but given his and Ashley's reactions..it wasn't worth scarring your eyes or mind over.

It left you unbelievably sad and numb, although you were left confused when through his blubbering, he admitted that the saw blade was rigged to kill Josh despite choosing to save him.

That was the first sign that you knew something was off.

You didn't know anybody that held a massive grudge against him to the point of rigging a trap to murder him only.

But only after Josh revealed everything to Chris, Ashley, Sam, Mike, and you....that's when it all made sense.

And you felt betrayed.

You couldn't believe he'd orchestrate this whole scheme behind your back.

How could you have been so naive and trusting?

You felt like you should have known what he was up to. The others gave you suspicious looks and even Mike wondered for a moment if you were an accomplice...but you weren't.

That was the truth.

You had no idea.

Now all you felt was lingering guilt and festering anger that this was Josh's twisted idea of "revenge" against the people who didn't even kill his sisters. Against people like Chris who didn't even know what happened until he woke up.

And in a way, you felt like it was against you for not waking him up in time to stop the prank that led to Hannah and Beth running out of the cabin.

No matter how many times he claimed you had nothing to do with it, you felt like he was punishing you, too.

So now, you, Chris, and Mike have taken him away from the others, to a shed where he couldn't hurt anybody. Apparently Jess was dead, and despite his insistence that he didn't kill her....Mike didn't believe a word he said, having seen her body firsthand in some mining elevator.

Then when he started making lewd comments about Chris and Ashley, both of the men were growing agitated, debating on whether to make him shut up by force or not.

Finally, you intervened before they could decide, offering to watch over him until sunrise. You're the only one who had a small chance to talk some sense into him and make him realize his mistakes.

Mike was reluctant to leave you alone with him, thinking he'll guilt trip you into letting him go, but you convinced him and Chris you'll be fine.

There were some...scary things you've seen out in the woods earlier, and the last thing you wanna do is leave Josh alone with them nearby.

Even after all the shitty things he did, even after faking his own death...you still loved him.

You didn't believe he murdered Jess.

That's not what Josh would do.

"Your sisters wouldn't have wanted this." You quietly said, looking back at the wide-eyed man. "I wish things were different that night. I wish they didn't get humiliated. God, I wish Hannah had talked to me instead. But this...all of this was wrong, Josh. What happened doesn't justify-"

"But it worked, didn't it? Listen, I...I-I didn't want anyone dead." He stammered. "I just wanted to see that same terror on their faces. And I got them good! I got you all!!"

"...did you have to give Ash a black eye, though?"

"Look, she stabbed me with scissors! And it still hurts like a motherfucker."

You just gave him an expression that read "well I would have too if a killer was chasing me", and he seemed to understand...given how his shoulders slumped with defeat.

"Baby, 'm sorry..this...was not how our night's supposed to go. But you know what? I'm glad I was the only one laughing! Because NOW THEY KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE ON THE OTHER SIDE!!" Tears of anger pricked his eyes as his voice unexpectedly rose.

You whole body tensed, but you stayed calm, knowing he's only lashing out. "Josh, I know they hurt you. And hurting them back might feel good..but you hurt me too by faking your own death and not telling me how far you intended to take this prank."

"..you would've stopped me if I told you." He mumbled.

"Well maybe I should've been more persistent." You huffed. "If I was, we wouldn't be here. We wouldn't have to talk about why Jess died and why you seem to be the prime suspect-"

"I swear to god, it wasn't me! I don't even know where she is!" Josh snapped, before he curled up, like a child in timeout. "Mike..he wouldn't explain the wheres and whens. He just kept hitting me, pushing me..telling me to shut up...but I didn't do it...I swear. Please, please believe me, [y/n]. I'm sorry that you got roped into this. I-It's..the..the last thing I wanted.." His voice softened. "I'm sorry I've been bad..."

Slowly, you could see bits and pieces of the Josh you once knew coming back. His mind wasn't all there, of course, but you've known him forever.

You should be thinking with your brain and not your heart.

But....

You still love him, and believe in second chances.

"Joshua."

He perked up, anticipating the worst as you pulled up a chair to sit in front of him. For you to say his name like that couldn't have been good.

Maybe you were gonna side with all the rest of them and spit on him.

Maybe you were gonna say that you're leaving him alone here, as Dr. Hill had warned would happen.

Maybe you were finally going to tell him what an unforgivable monster he wa-

"I believe you're innocent. You're not one to take a life. No matter what they say." You suddenly spoke, putting a hand to his soot-coated cheek

Almost immediately, his twitching stopped, and he stared straight at you.

It's like you put him in a trance.

"I'm not gonna leave you."

"..e-even though I've been..all messed up?" He asked cautiously. "I-I mean..I haven't been a good boyfriend lately..."

"That hasn't stopped me from being there for you before." You chuckled. "We're gonna work through this. Even if it's just you and I."

"............"

"I believe you when you say you didn't kill her. Do you believe me?"

It took him a few moments to study your expression, seeing the genuine care and warmth in your eyes. Despite all the horrors you've seen tonight, there was still a spark of hope in them.

That was the light he needed.

"...I-I do..I really do." He sniffled, resting his head on your shoulder, grateful that you didn't push him away despite being covered in dirt and fake blood. "'m sorry...I-I don't deserve you."

"Oh, honey..." You put your arms around him, sighing softly as you felt him tremble against you, tears slowly dampening your jacket. At this point, you knew you got him back, and you were so relieved. "We'll figure something out. Just stay with me."

"You don't think I'm a monster..?" He asked through his sobs. "I mean, everyone treated me like one...you've seen them.."

"....I know. Neither of us can change how they feel. But listen, the only monster here is-"

All of the sudden, a shrill inhumane screech echoed from somewhere outside, deep in the woods, interrupting the tender moment between you two.

Josh sat up with a start, his tearful eyes wide and terrified as he looked to you. "Wh-What was that?"

"That's the real monster I was gonna mention. They call it the Wendigo. Hang on." Crouching down, you managed to find a small pocketknife on his toolbelt, using it to cut the ropes binding him. "It's fast. But it's blind as fuck. We need to get out of here."

Nodding, he got up as quickly as he could, having no time to rub his aching wrists as you grabbed his hand.

The shrieks became louder, forcing you two to hide further inside the shed, sticking close to the back wall where the shadows were darkest. "Shit. Don't move a muscle, okay?"

His breath hitched as the wendigo dropped down in front of the entrance, creeping inside the small building to look for prey. But he took your advice and tried staying still.

You could practically hear you own heartbeat as you held your breath, thumping louder and louder as the creature wandered around. Josh watched it scrape its claws along the wall, creating a sound most unpleasant in an attempt to make him flinch.

It then made direct eye contact with you both.

While you managed to keep perfectly still, you could hear Josh's quiet whimpers, indicating he had a much harder time considering how jittery he was earlier.

All you could do was hope and pray it would leave.

Otherwise...both of you were dead.

Just when you thought your boyfriend was going to lose it completely, the distant snapping of a branch caused the wendigo to turn at blinding speed and sprint out of the shed, returning to the surrounding woods.

"Okay...thank christ.." Letting his hand go, you took a breather, only to see that he was still standing rigid. His eyes showed nothing but pure terror, as he began mumbling something like "was it real" under his breath.

"Josh? Baby?" You shook his shoulders a bit, and he blinked several times, coming back to reality. Relief immediately crossed his face as he realized you were still here. "It's okay. It's gone."

"Tha....That thing w-was real?"

"Yes. I know how to outsmart it. But we can't stay here. We'll be safer at the lodge with the others. We just gotta keep our heads down until then."

"But..what about the-?"

"Don't worry about them. Let's worry about getting out of here, alright?"

Wordlessly, Josh nodded, practically clinging to your arm as you both headed outside and down the snowy trail. He kept mumbling incoherent things, reassuring himself that he was safe with you.

Obviously, he seemed pretty shellshocked, considering the monster he just encountered was real and not a product of his imagination.

He didn't know whether that was better or worse.

Either way, you allowed him to hold onto you, knowing he needed someone--anyone--to lean on right now. And fortunately you were exactly the person he needed.

The only one who could help him come back to his senses.

You swore to never abandon him, and you intend to keep that promise even after all that happened tonight.

You still loved him, and he loved you.

That hasn't changed.

[taurasiluvr]

can u write a fic where paige and reader is on the phone and paige starts touching herself to readers voice? and then reader eventually notices and asks to facetime and yk… this is just a suggestion u don’t have to do it 😭

YES YES YES YES MA'AMMM

away games were the hardest on you and paige, you both thrived on being physically near each other and the separation always felt like an eternity. the long nights apart were filled with longing texts and video calls that could never quite bridge the gap. you missed the feel of her arms around you, the warmth of her body pressed against yours, and the way she made you feel safe and loved.

while you were incredibly proud of her, the distance was a constant reminder of how much you relied on her presence. you would watch her games on the screen, cheering her on from afar, but it never felt the same as being there in person.

tonight was one of those nights.

paige's team was playing an important match out of town, and you found yourself alone in your shared apartment. the space felt emptier without her, the silence almost oppressive. you tried to focus on other things, but your thoughts kept drifting back to her.

the game had just ended, and UConn had won. your phone buzzed with a call from her, and you eagerly answered, a smile spreading across your face at the sound of her voice.

"hey, baby," paige greeted, her voice warm and full of excitement. "we won!"

"i saw! you were amazing out there," you replied, feeling a rush of pride. "miss you so much, though."

"i miss you too," she said, her voice softening. "i hate being away from you."

there was a moment of silence, the connection between you palpable even through the phone. you could almost feel her presence, the memory of her touch lingering on your skin.

"tell me about your day, what'd you do without me?" paige asked, a breathless laugh coming from her lips.

you laid on the bed as you recounted your day. "nothing too crazy, just went to my classes then did some grocery shopping for us," you paused, trying to think of whatever else you'd done. "oh! well, i also did some online shopping, i splurged a new bikini."

"oh?" paige's breath hitched at the thought of that. "yeah, you deserve that, especially after midterms. can't wait to you see wearin' it, looking all pretty..."

paige trailed off and you could tell she was feeling the distance, maybe even more than you. you smiled at the thought and you couldn't help but tease her a little more.

"maybe i'll give you a little fashion show when you get back," you teased, your voice playful and sultry. "just for you."

paige let out a low groan, her breath hitching again. "you know what that does to me, baby. you're killing me here."

you giggled, enjoying the effect you had on her. "good, want you to think about it all night."

"god, i will," she murmured, her voice husky. "always know how to drive me crazy."

you bit your lip, feeling a surge of warmth at her words. "i miss you so much, paige. i wish you were here with me right now."

"miss you too," she replied, her voice softening. "more than anything. but hearing your voice makes me feel like i'm right there with you."

you could hear the sincerity in her voice, and it made your stomach ache with need. "tell me what you'd do if... if you were here," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire.

paige let out a slow, deep breath. "if i were there, i'd kiss you. slow and deep, just the way you like it. let my hands roam over your body, feeling every inch of you."

you closed your eyes, letting her words wash over you, imagining her touch.

"i'd kiss your neck, your shoulders," paige continued, her voice growing more intense. "i'd make my way down to your chest, kissing and sucking on your nipples until you're moaning my name."

a soft moan escaped your lips, your body reacting to her words. "paige," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

"i'd move lower, kissing your stomach, your hips," paige said, her voice thick with desire. "i'd spread your legs and taste you, licking you slowly, teasing you until you're begging for more."

you could feel the heat building between your legs, your hand slipping under your clothes to touch yourself. "fuck, p, that sounds amazing," you gasped, your fingers mimicking the sensations she was describing.

"i'd suck on your clit, making you moan my name," paige continued, her own breath growing ragged as you heard her shift on the other line. "slide my fingers inside you, feeling how wet and tight you are for me."

"yeah, just for you," you moaned, your body trembling with pleasure. "need you, p. need you so much."

"i'm right here, baby," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion as you heard her breaths coming in staggered. "i can feel you, hear you. fuck, don't cum, wanna cum together,"

"oh yes," you panted, your fingers moving faster.

