#and then it spiralled all the way away from me
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Would you be down to write some reverse comfort with the Arcane characters?
Basically just make them go through one of the worst days of their lives then have the reader take care of them (I mostly just wanted to see Viktor in this scenario, but if you want to write for other characters too that'd be awesome)
Either way take your time and I hope you have a wonderful day ~☁️
arcane characters reverse comfort x fem reader
characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.
writer's note: i'm always down for this kind of scenarios, make me feel like a teenage girl again. as you already know request are open ;)
Viktor
It has been an exhausting day in the lab. The experiments have failed time and again, each mistake weighing heavier on Viktor’s shoulders. You can see it in his eyes when he finally gives in, letting the tools fall with a long, heavy sigh. He leans against the workbench, his slender, hunched figure casting a shadow of defeat on the walls illuminated by the flickering equipment.
"This doesn't make sense..." he murmurs, as though the words are a burden he needs to release. His fingers drum frustratedly on the metallic surface, and you feel the despair in every tap. "I’ve made mistake after mistake... Maybe this was all a mistake from the start."
His words hit you, but it’s the tone of his voice that wounds you more, filled with a self-criticism that is painfully familiar but no less difficult to hear. You know how much his work matters to him, how much of himself he has poured into these projects. And you know this failure consumes him more than he’s willing to admit. You can't just stand by and watch him spiral.
"Viktor," you say softly, stepping closer and placing a firm yet comforting hand on his arm. "You’re a genius, and even geniuses have tough days. Today was one of those days, but it doesn’t define who you are or what you do."
At first, he doesn’t respond. His gaze is lost, searching for answers in the shadows that stretch across the lab. But then his grey eyes meet yours, filled with doubt and exhaustion. "How can you be so sure? Every day without progress... I feel like I’m wasting time, like I’m failing everyone, even myself."
Your heart tightens at his words. You take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers gently, feeling the coolness of his skin against yours. "Because I know you, Viktor. I’ve seen your dedication, your passion. Every mistake, every small setback is part of the process. You don't have to carry this weight alone. I’m here to help you shoulder it."
The silence that follows is thick, but instead of uncomfortable, it’s a space where words aren’t necessary. Slowly, you see his posture relax, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. Without letting go of his hand, you step even closer, sensing the fragility of the moment.
"Let’s step outside for a bit," you whisper, "You need to clear your mind, get some fresh air. You don’t have to do it all today, not tonight."
He looks at you again, with a mix of gratitude and weariness, and finally nods. "Alright," he says softly, as if it’s hard for him to admit he needs the break.
You walk together to the exit, your fingers still entwined with his. The night air is a balm, cool and light, carrying away some of the day's heaviness. You walk in silence through the almost deserted streets, the distant hum of the city a constant murmur.
"Thank you," he finally whispers, breaking the silence with a voice soft, almost breaking. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."
You stop, turning to face him. "You don’t have to know, because I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you, through the good and the bad days. You don’t have to bear this burden alone."
He tilts his head, and for a moment it seems like he’s about to say more, but instead, he simply squeezes your hand tighter, a silent gesture that speaks volumes.
"Come here," you say, leading him to a nearby bench. You sit beside him, and for the first time all night, you see him take a deep breath, as if the fresh air could cleanse not just his lungs but also his mind and soul.
Viktor rests his head on your shoulder, allowing himself to close his eyes and savor the moment. You kiss his head and gently stroke his hair, cherishing these rare moments, knowing how precious they are when they happen.
"Today was a bad day," he finally says, his voice tinged with a quiet melancholy. "But, for some reason, it doesn’t feel as overwhelming with… with you here."
You smile softly, feeling warmth spread from his acceptance, from his openness. "I’ll always be here to remind you that even the worst days come to an end. And that you are stronger than you think."
He looks at you, and for an instant, the world seems to stop. His gaze, filled with gratitude and something deeper, envelops you. Before you can say anything more, you feel him leaning towards you, and in that moment, everything falls into place. His lips brush against yours with a tenderness that disarms you, a kiss soft yet laden with unspoken emotions.
When you part, just inches away, his eyes remain closed as if he wants to hold onto the moment a little longer. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.
You cradle his face in your hands, gently caressing his cheeks. "There’s no need to thank me, my love."
Jinx
The day had been chaos, even by Jinx's standards. Everything had gone wrong: a botched attack, crumbling plans, and to top it all off, an unexpected explosion that almost trapped her in her own trap. Now, she sat in her lair, surrounded by the wreckage of her shattered inventions, her breath short and pulse racing. Her mind, always a whirlwind, now felt like a hurricane of uncontrollable voices and thoughts.
The laughter of her imaginary "friends" echoed in her head, growing louder, mocking her. "Failed again, Jinx. You always fail." She pressed her hands against her temples, squeezing as if she could silence the voices. But the laughter wouldn’t stop, and the crushing weight of loneliness and failure bore down on her.
You approached cautiously, knowing that Jinx in this state was a minefield. But you also knew you couldn’t leave her alone in her internal storm. "Jinx," you called softly, keeping your voice low and calm. "I’m here, sweets."
She didn’t respond at first, her body tense like a spring about to snap. But as you drew closer, her bright blue eyes, wide and wild, met yours with a mixture of anger and desperation. "Why? Why do you keep coming back? Don’t you get it? I don’t need anyone. I don’t want anyone to see me like this."
"I’m not here to judge you," you replied gently, sitting down next to her without encroaching too much on her space. "I’m here because I care. Because I know that sometimes, even the strongest people need a breather. And there’s nothing wrong with that."
She let out a bitter laugh, dripping with sarcasm. "A breather? You think I can just... breathe and everything will be fine? That’s not how my head works. It’s... broken. Everything’s broken."
Your eyes softened at the pain in her words, the self-loathing and anger intertwining dangerously. Without much thought, you reached out, lightly touching her hand, hoping the physical contact might ground her somehow.
"Maybe you can’t fix everything right away," you said softly, "but at least you’re not alone in this boat. I’m on board with you, and I’m not getting off, even if we hit an iceberg." You joked to lighten the tense atmosphere.
She looked at your hand on hers, and for a moment, it seemed like she would pull away. But instead, her trembling fingers closed around yours, with a grip that betrayed just how desperately she needed something—someone—to understand her.
"Why do you care?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I’m a mess. Everything I touch... I ruin."
"Because you’re more than your mistakes," you said, squeezing her hand gently. "You’re strong, creative, and even if the world doesn’t understand you, I want to be here for you, to help you see that, even when everything gets tough."
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her voice breaking as she murmured, "I don’t know if I can do it... but thank you... for not giving up on me."
You smiled softly, leaning closer to her. "I’ll never give up on you. And you know what? Let’s make a deal. Today was a bad day, but just for today, we’ll do whatever you want. How about we start with some ice cream?"
Her eyes lit up slightly, though there was still a shadow of doubt in her expression. "Ice cream? Really?"
"Serious business," you said, smiling a little more. "Pick your favorite flavor. We’ll go get it, and then we can do whatever you want. You can draw, launch rockets, blow things up—whatever makes you feel better."
"Can I dye your hair blue?" she asked, her tone teasing but her eyes hopeful.
"Anything but that," you corrected, not quite understanding her obsession with wanting to dye your hair.
She burst out laughing, pressing a hard kiss to your cheek. "Just kidding, hon. I love everything about you, even your boring dark hair."
"Hey!" you playfully patted her shoulder.
Suddenly, her smile faded again, uncertainty flickering in her gaze.
"But what if everything keeps going wrong?"
"Then I’ll be here to pick up the pieces with you," you said, gently stroking her hand. "You’re not alone, sweets. Not today, not any day."
She launched herself into your arms, hugging you tightly, her body trembling slightly. "Thank you..." she whispered against your neck, clinging to you as if you were her anchor in a storm. And in that moment, you knew the only thing that mattered was her feeling your presence, your unwavering support.
Vi
Vi’s mind was still trapped in the ring, replaying the final moments of that crucial fight. She had bet everything on it—her money, her pride, her reputation. Everything hung by a thread, and she had lost. The cheers had faded, leaving only the echo of failure resonating in her head.
She limped back to her hideout, her knuckles bloodied and her jaw clenched. Dropping onto the worn-out sofa, she let out a frustrated growl, covering her face with a hand as she tried to contain the fury and humiliation. She had risked so much, and now it was all gone.
The whispers of her defeat spread like wildfire. You knew Vi wasn’t one to admit defeat easily, nor to ask for help. So, with a heart full of concern, you went to find her, worried about her state.
The door creaked open as you stepped inside. "Vi," you called gently, finding her on the couch, shoulders tense and gaze fixed on the floor. You approached cautiously and sat on the floor in front of her, your chin resting on your hands as you looked at her intently. "Are you okay?"
"I don’t need your pity," she snapped, her voice sharp but laced with vulnerability. "I’m fine. Just... need a moment."
"Vi," you said softly, "it’s just one loss. You’re incredible in the ring, babe, but you can’t expect to win every time. Besides, we learn more from our mistakes than from our victories. It’s okay."
"No, it’s not okay," she shot back, finally lifting her head to meet your gaze, her blue eyes filled with frustration. "I bet everything on that fight. Everything. And now I have nothing."
"That’s why I’m here," you responded, sitting beside her and gently taking her bloodied hand in yours, inspecting it with care. "You don’t have to carry this alone. Let me help you."
