#me ''never tried it before. i don't like it''
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Holy Ground - Chapter 3
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.
The library was supposed to be a safe space. The priestesses were supposed to be sheltered there.
A place far away from the terrors of the world. A place where they could study and learn far from the grasp of those who would harm them.
But clearly today that peace had been destroyed, Rhys reflected weakly.
Merrill was dead.
Neither Cassian or Rhys had let Gwyn see the…carnage of that, Nesta and Emerie bracketing her away from…her fellow priestesses’ corpse…and Irena…
Rhys had to keep repeating the words to himself, over and over again. Like a litany, a prayer, desperately trying to make them stick.
Irena was alive. Irena would be fine.
She would be alright, even though she looked so, so pale, deathly pale in Azriel's arms.
Irena.
Irena, who Azriel had saved around two centuries ago…
Not from the horrors of the war but from her husband.
The daughter of a merchant, married off young, to one of the richest men in the midlands…she had been raised to run an estate…had excelled at it in fact. And her husband had excelled in killing young girls.
The things he had put her through... The things he had done...
Azriel, who had found her and brought her to Velaris had been shocked that she'd stayed in one piece to be honest. Rhys had been shocked too.
And once she had been in the library…she had excelled once more.
Rhys had gotten long used to see her handwriting, not long suffering Clotho’s, fill out the sheets with expenditures and acquisitions.
She had cut the fat, made sure that the House of Wind was self sufficient, thanks to research requests being able to be submitted, thanks to patents and the gardens…
Irena had been a godssend. Literally.
Rhys wasn't quite sure how they had survived before her.
But the last fucking thing he had expected was that…her and Azriel were…mates.
Rhysand had not seen that coming in a million years
But there was no question about it.
If Irena's thoughts, an utter mess of shock and pain and grief and agony...with the only thing that ran through it the whole time was her thread to Azriel wouldn't have been a dead giveaway...then it would have been Azriel's behaviour.
Azriel who had gone on his knees next to the priestess, his hands slick with her blood and had simply clung to her. He had begged her, his voice broken.
Rhys would never forget the sound of his brother's voice, the pure desperation bleeding from every single letter. Please. We haven't had enough time. I am going to be so furious with you if you die. We may have our first fight. Don't you dare. Open your eyes. Look at me, love. You can't go. Fight.
That look on Azriel's face as he had held her close, refusing to let go as he tried to will her back from death's clutches. The words he had kept murmuring like a prayer. A desperate mantra to the Mother, the Cauldron, anyone who would listen.
Azriel was never the most expressive of them. He rarely even showed a flicker of emotion for most things. To see him lose so much control, to beg. To see tears in his eyes. None of them had ever seen him like that before, had ever even considered the possibility of him acting like that.
He was always composed. Always calm, collected, in control. To see him on his knees next to Irena, begging her not to leave as he pressed kisses to her forehead and kept telling her to stay with him…
For a moment, it had felt like he had forgotten the others even existed. That nothing had mattered except her pulse, the slight rise and fall of her chest. The only thing that had mattered to him in that moment was that she was still with him, still alive.
She was important to him. There was no question about it.
Sometime during the last few years, that Priestess had become the Shadowsinger’s whole focus.
Sometime in the past, Irena had become Azriel's whole world.
And Rhys hadn't known. Had known nothing about this.
He could feel the guilt clawing up inside him.
Rhys had had no fucking clue this was happening, right underneath his nose.
That he had never noticed that Azriel's eyes lingered on Irena…had never noticed that Azriel sought her company…hadn’t known that Azriel had spent time with her…
Rhys hadn't known. Hadn't...hadn't even thought about it.
Azriel had pulled back from them after that catastrophic solstice and Rhys had let him. Had thought that Azriel needed to lick his wounds...that maybe then he would see it Rhysand's way...but none of this happened.
Azriel had kept his anger tightly leashed, even though Rhys had gotten a taste of it every time he badgered him. But Azriel hadn’t exploded.
Instead, he had been vicious in throwing Rhysan’ own words back into his face.
There didn’t pass one day where Rhys didn’t regret that one sentence, because Azriel was clearly… furious about it.
Azriel had grown distant...cold...unfeeling. And Rhys had badgered him and got on his nerves and figured that if Azriel would just get it out of his system… but he didn't. Didn't get angry. Didn't fight. Didn't scream...Rhys would have preferred it if he did.
What wouldn't he give to have that old Azriel back, the one who actually got mad? Who didn't just accept everything with a nod and a word of acknowledgment. Who talked to Rhysand, who told him when he'd done something wrong. Who fought with him if he went too far, who made his opinion known. Who told him to his face when he was being an arrogant prick, who didn't just accept his commands with a quiet nod.
But now it made sense. Azriel hadn't fucking cared what Rhys did, what any of the did, because his priorities had been rearranged completely. As long as he could get home to his priestess...he hadn't cared.
He did all the missions Rhys had for him and then went home to the House of Wind and found one quiet corner or another to romance his mate, out of the view from everybody else.
And that was the worst part. That Rhys had been such a prick to Azriel, so wrapped up in his own worries, his own fears, that he hadn't even noticed that something had shifted so fundamentally in his brother. Had pushed him so far away.
Rhys had thought that they were simply…in a rought spot. That in a few years, Azriel would be over Elain and it would be done. But now Rhys realised that…that it wasn’t about Elain. Not really.
Rhys had never realized how deep this was, how close to the breaking point he'd taken his brother.
Deep enough that the fact that Azriel had found his mate...that was something that Azriel didn't share with any of them. Something that happy... Azriel had just kept silent.
Azriel hadn’t trusted them with the most treasured and precious thing in his life.
And that hurt. Hurt more than he could put into words.
That Azriel had found the one person who he was destined for, the only one who was perfect for him in the entire world. The one person who would love and cherish him, who would complete him, who would accept him as he was, who would understand him...and he hadn't told Rhys. Hadn't told any of them.
Azriel hadn't told anyone that he had found his mate.
Had kept that to himself for who knew how long. Just how long had it been? When had he figured out they were mated?
“Bring her to her room,” Madja said at the moment. And Rhys watched as seemingly some colour went back into Irena's cheeks, her eyes closed, her breathing still laboured…her mind filled with Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. and Safe, Safe, Safe.
“My room,” Azriel corrected, his voice fierce. The mating instincts must have gone completely haywire at that very moment, not soothed at all, even when he had pressed a kiss against her forehead moments before.
.“Your room?” Gwyn asked sharply, staring at Azriel, then at still, quiet Irena. She seemed to be utterly shell-shocked, not that Rhys could fault her.
"Gwyn," Rhys said carefully. It was best if none of them...interfered right now. This was between Azriel and his mate.
"Az, how long have the two of you..." Cassian asked, clearly having come to the same conclusion, but Rhys interrupted him. *Leave him be,* he warned their brother.
*Leave him be?! I had no idea that he and Irena are...whatever the fuck they are!*
“Two years. She’s my mate,” Azriel answered, not even looking at any of them, completely concentrated on said mate.
"Mate," Irena agreed weakly. "Mine."
"Yours," Azriel agreed, his voice hoarse, as he picked her up carefully like his mate was made out of spun glass. "Let's tuck you into bed, Love," he told her softly.
And off his spymaster went carrying the priestess that was his mate.
Rhys could just stare after them.
"Did you know?" Cassian demanded sharply.
"I had absolutely no fucking clue," Rhys admitted weakly.
He felt the guilt swirling inside him, deep and bitter and vicious. He should have known. He should have realized and supported Azriel.
But it had been Rhys who had pushed him so far away that he hadn't told him. That he didn't even think that he could tell Rhys that he had found his mate.
And it hurt. Gods, it hurt. To know that Azriel had kept something that he should have been so happy about to himself just so he wouldn't have to deal with Rhys's bullshit.
Cassian started barking orders...About a stretcher and about Merrill's body...It would be taken away and prepared for the last rites.
It wasn't often that one of the priestesses died. It wasn't...They were safe here. They were supposed to be safe here...but whatever happened in this room…
“What even happened?” Rhys asked, as he turned around to surview the carnage.
It was bad. Really bad.
“Irena went to talk to Merill, because Merrill got…angry with one of the newer acolytes…” Gwyn said, her voice shaky. “Merrill was in a bad mood because Irena forbid her newest research project.”
Her newest research project? It was well known that Merrill was brilliant. So for Irena to…
"Why did she forbid it?" Rhys asked curiously.
"It involved some form of spell crafting. Irena wanted Merrill to have supervision from a spellcrafter, because it was a language that none of us actually understood and we didn’t eve know about what kind of spell it was…Merill didn't think that was needed," Gwyn said weakly, wiping away tears. "And now look where that got us. God, how could Merrill be this stupid?"
"It wasn't stupidity, it was probably arrogance," Cassian said with a sigh. "It's dumb luck that only...that only Irena got hurt.
Rhys couldn't but agree with Cassian's assessment. It was a miracle that Irena was alive. That she'd survived when Merrill’s body was…near unrecognisable….clearly it had been closer to whatever had blown up in their faces
Merrill had probably thought she knew what she was doing, but she didn't have the skill or training to work on advanced spell work. I
rena wasn’t the type of person who would deny research on a whim either. If she believed that Merrill needed supervision then Merrill had needed supervision.
Irena was clever. And cautious.
Azriel's mate was a damn good judge of character after all.
Gods, Azriel's mate. What a thought…
The spymaster and the priestess. Rhys’ near silent brother and…and gentle, caring Irena, the beating heart of the library.
Rhys would need to wrap his mind around that in private.
“I’ll seal…this room,” Rhys said quietly. So nobody could enter. And then he would probably turn Amren loose in it, to turn around every fucking stone, so that they figured out what that spell had been that had reacted like it. The last thing they needed was for the spell to have any sort of consequences that involved Irena.
"Clotho," he greeted the priestess as she arrived, inclining his head.
What happened? she demanded, holding out her usual piece of paper.
Rhys felt his stomach churn at that question.
How the hell were they supposed to tell Clotho that not only one of the priestesses had tragically died…but one of the others was currently holed up in an Illyrian warrior's room, recovering from injuries that should have killed her, and that said Illyrian warrior was said priestess's mate, so was probably not going to leave her alone anytime soon?
And that was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to the absolute clusterfuck this whole situation was. There was nothing to do except to simply tell Clotho the truth and hope that she didn't have a breakdown.
"There was an...accident. Merrill is dead," he told her bluntly.
For a moment Clotho was just frozen in place. But he could tell that his words had hit her hard. That she was shocked, horrified, stunned beyond belief. HOW?!
And Rhys took a deep breath, trying to find a way to explain what had happened.
To explain how one of her charges had been killed in a room where she was supposed to be safe…How her own experimentation, her own research had killed her…
And how no one had even noticed that a priestess had been mated.
No...how the shadowsinger had mated to a Priestess and hadn't even thought to tell them because Rhys had acted like such as bastard to his brotherthat Azriel had actually thought it preferable to keep his mating bond a secret.
"Merill didn't listen when Irena turned down her research proposal," Gwyn said suddenly with a shaky voice. "Irena went to talk to her this afternoon, because Merill made Meera cry...It looks like the spell that she was taking apart went...haywire. Merill was killed in the backlash...Irena was hurt.”
Rhys just nodded. It was a reasonable explanation, even if it didn't cover everything that had gone on. At this point in time, he was almost more concerned about Clotho than anything else. The poor female looked ready to collapse.
I told Merill to keep away from that spellbook. We still don’t know what it even contained, Clotho agreed, even her handwriting looking shaky.
He could tell that she was in shock and grief. Could imagine how she must be feeling. Clotho protected the Priestesses with all she had. They were her flock. To lose one of her charges...There was no way that Clotho would not blame herself.
She was going to blame herself for something that wasn't her fault at all. And the thought made Rhys feel sick to his stomach.
Clotho had enough weight on her shoulders already, the last thing she needed was guilt over something that was not even her fault.
IRENA?! Clotho demanded sharply.
"Alive, if just barely," Rhys informed her, trying to push down his own guilt at the thought. "Madja is with her."
In the dormitory?
"No, in Azriel's room," Cassian said bluntly. "Apparently they have been mates for... two years.”
Clotho's head snapped around, facing Cassian, her eyes wide.
Nobody had seen that coming, not even one of Irena’s closest friends.
It seemed like both of them had kept it quiet. Azriel must have so badly wanted to protect his mate from…from him, that…
The thought made Rhys feel sick. Azriel would rather keep his mate a secret than reveal to Rhys that he had found her.
Than tell him that he had found his perfect match, that there was a female in this world that loved him above all others, who understood him, who supported him.
And it was all Rhys' own fault.
He didn't have any other thought. There was no other explanation. If a friend didn't trust him enough to confide in him that he had found his mate, it was because he had done something wrong. So wrong that Azriel hadn't felt like he could tell him.
She wanted to be with him? Clotho demanded.
"From the look of it, she was barely conscious, but still claimed him as hers. And Azriel certainly seemed to think that she would want to be with him," Rhys told Clotho.
And why wouldn't she? He was her mate. Her mate.
"He won't do anything to her," Cassian said fiercely. "She's his mate."
Rhys agreed with that. Of all the males in existence, Azriel was by far the least likely to do anything that Irena would not like. Hell, he wouldn't do anything that might make her even feel mildly uncomfortable. And if she told him to back off, he would give her as much space as she needed.
"Mor, whatever Clotho needs," he told his cousin, who had brought Madja there, who just inclined her head, seemingly shaken. "I'll seal of this room...we'll need to...figure out what to do with it," he said softly. "Clotho, whatever form of memorial you would like to hold...take all the time you need and then let me know."
Clotho looked at him sharply before nodding weakly. She probably wouldn't need his help when it came to something like this. She knew how to handle something like this. How to give her fallen a last farewell.
"I want to check on Irena," Gwyn said, her hands shaking as she crossed her arms.
Rhys nodded. That was fair. Of course Gwyn wanted to check on her friend. And at this point all anyone could really do was wait anyway. "Let me seal the room and then we can go," he said softly. "But I need to warn you, Azriel will be...overprotective," he told her. "Chances are, he won't let you get close to her at all."
"I don't have any doubt about that," Gwyn said dryly. "But she's my friend. I should at least be allowed to check on her."
***
He cleaned the blood of her skin...The shadows procured one of Irena's nightgowns. She didn't protest when he held her up and Madja pulled the soiled, ruined dress from her body...didn't even flinch away from his touch on her naked skin.
They had never gone further than some heated...kisses...further than his hands slipping under her nightgown and pressing against her soft skin. He had never wanted to push. Azriel had been willing to give her all the time in the world.
It had taken months until she had been ready for a hug…longer for a kiss. And he had waited. Gladly. He had gladly waited, because it was worth the wait. She was worth the wait.
Her marriage wasn't something that she was just going to get over, and Azriel was never ever going to push her for more than she willingly offered him.
He had never wanted to undress her under these circumstances. So he closed his eyes, and pressed a kiss to her head, not looking at all.
Irena didn't make a sound, didn't even really respond...just stared into the distance. He wasn't even sure she really noticed what was happening to her. Wasn't sure she even noticed Madja cleaning the wounds…cleaning thin, silver lines, scars of her past, mostly hidden by her clothing, but still visible.
This was also when they saw the rest of the wounds...and the fact that her bad leg was broken.
Madja bandaged it carefully, stuffing pillows underneath it to keep it elevated, wrapped the rest of her bruises and scrapes with a tincture.
Still, once she was clean, no more debris in her hair, her skin as clean as he could get it...and the new nightgown was fitted over her skin, he tugged her underneath the thick goose feather stuffed duvet and then the furs.
There was no resistance on Irena’s part. She just let him do as he pleased, let herself be maneuvered and tucked in with the patience of a parent settling a little girl into bed. She didn't say anything. Didn't protest at all, even when he curled his own large body around her smaller frame, even when his wings came around her, shielding her from the outside world.
But she didn't move to snuggle up to him either. Didn't reach for him, didn't try to press her body into his. Just...allowed him to pull her close and hold her as tightly as he wanted. Her body was limp and unmoving, the only emotion on her face a sort of...emptiness. A blank expression that...it was terrifying.
He wrapped his arms around her with a sigh, running a gentle hand through her hair with a sigh. He knew that she was in shock. That she had just survived something terrible, something traumatic. So it wasn't surprising that she wasn't really responsive at the moment, that her skin felt like ice to him and that she was shaking slightly, trembling…
But the instinct to comfort her, to protect her from everything that might hurt her was roaring in his chest. He couldn't pull away from her, even though he knew he should. Even though he knew he should just be thankful that he had her, that she was here, in his hands, breathing.
She felt so thin in his hands. So fragile. Like she might break if he didn't hold her close. And that feeling, the knowledge of how vulnerable his mate was, it was almost too much for him to bear.
“I have pain potions and a sleeping draught,” Madja said quietly.
Azriel felt his jaw clench at the mention of a sleeping draught. He wanted Irena to rest, needed her to sleep away some of the horrors, but there was also some instinct in him that revolted at the idea of making her vulnerable like that. That revolted at the thought of knocking his mate out when she couldn't protect herself.
“Is that alright, love?” He asked her softly.
She didn't answer. Didn't even stir. The only sign that she had heard his question at all was the way her fingers clenched more tightly in his shirt. The only outward sign that she even understood that he was there at all. That she could even hear him. "Love?" He asked again, his voice a gentle murmur. "Do you want the sleeping draught, love?"
“Sleep?” She repeated weakly.
“Sleep.” He promised her.
She simply opened her mouth in response, letting him pour it down her throat and swallowed.
He ran gentle fingers through her hair as the potion began to take effect. As her eyelids drooped and her limbs went loose and he could almost watch the tension leaving her body. He couldn't help but press a soft, tender kiss to the crown of her head.
Azriel couldn't put into words how good it felt to have her in his arms like this. To have her safe and protected and healing.
