#riverelia

Irelia shoved off her blankets and crossed to the door of her room, busying her hands with tying her hair back into a more manageable ponytail, opening the door with an elbow and slipping out into the hallway.

There were a little more than a dozen rooms in the barracks, almost all unoccupied. Neither Pyke nor Gwen seemed to need sleep, and both Vayne and Diana were distinctly nocturnal. No doubt Senna and Lucian were up above as well, anxiously planning their next move. Irelia could hear Olaf snoring distantly from two rooms to the left, but she only had eyes for one door. A soft light spilled out from underneath the threshold, making evident the wakefulness of its occupant.

Irelia’s hand was halfway to the door’s handle before she was able to catch herself. Calm breaths. Remain in control. Storming into her old flame’s room and ravishing the woman definitely felt like the most fitting outcome for the desperation currently sending a constant fidget down her fingers, but...there was too much complicating that. Riven was easily startled and quick to panic. Riven needed to control her environment. Riven had not made clear if a year apart had changed her feelings.

Irelia had caught the woman staring a few times over the past week. During meetings, across hallways, in passing. Lingering glances that Irelia could only ever read as “I need to know you’re still here” when she felt optimistic, and “I know what to say but I don’t know how to say it” when otherwise.

Riven, it seemed, was even more exhaustingly careful than she used to be.

Irelia raised her hand and rapped her knuckles twice against the door. “It’s me,” she said, and was close to second-guessing that assumptive familiarity when the response came.

“Oh, yes, Irelia, uh...yes. You can come in.”

Irelia opened the door, and closed it behind her.

Riven was in bed, the covers pulled up to her chest, an open book on her lap and a skewed sheepish smile on her face. Her clothes were haphazardly slung over a chair, and her broken sword’s hilt – wrapped now in white Demacian steel – rested on a nearby table. Her hair was even more pale now, no longer the sun bleached dusty silver it had been, a near-blue in the unnatural light from a Sentinel torch set in the wall above the table.

Irelia almost had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. “You still sleep naked?”

“Only when I can afford to,” Riven laughed, glancing away, her cheeks faintly rosy. “It’s been a bit of a Sentinel selling point. Noxian cells didn’t exactly give me much affordance for privacy.”

She said it like it was nothing. Like it didn’t bother her. “I see. And you’re...” Words failed her. So much Irelia wanted to ask. Nothing she didn’t dread the answer of. “I’m glad you’re here, then.” Out of the cells. Out of Noxus. She didn’t mean for it to sound...

Riven beamed. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re here too.”

That soft, husky voice sent a fluttering breath into Irelia’s throat. No taking it back now. She took a deep breath of stale air. Cowardice would end tonight back in an empty room with regret stinging at the corners of her eyes. Irelia was tired of the silence. Exhausted from its ubiquity. From so long away from the other Blade Dancers, from Liania and Zinneia, and...yes, from Riven. That particular silence had festered far longer.

Irelia took another step, watching Riven’s eyes flick down towards her bare legs, towards the hem of her nightdress, and then a little too-quickly back to her face, the woman’s lips pursed.

“I missed you,” Irelia said.

“Never a day went by that I didn’t,” Riven replied. Utterly, painfully solemn.

“I wish you’d fought to stay,” Irelia said, eyes locked on Riven’s face, tracing the shape of the wince. Waiting, hoping. Bite back. Defend against it. Don’t get Irelia’s hopes up.

Riven didn’t shy away. “I know. I’m sorry. You have every right to be angry.”

Irelia paused. She was at the foot of Riven’s bed now. Was it passivity? Or something else? Something Irelia refused to name. “I’m not angry. I missed you, and I would have liked it if I didn’t have to.”

A twitch of a smile tugged at the corner of Riven’s mouth. “You have every right to that, too.” A long, careful breath. “I’ve found...I have a nasty habit of trying to keep myself from the things – and the people – who keep me happy. Something to do with not deserving that joy.”

Riven idly traced nonsense-shapes into the blanket with one finger as she talked. “It took, I think, too long for me to realize how selfish that was. It’s not a behavior I want to keep. Isolating myself...well, it only does my misery any good. I don’t doubt it’s caused pain for those who care about me.” A flick of gaze back towards Irelia.

It would have been appropriate for Irelia to laugh. To draw from that lonely spite that had left her dry-sobbing into her pillow on more than one occasion, like a lovesick teenage girl she should have outgrown. Irelia didn’t feel spiteful. She felt something uncurl inside her, a deep pooling warmth licking at the underside of her ribcage. Something so horribly hopeful. A word that rhymed with want.