"I don’t want your help," she protested, trying to pull her hand away, but you held on firmly. "I don’t need saving. I can handle this."
"Vi, don’t be stubborn," you chided, your voice firm yet warm. "I care about you, and I’m not going to stand by while you drown over something we can fix together."
Her gaze softened, a mix of wounded pride and unspoken gratitude in her eyes. "I can’t take your money," she muttered, looking down again. "It’s not fair to you."
"Babe, if the roles were reversed, I know you’d do the same for me," you reminded her. "This isn’t about fairness or debt. It’s about caring for someone I love."
The last word hung in the air, making Vi look up again. "You... love me?" she whispered, as if it was something she hadn’t allowed herself to hear before.
"Love you? I’m crazy about you, woman!" you admitted with a chuckle, gently squeezing her hand. "And because of that, I’m going to help you through this. Take the money, just this once. It’s not weakness to accept help, Vi. It’s strength to know when you need someone."
She let out a deep sigh, her body relaxing slightly as the tension began to ease. "Alright," she murmured finally, her voice barely a whisper. "I’ll take your help... just this once."
"That’s all I needed to hear," you said, smiling softly as you caressed her hand. "We’ll get through this, together."
Vi looked at you, and for the first time that night, a faint smile curved her lips. "Thank you," she said, leaning toward you. Her hand suddenly slid to your ass, giving it a playful squeeze.
You looked at her, a mix of confusion and amusement on your face. She just shrugged, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"What? It’s my way of saying thanks," Vi defended, following it up with a loud slap.
Laughing, you climbed onto her lap, leaning in close to her mouth, "Well, if I’d known your gratitude was this charming, I’d hope for favors more often."
Vi leaned in and kissed you, a tender kiss that spoke of gratitude and something deeper, needing no words. "I love you," she murmured against your lips.
"And I love you," you whispered, your lips still brushing hers.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn's office was silent, the only sound breaking the stillness was the soft scratch of her pencil against paper as she reviewed the reports that had come in. It had been a particularly difficult day for her. The weight of the decisions she'd had to make hung heavily on her shoulders, and her mind couldn't stop replaying the latest case she had been handling. Even though she tried to maintain her composure, you knew Caitlyn wasn't invincible.
You approached cautiously, gently tapping on the door before stepping inside. "Cait," you called softly, seeing her immersed in her work, her eyes glued to the desk, but her rigid posture betrayed her exhaustion.
She looked up and forced a smile. "Don’t worry, everything’s under control," she said, her voice slightly tenser than usual.
Leaning against the doorframe, you watched her with concern. "I know you're working hard, Cait, but this isn’t just about work, is it?"
She didn’t respond immediately, her eyes narrowing as if fighting herself not to admit what was clearly troubling her. "It’s nothing. Just... tough cases. Nothing you need to worry about."
You knew her too well. Something wasn’t right. Caitlyn always maintained her facade of strength, never showing vulnerability, but you knew even she had limits. You decided to step closer, gently removing the papers from her hands and sitting on her desk, right in front of her, catching her off guard. Her hands instinctively found your thighs, her fingers pressing into your skin as a silent sign of her pent-up stress.
"You're not doing this alone tonight, Cait," you told her firmly. "I know you feel the pressure, but you don’t have to carry it all by yourself."
She tried to smile, but the gesture only highlighted her fatigue. "I can't afford to show weakness. Everyone expects me to have the answers."
"That’s precisely what makes you human," you replied softly, cradling her face and appreciating her delicate features. "The burden of leadership, the tough decisions... it can’t all rest on you. If you need a break, you’ll take one. If you need to talk, I’m here."
Caitlyn remained silent, her gaze now locked onto yours, as if considering your words for the first time. You could see her defenses slowly crumbling, her breathing easing into a calmer rhythm. "Sometimes I feel like no one understands... how hard it is to keep everything together, always being the one expected to know what to do."
"I understand," you said, gently holding the hand that gripped your thigh. "And you don’t always have to have all the answers, Cait. It’s okay to feel lost. You can lean on me for these things and anything else."
She didn’t speak for a long moment, simply watching you, and for once, her face displayed a vulnerability she rarely showed. Finally, she sighed, letting the tension in her face melt away.
"I know," she murmured, almost as a confession. "Sometimes it’s just hard not to feel like a burden."
"You’re never a burden to me," you assured her, leaning in and wrapping your arms around her, your fingers tenderly running through her hair. She responded with a soft sigh of relief. "You’re the strongest person I know, Cait. And that strength doesn’t make you invulnerable. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You carry so much responsibility and expectation, and you handle it as best you can. You can share that with me too, love. I’m not in your life just to enjoy your company and admire your beautiful face."
With an intense gaze, Caitlyn gently squeezed your hand, displaying a rare tenderness. "Thank you," she whispered, her tone much softer than usual. "Thank you for this. For always being there when I need it. For knowing what I need when I don’t even know myself."
You moved a little closer and, without thinking, kissed her forehead, a warm and comforting gesture. "I’ll always be here, Cait. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders."
She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to rest in your presence. And although the day's worries wouldn't vanish immediately, there was something about that small gesture, that silent connection between you two, that made her feel less alone. She knew that, no matter what, she would always have a refuge in you.
Jayce
The door creaked open, and instantly, the tension that Jayce carried with him filled the room like an unwelcome guest. He stood in the doorway, his figure worn down as if each step of his day had chipped away at his strength. His face was a canvas of frustration and exhaustion, the lines of weariness on his forehead barely hidden by his tousled hair. The warm light of home contrasted sharply with the cold night air, but even the comforting ambiance seemed powerless against the heavy burden he bore.
Without a word, you moved towards him, your presence a sanctuary in the storm he was weathering. You gently took his cold hands in yours and led him to the couch, where he sank down with a deep, weary sigh. The weight of the day clung to him, a cloak of responsibility and fatigue. He barely acknowledged you as you spoke.
"Rough day?" Your voice was gentle, laced with concern.
Jayce exhaled sharply, his exhaustion evident as he turned his head to you. "More than you can imagine." His tone was rough, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Viktor and I... the experiment in the lab was a disaster. Then, the Council meeting... a complete mess. I’m not even sure how I made it back here tonight." His voice cracked for a moment, followed by a bitter laugh. "And tomorrow? I have to give that damned speech to the entire city. I haven’t even started writing it."
The air felt thick, laden with everything he couldn't put into words. You squeezed his hand, holding it with a tenderness that cut through the fog of his mind. "Breathe, Jayce. You don’t have to solve everything at once. One step at a time."
Instinctively, you sat behind him, guiding him until his back rested against your chest. You began to massage his shoulders, feeling the tension slowly seep from his muscles. Each movement of your fingers seemed to ease his burdens, though his sighs suggested the thoughts still swirled in his mind.
"I’ll help you with the speech," you offered softly. "We’ll write it together. You don’t have to face it all alone."
Jayce closed his eyes briefly, as if clinging to your words to prevent drowning in his thoughts. "But... it all depends on me. If I screw this up, the consequences are massive. I can’t afford to fail." His voice broke, and he sat up abruptly, anxiety gripping him once more.
"It’s just a speech, Jayce. It doesn’t define you." You wrapped your arms around his torso, holding him from behind. "What matters most to me is that it doesn’t destroy you. The city needs you, yes. But you need yourself too."
A long sigh escaped his chest, a release of some of the weight he'd been carrying. "How do you stay so calm through all of this? How do you have the patience to listen to my problems over and over?" His tone softened, a realization of what your presence meant to him.
"Because I love you, you big lug. And because I respect you," you said without hesitation. "Now... first things first. Dinner. I made your favorite." You whispered in his ear, the warmth of your embrace surrounding him, offering a sliver of peace. "Then, I’ll draw you a bath. You need to relax, to stop thinking about everything for a while. We’ll have dinner together, and afterward, we’ll stay up as long as you need. I’ll help with the speech. And if you need to rehearse all night, we will. The important thing is you’re not facing it alone. I’m here, Jayce, because I know how much this means to you."
Jayce let the silence hang for a moment, absorbing your words, your support the anchor he desperately needed. Slowly, he turned to look at you, his face finally showing signs of easing. "I don’t deserve you," he murmured, a small pout forming on his lips.
"Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my spoiled giant baby," you teased with a soft laugh, cupping his face with care.
Jayce chuckled, a low, grateful sound that was music to your ears, and you hugged him tighter, feeling the anxiety that had gripped him start to dissipate. "Can we stay like this a little longer?" he asked quietly, his tone vulnerable, more human than ever.
"Of course, love," you whispered. "There’s no rush tonight."
And there, between tender laughs and promises of unwavering support, time seemed to pause. In that moment, there was only the two of you, the warmth of home, and the certainty that, no matter what the next day brought, you would face it together.
Ekko
The sound of gears grinding and tools sparking filled Ekko's workshop, a familiar symphony that usually brought him a sense of calm. But today, the rhythm was frantic, almost as if he believed that focusing on the intricate mechanical details could help him outrun the weight pressing down on his heart. It wasn’t working.
"Ekko, what’s wrong?" Your voice was soft, almost a whisper, yet it cut through the tension hanging thick in the air. You could sense something was off, not just from the hurried way he moved but from the pallor that had taken over his face in the past few hours.
He didn’t answer right away. His fingers continued their precise dance over the wires and components, but there was a distant look in his eyes, a clear sign that his mind was far from the task at hand. Finally, he looked up, and though he tried to hide it, you could see the frustration and pain etched into his features.