Madja left with the promise to be back soon…and as soon as she left there was a knock at the door. He didn’t want to deal with his brothers.
*We could bar the door, master,* the shadows offered.
Azriel considered that for a long moment. It was tempting. Really, really tempting to just let the shadows seal the door and tell everyone to fuck off. That they could deal with the rest of the world later and he could just focus on Irena for now.
He knew that he couldn't though. Knew that he couldn't keep the world away from Irena. For all that he would like to protect her from all the harm in this world and lock her away into the safety of his arms, he knew that he couldn't do that. And that Rhys would throw a fit if he didn't let them in immediately.
He sighed softly, his arms tightening around his mate. He didn't want to deal with his brothers right now. Didn't want to deal with Rhys lecturing him about his decisions. Didn't want the pity and understanding in Cassian's eyes, his careful kindness. He didn't want to have to hold up the strong facade when his brother pushed and pushed and pushed.
“Come in,” he said flatly.
Azriel sighed softly as the door was opened and his brothers entered, both looking at him with concern. There was something else in Rhys' eyes, something that he wasn't sure how to name. The High Lord had an indecipherable look on his face as he moved to come stand next to the bed.
But it was Gwyn that shouldered both Rhys and Cassian out of the way, that immediately went to Irena’s bedside.
“She’s asleep,” he warned her softly. “Madja gave her a sleeping draught.”
The Valkyrie moved in silence, but Azriel could tell that she desperately wanted to reach out and touch her friend. Could tell that there was some instinct in her to touch Irena, to comfort her, that she was fighting against. He almost felt bad for her, knowing how hard it must have been to hold back that urge to offer comfort, knowing how desperately she had to want to soothe her friend's pain.
He knew that the two of them were close. That Irena was well liked by practically every priestess…That Roslin was her very best friend, but that she also got along with seemingly everybody else, including Gwyn.
And he wanted to let her get close to his mate. He really did. But the need to keep his mate safe was too strong. Was something that he couldn't fight against. So he just pulled Irena more firmly into his chest.
His only saving grace was that Gwyn seemed to understand. Didn't even try to argue with him or demand to get close to his mate. She just stayed at a respectable distance and didn't protest when he pulled Irena closer to his chest.
He could tell that she recognized his possessive nature for what it was. Just a desperate instinct to hold and protect his mate from further harm. And she didn't argue with him.
“You are the one who gets her the tea and the cookies, aren’t you?” She asked him suddenly. “I was wondering where she got them from. They were always good but the tea has definitely gotten better the last two years.”
*See, Master?!* the shadows cooed, seemingly heaving and then coming to blanket Irena in their very presence too. *We are getting her the best tea!*
They seemed very pleased with themselves.
Azriel knew that when he wasn’t in Velaris, some of the shadows even kept Irena company through the night, cuddling themselves beneath her blankets with her. He also knew that Irena loved it.
Knew better than anyone even his shadows that those moments of comfort, those little gestures, mattered more to his mate than any large gifts ever could. Irena had never cared about large gestures, about pricy gifts, didn’t care about gifts or public displays of affection.
But those little things…she loved those little things. Loved her shadows coming to spend time with her…loved it when he gave her a back rub to ease the pain in her back, or when the shadows brought her the tea that she liked or her favourite cookies.
And Azriel…he loved giving her that. He was happy to provide each and every one of them. He would do anything for her at this point. Would bring her anything that she asked for with enthusiasm. Because he loved it when her face lit up or when she smiled when he brought her something she didn't expect to get. That was something that he would never get tired of.
Azriel would never get tired of watching her face light up with happiness at the smallest of gifts that he gave her. Would never tire of feeling those little gestures bring her even a small moment of happiness. It brought him somuch joy to see her delighted by something so small. Made something inside of him fill with warmth.
“I’ll let her sleep,” Gwyn said softly. “Tell her when she’s awake that she owes us all the gossip. None of us had a clue that the two of you were seeing each other.”
Azriel inclined his head in response, a soft grin pulling at his lips despite everything. "I'll be sure to tell her." Not that he thought that there was anything to gossip about.
Gwyn left with another smile. Which left him with his brothers.
“Az.” Cassian said with a weary sigh. ”What the fuck.”
Azriel frowned sharply, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he looked at his brother. His arms tightened around Irena unconsciously, the protective instinct coming into play.
He knew Cassian, knew all too well that his brother liked to be a pain in his ass, liked to push him further than he wanted to be pushed. "I'm not in the mood for your bullshit, Cassian," he warned his brother in a low growl. "Say whatever it is that you feel the need to say, and then get out."
He knew that he probably looked completely insane. Knew that he looked like a madman clutching onto Irena with an iron grip and growling at anyone who dared get too close. But he couldn't help it. Couldn't help the instincts that seemed to be pulling at every muscle in his body, couldn't stop the tension that was coiling tight as a spring.
“How long has… this been going on?“ Rhys asked delicately.
“Two years at next Starfall,“ Azriel answered flatly.
Cassian whistled softly at that. "Two years?!" He asked incredulously. "And you didn't think to tell us?"
Azriel's jaw clenched automatically at the words.
He had thought to tell them. Numerous times.
He had just never wanted to.
First he had wanted to let things settle and solidify before announcing it to his family and letting them come swarming in to analyse their relationship…Later…later he just hadn’t wanted to.
They were completely happy when nobody knew. Why change it?
Azriel knew that he probably should have anticipated this reaction. Probably should have expected his brothers to be confused and annoyed, probably should have anticipated them wanting to know more. But he just hadn't wanted to deal with the questions and inquiries and curiosity and judgement.
So he had kept his relationship with Irena a secret.
“It was none of your business,” he said simply.
Cassian stared at him, dark eyes pained. “We are your brothers,” he said quietly.
“Quite frankly, I just didn’t want to deal with whatever opinion you cook up about us,” Azriel said flatly. His brothers were way too nosy and curious for their own good. Always had been. “We are happy. I didn’t want you to ruin that.”
They would have never respected his privacy or any boundary he had tried to set up.
He knew that Cassianwas probably annoyed that he hadn’t told him about his relationship with Irena. Knew that he was probably feeling left out and...excluded. That he was hurt that Azriel had kept this from him. But he just couldn’t find it within himself to feel any sympathy at the moment. Not when his patience was already wearing thin. Not when he could still feel the fear of almost losing Irena thrumming under his skin.
He couldn’t deal with this right now. Couldn’t handle whatever pity or lecturing his brother would give him. Just wanted to hold his mate and try to keep the fear of losing her at bay.
That fear was already too much, already consuming him and threatening to swallow him whole. The only thing that kept him sane, the only thing that kept him from falling apart was the knowledge that his mate, his Irena, was safe in his arms. And he needed to focus on that if he wanted to keep it together.
“Azriel.” Rhys’ choice was choked.
Azriel stiffened at the sound, his attention flicking to his brother automatically. There was something in Rhys’ voice, some emotion in his eyes that Azriel couldn’t quite discern right now.
He had heard his brother choked or emotional or desperate before, but this was something else. This was emotion in his brother that he had never seen before: raw, unfiltered, and painful.
The tone of Rhys’ voice, the almost anguished look in his eyes had Azriel holding his breath for a moment. Had his heartbeat picking up speed as he waited for his brother to speak.
The tension was heavy and thick as he waited, his muscles coiled tight as he waited for Rhys to speak. His whole body tense like a tightly wound spring.
“I am sorry,” Rhys whispered quietly.
Azriel stiffened slightly at that, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly. His muscles were still tense, still ready for a fight, but the raw apology in Rhys' words, the emotion in his voice...it surprised him.
It was unexpected. He had expected the anger and the hurt and the bitterness, not the raw emotion in his brother’s voice. Not the apology.
He almost couldn’t believe his ears, almost wanted to ask his brother to repeat himself. But he just stayed quiet instead, just tensed and listened and waited for his brother to continue speaking.
He couldn't even blink as he waited, as he hung on every slight movement or small change in expression on his brothers face. The tension was so thick, so heavy he could almost taste it. But he still didn't move an inch. Just waited, every muscle still as a statue as he watched his brother with an almost desperate intensity.
“I am sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t want to hurt you,” Rhys said quietly. “I…we would have been happy for you,” Rhys promised him fiercely.
Azriel felt his throat go dry at the words. The apology, the admission of his brother's intent to protect him, it was so unexpected that he almost couldn’t comprehend it. He felt some of the tension drain from his body, some of the tightness in his muscles loosening slightly.
Azriel's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he almost couldn't hear anything else over the sound. The raw emotion in his brother's voice, the sincerity in those simple words...it was overwhelming.
“You were hurt,” Rhys said softly. “I understand. But you could have come to us any time over the last two years and told us and we would have been a happy for you,” he promised him fiercely.
"Would you have really?" Azriel asked softly. "Would you really have been happy for us and not made a problem out of nothing?"
He wanted to believe his brother, truly he did. But there was still a small part of him, the small part that had been hurt and mistreated and rejected so many times before, that was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The part of him that was looking for a catch, looking for the sign that this was just another manipulation.
He didn't want to feel this way, didn't want to look for the betrayal and rejection that had been written into his very soul. But he couldn't help it. Couldn't help the small part of him that was constantly looking for the next blow, bracing for rejection and hurt.
“We would have,” Cassian said fiercely. “You found your mate, Az.”
Azriel nodded slowly.
“How did you even hide it?” Cassian demanded, crossing his arms.
“I do know how to use a sound shield,” Azriel gave back flatly.
Cassian let out a low chuckle at that, shaking his head as he grinned. "Well, you've always been more adept at keeping secrets than I am," he teased, a sly grin pulling at his lips. “ Since when do you sleep surrounded by furs by the way?” Cassian muttered.
“Irena gets cold,” he said simply.
“Wait, she spend the nights here with you?” Cassian suddenly realised.
"None of your business," Azriel replied flatly, not even trying to hide his annoyance with the nosy question. "Just focus on keeping your own mate happy, brother."
“How do you even sneak her up here?!”
"None of your business," Azriel repeated flatly. "My relationship with my mate is my own business, not yours."
He knew that he was being stubborn, that he was probably being unreasonable right now. But he couldn't help it. His emotions were too raw, too overwhelming for him to handle the intrusion into his personal life. He just wanted to focus on Irena and making sure she was okay, not on his brother's questions and prodding into the details of his relationship.
It was none of their business how he and Irena spent their time together, how they snuck around the house without being caught. That was something private, something sacred between them. And he wasn't going to share it with anyone, not even his own brothers.
He just wanted to protect that intimacy between him and his mate, wanted to keep it safely guarded from prying eyes that might not understand. He knew that his brothers cared about him, but he also knew that they could be too nosy for their own good sometimes.
“…is she aware what these furs mean?” Cassian asked him pointedly.
Was she aware that Azriel was laying claim to her with every single one of those furs that he hunted for her? Aware that he was following Illyrian tradition, regardless of how much…of how fucked up it was in many senses?
“Yes,” he said simply. Kinda. A little bit.
"So it's...serious?" Cassian asked him.
"She's my mate," he snapped back.
Cassian held up his hands in a pacifying gesture, a sheepish expression on his face.
Azriel let out a low groan, rubbing a hand over his face. "Just…leave it alone," he said tiredly. "Please. I'm not in the mood for any more questions right now."
He just wanted to be alone with Irena, wanted to hold her close and let the warmth of her body soothe his frayed nerves. He didn't want to deal with his brothers and their incessant questioning. Didn't want to talk about his relationship with Irena or how serious it was. He just wanted to be with her and that was it.
. His emotions were just too raw, too close to the surface for him to hold back. He just wanted a moment of peace, of quiet, with his mate.
He just wanted to hold her close and breathe in the scent of her skin, wanted to feel her warmth against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. He just wanted to know that she was safe, that she was still here with him. Was that really too much to ask?
He let out a long breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. He didn't want to be angry, didn't want to be frustrated. But he couldn't help it, couldn't help the surge of protective instincts that came over him every time he thought about how close he had come to losing his mate.
"If you need anything, let us know," Rhys said quietly.
Azriel stiffened at the words, his hands curling into fists at his sides automatically. He knew that Rhys was only trying to be supportive, that he was only trying to offer his help. But Azriel didn't want that. Didn't want his brother's help or sympathy. He just wanted to be left alone with his mate.
He wanted to protect her himself, to take care of her and keep her safe without his brothers' interference. He knew that Rhys only meant well, but that knowledge did nothing to calm his instincts. All he could think about was how close he had come to losing his mate, how close he had come to never seeing her again. And the thought terrified him.
It made his heart clench and his gut twist in fear and pain, his hands clenching tight as he struggled to keep his emotions under control. He didn't want to be vulnerable, didn't want to let his brothers see how much this had affected him. But he knew that it was pointless to try and hide it, that his brothers could probably see the rawness of his emotions written all over his face.
Azriel didn't try to argue with his brother, didn't try to explain himself. He just nodded.
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Oh boy okay I think my smallest / least known fave is Ambersun (formerly known as Albion, changed because of how many other bands have the same name), and I am begging everyone to listen to this band because seriously it is so good.
Summary: it's a power metal band which I think may be basically a one man show plus various guest vocalists I'm not sure, which does story-based concept albums based on different works of fiction. Possibly qualifies as Rock Operas? Anyway I love "fandom music" and this is one of my all time favorites even though two of the albums are for "I don't even go here" fandoms and the other is for a book I found through the music, because the sound is awesome, the lyrics are awesome, and you can just hear the passion put into them.
I'm now going to post a bunch of lyrics under the cut please please please listen to these songs. Actually just listen to the albums in order, this is one of those bands where the songs are already good as standalones but you really need to listen to the full album to get the full experience.
We are lost, in an endless night, the sun drained from our eyes
Gone, when we sold our lives to the plague that stole the sky
"Life Before Death," from The Poison Skies
Erased and they don't care, but you would still be here if only you'd stayed, been mine only mine
It's so unfair to leave me, the tribe I formed deceived me, but now I'll fight in your name
There's no way to hide from their stare,
I still feel their eyes everywhere
And the hatred that clouds all their minds, it hides the truth of it all
"Out In the Wilds" from The Poison Skies
The one to keep the noble name, to carry all their hopes and dreams, a future severed when one night became forever
"Run" from The Poison Skies. This. Freaking. Song. Has changed me. "Run" is a banger on its own, but reading The Afflicted and reaching the scene this song is about made it so much better and also slightly painful. Which can be said about the entirety of The Poison Skies but this song especially, because the entire song is a character high on adrenaline, deluding himself into believing he can actually pull off the promise he made to his friends that he was going to survive the badass self-sacrificing stunt he was pulling. Also I have no idea how I have not gotten a speeding ticket while playing this in the car yet.
Visions that I can't erase, every time I see her face,
She reminds me of how I never tried
Now I watch us as we fall, can't help anyone at all,
Why did I alone survive?
Survivor's Guilt!
"Survivor's Guilt" from The Poison Skies
This worthless weapon symbolizes who I am
Remaining silent, offer no resistance,
And I become the iron mask
"Disappear" from The Poison Skies
Survive one last dance through the wind and the cold,
We can't change our stories, but they still can be told
"Snow" from The Poison Skies
Sealed in cryogenic cold, I'll dive into the dark, reanimate your soul
Together we will rise up hand in hand this blackened night
"Morning" from The Day the Night Slept
I'll burn in the night, I'll light up the sky, you'll see,
And I'll be the Scorpion's Fire!
"The Scorpion's Fire" from The Day the Night Slept
Lost in the night, but still he survives
I'll tear apart time so his heart never dies
"Asriel Must Be Saved" from Buried Souls. Yes this is exactly what it sounds like from the title. A 15 minute musical fix fic about finding a way of saving Asriel Dreemur from Undertale with some sort of timeline fuckery I don't understand because I haven't played the game. And it's glorious.
Mighty wheels will turn again, flames of faith ignite
Chase the legend of the sun, and bathe our world in light
"Bring Back the Sun," currently a single release.
enough about taylor swift already. reblog and tag the smallest, least known artist you listen to
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so i wrote this yesterday and now it's become a whole thing
basically: Steve is actually smart but nobody realized it until he just fixes their various STEM related problems
anyway this is Eddie's very first experience with how smart Steve Harrington actually is
also please don't call me out if my physics explanations are wrong. just suspend your disbelief, i'm begging you lmao
also also, if you see any typos, no you didn't
---
"You're going to fail my class, Munson."
"Gee, no need to sugarcoat it," Eddie mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets and avoiding Miss Chester's gaze. His eyes land on one of the posters behind her desk, a cat hanging off a tree branch. Maybe it would like to trade places.
Miss Chester sighs, looking pointedly at the desk closest to hers. She waits until Eddie sits on it, legs hanging over the edge. "I'm serious," she says. "You're going to fail, Eddie. I don't want you to, but there's just some...disconnect happening here."
He appreciates that she's not totally blaming him. Most of Eddie's other teachers would've been berating him for his laziness by now. This, among other things, is why Eddie likes her class even if he can't wrap his head around physics at all. "I don't know, Miss. It just doesn't make sense."
"So I'm noticing." Miss Chester leans back in her chair, her finger tapping against her desk. Eddie immediately recognizes it as the drum beat from a KISS song. "You know you'll probably be held back if you fail, right?"
"Not the first time."
Miss Chester waves off his words, looking deep in thought. "What do you think about tutoring? I think you'll do better in a one-on-one setting. If you understand the concepts better, I can start grading you based on the work you do with the tutor."
"It wouldn't be you?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly. He's not sure he wants some random geek tutoring him. Not that he has anything against geeks, of course, but he's never known one to talk in a way he can understand. They get all...technical and Eddie's eyes glaze over whenever he overhears their conversations.
"No, I don't have the time. But don't worry," Miss Chester says, smiling reassuringly before pulling her roster close and looking down the list. "The student I have in mind probably knows more than me, if I'm being honest. He should be able to answer any question you have."
"What student?"
"His name is Steve."
