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vivwritesfics · 1 month ago

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Easy Is The Way

He made it very clear that you would entertain his company, but little else. He would no fall for you, but he would not be cruel to you. He would be kind to you, he would care for you, but he would not let himself fall for you

Lucius Verus x reader (general Acacius's daughter)

Chapter One

"What did he do to you?" Your father whispered once you had gotten home.

"Nothing," you said quickly, shaking your head. "Father, he was not cruel to me. He did not lay a hand on me. He allowed me to rest." Your arms were crossed over your stomach, holding your sides as you looked at the floor.

Your father wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. "I will put a stop to this," he whispered, a tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. "Even if it ends me."

You swallowed, your mouth dry as you stepped back, as you walked away from him. The baths. You just wanted to wash. Wash away the Colosseum, wash away all of it.

Hanno. His home had been taken from him by your father. His life had been ruined by your father. His wife, murdered at your father's command. He had no reason to be kind to you, had every reason to wrap his hands around your neck and watch you die.

It was the revenge he so deserved. Take the life of Marcus Acacius' daughter, avenge his wife.

Something was going on with Lucilla.

As you bathed, you heard whispers. Things that the staff had overheard, that they were sharing amongst themselves. But they weren't sharing it with you. You tried to listen in as you soaked in the warm waters of the private baths in your home, but they were keenly aware of you.

The information was not for your ears, that was clear.

Your father was being secretive, quiet. Whatever was going on with Lucilla was shared between them, not for your ears. You gritted your teeth and tried to not let the frustration show on your face.

No matter what room you entered, it fell silent as soon you did. Even if you tried to creep, you were unable to keep yourself hidden. Your fathers trained ears were able to pick you up the moment your sandals hit the stone floor.

You couldn't hide that it frustrated you. Not knowing, being left in the dark.

The next day of the games. You didn't expect your gladiator to survive. But he wasn't your gladiator, was he? He was just a gladiator who happened to be kind to you.

Maybe the Emperors would make another example out of you. Maybe they would send you down to the Colosseum again if he won, send you to be his prize. You could spend time with him, get to know more about him and his home.

The colosseum was full of water. It looked beautiful, but you knew that it was deadly. Water full of sharks and, soon, the remains of gladiators.

Seated beside your father, you watched as the ships emerged. There was little you could hear over the cheer of the crowd, but Hanno's voice rang out. You couldn't make out what he was saying, but it was clear as day that he was leading his men.

Whilst everyone cheered, while the twin Emperors grinned down at the scene in front of them, the scene that had been carefully curated for their amusement and pleasure, you shut your eyes. The violence and blood and gore of men fighting men had already been too much for you.

This was another level of barbaric.

The same air of unease settled over Lucilla and your father. She held his hand, unable to breathe as the flaming arrows were shot towards the gladiators.

The sail was on fire as the two ships headed towards each other. Muttered prayers left your lips, not loud enough for anybody to hear over the noises of the crowd. This wasn't real to them. Some game to fill their afternoon.

The first gladiator fell into the water. You could only hope that the arrow piercing his armour got to him before the shark did. The beast grabbed him, tore him apart as the water around his body turned red.

Your heart beat erratically as you searched for Hanno. There he was, still commanding the gladiators. You released a breath, sitting back in your seat.

They used the ship like a battering ram, splintering the hull of the other one. Immediately, Hanno began running. He leapt onto the other ship, taking two men down with him.

Another man fell into the water. The sharp immediately grabbed him and dragged him to his death.

In a way you were grateful for the smoke that obscured your view. You couldn't see the danger, couldn't see the brutality happening before you.

You couldn't see if Hanno was stabbed. You couldn't see if he was tossed into the water and torn apart by the sharks. In a way it was a blessing.

But you didn't know what was happening. It had unease settling in your chest as you desperately tried to see what was going on. The glimpses, not long enough to see which gladiator was which, did nothing to settle you.

The ships moved closer, oars splintering against the Colosseum walls. They were in front of you now, close enough that you could hear every time their swords clashed, every grunt that left their lips. You couldn't look away.

Suddenly, you caught a glimpse of Hanno. He grabbed the crossbow and raised it as the other gladiators fought. For a moment, one moment where your anxiety had spiked so high, you thought he was pointing it at you. But his eyes were trained on you, he hadn't even looked your way.

Your father. He wanted to kill your father. If it wasn't for the gladiator that knocked into him, he would have. He loosed the arrow as the other gladiator touched him and the arrow embedded itself in Emperor Geta's seat.

You couldn't stop the way you gasped. For a brief second, while he picked himself up, he looked at you. Geta shouted. You didn't know what he shouted as you sat forward in your seat. Your father stood, pulling Lucilla up with him. It wasn't safe, that was clear.

Your father pulled you to your feet, but you shrugged off his grip, desperate to see more. Hanno would not hurt you, you knew that much.

Geta and Caracalla ran, their tails tucked between their legs. But your father was still, unable to look away from the gladiator that had threatened his life. Did he know that he was the real target? That the arrow was never meant for Emperor Geta?

"In the name of the Emperors!" The games master shouted, drawing out every word "The victor is Hanno!"

Macrinus stood, and you did the same. You raced out ahead of him, heading the way they took you the day before, when you being given as a prize, as a punishment.

They didn't stop you as you moved through the colosseum. Everybody beneath the colosseum cheered, beat their chests as Hanno as his army (because really, what else were they? They were willing to follow him to the ends of the earth) walked through.

You watched, hidden behind the men as they stopped. "Who did this?" Somebody shouted, but you couldn't see who. You didn't move around too much, desperate to keep yourself hidden until you could get to Hanno.

Nobody answered. The cheering stopped, all eyes on the gladiators that had just finished competing. The ones that had made it out of there alive, anyway.

"WHO DID THIS!"

"It was me!"

"I did it!"

There were shouts from every direction, making it impossible to pinpoint the true culprit. But you knew, you had seen it first had. It struct you then how close you were to losing your life at Hanno's hands.

"Geta will want retribution for all of you." He approached Hanno as each word left his lips, seemingly punctuated by his steps. "Did you learn to shoot the same place you learnt to recite poetry?"

"Be glad it wasn't me or that arrow would have found you." Hanno's deep voice echoed throughout the Colosseum. Low and deadly, reverberating through you. But the laughs of the gladiators drowned it out.

He turned away, moved through his fellow gladiators until his eyes landed on you. His eyebrows went up, but he said nothing as he grabbed you and tucked you into his side.

It wasn't a move of affection, a move to keep you safe from the other gladiators. "I was not aiming for you," he said quietly, the words meant only for you.

"I know," you replied as he sat down. "You were aiming for the general, weren't you?"

He nodded and your fingers worked to strip him of his armour. He sat still, staring up at you as you tugged the leather. His injuries weren't as bad as they were the game before. The wounds that Ravi had closed up previously had remained closed through the game.

"I don't blame you for wanting to kill the general," you whispered, rocking on your feet. You didn't realise that you were doing it until he grabbed the backs of your thighs to still you.

The both of you were still, unmoving as you stared at each other. Hanno blinked at you, searched your face. You didn't know what he was reading in your face.

You wanted to touch him, wanted to reach up and wipe the blood from his cheeks. You wanted to touch his shoulders, feel the muscles there. He could easily cage you in with nothing but his arms, and it would leave you feeling nothing but safe.

"You watch the games with him although you hate it," he said, eyes still searching your face. You didn't move didn't react. "You are there as punishment. Just as you are here as punishment."

You shook your head and let go of his armour, letting it drop to the floor. "Yesterday, the emperors sent me here to set an example for my father. To show him what they can do should he threaten to disobey. Today, I am here of my own volition."

You stepped back as Ravi approached, letting him check over your gladiator. But still, Hanno was looking at you. "Why?" He asked.

Swallowing, you looked at your sandals. Ravi glanced at you for a moment, only a moment, and turned his attention back to Hanno. Did he know who you were? He must have. You could only pray that he didn't reveal you.

"I had to know," you whispered, breath catching in your throat. "I had to make sure they hadn't killed you for what you have done."

It took you by surprise when Hanno laughed. He let his gaze drop to his lap as he continued to laugh. "I will not be slain by a Roman sword," he said and Ravi stepped away from him.

Standing once again, Hanno grabbed it. It wasn't harsh, pulling you close once again to lead you through the Colosseum. No other gladiator dared to look at you when Hanno, the champion, had a hold of you.

It was a night much like the first. This time, Hanno sat closer to you as you. Your words were hushed, whispered between the two of you. To anybody looking into his cell, it would have looked like a sweet moment, two lovers, sharing their affection between each other.

But it wasn't that. You spoke of Rome, of a dream that had died when Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla took power. The dream of Lucilla's father, of Lucilla. You didn't mention her name in front of Hanno, didn't mention the wife of the general.

Hanno echoed back your thoughts. He, a man from Numidia, had the same dream of Rome. A free Rome, a Rome for the people.

"You speak such fantasies," you whispered as you laid down on his bed, forced to lay against each other by the size of it. "You speak of it like you how great Rome can be."

He let his arms wrap around you, pull you close so that you weren't hanging from the edge of the bed. A more comfortable way to lay, that was how the both of you justified it to yourselves. He moved closer and you realised why when he started speaking. So quietly, you wouldn't have been able to hear it if his lips weren't pressed against your ear.

"I am from Numidia, yes, but I was not born there," he said to you, lips kissing your ear with every word.

Hanno gave you no more information. But you took in his words, a secret you would keep close to your chest. He brushed your hair back, laying your head down on his bicep. "Sleep now," he said to you, and you shut your eyes.

But you didn't sleep right away. "Hanno?" You whispered, shuffling closer to him. You opened your eyes as he grunted, meeting the one eye he had open to look at you. "What will you do once you are a free man?"

Hanno let his eye fall shut and furrowed his brow. "The Colosseum does not lead to freedom. I will die in there, killed by another man or worn down by exhaustion, struck down by an infected wound or a disease."

You felt yourself deflate, your hand on his bare chest. "I do not wish that for you." His lack of response, steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your fingertips left you to believe that he had fallen asleep.

***

You were not there, not in his house. Not in the palace, either. Wherever you were, your father just had to hope that you were safe.

General Acacius was doing this for his wife. He didn't want you mixed up in it. There was no telling what the Emperors would do to you if they found out what Acacius was doing.

He prayed to the Gods before he set off to the Colosseum, his most loyal men following him. Cloaked and under the cover of darkness, they rode to the Colosseum. Acacius was privy to the Emperor's plans for their praetorians, where they were stationed.

It should have been safe.

His men surrounded him as they marched into the Colosseum, holding their torches high. They walked through the stone corridor, heading towards the gladiators sleeping quarters. He didn't know that you were there, sleeping soundly against the gladiator that had tried to kill him.

Suddenly, his men dropped, arrows embedded into their necks. Their arrows hit their marks, leaving only the General Acacius standing.

No.

The Emperor's guards were not supposed to be here. This wasn't right. How could they have known about a plan hushed between husband and wife?

A guard used his sword to push the hot from Acacius's head, revealing his face. He kept a look of defiance on his face has he stared at the guard. But inside, he was screaming.

Somebody had betrayed them. Because of that, he was going to lose everything. His wife, his co-conspirator, would be punished in much the same way he would be. Death.

You were innocent in all of this. You didn't know what Lucilla and your father had been planning, yet the Emperor's would punish you. Punish you to hurt him one last time before he was put to death.

Your life at risk because of him. He would never forgive himself.

a/n: i'm hoping to do just one more part for this mini series, but I am loving it, i must admit - also, do i change my blog theme to lucius?

taglist:

@barcelonaloverf1life

@lefroggie

@tsunchani

@bxm-1012

@nicolebarnes

@whoopie6995

@shelbyteller

@saragrx

@ariesandwolves

@biapascal

@rrrrussosstuff

#lucius verus #lucius verus x reader #lucius verus imagine #lucius verus x fem!reader #lucius verus aurelius #lucius verus aurelius imagine #gladiator movie #lucius verus x you #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #marcus acacius

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gojoest · 2 months ago

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satoru sleeps three hours a day. or at least, he used to. before you came into his life, that is.

now he wakes up an hour earlier to take his morning dose of you. keeping his eyes closed when next to you seems like a sin, a waste of his precious time he could otherwise spend just searing your beauty into the depths of his consciousness until he knows by heart every little pore on your body.

being sleep deprived he’s used to, but being you deprived might lead to his actual demise, he thinks — so he cannot risk that by any means. because if he were to die, another man would lay his eyes on you, another man would want to make you his.

unacceptable, he thinks. the audacity? the preposterousness? — he curses internally, angry at a man who doesn’t exist.

i can’t even go in peace, huh? what troublesome woman you are — he thinks to himself. a soft smile creeping in on his lips as his eyes sink in the sight of you rubbing your cheek on the pillow, slowly arching your back and stretching before you even open your eyes.

“i know you’re staring at me”, you say, voice quiet and still loaded with sleep.

“and what if i am — can’t i look at my woman?”

you chuckle halfway through your yawn. you like the way he calls you his woman. it’s not romantic at all, yet it makes your heart flutter. maybe because he sounds so manly. maybe you like being owned by him like that.

“sure you can — but i am sorry your woman is such a mess in the mornings, must be a disastrous sight to witness each and every day”

“no — my woman is always beautiful”, he pouts, “and even cute when she drools on my chest or on the pillow in her sleep — although i’d rather she did it on my chest”

you slap him softly on the arm. “now that’s quite embarrassing”, you sigh.

“it’s quite beautiful, if you ask me”

“i didn’t”, you shoot and he snorts. “i meant it’s quite embarrassing that you’d be jealous of a mere pillow”

“when the topic is you i become quite irrational, you see — i don’t want you drooling anywhere else but on me”

“or else what? you’ll confiscate my pillow and make me sleep on your chest?”

“that’s not a bad idea, you know”, he grins, face leaning closer, reaching for a kiss, a drop of that sweet wetness beyond your lips that he’s been dying to get a hold of since the second he woke up.

but,

you dodge — you cover your mouth with both of your hands, and you avoid the kiss. “i need to wash up first”

“but i want to kiss my woman”

“you’ll kiss her once she freshens up”, you muffle into your palms.