“I make you happy,” Irelia said. A deadpan question. Giving Riven the rope to bind herself with.

“You make me happy,” Riven repeated. “So dreadfully. It scared me.”

“Scared you?”

A little flick of gaze away, then back. Irelia slipped closer, around the edge of the bed.

“When people have power over me,” Riven finally said. “I’m used to that being a bad thing – a dangerous thing. It’s supposed to make me panic.” A wobble of lips that was almost a smile. “I’m not used to enjoying it.” Tying the knot around her own wrists.

“You like that I have power over you?” Irelia shifted one knee onto the bed, testing the waters. When Riven didn’t answer right away, she pressed further. “You want me to have more power over you?”

Riven picked up the open book on her lap. Without looking, she tossed it onto the nearby table, rattling her blade. The action shifted the blanket entirely off Riven’s chest, but she made no attempt to cover herself.

“I don’t know if you could,” she said, a hoarse whisper that drew Irelia closer, had her slip entirely onto the bed, her leg brushing against Riven’s through the blanket. “I haven’t...I’ve spared no humility.” She swallowed, loud enough to hear. “I’ve nothing left of me to offer that you don’t already have.”

“Say it clearly,” Irelia whispered back. Her hand found the hem of the blanket, grasping it tightly. Waiting. “Tell me.”

“You own me,” Riven said, words without breath. “I’m yours, still yours.”

That was enough. Irelia pulled the covers up and over and off, a flash of bare skin and a storm of touch, pulled into Riven’s arms as much by gravity as her own volition, and she kissed nose and cheek and chin before finding her lips and desperately, needfully, planting kiss after kiss after kiss on them. Irelia’s arms were by Riven’s sides, hands flat on the mattress, keeping her from falling fully onto the woman. Though...

Irelia shifted. Jitters of motion, bit at a time when their lips were parted. Riven’s legs had been together on the left of hers, but Irelia managed to slip one leg in between, parting them. By the time her thigh rested flush between Riven’s, practically straddling her, the woman’s breath had shifted from husky to high-pitched, almost a whimper of want drowned out by her lips crashing into Irelia’s again, pulling her closer. Irelia’s elbows buckled, a desperate hand on Riven’s side to keep herself stable, and–

She could feel Riven’s ribs. Irelia blinked. She tried to catch herself, squinting past the haze of arousal. Hand down Riven’s side – tasting the hiss of breath that came alongside a jolt of tension – just to make sure, before she returned it to the mattress. She could feel her ribs.

When they’d first met, that year ago, Riven had the body of a farmer. Strong and soft, well-fed. She’d picked Irelia up once, one arm across her back and the other under her legs, only straining when Irelia went limp and made it difficult on purpose. How could Riven ever feel frail to the touch? How could she ever...

They’d starved her. Noxus had starved her Riven. The thought bared Irelia’s teeth into the kiss, and had her digging her nails into the mattress.

It was with hunger that Riven kissed her. Her hands splayed across Irelia’s back, fingers pressing into her skin, craning her chin up ever so slightly to chase Irelia’s touch whenever she parted the kiss to breathe. Her quick and sharp breath danced on Irelia’s lips, each exhalation tasting like the shape of a silent “please” reflected so apparently in her eyes. Their distance had found Irelia roughly, but this was...

Riven sighed, and the sound sent a jolt through Irelia. “Rel. You’re doing it again.” She could feel the woman smiling into the tender kiss she pressed to her lips. “Be here with me, okay? Please be here with me.” Smart. Smart and right. Smart and right and careful even though her voice was laden with lust to the point of shuddering.

Irelia scrunched her face up until her ears popped, and then opened them again. She’d missed this. Missed her. “I’m here,” she said. A peck. “I’m here.” Longer, lingering. “I’m here.”

“Nowhere else?” Riven asked, and she sounded too desperate to be teasing.

“Nowhere else,” Irelia said. “I want to be here.” Leaning further, just a little, planting a kiss on Riven’s cheek before lowering her voice to a whisper. “I’ve been dreaming for months about making you mine again.”

She watched Riven melt. Eyes lowering to half-lid, her shoulders dropping, the smallest of whimpers drifting out of her.