"i'd fuck you with my fingers, curling them just right," paige groaned, her voice low. "keep sucking your clit, making you scream my name as you cum for me."

a few moments pass and you feel the pressure in your lower stomach tighten, and you bit your lip to try and hold off cumming until paige tells you to. you could hear her own breathless moans on the other line as you tried to focus.

"gonna cum, baby, oh fu-fuck," paige groaned out. "cum for me, fuck, cum for me," she rambled as she felt her own orgasm crash over her.

"o-oh, fuck, paige!" you cried out, your body shuddering as you reached the edge. "'m cumming, 'm cumming!"

you let out a loud moan as the orgasm washed over you, your body trembling with the intensity of it. paige's voice was there, guiding you through it, her words a soothing balm to your pleasure-wracked mind.

as the pleasure ebbed, you lay there, breathless and spent. paige's breathless voice came through the phone, soft. "i love you so much," she whispered.

"i love you too," you replied, your voice filled with emotion. "can't wait to have you back in my arms."

"soon, baby," paige promised. "soon."

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

Any thoughts on sub!mob boss Wanda?

OH BOY I ABSOLUTELY DO!!!

You're practically drooling while watching her, your eyes landing on the curve of her backside while she leans over the man currently restrained to a chair. A knife glints in her hand, twisting slightly against the mans neck while he whimpers and tells her that he doesn't know anything.

That's bullshit, even you know that.

Green eyes glance back at you, pupils expanding as she takes in your casual stance by the doorway. You're leaned up against the wall, arms crossed as you take in every detail. You nod, and she smiles slightly before digging the knife beneath one of the man's fingernails.

God, she's so attractive when she smiles as a man writhes in pain beneath her.

---

"You did so well," You murmur, locking her office door behind you. There's a faint scent of blood, and you know that she'll have to bleach yet another one of her shirts.

Wanda smiles, not bothering to turn on the lights, the lamplight from outside streaming in. She'd sent most of her men home for the day, besides the ones you had guard duty tonight, so you practically had the whole warehouse to yourselves.

"Thank you, love," she responds, and steps towards you. It feels like something snaps in you, and you surge forward to meet her lips with your own, your hands planting themselves around her waist as you push her back towards the desk.

God, you've been waiting all day to do this. It's been many hours of watching Wanda lead, giving orders and harsh glares while she runs her - honestly very illegal - business. Technically she was a mob boss, but you didn't really care.

Now that you were finally alone with her, that cold exterior of hers melts away the second your tongue swipes across her lips. Her body is warm and pliant beneath your fingertips, your hands moving her to bend over the desk.

You press yourself against her, and Wanda gasps at your hard length as she grinds back on it. You can feel her desperation beginning to fill the air as she moans slightly when you rock your hips forward.

"Do you want it?"

"Fuck, yes I want your strap. Please, fuck me. I need to let go, its been a long day. I need you, darling."

Well, you can't say no when she begs so prettily.

"Oh baby, you know I can't deny you when those pretty lips start begging," you murmur in her ear, watching her cheeks flush as she grinds back against you.

You kiss her neck, drawing whines and moans from her as she grips the table until her knuckles bleed white. With one hands, you unzip your pants and let the strap spring free, pulling down Wanda's bottoms in one smooth motion.

Rubbing the strap against her slick entrance, you breathe in the scent of her arousal. She's fully moaning now, begging you in between sharp breaths to fuck her. Her skin is slightly damp against yours, evidence of her desperation.

In one smooth movement, you bury the strap inside her, one hand reaching around to wrap around her neck. You start pumping your hips as you bite into her neck and suck harshly.

"You're mine, say it," you grunt, hearing Wanda moan loudly as you angel the strap to hit her g-spot.

"I'm yours, fuck sweetheart. I'm all yours and everybody knows it."

You feels your orgasm starting to ride, pleasure coursing through you at the feeling of Wanda fucking herself back on your strap with each thrust of your hips.

"You need this, don't you, honey? You need me to put you in your place after a long day of pretending to like control. Isn't that right? You like being my little pet, don't you?"

Wanda lets out a choked whimper, your hand tightening further around her neck as she reaches back to brace herself against your hips. Her fingernails dig in slightly, causing you to hiss in pain and pump your hips harder.

"Yes, yes I love it," she confesses, her words breathy and low. "I like giving you control and I like it when you use me. Please, let me cum. Oh, god I need to cum all over your strap."

"Go on," you urge. "You deserve it."

With a few more thrusts, you feel Wanda begin to shake as her climax hits her. Her moans sound out loudly, bouncing off the walls of her dark office. Her cum smears over your strap, dripping down it's length as it dampens the fronts of your thighs. You slow down, fucking her slowly but deeply, drawing out the last few waves of her orgasm.

"Thank you thank you," she babbles, resting her head against your shoulder.

"Mhmm," You hum and reach around her with your other hand, circling her swollen clit. She looks back at you with wide eyes, fighting briefly against your hold at the overstimulation before your hand squeezes her neck painfully.

"I'm not done with you yet."

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x popular reader, the reader and her boyfriend break up and to get over him, she uses Eddie as a rebound and he doesn’t know it yet after months past. HAPPY ENDING!! your work is truly amazing

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 this one got a bit long but we have a happy ending!

Rebounds

Y/N was the worst at breakups. It didn't matter if the relationship was a week or a year, she reacted the same. But this time, it really hurt. She thought she and Seth would be together forever. She thought it would end in a wedding and a family.

But it didn't. It ended with her in tears and him driving away. It ended just like that, barely seconds to register how quickly it fell apart. She wasn't sure why Seth broke up with her, but it made her feel bad about herself. It made her feel unwanted and unloved. She hated it.

She wanted to feel wanted, desired and needed. She didn't want to be alone. She wanted someone to touch, kiss, and lose themselves with her. What she needed was a rebound.

~~~

She got as drunk as her body allowed. The room was slightly spinning and she swore the ground was moving under her feet. She felt like a mess, but she didn't look like it. She was an eye-catcher. She was single and every boy at the party knew it.

Her eyes were slightly blurry but she could see Seth walking into a bathroom with some girl on his arm. She rolled her eyes and walked outside to get air.

She sighed as the colder air calmed down her heated skin. The smell of cigarette smoke and weed filled her nose as she took a deep breath in. A few people were scattered around, but one person was sitting alone. So she walked and sat right next to them in the grass.

The prickles of grass slightly irritated her skin but it felt so nice to feel solid ground. She turned to see who she sat next to.

"Ah, Eddie the freak Munson," she said, not registering her thoughts were being spoken out loud.

Eddie scoffed to himself as he looked back at her. It was clear she was drunk, her eyes heavy. But she had this bubbly smile that Eddie felt like he couldn't be mad at.

"Ah, Y/N the girlfriend of dickhead Seth," Eddie thought his reply was funny until Y/N's smile dropped and a sad look crossed over her glossy eyes.

"Not anymore!" She spat, "he left me, can you believe that?" She scoffed. She was talking to Eddie like she had a thousand times before. But this was the first time she even looked in his direction.

"I truly can't," Eddie said honestly. If he had Y/N swooning over him he would probably never let her out of sight. Be glued next to her, always feeling her skin.

Eddie always had a crush on Y/N but with their drastic social differences, he knew he had no shot. She had been with Seth for as long as Eddie could remember. Seth never deserved her, but hell neither did Eddie.

Eddie sat and listened to her rant for over an hour. He got lost in her lips a few times but he could easily answer every question she asked. He felt bad for how hurt she was over the breakup, even worse knowing Seth was feet away sleeping with some girl he'd forget by tomorrow.

The night ended with Eddie bringing her home, and he figured he'd never talk to her again.

~~~

He was very, so very, wrong.

"God, I love when you do that," Y/N moaned. Her perfectly painted nails were tangled in his wild curly hair. His skilled mouth was leaving marks down her neck, then scattered around her chest. She loved the high of knowing she was marked by him. All the evidence of their hot and sweaty nights together was displayed on her neck. And she never covered them, why would she? She wanted Seth to know. She wanted Seth to see those marks and regret ever letting her free.

She was snapped back into the moment when Eddie's mouth traveled lower and lower. Her head was thrown back as his mouth explored between her legs.

~~

Even though it was all a rebound, she loved talking with Eddie. He had this adventurous and almost fantasy-like view of the world. He spoke as if he was playing a role on a big stage. His body was always moving with his words and every story he told held her attention from start to end.

She realized she liked doing more than just sex with him. She enjoyed spending time with him and learning about him.

She also realized that she was falling for Eddie. The way he kissed her, held her and opened every door. He was a gentleman and she tripped over her feet over him. She felt she should come clean about her intentions with Eddie, but she froze when he confessed.

"I think I might fall for you," he whispered. His eyes closed as he let the heaviness of his words fill the quiet air.

She was on his chest, his chin on her head as his fingers softly rubbed her arm. They were cuddled under the night sky, another night spent together.

She felt like her heart jumped at his words. But the feeling of guilt settled in her stomach. She took a deep breath and turned her head to look up at him. The apology on her tongue, but then he opened his eyes and looked at her. She felt stunned as she stared into his eyes.

She opened her mouth and the words fell out,

"I think I already did."

She felt real things for him and had the right intentions, so maybe he didn't need to know.

~~~

"EDDIE STOP!" Y/N screamed as she ran through the trailer park. Her sneakers hit the rocks underneath her feet, the sound of Eddie's laugh behind her.

Eddie was right behind her, he was fast with his movements. Before she knew it, she was off the ground for a split second. His arms wrapped around her and protected her body as he took them to the ground. She was laughing so hard that Eddie's face had a permanent smile.

He cushioned her fall, his back hitting the grass as she landed on top of him.

"I told you you'd regret throwing that french fry at me," Eddie smirked, a playful look in his eyes. She looked down at his huge smile, his dimples, and the pinkness of his lips.

"I regret nothing," she said, rolling her eyes but a smile on her face.

"Not even me?" He asked, his face turned serious

Y/N flicked from his eyes to his lips and back up again.

"Not even you," she said before she leaned in and pressed her lips against his.

~~~

Two months passed and their relationship was perfect. Y/N slowly forgot about her secret, so lost in the love she felt for Eddie.

But she should have known with a social life like hers, people began talking. She never kept Eddie and her a secret, proudly showing him off in school. And it wasn't to shove it in Seth's face.

Seth and his girl of the week got into a huge fight. He was stuck alone and single, watching his ex-girlfriend share spit with the town's freak. Something about it made him angry and annoyed. He hated to see them so happy, especially the freak. That freak was hooking up with his ex-girlfriend.

Once Y/N walked away, Seth slipped in. A smug look on his face as he leaned against the locker. Eddie looked at him confused, preparing to walk away but Seth was quick to push him against the lockers.

"What?" Eddie snapped, shoving Seth's hands off of him.

"In such a rush? I just want to talk, freak." Seth said a smile on his face but a glare in his eyes.

"We have nothing to talk about," Eddie said

"Oh, but I think we do," Seth argued

"Seth, leave him alone," Y/N said, coming to Eddie's rescue as she shoved Seth away.

"Oh come on, Y/N, don't you think Eddie deserves the truth?"

Eddie and Y/N froze at his words. Y/N didn't want to turn around, so she kept her back to him. Eddie looked at her confused then back to Seth for answers.

"Seth, don't," she warned. She could feel her fear coming up her throat.

"Don't what? Tell him he was a rebound? That you used him for your own sexual needs? Like a goddamn whore." Seth spat, a proud look on his face as tears welled in Y/N's eyes.

She felt like she couldn't breathe and her body was shaking as she clenched her hands into fists.

Seth smirked as he watched the two fall apart. "Sorry, man. Figured you should know your girlfriend is a slut." With that he walked off, leaving the hallway empty to Y/N and Eddie.

It took everything in her to turn around, she was so scared to see the look on his face.

"Eddie, I can explain," she said as she turned out, tears in her eyes. The sight of him crying was more painful than any breakup she ever had. The way his brown eyes were filled with sadness and betrayal. The pout on his lips as he held back loud cries, and the way his body trembled.

She reached forward and softly touched his arm, and he flinched. Almost as if her touch pained him even more. His tears were quick to turn hot and his pout turned into a scrawl. His eyes were angry.