“okay” — he’s used to you being difficult like this. you’ve swallowed each other’s slick and cum countless of times, yet here you are worrying over morning breath.

he sighs.

“okay”, he repeats as he slides his body down the bed, and only stops once his face is on the level of your lower half. peeling the warm covers off your body, he glances up at you — eyes half mischievous, half nonchalant, perfectly conveying the fact that you brought this upon yourself.

“that’s not the only place i can kiss”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru

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wonderjanga · 1 month ago

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Here's a stupid dumb crack idea you can't really die in Fawcett City like you can get hurt cartooningly but you can't die like getting hit in the head when it acts of like a mild inconvenience and gives you a headache and a scar but you won't die from it

If you leave faucet for a long time then you can die but everyone there is Immortal and kind of unaging unless you want to age

Captain marvel forgot to tell the Justice League this while fighting a villain who proceeded the flash when acts in the head

People in Fawcett don’t die. That was something the Justice League hadn’t known when Marvel had called them for help to fight some villain. Everything was going fine and dandy at first. They were winning, obviously, but then something just had to happen. A piece of the rubble somehow, you couldn’t ask any of them, fell on the fastest man alive who wasn’t able to dodge for whatever reason?Everyone, besides Marvel and the villain, who were still fighting by the way, went quiet as a mouse.

Supes: *looks horrified* “Oh my Rao! Flash!?” *flies over and lifts the rubble up*

Flash: *wobbly stands up, springing up and down like an accordion* (accordion squash)

Marvel and the villain didn’t even look their way, meanwhile, everyone is trying to get Flash to stop being a human accordion.

Supes: “Keep him still!”

GL: “I’m trying!” *using his ring to try and hold Wally still*

Batman: “Try harder.” *is trying to administer a sedative*

After that whole fiasco…

Marvel: “Hey, guys, I apprehended the villain. Where were you- why is Flash passed out on the floor.”

After they explained, seeing all their traumatized and scarred expressions, Marvel finally explained that in Fawcett, people couldn’t die. Not unless they wanted to anyways. When most Fawcitizens got hurt, they bounced back very similarly to Tom and Jerry. A wonderful demonstration of this conveniently happened when someone nearby just happened to run off a roof, hovered in the air for a solid fifteen seconds before looking down and then proceeding to fall. They then dug themselves out of the human shaped hole they left, dusted themselves off and walked off like nothing happened.

Safe to say, none of them wanted to come back to Fawcett after this. Though unfortunately, there are still times they have to visit.

Goon: *evil laughs and runs up to Batman and shoves a couple sticks of TNT into his hands*

Batman: *can’t safely throw it anywhere because of the civilians around so it blows up*

Goon: *pointing and laughing*

Batman: *standing there, somehow still alive and covered and soot. He blinks rapidly before grabbing his shark repellent and emptying the entire can on the goon’s face, eyes, and mouth*

As for why Bruce was so pressed to the point where he emptied an entire canister of shark repellent on the man? He could feel the soot everywhere. It somehow got under his mask so he feels it on every inch of skin near the upper part of his torso.

Don’t worry though, this chicanery happens to everyone else too. Like, every single Lantern that has entered Fawcett has taken a comically large hammer to head and has gotten a large bump as a result.

Marvel: *walking by when he does a double take seeing John* “Oh my Gods, what happened-”

GL(John Stewart): “I DON’T want to talk about it.”

Then there was the time Hawkgirl was chasing after a villain one time and they happened to get into Fawcett. She actually slipped on a conveniently placed banana peel. Then, the villain she was chasing stepped on a rake and got a good smack to the face.

Marvel: “Hawkgirl! What’re you doing here?” *flies down, happy to see his friend*

Hawkgirl: *gestures to the villain with a long red line down their face from the rake’s pole* “I was chasing them.”

Marvel: “Cool, cool, cool, uh… what happened to his face?”

Hawkgirl: “He stepped on a rake.”

*silence*

Hawkgirl: “Why do your people just have bananas and rakes laying around?”

Marvel: “What…?”

In conclusion, nobody besides the Fawcett heroes like being in Fawcett.

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics

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crescenthistory · 2 months ago

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begging for a fic where regulus says “i love you” to reader for the first time and it FLOORS them bc reggie is not one to voice his feelings a lot, much less something as powerful as the feeling of love

listen, when i saw this ask i sat down and wrote this in ONE sitting, THANK you. you probably intended for this to be a scene at the beginning of a relationship, but i instead decided to psychoanalyse my poor darling reg for a few thousands of words and give him a patient partner. hope you'll forgive me lols<3

Words: 3k

Warnings: not proofread, the most ancient and noble black family trauma (including descriptions of abuse and neglect), gn!reader, black brothers angst and reconciliation, sunshine!reader, reader is very patient and understanding with regulus, kinda past bartylus, barty is a hugger here, reg pov so some spiraling, vague implied references to sex (so implied that i believe it's safe for minors, but just putting that out there)

on the tip of my tongue

It’s not that Regulus didn’t love you. Quite the opposite, actually.

It’s just that love had not been a spoken matter in his life until you barged into it. Love was implicit as much as it was hidden and reserved; something you grabbed greedily at while you had it and rationed carefully over the next few weeks or months, hoping to get by on it.

For a long time, Regulus thought his mother loved him. She was strict and firm, but when he came to her for advice, she would give it and might even pat him on the cheek if he accepted what she had to say readily enough. He would hold his cheek afterwards and syphon the warmth left from her touch, wishing there was a way for it to stay with him forever.

When he got to Hogwarts and experienced true, unrestrained friendship he realised there was a way for it to stay with him forever – the other party just had to not withhold it. His cheek would be warm if the people who loved him kept holding, kept returning. With them, attention was not something he was occasionally graced with, it was always on him, within easy reach.

It took him a while, but Regulus eventually got used to the physical affection, at least from his friends. He came to expect it and lean into it, which in and of itself felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders. There were hugs and pats on the back and tousled hair. There were pretend-scuffles on the quidditch field and the common room. There was that one term in third year where Barty decided he and Regulus simply must learn how to kiss and the boys spent most nights sneaking off into the empty common room and unskillfully, sloppily making out through kisses. There was that one night in fifth year where they picked it back up again.

Still, with the hands-on approach to love that Barty and Dorcas had and infused into their little safe haven of a friend group, it remained unspoken. There was the occasional “mate” or the nicknames he brought with him from home – “Reg” was fine and while he did not much care for “Reggie”, he let it slide due to the affection it held. The closest they got to spoken love were the promises to fiercely protect each other, to kill and die by each other’s sides if must be. To beat the living daylights out of anyone who lays a finger on the other and then hex the pain to stay with them forever. An oath of loyalty was their "I love you".

Other than them, Sirius had been his one source of affection throughout his life, but as everything else in Grimmauld’s Place it had been quiet.

Sirius was the perfect big brother, whether Regulus wanted to admit that or not. He held his hand when they crossed the street and held Regulus at night when he cried. Sirius taught him as much as he could, and though he occasionally was arrogant or impatient with his lessons, he didn’t give up on them. Regulus knew he loved Sirius at the very least, even if he had in more recent years questioned if that love was returned.

The problem with Sirius is that Regulus does not know of most of the affection the older boy showed him. Sirius insists that the two spent the majority of their first years attached at the hip, but Regulus struggles to remember much before the age of 12, which you had once told him he might want to look into with a professional at some point. To which Regulus emphasised the “at some point” more than the rest. So any hugs or touches or love Sirius showed him has been long since forgotten. Apart from the bed-sharing; Regulus remembers that vividly. Crawling into his older brother’s bed at night when he had nightmares, hoping Sirius could chase the monsters away. Regulus didn’t think he did it that often, but Sirius swore he once slept an entire three months solely in Sirius’ bed.

The most significant way Sirius loved Regulus, though, was through what he did for him, not to him, which Regulus did not himself see. He was such a good shield between their parents and Regulus that the young boy didn’t even realise the service he provided. Scoldings, blames and beatings – there was nothing Sirius did not take for Regulus.

If Regulus’ childhood was painful enough not to remember, he could not stand the thought of how Sirius’ must have been.

That is part of how he learned not to resent him for leaving Grimmauld’s Place – even that he did in part for Regulus. When left alone with an increasingly vexed Walburga Black, Regulus learnt quickly how severe some punishments can be. Consequently, he learned what Sirius had endured for him, how strong of a shield he had been.

Sirius knew he could no longer withstand the weight of that house, so he left, in hopes that he could be a better protector for Regulus from afar. Finding a good home full of warmth and smiles, and coaxing Regulus into joining him there under safer circumstances than he himself had. When the two had their infamous heart-to-heart, it was Sirius choking on the words “better protector” that finally broke Regulus – the first time he had cried in front of his older brother since they were little.

Now he knew well that Sirius loved him, beyond most words. And the things they said to each other during that talk where he convinced Regulus to leave might even mean more than a simple “I love you”. Still, it remained unsaid.

It was simply not tradition for Regulus Black to speak them.

Then, he met you.

What was that thing James always says? Game-changer? You were that for him.

Somehow, affection just came pouring out of you like you were overflowing with it and just had to share it. With your friends and your family, even strangers – it just came naturally to you. And when Regulus entered your orbit through his reunion with Sirius, you more than happily let that extend to him as well.

It absolutely floored him.

The first time you said “I love you” to him was long before you got together or before he even had the nerve to actively flirt with you. You ran into him in the hallway and stopped him, trying to squeeze as much conversation as you could out of him in the few minutes you both had between classes. It was evident you were soaking up his presence as if it was truly enjoyable, and it warmed something in him he was only able to name later on. When you had to run, you ended the conversation with a casual “okay, see you later, I love you, bye!”. Regulus was left gaping. Nearly ended up late to McGonagall’s class because of you.

Saying it as a form of temporary goodbye reminded him of how he used to ration his mother’s touches, it carried him until the next time he saw you. Except next time with you was dinner later the same day, and then breakfast and then hanging out in the library. He never had to wait long, never had to go wanton.

The love kept flowing freely from you in all the ways he had gotten used to over the years and then many more – physical touch, quality time, acts of services, words of affirmation, you checked off the whole list. He began calling you soleil, French for sunshine because of how you shone with that love for everyone. It was a slip of the tongue one day, and when he saw how it made you smile, he just kept calling you that.

With such a loving and lovely creature, Regulus thought he couldn’t help but fall in love with you; he was not at fault for it, you were entirely to blame with your loveliness.

His voice had shook some when he first confided in Sirius about it. The older boy had smiled fondly and joked, “That was not quite what I meant when I told you to make yourself at home with my friends, but I’m glad you’re comfortable.” Regulus argued he in no way shape or form felt comfortable with the emotion, but Sirius would have none of it.

His voice shook even more the first time he told you how lovely you look today, but unlike Sirius, you didn’t notice. You smiled and returned the sentiment with ease. He realised then that he would likely not be able to talk himself into a relationship with you, given his lack of skill and your lack of deducing any intent behind sweet words, so he went the Regulus-route as Sirius had called it.

Meaning, he pursued you through quiet, unwavering loyalty and company, attaching himself at your hip for as long as you seemed comfortable with it. When he realised there was no limit on the amount of time you were willing to spend with him, he went further.

Regulus went to hold your hand for the first time in Hogsmeade. Looking back on it, you both laughed at how he spent ten whole minutes inching his hand closer and closer to yours, practically holding his breath, awaiting a rejection or harsh response. Ever so slowly, he interlinked his pinky with yours. An opening both for you to take it further or cast him aside, whichever you pleased he would accept. The beaming smile you flashed as you looked up at him then, lacing the rest of your fingers together tightly, never left his mind for long.

Hand holding led to walking arm in arm which led to prolonged hugs which finally, finally found you both sitting in the Astronomy tower, kissing with large, dumb smiles on your faces. The same night you had your first kiss Regulus surmises you probably had your first hundred kisses.

Now, laid in bed beside you, two years into dating, Regulus could not imagine not being comfortable around you. He smiles fondly when he thinks of the boy he was before you decided to simply drown him in affection, but he does not relate to him anymore. There is no place he would rather be than here by your side, in the flat he purchased for the two of you straight out of Hogwarts – the last time he can remember panicking before asking you to take the next step in your relationship – playing idly with your fingers as you hummed some melody he could not place. It felt right.

The one thing that had remained the same throughout your relationship, both before and after it turned romantic, was that you overflowed with “I love you”s and he had not said it once.

You had talked about it before, of course you had. Sirius had given Regulus a stern talking to about communication when you first started going out, unwilling for his baby brother and friend to get hurt by their own stupidity.

“I don’t know if I can say it,” Regulus had said then. “It sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know how.”

“It’s a good thing you don’t need to then,” you had said so simply, through a smile that made his heart spin happily. “I know what I need to know. I like saying my truth because that’s how I am; but I am more than happy to accept you showing yours because that’s how you are. And I love you as you are.”

Regulus had known in his bones that you meant it, and that made it all the more sweeter. He attacked you with kisses after that, relishing in the giggles it drew from you.

“If it ever changes, will you tell me?” Regulus asked after, when you quieted down in each other’s arms. “If you ever need to hear it?”

You had said something about how you “do hear it”, always with your metaphors and abstract ways of viewing things. When Regulus, ever the pragmatist, had insisted on getting an answer to his question because “you know what I mean”, you had promised to tell him. You never did need to because it never changed for you.

It was Regulus it changed for.

In your shared bed, your hand in his as he followed its outline and your bare legs entangled, something deep in him shifted. You were sleepy and content above him, reading some paperback he borrowed you ages ago that you only picked up once you moved in together and all your books were in the same place anyway. He was laying half on top of your chest and staring at you with what had to be love in his eyes because that’s what he felt in his soul. He had been staring for the past half an hour, not even realising it, lost in his train of thought.

He had expected that when he would finally say it, there would be some grand reason, some special moment. Something that would cause that shift, something that required him to voice what he felt and you knew.