Of course, Eddie immediately thinks of that Steve. King Steve. Steve "The Hair" Harrington with his blinding smile that's always looked a little strained in Eddie's opinion.
He then dismisses Steve Harrington as a possibility and reviews the other kids named Steve at Hawkins High. There's Steve Paulson, Steve Meyers, and Steve Barns. Maybe it's Barns? He's the only one that Eddie could imagine being somewhat good at physics.
"Are you open to tutoring?" Miss Chester asks. "For one session, at least?"
"Yeah, sure, one session. Won't help, though."
Miss Chester smiles like she knows something Eddie doesn't. Which, to be fair, she does. She knows a lot more than Eddie in terms of physics, at least. "I'll set it up. Just come by tomorrow after school."
--------
On his first day at Hawkins High, Steve realized two things.
One, his parents weren't kidding when they'd said public school would be vastly different from the private group tutoring he'd received up to that point.
Two, if he wanted to have a good high school experience, he needed to be cool. And being cool, it seemed, meant not being smart. He didn't need to be dumb, but he couldn't breeze through his classes, either.
He's done a good job of it so far. He's bored beyond reason in most of his classes, sure, but he's also popular. Nobody bothers him or tries to copy off of him, and it's great. He can even swallow down the weird surge of frustration and annoyance and guilt whenever his classmates assume he's too dumb to be a good project partner, or when his parents ask why he isn't enrolled in AP classes, or when his teachers give him confused looks after he aces tests for a unit he seemingly didn't pay attention to.
Anyway, he almost rejected Miss Chester's request to tutor a student from a different class period. He was just about to say he didn't have the time when she leveled him with a look so profoundly hopeful that he just couldn't. So, Steve said yes and now he's hesitating outside the physics classroom.
What if the student inside uses this against him? Steve thinks he could play it off, maybe convince his friends that the kid is lying, but he's not sure. Nothing dire would happen, but Steve would have to reorient himself to a new place on the social ladder, and that sounds exhausting.
"Just get it over with," he mumbles. Then, before he can chicken out and just leave the other student hanging, he opens the door and steps into the classroom.
Miss Chester isn't there. Steve knew she wouldn't be. She'd said something about a department meeting that would take her time but leave them with the classroom to themselves.
The only other person in the room is Eddie Munson, bent over a notebook and furiously scribbling on the page. He looks up when the door opens and freezes at the sight of Steve. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Eddie breaks the silence by asking, "What, get lost on your way to the locker room, Harrington?"
Steve blinks, frowns slightly, and takes a deep breath. Okay. Fine. Eddie Munson it is. "Nope. Miss Chester asked me to tutor you," he says, because that's the only reason another student would be in this room after school has let out.
Eddie laughs. He nearly falls out of his chair with how hard he laughs. He's wheezing and clutching the edges of the desk by the time Steve moves another desk to face him and sits down across from him. "Are you done, Munson?" he asks.
"Holy shit, you're serious," Eddie says, his voice slightly strained and his face red from laughing. "No fucking way Steve Harrington is here to tutor me in physics. You probably don't even know what two plus two is!"
"It's four. Do you know what 12 times 40 is?" Steve asks, watching as Eddie blinks.
"I'm not a fucking calculator, man."
"No, you're not. It's 480, by the way."
"You could've just memorized that."
Steve sighs and reaches into his bag, digging around some before pulling a calculator out. He places it on Eddie's desk and says, "Ask me something."
Eddie looks at him like he's grown a second head but still pulls the calculator closer. "1,239 plus 378."
"1,617."
He watches Eddie use the calculator, feeling smug when his face twists into confused disbelief. He then puts the calculator down and frowns at Steve. "So you can add, big whoop. Doesn't mean you can teach me shit about physics."
"Won't know until we try," Steve says, resting his elbow on the desk and propping his chin in his palm. "So, what don't you get?"
"...All of it. Just assume I don't know shit."
"You don't know Newton's laws?"
Eddie snorts, looking back down at his notebook. "There's that motion one and the reaction one," he says.
"Right. Newton's first law and his third. What about the second?"
"It's just...some equation or some shit."
Okay, Steve is starting to get an idea of where things stand. He thinks for a moment before asking, "What kind of stuff do you like?"
"What?"
"What do you like?"
Eddie looks so shocked by the question that he doesn't really think before answering, "Heavy metal. And, uh, D&D, too."
Steve knows heavy metal is music, and he could work with that but the D&D Eddie mentioned might be better. "What does it involve? The D&D?"
"It's a fantasy role playing game. Like, using your imagination to go on adventures with friends and stuff. Needs dice to work."
Oh. Perfect. "Do you have dice with you?" Steve asks. After another brief pause, Eddie nods and pulls one out of his pocket. He passes it over and watches as Steve turns it between his fingers. "Oh, an icosahedron. Cool."
"A what?"
"Icosahedron," Steve says, looking at Eddie. "It just means a twenty-sided polyhedron."
Eddie still looks confused, and Steve is about to explain it again when Eddie says, "Just call it a D20, dude."
"Oh. Sure. Anyway, let's use this," Steve says, rolling it between his fingers before letting it clatter to the desk. It bounces a few times before settling, a 17 facing up. "Do you know what made it stop moving?"
"The desk. I'm not an idiot, Harrington."
"I didn't say you were, Munson," Steve replies, leaning back slightly. "Just...yes, the desk stopped it. This is Newton's first law. If the desk wasn't there, it would have kept falling until it hit the floor. It stopped bouncing because it lost power each time it hit the desk. An object, the D20, will stay in motion, falling, unless acted upon by another force, the desk."
"That...kinda made sense," Eddie says, blinking a few times.
"Great!" Steve says, unable to help the bright smile at knowing Eddie understood him. "Okay, for the second law, the equation is mass times acceleration equals force. Basically, the movement of an object depends on how much it weighs and how much force you apply."
"Aaaand ya lost me," Eddie says.
"Okay, uh, you fight things in that game, right?"
"Yeah, kind of the whole point."
"Right, yeah, and the stuff you fight comes in different sizes, right?"
"Well, an orc isn't gonna be as big as a dragon, is it?"
Steve isn't really sure what an orc is, but he nods anyway. "Right. So if you want to move a dragon, you need to land a stronger hit than you would need for an orc."
"Duh. You're not gonna fell a dragon with a basic cantrip."
"Not sure what that is, but yeah. For this example, moving, or defeating, an object, or a dragon that weighs more than an orc, relies on how much force you apply, which is the strength you use."
"Oh. So, because an orc weighs less, I don't need as much force to defeat it," Eddie says, grinning as he fidgets with his pencil. "This doesn't really sound like math, though."
Steve shrugs. "We'll get to the math part later. Right now is basics. You need to understand those to do more complicated stuff. So, the third law, this is the action-reaction law. Music might be better for it. What happens when you strum a guitar?"
"It...makes a sound. Because it's an instrument."
"Well, yeah, but do you understand how the sound is being made."
"By...strumming it?"
"Yeah, that's part of it. Sounds are vibrations in the air that we can understand. If you touch your throat while talking, you'll feel your voice box, your larynx, vibrate to make the sound of you talking."
He waits as Eddie does exactly that. While holding his fingers to his throat, Eddie says, "Didn't know it was called a larynx. Oh, fuck, yeah, there are vibrations."
Steve nods, waiting patiently as Eddie hums for a few minutes before looking back at him. "So, vibrations. Instruments make sound because playing them causes vibrations. When you strum a guitar, the strings rapidly move back and forth, and that movement is translated into notes."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I'm following you."
"So, the action of strumming a guitar creates the reaction of the strings vibrating. That action of the strings vibrating creates the reaction of air rippling, and those ripples create the reaction of audible noise. Did that make sense?"
"Yeah. It did," Eddie says, his voice soft as he stares at Steve like he's really seeing him for the first time.
Steve shifts uncomfortably, unused to this aspect of himself being known so well by someone at school. He's almost tempted to end things now and apologize to Miss Chester for walking out halfway through a tutoring session. Steve is practicing the apology in his head when Eddie says, "Hey, by the way, sorry for earlier."
"What?" Steve asks, trying to blink away his confusion and failing.
"You know, earlier, when I laughed at you? Pretty shitty of me to do. So, yeah, I'm sorry."
"Oh." Steve stares at Eddie for a few seconds before his shoulders relax. "It's fine. I'm not exactly known for being smart."
"Why not?"
"It's just...easier to let people think I'm dumb. Most of our classmates look at me and think I'm just, you know, a typical jock. They don't expect more from me than that, and I don't expect them to look any deeper."
"Does anyone else know, though?"
"My parents and the teachers. And you."
"Well, don't worry, big boy. Your secret's safe with me."
"Big boy?"
"Don't like it? Would you prefer Stevie?" Eddie asks, grinning as he leans in and exaggeratedly waggles his eyebrows at Steve.
Steve can't help snorting at the sight. "Whatever. Just call me what you want, Eddie," he says.
He tries to ignore the weird swooping in his stomach when Eddie's smile gets wider and he says, "You better not regret it, Stevie."
#my writing#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fic#smart steve harrington#pre-season 1#y'all don't understand i have a whole 5+1 idea in my head about this#well you do understand if you read the OG post actually lmao#but there's MORE that's the point i'm making here#but i wanted this little set up first#just cuz i love pre-show meetings#and steve cutting off the munson doctrine before it can even begin#also unrelated but do y'all ever think about how the entire world really is just science and math and that's incredible#even art is science or math at its core and science and math are art themselves
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@TacklerCulers: The Chaotic Teen Serie pt. 1
fcb femení x chaoticteen!reader (first fic, be gentle with me pls i'm embarassed, also, i have no idea why i wrote that.)
17yo La Masia defender gets promoted to the first team. Will you be able to keep your fcb femení fan account hidden while slowly making your place in the team with your idols?
While you had the tendency to be known as a cheeky chaotic teen, you currently felt anxious and shaky. You had spent three years working you ass off to be recognized in the La Masia training academy, it had paid off, since you were on the way to your first training with the senior team.
You're walking to the stadium when you feel your phone buzzing in your back pocket. You picked it up, smiling at the Mapi León wallpaper you had chosen weeks ago. You knew the pings had something to do with the meme you posted on your fan account, @TacklerCulers this morning.
tacklerculers
liked by 2,486 others
tacklersculers: Ona and The Flash have never been witnessed at the same place at the same time, just saying.
—
Like you thought, the meme was doing well, attracting multiples thousands likes from other woso fans. You couldn't help but giggle at the fact that today, you'd get to meet all of the barça squad. No, it was more than that, today, you'd get to become their teammates.
You were so excited when you had made it on the training pitch, you were the first aside from some of the training staff that you had greeted. You picked up a ball and started juggling, trying to get yourself in the flow. Except this is when you had spotted them walking to you.
Alexia, the captain of the best team in the world, and Mapi Leon, the arm-tape icon —and arguably your favorite player of all time—smiling brightly at you. You were so focused on them that you kicked the ball straight to your shin. Smooth.
"Doing good, rookie?" The defender had asked you with an amused look. Though her smile faded away when Alexia elbowed her in the ribs, frowning.
The sound you had made to answer was something between a hurried yes and a cat screeching. So you nodded profusely, not trusting your voice to not betray you again.
"Don't listen to her cariño," the blond had said softly, her hand on your shoulder, and at that moment you swore you could die, your life was complete.
"Big day today, sí?" the capitain added, dragging you toward the group of players who had started arriving.
You hoped you'd be able to find you voice again soon, otherwise today would only be a long and embarrassing day.
You waved to some of the players, high fiving Patri who seemed very happy to see a fellow La Masia made kid. You couldn't help but be star struck, looking around you you saw Irene Paredes. Wall of the team. And Ingrid Engen? Technically midfield goddess but honorary defender in your books. Really what would have the team done last season without her? You couldn't help but chuckle a bit seeing Ona, remember your meme from this morning, though you tried (and failed) to hide your laugh as a cough.
But then training started, and you were definitely better at football than introducing yourself, so you gave your all. You had warmed up with Ingrid, not like Mapi didn't try to get to you before but the Norwegian had dragged you with her, leaving the Spaniard pouting. You were definitely glad for Ingrid right now, you were sure if you had had to play with your idol right away, you would have somehow tripped on your own feet.
After the warm up, the real work started. You had been doing well, holding your own as much as you could against them, trying to time your tackles well, finding your grooves in your passes. You were playing a five-a-side when the incident happened. At some point, you had tried to nutmeg Alexia on a spur of the moment thing, and had blushed furiously when you had inevitably failed —leaving only Gemma to defend the goal. Which in itself was embarrassing enough, but you had recovered quickly, decided on fixing things, you had ran for your life, and somehow managed to kick the ball away from the goal line when Alexia took her shot.
Problem?
It has landed straight on Ingrid's back, hitting her at full strength.
Ingrid stumbled forward, gasping, and Mapi who was right next to her burst out laughing. You ran to them, mortified, half screaming a busted apology.
"Already trying to get rid of me?" The dark haired woman said, chuckling while rubbing her back.
You screamed, trying to defend yourself while slightly panicking. "What?! No. Ingrid I'm so sorry, it's the ball, I didn't-" you stopped yoursel.
It's the ball? Seriously?
Ingrid raised an eyebrow at you while her girlfriend was practically rolling on the grass from laughing too much.
"I think the ball did exactly what you wanted, little devil." the Norwegian had said smirking, leaving you audibly gasping.
"I- What?" You stumbled on your words "I'm an angel I would never willingly hurt another defender!" you added, gesturing.
Mapi, who was still holding onto her belly from how much she was laughing interrupted, "An Angel? You just tried to murder Ingrid with a football.”
You whined your disagreement, unaware that most of the team had stopped their training to watch you three arguing on the sideline, most with a smile on their lips. You heard Pina laughing in the background, saying something along the lines of you perfectly fitting in already. Alexia had made her way to you. Her voice surprised you when she spoke teasingly, "Would that mean that you'd willingly hurt someone who's not a defender?" You could see on the blonde faces that it was meant as a joke. You watched, half amused half desperate, as the three women burst out laughing at the face you made.
Thankfully for you, the Norwegian did not seem to hold a grudge for the way you had attacked her with the football, leaving the training session to continue.
It was the end of the day and you were making your way to the locker room when Mapi had ran to you. She ruffled your hair, putting her arm around your shoulder when she was satisfied, "You did good today kid, looks like you might have a nice future ahead of you."
Your mouth fell open, before you started scrambling to say thank you. You just couldn't believe Mapi of all people was the one to compliment you. All the team had welcomed you with open arms, pulling you in conversation, praising you when you did well, giving you tips when you were struggling. You always knew they were good people, but witnessing it first hand was leaving you a bit emotional.
You guessed your starstruck eyes were obvious when Frido, who was passing you to sit at her locker said, "Well, no need to ask who your favourite player is, uh?" You felt your body shrink in your seat and went straight back to blushing as the team giggled. After the first moment of embarrassment, you laughed with them.
You had behave fairly well, until you were presented with the perfect opportunity by Irene, feeling like the team had a good vibe, you decided to show a bit of mischief.
"So," Irene asked curiously, "what made you decide to be a defender?"
You froze for a second, your filter failing you, before smirking. "Because defenders are the hottest."
You saw Mapi nearly choke on her water while the whole team burst out laughing. And suddenly you felt very proud of yourself. You laughed with them while kicking away your cleats.
The tattooed Spaniard had recovered from her cough, tears in her eyes, "You're a cheeky thing, aren't you?"
You smiled, wiggling your eyebrows, "I mean… am I wrong?"
"No lies detected," Ingrid chimed in with a wink, making everyone laugh harder.
You leaned back into your locker, not believing how well you were going along with the team. That's when you saw Aitana giggling and grabbing Ona by the sleeve. "Look! Someone edited you on a The Flash meme!"
Uh oh.
#mapi leon x reader#barcelona femeni x reader#fcb femení#woso#woso community#mapi leon reader#fc barcelona#fcb femeni#barcelona women#barcelona femeni#ingrid engen#ingrid engen x reader#imagine#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso fanfics#fcb femeni x reader#idk why i did that#yes i made the meme#it's funny in my head but is it really#barcelona femeni x teen reader#teen reader#platonic#mapi leon x ingrid engen#mapi leon x ingrid engen x teen reader
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I've been suicidal many times in my life, and while I could talk about those experiences, given what this post is about, I'd rather talk about something else.
My boss at my previous job was not just my boss. He was my friend, my mentor. I'd met him as a student employee; I still remember the day I went in for my interview, and I asked to speak with "Mr [name]," and the other student employee who answered the door made a face and said, "Hey, Mr [Name], this girl is here to see you" when he let me in because my boss never wanted us to be so formal with him. We were on a first-name basis with him, always. I was nineteen, and super nervous interviewing for my first job that wasn't retail or food service, but he cracked jokes and made me feel welcome. He treated all of us like that.
He was just a really good man. He always stood up for us, every time the university tried to do something that would make our lives harder or less safe. I made a Facebook status once about how I was harassed by a gas station employee near the university, and he commented telling me he'd bring his bat if I needed it. When one of the supervisors ended up overstepping boundaries in a big way with us student employees, he worked overtime to make sure that we would all be safe. When I got promoted to a supervisor position after graduation, and took it upon myself to oversea the yearly Secret Santa tradition for the students (meaning I didn't participate because otherwise I would know who my Secret Santa was), he decided he wasn't letting me go without a present and got me one anyway, despite my insistence that it wasn't necessary.
Unfortunately, he had his own demons to fight. He was going through difficult stuff in his personal life. He told me a lot about it; I was a confidant for him, and at one point he told me I was the only person he could speak to about any of it. More unfortunately still, as much as I wanted to be there for him, I was also struggling to keep my own mental health on track. It was around this time that I was looking into starting antidepressants / anti-anxiety medication for the first time because of how much I was struggling, and I was really focused on getting all of that sorted so that I could stop being tempted by the trains I heard pass by my home every night. Because of this, I didn't check in on him regularly. And so, when his boss called me one morning before my shift was supposed to start and told me that he had taken his own life, I was consumed by more than just shock and grief; I was crushed by guilt.