"Things are... out of control," he admitted, his voice heavy. "The people of Zaun keep dying, and we can’t do anything about it. The illnesses are spreading, the air is becoming unbreathable, and the solutions... they seem further away than ever. How am I supposed to lead them when I have nothing to offer?"
His question lingered in the air, a cry of desperation in the stillness. Ekko had borne the weight of leading the Firelights since their inception. It was his strength, his refuge, yet also his greatest burden. Every day, he witnessed more of his people falling victim to the oppression and the harsh realities of Zaun, the toxic air swallowing those he cared about, and the seeming futility of their efforts gnawed at his resolve. What could one do when everything seemed stacked against them?
"Ekko," you approached him, gently taking his hands in yours. "Listen to me. I know what you're thinking. I know it feels like everything is collapsing, like there’s no way out. But you're not alone in this. You have the Firelights, and you have me. Caitlyn Kiramman might be able to help with this problem."
Ekko raised an eyebrow, confused. He knew Caitlyn, as an Enforcer, symbolized the oppressive system that had kept Zaun in misery, but he also knew you didn’t speak lightly. You must have had a plan.
"I don’t trust Piltover," Ekko muttered, his tone firm. "Or their damn Enforcers. How am I supposed to ask someone like Caitlyn for help? After everything they’ve done to us?"
"I know," you said, gently stroking his hands to calm him, "but hear me out. You're not just asking Caitlyn for help. You’re asking the person who owes me a few favors. Trust me. I think we can secure some supplies, maybe some of the medicines we need, at least to keep us going for a while. Something to help the Firelights keep fighting. Don’t see it as surrendering, Ekko; it’s a step towards giving us a real chance to make our voices heard."
For a moment, Ekko stared at the ground, lost in thought. It was clear he struggled to trust anyone outside his circle, especially someone like Caitlyn, who embodied Piltover’s oppressive power. But your words resonated with him, and for the first time that day, something inside him eased slightly.
"Maybe you’re right," he finally said, his voice low, as if only partially convinced. "But this... it can’t just be words. We need to do something real, something that actually makes a difference."
"We will," you assured him with a soft smile, trying to instill a bit of hope. "Together, step by step. Let’s start by talking to Caitlyn and see what we can secure. I don’t know how, but I believe we’ll make it happen."
Ekko looked at you, and for a moment, everything in his expression changed. The usual anger gave way to a mixture of gratitude and, perhaps, a hint of relief. He was exhausted, but the idea that not everything was lost gave him a tiny spark of hope.
"Thank you, babe," he murmured, his voice softer than before. "I don’t know how you do it. You always know what to say."
"That’s because I’ve learned how to deal with your stubborn, grumpy self," you said with a light laugh. "Now, how about we take a stroll through the city? Maybe a few hours of disconnecting will help."
A trace of a smile appeared on his face, though still tinged with fatigue. "What? Are you planning to make me forget all this by tagging the walls with graffiti?"
"Exactly," you responded with a mischievous grin. "That way, at least for a while, we can forget the world and do whatever we want."
Ekko finally gave in, his soft laugh filling the air as he grabbed his hoverboard. "You know, that sounds like a great idea. Let’s go before I change my mind."
And as you wandered the streets of Zaun, the weight on his shoulders didn’t entirely vanish, but for a while, Ekko could relax, paint his frustrations on the walls, and most importantly, remember that he wasn’t alone. Sometimes, all it took was stepping back and breathing, even if just for a moment.
Silco
The air in Silco's office was heavy, thick with the unmistakable scent of Zaun: metal, sweat, and burnt chemicals. Yet beyond those familiar odors, the room was saturated with the tension of recent events. The sting of failure clung to him, unsettling the usually composed mastermind. His meticulously laid plans had unraveled, and while his followers proclaimed loyalty, cracks in their devotion were becoming apparent. Zaun teetered on the brink of internal rebellion. The Firelights, the Enforcers, even the streets themselves seemed to be slipping through his fingers.
But what truly unsettled him, what gnawed at his very core, was the ever-present specter of betrayal, the fear of losing those who mattered most. In these moments, when chaos felt imminent, you chose to enter.
Silco stood with his back to you, staring out at the city’s dim lights through the window. You could sense the disquiet within him. His silhouette was somber, almost ghostly, with one hand resting on the glass. He seemed like a man who had lost faith in everything around him. Without hesitation, you approached him with a calmness that contrasted starkly with the storm raging within him.
"Silco," you began, your voice gentle but resolute. You refused to let his fragility consume him, not now. "We've faced this before. You don’t have to bear it all alone."
At first, he remained silent. The tension in his frame was palpable, and you could tell he was fighting a battle he wasn’t ready to share. Yet, you knew that struggle all too well. Beneath his layers of hatred and ambition lay a man as broken and vulnerable as any other.
Finally, he turned toward you, his eyes, usually burning with disdain, now dulled. "You don’t understand," he said, his voice low, roughened by a restrained fury. "This isn’t like before. It’s not just about winning anymore. It’s about maintaining control, about not losing everything. If I fail now, all we’ve built will be for nothing. What’s looming isn’t just a challenge—it’s war, and I need to be ready."
You stepped closer, studying the exhaustion etched into his face. His words were a glimpse into the turmoil that consumed him. "You will be ready. We will be ready. But isolating yourself in this downward spiral won’t help."
Silco’s gaze met yours, and for a fleeting moment, vulnerability surfaced. He appeared more human, less the monster Zaun feared. But his pride fought to keep that part of him hidden.
"I don’t need your pity," he said, though his words lacked conviction, a feeble defense against the truth you were unveiling. "Spare me the empty reassurances."
"They’re not empty," you replied, your voice steady. "I know what you’re feeling. This isn’t just about controlling Zaun. This is about you."
A heavy silence followed, thick with unspoken truths. Silco’s brow furrowed, not in anger but in contemplation. "It’s a war I can’t win. The city hates me, even my own daughter—"
"Don’t speak of her as if you’re some monster," you interrupted gently but firmly. "Jinx needs you, and you need her. This war isn’t just against Piltover, Silco. It’s against yourself. And if you keep fighting it alone, you will lose."
The room was still, the weight of your words settling in the air. Silco’s expression softened, touched by a realization he couldn’t deny. He wasn’t accustomed to being seen so clearly, to having his inner battles laid bare.
You took another step forward and, without allowing him time to withdraw, you took his hand. "You don’t have to do this alone," you whispered. "Not now, not ever."
For a brief moment, conflict flickered across his features, but then it happened—he relented. It wasn’t the surrender of a defeated man but of someone willing to trust, if only for a moment, that there was more to life than his solitary fight.
"I don’t know why you persist in keeping me upright," he murmured, his voice softer, laced with weariness. "Sometimes… sometimes it feels like too much."
"It’s not," you assured him without hesitation. "We’ll face it together. I won’t let you fall."
Silco said nothing more, but he didn’t pull away as you held his hand more firmly, a silent acceptance of your comfort. And for the first time in a long while, the cold steel of his demeanor cracked, if only for a fleeting second.
Mel
Mel's balcony was as sleek and cold, a testament to her meticulous nature. The soft glow of lanterns cast a gentle light over the cityscape, illuminating the endless sea of Piltover's lights below. Yet, amidst the serenity of the night, an unseen storm brewed within her. Tonight, her mind wasn't consumed with political maneuvers or strategic plans. Something far deeper gnawed at her: the weight of her ambitions had begun to manifest in ways she hadn't anticipated, threatening to fracture the carefully constructed facade of her life.
She stood by the railing, gazing out at the city that never slept, as if the twinkling lights could somehow chase away the growing void in her heart. You could see it—the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers gripped the railing a little too tightly. She was a picture of composed authority, yet the subtle cracks in her armor betrayed the turmoil within.
"Mel..." Your voice, soft yet firm, broke the silence. You approached from behind, your footsteps light but deliberate. You didn't need to be loud; she had always been attuned to your presence, as if you existed in a part of her consciousness she couldn't ignore.
Mel turned slowly, her face a mask of unyielding calm, but her eyes... her eyes told a different story. They held a flicker of vulnerability, a silent plea she wasn't ready to voice. "What is it?" Her voice was cool, almost detached, but you knew better. The detachment was a shield, one she had crafted over years of political warfare.
"What’s wrong?" you asked again, your gaze unwavering as you closed the distance between you. You could sense her struggle, her reluctance to admit that something was amiss. "I can see it, Mel. You're not okay."
She sighed—a sound so heavy it seemed to carry the weight of the city. It wasn't frustration; it was the exhaustion of someone who had carried too much for too long. "It’s Piltover. My role in the Council... I can't keep up with it all," she admitted, her words slow, measured, as if each one was a reluctant confession. "I’ve been playing this game for so long, but the pieces are moving in directions I can’t control. And..."
Her voice faltered, and she didn't need to continue. You understood. This wasn't about Piltover alone. It was about her, about the toll her ambitions had taken on her soul. Here, on this balcony, she wasn't the indomitable Mel Medarda. She was a woman, weary and yearning for something she couldn't quite name.
"Mel, not everything needs to be under control. Not everything needs to be perfect," you said gently, stepping closer. "You can handle what’s happening in Piltover, but you don’t have to carry it all on your own."