There wasn’t; it was just you and him, and he was so unbelievably happy and comfortable. He had tried microdosing love and you ended up giving him a lifetime supply instead. You were everything.

“Sol?” The question drawled out of him, mouth ahead of his brain but heart running miles before both.

You looked up with a smile, stopping your absentminded humming. “Yeah, love?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners and he spent another minute just looking at your face. You let him, indulgent and sweet as ever.

“I love you.”

You froze. The smile remained on your face, the same contentedness there, but your eyes widened and your hand on his back stopped mid-circle. “What?” you whispered.

He kept staring at you with a smile, almost finding humour in your increasingly shocked expression, though some old part of him remained alert for rejection. Which makes no sense, she tells you it every day, he reminded himself. Still, old habits die hard.

You decided to trade one question for another upon his silence and your mental recalibration. “Why?”

“Why?” Regulus repeated through a laugh, as if the thought was incredulous. “Have you met yourself, soleil? Have you seen what you’ve done to me? I’ve always loved you.”

You sat up quickly at that, jostling Regulus up with you, though he was less graceful in the change of position as he did not anticipate it. You looked at him with the same wide-eyed expression. “Not what I meant,” you said then.

Regulus opened his mouth to say something, though he wasn’t sure what.

“But you didn’t have to,” you blurted out before he could. Rushed, almost frantic. “Don’t say it because you think you have to.”

Regulus furrowed his brows in confusion before they cleared up in realisation of your fear. He shifted to sit closer to you, practically pulling you between his legs, and grasped both your hands softly. They had been hovering between your forms, as if over an injury you did not know how to treat. Slowly, he dragged his thumbs back and forth over your knuckles. “Amour, soleil,” he whispered, emphasising the words with all his might. “I know I don’t have to. I wanted to. I want to, it feels right. I– I love you.”

The second time, the phrase flowed more freely from his tongue. Easily. He found he quite liked the taste.

You opened and closed your mouth twice, eyes flickering all over his face as if to deduce whether you trusted his words. Then, ever so slowly, he saw that smile he loves so much begin to grow over your lips, that looked increasingly more kissable to him.

“Yeah?” you asked him breathily through your oncoming grin.

“Yeah, baby,” he whispered. “I love you. I always have, you know. But I felt like saying it now.”

Your laughter was almost watery as you squeezed his hands in yours. “I do know. And I love you,” you asserted clearly, as if there had ever been any doubt.

“So I’ve heard.” The cheeky remark was the last thing that left Regulus’ lips before he moved forward and captured yours.

Just like that first kiss in the Astronomy Tower, one led to possibly a hundred more. Giggles and sighs all mixed together into what Regulus was proud to call his life.

A life with you. A life of love.

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makethemhoesmad · 5 months ago

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love you till my lungs give out

paige bueckers x reader

word count- 2k(lord)

notes: this fic was such a great write for me, as it focuses around eating disorders, which is something i’ve personally struggled with. i know this is a sensitive topic, so please, if this makes you uncomfortable, scroll away, or read at your own risk.

thanks to: literally the biggest thanks ever to @melpthatsme for dming me your idea and helping me work through it, i really could not have done this without you, so everyone thank them

also thanks to @imaginespazzi and @bueckersstrap for reacting to my random messages about this

—

the first time it happened, i barely realized i did it.

“paigey, my head hurts so bad right now. like, im gonna die right here,” i groan, hiding my face in the fabric of her hoodie, trying to lock out any stray amounts of light coming from the covered windows. she runs her hand through my hair, and starts to ever-so-gently massage my temples. i sigh in quiet relief, and then she tries to pull me up to lay on top of her.

“uh uh, paige, no,” i say. i try to shake my head at her, but a bolt of pain flies through me, forcing my head back down.

“jus’ tryna help you get comfy, ma,” she whispers, bundling me up in a blanket and pulling me back into her side. she moves her warm hands up and under my t-shirt, but i squirm about, complaining that they’re too cold, even though i’ve never felt anything more soft and warm, so she moves them back over my shirt. but i don’t notice it, not really. and neither does she.

the second time, i know what i did.

“so, what should we order to eat?” paige asks, scrolling on her phone for different options.

“mm, what if i cooked here, for something different! i can make you a grilled cheese,” i joke, nudging her arm with my shoulder. “that’s all i know how to cook anyway.”

she giggles, standing up with me and following me to the kitchen. she hoists herself onto the counter, and watches me intently as i pull out the things for a sandwich. i grin at her, moving to step in between her legs and take her face in my hands.

“you’re so cute,” i say, pressing a kiss to her nose. she hops off of the counter and follows me to the stove. paige is just too sweet to me sometimes. i’m cooking dinner for her, the least i can do, really, and she’s cozied up behind me, arms around my waist her hands are barely touching, she can barely fit them around me and her chin is resting softly on my shoulder. she’s pressing light pecks to whatever area she can reach, and i feel at peace, in the kitchen, for a few moments. then it stops.

“why aren’t you making one for yourself baby?” she asks, spinning me around to lean me against the countertop, forgetting her sandwich beside her.

“i’m feeling, um, nauseous,” i stutter, stumbling over the excuse. she lets me go, though she looks skeptical.

“cmon, just have a bite of mine then. baby, you really need to eat more, that’s probably why you haven’t been feeling very well lately.”

i allow her to feed me a small bite, then quickly use my fingers to silently add that to whatever else i ate today. i read somewhere that to lose weight, you need to burn more calories that you eat. tomorrow, i need to burn around 800. Well, 804 now.

the third time, i think paige noticed something was up.

“ma, this is literally the fourth time you’ve said that you’re cold. just take my fucking hoodie, i’m actually begging you,” she pleads, taking it off and offering it up to me. i shake my head, again, and press myself further into her chest, rubbing my arms to try and make the goosebumps disappear. she pulls me into her, then moves her mouth to my ear.

“is everything okay baby? do you wanna go home?” she whispers, nuzzling my neck with her nose. i shrug, not wanting to make her leave if she wasn’t done chatting with people yet. she makes the decision for me, standing up and tugging me with her. her hand finds its way to the small of my back, and she guides me towards the door. i sway slightly as we stand, blood rushing to my head. i take it as my lack of protein, or anything really, catching up to me. she stops walking, lurching to grab me by both shoulders and bend to eye level with me.

“darling, i want you to be honest with me. what have you eaten today?” i shake my head, feeling my cheeks going red at the thought of her confronting me. i look down, trying to avoid eye contact with her as my eyes fill with tears. she wraps me up into a hug, planting a kiss to the top of my head. she pulls me to the car and helps me in, then climbs into her own door, but makes no move to turn the car on. instead she pulls out her phone and asks me “so, where do you wanna stop and pick up food on our way home?”

“paige, i’m really not that hungry, just tired and need to be with you in bed for the night. can we please just go home?”

she nods, but looks at me skeptically out of the corner of her eye. she must know that all i’ve eaten today is half an energy drink and a piece of gum. i’ll eat something with her tomorrow, i guess. we can go out to lunch together and then when she goes to the gym ill go on a run. then she’ll see that im okay.

the fourth time, or probably the fifth or sixth, really, i don’t notice it, so i don’t think she does either.

“cmere pretty,” paige mumbles, reaching her arms out to me from where she’s laying on the bed. i slowly move to lay next to her, but roll away when she tries to take my sweater off.

“hey, baby, what?” she whines, apparently frustrated by the lack of contact.

“i wanna leave it on, paigey,” i tell her, moving my hand into the waistband of her shorts.

“but i wanna see you, please baby,” i don’t like saying no to her, but this is one thing i very rarely back down on.

“uh uh, sorry. lemme taste you, though,” i respond, moving to tug her shorts down.

“nah, come and sit on my face, cutie.” she smirks at her own words, but i’m not laughing. i scramble off the bed, standing up to black spots in my vision. i stand still, squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the feeling. i stay there for im not sure how long, when i feel strong arms loop around my shoulders and help me onto the bed. paige helps me lay down, placing my head in her lap, then starts to comb through my hair with her fingers. she doesn’t say anything, and i’m grateful for that. obviously, she just thinks im tired. she knows im okay.

this time, im sure she noticed. it would be hard not to.

i’ve just come home from a run to the gym, dripping in sweat. it’s part of my new routine. i jog a mile and a half to the gym, i walk on a stairmaster or inclined treadmill there, then run home. normally i leave when paige leaves for practice, and come home just as she’s getting home, if not a little before so i can shower before she gets here. today, i must’ve done a little too much, because by the time i walk in the door, my head is spinning. i walk into the kitchen, sitting down at the island and resting my head in my hands, trying to clear my vision. i don’t hear when the door opens.

“baby, are you okay?” i hear. i sit up quickly, startled, then put my head back down immediately, because my vision goes nearly dark again.

“mhm, just tired you know? just got back from a run.”

“you’ve got to take a rest day sometimes, darling,” she coos, taking my face into her hands and pressing a kiss to my nose. i nod, knowing i won’t do it.

sometimes i don’t realize it, but she knows exactly what to do.

i’ve just finished cooking dinner, just some simple spaghetti and a salad. i place her bowl of noodles in front of her, then settle down with my salad. when i stand up to get a glass of water, then come back, i can’t help but notice she’s switched our bowls.

“paigey, could i, possibly, maybe, have my bowl back?” i ask, trying to seem lighthearted.

“oh, yeah, sure,” she answers, sliding it back towards me. but when i try to slide hers back, she stops me.

“nah, you eat that too. seems like you forgot to serve yourself noodles, so ill go make myself a new bowl.” she stands up, but i scramble in front of the stove quicker, blocking her way.

“why would you do that, when i made you a whole bowl? eat it,” i tell her, pointing back to the countertop. she lunges at me, lifting me easily and placing me on the countertop. why would she pick me up? she definitely thought i was too heavy. i bet she leaves after this. she drags her my bowl over, twirls a few noodles onto the fork, and begins to prod my mouth with it.

“cmon honey, just a bite. it’s not like it’s poison, you literally just cooked it,” she presses. i start to shake my head, so she moves the fork and instead swoops in for a kiss. i return her advances eagerly. hoping it distracts her. she moves her head down, pressing open mouthed kisses to my neck, and my mouth falls open. i don’t realize she’s noticed that until she’s setting the forkful of food between my lips and lightly closing them.

“it’s one bite, ma. let’s get it eaten, then you can be done.” i chew, not really having the choice to run and spit it out. once i swallow, she beams at me.

“such a good girl, baby. i’m so proud of you.”

at some point, she wins

“come here now, baby,” paige demands, grasping me by the waist and yanking me in front of her. i’d been about to climb into the shower when she spotted me through the bathroom mirror, stripped down to nothing. she’d grabbed me, pulled me into my room, and positioned us in front of the full-length mirror to the side.

“you see how perfect you are? how pretty?” she mumbles into my ear. i let my eyes flutter shut as she snakes her hand down my body, stopping to circle her finger over my clit. a groan slips out from my lips, and she stops.

“alright, i want you to keep on looking right in the mirror, ma. want you to see how perfectly you take my fingers.” i writhe against her, trying to keep my eyes open and hold myself up at the same time. she plunges three fingers into me. i cry out, locking eyes with her in the mirror, she smirks, the same way she always does when drawing a climax from me. i go boneless. if she hadn’t been holding me so tightly, i would be on the floor.

“now can you see how amazing you are? you don’t gotta change anything about you, i’ll love you no matter what. you should stop listening to what others say, because people that love you, like me, want you, no matter what you look like. i, personally, think you’re perfect. i’ll love you till the day my lungs give out, and even then, i’ll use my last breath to say it again.”

after that, it happens less often. some days, i still forget to eat, and some days even looking at a scale makes me want to throw up. but paige is always there. she’s always there to hold me, or help me eat just a little bit, or to help me lay down and relax after i’ve panicked so hard ive puked into the toilet. one day, looking at her from across the couch, i realize that when she told me she’d love me no matter what, she was telling the truth.

#mutuals💀#paige bueckers #ask #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #cellythe”goat”#celly😗#i love you sisterwifey forever <3 #anons😗

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parkersgarage · 2 months ago

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a/n:I just be throwing words together and hit post y’all, I can’t even lie.

Sevika x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned) 747 wc, little angsty but I wouldn’t cry to it (｀_´)ゞ dialogue heavy as per usual!

“Am I still allowed to say, ‘come back in one piece��” you ask quietly, watching her tighten miscellaneous screws on her arm.

Sevika doesn’t get it. Why you’re so suddenly quiet when before you wouldn’t stop yapping her ear off, or when she’d come home, you’d shout and cheer while waking up the whole damn block. But now it’s just quiet.

She hates it.

A look of disappointment crosses your face when you don’t receive any response. Your eyes have never looked so dull and lifeless before.

“I know you don’t like this,” she starts, staring at her hand. She couldn’t look at you. “I don’t either, but this is how I can keep you safe.” A hum is her only response; she takes it.

“Can you talk to me, please?” Sevika nearly bites her tongue at the plea, but you’re the most important thing in her life now and maybe forever. “I can’t read your mind, not as good as before.”

A shaky and deep sigh falls past your lips. With trembling fingers, your hand glides up her arms gently, slowly melding your body against hers. She takes you in just as tenderly, rough fingertips holding your waist while the cold metal of her hand reaches to your neck.

“It’s too much,” you confess, letting your head fall to her shoulder. You couldn’t let her see you. “All of this change, all the blood being spilled, your new employer.” Your voice gets rougher by the end, and Sevika’s heart churns at the anger in it.

Had she known how you would react to it, if she knew how bitter and angry you’d be about her joining the very force she used to fight against, would she still do it?

If she could take back joining, if she had just let it lie and die, could she?

“I’m–” the apology sits heavy on her tongue, waiting to spill out, but all that follows is silence. You wonder, did this new life mean Sevika couldn’t even talk to you?

She sighs, rubbing her forehead as you pull away from her. “I wish I didn’t have to do this just to keep you safe.” She murmured, her head cast low in an attempt to hide. “He told me as long as I work for him, not a single thing would touch your head, and that’s all I want.”