A smirk found Irelia. Had she really forgotten how fun this could be - should be? Time may have intensified the longing, but Riven had always been rather sensitive, hadn’t she? Just to test, she leaned in a little further, pressing her chest against Riven’s and nipping at her earlobe. The beautiful little sound she made was almost as good as the embarrassed grumble in her throat when Irelia burst into giggles.

“Needy,” Irelia teased.

“Yours,” Riven groaned; and Irelia was glad her face was obscured from sight to hide the intensity of the heat that hit her cheeks, though there was no hiding the way her breath quickened.

Irelia pushed herself up again and was immediately bombarded with kisses, returning them with gusto, nipping at Riven’s lips. And then Riven started to roll her hips and the very first bit of motion pressed her thigh into Irelia’s crotch and Irelia broke the kiss and bit her lip hard to keep quiet. Oh that felt good. Oh no that felt good.

The thigh-to-thigh position of their legs had been intended to tease Riven – and it seemed to be working well at that, judging by the heat permeating into Irelia’s leg through strained fabric, accompanied by an inconsistent throbbing that made her feel almost lightheaded with need – but Irelia couldn’t deny it had certain consequences as well. With each roll of Riven’s hips, not only could Irelia feel the woman’s dick against her leg through her underwear, but the return stroke brought Riven’s thigh up against Irelia’s clothed cunt, almost bouncing her on her leg, and it shouldn’t have felt this good but it really did.

Her own hips started to move before she noticed, which did have the benefit of getting a choked whine out of Riven – scratch that, even the whine felt electric up Irelia’s spine, and she felt her elbows shudder to the point of buckling again.

“Hold, I, Riven, stop for, just–” A breathless string of words that thankfully got the point across. Riven stopped immediately, and it was only then that Irelia noticed how fast the both of them were breathing.

“What do you need?” Riven asked immediately. “What can I do?”

Still such a sweetheart. Irelia rewarded her with a peck on the lips. “Arms tired. I need to adjust.” One hand on the nearest wall for balance, dragging herself a little bit upright and blessedly away from her self-made pleasure trap, other hand on Riven’s shoulder rather than the mattress. Riven’s own hands shifted from Irelia’s back to her hips; dangerous, but she could manage.

Riven nodded. “Do you want to be on the bottom?”

Oh. Okay no not a chance the thought of Riven pinning her to the bed sent a jolt down her spine that ended in her pussy. “No, that's okay,” she wheezed. Irelia was still in control. She was the one setting the terms. Riven was hers, that’s how this would–

“Please?” Oh no. “I’d...I mean, if you’re up for it, I don’t want to assume but...” Oh no. “I’d really like to make you cum. Please, Rel.”

Irelia closed her eyes and grit her teeth and prayed her body didn’t remember how good that would feel and her body definitely did. “Yeah,” she said, eyes still closed. “Okay. Yes.”

A second passed. “Yes what?”

...no. She was not doing this right now. Irelia opened her eyes to see Riven’s expression halfway to serene with just the tiniest bit of a smirk. “Yes please,” Irelia responded.

Her expression did not change. Just kept on staring up at her with those calm, beautiful eyes. “Yes please what?”

There was no way out of this with her dignity intact, was there? Irelia swallowed hard, and brought herself down onto Riven’s chest, and counted to three in her head, and said the magic words. “Please make me cum, Riven.”

And if Riven hadn’t looked hungry before, that glint in her eyes was ravenous. She shifted and scooted to the side, one arm up and around Irelia’s shoulders to bring her onto her back on the bed in a lurch of motion. She waited for Riven to sit up over her, to pin her down, and...

Kept waiting. Riven was reclining on her side against the wall, at the edge of the mattress, with Irelia flat on her back. One of Riven’s arms was under her shoulders, the other across her stomach. Halfway to spooning. Irelia furrowed her brow, turning her head to find Riven’s gaze.

“Is your arm stuck?” Irelia asked.

Riven shook her head. “Just stay put. You’re right where you should be.”

Did she know what those words did? How they pooled in the pit of Irelia’s stomach?

With her right hand, Riven took Irelia’s own hand to her lips and kissed it, then brought that arm up and over her shoulders so her chest could be flush against Irelia’s side, and Irelia’s hand was against the back of Riven’s neck. Then that right hand went once again back to Irelia’s stomach, to where the hem of her nightdress was riding up, and lower.

“You’re not breathing.”

Irelia breathed.

“Good girl.”

Fuck.