"Nothing to explain. I should have known you were a liar," he scoffed. He felt angry at himself for being vulnerable with her, for letting himself think it was safe to fall in love with her.

"No! Everything I told you was the truth. I do really like you and I didn't want to say anything because I thought you'd hate me. I fell for you, Eddie. All of that was real." She tried to explain, crying as she desperately tried to find the words that would make him stay.

"Yeah, well you were right," he sighed, his eyes glaring at her as he stepped forward. He was so close she could feel his hot breath smacking her face. He was breathing hard, alerting her just how pissed he was. "I do hate you."

Y/N let out a small sob but recovered quickly. She swallowed more tears and held his face in her hands. "Please, Eddie. You have to believe me. I love you. I should have come clean, and I know that now. I didn't want to hurt you."

Eddie gulped as he felt like his throat was closing in. He hated watching her cry but a part of him thought she deserved it. He was tired of the preps using others and discarding any feelings. He was so hurt by what she did and felt betrayed. He also felt stupid for confessing anything at all.

"Believe you?" he scoffed, "You are just as selfish as everyone else. Using your power to take advantage of the low lives like me. You used me, and now expect me to believe you love me?" More hot tears slipped down his face, hitting her hands as she gripped his face.

"I do love you! I love you so much. It was a mistake but I promise you that by the second time we were together I knew it was more than a rebound. Please believe me. Please love me too." She begged, she leaned in and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was salty as their tears mixed in with their lips. He let out a soft groan as he kissed her back. She clung to his body like he would vanish into thin air.

He kissed her back until he had no air left in his lungs. He pulled away and gently removed her hands from his face.

"I'm sorry, but I can't." He choked out

"Eddie"

"I need some time, let me think about it?" He asked, but both knew it was an excuse to leave. She bit down on her lip hard, drawing blood as she stepped back. She looked down at the floor and nodded. Wiping her tears as she heard him walk away.