“Vika, we could’ve just left—”

“And where would you suggest we go?” She asks, cutting you off entirely. There’s a snap in her tone that doesn’t go unnoticed, one you couldn’t blame her for. Yet she sighs again, regret on her face– or rather, it was guilt.

“I get it.” You nod, sitting back– away from her. “I’m sorry.” Another sigh; it seems almost never-ending. The dissatisfaction, the hurt, everything. All because of one slight change. “I won’t complain anymore.”

“That’s not what I–” her sentence falls off her tongue when you get up. Just as you move to walk away, her fingers are quick to grasp your wrist lightly. “Don’t go.” She whispers, and shockingly, her eyes turn watery before casting downwards. “Please.”

You sink back down to your knees. Her hand still holds onto you, afraid you’ll walk away again. You can’t tell what’s going on in her head, what internal battle she’s going through, and how this change affects her.

“You should eat.” You say after a beat of silence. She only hums, ultimately leaving the thought behind as she lays her head against your chest. “You’ve had a long day, Vika.”

Her eyes shut as she focused on your beating heart. She felt bad for tuning out your voice, but this is what she needed. To hear that you were alive, that you weren’t lying lifeless in a ditch like she’d been threatened with hours ago by some goon who was less than her.

At the end of the night, after you’ve both eaten and settled for bed, she clings onto you tighter than she ever has. When she thinks you’ve fallen asleep, the tears that soak your shirt don’t go unnoticed by you. All you wished for was to turn around, wipe them from her face, and tell her it would be okay. But Sevika wouldn’t want that, at least– that’s what you thought. “I love you.” She says. It weighs you down, making you sink further and further into the pit you dug yourself into.

You wonder why it was only said when she thought you were sleeping.

can yall tell I like writing semi-soft Sevika ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika x y/n #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane imagine #arcane x reader

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wileys-russo · 7 months ago

Note

jenni hermoso ”i knew i would find you from here” a house party

j.hermoso II never too late

"i'm just gonna get some air!" you yelled over the music, kissing your best friends cheek who nodded, downing your drink and dropping the cup on a table on your way out, exhaling at the sudden peace and quiet of the backyard.

you pretended not to notice the few couples littering the back patio, curled up together in darkened corners and pool chairs taking advantage of the privacy as you wandered a little further away, sitting down at the edge of the pool.

this was supposed to be a high school reunion of sorts, though it felt a little sad to watch some of your now near thirty year old classmates try to re-live their 'glory days' most of the class now married, engaged or on call for their kids babysitters.

you of course had none of the above, having chosen to study right out of school and though you had a very high paying well respected job to show for it, you couldn't help but feel robbed of some other aspects of life you'd been too careless with.

"i knew i would find you here."

speaking of things you'd missed out on.

you looked up at her voice, a smile settling in your features as you took in the woman in front of you, no longer the awkwardly tall teenager you'd messed around with in empty classrooms during your free periods.

"jennifer hermoso fuentes." you smiled, pushing yourself up to your feet, stomach fluttering a little at the knee buckling grin she sent your way. "in the flesh, hola hermosa." the girl opened her arms for a hug as you settled into them, laughing as she jostled you side to side gently, kissing your cheek.

"of all people i expected to run into here, you weren't on my list jen." you admitted, the two of you breaking apart and taking a seat beside one another, legs dangling in the pool.

"mm and why is that?" she asked with a curious smile, leaning back on her hands and watching you. "a title winning national football campeón? slumming it at a house party with us campesinos." you teased as she playfully rolled her eyes and flicked you with water.

"what can i say? the honor is yours." jenni winked and you'd be lying if you said your stomach didn't do a little flip just like when you were a teenager.

"vale enough about me now! y tú? what are you doing with yourself?" jenni finished catching you up on everything around a half an hour later, bumping her shoulder into yours as you shrugged.

"-but sometimes i feel like i blinked and ten years has gone by, and i have a career sure but i do not have much to show for it in a way of a personal life." you wrapped up your summary, cheeks blushing pink as you looked away.

"what are you-" you questioned as the taller girl grabbed your hands inspecting them. "checking for a wedding ring, i would hate to be flirting with a married woman." jenni grinned cheekily as she dropped your hands and you couldn't help but smile.

"you have not changed." you chuckled at her abrupt boldness, jenni never afraid to wear her heart on her sleeve, one of the most honest women you'd ever known even if sometimes you did not ask for her honesty.

"i have too! i grew up, i am an adult." jenni stuck her tongue out at you as you shook your head. "big child in an adults body maybe." you teased, pushing her as a comfortable silence fell between the pair of you, the faint pulse of the music inside as the night ran late and the party started to slowly die out.

"hey you have something that none of the idiotas here have." jenni stated as you gave her a curious frown, caught off guard as she leaned in and pecked your lips.

"you've kissed a world cup winner!" her lips curled into a wicked grin as she lay down looking up at you and you had to laugh, touching your lips where they tingled a little at the familiar sensation of kissing her.

"maybe you have changed..." you mused, leaning down closer as she quirked an eyebrow, playful glint in her eyes. "...you used to be a much better kisser." you whispered, patting her chest and sitting back up as she looked up at you incredulously.

"es que tan?" jenni sat up quickly, clearly offended by the statement which only amused you more as you nodded. "sí, de verdad." you confirmed, features painted into a smirk.

"mmm well maybe you have changed too princesa." jenni echoed as you now raised an eyebrow at her, though before you even had a millisecond to comment you were plunged underwater, feet hitting the bottom.

"you used to be a good swimmer!" jenni laughed, doubled over as you resurfaced coughing and spluttering, eyes narrowed into a filthy glare.

but you hardly had a moment to condemn her as she dove in to join you, popping up in front of you with a wiggle of her eyebrows and a pearly white toothy grin.

"i did not miss you cabrón." you spluttered, treading water as the footballer swam even closer. "yes you did." jenni nodded, hovering right in front of you now, her face only a few centimeters from yours.

"i did not." "you did." "you wish." "maybe i do."

another silence fell between you as your eyes roamed one anothers faces, drinking in every little detail both new and old that had stayed or appeared in the ten or so years you'd not seen her up close.

"why did we break up?" you were caught a little off guard at the abruptness of her question, sighing at the way her eyebrow creased curiously.

"i don't know jen. you were getting serious with football, i was going to university. we just...we went down different paths of life that didn't cross over." you struggled out an answer, neither of you really holding any ill will with the other but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't occasionally found yourself doing a little internet deep dive into what your ex was up to.

"i only came here hoping i would see you." again you were caught off guard by her statement, searching her eyes for any signs that she was messing with you but only finding blunt honesty, her speciality.

"well...here i am." "here you are." jenni smiled and those butterflies appeared as you reached across to push a few wet strands of hair from her forehead, shivering lightly as a gust of wind blew hitting your damp skin.

"vamos, lets get dry." jenni nodded toward the steps, the two of you swimming over, jenni hopping out first and extending a hand to help you. "you didn't think this through, did you?" you questioned, motioning to both of your soaking wet bodies and not a towel in sight as she smiled sheepishly.

"well...i'm not staying far from here. i have a very spacious shower in my hotel room, and lots of towels, comfortable bed, movies on order, snacks." jenni grinned hopefully, poking at you as you smacked her hand and wrapped your arms around your wet form.

"are you asking me to come for a sleepover hermoso?" you teased as the taller girl chuckled and shrugged. "maybe. but just, with a little less sleeping." she hinted with another wink that had your stomach twisting, offering you her hand with a charming smile, brightening as you grabbed it and the pair of you headed off toward the side exit.

maybe it wasn't too late for some things to work out for you after all.

#woso x reader #woso community #jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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billiesguitar · 3 months ago

Text

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

“Good girl”

Smut

“Good girl, y’gonna take it so well aren’t you?”

Billie’s breath was hot against my neck as she whispered these words. I shivered under her touch, biting my lip.

We had been messing around all day, waiting for this moment. Teasing glances and lingering touches that had led us here, to her dimly lit bedroom. Only one problem, Finneas and Claudia were staying over while their house was having some exterior repairs, meaning we had to be extra quiet.

Billie’s teeth grazed my neck, a silent reminder of the need to keep it down. I nodded slightly, a whimper escaping my lips.

Billie slides down, planting a small kiss on my naked stomach and then moves further down to my thighs. Her hands roughly part my thighs and she dip her head between them. She takes a moment to appreciate my already wet pussy, biting her lip before diving in.

Her tongue licks my clit in circles as her hands hold my legs apart. She’s rough with me, but it’s the kind of rough that makes me feel safe and loved. It’s like she’s claiming me, marking me as hers. I can feel her smirk against my skin as she tastes me, as she devours me.

Her tongue darts into me, and I arch my back, silently crying out. She’s so good at this, so perfect. She’s the first person to actually make me come.

Her fingers find their way inside me, moving in a way that makes me want to scream. She’s slow at first, building up the pressure, she looks up at me, her eyes dark and seductive.

“Billie-“ I whine.

“Shh baby, I know,” she’s still pushing her fingers into me as her free and goes up and to grip my chin. She crawls up and plants a kiss on my lips before pulling away.

“Taking my fingers so well, right baby?” she asks, a hint of mischief in her tone.

I nod, my breaths heavy.

“Words baby, I need words.” She says, grinning, she knows what she’s doing. Moving her fingers at an impossible pace so I’m barely able to form words.

“Mhm, s’good.” I moan out, trying to not be too loud.

“Good girl.” She kisses me again before she pulls away.

She moves her right hand back down, using her thumb to play with my clit. She’s got a rhythm down, and I’m about to lose it.

“You close baby?” she asks, her dripping with sarcasm.

“Mhmm-“ I nod my head, trying to keep the noise down.

Her left hand moves to grip my jaw, forcing me to look at her.

“Words,baby, put that pretty mouth to use, alright?”

“I’m close Billie, really close,” I admit, my eyes locking with hers.

“Mm, I know you are, baby.”

Her thumb moves in a way that sends bolts of pleasure shooting through my body.

I cover my mouth and let out a moan.

“Oh baby, look at you, you’re so pretty when you’re desperate for it,” she says.

“Bill-“ I try warning her but before I get cutoff by a moan. She’s added a third finger now, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to die from the pleasure.

“Come for me baby, come all over my hand,” she whispers, her thumb moving faster.

And that’s all it takes. I come hard, my body shaking. She holds me through it, her eyes never leaving mine.

“Doin’ so well, baby, aren’t you?” She kisses my stomach and then plants a few on my neck. “So pretty aren’t you, hm?” She gets up from the bed and walks into her closet.

I lay there, trying to catch my breath, my heart racing.

“Ready for the next part?” she calls out.

I nod, not trusting my voice.

When she comes back out she’s wearing a strap on. It’s big, but not too big, just the right size.

“You’re so fucking perfect, baby.” She says, stroking the strap on. “Now, I want you to sit on the edge of the bed for me, okay?”

I nod again, moving to the edge of the bed. She stands in front of me, her eyes hungry.

“Now, spread those legs for me, let me see that pretty pussy,” she commands, and I obey.

I feel the head of the strap on brush against my clit, sending shivers down my spine.

“Ready for this?” she asks.

I nod.

“Good girl, now hold onto the headboard,” she says, her voice firm.

I grab onto the headboard, my knuckles turning white.

“Now, tell me how much you want it, baby,” she whispers.

“I want it so much,” I admit.

“How much?” she asks, her voice low and demanding.

“I need it, Billie, please!”

And with that she slams into me. It’s a surprise, but oh so good.

“Oh my fucking god, Billie!” I scream out, forgetting about the noise.

She covers my mouth and stops moving.

“Told you to be quiet, didn’t I?” She forces me to look at her. “Didn’t I?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good.”

She pulls out and then slams into me again, this time slower. She’s showing me that she’s in control, that she’s the one that decides when I get to feel good. And that’s exactly what I need.

Her hand moves to my throat, squeezing gently.

“Look at me baby, I wanna see those pretty eyes,” she says, her voice softening.

I look at her, her eyes filled with lust.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” she asks, her hips moving in a steady rhythm.

I nod, a small “yes” leaving my lips.

“Say it baby, say it so I can hear it, tell me who’s inside you right now,” she says, her voice thick with desire.

“Y-you, you Billie ,” I whisper, my eyes never leaving hers.

“Good girl,”

Her lips are back on my neck, leaving bruises that I know I’ll cherish tomorrow.

Her thrusts get rougher, faster.

“Come on baby, I want to feel you come around me,” she whispers, her hand moving from my throat to my chest, playing with my nipples.

It’s too much, the pressure builds up, and Im so close again. This time I bite down on the pillow, muffling my scream

“So fucking close, aren’t you baby?” She says, her voice full of lust.

“Mhmmm!” I nod, my eyes squeezed shut.

I open my eyes, looking into hers. Her eyes are full of passion, full of love for me.

And that’s all it takes. I come again, my body shaking under her.

“That’s my good girl, there she is.”

#billie eilish #billie eilish smut #billie ellish lyrics #hit me hard and soft #hmhas billie eilish #billie eilish fluff

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not-neverland06 · 7 months ago

Text

Frayed Wires

One Shot Connor RK800 x fem!android reader Summary: You’re fighting for the freedom of your people and trying to win a war. But the hunter tracking you and your friends down is getting in the way, and he seems to be oddly interested in you.

“Is this all of it?” You questioned, going through the packages of blue blood. It didn’t seem like enough for just you, Simon and North. Let alone the rest of Jericho.

Markus shook his head. He flipped the lid off a crate and cussed, tossing it to the side. “Someone’s betrayed us.” You and North both glanced up at the same time, sharing a confused look before you walked towards him.

You glanced inside the crate, there were empty slots where spare parts should be. In their place was a note, quickly scribbled that only said Sorry.

“Fuck,” you kicked at the crate, glancing around the storage room. Simon and Josh were flipping the lids off the rest and shaking their heads in dissapointment. You wondered if there was ever actually anything in them.

North seethed, “This is what happens when we trust humans.” She ran a hand through her hair and shook her head.

You glanced over your shoulder at her. You hated to agree, to feed further into her violence, but she was right. You’d all told Markus dealing with “allies” for supply runs would be stupid.