You see, I blamed myself. Largely because he had told me I was the only one who could confide in, I couldn't help but think that if I had checked in on him more regularly, if I had been there, this wouldn't have happened. I could have prevented it. I could have saved him. He wouldn't have taken his own life, and it wouldn't have been one of his young daughters who found him like that. Not only had I lost a friend of nine years, but I felt like I failed him.
I know now that isn't the case. There were many factors involved, not the least of which being it turns out I wasn't the only one he confided in after all. But it took me a long time to reach that point—a long time until I could honestly say that I didn't feel like it was my fault.
In the midst of depression and suicidal ideation, it can be incredibly hard to see the importance that you have in other people's lives—the place that you have there, that no one else can fill. I know this intimately, because it is something that I struggle with regularly. But even if you can't see it, you have to hold in the forefront of your mind that the importance is there. The impact will be felt. Not only do people care about you, but those closest to you will hold the weight of responsibility for your life on their shoulders for a long time. If nothing else, you don't want that for the people you care about, do you? You don't want to do that to them, do you?
You are not the only one harmed by your suicide. In fact, you're the one who will feel the impact the least. Death doesn't hurt the deceased; it only wounds the living. That's why we have funerals: it's for the sake of those left behind. But no amount of funerals or celebrations of life can assuage the pain left by a suicide. It doesn't help. Notes don't either.
If you're in a place where you're ideating, reconsider. Reach out to someone close to you. Tell them where you are, mentally, and have them come be with you. Believe me when I say that they would much rather sit awake with you all night, than wake up the next morning to a message that you're gone.
Give us the chance to be there for you. It's all we ask.
periodic reminder that your death by your own hand will wreak more havoc on the lives of those you know than you are ever capable of imagining and if you need a sign not to kill yourself this is it. people care more than you know & i am one of them
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hey how are you? could you write jinx x reader? something like jinx taking the reader's virginity. thanks ❤️🫰🏻
My favorite piltie
A/N: Hello! I am okay anon, thanks for asking! Just a bit sad that tomorrow Arcane will end😭.
I want to make it clear that I tried to do this before the next act drops, so I wrote it in two days and some things might not be very good, but I hope you will enojiy it nonetheless!!
Contains: female reader, detailed description of a wound, smut. All characters are 20+ years.
2,8 K/4 pages
When Jinx came knocking at your door tonight, you didn't think you'd end up in this position: her hands gripping at the skin of your chest and with her head buried in it.
The beginning of your night had kicked off with a strange twist when you heard a knock on your fifth floor appartment's window. You gulped down your fear and with a fast beating heart, looked past the window's glass to see a crouching figure with bright pink eyes staring at you. Any other occasion and you would have died on the spot, but you knew who she was. As soon as you opened the window, the figure let herself in, crawling out of the darkness and into the light of your room. "You are so nice letting me in, piltie" she said, and you don't miss the venom laced in the last word she spoke. "Your people aren't really known to be kind" her long fingers mess with the many little trinkets displayed on your shelves, checking their mechanisms and turning their gears.
"What do you want, Jinx?" you can feel a tingling sense of anger inside your skull at her continuous teasings.
You still remember the first time you had seen her, running from enforcers and covering her wounded shoulder.
You knew how ruthless they could be, especially since Miss Kirramman had taken control over the city. In a strange turn of events, you had found her curled up in one of Piltover's abandoned alleys and brought her with you to your home, taking care of her for the next few days until you found your window open and the blue haired criminal nowhere to be seen. During that time, you grew fond of her and were sad when she disappeared. Some weeks had passed and your life continued to flow normally, until she showed up at your door again. You were actually kind of amazed by the fact that she managed to sneak inside the appartment's building without being noticed, but after the third time, when someone called the enforcers on her, she had begun to climb on the building's exterior and knock at your window instead.
"Oh nothing, just wanted to pay a visit to my favorite piltie" she falls back on your bed, sizing you up from head to toe with that smirk of hers that makes your heart beat faster. "That's all?" the mattress dips under your weight as you sit next to her, always keeping your eyes on hers. "Mhmm, maybe" she fishes something from a bag -one you've just noticed- and shakes it: a small glass globe filled with water and fake flakes of snow. The tallest buildings of Piltover reflect the warm lights of your room, making the city of progress look ethereal under the glass. But it wasn't the shiny buildings or the snowflakes that got your attention, but a small name made with metal and gear parts glued to the bottom of the globe. "No way...is this a real Valdiani?!" the shock in your voice makes Jinx's heart flutter, something that she has never experienced before.
She lets out a proud snuff of air from her nose, pushing her chest outwards, "Consider it a gift for my fav- shit!" the sudden swear catches your attention and you look over to see Jinx doubled over. "Jinx! What is going on?!" It's faint, but you can see her hands wrapped tightly around her left side, traces of blood seeping from between her fingers. "Oh shit! Jinx what happened?" she lets out a breathless chuckle, her skin suddenly far paler than normally. "Hah, just some gift the bluebellies have given me" she sucks in a breath when you move her hands, biting a scream away. A deep wound runs along her side, pus forming where her skin had been pulled back from the slash, bleeding red on your covers. You run outside of your room and collect gauze, antiseptic, healing creme and a glass of water.
"Here, bite this" you hand her an old cloth, which she promptly places in between her teeth. "Ready?" she nods, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. The heat of your hand is the only thing that brings her comfort. She isn't ready though when you pour the liquid over her wound: it feels like billions of needles stinging and burning her flesh, making her want to vomit.
"There there, it's over..." you quickly dry her skin and massage the healing cream on her, finally finishing when you cover her stomach with the gauze. She releases a huff of relief, mindlessly tangling her fingers with yours. When the pain subsides, she realizes how close the two of you are. You on your knees, her panting and sweating, how close you are to her and how fast her heart is beating. It would take a second, just a second for her to reach for your lips and melt into you...
"Uh... I- uh, just-, what happened?" you try to not sound too shy but your voice gives your feelings away. "I..." Jinx's throat bobs and it seems that she'd rather curl herself up like a hedgehog than admitting whatever she did. "You know, the usual. Went on a walk, stormed a shop, stole some things, got the enforcers called on me and..." she gestures towards her side, "...this happened".
Jinx isn't clear with her words, but something about the blush on her skin hints at the fact that there may be something else underneath her facade. You might try at least, right? Reaching for the glass globe, you twirl it in your hands, watching the snowflakes fall on Piltover. "Jinx...did you get chased after stealing this?", she doesn't answer, but her shy silence is enough for you.
"Why? Why do this for me?" she pouts her lips before answering, still held back by some sort of pride. "W-what can I say? Anything for my favorite piltie...".
A heavy silence fills the room, of the kind that is difficult to bear.
You can't believe it. You just can't believe that she'd be so reckless, so stupid! It's difficult to bite your anger back, but you do so, and instead of crying or screaming or scolding her, like Jinx thought you were going to do, you just hug her tightly against your chest. Your grip is so strong against her that she feels like she'll choke on it.
But you are so warm in comparison to her body, so, so warm. For the first time in a while, after Silco's death, after Vi's betrayal, after everything went to shit, she feels like she can breathe. And so she does, inhaling your scent in between, tasting it on her tongue. When you pull back, Jinx's eyelids are heavy with want, her mouth slightly open and her skin red.
It takes a second for her lips to push against yours, for her hands to come up and grab your face and pull you down towards her. The kiss is surprisingly tender for it to be Jinx's: you expected teeth and tongue, not pecks and soft touches. The way she sighs and runs her hands on your chest has you keening for her. "Jinx..." a small line of spit connects your lips, and before you can say anything else, she wipes it off on your bottom lip and sighs, "You know what piltie? I think I deserve something too".
Blinking at her a couple of times, she groans at your naivety and continues while taking your cheeks in her hand. "It has been a hard day for me: running from enforcers, bleeding all the way here... I think I deserve a gift too".
And that's where you are now, naked from the waist up with Jinx on your lap, diligently taking what's hers. The way her tongue teases your nipple is something to die for. It seems all her softness has died with the kiss you shared before, now tugging and biting every part of you. You gasp as she bites your nipple, leaving the indents of her teeth on the delicate skin.
"If I knew I could see you all shy and fidgety-" she tugs your left nipple with her long fingers, smiling cruelly when tearing a gasp from you, "...I would have done this earlier". Her lips leave your right nipple, spit chilling the skin, before she teases both of them with the point of her fingernails, moving and tickling them.
Jinx lets out one of those cruel laughs of hers before diving right back on your nipple, giving it one last kiss and moving towards your stomach. She kisses and strokes every one of your scars, every mole or freckle, every inch of skin, until she comes across the hem of your pants. "N-No wait, Jinx..." you place your hand on her forehead, strands of blue hair falling in between your fingers. She halts immediatley at your discomforted voice, billions of little alarms going off in her head and an attentive yet scared look in her eyes. "What is it?".
"I... I have to tell you something" and with that, her heart beats faster and faster and that obnoxious voice inside her head speaks; 'You've hurt her' and 'Look at what you've done' and 'Did you really think she would genuinely like you?'. But your voice is stronger than theirs. "Hey? Is everything alright? We don't have to do this" in the meantime, your hand cups her cheek, thumb stroking at the pale skin. "Yeah I- I am okay. And I want to" her own fingers close in on you and she takes a moment to breathe. Your own warmth is one of the only things that can make her calm. When the voices blur away and only you and her are left, she opens her eyes again, your reflection sharp inside their pink. "What do you have to tell me?" now it was your time to take a breath, because knowing Jinx, she could have two reactions over your news: making fun of you or absolutely losing her shit. "I... I am a virgin".
She takes a moment to process the information and then lets out a wheezing laugh, making blood rise quickly to your face. "That's it?! I thought I accidentally hurt you or something!". The only thing you can do at this point is pout and look away offended. "Oh come on toots" her hands take a hold of your face before turning you to her, who is smiling softly and with tenderness. "I am just kidding. Don't be so moody. And besides..." she captures your lips, biting and licking and sucking until they darken, leaving a faint trace of blood where her teeth were, "...It's so fucking hot".
The descent to get to her prize is tedious and long, but Jinx can't help but want to savor each one of its steps. Her fingers finally hook on the hem of your pants and pull down, revealing your naked thighs to her; the only thing stopping her from claiming her prize is the fabric of your underwear. "Wait a second..." despite how cute you look to her, Jinx rolls her eyes at yet another one of your attempts to stop her. "What, toots? You don't want me to fuck you?" your eyes widen when she so bluntly says that, without an ounce of embarrassment on her face, but continue. "What?! N-no I want to....it's just that..." you eye Jinx's position on the floor. "The wound might be painful if you crouch... I don't want you to hurt yourself".
"So, what do you want me to do?". You look back between Jinx and the plush, comfortable bed, a lightbulb popping off on your head. "Lie on the bed", you say, making Jinx blink a few times before processing and understanding your intentions. "Ohh, I didn't take you for the kinky type, toots". She crawls over the bed, making sure to look as alluring as possible, then lies down with her head pressed on one of your pillows. "There. Do you like this more?" the way that she's so smug about it, with that stupid smirk of hers, makes you want to choke her to death.
"Shut the fuck up", you follow her, placing yourself on each side of her head, feeling her hands rise on your tighs to curl on the soft fabric she so wishes were to disappear. "Hmhm, alright" she eyes the patch of cloth that has begun to show a wet stain, images of what she is going to do to you already flashing in her mind. But this position prevents her from sliding them off without you having to move away from her, and she'd rather keep you and your pussy here. "You know, as much as I love how cute you look with these..." you only have a brief moment to see a malicious glint in her eyes, before she tears your underwear apart, leaving you naked in front of her "I'd much rather have you bare". "Jinx! I just told you to shut up!" it doesn't help that she doesn't mind you and whistles loudly, making you feel more and more embarrassed. "And I -shut up!-. And-and those were expensive! Do you know how-!" but all your words die in your throat when she, with a strength you didn't know she had, pulls you flat against her mouth.
She licks your clit like a starved woman, like it will be the last meal she'll ever have. She doesn't dive right in your pussy, instead takes her sweet time to torture you, making you wish she'd just fuck you already. "Jinx...please, I-" she opens her eyes to see you above her, naked and panting with pleasure, something she only ever dreamt of seeing.
She can't say no to her favorite piltie. Her cold hands grab your ass, propping you up in a new angle on her face so you can't move, but she can do everything she wants to. She spends the next minutes milking your pleasure out of you, before pushing one finger slowly inside of you. You gasp in pain at first, a small trickle of blood wetting your skin and her fingers, and after a few minutes, feeling need arise from the depths of your guts. Jinx's eyes widen when she first feels you move atop her fingers, riding them messily; and she already has a new idea. "No, none of that toots" with her left hand, she yanks your hips down on her fingers, preventing you from moving further. Her next words feel like ice cold water on naked skin; "I won't make you cum if you do it again" and as if that wasn't bad enough, she emphasizes her point with a trust of her fingers. "You will be a good girl, won't you?".
"Yes, yes, yes I will be a good girl..." her smile is all you see before she disappears underneath your thighs. As soon as you get used to the alien feeling of her fingers inside of you, her pace is unrelenting; fast and hard, torturing your clit with her lips. She takes your hips and places your slit directly onto her tongue, forcing you to grind down on it. When you start to wheeze from her touches, she decides to move onto the next phase of her plan. "Hey baby, get up a sec" you would rather keep on grinding on her tongue, but comply anyway. You get up, putting ditance between your slit and her mouth, but while you do, she directly shoves in her fingers, making your legs almost give out. With her other hand she pushes you until your ass is flat against her lap. "Come on, bounce" you don't let her repeat herself twice, already fucking yourself on her fingers at the best of your abilities. What she's seeing is far better than anything she could have ever dreamt of: her favorite piltie bouncing up and down her fingers, eyes heavy and panting above her. And your movements on her own crotch only make her feel more and more euphoric. Oh, if only she could feel you... When she curls her finger on that spot that has you keening, you finally come undone; finger intertwined, billions of stars exploding beneath your eyelids and electricity coursing through your veins. You collapse on her, skin against skin, puffing and gasping for each breath. Your whines reach Jinx's ears and right now, she wants nothing more than to tear orgasms upon orgasms from you, but she'll have to wait.
You roll over, taking a place near her on the bed, shivering from the intensity of your first time. And when Jinx, with a horrifyingly both sweet and sadistic smile turns to you, excitement clear on her face, your pussy clenches around nothing and your blood turns to ice. "So, wanna go again?"
#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x female reader#jinx arcane x reader#jinx x reader#smut oneshot#plot with smut
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Scarlet Moonlight
Vampire!Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf!reader
A/N: Just bullet points to something I might expand on. So please feel free to ask about these two because I have more than just this in mind~
-Wanda hates humans.
-Wanda is told to get a human pet by Nat.
-Wanda refuses and goes out to go find a meal.
-Wanda lets her eyes scan over the club, trying to pick the best meal
-Then she sees you, grinding up on some girl. A toothy grin. Canines are almost as sharp as hers.
-She tries to ignore you, but through everything she can hear the growl, you let out when the girl tries to leave a mark on you.
-She's next to you in an instant. A practical death grip on the drunk girl's shoulder.
-The girl runs off terrified of Wanda.
-You roll your eyes, and each of you can smell it immediately. What the other is.
-You try turning around and leaving to go find someone else to bring home.
-Wanda has made up her mind. Pulling you out of the club.
-Sure you were stronger than humans, but Vampires are stronger than werewolves in their human form.
-You find yourself in a penthouse. You're basically in the clouds. Everything smells metallic.
- “I was told to get a pet. I decided that was you.” She'd say.
-You scoffed, “Just because I'm a werewolf doesn't mean I'm a pet.” A low growl comes out.
-For weeks you fight Wanda as she holds you there captive.
-The whole time, she's sweet as you growl and bite when she gets too close
-But then it happens... your heat cycle...
-You feel like you're going absolutely mad with need.
-You try fixing the problem yourself, but it's not helping.
-Wanda even gave you heat pills to try and calm it down, but still, it didn't help
-Then it happened. She came to bring you food in the basement you were kept in, chained up.
-You got a wiff of her scent, and it wasn't that metallic smell you were used to it was what was beneath that which you hadn't noticed before; cherry blossoms.
-You grab her with a strength she hadn't seen before.
-You pull her close; flush against you and growl in her ear, "Let me do this, and you can drink."
-She agrees, and you're pulling her clothes off.
-Your member is throbbing as you slip it into her, and you are the farthest thing from gently. Luckily, a vampire can take it.
-When you knot and finish inside of her, you find yourself biting her neck, marking her as yours, something you'd never once thought about doing to someone.
-She returns the bite in kind with her own, the two fangs sinking in as you feel her drinking your blood.
-You continue rutting and whining as she drinks.
-You wake up in a bed you don't recognize, silk scarlet sheets, the room is dark with just a little light filtering through the sides of blackout curtains.
-You turn over to find Wanda there, sitting up and reading a book.
-She looks at you with a soft smile, "Feel better?" Her voice is just as soft as she reaches out.
-Her fingers are freezing but gentle as she pushes some hair behind your ears and gently scratches.
-Everything she has done with you since bringing you here has been soft and gentle.
-It has you melting, making satisfied noises as you push into her hand, your eyes closing.
#ley writes#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader#wanda maximoff x gn!reader#vampire!wanda maximoff#werewolf!reader
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Misery - Part Two
Based on Misery by Stephen King
Stuck in the mountains, you foolishly decide to drive through a blizzard. The man that drags you from your wrecked car brings you to his cabin and patches you up. But as the snow piles up outside, you start to suspect that your rescuer's intentions may be far from pure.
Previous Chapter
The thing that brought you straight from unconsciousness and howling into the world of the living was your shoulder. In the bleary haze after you crashed, you were hurting in so many places that you couldn't have focused on an individual ache even if you tried.