Eddie took one last look over his shoulder, watching as she slid down to the floor.

~~~

She gave him time, then more time. So much time, that after two months of nothing, she knew he was done.

She couldn't blame him. She broke his heart in an attempt to fix her own. He had every right to hate her, and she hated herself too. All those mean words he said were all the truth. He deserved way more than what she could have given him.

Eddie struggled to see her in school. He knew she was waiting for him to come back but he couldn't. He didn't want to be a pawn in the popular crowd. He could feel her eyes on him all the time, even if she wasn't there. His friends told him that she always looked his way but he couldn't look back.

Eddie never fell in love, and Y/N was the first one he felt something strong for and it all fell apart. He wasn't sure if they could get back to what they were.

All his friends told him to move on, so that's what he did.

~

Y/N was sitting next to Chrissy as Jason and Seth got their drinks. Y/N hated having to see Seth but he followed Jason around like a dog. And Jason went where Chrissy went.

Y/N was focused on her homework when Chrissy softly nudged her arm.

"Isn't that Eddie over there?"

Y/N looked up in seconds, a strong pain in her stomach as she looked straight ahead.

Eddie sat next to some girl, his arm thrown around her. She couldn't hear but she knew he was laughing from the way his body moved. Another couple sat across from them. The girl looked familiar but the boy didn't.

"Yeah, that's him," Y/N said, sinking down in her seat as she fought back tears. She went back to her homework, but the letters blurred together no matter how hard she focused.

"I'm sorry," Chrissy said as she wrapped her arm around her friend.

"YO Y/N, CHERRY OR REGULAR?"

Y/N groaned in embarrassment as the restaurant looked over at Seth as he yelled from the counter. She looked at him, answered Cherry, and looked right back down.

~

Steve was in the middle of a story when Eddie heard Seth's voice and heard her name. His body stiffened, alerting his date Tori. She looked at him worried but he was looking over his shoulder.

He gulped as he saw her. She was looking down at her books as Chrissy sat next to her, blue eyes glaring at Eddie with her arms crossed.

He found himself hoping she'd look up, even to see a small glance at her face. She must have felt his stare because she easily found his eyes.

It felt like the world froze for them, his eyes peering into hers. He knew he wasn't supposed to feel jealous and hurt that she was there with Seth while he sat next to his date, but fuck he was. He wanted to be the one bringing her the drink, at least Eddie knew what she liked without asking.

He watched as her eyes moved over, inches from him. It clicked that she was looking at Tori, his arm still wrapped around her. He could see the pain clear in her eyes, the small movement of hurt swimming through. She didn't look jealous or mad, just hurt. Curiosity got the best of her and Tori turned around. Upon seeing her, Y/N was quick to dart her eyes back down.

Eddie clenched his jaw as Seth and Jason took their seats, the back of their heads blocking his view from her.

"You okay?" Tori asked, her eyes now on Eddie.

"Yeah, I'm good," he said, turning his attention back to the table.

~

"Excuse me," Y/N said. She could feel the tears beating her so she quickly raced off to the bathroom. She turned on the water and splashed it on her face. She let the coldness sink into her skin as she took deep breaths. Once she felt collected, she walked out.

To her surprise, Eddie stood right outside the door.

"Oh hi," she said quietly, praying it wasn't obvious that she was crying in the bathroom. But it was, he could tell.

"You okay?" He asked softly, even if he was mad at her he'd always care.

"Trying to be. Is that all?" she asked, her tone was a tad snippy but she couldn't help it. She did not need him cornering her when she needed to go home and cry.

"Don't need the attuite. Just wanted to check on you." he snapped back. The tension was thick between them, some of it sexual.

"Oh, my dearest apologies. Yes, Eddie, I am doing so great! You see my ex-boyfriend told me he needed some time to figure out if we could save our relationship and if he was able to love me after my mistake. And two months later, here he is with his arm wrapped around another girl. So sorry that I don't feel like talking." She spat, her arms crossed as she felt anger running through her.

"Oh please," he scoffed, "how many days, or hours did you wait before you got with Seth again?"

"I am not with that asshole. I came here with Chrissy, Jason, and Seth tagged along. I've been giving you time like you asked. But as I can see, you made up your mind. So excuse me." She went to walk past him but he caught her arm.

"Eddie, please. I can't do this. I get it, we are over and I fucked up. Please let me leave." she begged, she couldn't look at him as she felt the tears appearing again.

Even though she asked, it hurt when he let her go. She quickly walked to her table and gathered her things, telling Chrissy she needed to go home.

Chrissy was quick to follow her out, but Eddie was already ahead of her. She stopped short, letting him get to her first.

~

"Baby wait," Eddie sighed as he jogged to catch up to her. She was angrily throwing her books into her car seat.

"Don't call me that!" she snapped, slamming her passenger door shut as she walked to the driver's side. "Your baby is inside waiting."

Eddie knew he deserved that blow, but he kept moving forward. He was gentle as he pressed her against her car. His body trapped hers as she looked everywhere but at him.

"She's not anything compared to you," he said softly, his hand cupping her jaw forcing her to look at him.

"And yet she's the one who has you. What do you want, Eddie? Hurt me as badly as I hurt you?" she whimpered. His thumb softly rubbed her tears away.

"I don't want to hurt you. I think I already did enough. I-I have never felt the amount of love I have for you and I didn't know if I should forgive what you did. I know I wanted to because I want you, but is that the right decision? That is what I needed the time for, and my friend Steve convinced me to try a date and if I couldn't get you out of my head, then I'd know. And here you are, looking eye-catching and making a man stop in his tracks. I'm sorry for not communicating and going the wrong way with this. I know you meant your apology, I realize that now. I believe you, and I love you too."

Y/N smiled at his words, she was going to get another chance. She wasn't going to ruin it by fighting more on this. They both fucked up and said things, but here they were.

Y/N stood on her tiptoes and smashed her lips on his. The kiss had so much more emotion and meaning than the others, making this their best kiss. He kissed her back just as hard.

Maybe they could work this out

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunsonmain @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[slut4megantheestallion]

Hello! I don't know if you have any rules regarding requests, but I sent you my idea. Arcane women x female reader! Especially Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn. They wanted to have something more intimate with the reader, but she can't because of past experiences and she feels frustrated with herself, and she doesn't feel able to tell her partner because she thinks he will judge and abandon her. Many times, the reader has stayed awake while her partner is sleeping and begins to cry, then her partner wakes up after sobs and finds the reader crying, and she finally confesses her trauma and her love comforts her. Again, if you're uncomfortable with this, you're free not to write it down! Hugs!

Characters: Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn.

Hiii<3 yeahh, I'll do this, and yes, I write for arcane sometimes, I do take requests 😄.

Arcane Women x Reader w/ trauma Headcannons

Scenario: The reader struggles with intimacy due to past trauma, afraid of judgment and abandonment. She often stays awake, crying, feeling frustrated herself, and ashamed. Until one night, her partner wakes up and finds her breaking down. Comfort and love follow.

Warning ⚠️: angst, trauma, past abuse, comfort, fluff.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Before you ended up in Zaun/Piltover and met, vi, Jinx, or caitlyn, your life was far from kind. You had experienced relationships that weren't built on love or trust, just lust, power, control, manipulation, and fear.

You were once with someone who made you feel like your body was something they deserved rather than something you owned. Your bound were ignored - your "no" was met with guilt tripping, anger, or silent treatment until you gave in. You learned to freeze rather than fight back because arguing led to worse outcomes. Over time, you started believing that love was something you had to earn by giving parts of yourself away.

Even after escaping that life, the scars lingered. You told yourself you were free and that no one can hurt you again, but when it comes to intimacy, your body still remembers what it felt like to be powerless.

Kisses sometimes feels like suffocating.

Touch- no matter how gentle - could make your skin crawl.

Even when your partner held you in the safest way, your mind whispered, what if they get tired of waiting? What if they leave?

You love them, but you hated yourself for feeling like this.

-Vi

● Vi had always been patient with you. She never pushes, never pressures you - just waits for you to come to her when you're ready, but she does notice this from the beginning of the relationship. How you'd tense slightly when things got to heated. How your kisses always stopped before they could get too deep. She doesn't pressure you or anything. She waits for to be ready, but what she doesn't know is that you don't think you'll ever be ready.

●Tonight is another restless night. You lie beside vi, staring at the ceiling while she sleeps, steady and warm next to you. You wish you could be at peace like that, but the weight on your chest won't let you breathe properly. You bite lips, trying to hold the tears back, but your body betrays you. A quiet sob escapes before you can stop it.

●A slight shift, then a groggy, sleep rough voice:

●"Babe?" Her voice is thick with sleep, but the concern is immediate.

●She sees you curled up, shaking. Something in her chest hurts.

●She reaches out, but the moment her hand brushes your back, you flinch. That makes her freeze.

●"Talk to me, sweetheart."

●You shake your head, hands gripping the sheets like they're the only thing keeping you together. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

●"For what?" Vi asks, brow furrowing.

●You try to explain how you want to be normal, how you hate that you pull away when she touches you, how you're afraid she'll get frustrated and walk away like everyone else did. Your voice cracks as you confess what happened in the past, how you were used, how your body never felt like yours.

●Vi listens, silent, herfists clenching under the blankets. Not at you, but at the people who did this to you. At the world that made you feel so fucking small.

●She leans in, gently tilting your chin up so you can see her eyes - so full of love and unwavering devotion.

●"You never have to apologize for this. Ever." She kisses your forehead, slow and lingering. "I don't need anything from you, okay? Just you. However you are, whenever you're ready. And if you're never ready? That's fine, too."

●Your breath hitches. "But... what if you get tired of waiting?

●Vi huffs a small laugh, but there's no humor in it - only warmth.

●"Then I'll wait longer."

●For the first time in a long time, you believe someone.

-Jinx

●Jinx sleeps like the dead usually, but tonight, something pulls her from her dreams - maybe it's instinct, maybe it's the way the bed feels too cold despite your body being right there.

●And then she hears it. Soft, muffled crying, her heart clenches.

● Jinx turns over, rubbing her eyes, then freezes when she sees you curled up, facing away from her, shoulders shaking.

●"Babe?"

●You stiffen, hurriedly wiping your face. "Sorry, I - just go back to sleep."

●Jinx isn't having it. Within seconds, she's hovering over you, pressing her forehead against the back of your head.

●"Nuh-uh, nice try. What's wrong, sugarplum?"

●You try to hold it in. You do. But the moment she snakes an arm around your waist, anchoring you to her, it all comes spilling out in broken whispers.

●Jinx listens. And for once, she doesn't joke, doesn't deflect - just holds you, silent and still, until you're done. When you finally stop, she exhales a shaky breath.

●"Damn, that's been eatin' at you this whole time, huh?" You nodded.

●Jinx is quiet for a long moment, and then she turns you into her arms, cupping your face. "Listen up, cause I ain't sayin' this twice. You? You're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me. And I don't give a shit if we ever do anything like that. I just want you, yeah?" Tears spill over again, but this time, there's relief in them.

●Jinx smirks softly, brushing a thumb over your cheek. "Now come here, lemme squeeze the sadness outta ya." She pulls you against her, tucking you under her chin, holding you like she'll never let go, Because she won't.

-Caitlyn Kirraman

●Caitlyn has always been patient, but tonight, when she wakes to the sound of your quiet sobs, her heart shatters.

●"Darling?" Her voice is soft, laced with concern. You curl in on yourself. "I- I can't do this."

●"Do what?" Caitlyn sits up, brushing her fingers over your back. "Be what you deserve." Caitlyn breath catches, "love, look at me."

●You hesitate, but finally do. And when you see her face - soft, full of love, worried - the words come pouring out.

●You tell her everything. The past, the guilt, the fear that she'll leave. Caitlyn listens, her hand gently rubbing yours.

●"I wish I could take the pain away." She says softly. "I wish I could erase every horrible thing they did to you. But since I can't... let me show you that love doesn't have to be like that."

●You choke back a sob.

●Caitlyn presses a tender kiss to your knuckles. "No matter what, I'm here. We go at your pace, always."

●Her words wrap around you like the warmest blanket. And finally, after all these years, you believe it.

[rootedinrevisions]

Too Late: Part 2

SUMMARY: After leaving, you've put some distance between you and Tyler. And Tyler has to come to terms with you being gone. But he can't let you go, and comes up with a plan to try and when you back - or at least figure out what to say to you. That is until an unexpected accident throws a wrench in both of your plans. Tyler is determined to show you that he can be there for you when you need him to, but the emotions of being around him again start to rise inside you. Memories of what you once had - and what you lost - keep pulling at you. Especially when Tyler doesn't let the space between you stop him from quietly being there when you need him most.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love and support on Part 1 of this! I was definitely not expecting this story to take off and get the reactions it did! Thank you for the comments, reblogs, and likes! This story ended up being way longer than I planned on it being and there will be a PART 3 coming soon (probably sometime next week after the holidays so I can finish up the last few holiday fics I'm working on)

WARNINGS: None, just a lot of heart-shattering angst. This one made me cry while writing it, so be prepared!

WORD COUNT: 6k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

TYLER’S P.O.V.

Tyler stood on the front porch of his old farmhouse, staring out at the horizon as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the tree line. The weight of the conversation he was preparing for sat heavy in his chest. His truck keys dangled from his fingers, his grip tightening and loosening as doubt gnawed at the edges of his determination. 

He wasn’t sure what he was going to say to you–only that he needed to say something. He couldn’t let things end the way they had, not without trying to make it right. He had so many things he still needed to say to you.

But the weight of your words, the hurt in your eyes the last time you’d spoken, kept playing on a loop in his head. Then the doubts crept in. What if he’d already blown it? What if showing up just made everything worse? 

But then he thought, what if it helped? What if it fixed everything? What if you gave him a chance?

With a final sigh, he pushed off the railing and headed for his truck. He figured you were probably at your mom’s house which wasn’t too far of a drive from his place. He pulled open the driver’s door and slid in behind the wheel. 