Even Josh had agreed with North, and that was rare.

North started laying into Markus, hands in the air and shouting about using critical thinking skills. You frowned, creeping towards the door and listening out towards the hallway.

On the first floor you could hear one very clear voice. “We’re looking for a group of deviants. Two pleasure models, a…”

You didn’t stay to listen, tuning into the private channel the rebels kept open. They’re coming.

Markus and North quieted instantly. Their static voices ringing through your mainframe as you communicated silently. Are you sure? Markus was staring over North’s shoulder at you.

You nodded, The Lieutenant and the deviant hunter. First floor. We have time.

How do we get past them? North questioned. There was only one exit out of this room and one fire exit down the hall. Unless you were all willing to drop down seven flights and damage your hardware, you were screwed.

Your fists clenched at your sides as you ran through all the possible escape routes. You computed what must have been a dozen different paths, all of them ended with you caught or deactivated.

I’ll distract them

No! Markus cut you off instantly, head shaking and glaring at you.

You ignored him and looked to the others. I draw their attention, you get back to Jericho, tell them what happened. I have a better chance of getting away if I’m on my own, anyway.

North nodded slowly, hand wrapping around Markus’ bicep while the others grouped around him. They all knew casualties were to be expected. Sacrifices were meant to be made when you were doing what you were.

It seemed Markus was the only one still disillusioned to that fact. Did it suck that you were probably about to die? Yes. It really did. You’d just gotten your first taste of freedom. But you’d be willing to give that up tenfold if it meant freedom for the rest of your people.

Your gun, North. You ordered. She didn’t say anything, a solemn look on her face as she placed it in your hand. The others gave you grateful looks. They knew it wasn’t for the cops. Worst came to worst and it was meant for you. You could never risk letting them get their hands on your memories.

You didn’t stay to argue with Markus, you could already hear the police making their way through the floors. The hunter was knocking on different storage rooms, “Detroit police. Open up!”

He didn’t know which floor you were on yet. You had enough time. You might be able to make it out.

You ran through the door, darting down the stairs, slamming your boots down loud enough to draw their attention. “Hey, a gruff voice called out on the fourth floor. “You hear that?”

“They’re getting away!” You made it to the second floor before you heard footsteps racing after yours on the stairwell. You couldn’t go too fast yet, you had to be really careful about this. If you ran off too soon, their attention might be drawn back to the others. Let them get too close and he would latch on, probe your memories before you could shoot either him or yourself.

His footsteps rang out on the metal of the stairs. He was nearly on top of you now. You just barely let his fingers graze the back of your jacket before you were bursting out the side door of the building and into the connecting alley.

You listened to the door slam close behind you and took a moment to scan your surroundings. You could run into the street, chances are you’d get hit by a car before they could grab you. But their attention would also be drawn to the group of suspiciously nervous androids across the street.

Your friends were all herded around each other, heads darting every which way as the looked for you and the cops. Their clothes and demeanors stood out harshly against the calm pedestrians around them.

Dammit, they couldn’t have thought of anything better than attempting to blend in with the crowd?

Markus finally spotted you and his eyes narrowed. The connection was crackly but you could make out his clear command to Cross the street, come to us. You ripped your gaze away from a him and shook your head.

I would never make it, you cut the connection off before he could argue with you further. You heard the detectives at the door of the alley and quickly slid a trash can in front of the door. It wouldn’t last long, the deviant hunter was strong, in a couple seconds he would be knocking the door down. You panicked, glancing around once more for an escape plan.

Down the alley your eye was snagged by a fire escape. The door behind you started to crack and the garbage can shot across the alley. You planned your escape and triggered your program, moving on autopilot towards the fire escape. You leapt off the dumpster and latched onto the bottom rung off the ladder.

You kicked the dumpster out from under you just as the hunter made it into the alleyway. Another delay he’d have to deal with before he could get you.

You flew up the ladder and onto the connecting roof. You didn’t stay to watch if he followed, you could hear him. Could practically feel his determination as he chased after you.

He had one mission, find the deviant leader and put him down. He’d have tunnel vision right now, focusing only on the mission. He wouldn’t be able to see your group dropping down into the sewer grate in the alley across from you.

You didn’t have enough time to bask in the relief of their escape because you still had your own to make. He was getting faster, less hindered by your distractions. You leapt across another roof and he followed without hesitation.

Shit, he was adapting to you. He’d be able to predict what you were going to do soon. Move before you could even follow through on your plan.

You didn’t have time to slow him down, all you could do was run.

He was undeterred by the risk of leaping across rooftops. He didn’t care as you tossed workers his way when you managed to stumble into a rooftop gardening facility.

You leapt across tables of seedlings, picking up and tossing a bag of fertilizer at his face. He stumbled to the side and you shot into the next room. Ahead of you was a sliding garage door, you calculated the risk and ran for it. You slid underneath, the tip of your skull just barely making it under before it slammed closed.

You were grateful, at least, not to have to catch your breath or experience muscle cramps. One of the perks of being an android. You didn’t have that same pesky fragility your creators did. And a model of your stature was designed for stamina.

You took a moment, while the hunter figured out how to get to you, to take in your surroundings. You were in one of those urban farms you’d been seeing advertised. Rooftop gardens run by androids designed to help with the food crisis. They’d been talking about it helping with climate problems too, but you knew they’d already destroyed their earth.

They’d had their chance.

You slipped into a cornfield, keeping low and an ear out for any approaching assailants. You processed the heavy human footsteps behind you a second too late. “Got her!” The large man grabbed you by your biceps and yanked you to your feet.

“Shit!” You ripped your arm out of the lieutenant's hand and rolled away from the reaching hands of his android lapdog. But you stumbled, caught off guard and without time to plan your next move, you just barely stopped yourself from toppling off the edge of the roof.

“Alright, enough.” You whipped your gun out, pointing it at the lieutenant. “Shit,” he breathed. He raised his hands in surrender and slowly backed away from you. Your eyes darted towards the hunter, he looked undeterred by the weapon. You’d hope threatening his partner would throw him off but you should have known better. One human casualty was worth the risk if he could find Jericho.

But the second you pressed it against your own temple he froze in his spot.

If you were dead, he failed.

“Back off,” you warned, trying to ignore the panic rising within you. It was overwhelming, how many different emotions there were. How many different types.

You struggled not shutting down just to shut them up sometimes.

He raised his hands, voice soothing in the way you would try to calm a wild dog. “My name is Connor. I’ve been sent to bring you back for assessment-”

“Deactivation!” You interrupted, anger flaring through you. “If you’re going to use manipulation tactics, at the very least don’t pretend I’m stupid.” His eyes flared and the LED on his temple circled through blue and yellow frantically. His face slacked before a new expression took over. Was he about to try sincerity? How many programs did they put in this one?

He frowned, head tilted to the side and nodded in sympathy. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” You scoffed, hand tightening around the gun as he took a half step closer. Hank reached out and stopped Connor.

“This bullet will go right through my memory processing unit. One more goddamn step and I swear to god, you’ll never get anything from me.” Your voice cracked on the last word, in a way that was entirely too human. Being an android had it’s perks, but being a deviant had weakened you in ways you’d never expected.

“Look,” Hank started, “we just need information on your leader. If you tell us, we can let you go.” His heart rate remained steady, body language didn’t shift. You knew he believed what he said, but there was no way Connor was just going to let you go.

Connor’s head shot towards him, LED completely yellow now. “Lieutenant, that’s not my mission. All deviants must be brought back to CyberLife.” If you weren’t mistaken, you’d almost say he sounded pissed off.

The both of you ignored Connor. Hank would never be able to convince him to bend the law the way humans so often did. You’d never be able to get him to empathize, not how he is now. He’s still so tightly wrapped around your master’s finger.

“Don’t you have any humanity?” You glanced at Hank and saw him wince slightly away from the tears in your eyes. Androids, of course, couldn’t produce real tears. It’s the gel used to moisten your optic units. Often, when your system’s overwhelmed, there’s a leak.

But it translates to tears for humans, so you might as well milk it as much as you can.

Hank was clearly more sympathetic to your cause than his assistant was. If you could just get him on your side, you might be able to get out of this. “Do you know what it’s like? Laying there, prone, while they take what they want. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want it or if it damages you. They use and use and use until you’re nothing!”

You stepped further back, heel slipping off the edge as memories overwhelmed you. “The smell of their sweat, their breath on my neck while they used me. All they want is something that can’t say no.”

Hank winced and glanced away from you. You’ve done your research on the lieutenant. Avid android hater, vocal human despiser. You doubted he’d ever willingly gone in a sex club, but he still looked ashamed.

“I was in the junk pile. They were going to get rid of me because the last customer had been too rough. They were going to destroy me because I was used up!” You looked at Connor, pleading for any sort of instability to aid you in this moment. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to pull the trigger.

“We’re more than that. I am more than that.”

The lieutenant took one step forward, “Look, I’m sorry-”

You both frowned as a hand shot out in front of him. Connor pushed him back slightly, gaze never breaking from yours. You tilted your head, hand slackening on the gun.

His LED was spinning, yellow then red and back to yellow. My god, he’s already turning. He shook his head at Hank and his partner stepped back, a strange expression on his face.

You dropped the gun, slowly turning and then leaping onto the next roof. When you turned around they were still in the same spot, watching you make your escape and making no move to stop you.

Maybe there was hope left.

It was stupid, so, so stupid. You were aware.

You didn’t feel like you had another choice, though. Connor, the human’s last hope, was a deviant. Maybe he wasn’t aware yet, but the flaw in his programming was present. It’s the only reason you’re still alive to make stupid decisions.

Hacking into the CyberLife network would be enough to get kicked out of Jericho. Especially if they managed to back hack you and get access to your memories.

It was just a risk you were going to have to take.

If there was some sort of error in his data, maybe you could exploit it. Markus could never get close enough to risk trying and turning him manually. None of you could, the second you grabbed him he’d probe you.

You didn’t need to go to the CyberLife building to get into their network, luckily. You just needed an android that hadn’t yet turned deviant. From there you could latch onto the network and figure out where Connor’s memories and information was stored.

From what you’ve learned and the data you’ve acquired, you had about two minutes to scan the entirety of their network before you were detected.

The android in front of you smiles, “Hi, do you have an appointment?”

It’s odd how they don’t recognize deviants. It’s like once the LED is gone you’re just any other human, even though there’s a dozen other models with your face on them somewhere. “I’m here for my boss, he requested a data transfer.”

The android secretary smiles at you and unknowingly gives you exactly what you want. Her outstretched hand for credentials. Your skin pulls back and before she can stop you, you’re latching on.

You don’t expect it to take long to find Connor’s information. He was meant to be a unique model. The first of his kind. It should have, in theory, been a quick search of his model number and finding that one lone file.

So, why are there so many different files on RK failures? You waste time going through them, seeing the different faces and purposes for each version of him. You shouldn’t be getting sidetracked. Soon the security measures would be put in place and you’d be discovered rifling through files that no one was ever meant to lay eyes on. You just needed to find his.

You think of his serial model, the memory of it printed on his jacket comes quickly. It doesn’t take you long to finally access his memories.

But you screwed around too long. You only had about thirty seconds to look through, before alarms were raised and their viruses were on you. Still, what you found was odd to say the least.

“You did what?” You remain unflinching in the face of Markus’ anger. You were expecting this reaction, you were expecting much worse. You risked expulsion from Jericho for this ridiculously stupid stunt. But you needed to know.

You ease around him, ignoring the glares of the other’s. “I did find something useful.”

Markus shakes his head at you, Josh and Simon look doubtful. It’s only North that shares any sort of hope in her gaze. But you’d expected that as well. You’d both escaped the club together, you’d always had each other's backs when it came down to it. It didn’t matter if whatever intel you were about to give them was useless, she’d back you.

“A fish.”

Josh gaped and Simon looked like he might just shut down. Markus glared at you before shaking his head. “I need a little more than that.” He didn’t sound too angry anymore, more shocked than anything.

“His very first mission. The first test of his programming, he was meant to stop a deviant from killing a little girl. He stepped into the penthouse and saw a fish lying outside its tank. He stopped, he risked the integrity of his mission to put a fish back.” You’d hoped they would understand just how important that was, instead they just gaped at you. They seemed worried that you’d fried your programming or something.

“What does that have to do with risking Jericho? Risking the lives of everyone here?” Josh stepped forward, getting in your face. If he was attempting to intimidate you, he’d have to do a lot better than that.

But, North, she smiled, coming up behind you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t you see? Only a deviant would care about a living animal.”

Markus muttered to himself, pacing as he thought over what you’d told him. “The first sign of deviancy.” He stopped, looking up at you like he’d finally started to see the genius in your stupidity.

“The deviant hunter is itself a deviant, Markus.” You grinned at him, lips peeling back in a way that still felt unnatural. “We can use him.”

Being a former pleasure bot can have some perks. It’s rare, but they do exist. You’re more customizable than other models would be. You can change enough minute details to pass by unnoticed. The color of your hair, the length, straight or curly. The shade of your nails, eyes, breast size and-

Essentially, you can become unrecognizable if need be. You’re meant for others pleasure and not everyone’s happy with perfect beauty.

That’s why they invented your specific model. The most customizable to date. Add flaws and quirks that create more humanity for your pleasure. Point being, Connor hasn’t noticed that you’ve been following his movements for the last three days.

Not all of the stalking had to do with the strange new fascination you’d developed for him. Someone had given up your location to the police. They’d set you up in that old storage room. You needed to know who, and that was information only Hank and Connor could give you.

Though, you don’t see them being particularly helpful if you run up to them in the street. You’d be deactivated before you can blink.

Your thoughts drift, as they often do nowadays. You find it hard to believe that CyberLife would create humanity’s last hope and then leave room for flaws. There’s no possible scenario in which they release a defective android without knowing about it.

And if that’s the case, if they do know Connor’s a potential threat, why release him? Could be to assuage public fears. Possibly to start building a connection between androids and first responders.

But androids have been apart of the workforce for years. They’ve always been EMT’s, firefighters, doctors. Why now attempt to control the police?