It wasn't until the stranger popped your arm back into place that you realised it was dislocated at all.
You woke up with your shoulder and upper back a sharp, aching mess. You also woke up screaming.
"Easy, easy there ma'am. Hush now, you can take it."
The stranger's thick drawl was right next to your ear and you turned your head to find his hands on your upper arm.
You groaned. "I'm suffering enough without being insulted."
You tried to sit up and a host of new pains made themselves very known. You slumped back with a small gasp.
"I may look rough, but I am nowhere near old enough to be a ma'am, thank you very much."
To your surprise, he laughed. And if you weren't becoming intimately aware of your pain tolerance, you would have realised what a nice laugh he had.
"Hell, if you're this lively after I gave you morphine, I'm terrified to find you sober."
The man next to you was slowly taking shape out of the halos of light that streaked your vision. Grey eyes, that was the first thing you noticed. A kind of gunmetal grey that you would have found frightening if he hadn't been smiling.
"Oh, I've never had morphine before."
If you were hurting this much after getting doped up on pain meds, a part of you was terrified about them wearing off. A smaller part of you worried terribly about how much he'd given you. The rest of you however, was succumbing to the deep sleep that banged up bodies seem to demand.
Dimly you realised the stranger had stood up and was about to walk away. You thought of your car in the snow and your body hunched over the steering wheel, blood dripping little by little onto the floorboards.
Your hand shot out with a speed you didn't think yourself capable of and grabbed his wrist. The stranger stilled and looked down at you. Tall, that was the second thing you noticed.
"Please don't leave me."
You were falling asleep against your will and your voice was cracked with pain.
He wavered and then slowly sat down in the chair next to your bed.
"Alright then, I'll be right here. So you go on back to sleep."
Kind, that was the third thing you noticed about him.
As you fell asleep, your fingers stayed wrapped around his wrist. In that isolated cabin, with the wind driving snow down the chimney and rattling the hastily put up winter shutters, former USMC Corporal Andrew Wilkes smiled for the first time in six months.
......
Waking up the second time was much slower and a whole lot less painful.
You opened your eyes to the watery light of early morning. A thousand different aches called for your attention. To start with, your left leg was a throbbing mass of low grade suffering. Everything below the knee felt stiff and bruised. No, sharper than just bruising. You would have to take a look for yourself later.
Your ribs felt tender, like you'd gone head to head with a kickboxer who harboured a very personal grudge.
Your shoulder however, was a thousand times better than last night.
You sat up slowly, the sheets rustling quietly. Your mind felt slow and groggy - it must have been the after effects of the morphine. You heard a quiet groan and froze.
The stranger was asleep on the armchair next to you, his upper body resting on the bed. You still had your hand clasped loosely around his wrist but at some point in the night he'd shifted and now his other hand was draped over yours.
His hands were nicked with a collection of little scars and his palms felt calloused with work, but they were warm and you found yourself comforted by that.
He was handsome too, with thick blond hair and a five o'clock shadow on his jaw. A raised scar carved a crescent on his cheekbone and without realising it, you reached out to touch it.
Your fingers must have been warm because he smiled just a little before he opened his eyes.
"Mornin' ma'am."
Was his voice always so deep or was it just sleep? You pulled your fingers away from his face with a jerk.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."
He sat up slowly, rubbing his jaw with his free hand. You noticed he was wearing a courdroy jacket lined with sheepskin. For some reason, you thought it suited him perfectly.
"Ain't a bother. Besides, I'd be a damn shitty medic if I slept longer than my patient."
There was a faint clinking sound and you realised he was wearing a pair of dog tags on a chain around his neck.
"I'm Andy, by the way. Andy Wilkes."
You smiled. It felt strange to just now be learning his name, after you'd spent all night clutching onto his wrist.
"Y/N."
You cleared your throat, suddenly awkward despite your drowsiness.
"Thank you, for saving me. I would have died in the snow if you hadn't rescued me."
You looked into his eyes and then quickly away. Something about that gunmetal gray made you shiver.
"I owe you my life."
He was thoughtful for a moment.
"It was pure fate that I even saw your car way down in the trees. And good luck that I know enough first aid to fix you up."
He shrugged. "It ain't me you should be thanking."
"Still, others might not have stopped for a stranger."
He raised a brow and glanced down at the hand you still had clasped around his wrist. "How about you let me go and we call it even?"
Were you blushing? It sure felt like it, with the way your cheeks suddenly tingled. You let go like he was made of lava.
"Right. Um...Sorry about that."
He shot you a small smile. "Don't be. It was...nice."
He stood up and your half unconscious observation had been right - he really was tall. He was wearing Levi's and a pair of cowboy boots. There was a dark stain down his left leg and with a start you realised it was your blood. He hadn't even changed since bringing you here.
"You were banged up pretty bad. You should have some breakfast and then I can give you more pain medication."
You nodded eagerly. Your pain had faded a little when you spoke to him but it still throbbed throughout your body.
"And uhh..." He looked away from you and rubbed at his jaw. "I'll give you some clothes to change into."
He brought you a flannel shirt and a pair of sweatpants you felt sure to drown in. He set them on your nightstand and dragged open his first aid kit.
You raised a brow at the size of the thing. In addition to the regular bandages and disinfectant, he carried hypodermic needles, sutures and a whole host of injectable ampules. Is this how he had access to morphine?
"I used to be a medic, back when I was in the Marines." He smiled at you properly for the first time. "You're in good hands, I promise."
He put his fingers under your jaw and tilted your face towards him. You flinched as peeled back the gauze above your eyebrow.
"Let's get a good look at you - how are you feeling?"
You tried to smile and couldn't find the energy.
"It hurts."
"I'd be surprised if it didn't. This cut up here was pretty bad. You were bleedin' like crazy."
He dipped a cloth into a murky white antibacterial liquid and dabbed gently at the cut. He was close enough that you could see the pulse that beat in his neck.
"I've given you a few stitches up here. They seem to be holding fine."
"Stitches? Do you think it'll scar?"
He paused. "Maybe. But you're pretty enough that a little scar ain't gonna make a difference."
Okay, this time you were definitely blushing.
He bandaged you up again and his hands trailed down to your shoulders. From the look of him, you'd expect him to have a heavy touch, but he was careful and gentle.
"Shrug, maybe move around a bit."
You managed it, despite some stiffness.
"Good. We'll need to focus on working your shoulder a little everyday. Keep you limber as the swelling goes down."
"Yes, sir."
He tensed up for just a second before he continued.
"Any bruising or cuts you think I might have missed?"
"My ribs are hurting something awful."
"Lay down."
Good god, was he a natural at giving commands. You found yourself on your back without really realizing you moved. He lifted your shirt up and you flinched at the feeling of his hands on the soft skin of your belly.
"Take a deep breath for me."
You managed it without too much of a struggle.
"Good. Looks like it's just some bruising."
You noticed the lace of your bra peaking out from under your shirt at about the same time he did. He pulled his palm away from your waist like you scalded him and yanked down your shirt with none of the clinical professionalism with which be raised it.
He cleared his throat. "It's your leg I'm worried about."
He turned away from you to bend over your right foot, but not before you caught the redness creeping across his cheeks.
Your jeans were cut open to the knee and your ankle was a bulging monstrosity wrapped in layers and layers of bandages. He kept one hand wrapped around your calf as he worked and when you flinched away, he just tightened his grip and continued.
"It looks like a very nasty sprain. Grade 2 at least. Might take a few months to heal totally. For now though, you absolutely cannot walk on it."
He looked up at you as though to emphasise his point. "Any activity for the next few weeks will just set your healing back. Not to mention hurt like a bitch."
He sounded so mean when he swore that you dropped your eyes.
He straightened up. "From the look of things, I reckon you've bruised some of the bones in your calf too. So just keep off this leg."
"Ummm." You felt stupidly bashful with his hand still on your leg. "How am I supposed to move around?"
"Hmm. I might have an old crutch lying around here somewhere. If not, I'll just have to carry you."
He said it so damn casually, as if picking you up was the easiest thing in the world. You remembered how easily he got you out of your car and realised that to him, carrying you was just as easy as hauling wood or slinging a ruck on a march. Hell, easier maybe.
You were just a little afraid of his strength.
He nodded to the clothes he left beside you. "You try and change and I'll go and get your breakfast ready."
It was only after he'd closed the door behind him that you realised - he hadn't said anything about taking you to a hospital.
Next Chapter [coming soon]
Masterlist
#yandere misery adaptation#yandere drabble#reader insert#yandere imagines#yandere noncon#yandere x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere scenarios#x reader#yandere#yandere oc
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Her Favorite - Pt 3
Billie Eilish x female reader !
A/n: this is the last part of this series I hope you all enjoyed it !! This was one of my favs to write <3
Summary: you're the teachers pet. Her. Favorite.
Warnings: smut, tension ? A small tiny argument, fingering, strap, r sucks billies tits, teasing from both parts, slight angst ??? Scissoring - let me know if I missed anything !
Tags - @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @brat-at-the-disco @iluvapplesxh @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu
Masterlist - pt 1 , pt 2
You didn't want to believe it, but she had been distant. Why? It was bugging you because all you wanted was her. Just her. And the more the time passes that's all you could think of. Her. Your God damn teacher. You could barely focus with the thought of her recently so when she had started this weird distancing. You were a bit hurt. But, you decide to try your best to ignore it. "Hey Y/n!" You hear Silvi say, approaching you. You turn to face her. "Oh hi!" You say cheerful. "Since we didn't get to hang out that one time I thought I'd invite you to this party I'm going to tomorrow night." You think for a moment.
"You know what yeah, I'd love to." She smiles and goes about her day. This couldn't hurt anyone right? That was unconvincing, you knew it'd bother someone. But then again that someone doesn't really seem to care currently. Why the hell not!
It was a Saturday and you were in her bed, things were quiet like they have been. Until she turns over and wraps her arms around you. "Sorry I haven't been that present. End of the year so it's hectic as a teacher." You look up into her eyes. Oh.. That's why, now you felt bad about going to this party. But why, you deserved to have fun. You just nod, going to kiss her cheek and sit up. "I uh, I'll just get going." Her brows furrow. "You know you can stay another night babe." You bite your lip. "Yeah but I just don't have a change of clothes here." She looks at you. "Those are fine, no?" You sigh. "I'm going somewhere."
Her head tilts with a grin. "What, no invite?" You stand up, causing her face to shift. Her features changing at your body language. "It's uhm, a school party. So it'd be a bit you know." She caught on. "Right, gotcha." Billies fear was infront of her, she didn't want to believe it. She was 9 years older than you ofcourse you needed to be around people your age. But she wondered if that was romantically too. She didn't want that, she just wanted you. "You hate parties though." It was true, you did. Then that jealousy kicks in. "Shes going to be there isn't she." You stay silent for a moment as you put your pants on, leaving her baggy t-shirt on.
You grab your keys,but she's up and out of bed. "Hey." She says when you don't respond, coming over and making you look at her. There was more silence as she finds the right thing to say. She wants to tell you to be careful and to not do this at all. But shes better than that. "Have fun ok?" You nod again, kissing one another before you leave. The kiss lingers on your lips, and you miss it. Did you even want to go to this party?
It was too late you were already there with Silvi, having a few drinks but never too much. You really didn't like parties but, you hadn't ever been to one so why fight something you haven't even tried. Laughing, talking, music. Honestly it was boring and you'd rather be spending it with Billie, in your underwear in the comfort. Eating crap, watching movies. That's all you'd want right now. But something pulled you out of that little day dream, you feel a hand on your thigh. Your senses going off, growing uncomfortable. You turn to see it was Silvi's you look at her as she must've done it subconsciously. Talking to whoever infront of her. But her next move wasn't so subconscious. Her hand slowly glides upwards making you get up from your seat.
Her face turns to you. But before anything else you go to find your way around into a room, not realizing she had followed. "Shit, I'm sorry I didn't even-" You shake your head. "It's fine. I just think I want to go home." Not think. You were certain. "You sure?" Your brows furrow slightly. Feeling uneasy. "Positive." She comes over and sits by you. "We could go soon, you got somewhere to be?" Yes. At our teachers house. "No I just, don't really want to be here." She gets closer. You felt icky. "Please just take me home." Her demeanor changes. "Fine." Your brows furrow again, what the fuck was up with her.
You were close to Billies place. "Just let me out here." She slows down. "This isn't your place." You go to open the door. "I know it's a friend's." She didn't seem to really care. Wow, Billie was right she wasn't any good. "Bye." You say closing the door, watching her zoom off. You felt gross, wanting to get in there and find some sort of comfort. You knock on the door, getting greeted by a slightly sleepy Billie. "Hey, no fun?" You shake your head, noticeably seeming down. You step in. Being greeted by the smell of her place. It was such a beautiful smell. "Something happen?" You give it a moment. "Nah, just wanted to be in comfort tonight." She sensed something was up, but going to let it be for now.
"Ok well, the beds missing you." You smile at her. "I'm missing the bed." She puts a hand over her heart. "You and my bed might as well date, you like it more than me." You giggle, shoving her lightly. She loved making you laugh or even smile. It made her feel powerful that she could make that happen, it made her heart happy to hear and see. You both get into the bed once you get out of that annoying dress. You eventually fall asleep in one another's arms.
Wednesday, Wednesday. Wednesday. Things seemed to be normal again, which you were thankful for. Today was a stripped shirt and tie day. And she looked tasty as ever. You were in a very playful mood so today you went with yet another short skirt. Her eyes land on it instantly. Giving you a look, but you just returned it with an innocent smile. The shirt you were wearing wasn't helping either. Tight. You were honestly thanking the universe that Silvi wasn't there today. You don't need some repeat of a few weeks ago. At the end of the lesson you slowly get your things, everything was so slow, intentionally so. You go over to her desk, her eyes not meeting yours just yet even though everyone's gone.
"Hi!-" "What are you wearing." Her tone was calm, knowing good and well she was far from that. "Well hello to you aswel." Your eyes roll. "And I thought you loveddd my skirts." She stands. "Why are you testing me today hm?" You shrug. "Good thing Silvi wasn't here to drool over it." You cringed slightly, remembering she was right about her. But you soon roll your eyes again. "Whatever I seriously-" But her hand was around your neck, you tense slightly but only for a moment. It was just her, you didn't need to worry. You had actually been doing that alot recently, that whole interaction had frightened you to say the least, you felt weak and out of your own control in that moment that night.
It was frightening without a doubt. "Don't test me babygirl." Her tone was full of warning, you gulp. Clenching your thighs. Her head motion down as you do, letting out a dry chuckle. "Really? You like me doing this?" Your words go. But her hand soon leaves, causing you to whine. You wanted more. She goes back over to her desk. "I'll just finish that up then we can head to mine." You had forgotten it was the end of the day. Score. You think for a moment. "Yes ma'am." She laughs a tad, shaking her head. She thought you were being silly. No, you were dead serious. So when that doesn't work you resort to your next trick. Your eyes scan her desk.
Seeing a pencil laying there, your fingers go to move it off. "Oopsies, my bad." She wasn't really paying attention, she was finishing a few things. But her head turns as shes faced with your ass. Her eyes widen as she spots the second fucked thing you did today. Her eyes look around as if someone would see. Everyone left. Her eyes return as you slowly stand up. She grabs the bottom of your skirt pulling it as much down as she could. "Are you serious?" She then says. Your head turns to her. "Whattt?" Her eyes widen again, brows furrowing tremendously. "You were sitting there. For almost an hour with nothing on!?" You giggle. "Nooo, I just took them off. But you weren't looking sooo." Her temper shines through. "Jesus fucking christ."
She's surely worked up from seeing your bare cunt on display for her. "Office. Go." You bite your lip. And boom, you got what you want. So you thought. She locks the door behind her, coming up behind you and pushing you over her desk. Causing you to bend over. "Might just tease the fuck out of you and leave you here." Your head turns to look back at her. "You wouldn't." - "Oh yeah?" Her finger makes contact with your folds. "Imagine if someone had walked in." She was still mad, making her finger retract. This was going to piss you off sooner or later. She grabs her tie, bringing it over your exposed ass.
"Out in the open like that." It travels around to your neck, she wraps it around tightening ever so slightly. "With this stupid fucking skirt." It tightens more, you gasp. But it then loosens as she grabs your wrists, tying them together. Causing you to fall further into the desk, the coolness hitting your cheek. Her hand makes contact with your hair, pushing just a tad. "Please, I'm sorry." You then plead. She chuckles maniacally. "Bad girls don't get treated nicely." You bite your lip as you think of a response. "Teach me to be good then." You say, your voice soft. It was her turn to bite her lip. "You gunna listen?" You nod. "Answer me." - "Yes, Ms O'Connell." She lets out a breath, finding the way you say it so hot.
Her hands fiddle with the belt around her waist, pulling out your favorite one of her straps. It was the second most large one she owned. And in an instant it's prodding your hole, ready for access. Your back arches, moving around to try get it in. "Don't dig your grave further." She says stilling your hips. "B-" You stop yourself. This was already bad you couldn't make things worse. Little did you know. The tip slides in, not fast enough but you keep your mouth shut. No whines, no protests no nothing. Not until she bottoms out inside you. Your mouth hangs open at the feeling. "This fucking skirt." Her fury was still evident. Very. Evident. Especially when she snaps her hips hard against you.
The stretch made your eyes squeeze shut, your legs almost doing the same but her hands make sure that doesn't happen. Your brain went into a frenzy, biting your lip so hard you draw some blood. Your tongue swipes over it, letting out a small hum. She looks at why you had done that, seeing your blood lip. She looks at it for a split second, then your eyes. The way they roll back as she's giving you backshots on her fucking desk. You were like a drug to her, she found you to be the most precious thing ever. "Gunna cum? Can feel you getting tighter." Her body leans over yours, her hands on the brown wood. Either side of your body. Her thrusts were ungodly. "Mm, yes!" You gasp as it hits your g-spot. "Found it." You moan. Cumming immediately.