He had just turned the engine over when his phone buzzed in the cup holder. He glanced down and saw your best friend’s name flashing across the screen. His stomach dropped. Why would she be calling? Was it to chew him out for breaking your heart? He wouldn’t blame her if it was. Tyler hesitated, his hand hovering over the phone. He almost let it go to voicemail, but then a pang of guilt hit him. He deserved whatever lecture your friend was about to give, so he swiped to answer.

“Look,” he said, bracing himself. “I know what you’re going to say, and-”

“Tyler.” Your friend interrupted, her voice sharp but trembling slightly. His brow furrowed at the crack in her tone. “Something’s happened.”

The world seemed to tilt under his feet, Tyler clutched the steering wheel as your friend’s words came out in a rush. “It’s her mom. There was a car accident. Her mom’s in surgery right now. She…she’s at the hospital by herself, and-”

“Wait,” Tyler cut in, his voice hardening as he processed her words. “Surgery? Is…is her mom gonna be okay?”

“They don’t know yet,” your friend admitted, her voice quieter now. “Tyler, I don’t know. It…it sounds bad. And she’s…she’s trying to be strong, but you know how she gets. She’s telling us all that she’s fine, but I don’t think she is.”

Tyler stayed silent, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. His pulse pounded in his ears as the reality of the situation hit him. Your mom was in the hospital. You were alone. And here he was, debating whether or not he should show up.

“I think you should go.” Your friend said.

“I don’t think I’m the guy she wants to see right now,” he admitted, his voice low.

Your friend huffed, frustration creeping into her tone. “You’re exactly the guy she needs right now. Whether she realizes it or not.”

“She told me-”

“I know what she told you, Tyler.” Your friend snapped, cutting him off. “Trust me. I was there the night of her birthday when you weren’t. I know. But I also know she’s hurt and scared and stubborn as hell, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t need you. She won’t say it, but I will…get over yourself and get to the hospital. She shouldn’t be alone right now, and you know it.”

Tyler’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. He didn’t respond right away, his mind spinning with doubts and what ifs. What if showing up made things worse? What if you pushed him away again?

“Tyler.” Your friend said softly, her tone shifting. “You love her, don’t you?”

The question hit him square in the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. “Of course I do,” he murmured.

“Then prove it,” she said simply. “Be there for her.”

Your friend hung up after that, but her words lingered in his mind. Tyler sat frozen for a moment, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He could still hear your voice from the last time you’d spoken, the way it had cracked with anger and pain. The fear of making things worse clawed at him, but your friend’s voice echoed louder: Be there for her.

Tyler put the truck in drive and started making his way towards the hospital. Screw his doubts. This wasn’t about him. It was about you. And if there was even a chance you needed him, he wasn’t going to let you down again.

YOUR P.O.V.

The waiting room was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional voice paging a doctor over the intercom. You sat in the corner, hunched over with your elbows on your knees, your hands clasped tightly together. The plastic chair was uncomfortable, but you hardly noticed. Your foot tapped a restless rhythm against the tiled floor, the nervous energy pulsing through you too much to contain.

You’d sent everyone away. Your best friend had tried to stay, but you insisted you didn’t need her hovering. You also told her some lie that the nurses said only immediate family could stay. Your dad had called multiple times, offering to send a neighbor or someone to sit with you until he could get there. But you told him the same thing. You didn’t need anyone there with you. You’d be fine until he could get there.

The silence was suddenly interrupted by the steady thud of boots against the linoleum floor, echoing down the hallway. You barely glanced up, expecting to see another loved one ignoring your instructions to stay away. 

Without lifting your head, you muttered, “Go home. I’m fine.”

The boots stopped. You waited for a response, but none came. Irritation flared, and you straightened slightly in your chair. 

“I said, go home,” you repeated, sharper this time.

Still nothing. Finally, you glanced up, ready to tell whoever it was to leave in no uncertain terms. 

The words caught in your throat when you saw him. Tyler stood in the doorway, his hat tucked in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed with concern, but his eyes softened when they met yours.

You swallowed hard and dropped your gaze back to your hands, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “What are you doing here?”

He hesitated for a moment before stepping into the room. “Your friend called me,” he said simply. “She told me what happened.”

You let out a shaky breath, your hands tightening in your lap. 

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You don’t have to be here. You can leave.”

Tyler didn’t respond immediately. The silence stretched between you, heavy and unrelenting. Finally, you glanced up to see that he hadn’t moved an inch. His expression was unreadable, but there was a steadiness in his gaze that made your chest ache.

“Go home, Tyler,” you said again, this time with more force.

He didn’t budge. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying you. “When you can look me in the eye and tell me you’re okay without lying,” he said, his voice steady and calm, “I’ll leave. Until then, I’m staying right here.”

The breath hitched in your throat, and you quickly looked away, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. You couldn’t meet his gaze. Not when he saw right through the mask you’d been wearing all day.

Your eyes landed on the brown bag in his hand. The logo was instantly recognizable, and despite everything, a flicker of confusion crossed your face. 

“What’s that?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

Tyler glanced down at the bag as if just remembering it. He crossed the room, closing the distance between you, and held it out.

“Figured you hadn’t eaten today,” he said simply. “It’s well past supper, and you need food. Stopped by your favorite place and got you your usual.”

You blinked at him, the unexpected gesture catching you off guard. For a moment, you just stared at the bag in his hand, unsure whether to take it.

When you didn’t move, Tyler set it down gently on the chair beside you and crouched down so he was at eye level. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice low and soft. “Just eat something, okay?”

The tears you’d been holding back all day finally broke free, and you quickly turned your head, pressing the heel of your hand against your eyes. Tyler didn’t say anything, didn’t try to touch you or pry. He just stayed there, steady and calm, his quiet presence more comforting than you wanted to admit.

You didn’t have the energy to fight him anymore, so you reached for the bag, the smell of your favorite meal filling the room as you opened it. It was still warm, the familiar scent wrapping around you like a blanket.

You managed to eat about half of the food Tyler had brought before your stomach protested. Setting the container back into the bag, you folded it shut with deliberate care, focusing on the crinkle of the paper as a distraction. You still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but you muttered a quiet, “Thank you.”

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his gaze on you, steady and unrelenting. The silence stretched again, broken only by the distant murmur of hospital staff and the faint beeping of monitors from somewhere down the hall.

After a few moments, Tyler cleared his throat, the sound startling in the stillness. “Do you have any updates?” he asked, his voice low but careful, as if afraid of pushing too hard. “Have you heard how she’s doing?”

Your throat tightened, and you shook your head without looking up. You couldn’t speak—not without your voice breaking. You clenched your hands in your lap, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to keep the tears at bay.

Tyler’s eyes softened as he watched you, the effort you were putting into holding yourself together painfully clear. He saw the slight tremble in your hands, the way your shoulders hunched as if carrying the weight of the world. 

He couldn’t stand it anymore. Without a word, he stood from the chair across the room and moved to the one beside you. You didn’t look at him, but you noticed the shift, and felt the heat of his presence closer now.

You glanced sideways as Tyler settled into the chair, his broad frame filling the space beside you. He didn’t say anything, but he opened his arm, leaving it resting on the back of the chair as he leaned slightly toward you. It wasn’t an overt gesture—just enough to let you know it was there, an unspoken invitation.

You hesitated, your breath hitching as you looked at the open space he was offering. A part of you wanted to retreat, to keep the wall between you firmly in place. But the ache in your chest—the one you’d been fighting all day—finally won out.

Slowly, you leaned over, your weight shifting until your head rested against his chest. His arm closed gently around you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. He didn’t pull you in too tightly, giving you the space to move if you wanted, but the warmth and steadiness of him made you feel like the world might stop spinning just for a moment.

The steady beat of his heart was soothing against your ear, a rhythm that felt like home in a way you couldn’t bring yourself to think too much about right now. You closed your eyes, your shoulders sagging as the tension slowly began to leave your body.

Tyler didn’t speak. He didn’t ask any more questions or try to fill the silence. He just sat there, holding you as the tears you’d been holding back slipped quietly down your cheeks. And for the first time that day, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t completely alone.

The quiet warmth of Tyler’s presence, combined with the emotional toll of the day, eventually caught up to you. Your breathing slowed as you sank deeper against his chest, the exhaustion overtaking your attempts to stay awake. Tyler glanced down at you and realized you’d fallen asleep, your face relaxed for the first time since he’d arrived.

He didn’t move. He stayed as still as he could, not wanting to disturb you. His arm remained firmly around you, holding you steady as your head rose and fell gently with the rhythm of his breathing. 

Tyler rested his head back against the wall, his free hand rubbing tiredly at his face. He stared at the sterile ceiling tiles above, his mind racing with a mix of relief and guilt. He was here, and you were letting him be here, but he couldn’t help thinking about all the times before when he hadn’t been.

Nearly two hours passed in silence, broken only by the occasional murmur of passing staff. Tyler shifted slightly, careful not to wake you. Just as he was debating whether to adjust his arm that was starting to go numb, the sound of the waiting room door opening caught his attention.

He turned his head, his gaze landing on the doctor who stepped into the room. The man was middle-aged, with a kind but tired face, his scrubs wrinkled from what must have been a long shift. Tyler straightened slightly, his movements gentle enough that you didn’t stir.

“Are you the family of (your mom’s name)?” The doctor asked, his voice soft but clear.

Tyler hesitated for a second, glancing down at you. “She is,” he said, his voice low so as not to startle you. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he shook your shoulder gently. “Hey, wake up,” he murmured.

You stirred, your brow furrowing as your eyes blinked open. For a moment, you seemed disoriented, but then you sat up quickly, your hand brushing your hair from your face as you glanced between Tyler and the doctor.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice still thick with exhaustion.

“The doctor’s here with an update about your mom,” Tyler said gently, giving you a reassuring look.

You swallowed hard and turned your attention to the doctor, your hands twisting nervously in your lap.

“Surgery went well,” the doctor said, his tone calm and steady. “She’s in recovery now. We’ll keep her here for a few days to monitor her, but she’s expected to make a full recovery.

A wave of relief hit you so hard it almost felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your lips parted as though to speak, but no words came out. Tyler’s hand moved to rest lightly on your shoulder, grounding you as the doctor continued.

“She’ll be groggy for a little while when she wakes up, but she’s stable.” The doctor reassured.

“Can I see her now?” you asked quickly, your voice trembling.

The doctor nodded but held up a hand. “Only one person can go in at a time. She needs to stay as calm as possible while she comes out of the anesthesia.”

You hesitated, glancing at Tyler for just a moment. His blue eyes softened, and he gave you a small, encouraging nod. “Go ahead,” he said quietly. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

Your heart clenched at the steadiness in his voice. Without another word, you stood, your legs shaky beneath you as you followed the doctor out of the waiting room. Before you passed through the door, you glanced back at Tyler. He was still sitting, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher—concern, affection, and maybe something deeper.

He gave you a faint smile, his eyes never leaving you as you disappeared into the hallway.

A few hours later, the hum of the hospital had settled into a quiet rhythm as the nurses moved efficiently between rooms. You had been sitting at your mom’s bedside for as long as they allowed, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slept peacefully. Relief had begun to seep into your bones, replacing the earlier tension, but exhaustion lingered, weighing heavily on you.

Eventually, a nurse came in, her smile kind but firm. “She’s stable now and will need her rest through the night. We’ll call if there are any changes, but it’s best if you go home and get some sleep too.”

You nodded, reluctant but understanding, and stood slowly, brushing your hand against your mom’s. You whispered a quiet goodbye and promised you’d be back first thing in the morning.

As you made your way back to the waiting room, you pulled your phone from your pocket. You’d been dropped off earlier and hadn’t even thought about how you’d get home. You scrolled through your contacts, landing on the name of a neighbor who’d always been quick to lend a hand. Just as you pressed the call button, Tyler’s voice interrupted you.

“I can drive you home,” he said softly, standing up from the chair where he’d been waiting.

You froze, lowering the phone from your ear. “Tyler, it’s late. You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to,” he interrupted, his voice calm but steady. “But I’d like to. If you’d let me.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. The idea of being alone in the car with him made your chest tighten. Not because you didn’t trust him—but because you weren’t sure you could handle the quiet, the possibility of him pressing you about everything that had happened between you.

Almost as if he could read your mind, Tyler raised his hands slightly in a gesture of surrender. “It’s just a ride home,” he assured you. “That’s it. No talking, no pushing. I know this isn’t the time for… everything else. I just don’t think you should be alone right now.”

His words settled over you, soft and sincere. You studied him for a moment, searching for any sign of an ulterior motive, but there was none. Just a quiet steadiness in the way he looked at you, the same steadiness that had kept you grounded all night.

Finally, you nodded, slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Okay,” you murmured. “Thank you.”

Tyler gave a small nod, grabbing his jacket from the chair and slipping it on. He didn’t say anything else, just gestured for you to follow him. 

The night air was crisp, the faint hum of insects filling the quiet as you and Tyler stepped into the dimly lit hospital parking lot. He stayed a step ahead, his boots scuffing softly against the pavement as he led the way to his truck. When you reached it, Tyler opened the passenger door, pausing to glance at you.

You climbed into the seat, the familiar scent of his truck—faintly leathery, with a trace of pine—wrapping around you like a memory. He waited until you were settled, buckling your seatbelt, before carefully shutting the door.

You watched him through the windshield as he walked around the front of the truck, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, the rumble filling the silence.