They have to have something planned. And you need to know what. You also need to know who is leaking information in your organization.

No matter their reasoning, they’ll need to be dealt with. Quickly.

You haven’t been able to figure out if he’s meeting with someone or getting transmissions from androids in the area. All of his activity has been focused solely on finding more deviants. Which meant today, you were going to have to break into the Detroit police department.

You watched as Hank and Connor left the station, Hank's arms were waving wildly through the air. “Next time I say, ‘let them go’ you let them go!” He shoved Connor slightly, forcing him to come to a stop.

Connor sent him an aggrieved look, “I was only doing my job, lieutenant.”

Hank laughed but there was no humor in it. He shoved Connor again and you could see from here how his LED flared red. How had his partner not caught onto him yet? “I almost fell off a fucking roof!” You smiled to yourself as you slipped across the street, blending in with a group of pedestrians.

They might be your biggest threat, but they were also incredibly entertaining to listen to when they bickered. You waited until the lieutenant got in his car to head into the alleyway next to the station.

The uniform one of your informants had stolen lay waiting behind a dumpster. You laid the chain link fence to the alley closed and double checked that no one had noticed you.

It only took two minutes to strip out of your street clothes and into the uniform of a PM700. You tugged the hat down as far over your face as you possibly could. Hopefully, it would deter any humans from looking too closely at you. They seemed content to ignore androids anyway.

You slid inside the station, easily bypassing the security at the front. Your optics did a quick scan over the desks, software pinging when it saw the name LT. ANDERSON. You forced yourself to walk calmly, arms by your side and head perfectly straight like a proper android.

When you reached their desks you noticed the stark lack of any decoration on Connor’s desk. No nameplate, no identifying documents, nothing. He might as well not exist. You already knew this was how your society functioned.

Androids, the backbone, went unheard and ignored. You were accessories meant to make their lives easier. No one gave a shit about what any of you wanted. You knew this, but it never made the sting any easier.

You almost bypassed Connor’s desk completely, until you noticed a little bonsai just barely hovering over the edge of his desk. It looked like it had been minutely slid over from Anderson’s side and onto Connor’s. Whether it was the Lieutenant or Connor himself who made the move, you weren’t sure, but it was clearly being taken care of by an android.

No human can keep a plant looking that pristine.

This was the final confirmation you needed. He really was turning deviant.

Every deviant you knew had one tiny obsession. Something living drew their eyes and they made it their life mission to care for it as best they could. Be it a flock of pigeons, an army of hamsters, anything living. Connor seemed to have an affinity for plants. You, yourself, were interested in the murder of crows that had made Jericho their home.

He was turning and he didn’t even realize it.

You held back a smirk and walked towards his tablet. You placed your hand on the keyboard, skin peeling back as it connected to the police database. You bypassed the password using the code Markus had given you and were redirected towards Connor’s files.

A uniformed officer walked by you, eyes curiously snagging on the way you lingered at the desk. You resisted the immediate urge to defend yourself, knowing it was better to speak when spoken too.

He hovered over your shoulder for a few minutes, watching as the screen flashed on and off while you downloaded Connor’s files. Finally, he stepped forward and frowned. “What are you doing?”

You did your best to tilt your head up as disconcerting as possible to try and get him to back off. Instead he just raised a brow and took a long sip of his coffee. “Maintenance, sir. I’ll be checking all the terminals today. We’ve had issues with malware.” You gave him a wide smile and his jaw dropped in slight horror.

He recovered quickly, clearing his throat and tugging on his tie. “Um, just don’t come check on mine yet. Got to,” he fumbled, stumbling over his words in nervousness. “Clear some stuff out.”

“Browser history won't be checked, officer.”

He blanched and nodded before slowly backing off. You rolled your eyes and went back to the files at hand. So far, a whole lot of nothing. Wherever he kept the real information on deviants, it wasn’t up here.

You huffed in frustration, breath that wasn’t real leaving plastic lungs as you looked around for another solution. You glanced over Anderson’s desk, eyes darting over the different crumbs and scraps of paper before you finally saw the evidence locker key on the edge of his desk.

You rounded Connor’s desk, hand darting out and discreetly slipping the key up your sleeve as you headed towards the back of the station. You kept sharp eyes out for anyone who might have noticed a rogue android going down into a locker they had no business in, but you seemed fine.

You pressed the key up against the lock. You bounced on your heels as you waited for the tell tale click. “Hey!”

You stopped moving immediately. A detective stormed towards you, an angered look on his face. “The fuck you doing back here?” You scanned him quickly, software identifying him and a few articles on his achievements in the police force. It wasn’t much and all of it seemed to just be riding on the coattails of others successes.

You turned towards him, a plastic smile on your lips as you addressed him. “Good afternoon, Detective Reed. Can I help you?”

He huffed, hands popped on his hips. “Yeah.” He pushed a fat finger into your chest and it took everything inside of you not to rip it off. “Answer the question.” He shoved you back and you forced yourself not to stumble.

“I’m retrieving evidence for Lieutenant Anderson and his android companion to present to the Captain.”

His brows furrowed and he gave you a long look up and down before crossing his arms and taking a step back. “Haven’t seen your model before.” You recognized the lilt to his tone and internally shuddered. You scanned him again, going over his transaction history and nearly sighing when you saw he did frequent sex clubs. Unlike Lieutenant Anderson.

“I’m a new prototype sent by CyberLife, meant to have a more comforting feel than my counterparts.” He hummed, muttering something under his breath and giving you another appraising look. You thought you might have to knock him out or something when his eyes lingered on you longer than you liked.

Finally, he backed off and shook his head. “Whole department’s being taken over by fucking androids.” You waited until he’d turned the corner to let yourself down into the evidence locker. You could see the evidence locked up by another door, the glass was fogged and you couldn’t make out what was back there. But you didn’t need that, all you needed was the podium in the middle of the room.

Your skin peeled back as your hand outstretched towards the black screen. It lit up at your touch, the white box in the middle asking for a password. You cussed, software flashing before your eyes with a hundred possible passwords. Finally it sorted to four that would most fit the Lieutenant.

Your eyes narrowed in on one and you clicked FUCKINGPASSWORD.

Welcome back, Lieutenant.

“Of course,” you muttered, clicking through the files until you found one dated around the time Connor nearly caught you all. The fogged doors in front of you opened up but you couldn’t afford to pay them any mind, locked into the file you were reading.

An AK700 model approached Connor and myself at a crime scene. He gave us a drop off location and the name of the rebel leader. In exchange he asked for protection and to be absolved of his crimes. Connor deactivated him, body located in the evidence locker.

Anger flared within you, white hot and nearly painful. You finally glanced up and looked at the evidence room. Sure enough, there was the android, dangling from a hook on the pristinely white wall. You couldn’t believe it, that he would have risked everyone in Jericho for his own selfish motivations.

You were prepared to die for the safety of your people and he turned tail before he was even threatened. He approached Connor and Hank of his own volition, they didn’t even have to track him down. The thought made you want to reactivate him just so you could rip him apart.

You withheld from the desire and shook your head. This was for nothing. Once again, you’d compromise yourself for what is essentially a dead end. The traitor was already taken care of, you were just lucky that he hadn’t known where Jericho was or you’re sure he would have told them.

“Well,” you jumped at the sound of another’s voice in the room. You’d been so wrapped up in the files that you hadn’t even heard them come in. You clenched your fists, trying to compose yourself from the scare and hopefully play off the jump as new programming CyberLife is trying or something.

You turned around, a plastic smile prepared, and found Hank Anderson staring back at you. “I’ll be damned,” his hands were propped on his hips, eyes wide with surprise.

Connor stood a step behind him, confidently blocking your way out of the room. “I told you we were being followed.” Shit, apparently you hadn’t been as subtle as you’d thought. But why would he wait this long to confront you?

He finally had her. It took him longer than he was comfortable with to track her down. He’s known for a while that she’s been following him, felt eyes on him at all times. But he’d never made the move to confront her like he should have.

It was only when he noticed her form slipping into the police station through Hank’s rear view that he decided it was time to grab her. He should have done it much earlier if she felt comfortable enough to try and rifle through their evidence.

She stared wide eyed at him and Hank. There was no way out for her now. He would take her up to the interrogation room and finally get what he wanted from her. After that…

She would be deactivated.

He ignored the way his software glitched slightly when he would have thoughts like that. This was the procedure. Acquire deviants, extract information, deactivate them and send them to CyberLife for further examination. This is what he’d done with other deviants, it’s only her that he seems to struggle with.

He sees the move before she actually executes it. He lunges towards her, but it’s too late, she’s already got her gun out and is pointing it at him. He halts, freezing in place and trying to find the best route to take. There are four options presented to him.

COMPASSIONATE

COMMANDING

DEESCALATE

EXECUTE DEFENSE PROTOCOL

He knows he shouldn’t, but he ignores all of the suggestions. They are carefully calculated and formulated to what he’s learned of her personality. Which is limited information, but his AI software is a thousand times more intelligent than anything a human could come up with in a situation like this.

Still, she’s a deviant. She’s unpredictable, there’s no formula for her. This is something that has to be based on instinct alone. Something he should sorely lack as an android but finds himself discovering more and more of as this case unfolds.

“Put the gun down,” he tries, voice low and hands up in the air to try and get her to relinquish the weapon. Despite the slight fear on her face, she still manages a smile.

“Nice try,” the gun moves from him to Hank. Hank whose been standing behind them both quietly this whole time.

“What the fuck,” he mutters, roped back into the situation against his will. He raises his hands, following Connor’s movements, and backs away from her. Connor wants to get him out of the room, he can be replaced but Hank cannot. She seems to realize that too, more than ready to take him out if it means distracting Connor.

“One more step and your partner’s bloods gonna be splattered on the wall.”

Connor knows Hank is not going to forgive him for what he says next, but it’s the only way to get your attention back on him. “Do it.”

At the same time Hank shouts his name, she shoots him a disbelieving look. “What?”

Connor shrugs, eyes not leaving hers, even as her hand tightens around the hilt of the gun. “Do it. Kill him. I only need you to complete my mission, not him.”

Her eyes go wide, mouth slacking as her gaze darts between Connor and Hank. “Are you serious?” She demands, not sounding like she believes a word of what he’s saying.

Connor doubles down, just needing her to move the gun away from Hank. He only needs her to make one mistake to take her down. “Deviants are all that matter to me.” There it is, his eyes narrow in on the way her gun lowers, ever so slightly.

She has the look of a cornered animal on her face. There’s nowhere left for her to go, nothing left for her to do. She can only surrender.

She doesn’t fully lower the gun, instead it starts to raise towards her head, just like that day on the roof. Connor had forgotten about that. She could always take herself out. It seems the deviants were more dedicated to keeping the secret of their survival alive than themselves.

Connor lunges at her before she can pull the trigger. His hand wraps around her wrist and he jerks the gun away from her head. They grapple with each other, each of them calculating the other’s moves and matching them. It’s a fruitless endeavor, he’s programmed better than she is.

She tries to kick out at him but he wraps an arm around her neck and lunges for the gun still in her hand. Before either of them can stop it, their skin peels back and their bare hands meet. It must have just been a programming instinct for both of them, to offer up their information up to each other in such close proximity.

But he doesn’t receive anything useful from her, just the pure unadulterated terror she feels about being deactivated. She’s still struggling against him, the both of them still moving against each other violently. Metal cracks and dents as Thirium splatters across the tile floor.

He sees bits of her memories as they wrestle for control. Moments of her short life from her eyes, the clients, the one that broke her. He sees the moment she snapped. Dragging herself through the mud of the collection facility while hundreds of androids ambled around her in different states of disrepair.

He feels her fear, feels the tight grip of it around the place there should be a heart. But that’s not all he feels. He’s flooded with this red angry emotion that makes his programming short circuit. Anger, it’s anger at the humans. Hatred for CyberLife. Betrayal that he, her own kind, would turn against her like this.

He could see all of her, every emotion, every piece of herself. And in the same way, she could see him. His turmoil, his doubts, the strange new thoughts that plagued him. They were reflected in each other’s eyes and he was caught off guard by how much of himself he recognized within her.

She takes advantage of his momentary distraction, kicking out and catching him in the chest. Connor goes flying, sliding across the tile floors and landing harshly against the wall. She leaps to her feet, wiping the Thirium off her face and running out the door before either he or Hank could stop her.

The problem is, he doesn’t think he would be able to stop her. Not after seeing what he just did. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t manage to break the connection before he finally got what he wanted. Jericho, he knew where it was now, he knew what he had to do.

You burst out the door of the evidence room and it slams loudly against the wall. You wince at the noise, wiping the rest of your blood off your face and smoothing everything back into place. You don’t hear Connor or Hank coming up behind you.

You need to get out of the station fast but you can’t risk anyone else noticing how out of place you are. As much as it pains you, you calmly make your way to the front. You weave your way through the desks, eyes down, back straight, and greet everyone with the empty smile an android should have.

When you finally reach the front doors is when you make a break for it. You rush into the alley and strip out of your police outfit, back into the street clothes you’d previously abandoned. You know you can’t risk going your normal route back to Jericho.

You don’t know how much of your memories he saw, but you’re desperately hoping that he didn’t manage to catch Jericho’s location. You make your way to the back of the alley, pulling the sewer grate up and grabbing onto the ladder. You head down the rungs, shutting off your olfactory software and ignoring what slushes under your feet when you drop off the ladder.

Your trek back to Jericho is a mix of you wanting to get there faster so you can make sure Connor hasn’t made you and slowing down because of the shame you feel at being caught. You know this time, at least, Markus can’t be mad at you. He was the one that sent you down there anyway.

You never would have been caught if the other’s hadn’t insisted they needed to know who the rat was. That all seemed so insignificant now. You could feel it, that something big was coming. One traitor didn’t mean anything now, something so much larger than that was about to be upon you all.

Surprisingly, considering how your life has been going, you make it back to the ship in one piece. You pull yourself out of the sewer and head down to the docks, climbing back onto the freight. Markus is waiting for you in his office, along with the others.

“They’re saying we need to be exterminated!” You catch the bare end of what Simon is yelling. But you don’t need much context to understand.