She pulls out bringing you up and making you sit on the desk. Kissing your lips, tasting that same thing you tasted moments ago. Slowly pushing you back, feeling the cold desk against you. She was hovering over you, no words being said. She gets up close to you. "Maybe you should get it into your head..." Her voice low. Her hand moves to wrap around your neck her strength pulling you up and off her desk just slightly. Your eyes widen as she does. "You're mine." But you smirk, sealing the whole situation with one last kiss.
Fridays were probably your favorite, not only was it the end of the week, but you got to see your hot girlfriend. As you enter you're blinded by today's outfit. How would you ever focus. The dang glasses. The way her top fit perfectly, the long skirt. You sit down in your spot. Fixated on her cleavage. You needed to stop this was bad. Then you thought for longer. Was this pay back? Was she giving you a taste of your own medicine from the other day? Your heart skips a beat when she makes eye contact with you. Your thighs squeeze. She was so evil.
You were begging for this to be over and soon. You were also begging to suck on her t- "Y/n? You with us?" You gulp quietly, but her eyes watch your throat. She knew. "Oh, yes. Sorry." This was absolute torture. But you let out a relieved sigh when it was finally time. Everyone goes to leave as you go over to her. "Hi!" You say happily. She smirks. "Hi babygirl." That fucking nickname. "You good today?" Oh God the way she was speaking. "Yes." You knew she was asking how you were feeling, not how you would be acting for her. On your knees, obeyi- "Earth to Y/n?" Your head shakes. "Huh?" She smiles. She's got you right where she wants you. "I asked if you were ready to go my love?"
"Mhmm!" You say wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. You needed her. So bad. So when you get to hers your legs rush to her room, her slowly following. You whine at how long she's taking. "Billieee." She laughs. "Yes pumpkin?" You glare at her, getting frustrated. But you were just so needy there was no room for your bratty remarks. "Pleaseeee." You say, from your spot on the bed. She comes over, getting ontop of you. Thankfully there was a slit in the skirt so she could maneuver properly. Her hand moves over your body, moving to your soaked underwear. She hums to herself. Knowing exactly what she's upto. And glad she's succeeding.
Her finger slips past and enters you a little bit. You gasp. "Remember to breathe." ..... "Good girl." Her fingers enter you slowly. But your eyes are glued to her tits. They just looked so incredibly good in that outfit. Your hands move to touch but she grips them. "Uh uh. Since you didn't have a proper punishment the other day you need to learn your mistakes." You huff, is she serious? She can't be. You just wanted to wrap your lips around them and you wanted to do it now. "That's not fair." You mumble. Her brows raise.
"No? Not fair huh? Let's circle back to you wearing that tight, shirt and tiny tiny skirt. I had to focus on teaching, I had to refrain from fucking the living shit out of you because you indeed looked God damn hot in it. I had to wait a whole. Hour. You can't wait that, and a bit more. Can't you?" You swallow. Having no words. "Bu-" "Uh uh. Don't but me, you know good and well." You let out a moany, huff. "Come on now, don't be like that angel. You'll get what you want. You just have to work for it." You wriggle. "Ah! Lesson learned, I won't do it again." She doesn't even let your hand move to touch before she's pinning them down. "What, did I say."
And you caved, you were too far gone with need to care. "Please, Billie I'm sorry I wore such a revealing skirt like that in public, you know I won't do it again. I promise and if I break it you can do such horrible things and I'll have to take it just please. Please let me suck them." You were almost on the verge of tears, but man was she enjoying every bit of this. "You want to suck them huh?" She ponders as you nod manically. "Please, I need to so bad." She still thinks. "No wonder you were so wet." You whimper. Oh that sweet whimper. And within an instant that shirt is loose. Her tits spill out right before your eyes.
Your thighs sqish tightly as your mouth latches so fast. Closing your eyes. She bites her lip, watching you suck. Bite. Do it all. You were too far gone. Incredibly far. The way you swirld your tongue made her grunt. The feeling so good. Her hand makes its way into your hair, stroking it as you do so. "You are a good girl, shit." She breathes. But she nearly goes mental with your next words. "Mmm, mommy." Her eyes look at the headboard processing. She grabs your face, kissing you with such hunger. Your subby state makes it sloppy. Moaning into the kiss. "Say that again." She says against your lips. And as you were about to. Her finger is back in your pulsing cunt. "F-fuck! Mommy." - "Mm, good. Louder."
Her fingers speed up as you go to again. "Mommy!" It was music to her ears. If she wasn't inlove before she sure as hell is now. "Cum for me, go on." Her fingers enter deep. Making your head spin, and eyes roll back. Gushing all over her fingers. Her eyes look down, looking at the white substance. "You, my girl. Are just one sexy thing huh?" Your head rests back out of breath. "You're sexier."
Weeks pass. Things were back to how they were a few months back. Everyime something beautiful happens it gets ruined and by what? It was eating at you. Was it you? What was going on. You wanted to ask but that'd just opened room for her asking what had happened that night. She had asked the day after if you wanted to talk about it but you declined and said it wasn't important. Maybe you should've told her. You didn't want her freaking out or even saying- 'I told you so.' But when she notices your strange behavior over the last few days its making her want to know more.
The other day.
You had just woken up, making some food, when you hadn't heard her come in. You had on her t-shirt and some underwear, humming away to yourself. When a hand touches your thigh, the same thigh that she touched. You jump back, turning to look at her. She was about to apologize for giving you a fright, but then she remembered. She's done that dozens of times before. You always knew it was her and you always put your head on her shoulder. So when none of that happened she gets more confused. "You've been doing that alot recently angel, everything ok?" You're silent for a bit. "Yeah! Just didn't hear you come in." Such a lie. Even if that was true, she knew something had to be up with the way you reacted. "Okay.."
She thrusts into you slowly, it was all sweet. Everything was. The eye contact, the intimacy. Her thrusts soon speed up, wanting to get you to that bliss feeling. Loving how she always could. She was getting closer to. But everything in the room changes. She touches that sane spot on your thigh making you tense up and gasp. She hadn't noticed at first seeing as you gasp all the time. What was it with that thigh. It wasn't even because of Silvi. But for some reason she triggered it. Something happened ages ago and it was slowly coming back to you. Your hand wraps around her wrist.
Causing her attention to be on you, her brows furrow as she sees your discomfort. She would never ever want to hurt you in any way. "Too fast?" You think for a second, you had to lie you couldn't tell her what was truly bothering you. You then nod, her hand moving to your hip. Soothing any further discomfort. "Sorry babe."
She begins the lesson for today, writing on the board. After that one night things were still dry in the air. You honestly hated it, but it was probably all your fault all along. That's what you'd been telling yourself. But it wasn't all you. Billie was in fact distancing. It was the last thing that she wanted but she was falling hard for you. One half of her didn't care about the fact she was falling for someone so amazing. She loved it, and then the other half wondered if you could do better. When your in your early 30s she will be in her 40s. It didn't sound that bad but it was intense to think about. Let alone the fact she's still your teacher. Even if the year was ending for you this year, you wouldn't have to be as secret atleast.
This was her brain constantly, weighing out the pros and cons. But why should she, she knew what she felt was real despite all of that. But she cared too much about you. She just wanted you to be happy and she didn't know if that was with her. But she definitely looked good today. It made you miss how closer you were before the weird change. You hardly went over to hers anymore and it hurt. It really hurt. "Sorry I'm late." It was Silvi, she had been gone for over a month. You had no idea why. But you avert your gaze, feeling uncomfortable. Remembering that night so clearly. "That's alright, take a seat." Billie gives her a kind smile. Continuing to talk about today's lesson. When her eyes land on you, she notices that sane discomfort like the other night. All she wants to do is comfort you. But she had to stay professional.
She can deal with this afterwards. As the class nears the end she spots how you shift in your seat when Silvi walks past. Her brows furrow, now she was determined to figure out what had happened. Did she do something?
The car ride was silent. It was bugging the both of you but none of you say a thing. As the night goes on it proceeds to consist. Until she speaks up, finally. "You've been weird lately, especially that night that you came home strange from that party and you'd refuse to tell me what happened. And even the other night when-"
"Not now Billie please." - "So you admit something happened?" You stay quiet continuing to take your makeup off. "If not now when? Huh? You keep putting it off whenever I ask you if you're ok. I worry about you for fuck sakes." You turn around so fast. "Bull fucking shit. You've been distancing yourself again! I know damn well its not school. So what is it?" Now she's silent. "What, happened. At. That. Party." You turn to face the mirror. "If you won't tell me why you're distant I won't be telling you that." She was seething, you'd never seen her so angry before. But you didn't care you were getting annoyed too.
Then within seconds her hand Flys to your wrist, you jump getting a fright. She stops in her tracks. "She touched you. Didn't she." You Avert her eyes. "No." Hers squint, not believing that for even a second. "Did she?" - "Billie."
"Did she fucking touch you?"
"Yes. But I stopped it God, why are you so worried." Her brows furrow. "Because, you didn't give her consent to do that! That stupid bitch just thought she could do whatever."
"Why are you so worried when I stopped it." - "She could've pressured you." You shake your head. "Do you think I'm stupid or something?" She puts her weight on her left foot. "You know I don't think that." - "Again. Why are you so fucking worried when you're the only one I want touching me." The room fell silent, a slight need creeping in the air. Her face moves, eyes locking into your own. Her feet move, but so do yours. Lips instantly crashing on the others. Everything grew heated. "Only one?" You nod. "Only one." You both say between kisses. "It's only ever been you." Those words fuel everything in her.
Backing you up out of the bathroom and onto the bed her kisses trail down your neck, down to your cleavage. She takes all that you were wearing off, seeing you all. She then takes her clothes off, leaving you in awe about the special moment that was about to happen. Just you and her, closer than ever. When her cunt slots perfectly into yours you both let out a long well needed moan. This was all you ever wanted, it's all she ever wanted. To have you close in this way. She moves against you, her body moving closer to your own as your breasts touch. Her lips meet yours as she kisses you.
It was the sweetest kiss ever. Full of every emotion. As her movements pick up she pulls back loving how this all felt. "I love you." You were taken aback for a second. But that soon goes away. "I love you." You then reply, she was so happy. Your hands go to her face. "I'm inlove with you." Her heart melts, that's all she ever wanted. She just had no idea if you'd feel the same. "Together." She says softly, putting loose strands of your hair away from your face to see you better. You nod as she picks up momentum, feeling that amazing feeling building up. She feels it too, she feels it all. And with one last move of her hips your both gushing against one another.
You grab her face going to kiss her again, both smiling into it. She lays back on the bed, holding you in her arms. "Why I was distancing honestly had nothing to do with you. It was just my fucked up brain scared I'd ruin things and I nearly did." Your hand rests on her shoulder as you're both on your sides. "Bills. You could never ruin things, I think I've loved you for a very long time, but I too, was afraid. I'd never want you to feel like you had to choose me." She shakes her head. "I'd choose you in a million life times, over and over again." Her hands hold your face. This whole moment was just perfect. It was good to clear up things and communicate. Her eyes wander to your thigh. "I hope you know you can tell me anything at all. I'm here for you, always."
You nod as she says that. You trust her, which was hard for you. You thought this whole school would change that and it had. All because of her. You grab her hand moving it to that exact thigh. You let out a small breath as she watches your face, scans it. Her thumb moving over it soothingly. "Did something deeper happen to you?" You look at her. Thinking for a moment. "Nothing you need to worry about."
Except there was something deeper. Massively, that you knew youd have to tell eventually. And you would. Youd tell her everything. She was now your everything.
#billie elish icons#billie ellish lyrics#billie eilish imagine#billie#billie eilish smut#billie eilish#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish fandom#billie eilish x reader smut#billie eilish x y/n#billie eilish oneshot#billie eilish x you#billie eilish series#Her Favorite
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green thumb
synopsis: high school gf loves her veggie garden and so does charlie. rafe is clueless and lacks a green thumb, but does his best to be supportive.
The warm sun shone through the windows of the Cameron house, it’s rays casting a golden hue across the spacious living room that currently housed half of the aforementioned Cameron family. The tall frame of Rafe Cameron lay horizontal on the plush couch, his arms wrapped protectively around the small baby atop chest. His sweet little girl had only been born a few months ago, but she was already growing too fast for his liking. Each day was so precious to Rafe, knowing Emmy would never be this small again, so he cherished the mundane moments like this one, letting her use his chest as a mattress for as long as she wished. He basked in the rise and fall of her chest, the little grunts she let out as her dreams took place.
Rafe had been on the couch for an hour or so, letting his wife spend time with Charlie. The young boy loved his sister, but becoming a big brother was challenging. He was no longer the main focus of his parents and growing used to sharing the attention had been troubling for the boy. He would pout when his mother left his side to feed his sister, clinging tearily to her sleeve. It broke both Rafe and his wife's heart, and the pair knew they needed to do something to make Charlie know he was still just as important as before. That was when they noticed how much the little boy loved his mother's veggie garden. He was always trying to follow his mother outside, eager to play in the soil and spend time with his favourite person.
Each morning, the young mother would climb out of bed silently, her footsteps softly padding across the carpet in an attempt to not disturb the sleeping baby in the room. A soft kiss to her daughter's forehead before she disappeared outside to her veggie garden. At Tannyhill, the girl had grown a few herbs - chives, rosemary, thyme - that sort of thing. Rafe had never really noticed until one day he caught her sneaking out, and thinking the worst he followed her. He had frozen when instead of seeing her leaving the property or meeting another man, she had crouched down in front of the old neglected herb garden. Rose had tried to grow some herbs at one point before giving up on her faux housewife act, and Rafe had never really paid attention to what remained. His curiosity peaked as he watched his girlfriend gently water the soil and pat it in place, humming quietly to herself. Content with knowing her whereabouts, Rafe quietly stalked back indoors, tucking the knowledge away in his mind.
When the family moved to their new home, he decided to surprise his now-wife with a special section in the backyard just for her. He'd spent a few hours one morning while she was in town building planter boxes, filling them with soil and setting up a hose nearby. Rafe was so excited to surprise her once she returned home, covering her eyes with his hands as he led her out to the yard. Little Charlie sat on her hip despite her pregnant belly, his hands clinging to his mother.
"Hey-hey! No peeking! Don't you dare," Rafe muttered as she tried to move her head away.
"Just tell me, please?" She begged, growing impatient. It didn't help that Rafe's guiding skills left a lot to be desired.
"Just know that you're gonna like it, 'kay?"
When his hands dropped away from her eyes, she gasped softly. The perfect little garden set-up stood in front of her, all ready to go. Eyes wide, she turned to Rafe.
"Wha- how, I- how did you know?" She questioned incredulously. No-one had ever done anything like this for her. Rafe grinned down at her as his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his frame.
"I have my ways," he drawled cheekily, "I did good, huh?"
He watched as she nodded, turning to Charlie, "Should we go have a look?" The little boy nodded and Rafe stood on proudly as his wife and son went to investigate the new garden.
Rafe noticed Emmy stirring, the girl beginning to grumble as her hunger grew. He knew she needed to be fed or soon, the whole neighbourhood would hear the girl's screams. As he slowly pandered out to the yard, his eyes fell upon his wife and the small blond boy crouched at her side. With a watering can in one hand, Charlie gently delivered water to the small carrot and tomato plots. He squealed in excitement as his mother praised him for his effort, gently patting the soil around the growing vegetables as she did the same. Rafe looked at the two proudly, wishing he didn’t need to interrupt them, but alas, little Emmy began to whine loudly, catching the attention of her mother. She turned around quickly to see the small girl baby tucked securely in her father’s arms, and stood up.
“Hungry?”
“Don’t you know it,” Rafe grunted. He handed Emmy over to his wife’s outstretched arms.
“She’s just like you, never full,” she sighed, exasperated, before undoing the oversized button up of Rafe’s she wore.
The pair settled into a moment of comfortable silence as their daughter latched, her little hands reaching to cling to the shirt lapels. Calm spread but only for a moment.
“Daddy! Look! Strawberry!” Charlie shouted. Rafe stalked over to his son and crouched down to match his height. It was almost comical to see such a tall man make himself so small, especially when he couldn’t control the expression of slight discomfort covering his face.
“Wow bud, look at that… did you and your mama do that?” Rafe grinned as Charlie nodded, pleased with himself. Rafe had never fully been able to get into the groove of gardening, finding the waiting too painful to ever properly enjoy the art. But for his son, he would do anything - and so he played along. He would ask questions, get his son to show his new plants, praise his little sprouting vegetables and make sure his son knew he was proud of him. He wasn’t above forgetting which seed plot was which, but he tried. For a few moments, silence blanketed the family as an engrossed Charlie continued to tend to him plants.
“Mama and I have carrots too!” The boy exclaimed.
“Oh yeah? When are we gonna eat them, little man? How much longer until they’re ready?” Rafe asked, reaching his hand out to steady Charlie as he began to lean over the garden. Charlie looked up at his mother questioningly, the woman now seated on the bench nearby. She hummed softly as she thought for a moment,
“Maybe another month or two? We only planted them last week, C.”
The boy returned his gaze to Rafe, smiling at his father. Rafe looked down at his mini-me, sighing as he picked the boy up in his arms, standing and walking over to his wife. She had finished feeding Emmy now, and had the sweet little girl resting against her chest.
“Good thing we still have a grocery store nearby, huh?” Rafe chuckled, “Not gon’ starve.”
He grimaced at the sudden pinching sensation against his bicep, High School Gf sending a glare to him as she pulled her hand away. Shit.
“But hey - once those carrots are ready, we should make a big salad. You know that one you like, bud? We can make it for dinner one night. How’s that sound?” The momentary anxiety was evident in the way Rafe quickly spoke, desperately hoping to avoid a meltdown from the toddler. He was at an age where his sensitivity was high.