Her eyes darted away, as if looking at you would make her break. She was so used to being the one in control, to bearing the burdens without complaint. "And if I fail... what then? What’s left after all of this? I've given everything to Piltover… everything."
Her voice trembled with a sadness that cut through you. Despite her steely exterior, you knew there was a part of her that longed for something more—connection, peace, perhaps even love. But the world she had built around herself left little room for such indulgences.
"If you fail, Mel, you’ll have the chance to start over. You don’t have to keep fighting for something that's slipping through your fingers," you said, your voice steady as you reached for her. "Sometimes, letting go of what we fear losing the most is what sets us free."
Mel's eyes met yours, and in them, you saw a vulnerability she rarely showed. She wasn’t used to conversations like this, to empathy. But in your gaze, she found something she hadn’t seen in a long time: safety, support, and perhaps... the promise of something different. Something better.
"I know it’s not easy," you continued, your hand gently brushing her arm. "But you don’t have to carry the weight of Piltover alone. You have people who respect you, who admire you. There are other ways to move forward without losing yourself in the process."
The silence that followed was thick, but not oppressive. It was as if the night itself was holding its breath, waiting for her response. For a moment, Mel said nothing. Then, her lips, always so carefully set in lines of authority, softened. "And if I fail… what happens to you?"
"You won’t fail," you said with a conviction that only you could have. "But even if you did, I’d be right here, helping you rebuild. Because what really matters isn’t the power or the control. What really matters is you, Mel."
For a second, she looked at you as if seeing you for the first time. The iron-willed woman everyone knew, the strategist, the leader, was now gazing at you with a newfound sense of recognition. And in that moment, she allowed herself a rare indulgence: she let her guard down.
"Maybe... maybe it’s not always about winning," she murmured, more to herself than to you. "Maybe you're right."
You smiled softly, knowing that Mel had just taken a step towards something beyond ambition—towards her humanity.
Sevika
The night had fallen with an oppressive stillness, but Sevika couldn’t find peace. The hours had dragged her into a whirlwind of stress and frustration. Each minute felt heavier than the last, and the air around her seemed thick, as if the city itself was pressing down on her chest. The decisions she had to make, the moves she had to plan, the constant need to watch over and protect her people… all of it had left her exhausted. But what weighed her down the most was the lack of control over her own life.
The shadows of the streets seemed to stretch out, enveloping her with an invisible pressure. Silco, as if things weren’t bad enough, was more erratic than ever, his paranoia brushing the edges of madness. To top it off, Jinx had played one of her twisted jokes: locking her in a room with a bomb that looked ready to explode. Sevika had been on the brink of death, only to discover that the bomb was a cruel joke, the kind only Jinx could conjure. If she had the time, she would have made sure the girl paid for it. She despised feeling vulnerable. But there was more. She had to deal with some of Silco’s men, and her day culminated with a direct punch to the face, leaving a visible mark on her otherwise stoic features.
On any other day, Sevika might have sought solace or at least retreated into the quiet of solitude, but today was different. No matter what she did, the sense of losing control gnawed at her insides. She needed to see you. She needed your presence, your calm way of looking at her and making her feel that everything, even if just for a while, would be okay.
Finally, the door creaked open. The sound of your footsteps was a balm to her weary spirit, and Sevika lifted her gaze. The damp night air lent a melancholic intensity to her eyes, now etched with fatigue and disdain. Though she tried to maintain her tough exterior, you quickly noticed the bruise marking her face.
“What happened?” Your voice, soft yet filled with concern, echoed in the room. Sevika tried to muster a smile, but it was futile.
“Just another day, you know?” she rasped, moving to lean against the table. She wasn’t about to crumble in front of you, but the exasperation in her tone was unmistakable. “Silco’s paranoid as ever. Jinx pulled one of her idiotic pranks… locked me in a room with a fake bomb about to explode. I thought I’d die there, amidst confetti and laughter. And if that wasn’t enough, one of Silco’s guys managed to land a punch on me.”
Your gaze, laced with worry and tenderness, softened instantly. You stepped forward, cupping her face gently, trying to ease the storm swirling inside her. Sevika stood still, unresponsive at first, but the hard lines of her face began to relax, even if only slightly.
“Why didn’t you call me?” you asked, your eyes never leaving hers, your words carrying a silent concern. You knew she hated appearing weak, but it didn’t matter; you would never see her that way. Sevika closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a long sigh.
“You know I don’t like to worry you.” Her tone was sharp, but softer than before. She could feel how your warmth affected her in ways she wasn’t ready to admit, but needed more than she was willing to acknowledge.
Without missing a beat, you acted. With a small smile, you stepped back a little, creating some space to prepare something that might bring her some comfort.
“Tonight, I’m making something special for my strong and sexy warrior,” you said, a mix of tenderness and teasing in your voice. “It’s not much, but I know you’ll like it.” You headed to the kitchen, and instead of a typical meal, you decided on something you knew would make Sevika smile: a homemade chocolate cupcake, with a hint of vanilla and a soft cream topping. While the sweet treat took shape, you thought about how this small gesture might lighten the night. The smell of freshly baked chocolate began to fill the air.
Sevika raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a slight smile. “A cupcake?” she asked, almost playfully, though her voice held a softness rarely heard. “Am I a child needing comfort now?”
“Maybe,” you replied, smiling as you set the table. “Sometimes we all need something simple and sweet.” You playfully tapped her nose.
With the cupcake served and a cup of aromatic tea, the two of you sat together, letting the calm settle for a moment. As she savored the cupcake, your fingers brushed hers gently, as if that simple touch could convey something deeper. Sevika’s gaze, usually so hard and closed off, softened as it met yours.
“Thank you,” she whispered, almost with a humility that was unlike her. “I needed this more than I thought.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” you said with a gentle smile, intertwining your fingers with hers.
And in that moment, it didn’t matter what was happening in the outside world. For an instant, everything else faded away. Only that small space between the two of you existed, where love and understanding felt like the answer to all the burdens Sevika carried within.
#arcane x reader#arcane fanfic#arcane imagine#arcane x female reader#arcane#arcane fluff#arcane x you#ekko arcane#jinx arcane#jinx x reader#viktor imagine#viktor arcane#viktor x you#viktor x reader#arcane vi#vi x you#vi x reader#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn x reader#ekko x reader#arcane jayce#jayce x reader#arcane silco#silco x reader#mel arcane#mel x reader#sevika x reader#sevika x you#sevika arcane#viktor x y/n
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BDSMaid - Chapter 9
Series Summary: In order to save money for law school, you accept a job working as a maid for high end clients. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in more than just your curiosity peaks. Word Count: 5k CW: see small red lettering below the cut AN: I'm going to miss them!! I'm absolutely heartbroken that I'm done, but so fucking proud of myself for what I've created. Thank you to @lotusbxtch for being my beta from pretty much the very beginning. I am so grateful to you and so honoured (yes, with a u because I'm Canadian lol) to call you my friend. Also little shoutouts to @for-a-longlongtime, @alltheirdamn, @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for listening to me go on about them for 80% of 2024. As always, graphics and dividers by @saradika-graphics
My Masterlist || Series Masterlist
TW: unprotected p in v, one spank, multiple orgasms and Overstim hinted at, pining, heartbreak
Eight Months Later
Joel
“I got yelled at by a feisty brunette last night at that gala,” Tommy says as the two of them sip whiskey at the bar of the club.
“Probably deserved it.” Joel deadpans and closes the folder of invoices he’s looking over.
He should be doing this in his fancy, and newly renovated, office across the street. He was in the large office for all of three minutes the day after you left when he could only see the ghost of you. From the chair you sat in when you first asked him to teach you how to be a sub, to the door he pinned you against and confessed how out of his mind he was over you, everything was you, and it had to go if he had any chance of following what you needed from him. Joel hasn’t even been in his room at the club out of the fear of what it would do to him. Would I still be able to smell the lavender of her shampoo in there? Still be able to hear her beautiful cries of pleasure and pain bouncing off the walls?
“She thought I was you,” Tommy says, glancing over at his brother and interrupting Joel’s impending spiral.
Joel sighs, slipping his reading glasses from his face before taking a long pull of the amber liquor from his crystal glass. Tommy looks straight ahead as he continues.
“She’s doing great, by the way. Or at least that’s what her friend said when she was scolding me.”
Joel winces at his words, “Of course she is, Tommy.” Even though it's been almost a year since you left, just the mention of you rips his barely-mended heart back in half. It doesn’t seem to matter how much time passes, he still feels like he did in his kitchen.
The very fibers of his being ache just as hard for you now as they did then. He longs to see you and touch you, to feel your warm, soft skin under his hands again. Anyone before you was always, ‘Yes, Mister Miller,’ even when they weren’t in a scene; but not you. You weren’t afraid to be curious and unapologetically yourself. He hasn’t laughed as hard with anyone, including Tiffany, as he did with you. But the part that he misses the most is the way you look at him the first time you see him. Your eyes soften, velvety pink lips parting slightly before they curl into a smile that makes his heart hammer behind his ribs. Then, he watches your shoulders relax and it makes him feel like he hung the moon and stars for you, and if he could have, he would have.
He clears his throat and then rasps, “She’s too smart to not be doing well.”
Tommy stands, bringing his hands to rub at Joel's shoulders. He squeezes his tense deltoid muscles and with a hint of mischief in his voice he says, “Lots of pretty girls here tonight if you feel like moving on.”