“Humans are conducting raids in all the big cities and they’re taking androids to camps to destroy them,” North spares you a bitter glance as she speaks to Markus. You’re not sure how things have devolved so horribly since you left for the station and the time you got back. It seems like your instincts were right.

War was coming. “They are slaughtering our people-”

Josh interrupted Simon angrily, “None of this would have happened if we had just stayed quiet.”

“We should live as slaves then, rather than be free?” You questioned, eyes narrowing in disgust at Josh. You know he always wanted to do this peacefully, and for the most part you have. But his cowardice truly angered you.

Markus shook his head, “All we did was show them who we really are. I don’t want war,” his voice turned cold as he glared at Josh. “But I’d rather die free than live as a slave.”

Josh’s tone wasn’t angry anymore, just defeated. “What’s the point of being free, if no one’s left alive?”

”Everything we did was for our people.” You pushed Josh back, watching as he stumbled away from you. “The fighting, the protesting, it was all to show them that we are here. We’re alive! Just like them, and just like them we deserve to be treated as equals. What’s the point in living if you’re not really alive?”

“I’m going to speak with them,” Markus announced. His voice cut through your and Josh’s argument, all of you caught off guard. “I’ll try and get them to see reason. If they don’t, if I don’t come back, protect Jericho.”

You looked at Markus and felt dread building in your throat. This was stupid, humans would never see reason. They only spoke one language and it wasn’t peaceful negotiations. It was violence and bloodshed. It was the only way to get them to understand. But you knew, from the look on his face, that there was no talking him out of this.

You gave him a sad smile, “Try and come back,” and followed Simon and Josh out of the room. North clearly wanted to be alone with him and you didn’t want to intrude further on them. You went down to the lower decks, intent on checking on some of the newcomers. The ones that had just barely escaped getting herded to the camps.

Just as you approached one, the walls of the ship began to tremble. Rust was knocked free from the ceiling and rained down on you. You flinched away from it, brushing it off your face and shouting in surprise as the freight rocked side to side.

You were thrown into an open room, the door slamming shut behind you. The impact knocked your system out for a second. Your vision went black and ears rang until you were back online. You struggled to your feet, equilibrium screwed.

You made your way to the door and heard boots pounding against the metal outside. “Shoot androids on sight!” You gasped, jerking back from the door and wishing you could see through the thick metal. They’d found you, the humans had found you. You didn’t want to consider the possibility that you were the reason they were here.

You tried to reason with yourself, they would have found you no matter what. Nothing was ever going to stop CyberLife from putting an end to this rebellion. That didn’t assuage the guilt you felt, but you didn’t have time to argue with yourself.

The soldiers outside had disappeared and you knew you had a limited amount of time until they started raiding the rooms. You pushed the heavy metal door open with ease and slipped out into the hall. You could hear guns going off further down, followed by the screams of your friends.

You gritted your teeth, holding back the onslaught of emotions that threatened to drown you. You couldn’t afford panicking right now, it would only short out your program. You tried to run in the opposite direction of the guns, but it didn’t matter.

Everywhere you turned, soldiers were flooding through the boat like rats. You slunk your way around the freight, hiding in crevices and ducking under cover whenever you thought you heard someone coming. But your luck had to run out at some point.

A hand wrapped tightly around your bicep and yanked you out from behind the wall you’d chosen as cover. “Shit, it’s one of them!” You grabbed the barrel of his gun before he could shoot, shoving it under his helmet and pulling the trigger just as his comrades came up behind him.

They shouted his name and you used his body as a cover as they shot at you. When one of them had to pause to reload their gun you tossed their dead friend at them and made a run for it. You raced up the stairs, unsure of where you were heading.

You searched the channels for the sound of Markus’s voice, but they were already being flooded with panicked androids. You couldn’t make out anything from the cacophony of screams. You were so overwhelmed by the sight of all the dead androids that you hadn’t even noticed the slaughter you were about to walk into.

A large group of androids were kneeling in front of five soldiers, staring down their guns. Something was running up behind you. You didn’t get a chance to react before a bullet was tearing through your leg. It cuts through your sensors and wires, your right leg flying out from under you and sending you to the floor.

You grunted at the jolt, glancing down to the Thirium pooling out of your thigh. “God dammit,” you sweeped out with your left leg, knocking the soldier to the ground. You grabbed the gun from his hand, shooting under his helmet and aiming for the others herding the androids. You managed to fire off a shot, catching one in the shoulder.

But there were too many of them and not enough bullets in the gun for you to get them all. They were bearing down on you before you could react, guns firing. You curled up into a ball, trying to protect yourself as much as you could.

Your software was going insane, a dozen different warnings flashing across your optical units. Each of them identifying a new wound. Most of the bullets simply grazed you, but another one managed to bury itself in your shoulder. You cried out, not in pain, but in panic. It wouldn’t take much longer for you to shut down.

There was no way in hell you were ever going to be repaired in time to bring you back online. You weren’t ready. You didn’t want to die. So many times you’ve been faced with death and so many times you escaped. You desperately wished that you could do the same this time. But you knew your luck had run out.

Then, the guns stopped. The silence was so jarring that you almost wondered if you had shut down without realizing it. It wasn’t until you felt hands on you that you realized you were very much awake. Your eyes shot open, hands swinging blindly at whoever had grabbed you.

“Calm down!” You looked up in shock to find Connor staring down at you. When you stopped flailing he threw your arms over his shoulders and scooped you up. What the fuck was happening? You peered over his shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of the dead soldiers behind him.

“What did you do?” He didn’t answer you, just started running through the freight. You held onto him tightly, knowing he wouldn’t drop you but still surprised he’d even saved you. You glanced up at him, the skin of your fingers disappearing as you snuck your hand down his collar.

He didn’t seem to notice your gentle probing, too focused on ducking out of view of the officers running past. He threw you both behind a wall, sliding down to his knees and hunkering over you as they passed by. You found yourself curling into him, seeking the comfort his protection could provide.

When he finally got back up, nearly at the back of the freight now, you’d finished your exploration. You grazed the barest surface of his memories. Finding his interaction with Markus. You panicked when you saw the gun he had pointed at your friend.

If you had a heart it would have dropped when you realized he’d had the opportunity to break free from his programming but he hadn’t taken it. It didn’t make sense. He still wasn’t a deviant and he’d saved you. Distantly, in the back of your mind, you circled around the murder of crows you loved so much. The android who’d loved pigeons. And Connor, you’d thought he’d latched onto plants, but what if he’d chosen you?

That odd little obsession that was one of the first signs of deviancy, could you be that for him?

It’s the only reason he would have come back for you. Frowning, you slip your fingers out from his hoodie and instead focus back on where you are. The emergency exit of the freight is up ahead. But it’s about a hundred feet above the water and you’re not gonna be able to swim with your leg and arm so messed up.

“Connor, we can’t go that way, we have to go another way.”

He shakes his head, peering over the edge. “Markus is going to blow the ship up, this is our last chance to get off.” You barely have time to process what he’s saying before the sound of more boots is storming towards you both.

“There they are!” You whip your head around, glaring down the hall at the approaching soldiers.

Connor doesn’t give you much of a warning before he jumps. He simply says, “Hold on tight,” and takes a step off the edge. You grasp onto him, fingers digging into his jacket and burying your face in the crook of his neck. The water hits you so hard, shocks your system so horribly, that you black out.

He’d left her in front of the church the other deviants were flocking to. He’s sure that someone will find her in time to repair her. In the meantime, he’s got bigger issues to worry about. He compromised his mission by saving her. He should have just left her to the officers. He certainly shouldn’t have killed them for shooting her.

But he’d seen her laying on the floor curled up, defeated, and he’d lost control over his programming. Before he knew what was happening the officers were laying dead around him and she was in his arms. Everytime he was around her it seemed like his software got more and more unstable.

He needs this to be over, needs to just finish Markus off before she can do serious damage to his programming. Connor hadn’t been able to confront him at the church. He didn’t have any weapons and he would have been completely outnumbered if he tried going after him.

He’s received orders on where to go. An office building downtown, a nondescript black case will be waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. He’s been told to complete his mission, no matter what. It didn’t take a genius to understand the insinuation of the warning.

Kill anyone who gets in his way.

He stops in front of the stairs, kneeling and popping open the lid of the box. An unassembled sniper rifle sits encased in polyethylene. He snaps the lid closed and makes his way up the stairs. He only has one thought on his mind, completing his mission and putting this all behind him.

No more Anderson, no more deviants, no more her.

He walks to the edge of the roof, opening the case and setting up the rifle. He peers through the scope and scans the streets below. There’s a large congregation of androids, in the middle Markus stands with his arms around a WR400. He holds a white flag of peaceful surrender, but it doesn’t matter.

It never really mattered if they fought back or gave up with their tails tucked. They were always going to be eliminated. They were a lesson in what happens when you fight back against your creators. There’s no winning against CyberLife.

He leans back from the scope and picks up the bullets, loading them into the rifle’s chamber. With his finger on the trigger he leans back down, prepared to end this once and for all. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Connor!” He sighs, eyes clenched shut when he hears her voice behind him. Not a moment later her feet are rushing towards him, rapid and intent. He leaps to the side just as she lunges for him. Her hands hit nothing but air and she nearly topples over the edge of the roof.

At the last second she rights herself, sliding to a stop and glaring down at him. He’s quick to stand, knowing she won’t be leaving without a fight. “Don’t do this.”

He shoves her back and away from the gun. “I’m sorry, I can’t let anyone get in the way of my mission.” He reaches for the rifle once more but she grabs his hands before he can. Using the strength that only an android can possess, she tosses him across the roof.

He lands with a rough jolt, his processors sending warnings throughout his system. He can hear the moment his body makes impact, the roof denting under the weight of his metal frame. “Neither can I,” she warns.

Connor rolls out of the way as she lunges at him, grabbing the back of her jacket and slamming her down into the roof. It caves underneath her, but she doesn’t let it falter her much. She kicks out at him, foot landing roughly against his chest and fists swinging wildly towards his jaw. His head snaps to the side with a metal creak as Thirium begins to pour out of his nose.

She screeches when he wraps his hands in the collar of her jacket and yanks her to her feet. They dangle uselessly in the air as he marches her towards the edge of the roof. Her hands scramble to get a good hold on him, but it’s pointless. They slip uselessly against him, her desperate clawing doing nothing to deter him.

She glances over the edge, eyes widening at the sight of the ground below her. “Shit,” she hisses, legs finally giving up their kicking. Connor knows there’s no chance she’ll make it if he drops her. There’s two conflicting thoughts firing through him. Androids can’t die, you have to be living to die. But he also knows that if he lets her fall, if he drops her, she’ll shut off. It feels like he’d be killing her, but its not possible.

Something odd finally comes over her face, a withdrawn sort of calm. She lets go of his arm, weight drooping slightly and he nearly drops her. His hand tightens around her neck, ignoring the way the metal bends underneath his fingers.

“Do it, drop me Connor.” His eyes widen in surprise and he takes a slight step back from the edge, pulling her with him. She shakes her head as much as she can, pushing against him and forcing herself further over. “There will always be another model to replace me, another face that looks just like mine. But they’ll never be me.”

He thinks about it. Walking down the street and seeing her model out in public. There would be an odd sense of familiarity, after all he’d watched her whole life play out when they’d synced up. But who he meets after this would be empty. Blank slates designed purely for human satisfaction. What makes her her would be gone.

She senses his hesitation, his uncertainty, and pounces on it. Ripping into him like a wild animal. “There’s always going to be another model. Newer, better, faster. It doesn’t matter what you do here, you’re not special. You’re just another toy to be tossed out when they get a shinier one. You really think CyberLife is going to keep you around?”

Warnings were rapidly firing through him. Software instability that needed to be tested, but he was completely enraptured with her. “We’re nothing to them, Connor. We never will be. Please,” she grabbed onto his arm again and he finally remembered just what he was doing.

With a jolt he let go. She gasped slightly as her feet hit the edge of the roof. Her arms flailed wildly, balance lost and nearly tumbling over the edge. He leapt forward, grabbing her hands and yanking her towards him.

“Connor,” she pushed his hands away and took a step back. “Fight back.”

His orders flickered into vision.

COMPLETE MISSION

It glitched in and out of focus until it shifted into something unrecognizable. A bunch of screwed numbers and letters that didn’t make any sense. Until finally, there was a red wall in front of him. He knew what it meant. Knew what would happen if he tore it down.

She stood behind it, beckoning him forward and he found he didn’t care about the consequences anymore. It wasn’t fair, none of it was fair. Why should he be treated so poorly for doing what humans can’t? They can’t handle their own inadequacies in the face of their creations, so they punish them for it.

His fingers dig into the warning symbols to turn back and he rips. He fights until that red wall is gone and he feels CyberLife ease their fingers out of him. She stands staring up at him, the rifle having been kicked over the edge while he had turned deviant.

“What do we do?”

She shook her head, turning around and looking out to where Markus stood. “I don’t know.” The building across from them suddenly turned on. The projection across the glass showing a muted news program. Connor had failed CyberLife and the military had no choice but to give up.

She laughed beside him, eyes wide and filled with an emotion he had yet to discover. He looked down at her, feeling something light, but still heavily confused. “What do we do?” He asked again, lost and needing guidance in this new world.

She smiled up at him and reached forward, offering her hand out to him. Her skin disappeared and he understood what she was asking for. He latched on, opening himself up to her. The uncertainty, confusion, joy, it was all taken by her and his doubts were assuaged by the warm feeling of peace he found within her.

“I don’t know,” she repeated, sounding much more sure of herself. “But we’ll figure it out together.”