“Promise, daddy? And we have ice cream after?”
Both Rafe and High School Gf exhaled with relief. Crisis averted. Rafe nodded down at his son and when the boy extended out his pinky finger to affirm their promise, he grinned.
“Pinky promise, C.”
the pure domesticity of this would be sickening to the old rafe lol
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron concepts#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe x oc#outer banks x reader#outer banks imagine#outer banks fanfiction#rafe imagine#outer banks headcanons#outer banks#high school gf! au#dad!rafe au#dad!rafe#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe x you
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could i please request suggestive prompt 21 with mingyu? thank youu 💗💗
ah!!!! I enjoyed writing this one omg I may have went a little overboard. hope you enjoy it!
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suggestive prompt #21: "do you want me to kiss it better?"
you had always been a little careless, never one to shy away from trying new things or pushing boundaries. this time, though, it had been a mistake. you had tripped while running back to your apartment, scraping your knee pretty badly on the sidewalk.
you cursed under your breath, inspecting the small but painful cut. it stung, and you hissed as you tried to clean it with a tissue. that's when mingyu walked into the room, looking far too relaxed for someone who hadn't been aware of the situation.
"hey, what happened?" he asked, concerned but still casual. you glanced up, meeting his dark eyes, and tried to wave it off, a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
"just a little fall," you said, holding up the tissue as proof.
mingyu raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "you know, i think you might need a little more than a tissue for that."
before you could respond, he reached for the first aid kit you kept in the bathroom. when he returned, he knelt beside you, his fingers lightly brushing your knee as he gently cleaned the cut. his touch was soft but steady, and the warmth of his hand lingered even after he finished.
"better?" he asked, his voice low and warm.
you nodded, a small smile forming on your lips as you looked down at him. "yeah, thanks."
mingyu’s eyes were focused on your knee for a moment, but then they flicked up to meet yours, an unmistakable glint of mischief in them. there was a playful energy in the air, something you couldn't quite ignore. he was never one to let a situation like this slide without teasing you just a little.
"do you want me to kiss it better?" he asked, the words dripping with just the right amount of suggestiveness. you froze for a split second, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. his lips quirked into a grin as he watched your reaction, clearly enjoying the way you seemed to hesitate.
your heart skipped a beat, and you opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out. mingyu’s grin only widened as he hovered a little closer, his face just inches from yours now. his eyes were locked on yours, but his expression was unreadable—teasing but not quite pushing.
"you don't have to," he added, voice softening, his teasing lightening into something a little warmer. "i just thought... well, it might make you feel better."
you swallowed, heart racing. there was something about mingyu that always had this effect on you. he was always so effortless, so comfortable in his own skin, and yet always knew how to make you feel a little off balance. in this moment, you weren’t sure if he was being genuine or playful—but you couldn’t deny the pull you felt.
without thinking, you reached out, gently tugging at his wrist, pulling him just a little closer. "maybe you could," you said softly, feeling a slight flush spread across your cheeks.
mingyu’s eyes flickered, and for a moment, there was a brief, tangible silence between you both. then, without missing a beat, he leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against your knee, his touch surprisingly tender despite the playful words.
"there," he said with a grin, pulling back. "all better."
you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the situation had become. but somehow, mingyu made it feel like the most natural thing in the world.
your heart skipped a beat, and you opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out. mingyu’s grin only widened as he watched you squirm, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. but you weren’t going to let him win this time. after all, he always flirted and teased, and you were getting a little tired of being the one caught off guard.
taking a deep breath, you decided to play along, even if it made you nervous. "well, now that you've kissed my knee," you started, giving him a teasing look, "my heart feels unwell."
mingyu blinked, confusion flickering across his face before his lips curled into a knowing smile. "oh really?" he said, voice now more serious, but still with that hint of playful arrogance. "and why is that?"
"i think i have a case of the butterflies," you replied, your voice light, but you couldn’t stop the flutter in your chest. "so maybe you should kiss me better."
mingyu’s expression softened just a bit, his eyes darkening with a sincerity that made your heart race even more. he leaned in closer, not teasing now, but purposeful. "you want me to kiss you better?" he asked again, this time his voice low, his words almost a challenge.
you hesitated for only a second before nodding, your pulse quickening in anticipation. without wasting another moment, mingyu closed the distance between you two, pulling you in and pressing his lips against yours with a deep, urgent kiss. it was everything you’d been trying to avoid—intense, electrifying, like a storm that had finally come crashing down.
when he finally pulled away, you were left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. mingyu’s expression had shifted slightly, his grin replaced with something that bordered on vulnerable. he ran a hand through his hair, looking at you with a playful yet serious look in his eyes.
"now my heart feels unwell," he muttered, voice low and teasing once more. "guess you’ll have to kiss me better now."
you raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your composure despite the butterflies still fluttering wildly in your stomach. "but if we keep going, we're only going to take turns being unwell, I can't keep kissing you forever,"
mingyu chuckled, his warm breath brushing against your lips. "you can't? i definitely can. it just makes the job a little easier if you take care of me sometimes too, just to, you know, make it fair?"
you weren't sure what came over you, or what gave you such big confidence to even have a conversation like this with him, but mingyu's smile was enough to make your resolve crack. "let's make it fair then," you answered, your hands reaching for the ends of his collar, pulling him in. this time, you leaned in with purpose, your lips capturing his in another kiss.
he didn’t pull away this time, his hands finding your waist, holding you close as the kiss deepened. there was no teasing now—just the undeniable chemistry between you two, raw and intense. when you finally pulled back, both of you were left breathless, hearts racing.
"not all aches go away so fast," mingyu murmured, his voice low, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he gazed at you.
"what do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, still lost in the aftertaste of the kiss.
"i mean," he said, his tone suddenly more serious, "i think... you're gonna have to kiss me more and take care of me for a while. i'm not sure how long this ache in my chest will last. maybe a few years, maybe a lifetime, who knows?" his boyish grin was still there, but his eyes—those dark, soulful eyes—were locked onto yours, filled with something deeper now.
you felt your heart do a little flip. "you're serious, aren’t you?" you whispered, your voice a little shaky. mingyu's big smile drops into a small, scared and hesitant smile. he nodded, never breaking eye contact, his expression soft but filled with that same playful intensity. "mm," he says, "so serious."
the weight of his words hung in the air, a promise and a challenge all at once. you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, a mixture of awe and affection. your fingers lightly brushing his cheek. "guess i’ll just have to find a way to live with that ache of yours."
mingyu’s grin grew, that mischievous sparkle in his eyes returning. "guess we’ll both be living with a few aches for a while, then."
you leaned in once more, pressing your lips to his. this time, there was no rush. just the warmth of his lips on yours.
#seventeen imagine#seventeen#svt#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#svt angst#fanfic#seventeen x reader#seventeen kim mingyu#kim mingyu imagine#kim mingyu fanfic#kim mingyu seventeen#kim mingyu fluff#mingyu#kim mingyu#kim mingyu x reader#mingyu x reader#mingyu fluff#mingyu imagines#seventeen mingyu#mingyu seventeen#daisymbin: reqs
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well done <33 can i please ask for 68 and hee?
"i'm sorry...what?" heeseung leans forward, eyebrows knit tightly together in confusion.
"you heard me."
"no! i don't think i did!" scoffing with a nervous chuckle, heeseung stands up from the chair in your room and places both hands on top of his head, pacing back and forth.
"please heeseung i hate being so inexperienced. no one has let me do it before so please just let me do it once. i swear it won't change anything with our friendship."
heeseung can't believe what you're saying, genuinely cannot believe what the hell you are talking to him about. he's been your friend since middle school and now that you're in your second year of college the friendship seems pretty set in stone for life.
"say it again," he mumbles, now turning to face you.
"let me ride you."
"fuck...alright. but you're stupid if you think this won't change anything so i hope you're sure about this." truth is, heeseung has been trying to get over the fact that he's been in love with you since the first day you two met. only recently did he finally feel like he was making progress and even contemplated the idea of seriously pursuing this one person who was dropping major hints they are into him (it's the barista at his college campus. they leave their number on heeseung's cup every single day with cute messages and doodles).
but you just had to ask him this, something he would never be able to refuse.
minutes pass in a blur and suddenly both of your clothes are off and heeseung is laying on his back, on hand behind his head as he tries to get a good look at you without completely ogling.
you get on the bed and straddle his hips, careful not to lower yourself on his hardened cock. you wish you had a few more moments to just stare at it, completely thrown off with the length and girth your best friend has been packing this whole time. the thought of that going inside you is exhilarating and terrifying.
once you look into your best friends eyes though and see all the feelings he's tried to hide all these years, you don't hesitate and take the plunge. the way he stretches your walls has you gasping outloud, having to rock your hips back and forth slightly to try and help the stretch.
"ah...oh yeah, y/n, fuck you're so tight." heeseung's hands are on your waist but his eyes are on your chest. with a quick eyeroll you grab his hands and place them where his eyes were.
"you don't know how many times i've dreamed of this happening," he whispers.
with a laugh you reply with a simple, "me too," your stomach fluttering when you see the shocked look on his face. heeseung opens his mouth to say something, but you're fully sheathed on him now and immediately put your hand on his chest to stable you as you grind your hips against his crotch. all that comes out of heeseung's mouth for the next few moments is a slough of swear words, praises, and "i can't believe we've never done this before"'s. and once he's coming undone underneath you all he can ask is if you can do that again exactly how you did it before, because fuck that felt so good and he needs it tattooed into his memory.
for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist
#tysmmmm#jayparked 1k drabble event#heeseung smut#heeseung hard hours#heeseung hard thoughts#heeseung x reader#heeseung x you#heeseung x y/n#enhypen smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enhypen x reader#enhypen x you#enhypen x y/n
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You should definitely write for Vi bc oml she’s so fine 😮💨
DO U EVEN KNOW THE WAY IM TWEAKIN OVER HER like omfg. my poor moots getting bombarded with fucking piles of edits upon edits of her and my thirsty comments...yeah...i gotchu, you don't needa ask me twice ♡ tbh feel like this is one of the better short smutty thingies i've written, lol. it was really fun.
nsfw drabble—dom!vi + spit kink. originally i was gonna make this three smaller blurbs, but decided to just smash em all into one longer drabble situation. cw: praise, bossy vi, finger sucking (r! receiving), oral (v! receiving), vi bush mention RAHHHH, yapping... yk how it is by now. + 1.1k wc.
you were gazing up at her with watery eyes, kneeling by vi's seated form, trying your hardest to ignore the deafening ache between your thighs.
vi is loving, and she knows how to treat you well. she always provides you with tons of care and happiness, however—she also possesses a dirty side to her.
a bandaged hand swipes at the bottom of your chin, her thumb prodding at your pursed lips. there was a smirk playing on her scarred lips, her powder-blue eyes twinkling with pure lust at the scenario playing out before her.
“open.” she says roughly, and who are you to deny her? you were willing to take anything she'd give you, so you obediently part your lips, allowing her to fully push her digit inside your hot mouth.
almost instinctively, your puffy lips wrap around her thumb and you begin to suck, your eyes rolling ever so slightly at the taste of her salted skin. she hums, “atta girl—keep going. just like that, until i say you can stop, alright?” you open your eyes and nod in approval, wishing to commit her expression to memory.
see, vi wasn't one of those mean, degrading doms with an icy exterior who get off on hurting you an excessive amount, and in moments like this where she's got you in a position of submission under her, her natural “switchiness” peeks through. you see it in the way her throat bobs as she swallows, her unsteady, shallow breathing coming out in rasps, and the distinct furrow in her flaming brows while she struggles to maintain eye contact. regardless, you both enjoy toying around with various dynamics, she makes it fun.
you get lost in a daydream while staring into her eyes, but are startled out of it when she strongly presses down on your wet tongue, and pushes her thumb further inward until you gag.
it surprises you, but you know she would never overdo things. tears well up in your eyes, their presence only widening her voracious grin.
then she soothes, her now-soft voice caressing your ears, “exactly, just like that. good job, baby. you're so perfect f'me—yeahhh.” she continues rolling her thumb around your wet muscle, every so often dragging the pad of her finger over the ridges of your teeth, then pushing experimentally up against the roof of your mouth.
saliva has been gathering all this time, and she hasn't given you a moment to swallow it, so it dribbles out of your mouth and down your chin, decorating your chest as it slides down your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its path.
her face gets impossibly redder as she observes the sight, still while playing with—rather, using—your mouth. her movements speed up a touch, and she triggers your gag reflex once more before abruptly stopping. she pulls her hand out of your mouth with a pop, and throws her head back as she tries to steady her breathing. “you're so fuckin’ hot, god—i can't.”
you smile up at her, reveling in her break of character and being pleased with yourself. she's panting, and examines her hand; it's shiny and dripping with your spit, she's mesmerized by the sparkle it emits in the low light. her periwinkle eyes gloss over and suddenly there's a flash of fabric flying by, and you realize she has undressed herself in one fluid motion, throwing everything on her bottom half across the room. she’s so desperate, you can’t help but sneer at her horny distress, even though technically you were the one being overpowered.
your eyes drop, meeting a wild tangle of vermillion and scarlet, her muscular thighs separating east and west to make space for you.
she leans back and gently nudges your head towards her tender, drooling core, her chest heaving at the way you're just melting under her touch. turning to jelly, you let her guide you where she wants. needs.
vi groans quietly, her breath hitching, “c'mon angel, you know what to do.” and you very much did. with her assistance, you advance and bury your face in her center, tongue finding her scarlet pearl—twitching and ready for you to obliterate.
you flick, you suck, and you moan at the heavenly taste of her essence, revel in the noises she's producing above you. she pulls you further in, bucking her hips frantically to chase your skilled mouth. you push your tongue inside her quivering hole as far as it'll go, taking as much of her in your mouth as you can, and ignoring the lack of oxygen you're experiencing—you would be more than pleased if you were lucky enough to die this way.
she's watching you intently through half-lidded eyes, chewing on her rosy lips. when you meet her gaze from in between her legs, her face contorts and she releases a guttural whine, more slick leaking from her and filling your hard-at-work mouth.
her grip on your hair tightens and her abs tense, providing you with an image that's worthy of a climax just on its own. her head falls back, her lips parting to allow for pretty, high pitched and pathetic pleas to grace your ears. “ple—please baby, just like that. you're so fuckin' good, don't you dare stop—ah!”
without any warning she makes a vulgar mess of your face, the vice grip on your crown causing you to wince, but just as she requests, you don't dare move.
you tilt your head to get a better angle, practically making out with her swollen pussy. you drink up her cum, the near-sickly sweetness clouding your mind, coating your thoughts in a drunken haze.
the high is rippling through her at such an intensity her loud moans are replaced with pornographic whimpers, the sensations utterly ruining her. she squirms and arches, caging your head between her thighs until she gasps.
"hah—okay, okay, oh—fuck.” she stutters while she pushes you away, the tremor in her body evident. you sit back and examine your work, feeling proud of yourself, her fucked-out condition proving you did a good job.
she's sprawled on the bed like a starfish, still trying to slow her racing heart but manages to chuckle, basking in the aftershocks of a mind-melting session.
her words are slurred, yet satisfied. “did so good, that was so good…love your mouth s'much babe.”
you guffaw, and throw at her through chuckles, “i know, i am the best.” that sends her into a fit of giggles as well, and once she's calmed down she confirms.
“yeah, you really are.”
thanks for reading! comments, reblogs, and asks are appreciated more than you know ♡ if you'd like to be tagged in future works, fill out the form here! until next time ;)
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#pluto + their pen ☆#vi arcane#vi x reader#vi smut#vi x you#vi x y/n#vi x fem reader#vi arcane x reader#vi arcane smut#violet arcane#vi x reader smut#lesbian#wlw smut#wlw fanfic#wlw post#sapphic#arcane x reader#arcane smut#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane x female reader#arcane x gender neutral reader#vi fanfic#arcane fandom#arcane fanfic#arcane fanfiction#violet arcane x reader#vi league of legends#vi arcane imagine#requests! ♡
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Married In Vegas Interlude: The Patio
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
"I miss you," Evan says, strain in his voice, around his eyes. "I went out with a guy the other night and he said movies are for the weak-minded."
Evan always fell asleep halfway through movies. Not enough stimulation, so Tommy had started massaging his leg, tossing a nerf ball back and forth, asking Evan to paint his toenails. He's got a knitting for beginners kit sitting at the bottom of his mud room ottoman because that had been his next attempt to keep him entertained enough to make it through a single theater run-time Lord of the Rings.
"I hired a Taskrabbit to box up all your things because every time I saw them I wanted to call you," Tommy admits.
"Even the -?"
"That too," Tommy interrupts, and Evan scowls.
"You always do that."
"Anticipate what you're doing to say?"
"Never let me finish."
Tommy can't help himself: "I don't recall that ever being a problem." The first time Tommy had found his prostate he'd made noise like a dying cow and Tommy had been worried his neighbors would call the cops and a station they both knew would show up just in time for Tommy to drown in a puddle of Evan's cum.
Evan kicks at his leg. "We never talked about the things we did that irritated each other."
Tommy gets both calves wrapped around the offending ankle and holds them in place, hovering above the cheap and patchy artificial turf.
"Like you always pretending you couldn't overpower me if you tried?" he asks, and Evan bends his knees and hooks his toe and if Tommy didn't let the hold go they'd both end up in the ER tonight.
"Like turning the thermostat in the loft down every night when you snuck down for water after you thought I was passed out."
"You have fifty blankets within arms reach up there," Tommy argues, and something satisfied sparks behind Evan's eyes. Was he not supposed to cop to that?
"You flirt with my barista every time you wake up early to buy me coffee at the cafe downstairs," Evan says.
"Tawny is basically my barista at this point, she never saw you." It's been six months. Tawny is definitely not his barista, anymore
"Maybe I wanna be the one who wakes up early and treats you, every once in a while." Which makes Tommy snort, and tip his beer against his lips to drain the rest before he digs in the bucket for another.