Joel shakes his head and pulls away from Tommy’s grasp with a grunt. “Never gonna happen. Get outta here before you get yelled at two nights in a row.”
“Just too bad for me that you aren’t a hot brunette,” Tommy says with a laugh.
“I have brown hair,” Joel replies defensively, running his fingers through the grown out curls.
“Not to kick you when you’re down, but it’s mostly grey at this point.”
Joel holds up a single finger at Tommy over his shoulder as he laughs and walks away.
Two and a half years later
You
You’ve been up to your eyeballs in studying as you prepare for your finals. These last few years in California have been the hardest yet most fulfilling time of your life. Two nights in a row now, you’ve fallen asleep in the library, only waking when your Spotify would switch from the white noise playlist you use to help you focus, to your “getting ready” playlist. After dragging yourself to your dorm room in the dead of the night, you’d get a few restless hours of sleep before heading right back to your favourite studying spot. You can’t believe that in just a few short weeks you’ll be graduating and stepping into the life you’ve always envisioned for yourself.
The unmistakable FaceTime jingle fills your AirPods. Jamie’s name is splayed across the screen of your phone, along with a photo of the two of you at Albany Beach when she visited this past Christmas break. You put your highlighter down and slide the answer toggle over.
“Hey!” She says, her warm smile shining up at you. You squint, trying to place where she is. You don’t often let yourself think of Joel, but the cracks across your screen make FaceTiming difficult, and the selfish side of you always wishes you had grabbed that new phone before you left. Your head cocks to the side; broken screen or not, you don’t recognize the background.
“Where are you?” You ask.
“Oh, I’m good, thanks. How are you?” She jests with a mocking eye roll. “I’m at a cabin.”
“What cabin?” You say, glaring at her jokingly. A deep laugh comes from the otherside of the phone and your eyes widen. “Who’s that?”
The man's voice comes from offscreen, “I can’t believe you thought she wouldn’t ask where you were. She’s going to be a lawyer, for god's sake.”
“Jamie, who is that? What is going on here? Blink twice if you need rescuing!” You joke.
Jamie blushes, looking over the phone at whoever that voice is coming from. “I just wanted to call to see how the studying is going, and to let you know that I got the graduation tickets.”
A glass of white wine appears in front of Jamie and she smiles before puckering her lips in a kissing motion towards the man in the room with her. “Ok, seriously, who the fuck is that and where are you?”
“I was also calling to let you know that Laren can’t make it anymore and Odette is in New York,” she takes a small sip of her wine.
“Oh, well that’s ok,” you say, trying to squash the disappointment and hoping it doesn’t show in your voice or face. You wished that at least two of your three best friends would be there for you. “It can just be me and you, baby!”
“Well…I’m wondering if I could maybe bring my boyfriend? Might be a good opportunity for you two to meet.”
“What? What boyfriend?” You say, officially abandoning all study materials until you get some answers. Jamie raises a perfectly manicured finger and calls the mystery man over.
You swallow hard as Tommy Miller appears beside her.
Jamie glances up at him, her bright green eyes full of admiration, his mirroring hers. The starry look in their eyes tells you everything you need to know; they’re so far gone for that even a search and rescue team wouldn’t be able to save them. She looks back at you. “Meet again, I guess.”
You try to push for answers, but either of them give in, claiming you need to focus on finals. Before you hang up, Jamie promises to tell you the entire story when you see each other next. You’re happy for your friend, especially seeing the way Tommy looked back at her. Even through your cracked screen you could see the love, but as you try to go back to studying you have a hollow feeling in your stomach.
Graduation Day
You
The late afternoon sun fills your dorm room, boxes of your belongings stacked haphazardly around you. After walking the stage tonight, you are going out to dinner with Jamie and Tommy, and then he has paid for a hotel suite so the two of you can have a girls’ night. You can’t wait to hear how Tommy went from, in Jamie’s previous words, “my dad’s new asshole friend” to her boyfriend.
You step in front of your floor length mirror, zipping up the black graduation gown over your knee length, form fitting, deep emerald velvet dress. The California sun has been good to you, your tanned legs and sunkissed nose and cheeks are glowing. You place your blue and yellow Berkeley Law stole over your head and then grab your cap, ensuring the ‘Class of ‘28’ tassel is secure. You fluff your curls one last time as a light knock comes from your door.
“Ready to graduate, gorgeous?” Ronan smiles at you, eyes trailing down your gown. He’s the type of handsome that’s almost painful to look at, but more importantly - you wouldn’t have made it through these last three years without him. You met the first day - the lock on your door wasn’t working, and he waltzed in on you half naked when he mistook your room as his.
You smile at him in your doorway now; remembering the way you screamed at him that first time, trying to cover your chest, and him scrambling to close the door. His eyes were clamped shut, and he slammed his finger so hard that you had to take him for stitches. Now, several years later, he fills out his graduation gown perfectly with those wide rugby shoulders, a sight you couldn’t even have imagined back then. Whichever angel made him didn’t make a single mistake - he’s tall and insanely broad, with dark sandy blonde hair, and clover green eyes that in the right light are a golden hazel. He’s easily one of the smartest men you’ve ever met and an incredible athlete. The cherry on top, because of course there’s more: he’s an international student and has a panty-melting Irish accent.
“Beyond ready. Let's become lawyers, babe.”
He steps aside, one arm out in a ‘ladies first’ gesture. Handsome, charming, and thoughtful - a dangerous trifecta. You slide your hand in the crook of his muscle-lined arm and walk across campus together.
Ronan jerks his head towards the coffee cart. “Remember when you spilled your entire coffee on your new puffer jacket?”
You glare up at him, you saved for weeks to buy that jacket. “No, but I remember you throwing up in that trash can after the Halloween party last year.”
“Well, if Beach Party Barbie had helped Lifeguard Ken with all those shots we wouldn’t have had that problem, would we?” You laugh as Ronan puffs out his chest, but you both know he was more than willing to take your half of the ‘Best Couples Costume' shots.
Finally, you reach the courtyard where the law students will be walking across a stage that acts as the symbolic bridge to the rest of their lives. I’m a lawyer, you think to yourself and try to force a smile. The magnitude of the day only really starts to sink into your bones as you see the friends and families of your classmates start to take their seats. The excited feeling you had earlier starts to morph. You’re proud of yourself for what you’ve done these last three years, and this was just the first step. You have so much to look forward to, so why do you feel a sense of dread building in the pit of your stomach?
Ronan walks you to where you need to line up alphabetically, kissing your cheek and then, after leaning in and placing his large hand on your lower back, he whispers a joke about how you better not trip. You glance around the thick crowd for Jamie and Tommy. After realizing it’s hopeless to try and spot them in a group this large, you slip your cap over your hair and get in the procession line.
You try to soak in every minute of the day, from the speeches to the birds chirping in the background, but something akin to loss flutters at the base of your spine. You’re just as sad to be leaving Berkely as you are excited to carve out your future. Leaving here isn’t what’s causing you to feel this way, however. You try to tell yourself that maybe it’s just nerves; even with all the job offers coming in from your internships, it’s normal to be nervous about what comes next.
As the student union president gives his toast to the family and friends, you look down at your lap, pushing back the cuticle on your left thumb. Maybe it’s leaving Ronan. He’s been an anchor for you, grounding you almost every day of the last three years and you don’t know how you let yourself become this dependent on anyone, especially a man, again.
You shake your head at yourself and try to move your focus to the cuticle on your other thumb. Seeing the skin clean from the nail bed eases the tension slightly for you. ‘I’m allowed to be nervous when leaning on people, but not everyone will leave me,’ you recite almost automatically in your mind, the mantra you’ve had these past few years whenever you feel yourself getting this anxious. Just as you finish the thought, a car revs in the distance and the realization of what - or who - you’re actually missing slams through you so hard that you almost feel winded. Your lungs ache, tears pushing behind your eyes as his name rings loudly through your mind.
Joel.
You kept yourself busy since the minute you left Austin. The busier you were, the less time you had to focus on the void in your heart. During the school year, you didn’t have to find things to stay busy with; law school nearly chewed you up and spit you out. Over the summers, you worked as an intern and visited your friends. There was never a quiet moment, never too much time alone with your thoughts, and it was better this way. You can confidently say that you’d only thought of Joel six times since you walked out of his house that day: when you fell asleep on the beach and were so sunburnt you could barely move for three days; when you failed your first test; when your rusted SUV, that acted as your ticket to freedom at eighteen, died on the freeway in rush hour (from that point on you had to rely on public transportation to get you to the homes you cleaned). When you experienced your first earthquake; when you stayed up for forty-two hours straight after your partner in a group project didn’t have their side of the work done; and, lastly, this past New Year’s Eve when you were in Austin and thought you saw him at a party.
“Is he here?”, that little box of feelings that you shut away in a vault long ago wonders. “Has anything changed for him in the last three years?”
The small smile that pulls at your cheeks, and the excited flutter of your heart when you think about the possibility of seeing him again, proves that maybe nothing has changed for you. As the minutes tick by, your mind races with all the possible scenarios for after the ceremony. What if he is here? What will you say? What will he say? How will Ronan react, you know he has strong feelings about what happened between you and Joel. Even worse though, what if he’s not here? But maybe he’s at the hotel where Tommy and Jamie are staying?