Riven put her hand down against Irelia’s crotch, and Irelia let her head fall back and stopped trying to watch it happen. She felt it. Those fingers dragged up the wet fabric, all the way to her clit, and Irelia whined into her throat, unsure if she felt more relieved or disappointed when the touch lifted only a second later. When she felt Riven’s fingertips against the waistband of her underwear, Irelia’s hips bucked involuntarily at nothing, a little hiss slipping between her teeth.

“Easy,” Riven laughed – she laughed. The sadist. Down danced her fingers, under the waistband–

Irelia’s knees had been up and slightly together, but feeling that single thick, rough middle finger grinding down on her bare clit was enough to drop her thighs to either side as a weezing whimper of barely stifled pleasure was wrenched out of her.

Maybe Irelia wouldn’t admit to herself that she’d longed for Riven’s touch again, but it seemed her body had no such qualms towards such honesty. Her hips were already jittering, a squirm towards chasing that hand in her underwear, chasing the pleasure that wasn't nearly enough for her year-long itch.

“Good girl,” Riven whispered, and another of Irelia’s choked moans followed it. “I didn’t even have to ask, and you spread your legs for me.” For her. For her. For her. If she asked in that husky fucking voice, Riven could probably get her to offer up anything. Everything.

Irelia could almost feel the arousal dripping out of her. No doubt Riven could feel it too, with the way she was running her middle fingertip up and down her weeping vulva, the underside of her knuckle still curling so dizzyingly against Irelia’s clit. Irelia couldn’t breathe but for her whimpering; how could anything be this synapse-frying and still yet not enough!?

“M-m-more,” Irelia managed, barely a word, torn apart by her own half-chattering teeth.

“More, Rel?” Riven asked. So painfully sincere. A flash of those soft amber eyes paled by the light, through the blinding haze of pleasure. “Another finger?”

Irelia nodded, but it left her closer to a convulsion. “In...in me.” And she screwed her eyes closed and clenched her jaw and braced for Riven to provide.

She did not have to wait long. Two thick fingers pushed into her cunt, steadily and slowly all the way into her, and Irelia groaned into her closed mouth, a little slipping through her lips so her left hand clamped over her own mouth, and her back was arched and this had felt good before, a year ago maybe she’d cum on Riven’s fingers a few dozens times over the span of a week, but this fullness was–

“Breathe, Rel.” The sternness of Riven’s voice and the feeling of her hand pulling at Irelia’s knocked a gasp out of her, a whimper soon following, Irelia opening her eyes and turning her head to search for her fault in Riven’s eyes, only to be met with a lingering kiss. “Please,” Riven said, the moment their lips parted. “Please let me hear you. Irelia, please stop holding back. For me, please.”

Magic words. “Riven,” she keened, before the shifting of the woman’s fingers inside her melted whatever apology she could have been mustering. Riven pulled them out to the last knuckle, then pushed back into her, and Irelia could feel her flexing them against the roof of her pussy and a twelve month dam cracked wide open.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck Riven fuck please please more please keep just anything keep fucking me please Riven please–!” Babbling whatever bare coherency she could grasp, with her right hand anchored on the back of Riven’s neck and her left hand flailing desperately for an anchor against the mattress, and Riven just kept pumping her fingers in and out of Irelia’s cunt. “I’m yours please I’m yours I’m yours!” And every word ignited a new set of fireworks, clenching down hard around Riven’s fingers.

“Cum for me Rel, please cum for me.”

Irelia’s gut dropped before she noticed the precipice. Then the orgasm was flattening her lungs and she whimpered out a long breath that rhymed with her lover’s name, and Riven was cooing something sweet and sonorous and peppering Irelia’s face with kisses. Irelia’s entire body was buzzing and warm and tense all at the same time.

The coldness crept in slowly. Little shards of lucidity. The bed beneath her ass felt cold – wet, a word grasped with a growing sense of shame. Her heart was pounding too-loudly in her ears. Little pockets of tenderness were unraveling as the tension drained from her, and swathes of sweat were making themselves known across her skin. Irelia felt beyond winded. Her eyes were prickling and her nose itched. A single wobble of her lip clued the puzzle in.

“Oh, love,” Riven whispered, and the arm around Irelia’s shoulders shifted and she followed the motion into Riven’s embrace. Irelia grasped for fabric on the woman she could not find, something to hold, something to cling to, something to keep her here; the moment those words rang across her skull, the tears flowed freely.