As he eased out of the parking lot, Tyler glanced over at you. “Do you want me to take you to your mom’s house or home?”

The word hung in the air between you for a beat too long. Tyler’s jaw tightened slightly, and he quickly corrected himself, his voice quieter. “I mean… my place. Do you want me to take you to my place instead?”

You turned your head to look out the window, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows across your face as the truck rolled forward. Your mom’s house would feel empty, too quiet for you to face tonight. Every room would carry the weight of her absence, the echoes of your worry. The thought of sitting there, alone with your thoughts, was unbearable.

“Can I… stay with you tonight?” you asked, your voice soft but steady.

Tyler’s hands tightened briefly on the steering wheel, but he didn’t look at you. Instead, he just nodded and turned the truck onto a familiar road, the one that led to his old farmhouse.

“Yeah,” he said simply. “Of course.”

The drive was quiet after that, neither of you saying much. The occasional hum of the truck’s tires against the road filled the silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt more like an unspoken agreement to let the quiet speak for itself, to let the exhaustion and the events of the day settle.

As the farmhouse came into view, its porch light glowing faintly in the distance, you felt your shoulders relax ever so slightly. Tyler parked the truck in the gravel drive and killed the engine, the sudden stillness almost startling.

He glanced at you, his voice low. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

Tyler unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping inside and flipping on the lights. The warm glow illuminated the familiar space, but as you stepped through the doorway, you hesitated. The house felt the same, smelled the same—like cedarwood and faint traces of whatever cologne Tyler always wore—but you didn’t.

You paused just inside, unsure if you had the right to walk through it as freely as you used to. Your feet felt rooted to the spot, and your arms wrapped around yourself almost instinctively, like a shield.

Tyler paused near the bottom of the stairs and glanced back at you, his brow furrowing slightly when he noticed your hesitation. He rubbed the back of his neck before offering a small smile.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, his voice soft. Then, after a beat, he added, “You know where everything is.”

You nodded faintly, still unsure, but before you could say anything, he gestured to the stairs. “I’m gonna run up and see if I can find you something comfortable to wear for tonight. Be right back.”

Without waiting for a response, Tyler jogged up the stairs, his boots thudding softly against the wooden steps. You stood there for a moment, listening as the sound of his footsteps faded, before finally stepping further into the house.

You found yourself drifting toward the kitchen, your fingers brushing lightly against the edges of the counters as you passed. The farmhouse kitchen had always been one of your favorite spots—it was warm, lived-in, and full of charm. But now, as you glanced around, you noticed how disheveled it was.

Dishes were piled high in the sink, crumbs scattered across the counters. A forgotten coffee mug sat near the edge of the table, and you spotted a pair of work gloves tossed haphazardly onto one of the chairs. It was clear Tyler hadn’t been keeping up with housework.

Your chest tightened slightly. He was probably just as exhausted as you were after the week you’d both had. Without really thinking, you filled the sink with warm water, adding soap until suds began to rise. You rolled up your sleeves and got to work, grabbing the first plate from the pile.

The rhythm of cleaning was soothing, your hands moving on autopilot as you scrubbed and rinsed. One dish turned into two, then three, until the pile began to shrink. You didn’t hear Tyler come back down the stairs until his voice broke through the quiet.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

Startled, you glanced over your shoulder. He was leaning against the doorframe, holding a neatly folded T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants in his hands. His expression was unreadable, but there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.

“I know,” you said softly, turning back to the sink. “I just… wanted to help.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. Tyler set the clothes down on the table and walked over, his boots clicking lightly against the tile. He reached past you and grabbed a clean dish towel, drying one of the plates you’d just washed.

The two of you worked in quiet tandem, the only sounds coming from the water and the soft clink of dishes. When the last plate was dried and put away, Tyler finally spoke again.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he repeated, his voice lower this time.

You dried your hands on the towel and glanced at him. “I know,” you said again, meeting his gaze. “But I wanted to.”

Tyler held your gaze for a long moment before nodding. He motioned toward the clothes he’d brought down. “Those should be comfortable.

You nodded, taking the clothes from the table and brushing past him, your fingers grazing his for just a moment.

Tyler held your gaze for a long moment before nodding, but instead of leaving it at that, he started to speak, his words coming out in a ramble—something you knew he only did when he was nervous.

“I, uh, was looking to see if maybe you’d left something here. You know, clothes or—just… something. But it looks like you cleared everything out when you left—”

He cut himself off abruptly, the weight of the words hanging in the air like a stone dropped into still water. You saw the flicker of regret cross his face as if he wished he could take them back.

Your chest tightened the reality of the distance between the two of you crashing back in. You forced a nod, your throat too tight to speak, and clutched the clothes tighter to your chest.

Without another word, you turned and headed toward the bathroom down the hall, your steps quick and purposeful, driven by the sudden need to put space between you and him.

You changed into the clothes Tyler had given you, silently hating how comfortable they felt. The fabric was soft and worn in all the right ways, and the faint scent of him lingering on them—woodsy, clean, and unmistakably Tyler—settled you in a way you didn’t want to admit. It felt too easy, too familiar, and you tried to shake the thought as you ran a hand over your face and took a steadying breath.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, the farmhouse was quiet, save for the faint creak of the old wood floors beneath your feet. You padded into the living room and spotted a throw pillow and blanket folded neatly on the back of the couch. Without giving it much thought, you reached for them and began to lay them out, preparing to make a bed for the night.

The sound of footsteps behind you made you pause, and you turned to find Tyler standing in the doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned against the frame. His brows furrowed slightly as he tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

You glanced at the blanket in your hands and then back at him. “I’m making a place to sleep,” you said simply, motioning toward the couch.

He shook his head almost immediately, his expression firm. “No, you’re not.”

Your brow knit in confusion. “What do you mean, no? I’m not kicking you out of your own bed, Tyler.”

Tyler’s jaw tightened briefly, but his voice was calm and steady when he spoke. “And I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

“Tyler—”

He cut you off, his tone a little more resolute this time, though still gentle. “You’re sleeping upstairs. In the bed. End of discussion.”

You frowned at him, not sure whether to feel annoyed at his stubbornness or oddly comforted by it. “And where exactly are you planning to sleep, then?”

“The couch,” he said plainly, as if it were the most obvious solution in the world.

“Tyler, that’s ridiculous—”

“It’s not,” he interrupted again, his voice softening just slightly. “You’ve had a hell of a day, and you’re not about to spend the night crammed on this couch. You need to rest, and you’re sleeping in the bed.”

You opened your mouth to argue again, but the way he was looking at you—his gaze steady and full of quiet insistence—made the words catch in your throat. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you. Finally, you exhaled, realizing there was no point in fighting him on this.

“Fine,” you muttered, reluctantly grabbing the pillow and blanket and handing them to him. “But if you wake up sore in the morning, that’s on you.”

Tyler chuckled softly, taking them from your hands. “I’ll take my chances.”

As you turned to head upstairs, you could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t look back. It wasn’t until you were settled beneath the covers, the familiar scent of the farmhouse wrapping around you, that you realized how much you’d missed the quiet comfort of this place—and, if you were being honest, him.

Downstairs, you heard the faint sound of the couch creaking as Tyler settled in, followed by the soft exhale of his breath. And for the first time in days, you felt the edges of exhaustion pulling you into sleep, knowing you weren’t alone.

The soft sounds from downstairs pulled you from your sleep, and for a moment, you lay there disoriented, the unfamiliar surroundings grounding you in a way that was both comforting and unsettling. The room was too quiet, too still, and it wasn’t until you spotted the framed photos on the wall—the ones you’d seen countless times before—that you remembered where you were. Tyler’s house. His bed.

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and the faint smell of coffee and something cooking reached you, accompanied by the faint clang of a pan. Pushing the covers off, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood, padding toward the stairs.

The kitchen came into view as you reached the bottom step, and you stopped in the doorway, momentarily caught off guard. Tyler was standing at the stove, barefoot, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt that clung to his back just enough to remind you how unfairly attractive he was. He looked so casual, so domestic, like he belonged here in this space that had always felt like home to you too. And that realization was almost too much to take, given the current mess of emotions between the two of you.

He must have heard your footsteps because he turned, a faint smile tugging at his lips when he saw you. “Morning,” he said, his voice warm and easy, like this was just another day in the life you used to share. “How’d you sleep?”

You hesitated for half a second before answering. “Fine,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. “Thanks for…everything last night.”

He just nodded, as though it were a given. “Feel free to make yourself some coffee,” he said, motioning toward the Keurig sitting on the counter.

You blinked, your gaze landing on the sleek machine that had replaced the old, battered coffee pot he’d had for years. The sight of it caught you off guard, like it was proof that time had moved on in this house even when you hadn’t been here to see it.

“I didn’t remember how you like your coffee these days,” Tyler admitted, running a hand through his hair. “With all the stuff you used to add to it, I figured I’d mess it up. But there’s still some pods and syrups in the cupboard. And I, uh—” He cleared his throat and motioned toward the fridge. “I went to the store and picked up some creamer. It’s the kind you used to like. Figured it couldn’t hurt to have it, just in case.”

Your chest tightened at his words, at the small gesture that felt far too thoughtful for what you thought you deserved right now. You opened the fridge to find the familiar bottle sitting there, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at it, trying to process the sudden wave of emotions.

“Eggs’ll be ready in a few minutes,” Tyler said, his voice pulling you back. He glanced over his shoulder at you as he stirred something in the pan. “Hope you’re hungry.”

You shut the fridge door and turned, your gaze settling on him again. He looked so at ease, so natural standing there, that it made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep your voice steady as you replied, “Yeah. I think I could eat.”

He nodded, turning his attention back to the stove, and you lingered in the doorway for a moment longer before making your way to the counter to fix your coffee. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d stepped back into a memory, even though you knew things weren’t the same anymore.

Not even close.

 You sat across from Tyler at the small wooden table, the one that had been in this kitchen for as long as you could remember. The plates between you held scrambled eggs and toast, simple but enough to ease the ache of an empty stomach. The air between you was thick with an awkwardness that neither of you seemed willing to address, and the only sounds filling the room were the soft scrape of forks against plates and the occasional clink of a glass being set back on the table.

You stared down at your plate, taking another small bite, trying to focus on the food and not the tension that was quietly suffocating the space. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. Setting your fork down, you cleared your throat softly, your voice tentative as you broke the silence.

“Thank you,” you said, your gaze lifting to meet his, though he didn’t look up right away. “For everything. For… being there for me.”

Tyler’s fork hovered over his plate for a moment before he set it down. He looked down at his plate, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “It was about time,” he murmured, his voice quiet but weighted. “About time I was there when you needed me to be.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, cutting through the delicate balance you’d been trying to maintain. You blinked, your throat tightening as you realized what he meant. He wasn’t just talking about yesterday or last night. He was thinking about all the times he hadn’t been there—your last birthday, the other moments and milestones you’d quietly endured alone. The guilt in his tone was unmistakable, and it settled heavily in your chest.

“Tyler…” you started, your voice soft, but he quickly shook his head, stopping you before you could go any further.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said firmly, finally glancing up at you. His eyes were steady, but there was a flicker of something raw in them that made your breath hitch. “It is what it is.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, cutting off any argument you might have made. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what you could even say to that.

Tyler leaned back in his chair, his expression softening slightly as he tried to steer the conversation away from the growing tension. “Once you’re done eating,” he said, his voice lighter now, though it still carried a trace of that earlier guilt, “I can take you over to your mom’s to get your car.”

You nodded, grateful for the change in subject, even if it felt like a half-hearted attempt to escape the unspoken weight between you. “Yeah, okay,” you murmured, reaching for your glass and taking a sip of water.

The silence returned, but this time it felt less oppressive. You both focused on finishing your meals, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a fragile truce. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for now.

[imaginespazzi]

Golden Hour is so so good! I love the way you’re taking the story, I’m obsessed with the way they just need each other like you write it so perfectly. And honestly it’s how they seem in real life, just so entwined.

I don’t want to ask but if you have the time and it won’t delay golden hour updates... Can you write a chaotic family Drabble of the girls teasing Azzi and Paige for essentially soft launching the last few weeks. You just write them so perfectly! Hope you’re planning to be a writer one day!

Thank you lovie <3

Do I have time? In theory no but I found about 40 minutes to cook this up (this is my way of justifying the lack of editing) and it's probably more sappy than chaotic but I hope you enjoy it anyways my love. Let me know if it lived up to what you wanted :)

Paige lets out a soft sigh as she turns the ignition off, parking her car in the team apartments parking lot. It's almost one in the morning and the tired is practically vibrating from her body but she'd been determined to get them back to school tonight in time for classes tomorrow morning. She can't help the soft smile that flitters across her face as she looks over at the passenger seat. Azzi's head is leaned against the window, mouth slightly open as she hugs Paige's sweater closer to her body like a blanket. The younger girl had managed to keep her eyes awake for about an hour, tiredly responding to her girlfriend's chatter with one-word inputs until Paige had looked over after asking a question and found Azzi completely knockd out