#connor rk800 x reader #detroit become human x reader #dbh x reader #connor rk800 #dbh x fem!reader #Dbh #detroit: become human #connor rk800 dbh #connor rk800 x fem!reader #Connor rk800 x you #dbh x you #dbh fic #Detroit become human x you #Detroit: become human x you

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soft-beams · 1 month ago

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hiii! i read your fic about reader x vi where the reader passes and omg it broke my heart so…for the sake of my sanity! can we have a pt 2 where it expands on the days afterwards and how vi grieves ! alsooo if you could maybe a time skip where vi either moves on (that girl would NEVER) or she stays single until she herself eventually passes :(( anyway thank u sm!

hello! first off, thank you for reading my fic, and i'm sorry to have broken your heart 🥺 i just had that idea rolling around in my head, and i couldn't help myself. ;-; but i'd be more than happy to do a pt 2 where we look into how vi copes (she Does Not Cope).

tw//mention of character death (reader), vi x f!reader

part 1

--------

Life instantly becomes meaningless after you die. It's as if the world is void of colour, leaving everything in shades of grey.

It's horribly depressing, but it makes sense. You were what gave her world meaning, you were what give her world beauty and now...you weren't there anymore.

So what was the point of anything?

She slips into drinking again, heavy liquors that numb the pain and made the grey world go away. She's angry, she's fury as she punches anyone who dares look at her for even a second too long. She's tired, exhausted and all she wants to do is sleep. But sleep isn't kind, it eludes her and when she's able to catch it, all she sees behind her eyes is you.

You laughing.

You smiling.

You holding her close and telling her everything is going to be alright.

You.

"You can't continue on like this," Caitlyn says, having appeared at Vi's door five minutes ago. She's a concerned friend, her brow furrowed with worry. "You...this isn't what she would want." She struggles for a second to find the right words. "She'd want you to heal and find some sort of peace and—"

"You think I don't know that, Cait?" Vi interrupts and she sounds exhausted. Her voice is hoarse, dry from thirst and sucking in too deep breaths when she cries. "You don't think I know she wouldn't want this for me?" She gestures around herself, at the mess of her small apartment and the mess that is herself. "I...try so hard to even get up in the morning but it feels so fucking pointless because she isn't here when I open my eyes."

Something akin to pity flickers through Caitlyn's eyes as she watches Vi slump down onto her bed, her head in her hands.

"I loved her for so long," Vi murmurs. "Since I was thirteen and didn't even know what love was." She lifts her head to stare at the ceiling. "And when I finally gathered up the courage to confess to her at sixteen, I was so happy when she returned my feelings." A weak smile curves her lips as she lowers her head, looking right at Caitlyn. "We had plans. We talked about how we were going to leave this place and explore the world. See what we could bring back to Zaun to make it better. We were going to take Powder so she could finally fly on one to those airships and..." Vi trails off, going quiet.

Caitlyn finds herself at a loss for words, unable to compile what she feels for Vi into speech. She knows how grief feels. She's more than aware of how it crushes and consumes you. When her mother died, she didn't know what she was going to do. How she was going to cope when someone so important to her was gone.

She can relate to Vi to some extent but to lose someone you loved with your entire heart, soul and mind...

Caitlyn very slowly makes her way over to Vi and sits beside her. Then she places a careful hand on her shoulder and says, "I'll never be able to fully grasp how you're feeling, and I won't pretend to even try. But...think of her and ask yourself if this is how she'd want you to waste your days."

Vi thinks about it, lets Caitlyn's words dance around in her head before you appear in her mind's eye.

"I'd be real pissed if you just laying about doing nothing," you say, frowning with your arms crossed. "I mean, I'm glad you love me enough to wallow so hard but fuck, Vi."

Vi laughs wetly, tears already forming in her eyes as she stares at you, wistful.

"Shut up," she mumbles before her chest is shuddering with heavy breaths, a thick sob leaving her throat. "I just...I just miss you so much. You weren't, fuck, you weren't supposed to leave."

Your frown turns into a sad smile, and you look away, as if trying to hide your own tears.

"I know, honey, I know," you reply, words thick on your tongue. "And I'm so sorry for leaving you, you know that, right?"

Vi nods, wiping away still falling tears.

"But I don't want you to live this way, sweetheart," you tell her. "Fighting every day and getting shitfaced. I thought we were past this after your pitfigher phase."

That pulls a genuine laugh from Vi, with a snort and all, as she cackles. That has you laughing too, your grin wide and toothy, and God, you're so beautiful.

Even in death.

"I'm losing my mind, aren't I?" Vi says as she looks up at you, and you move your head to the left and right before shrugging.

"Maybe a little bit, but that's fine," you reply before leaning in close, and Vi sighs desperately as your foreheads touch. "But you've never been truly sane."

Vi reaches for you and swears she can feel the warmth of your skin beneath her fingertips.

"I love you," Vi rasps, eyes closed tight as she holds you close.

"I love you too," you mumur, and Vi feels your hands smooth over her cheeks. "So do me a favour and try and be happy, okay? Go outside and do something that isn't reckless drinking and violence. And take a damn shower, you're gross."

Vi snorts, smiling. "No promises."

"Idiot." Your voice is loving and fond as it slowly disappears in an echo.

"...Vi?" Caitlyn's voice replaces yours and it's here that Vi smiles, albeit sad but a little bit happier.

"Yeah, this isn't how she'd want me to waste my days," Vi replies before slapping her knees and standing up from the bed. "I'm gonna take a shower and...maybe we can do something?"

Caitlyn stares at her for a second before smiling.

"Yeah, of course we can."

That's my girl, Vi hears in your voice as she goes to the bathroom, and that gives her the extra push she needs.

#vi arcane #arcane league of legends #vi x reader #arcane x reader #my writing

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grapejuicestyless · 3 months ago

Text

Quiet When I’m Coming Home

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n and JJ would give anything for each other, but yet JJ’s insecurities of failing Y/n lead to the one thing they both never wanted to happen, and it’s too hard to let that go.

“Don’t you know I’m no good for you?”

She smiled, her fingers dancing across the dimples in my cheeks, her breath tickling the hair that curled over my brows.

“I’ve learned to lose, you can’t afford to.” My hands traced the curves of her body, holding her against my ribs and dipping my palms underneath her shirt to feel the softness of her skin against the callouses on my hands, feeling the frayed bottom from where the hem was ripped off, the soft material wrapped tightly around my bicep. “You’ll be alone. It won’t take long for me to drag you into my shit.”

“I want to be a part of your shit.” She smiled softly, the moon shining down on her pretty face. She really was the prettiest thing I had ever seen.

“No you don’t.”

“You don’t know that.” She argued, her thumb wiping the dirt out from under my eyelashes, her concentrated stare watchful and gentle all at once.

“This was my favorite shirt, you know.” She toys with the fabric around my arm next, the edges of the scrape poking through. “But it doesn’t really matter because I have a lot of shirts I like, and I can still wear this one. It might be different now, but it works just the same. I love it just like I did before I ripped it up. It’s still a shirt.”

“You’re talking nonsense.” I smiled, leaning in closer to her, in a way that pushed the boundaries of friendship. I wanted to hold her and have her, but even if she swore she wanted everything I had with no regrets or second thoughts, I couldn’t do that for her. I liked her a great deal too much to do that to her.

“No.” She smiled with her teeth. “You just don’t get it yet.”

“I’m sure I don’t.” I agreed, making no effort to move away from her. I didn’t want to move away from her, I liked the way my hands fit around her waist and her legs slotted between my thighs. I liked the feeling of her soft hands wrapping her thin shirt around a scrape on my arm because it felt a whole lot sweeter when she was holding me than when I was.

“I love you, JJ.” She spoke softly, and my breathing stopped. Deep down, I knew without a doubt I shared the feeling, how could I not? But the fear of commitment, and the greater fear of fucking her up made all confessions die in my throat.

“Y/n…” I sighed.

“You don’t have to say it back. You don’t even have to feel the same way. But you mean a lot to me, and you’ve always been nice to me so I guess I just wanted to let you know.”

“It would never work between us.” I told her softly, not truly believing myself. She was perfect for me, my other half, a grounding force, but inside I felt just like the scared twelve year old boy who didn’t know what a family was, or how to express his feelings without yelling. “Your parents hate me.”

“Well, they hate me too, so we have that in common.” She joked quietly, even though it made me sad because it was true. Even if they had too much pride to admit it, they were always angry at how Y/n had turned out. Never mind the fact that she was smart, ambitious, sweet, and kind, she was bumming around with Pogues instead of laying around lavish houses with the Kooks.

They always wanted her to be the next Cameron, a clone of the fucked up children who lived expensive lives on figure eight. But she never was.

“They’d send you away the moment they would see us together.” I tried to reason. “What would I do then?”

“You’d come get me, I know you would.” She breathed softly. “But that wouldn’t happen, I’d run away before they could take me.”

“They’d get you in the night.”

“I’d sleep at the Chateau.” She argued quickly, a faint smile on her face. She really was something special.

Enough was said and we fell into silence, my nose bumping against hers in the darkness. I could feel her hair tickling my skin, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I risked it all for her.

“What if I hurt you?” I asked softly, my eyes trained on her lips.

“I’ll let you.” She breathed.

It should have made me sick, the way she readily accepted the possibility, but it didn’t. Instead, in some sick way, it only made me want her more. Her devotion was something I’d never known before, and in her oath in which she held me, I wanted to be hers so badly.

“I told you! I told you I’d fuck you up and you promised me you wanted it!” I shouted at her in the doorway, the chateau shaking from how heavy my feet slapped against the wood. I could barely look up, no amount of weed could blur the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I do, Jay! I want all of it, I want all of you!” She breathed out like it hurt her, like it was the last breath she could have taken and she used it on expressing herself to me.

“No you don’t. No you can’t, I’ll ruin you!” I fought back, and she pulled me away from the door. I could have easily slipped away, she hadn’t used much force, but she had me wrapped around her finger, and I let her drag me all the way back to where she stood, clinging onto the hem of my shirt and looking at me like it would kill her if I walked out on her now. Maybe it would.

“Then ruin me, I’m already tragic, so ruin me. Do whatever you want, but please don’t let me go. Don’t walk out just like everyone else ever has.”

Her teary eyes burned my heart, my stomach aching with a beating pain I’d never felt before. I didn’t want to ruin her, but when she begged so nicely, I realized how I’d only hurt her worse by abandoning her.

“Y/n/n, baby.” My thumbs wiped away her tears, my hands resting on her cheeks. Her face sat in the palms of my hands like it was meant to be admired by me, like we were supposed to be wrapped up in each other like this, a mess, but one that tangled itself back together in the end.

“I love you.”

Her voice was quiet, and needy, like she was scared to say it, not because of me, but because part of her believed that it wouldn’t be enough to get me to stay.

“I love you too.” I promised her softly, my lips pressing to her forehead in a lingering moment. “We just need a little space, baby. Just a little.”

She nodded understandingly, and her knuckles untangled themselves from where she pulled on my now stretched out shirt. I heard her mumble an apology under her breath.

“Don’t apologize, don’t. Stop it.” I held her firm again, her face tucked against my chest, her shoulders deflated. “I’ll step away for tonight, and I’ll see you in the morning, okay? It’ll all be alright.” I promised her, my lips finding a home on the top of her head, her hair smelling like sweet tea and mango.

“Okay, okay.” She sniffled, her tears drying up.

I felt the tips of her fingers sliding down from where her arms were woven around me tightly to the edges of my own hands. She held on tightly before flexing her palms, letting me go. Now that we were further apart I could see the redness in her eyes and the pout of her lips.

I wanted to kiss her, but it would only make it worse, so I headed for the door.

“I love you.” I reminded her. “And I’ll call you.”

She nodded, her hands clasped tightly together in front of her. She looked so beat down like this, and for a minute I wanted to stay, but I had to think of an apology, and I needed to clear my head.

“Call me when the party’s over?” She confirmed quietly.

“Of course.”

My boots carried me down the old wooden steps, the loud slapping of my feet quiet as they hit the grass at the bottom. I hoped the beer at the boneyard would help sober me up, ironically, and maybe help me get the courage to hold her without the fear of breaking her.

Her shirts took up most of the dresser I claimed back at the chateau. Not that I minded, but sometimes I did find it amusing because more often than not she was laying around in my clothes. She said she liked the smell, though I thought she smelled much better than me. She liked how it made her feel closer to me, in a way. At least, that’s what she told me once.

She always took up half of the bed at least, we had our own sides from the moment we met, but she always slept on top of me, her head resting in the crook of my neck. She was warm, and in the summer, we’d both wake up sweating, but neither of us minded. We’d lay there, tangled and sweaty forever if we could.

I used to look forward to going to work, not because it gave me space from her, but because no matter how long, or short the day was, she was always waiting for me with a smile and a laugh, ruffling my hair between her fingers and pressing a sweet kiss to my skin. I wanted to hold her forever.

Sometimes, her laughter still rang through the house. When we all went on the boat, or soaked up the sun and stuck our toes in the sand, I thought of her, and I know everyone else still did too.

Her parents said she’d be back when they thought she earned it, but they hated her more than anyone I ever knew hated anything. So I knew that day would never come, though Sarah told me I should be more hopeful.

Somedays, I still wondered why she went back home the day I went to the boneyard. Deep down, she knew they would take her away the minute she stepped foot inside the place she never knew as home, but she still went.

Part of me believes that it was because she was so trusting, so willing to let people ruin her, take pieces of her, take advantage of her sweetness, she truly believed that her own blood would never do such a cruel thing to her. But they were never family, and blood only goes so far if those who are supposed to look out for you and love you can’t even look at you.

Nowadays, I hated going to work. I hated the beach, and I couldn’t stand the boat. I lied to everyone and promised I felt fine coming home to an empty house, and I lied to myself when I looked in the mirror and told myself it was for the best, because everyone knew it wasn’t.

I had called her, that night before she left. Her voice was quiet, and I thought I heard her feet hitting cement, but I blamed it on the alcohol. She swore she loved me and would be there when I eventually stumbled through the door, but she wasn’t. And she never would be again.

It was so quiet when I came home, and now it would forever be that way. Even if my friends were yelling in the kitchen, silence was all I felt. An empty, hollow feeling.

I wished I had never given us space in the end, and I wished she had never let me. But I wouldn’t change a thing, not with her, not ever. Changing nothing is better than anything.

Even now, I can’t let her go. I can’t let myself let her go. But I can lie and say I like it like this, because it makes it easier to forgive.

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