Before you know it, your row is standing and walking single file towards the stage. With each strike of your high-heeled strappy sandals against the concrete, a memory of Joel floods your system. The toast he made you in his kitchen, the kiss in that dimly lit hallway on your birthday, the way he walked you through his club and how calmly he talked about you being in charge before going into the voyeur room. The multitude of orgasms he gave you within the four walls of his private room. Him singing on the small stage of the dive bar you found, followed by him spanking you right there in the bathroom with his hand clamped to your face to keep you quiet. His strong hand grasping your thigh as he drove you to his house. The way he tasted on your tongue. The smell of his skin: all ash and leather, occasionally mixed with whiskey or mint. The feel of his body: hard, broad and hot. His shuddered breaths as he confessed so many things in so few words.
‘It’s only you, sweet girl.’
‘Just call me Joel.’
‘I know, and I’m so proud of you, sweet girl.’
You carefully walk up the stairs, forcing the thoughts of Joel from your mind, just in time to hear your name announced as a graduate of Berkeley Law. You float across the stage, grabbing the piece of paper that acts as your degree until the real one comes, shaking the hand of the Dean who flips your tassel before you walk to the stairs on the other side; the stairs that symbolize the ending of your time here and the beginning of the rest of your life.
As you reach the top of the steps, you look out into the audience and see Jamie. She pumps her fist in the air and before you can process the empty seat beside her, you feel it; a strong tug from behind your navel. It takes you less than a heartbeat to find him and the sight before you floods your body with a familiar warmth. Standing under a large tree at the edge of the audience, dressed in all black, and holding his Stetson hat to his heart, is Joel. For the first time in years you feel whole again.
You keep your gaze on him, worried that if you so much as blink that he’ll be gone. You are supposed to follow your classmates, but you veer left, walking towards Joel. The closer you get, the more at ease you feel. He’s real, you think, he’s here. You stop a foot or so in front of him.
“Hi, Freckles,” he whispers, his voice cracking slightly. His eyes dance around your face, almost as if he’s trying to memorize this moment. You can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling exactly how you are.
“Hi, Sweet Cheeks,” you say, the same tremble in your voice, as you try desperately to hold it together. “You’re here.”
He nods and you give him a tight-lipped smile as your mind races. There’s so much you want to say, but now that he’s standing right there in front of you after three years, you don’t know where to start.
Joel breaks the silence, jutting his chin in the direction of the other graduates as he says, “I saw you come in with your boyfriend. When I saw you kiss, I was going to leave, but I made you a promise.”
You knit your eyebrows together and take a step closer. “Boyfriend?”
“The man you walked over here with,” Joel says, his black Stetson sliding down the chest you so desperately want to touch as he drops his hands to his sides. He’s left no barriers between the two of you except the heartbreak that’s evident on his face.
You laugh quietly, “No, he’s - that’s Ronan.”
Joel nods. “Okay.”
“He’s my friend,” you clarify, and when Joel’s face stays the same, you add, “And he’s still as gay as the day we first met!”
Joel lets out a whoosh of a breath and closes the distance between the two of you, his free hand comes to one of your curls, twirling the end of it around his thick fingers. Soft and silky meets rough and calloused. “I’m so proud of you, Freckles.”
You don’t miss how he watches your tongue dart between your lips, “Thank you.”
“So? How does it feel?” He gives you a soft crooked smile, his dimple carving into the short facial hair of his salt and pepper beard. Between that smile, and the way his brown eyes wash over you, you’re overcome with affection. He let you go. He did exactly as you asked him. He didn’t chase you or try to convince you to stay. You told him if he really loved you, then he’d do exactly this; and in turn, he did what he said he would.
He showed up.
“I love you,” you state and the air between you turns electric, almost like this moment could either set you both aflame or act as a generator for your future together. Joel gives you that look, the one that makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe. He lets the curled end of your hair slip from his fingers, reaching up towards your graduation cap but hesitating.
“May I?” He rasps and swallows hard.
You nod, and knowing exactly what he’s going for, you take the Stetson from his other hand and place it on your head after he removes your cap. The brim of it blocks out everything but the two of you.
“Say that again, sweet girl,” he murmurs.
“I love you,” it’s barely a whisper this time. “Even after three years apart, you are everything to me. I asked you to let me go so I could accomplish this, and you did. You’ve always done what I asked, what I needed. I’m not sorry for what happened between us, but I am sorry that I missed out on getting to spend the last three years with you looking at me how you are now. I love you, Joel Miller.”
He brings his lips within a breath of yours, and your body practically vibrates with the knowledge that if you leaned just a bit forward, you’d finally have his mouth on you again. You can almost taste the mint on his tongue as the familiar fragrance of ash and leather surround you. “I have dreamed of hearing those three words leave your beautiful lips more times than I can count, baby. You’re it for me. I’ll do anything for you, even if it means breaking my own heart, but I’m always going to be here for you, rooting for you and encouraging you. I’m glad you’re not sorry, because I’m not, I’m so fucking proud of you. I love you, too, my sweet girl.”
Finally, he presses his warm, firm lips against yours while pulling you tight to his body. You wrap an arm around his neck, holding the black cowboy hat against your head with your other hand. It doesn’t matter that the ceremony isn’t done, or that there are hundreds of people to your right. For the first time in three years, everything goes quiet. He hums contentedly and you feel yourself melt against him, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss. He parts his lips, letting you take the first swipe of your tongue against his. Need floods your system, and based on the way he grinds into you, he’s feeling the same.
He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours. “Take me home,” you practically purr.
“Where do you want home to be? I’ll go anywhere,” Joel rasps, running his nose down the bridge of yours.
“Austin,” you respond, your breath catching as his lips ghost along the side of your mouth.
“I sold my portion of the club to Tommy and Tess. I don’t have anything holding me in Austin anymore, sweet girl. If you have a job offer you really want, that’s where we’ll go.” You pull back to look at him. You can tell by the set of his jaw that he’s serious.
“I want to go to Austin. I have a job offer there.”
“Good thing I told Tommy not to touch my room at the club then.”
“That’s a very good thing,” you moan and then pull him in to kiss again. The audience behind you erupts into cheers, celebrating the accomplishments of every student in that crowd.
You’re a lawyer, and suddenly, the future doesn’t seem so scary.
Joel
Taking you home to Austin that night unfortunately wasn’t an option. After finding Jamie in the crowd, and being formally introduced to Ronan, he called the car to pick up the three of you. You all met Tommy at the restaurant, celebrating with all the expensive homemade pasta and overpriced wine that you wanted; even though seeing you in that curve-hugging velvet dress was slowly killing him. Joel had kept at least one hand on you since seeing you again, and he doesn’t plan on changing that anytime soon.
He didn’t want to rush you on your big night, so he waited patiently, listening to you tell stories of your last three years, and revelling in the evident joy that you and Jamie share over being together again. When dessert comes around he catches Tommy’s attention and gives him a small smile. It’s fitting that the two brothers, who have been so close their entire lives, would fall in love with best friends.
Once in his room, he spent two hours stripping you down at an almost painfully slow pace. He kissed every inch of your skin twice over and has pulled five orgasms, and counting, out of you so far.
Now, Joel is seated in the wide velvet arm chair in the corner of his hotel suite. His cock is buried deep inside of your tight cunt as you straddle him. Your skin feels like butter under his hands as he trails them along your back and the globes of your perfect ass. He’s missed tying you up, but this is what he longed for: the earth shattering intimacy he feels with you in these moments.
“Please,” you mumble into his neck, desperate to move your hips.
“Not until you answer me,” he demands softly. “How many times was it that you needed me, but were too stubborn to reach out?”
Earlier tonight you told him about the six times you really needed him. He’d kissed you softly after each confession, returning the trust with a time he needed you. After the last one, he’d pulled back to look at you with dark eyes. He’d hated that you needed him and he couldn’t be there. He’d clenched his back molars twice before he said you’d be denied six orgasms the next time you were at the club, but tonight you have permission to come as often as you need to.
He swats your already reddened ass cheek and your pussy flutters as you cry out. “Mister Miller, stop. Please, just let me move.”
“Do you need to use your safeword?”
“No,” you respond with a pout.
“How many times?” He says again through gritted teeth, even though already knows the answer.
“Six,” you sob.
He tuts and then growls, “That doesn’t sound like my good girl, does it?”
You shake your head against his throat and moan a sound of disagreement.
“Do you want to come for me again?”
“Yes, Mister Miller. Please!”
He trails his fingers up and down your back again, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin makes it easy for him to caress you. He smiles to himself at the shiver that racks through your body at his touch. You react so beautifully to him. “Yeah? You wanna grind your swollen little clit on my piercing, baby girl?”
“Please,” you whine again, stretching out all the vowels in the word.
“Show me. Ride my cock, take what you need.”
You lift your head from the crook in his neck and pull back slightly, rocking your hips back and forth; a sultry laugh leaves his lips at your eagerness. You look at him with hooded eyes, hair stuck to your forehead. His eyes trail down your neck to the bruises he sucked into your collar bone earlier and then to your breasts; both of which are covered in his marks. He watches the little gold nipple clamps, and the chain that connects them, bounce with each flick of your hips.
“That’s it, sweet girl. You look like a goddess, my goddess. Who do you belong to?”
“I’m yours, baby,” you say through shallow breaths. He pulls at the chain and you cry out in pain. “S-sorry, Mister Miller.”
“Again, sweet girl. Tell me who you belong to.”
“Oh fuck, y-you, Mist -” his hands come to your face and when he whispers your name the rest of your sentence dies on your tongue.