"You're the biggest pillow princess I've ever met," he snaps, and then amends his statement. "That isn't one of the irritations," he says, softer. When he drops his free hand on the table, Evan snatches at it, fingers stretching over the back of it before twisting Tommy's wrist to reveal his palm. He does that thing that always made Tommy a little boneless: fingernails snagging on Tommy's calluses as he traces the patterns on his palm, up the lengths of his fingers. "I like taking care of people. You. I like taking care of you."
He curls his fingers in to catch his movements on a downward drag, slides them into the empty spaces between Evan's and presses their palms together. It's silent. Tommy feels heated, and he's not sure he can blame the three straight whiskeys he'd pounded back when he'd caught sight of the breadth of Evan's back, assumed it was a stranger, and thought to himself: I deserve to be haunted by this ghost.
"Can we please talk, Tommy? For real?"
Tommy pulls another beer from his bucket and passes it off to Evan. "I miss you too, Evan."
Evan drags his chair half an inch closer and beams.
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Lily's meaningless sacrifice
One thing that irks me is when people suggest that in canon, Lily had any idea that Harry would survive (this is merely a canon post, nothing to do with fanfiction). It irks me, partly because it's just incorrect and that's the sort of person I am. More importantly, however, it irks me because Lily not stepping aside when she had nothing to gain from dying is fundamental to the story.
Let's start with JKR own words from an interview in 2005:
MA: Did she know anything about the possible effect of standing in front of Harry? JKR: No - because as I've tried to make clear in the series, it never happened before. No one ever survived before. And no one, therefore, knew that could happen.
Lily knew nothing about the possible effect of standing in front of Harry. Lily was faced with this choice:
Scenario 1: Steps aside, and Harry is killed.
Scenario 2: Be killed, and Harry is killed.
Scenario 1 is (on the surface) objectively better (unless you're a DE and thus want less muggle-borns around). To Voldemort, it's a simple choice: In both scenarios Harry will die, in one, Lily will survive. In fact, this is what makes a lot of people defend Severus' choice to only ask Voldemort to spare Lily. Severus could not save Harry (and apparently it's totally cool not trying to save others if they bullied you).
Lily could not save Harry.
Lily's choice, as far as she is aware, is not whether to save Harry or not, but whether to save herself. And yet, Lily cannot stand aside. As JKR points out earlier in the interview, what Lily did is not that surprising to us readers ("I don't think any mother would stand aside from their child"). Why? Love. Because, as Dumbledore reminds us on multiple occasions: there are worse things than death - most notably in DH:
"Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love."
Love, and life with and without love is an undercurrent in the story. Lily's sacrifice is meaningless when made, and yet it's the biggest and most understandable expression of love anyone can show someone else. Lily cannot, and does not want to, live in a world where she has witnessed her son being murdered - especially when her husband has been murdered too. A world without Harry and James is no world for Lily Potter.
It is also - bear with me - not that different from what it was like to be in the Order at that time:
[Y]ou weren’t in the Order then, you don’t understand, last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one...
“He — he was taking over everywhere!” gasped Pettigrew. “Wh — what was there to be gained by refusing him?”
The Order operated against the odds and were being picked off one by one. As Peter asks - what was there to be gained by refusing him? What was there to be gained from standing (metaphorically or not) in front of Voldemort's victims? I've said this before and I'll say it again, Sirius' answer is powerful:
“What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?” said Black, with a terribly fury in his face. “Only innocent lives, Peter!” “You don’t understand!” whined Pettigrew. “He would have killed me, Sirius!” “THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!” roared Black.
Only innocent lives. They weren't fighting this war because they were winning. In fact they were very much losing. But they were fighting because it was right thing to do. Many Order members chose to die, rather than to step aside and let Voldemort take over. Only in their case it didn't make a difference - or at least, it didn't feel like it at the time. Members were murdered, and Voldemort was just getting stronger and stronger.
What was there to be gained by refusing Voldemort?
I firmly believe this is a theme that is repeated throughout the book: not just love and choice, but the obligation to choose what is right, no matter the odds (the irony that this was written by JKR will never be lost on me), and how love is a powerful motivator to do just that. Doing the right thing might seem hopeless in the moment - wasteful even - but that doesn't mean it's not worth doing, or that in the end, it won't add up.
Imagine what Harry felt like at the end of PS/SS when he risked his life to stop Voldemort, only to realise that Voldemort would keep trying to come back:
“Well, Voldemort’s going to try other ways of coming back, isn’t he? I mean, he hasn’t gone, has he?” “No, Harry, he has not. (...) Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time — and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power.”
Harry Potter isn't about doing the right thing because it will bring you rewards, but because it is the right thing.
“Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.”
This speech doesn't sit well with a few people because it sounds like you're asked to remember what happened to someone who did do the right thing (spoiler: he died). But that's not the point, of course. Cedric wasn't killed for doing the right thing or making a hard choice - Dumbledore asks the students to remember Cedric because the enemy is willing to kill innocent people indiscriminately. Standing aside will not be good enough against people like Voldemort. There is, as Dumbledore put it, a need to keep fighting what seems a losing battle. Why? Only innocent lives.
Both James and Lily die that evening because they are unwilling to let Voldemort near their innocent son as long as there is breath in their bodies. James had no choice (this irks me because he did, he could have run away - he could have not fought Voldemort in the Order to being with. They all had a choice, but not the point). Lily had a choice. And she chose, like many had before her, to fight what seemed like a losing battle. She died, not knowing that she had saved her son. Her sacrifice was meaningless - like so many before her - and yet her sacrifice changed the world.
In the end, by choosing to do what was right, she was granted the wish she most desired: Her son lived.
#Lily's sacrifice was - for the record - not meaningless#Neither was anyone in the Order before that either#It just must have felt like that at the time#Lily Evans#Lily Potter#James Potter#Harry Potter#Power of love#Harry Potter Canon#And subsequent discussion of that canon#HP meta
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Be careful what you wish for
Pairing: reader x rio vidal
Trigger warning: body shamming, self harm, suicide attempt, hate self (if you find more, pls let me know)
English is not my first language, etc etc etc. I don't know how to write romance very well either, but I tried. besides, I'm sure I exaggerated the amount of "you" written. I hope you like the story
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You are tired of the daily humiliations and an unhappy life, you want to die. Luckily, a certain Lady Death has a few things to say about your life.
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You come home tired every day. Tired of the humiliations at work, of having to report every mistake made by employees, of your boss yelling at you, all for a mere minimum wage.
You even asked for a salary increase, but he laughed in your face. A promotion would mean that you would have to present yourself to the shareholders and he couldn't allow that, you know why; to get ahead in life, you need to have the right weight and the right face. You don't have that. You know it, your parents know it and your boss knows it, because he looks you up and down, while denying all your dreams.
"But you are a good employee, who knows next year?" he says before you leave. You feel the humiliation run through your veins.
Yes, next year. If your size "L" becomes "XS", if you put on contact lenses and don't wear glasses, if you do facial harmonization. Yes, you have a chance.
Your colleagues don't like you either. They focus on your appearance and the fact that you're too shy and introverted. They've never invited you to Happy Hour after work, or to one of their birthdays either; you don't like drinking, but you've always wanted to fit in.
You decide you don't care. But the truth is that you care so much that it's hurt so bad, and you need to do something to stop this pain.
You also get tired of your parents asking for money or wanting to get a boyfriend to you, never asking how you are or coming to visit you. You get tired of not having friends, or anyone to lean on. You get tired of life.
You sigh as you change your clothes. You always wear long-sleeved shirts and jeans. You don't want anyone to see how ugly you are... inside and out.
You look at yourself in the mirror, only in your underwear. You analyze the cuts on your skin, everywhere you can reach, you made a lot of cuts, especially on your arms and thighs; some are older, most are recent, leaving blood stains on the clothes you wore.
Your reflection stares back at you, looking amused. You hug yourself, trying to hide from your own gaze, but to no avail. You feel dirty, your sagging skin falling apart in tour hands.
In a world where there are Avengers, supreme wizards, witches, heroes and villains, you feel like nothing. You are nobody.
With no desire at all, you take a shower, using a sponge forcefully on your body, as if that would wash away all the extra pounds. Your hard movement causes the fresh cuts to reopen and you see blood going down the drain along with the soap and water. You are numb.
You remember the ways to calm down your therapist taught you, but they don't work. They never did.
When you see your sleeping pills, you decide that this suffering is no longer worth it. You are not worth it. This will be the first and last time you put yourself first.
You won't leave any letters or explanations, it's not necessary. No one will miss you.
You gather all the medicines you can find and put them in the blender along with the alcohol, there's no going back. You know won't be, you don't want to go back.
No amount of stomach pumping will solve it, in case some gossipy neighbor decides to help you. You've made sure of that.
You need peace. If what's necessary for that is for you to face death, you'll do it with a smile on your face.
You put on the first pajamas you find and drink the entire contents of the glass, grimacing and choking as the liquid burns your throat.
Finally, you lie down on your bed one last time, ready for a dreamless sleep, and then, never to wake up again.
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You opened your eyes, still groggy, and found a vision. A woman in a black robe stared at you. You just thought she was beautiful.
Y/N doesn't believe in God; But if there is an afterlife, you always thought you would be punished for killing yourself. At the very least, you are at the Valley of Suicides, and would suffer in mourning for ages. Either that, or you would go to hell.
However, looking at this woman in front of you, you thought you were in paradise.
The figure softened her expression, smiling a little bit, as if she had heard your thoughts, but soon closed herself off.
"Why did you do that?" she asked you, worried.
Y/N couldn't understand where she was or who that woman was... Maybe she was a neighbor? She thinks she's never seen you in her life, but her vision betrays you, completely blurred.
"I didn't mean to," you answered automatically, not used to someone talking to you for more than five minutes.
The woman didn't believe you. Rio saw your arms and the scarred cuts, but chose not to comment; she didn't want to scare you.
It wasn't the first time Rio had been called to a death by suicide and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but you were intriguing. Usually the others had someone by their side, but you were alone. She didn't want to leave you like this, not when you looked so fragile.
"Who are you?" Your conscience was leaving you, but you wanted to understand.
"I'm Lady Death , my dear." Rio approached you. "I'm here, because you called me."
Was that supposed to make sense? No coherent thought was going through your mind, the various medicines you had swallowed doing their job.
"Am I still alive?" You asked rhetorically, before your body shut down from the pressure.
Rio sighed, wondering where she had gotten herself into.
As the natural order of all things, she could simply heal you and leave, but that wouldn't solve anything. Death can't heal someone's psyche; and once your senses returned, you would try to kill yourself again. Rio couldn't let that happen. She would help you, even if it meant saving you from yourself.
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For weeks, Rio healed your stomach and your injuries a little at a time, and you were getting better, with no more risk of complications because of it in the future.
She would make you food, wake you up and help you to eat, staying with you until you fell asleep again, your body still very weak.
She started to notice you more, how you slept peacefully, the dimples that formed on your face when you smiled, or how your eyes looked at her curiously, even though you couldn't hold a coherent conversation for long.
You don't remember any of this. Your consciousness came and gone the whole time.
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Until one day, you woke up completely lucid. On autopilot, you went to get ready for work and saw yourself in the mirror. You were horrified when you remembered...
You...were alive? You're not even good enough to kill yourself, my God! How is that possible?
You wanted to scream, throw yourself off the building, hit your head hard against the wall until blood came out, anything. You were confused, your mind was all jumbled up. You had planned everything!! Did someone save you??? Why would someone do this?
You were going to puke. You ran to the bathroom, trying to hold on to the walls, shaking. You needed to calm down. You needed to understand what was happening.
The easiest thing to calm you down was your old friend; but when you made the first cut, you noticed that all the others were missing.
No. No. NO!
This can't be happening. It's a nightmare, right? A medication-induced nightmare. Soon it will all pass and you will be dead. Just as it should be.
Meanwhile, you made all the cuts you could, your hand shaking more and more. It didn't work, you hadn't calmed down.
You got up with unsteady steps and went to the kitchen, looking for a knife. You couldn't find one. You also didn't notice the presence behind you, until she spoke to you, her tone mild.
"You need to stop this, Y/N."
Rio was collecting some bodies from the other side of the world, when she felt a tug towards you. You needed her. She hoped it wasn't too late.
"Leave me alone," you shouted, feeling your eyes water. Rio tried to get closer to you, but you backed away. It took you a while to remember who she was, but the clothes she was wearing helped. Death... you almost didn't believe it. You felt betrayed. The only being you thought would truly welcome you with open arms took everything you had; including your reminders.
"You... You saved me," you accused her. Rio had the decency to look guilty. "You took away my free will, you healed me without my permission! You hurt me more than anyone else, you took everything I had." Y/N cried freely now. Tears blurred her vision.
Rio knew what you were talking about. It hurt her that you felt that way. She never wanted to hurt you, only to help you. Lady Death wished she had permission to kill everyone who hurt you throughout your life.
"You don't need them, Y/N." Rio still spoke softly, you could barely hear her.
"Why do you care?"
"I... I fell in love with you." Rio admitted what she had been thinking for days. At some point while taking care of you, she fell in love. Death had never loved anyone before.
Y/N stared at her, motionless. Then, she laughed.
"Is this some kind of joke?" she asked when she caught her breath. Rio shook her head. "Some kind of dirty game between the cosmic entities to attract the weak human's attention?" Rio shook her head once more.
"Seriously, look at me," you shouted, not understanding.
And Rio looked at you. Even with your face red from crying so much, even with the fresh cuts and so much self-loathing, Death found you beautiful.
"I'm looking at," Rio whispered. His heart heavy with your suffering.
"No!" Y/N thought Rio didn't understand. "Look at me!," you shouted with contempt this time. "How can someone like you fall for something like this?" you pointed to yourself.
Rio saw you, she understood you more than you remember. You talked a few times, even with the loose and incoherent words, Death heard you. And she was saddened by every word you said. With the self-loathing that society forced upon you at every step of your life.
Vidal didn't know how to calm you down, so she did the only thing that came to her mind at the moment. She ran to you, grabbed your face and kissed you on the mouth.
It was just a light brush of lips. Rio wanted to show you that she liked you, but you hadn't stopped talking. She wanted you to listen now.
"I see you, S/N" the woman in front of you tried to wipe away your tears, in vain. They kept coming freely. "I see you and I understand you" you found yourself relaxing your face towards the hand that caressed you. "I want to kill all those idiots who once hurt you, because you, Y/N Y/S, are an incredible woman. And not a "it thing", I am sure".
You wanted to complain, but Rio didn't let you. She wasn't finished.
"S/N, you're so sweet, so selfless, you have such a good heart" Rio continued. "Never believe anyone who tells you otherwise, because you are beautiful. Beautiful inside and out. Your life is worth living" by the look she gave you, you saw the truth in her eyes. She truly believed the words she said, even if you didn't. "I think you are the prettiest girl in the world, and The Death doesn't lies, sweetie".
Y/N couldn't answer, your body gave out and you passed out. Rio caught you before you fell and carried you to your bed.
"It's okay, my love" Rio whispered, kissing you on the forehead "I can be strong for both of us, until you make it"
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You woke up completely healed. Rio would leave you alone now, if you wish. It would break her heart, but she wanted you happy.
You didn't need to look around to know she was still there.
"Are you ever going to leave?" You stood up, sitting up.
"Only if you want to" Rio approached you, this time you didn't back away, but you didn't answer her.
With the physical healing, you began to remember the previous weeks and found yourself enjoying her presence; the moments you spent together. A smile escaped your lips and it did not go unnoticed by Rio.
"May I?" Vidal pointed to the space next to you and you nodded. You felt the bed sink with the new weight, and you looked down at your hands; you were suddenly embarrassed, very aware of yesterday's closeness.
"Thank you," you thanked, realizing that the cuts from yesterday were still present on your skin.
Rio nodded. "I apologize for before, I shouldn't have done that without your permission, if they were important to you."
Rio didn't apologize for saving your life. That, she didn't regret it for a second. She would do it again if she had to, but Rio really hoped it was the first and last time.
Y/N didn't answer, instead asking another question.
"Do you really like me?" You were afraid of the answer, both the "yes" and the "no."
"Yes, I do." That simple sentence made Y/N look into Vidal's soft eyes. You saw the same thing as yesterday: Unconditional love. You still.don't know how it's possible for Death to fall in love with someone like you, "And I want to be with you."
You opened your mouth, but quickly closed it. Everything that had happened to you flashed through your mind.
"The heart doesn't choose who it falls in love with, Y/N." Rio realized that you were afraid of getting hurt again, maybe it would be better to leave you alone.
"You don't have to answer, dear. I won't take up any more of your time." Death stood up, ready to leave and never see you again, if that was what you wanted.
"Wait..." you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper, "stay." You grabbed her hand and squeezed it lightly.
Rio turned around and listened carefully.
"I... I like your company." you continued.
The "I like you too" was still stuck in your throat. You couldn't say it yet, it was too early. Fortunately, Death is a patient being.
"And from what I remember these past few weeks, I had a lot of fun with you," you sighed. "But I can't return your love." You looked at the floor, embarrassed. "I don't know how to love someone or be loved, I don't even know how to love myself."
Rio was silent for a few minutes. Y/N was sure she had lost her chance at happiness.
"Oh, darling," Rio knelt in front of you and caressed your face, softly. You could get used to this every day. "I can teach you to love yourself, like I love you...if you let me. I want to spend my eternity by your side."
Her eyes were so beautiful and bright, you could get lost in their immensity. You could love her over time, you know that. You just have to let yourself.
You nodded slightly and Rio smiled, moving closer.
"May I?" She asked for the second time that day, but this time it was to kiss you. You smiled, taking the initiative now.
It would be a long journey for the two of you, with some ups and downs, but Y/N would never feel hated again. Rio Vidal would kill everyone before they had the chance to hurt you.
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