She had heavily debated waking her up but ultimately decided against it, knowing that it was well past the shooting guard's bedtime and as cute as she found Azzi's cranky grumbling when she was woken up, she thinks the girl probably deserved her sleep after the weekend they'd had.

The weekend.

Truthfully Paige is a little sad for the weekend to come to an end. She's going to miss the privacy of their hotel suite and she's really going to miss seeing her girlfriend all dressed up every day (even if she's not going to miss the way other people had, had the audacity to ogle at what's hers). God it had been perfect; everything Paige had wanted to be. The experience itself had been wonderful but the best part of it was that she'd gotten to live it out with her girlfriend, her person, her Azzi. Whether it was sitting next to her at the fashion shows or sitting across from her at the Liberty game, they'd been together and that's all that had mattered.

Paige knows that there's people who will look at their weekend and still use the just friends moniker; knows that until she and Azzi publicly label themselves, there'll always be people who'll be willfully ignorant of what they are. But still, this weekend -this summer really- had felt different. And maybe it's because they're a little different now but something about it had felt cathartically freeing. It makes her hopeful for what's come in the future, when they can shed this barrier of being teammates and just be who they really are to each other. She can't wait.

"Baby," Paige whispers, slightly shaking Azzi, "we're here."

The other girl let's out a groan, slinking further into herself without opening her eyes, "shhh Paige, I'm tryna sleep."

Laughing to herself, Paige lets herself out of the car before walking around to open the door to the passenger side, leaning down towards Azzi, "c'mon big head, you gotta get up so we can go to bed."

"I'm already in bed," Azzi says petulantly, eyes still closed.

"Azzi..."

"Paige.'

The blonde lets out a fond sigh, "you leave me no other choice Fudd."

"Wha-" Azzi squeals when Paige lifts her out of the car, using her waist to push the door in behind them, "oh my god Paige let me down. You're gonna drop me."

Adjusting the weight in her arms slightly, Paige smirks as she starts walking towards the apartment door, "I am way too strong to drop you."

"Oh my god the edits have gone to you head," Azzi groans dramatically, tightening her arms around the blonde's neck, "you're going to drop me and I'm going to die. I'm too young to die Paige."

"You have no faith in me," Paige guffaws, even if she's slightly struggling to get up the three steps that lead up to the door.

"Paige let me down," Azzi whines again.

"You sure about that princess?" Paige asks, a slightly devious plan forming in her mind as she finally makes into the soft fluffy mat right outside the door.

"Yes."

"Okay," Paige says with a shrug as she lets Azzi go, the younger girl falling on the rug with a slight thud.

"OW WHAT THE FUCK?"

"You asked me to let you go."

"Not like that," Azzi growls, rubbing her hips slightly as she gets up and shoves at Paige, "enjoy sleeping by yourself."

Paige's eyes widen as she watches Azzi open the apartment door and saunter towards the elevator.

"Oh hey wait, wait, wait, I'm sorry," Paige has to run to catch up to the younger girl, engulfing her from behind as she presses slobbery open mouthed kisses over every inch of her that she can touch, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't make me sleep alone."

"Ew stop," Azzi crinkles her nose, half-heartedly pushing Paige away.

"I'm sorry. Pleeeeeease," Paige begs as the two of them wait for the elevator, "besides I'm sure you can't fall asleep without me either."

"Oh you're sure are you?" Azzi teases, yawning slightly as the doors ding and open and the two of them step inside.

"I know you can't," Paige grins, nuzzling her face in the younger girl's neck as she presses the button for Paige's floor, making no attempt to press the one for hers as well, "see?"

"Shut up," Azzi blushes slightly, "it's only because I don't wanna deal with Ice in the morning."

"Sure it is," Paige sing-songs before her face morphs into something more serious and she presses her forehead against her girlfriends, "I had a really good time this weekend."

Azzi's eyes soften, "it was pretty great huh?"

"The greatest," Paige confirms, brushing their lips together, "I love you."

"I love you too."

***

Much to Azzi's chagrin -and to Paige's slight amusement though she won't dare say it- she does have to deal with Ice the next morning. And worse than that, she has to deal with KK.

"GOOD MOOOOOORNING LOVEBIRDS," a loud voice echoes way to early in the morning.

Azzi cranks one eye open about cuss somebody out when KK jumps onto their bed, tiny body creating such an impact that it has both her and Paige practically jolting up.

"Morning sunshines," KK grins happily as Ice snickers from where she's leaning against the wall, "y'all done with your world tour?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Paige asks groggily.

"What's wrong with us? US?" KK's voice is as loud as always, "y'all abandon your kids-"

"Again," Azzi says exasperatedly, "y'all aren't actually our ki-"

"EXCUSE ME?" KK recoils before turning dramatically to Ice, "did you hear that Icey? She said we're not her kids."

"That's so mean of you Azzi," Ice pouts, "you practically abandons us for a decade-"

"It was one week-"

"A DECADE! And now-" Ice fake whimpers, "and now you're saying we're not even your kids? What kind of parents even are you?"

"The kind who aren't parents?" Paige says coyly only tfor KK to throw a pillow at her face, "seriously?"

"I cannot believe this," the Wisconsinite shakes her head, "first you abandon us," she glares at the two of them in a warning to not interrupt her, "and now, when we come in here to finally spend some time with y'all, do you welcome your children with open arms? OH NO. No you don't. Instead you make us feel like you don't even love us. Y'all are SICK."

"So SICK," Ice choruses and Azzi narrows her eyes at them.

"Y'all came in here to spend time us?" she asks slowly, "really?"

"Are you accusing us of having other intentions?"

"Well-"

"Oh my god," KK jumps of the bed, fixing them with an offended stare, "can't two children just want to see their parents?"

"Not when it's the two of you."

"I CANNOT BELIEVE-"

"KK," Jana's voice interrupts from outside the door, "is it time for us to come in yet?"

Paige looks between the door and KK and Ice's caught-out face as Azzi buries her head into her hands, "what are y'all up to?"

"Fucking El-Alfy ruining the plan," KK grumbles under her breath as she steps outside and the noise of bickering echoes through Paige's door.

"When we have actual children, we're never letting these idiots babysit," Azzi says softly as she leans her head back against Paige's shoulder.

Something beautiful blooms in Paige's chest as she kisses a smile into Azzi's shoulder. It's the way Azzi says it, the way she talks about them having their own children, like it's an inevitability, like forever means each other.

"Whatever you say baby," she whispers.

"Can you guys stop being gross for one second," Ice chides from the corner, "a whole fucking weekend together and still being this sappy has got to be a crime or something."

"A crime of passion," Paige says airily, relishing the way it elicits a giggle from Azzi.

"What the fuck?" there's a look of disgust on Ice's face as she studies the two of them, "that wasn't even that funny Azzi."

"I thought it was," Azzi shrugs, smiling as she turns her head to press her lips to Paige's cheek.

"Oh my god y'all get the fuck in here," Ice calls out, "they're being sickeningly cute in here again and I feel like I'm suffocating."

Unable to help their curiosity at what shenanigans their teammates come children are up to, Paige and Azzi can't help but look towards the door. Their mouths fall open as KK and Jana wheel in one of the whiteboards from the lobby, Sarah diligently following in from behind them. On the whiteboard is a series of cutout photos of the two of them taken from the weekend. A large hand-drawn paper sign hangs right above the photos: THE PAZZI SOFT LAUNCH tm.

"Ta-da," KK and Jana flail their hands as they present the board to the two gaping girls on the bed, bowing dramatically, "we made you guys this. Isn't it amazing?"

"It was my idea," Sarah juts out her chest proudly.

"It was not. I was the one who said wouldn't it be cool if we could show them how disgustingly stupid in love they looked all weekend," Jana glares at the freshman.

"Right but it was my idea to make the poster board," Sarah defends.

"Girl boo. I'm the one who came up with the title so it was really my idea," KK chirps in.

"All three of you needa take several steps back," Ice warns, "because who was the one who actually made this whole thing?"

"Me," all 6 of them turn to the doorway to see Caroline standing there with an exasperated look on her face, "I did all the cutting and glue-"

"You were in on this?" Azzi asks, "what happened to being the sensible one?"

"I am sensible," Caroline defends herself sheepishly, "but you know I love a good arts and crafts project and you didn't see them Az. They were failing miserably-"

"WE WERE NOT!"

"YOU WERE GLUING THE PICTURES UPSIDE DOWN-"

"ONLY SARAH WAS DOING THAT."

"DON'T THROW ME UNDER THE BUS LIKE THAT."

"ALL OF Y'ALL SHUT UP," Paige bellows and Azzi immediately flinches away from her.

"Ow Paige," she whines, rubbing deftly at her hear, "that hurt my ears."

"Sorry baby," Paige coos, pulling the younger girl back in to her arms and apologetically kissing her cheek as suddenly forgets why she'd needed to yell in the first place.

"SEE," Ice cuts, "this is why we needed to make the board. Y'all are so atrociously down bad and if we have to see how sickening it is, so do you."

"I think it's kinda sweet these dumbasses have finally figured it out," Caroline says with a smile.

"Nobody asked for your opinion-" KK grumbles as Paige sulks.

"We are not dumbasses," she says indignantly,unable to help herself from smiling when Azzi kisses the pout off of her face.

"Oh my god," Sarah gags as she looks at the rest of their teammates, "do they ever stop being disgusting?"

She's met with a chorus of "no"s from the rest of the girls in the room who've had to put up with Paige and Azzi for longer than she has.

"Y'all have a lot of nerve coming into our room and then calling us out for what we do in it," Azzi scolds.

"This is NOT your room," Jana corrects.

Paige glares at her as she tightens her grip around Azzi, "don't listen to them baby. My room is your room."

"Fucking hell. Y'all are hopeless," the Egyptian groans, "I give up. Congratulations on the soft launch or whatever. We're all very happy for you."

Azzi splutters, a series of indiscernible noises waterfalling from her lips, "we did NOT soft launch."

"Really?" Ice cocks her forehead, "so this," she gestures to the whiteboard filled with incriminating pictures, "this just looks like a completely normal best-friends kinda weekend to you?"

"Yes," Azzi replies stubbornly.

"Seriously?" Jana points to a series of pictures taken of the two of them practically pressed into each other at two of the fashions shows; there's a noticeable difference in how much space there is between them and the people on their other sides in comparison to the lack of air between the two of them, "y'all sit this close to all of y'alls friends like this?"

"Of course-"

"Hey," Paige wails, "who else do you sit that close to?"

"Not the time," Azzi hisses to her girlfriend, "I'm trying to prove something."

"Prove what? That y'all look at everybody like this?" KK smirks as she points to a set of images of them basically cheesing at each other like lovesick fools.

"That doesn't count as a soft launch-"

"Baby it does look a little bit like one-"

"Shut up Paige," Azzi scowls, digging her elbow into her girlfriend's stomach, "it doesn't count because it's not like we meant to do it-"

"So what you're saying is you accidentally soft launched then?" Sarah raises an eyebrow.

"That's not- I mean-" Azzi struggles to form a coherent sentences as Paige laughs into her shoulder, "your a freshman. Shouldn't you be nicer to your upperclassmen or something?"

"AHA!" KK cheers as she high-fives Sarah "deflecting because you can't deny it. Good job freshie!"

"I AM NOT-"

"Baby," Paige says softly, barely concealing her smile captures Azzi's chin between her fingers to turn her face towards her, "let it go. They're right."

"They're not-" Azzi huffs.

"Yes they are-"

"Well they don't need to know," Azzi says petulantly as she glowers at the other occupants of the room.

Jana regards her with an amused expression, "you know we can hear you right?"

Paige sighs, annoyed at having to look away from her girlfriend as she rounds on the rest of her teammates, "alright y'all made your point. Now will you get the fuck out?"

"That is no way to talk to you children," KK says as she crosses her arms across her chest.

"Ooooh," Sarah grins, "wait does this mean I'm one of your children too?"

"For the nth time-" Azzi begins but Paige covers her mouth with her hands, not wanting to start another bickering session that would inevitable prolong her not getting alone time in bed with her girlfriend.

"We'll think about it," she tells the freshman, a little touched when it seems to make Sarah gleam with happiness, "now please," she gestures to the door.

"Kicking us out so y'all can be all mush-gushy in peach eugh," Ice scrunches her face with disgust, "at least tell us y'all got us gifts or something."

"Even if we did you're definitely not getting them now," Azzi snarls at them.

"So what you're telling me is that there's definitely gifts," Jana says excitedly, "ugh I knew y'all would come through."

"Here," Paige points to both of their suitcases parked against the wall, "how about y'all take those and go to the living room and take whatever y'all want-"

"Wait no-"

"Will you be quiet for one second," Paige pinches Azzi's arms before smiling at the younger girls in the room, "all yours guys!"

KK narrows her eyes at the blonde, "this feels like a bribe-"

"Who cares Kamorea. She's giving us expensive free shit, don't argue," Jana chides as she starts to pull KK out of the room, Sarah following excitedly behind them.

"That's kinda low of you," Ice says with a disappointed look towards both of them, "but hey," she shrugs as she begins to follows the others, "if it belongs to my parents, technically it belongs to me."

"Well played Bueckers," Caroline, the last person remaining, smile as she moves to wheel the whiteboard out with her.

"WAIT," both Paige and Azzi yell in sync before shyly looking at each other.

"You can um-" Paige licks her lips, "you can leave that. It's kinda cute."

"I lied," Caroline shakes her head but does as she's told, "you guys aren't sweet because this," she points between the two of them and the whiteboard as she begins to move backwards, "this is just sickening behavior."

"Y'all are just jealous of our love," Paige calls out, ignoring the chorus of protests that she gets in return, happy to finally have the room back to just her and Azzi.

"So," the younger girl says carefully, as she turns herself around to straddle Paige's hips.

"So," Paige whispers back, hands resting on Azzi's waist as the other girl brushes a strand of blond hair out of her face.

"I think we might have accidentally soft-launched a little bit," Azzi says shyly, nibbling at her bottom lip.

"Accidentally," Paige grins as she nuzzles their noses together.

And as the sunlight peeks in through the window and the cacophony of their teammates excitedly unpacking their presents drifts in from the living room, Paige holds Azzi closer to her chest, and she lets herself think of what it'll be like when they hard launch. On purpose, this time.

[emilys-bangs]

malleable | e.p

Tags: established relationship, fluff, mom!emily, no use of yn, reader isn't really present in this fic, halloween

Summary: Emily hates Halloween (but when her daughter asks her to dress up with her, she can't refuse).

Word count: 2.1k

If there’s anything Emily’s daughter is, it’s obsessed with Tangled. The movie plays at least three times a week on your living room TV; you and Emily have memorized the dialogue somewhere around three months ago. Now you can easily recite it in your sleep, close your eyes and clearly picture Rapunzel and Eugene’s next moves.

Despite that, your daughter still remains infatuated. Which is why Emily is only briefly surprised when Eloise drops her hand with a gasp and takes off running to the end of the costume aisle, colorful lights bursting along her sneakers as she runs to the purple dress packaged beneath a picture of the princess.