“Just call me Joel.” The commanding voice of his alter ego is gone as he says it.
Your hips slow, changing from a frantic back and forth to a sensual swirling motion. “I’m yours, Joel. Forever.”
He kisses you softly, a silent telling of how vulnerable he is at this moment. “Don’t ask me to let you go ever again.”
The smile you give him causes his heart to skip, “I won’t.”
“You might, sweet girl. I won't survive it if you do, so I’m going to remind you of this moment as often as possible for the rest of my life. Remind you how much you’re loved and supported. You’re mine, Freckles.” Your hips swirl and he feels you tighten up around him. “Come for me, my sweet girl.”
“Fuck, fuck, Joel!” It’s a cry and moan all at once.
“I’m here, it’s ok, baby.” With that, your body shudders and you fall into him as you shatter. Your pussy clenches and releases rapidly around his length. His cock twitches, and once he can’t hold it anymore he relaxes, letting his orgasm rock through him in time with yours.
“I’m yours, too,” he gasps as he melts into you.
The End
Coming Soon:
Curious how Jamie ended up with her "dads new asshole friend?"
Part 2 of the BDSMaid Trilogy coming mid 2025!
Also, stay tuned for the epilogue for Joel and Sweet Girl.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller tlou#pedro pascal#joel the last of us#joel miller fanfiction#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel miller fic#daddy joel#joel miller fanfic#the last of us hbo#tlou joel#tlou hbo#joel miller x ofc#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x oc#joel miller x original character#dom!joel miller#soft!joel miller#soft dom joel
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a timeline of rafe cameron and obx actress!reader’s character’s relationship (+ their real life one) pt 2
season 2: the yearning
season 2 is where rafe's obsession with iris really grows
he's constantly wondering about her, and how she feels about him. he's so convinced that she hates him and will never speak to him again, but he has this feeling that she won't report him
after john b and sarah 'died', iris spends more of her free time with the pogues. she comforts jj, and often seems to end up bailing him out of trouble
but they don't know that rafe's managed to get her phone number, and he keeps sending her messages trying to explain what happened on the tarmac - she doesn't respond
he even tries to go to her work, but she's not working that day
as rafe spirals, he genuinely feels she's the only one who would be able to understand him
he messages her before he goes to the bahamas
r: "hey, i'm gonna be gone for a few days, but i still really need to talk to you, ok?"
r: "please, i need to explain"
r: "just give me a chance to explain"
r: "please"
iris has him under his first initial in her phone, just in case any of the pogues happen to see her notifications. finally, she decides to respond, if only to understand more (and to get him to stop texting her)
i: "ok"
rafe literally shouts with joy seeing her response, no matter how dry it is. she's finally acknowledged him
while he's away, iris goes to see barry. her mom has been getting worse, and in a way, barry understands what she's going through. he's surprisingly good to talk to and the pair end up smoking together more than once, venting about their lives
in his deluded state, rafe truly thinks he will be able to win iris over with the gold. he's dreaming about paying for her mom's medical bills, winning her favour and looking after iris, living their happy little lives together forever
iris and rafe finally talk at tannyhill, rafe pleading that he was just trying to protect his dad. surprisingly, she listens intently, and lets out some small 'hmms' and 'mhms'. they get back to neutral ground, though she's still torn between what to do, but inside, she knows rafe shouldn't go to prison for a mistake
side note: ward oversees the pair talking, noting his son's wildly erratic hand gestures and decides to keep an eye on whatever is going on between the two
they're good for a few days, and then the pogues return to kildare with a very much alive sarah and john b, and everything changes once again
iris was so busy working that she hadn't had much to do with the gang, until jj texts her that john b had been arrested, and that rafe had tried to shoot them all - safe to say she's disappointed
oh but she's so mad when she hears of him trying to drown sarah, and she fully ices him out again
rafe kidnapping iris was not his finest idea, but she won’t listen to him after she hears and he’s just so mad. he’s got her in his car on the side of the road, just trying to get her to listen but she keeps telling him she “knows what he did”
rafe doesn't register what he's done until the sound of her sobs cut through his internal monologue, shamefully apologising and dropping her home, not even trying to say anything more
he’s just mean mean mean in this season bc he's hurt, but also he wants iris so bad and when she won’t even look at him, he can't control his actions
iris hears from the pogues that there is a warrant for his arrest and can't help feel concerned for him, only to be both shocked and concerned at the sight of ward cameron blowing himself up, her being the one to console sarah on the pier
everything is awkward between the pogues now, but it only gets worse once they see the texts on iris's phone following rafe's release from jail, him asking to see her...
they completely shut her out, refusing to even speak to her, and it only serves to push her further into rafe's (extremely willing) arms
he wants her to stay with him for the next few days, unknowingly about to bring her into all the drama with the cross
iris and rafe end up kissing for the first time just before he manages to get the cross for himself, and from then on, it's on between them - they're all over each other. think making out against the wall, in bed, on the couch
they both understand each other, able to see through the tough facade they put on and be vulnerable around each other. at their core, they’re just two hurt kids clinging on to each other
rafe literally thinks he will combust if she ever tries to leave him after he got a taste
unfortunately for him, he tries to get her to come along with him to guadeloupe, but she refuses
"Rafe, I can't leave my mom…. she can't survive without me," Iris whispered.
"No, no, c'mon, we can go together and I'll make sure she's got a carer and everything, the best medical treatment, ok? I just - I just need you with me for this," Rafe pleaded, desperation seeping through his tone.
"I'm sorry Rafe, but I can't."
and just like that, the beginnings of their relationship crumble, leaving rafe feeling betrayed, hurt and angry, spiralling as he lost something he barely had, and leaving iris all alone on kildare once the pogues get lost at sea, vulnerable and hurting
season 2: behind the scenes
heheheheehhehe
season 2 is where rafe and iris get closer, and the flow on effects are felt between drew and obx actress!reader
the kisses they share on screen are so steamy it has fans freaking out, especially at the quick glimpses they get of their tongues melding together. even people from outside the fandom start resharing videos of the kiss with hashtags like #wantthis #hot #menext
like i'm talking hands in hair and 'rafe' gripping her waist like he's about to be torn away, pulling away panting, red lips, etc.
drew and obx actress!reader had both spent time looking forward to the kiss, each secretly reminiscing on the kiss at jd's party. neither objected when they had to redo the take multiple times
the lingering touches shared between their characters are also picked up on, with rafe often touching iris and keeping her close by the end of the season
drew and obx actress!reader spent more time together this season working to develop their relationship after the directors told them more of the series plans, growing their bond even more
the attention on season 2 is greater this time around, with more fans and more people interested in the actors personal lives
obx actress!reader posts a few behind the scenes pictures, but nothing that really gets tongues wagging
it's a picture posted by madison bailey that does, with drew and obx actress!reader lying next to each other on a yacht, the pair side by side as they appear deep in conversation. fans go crazy from all angles, from the tiny bikini she was wearing to drew only in his swim trunks
the pics of them getting clingy and touchy later on in the evening don't ever make it out however….
the cast just sigh, having flashbacks to the 'friendly kisses' the pair always seem to share after a few drinks
in interviews, fans learn of obx actress!reader spending christmas at drew's and they just go wild, convinced the pair are in a secret relationship
with rafe and iris becoming more important characters in season 2, interviewers are lining up to film with the two of them alone, and for the few that manage, the views on the clip are sky high
it's literally just drew and obx actress!reader flirting and giggling the whole time with each other
obx actress!reader 100% simps for drew, complimenting his new look to the interviewer and saying he looks so handsome. drew can only blush and look down at his hands, all shy and cute
ok but lets talk about the bloopers!
it's the scene where they're in the car, rafe begging iris to listen to him after trying to drown sarah, and drew is waving his hands around wildly and accidentally hits her in the head. drew is instantly all over her, tenderly brushing her hair away from her head, checking in on her and apologising so much. it's quiet, but the microphones pick up on drew whispering "are you ok, baby? 'm so sorry"
but yet, they're not in a relationship??? and then drew starts filming hellraiser and people become convinced he's dating odessa??? and everyone is just so confused (including drew and obx actress!reader)
but then? there's pictures posted by paparazzi of drew and obx actress!reader together in new york, seeming far too close to be platonic and cuddling up against each other? queue even more confused fans
hehehe
Q: if i were to give obx actress!reader a love interest to spice things up and build some more angst, who would you want to see???