“This one!”

Emily smothers her smile as Eloise rises on the very tips of her tiptoes, her fingers wriggling impatiently as she tries to reach the costume. She falls a few inches short, and her displeasure is immediately known in the twist of her lips.

“Mommy.” She whines at her mother’s slow approach.

“Hmm,” Emily hums. “How many times have we said not to run off, Eloise? You know you can’t do that when we’re outside.” She sweeps messy bangs away from Eloise’s eyes—the exact same shade as her own.

“Sorry. Can I have it? Please?” She settles back on the soles of her feet and hugs Emily’s legs. “Please, please, Mommy.” Her mouth curls into a pleading pout.

The long repeated reprimand fades into the background. Your daughter is usually good at following it, almost always content with holding either your hand or Emily’s, so she smiles softly and lets it go this once. 

“How about we see it first, yeah sweetheart?” One of her hands goes to Eloise’s back as she grabs the costume off the shelf. Shades of purple wink up at her through the clear plastic, peeking out from beneath Rapunzel’s picture and the picture of the little girl displaying it. “Cute,” she says, absently combing her fingers through Eloise’s hair.

“Wanna see.”

Emily bends over to get closer to Eloise, letting her take the costume from her hands. “What do you think?” She murmurs, brushing her daughter’s bangs over the soft arch of her eyebrows. “Do you like it?”

“Yes!” Eloise gasps.

The palpable excitement in her voice makes the garish costume store a little more bearable. Emily smiles as she adjusts the hem of Eloise’s sweater down her stomach, having risen up in her strenuous pursuit of the costume. “Are you sure that’s the one you want? We haven’t seen many others.”

“Wanna be Rapunzel.” Eloise says firmly, nodding to herself as she hugs the dress to her chest.

“Alright, well if you’re sure,” Emily laughs, not in the least bit surprised at her five-year-old’s resoluteness. It’s something she’d gotten directly from her; Emily’s heart only expands at seeing roots of herself grow in her daughter.

“I’m sure.” Eloise drags out the word, stretching it out so it sounds like duh.

“Okay. Let me see if that’s your size.” Emily holds out her hand. With great reluctance, Eloise hands her the costume. Emily huffs out an amused laugh as she straightens, distantly wondering where her daughter got such an intense love for Halloween from. You’re mostly indifferent, and she hates it with more passion than it deserves. But your little gremlin has been talking nonstop about her costume for the past week, and after a brief debate—which Emily lost—you finally found the time to take her.

Though Emily feels two little arms wrap around her thigh, she places a hand on Eloise’s head for extra measure. Small fingers tickle her through her jeans as she rifles through the costumes, humming until she finds the proper size.

“Here it is. I think that’s about it—”

“I’m gonna be Rapunzel and you’re Mother Gospel!” Eloise announces as she steals the costume from Emily’s hands. Emily’s brows furrow.

“Gothel.”

“Garthel.”

Every time.

Emily lets it go. Instead she focuses on the more pressing issue her daughter presented. “You want me to be your evil Mommy?” She frowns at Eloise, the pout of her lips exaggerated.

Eloise is unfazed. “You’re not my evil Mommy, you’re ’punzle’s evil Mommy.” She says sagely. The circles of her eyes are wide, a shine to them that almost always ensures she’s going to get what she wants. “And I’m Rapunzel so you have to be her Mommy.” She reasons.

Emily swallows a grimace at the hopeful tone in her voice. Her distaste for Halloween peeks through her love for her daughter, the two conflicting sides clashing together as she looks down at the five-year-old expectantly tilting her chin up. 

“Honey, I don’t really like wearing costumes for Halloween.” Emily says, slowly, as if it’ll soften the blow.

Eloise frowns. “Why?”

“Uhh...” It’s not the easiest thing to explain to her toddler that she despises the holiday partly because of her inability to unsee masked unsubs everywhere. But really a huge part of it Emily doesn’t understand herself; the unrestrained chaos of it, the headache of coming up with a costume each year, and—in more recent years—swapping out the candy after her daughter has passed out. It’s more hassle than it deserves, and Emily simply doesn’t have the patience for it.

“I don’t know.” She raises her shoulders in a jerky shrug. Her words seem extra lame when Eloise tilts her head, confused. “I’m not a fan, I guess.”

“But it’s Halloween.” She whines.

“I know, bug. But you know who’d match really well with you? Your—”

“Want you to be Mother Gospel.” Eloise grumbles, interrupting before Emily can throw the role on you—like she did last year. Her eyes turn stormy dark as the disappointment settles, etching itself in delicate frown lines across her young face. The happiness of acquiring her costume dissolves into a cloud, one that starts growing gray above her head, gathering with rain that reflects in Eloise’s eyes.

Emily’s stomach turns with guilt.

“Ellie…” She chews on her lip, feeling herself crumble beneath her daughter’s gaze. But then her eyes flit to the costumes around them and her nose wrinkles, almost against her will. “We’ll talk about it at home, okay? Let’s just get your costume now, it’s almost lunch time.”

Eloise sulks. She thrusts her arms out, a frown digging between her brows. “Mommy up.” She demands, almost as if it’s punishment.

Emily finds herself smiling. “Yes, my liege.” She says playfully, lightening her tone and hoping to pull a similar smile from her daughter as she lifts her up into her arms. Emily stifles a grunt as she heaves Eloise up against her chest, a dull strain pulling the muscles of her arms taut as she secures her little girl to her body, where she always used to lay as an infant. Admittedly, Eloise is heavier than she used to be, her rapidly growing body settling more firmly against Emily’s side. But she knows these days are starting to slip from her fingers, the sand draining to the other end of the glass, so Emily grasps each opportunity she can get, regardless of the ache in her back and hip. 

Eloise still doesn’t smile back, so Emily kisses her cheek, hoping to find a dimple. “You know, you could do with being Mother Gothel yourself.” She murmurs as Eloise settles against her, the costume halfway squished between their bodies.

“She’s not a princess,” Eloise sighs heavily as she lays her head on her shoulder.

Which is definitely her only fault.

“How could I have forgotten,” Emily says, absently sweeping another kiss over Eloise’s forehead. “She’s not a princess. Does this come with a crown?” She tries to look down at the costume.

“Nu-uh.”

“Well, that won’t do. Our princess needs a crown, doesn’t she?”

“A purple crown.” Eloise agrees. 

“A purple crown,” Emily parrots. She hoists Eloise higher on her hip, forcing her eyes away from the sweet relief of the cashier and to the endless shelves of accessories. She swallows down a deep sigh and tries to think of her daughter’s happiness. “Let’s browse their selection, shall we?”

___

“It’s the best costume in the world!” Eloise gushes, her eyes bright with excitement. She trips over the word costume, switching the s and t, which strikes Emily as a little odd for a girl who can effortlessly pronounce Rapunzel. 

She laughs as she fixes the crown on Eloise’s head, silently hoping she never grows out of her endearing quirks. “It is pretty cool. Fine choice, m’lady.” She grabs Eloise’s hand and twirls her around in front of the mirror, smiling when the little girl giggles at the flare of her dress.

They spin until Eloise grows dizzy, tumbling into her mother, so Emily gently sits her down on the carpeted floor of her room. Her cheeks are flushed, the deep brown of her eyes glittering with glee. Once again her tiara tilts, slipping on her head.

“Your crown is lopsided, princess,” Emily murmurs, smiling as she fixes it. “Careful, it’s gotta be on straight.” 

Eloise giggles, the sound breathless and bright as she places her hands on Emily’s knees, scrunching the fabric of her sweatpants. “Can we put the flowers in my hair?” She asks, tilting her head up to meet Emily’s eyes. The crown jostles further.

Emily hums and leaves it, finding the task futile. “Yeah, that would be a nice touch,” she taps the tip of her finger on Eloise’s nose, “maybe we can have some daises and—”

“And your hair curly!”

“Mine?” Emily’s brows lift. “Why? I think it looks pretty like this, don’t you?” She shakes out her—admittedly flat—hair.

Eloise shakes her head no. Her eyes narrow critically; she suddenly looks so much like you that Emily’s heart warms, a more than familiar desire to take her daughter into her arms and pepper her face with kisses floating through her veins. 

“Y’cant be Mother Garthel without curly hair.” Eloise says.

The feeling dims. 

“Eloise,” Emily sighs. “Mon chou, Mommy doesn’t wanna dress up.” She shrugs meekly.

“Please? Please, please, please, Mommy. Henry’s Mommy is gonna wear a costume. And Jack’s Daddy.” Eloise’s eyes grow wider as she crawls into Emily’s lap. Emily’s arms automatically wrap around her, the walls of her resolve crumbling as Eloise burrows closer. She can feel her walls tumbling down, a weary reluctance surfacing from beneath the chipped pieces of her hatred for the holiday as Eloise’s small fingers twist into the fabric of her sweater.

Distantly, Emily thinks that she used to be stronger than this. Her will was iron clad, her mind—once made up—impossible to budge. She’s still like this, you’d argue, only she’s incapable of showing that front to her daughter. She’s putty in Eloise’s hands, bendable and soft and completely, embarrassingly pliant. Which is inconvenient. 

Still, Emily gently reminds her daughter of last year’s Halloween. The effort is half hearted at this point, the image of you and Eloise in your matching costumes fuzzy even in her own mind. When Eloise whines quietly, a sulk dragging her mouth down, it tips her over the edge.

“Want it to be you.” She says, her bottom lip starting to quiver.

Which is how Emily finds herself dressed in a red velvet dress on the 31st of October, her hair extravagantly curled and her hand held in Eloise’s. Her other arm is around your waist, her fingers absently rubbing the soft warmth of your costume.

“Thought you said you weren’t dressing up.” JJ’s brows lift, an amused glint shining in her eyes. You’re all standing on her porch, waiting for Henry to come out of the bathroom to take the kids trick or treating.

“The princess demanded it,” Emily says. Try as she might to sound annoyed, she can’t, because Eloise is beaming up at her, a wide grin on her face that displays all of her teeth. Emily smiles back, carving a dimple in her cheek that’s identical to the one in her daughter’s.

“Rapunzel can’t go as Rapunzel without Mother Gothel, right?” She winks. Eloise giggles delightedly, giving Emily a firm nod as she leans into her side.

Even with Jack next to her—dressed as Batman, with Hotch as Robin—she doesn’t let go of Emily’s hand. Her fingers are small and chilly, leeching warmth from the cocoon of her mother’s palm. The small gesture makes Emily’s heart squeeze, her body flood with warmth, and this miniscule pocket of mundanity makes Halloween well worth it.

“And what are you mean to be?” Hotch frowns, the edges of it soft and playful as he directs the question to you.

Emily turns, smothering a laugh at your defeated expression. The pale green of your onesie stands out against the setting sky, the fading rays of the sun illuminating the frog eyes on your fuzzy hood.

You sigh, low and resigned and somehow still overflowing with love.

“I’m the chameleon.”

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi

[ddejavvu]

omg part two for hotch scrolling through your ig pretty please 😭😭 like IMAGINE penelope gathering the rest of the gang so they can collectively stalk your instagram and she accidentally likes one of your pictures while lurking

Penelope isn't often scared of Hotch, because the man has a soft spot for her, and she knows it. But now he's staring at her with a stern glare, something she's not usually on the receiving end of. She shifts on her heels, strangely speechless.

"Sir? Is everything okay?"

He lets her suffer in silence for a moment longer, then gestures towards his phone face-up on the desk. It's lit up with a text notification, and she faintly recognizes the name that it's attached to.

Y/N Y/L/N: Isn't this your computer whiz?

"Open it." Hotch instructs, his voice unfailingly calm, which sets Penelope even further on edge. She reaches out with a trembling finger to tap on the notification and it opens your thread, the screen entirely consumed with a screenshot you'd taken of your instagram. Sure enough, in your notifications page is a note: baby_girl_penny_g liked your photo.

"Um," Penelope stalls, and despite her rampant creativity, she can't bring herself to fib, "Well, I- the tags were-"

"There were no hashtags," Hotch stops her in her tracks, "The only way you could have found that photo was on her profile. How long ago was that posted?"

Penelope scrolls to the bottom of the post even though she doesn't want to, and mutters "2018."

"Five years ago. Five-" Hotch steels himself before he gets too upset, pinching the slim bridge of his nose, "Garcia, did Morgan tell you about this?"

"it wasn't his fault," She pleads his case, "I could tell there was something on his mind! So I got him, like, super drunk, and we-"

"Penelope, this was none of your business." Hotch speaks over her. He doesn't like cutting her off, but he knows her, and she'll talk for hours just to try and weasel her way back into his good graces. He watches her squirm with a stern expression, hands folded on his desk while he clenches his jaw.

"I won't tell anyone else." She promises weakly, and Aaron raises a single eyebrow at her. Secret-keeping is not her forte, and they both know it.

"Okay, so-" She crumples, "I- I totally will. But Hotch, we're gonna be happy for you! I'm already happy for you, you deserve this! You deserve love, even if you try to use this job as an excuse not to find it! You found it, and you should own it."

"I purposefully did not share the status of my relationship with our team. It was meant to be private."

Penelope regains some of her boldness now, even in the face of Hotch's scowl, "Well tough shit, Hotchner! We love you, and we were all there when you lost Haley! We watched you die inside, and we deserve to watch you live again! We are part of your family, Hotch, whether you like it or not, and we're not gonna walk away just because you get snippy with us! So help me, Hotch, I will handcuff myself to you until you realize that we are here. We are here, and we love you, and we always will! You can tell us about your life, because we want to enjoy it with you."

Perhaps she shouldn't have been so forward. Perhaps she shouldn't have said the H-word, or brought up Hotch's infuriating tendency to distrust people's care for him not out of malice, but out of self-loathing. Perhaps she should have hung her head and apologized, but Penelope Garcia is headstrong, and she does not fear the tense wrath of Aaron Hotchner simply for loving him.

For a moment, she worries that she's flaunted a red cape around a bull. Reid's words echo in her mind about how it's nothing to do with the color red, and everything to do with the movement of the fabric, but now is not the time, Doctor Reid, thank you very much. She waits for him to charge, knows he'll withdraw now that she's faced him with the terror of being known, of being cared for, and she can feel her heart sink to the nearly-numb heels of her feet.

Then something in his jaw shifts, and he glances away from her, blinking.

"Thank you." He murmurs, and she thinks she may have heard him wrong.

"What?" She whispers, and he gnaws at the inside of his cheek, caving it in.

"Thank you. For being firm with me." He clarifies, "I... I'm glad that you're here."

Tears spring to her eyes and she nods vigorously, incapable of speech but overflowing with emotion. He swallows, clearing his throat, "In the future, please do not stalk my romantic partners. And... in the future, I will introduce you, so that you don't need to stalk them."

"Okay," She grins through her misty eyes, letting him steer the conversation back towards his comfort zone, "Okay, Hotch. We love you. And- and we're really happy for you, and can I please go and tell the others?"

He laughs despite himself, and doesn't bother steeling himself into composure anymore. He grins, "Fine. But leave out the details of her most recent posts, please."

"The ones where she talks about being sore in the mornings?" She fixes him with a devious grin, already making for the door intent on shouting the news from the rooftops, "I won't say it in the bullpen, 'cause Reid couldn't handle it, but I'm totally gossiping with the girls about it, Hotch."