#outer banks x reader#outer banks imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron headcanons#outer banks fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe x oc#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe outer banks#outer banks#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x y/n#drew x reader#drew imagine#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron#obx actress!reader#obx au#drew starkey x actress!reader#actress!reader#rafe fic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction
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some of this is lowk angsty but it’s for the plot guys don’t hate me :( also my first time writing for geto and nanami, hope I did them well enough :))
fem!reader in nobaras
warnings! — implications of homophobia in nobaras :(( not proofread
yuuji is the type of boyfriend to marry you with a ring-pop, giggling as he gets down on one knee. he ends up convincing you to slow dance with him to the sound of the wind, promising he’ll get a real ring and marry you. just don’t eat the ring-pop, he’ll get sulky if you do :((
megumi is the type of boyfriend to have a picnic with you at night, something to get away from all things jujutsu. eating his many ginger flavoured snacks, maybe a slice of something sweet you’ve brung. cuddles up to you while watching the stars, finally understanding what peace is.
nobara is the type of girlfriend to take night walks with you. gossiping about daily life, laughing at corny jokes. only to stop somewhere secluded, humming as she leans against and finally, for the first time without being ridiculed, kisses you.
satoru is the type of boyfriend to have is infinity down around you, wanting to feel your presence. it’s comforting to him, like a warm wave of love and affection. he drapes himself over you, trying to merge together with you. if he could, he’d blend you two together so you’ll never part :))
suguru is the type of boyfriend to keep something that reminds him of you in his pocket. wanting to always have you with him, being gone days on end—away from you nearly sends him spiralling, so having something similar to you puts him to rest. he wishes you’d become pocket size so he can always keep you with him :))
kento is the type of boyfriend to always bring you flowers every time he visits you at work. they’re always hand picked with meaning, wanting to gift you flowers he thought of with you in mind, often varying in different colours and species. sometimes he dries them for you, hoping you’ll use it for decoration.
choso is the type of boyfriend to sleep naked with you, not in a sexual way. choso just loves the skin-on-skin contact you give, your warm body against his cold one brings him comfort like no other. reminding him that you’re here, alive and real. he tears up, forever grateful for you, and your love.
#.yuyu#.gums#.norb#.toru#.sugu#.ken#.cho#itadori yuuji x reader#boyfriend yuuji#yuuji fluff#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fluff#there should be more nobara fics#nobara kugisaki x reader#nobara fluff#satoru gojo x reader#gojo fluff#suguru geto x reader#geto fluff#choso kamo x reader#choso fluff#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk fluff
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A/N: Chat I had to do smth cute but also slightly angsty JS NOT TO THE POINT WHERE READER DIES AGAI
Title: My Gift To You
Yeah, playing a dumb kids game with a random suited stranger that had soo much money in his suitcase in the subway was probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.
Who would have expected to be kidnapped under a bridge and brought to a gigantic place full of so many other people?
Nobody.
But at least you won against that random dude eight times before he seemed as though he got upset and ended your streak, giving you a small card before leaving and telling you to call to play games for some money..
I mean talk about human trafficking..
So here you were, standing in a crowd of people as debts got named off and people were show on screen and- wait what the fuck?
Hyun-Ju.
Your- dude that’s your girlfriend.
Uhm hello what the fuckkkk..
You’d think you would be able to see her tall self through the crowd but all of these people were blocking the way n shouting obscenities left and right.
Why was the love of your life here of all places?
Wait- nevermind, you know why.
The surgeries duh.
Idiot.
That was the same reason you were here for so why wouldn’t she also be here for that as well.
Tch.
You wish she would’ve told you instead of scting all suspicious and distant.
Then again you didn’t say shit to her though but thats different cause it just issss.
Too lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized that the guards had finally shut up, the crowd of people breaking apart slightly which gives you the chance to find your girlfriend.
You move through the crowd, eyes catching the tall figure and short hair of your lover whos back is slightly turned away from you, hands clasped together showing her hesitance.
Hyun-Ju looks around, observing those around her, thoughts spiraling before a hand clasps down on her shoulder which causes her eyebrows to slightly furrow and turn to the person that held her and-
Oh my.
“..(Name)! What are you doing here?” Her eyebrows were raised in surprise, her lipstick covered lips forming a small ‘o’ shape.
“Your surgeries.. I wanted to help out, but I should be the one asking considering I haven’t been seeing you as often lately but all of a sudden you’re here.” You squint at her, head tikted as you held strong eye contact with her.
Hyun-Ju sighed, a hand coming up to caress your cheek as she spoke while the other landed on your waist, giving you a squeeze.
“My love, I’m doing this for my surgeries as well, and for us. That’s why I’ve been so distant.. I’m sorry. It’s no excuse though and I promise I will make it up to you.”
Damn. She had you wrapped around her finger superrrr tight..
You huff, leaning into her hand, lips pursed as you nod. “It’s okay.. kinda. I missed you a lot Hyun-Ju and I- I honestly thought you were maybe kinda.. getting tired of me.”
Your words come out mumbled, eyes flickering down as you mess with the hem of her zip up.
“I know it’s probably stupid-“
“No, no it’s not. I should have been honest with you. I truly didn’t mean to make you think that Sweetheart, I love you and I’ll never leave you again..”
She kisses your cheek and then your lips, a small smile on her face before she pulls away, her hand still remaining on your hip.
Sadly, the lovely reunion is cut short by the guards speaking about photos..
Didn’t know it was selfie time.
You and Hyun-Ju move, following the rest of the players while holding hands to stay together.
<><><><><><>
Photos had been taken already and it was time for the first game.
Hyun-Ju and you hadn’t let go of each other besides for picture taking, having took never leaving each other again very seriously.
Hand in hand you both moved through large doors into an arena filmed with.. sand?
“Sandbox..?” You mumble, Hyun-Ju humming as she thought.
“I don’t think so.. look at that big doll at the end of the room.” She points, your eyes following in that direction, landing on a tall and gigantic doll-like robot.
“Oh…. Ew.” That earns you a snort from your lover who kisses the top of your forehead with the shake of her head.
A sudden voice is heard through out the arena, explaining the game.
“Red light green light? Oh I’m good at this! It’ll be easy!” You smile, laughing.
Yeah uhm it wasn’t easy.
Numerous times you had tripped, not only hurting your hands and knees but landing in puddles of blood.
Blood from the others players around you.
Dead players might you add.
As of now you stood behind Hyun-Ju, hands shaky and throat tight from everything going on around you.
What the fuck was happening????
Your hand held the hem of Hyun-Ju’s shirt tightly, squeezing your eyes shut as the doll indicated to stop.
So close to the line.. just fifteen steps away.
So close yet so far from death.
You wanted to go home, see your family, see your friends, listen to music, eat something, lay in bed with the love of your life who was holding up with this way better than you were.
Eight steps away.
Then, you’re grabbed by the sleeve, pulled in front of someone as the robot says “green light!”.
Hyun-Ju’s shaky breath hits the nape of your neck, her hand tight on your arm as she hold you in front of her, moving you along.
“Red light!”
Four steps away.
It feels like eternity when the doll rings out “green light!” And your pushed past the line, your girlfriends body making contact with your own as she sughs in relief, her hold still tight but not in a painful way but instead in a way that shes praying this is the first and only round of this sick and twisted game.
You let a breath that you didn’t even know you had left in you, head turning to her with eyes full of tears, about ti say something until shes dashing right across the line and back into the peripheral of that stupid pig-tailed doll.
“HYUN-JU!”
It’s a pathetic cry, already knowing that when your girlfriend makes up her mind there’s no way of changing it.
You watch as she runs towards to males, one already injured and the other assisting.
Your heart beats in your chest as the seconds go down, frozen in your spot as all three freeze, Hyun-Ju and the other man that helps the injured man shake in fear.
Five seconds left.
You’re gonna be sick.
Please you can’t lose her you can’t you can’t you fucking can’t
They make it over the line though, falling on the floor and a sudden ‘BANG!’ Rings throughout the arena.
The injured man was taken out.
Is it bad that you felt relief that it wasn’t Hyun-Ju?
You don’t know and in the moment you don’t give a fuck as long as she’s alright.
You rush to her aid, arms wrapping around her tightly as your ears ring.
She’s okay.
You’re both okay.
You both WILL BE okay.
You’ll get out of here and go to Thailand and- and everything will be okay.
The end!
—————————————————————————
A/N: I finished this up during basketball practice LOL hope u guys like it!! PLS SEND IN MORE REQUESTS I ONLY GOT 2 RNN💔😒
#cho hyun ju x reader#cho hyun ju#cho hyunju#player 120#player 120 x reader#squid game x reader#faygosoda
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Veritaserum or Dare
A Hogwarts Legacy Fic
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow/MC; Sebastian Sallow/reader
Summary: You and a bunch of your friends are at Hogwarts during Christmas break. Garreth overhears you explaining the muggle game truth or dare and decides to “enhance” it like one of his potion experiments.
Hilarity and confessions ensue
“What afraid of the truth Gaunt,” Imelda taunted.
Ominis chuckled, “It’s not me, it’s the rest of you I fear for…but if it’s truth you guys want don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Before anyone could protest he had already downed the vial of veritaserum Imelda was holding out for him.
“Well now you will all see what I’ve had to deal with for 6 years,” Sebastian said smugly before he drank his vial. He grimaced, “Good luck to us all!”
The odd circle of friends gathered around the fire of the Slytherin common room look at one another with excitement and apprehension. It was Garreth who suggested Veritaserum or Dare after overhearing you explain truth or dare to Imelda, Natty, and Poppy. How he got everyone to agree - specifically Ominis and Amit - was a mystery to everyone. He was the one who suggested to play in the Slytherin common room as well to “be as far away” from his aunts meddling as possible.
“The only reason I agreed to this is because Sebastian is the one who brewed this,” you admitted.
Sebastian’s cheeks reddened at your compliment and in that moment he was thankful he was seated the closest to the fire. His voice portrayed his usual confidence as he teased, “Here that Weasley? I’m the trusted potionier here!”
“Yea, yea,” the redhead dismissed, “let’s get this started before the effects wear off…with how strong this is we’ve got what an hour or two tops?”
The game commenced and after a few rounds everyone was frustrated. Not one person had picked truth. As frustrating as that was at least the dares were amusing:
Amit had to use the disillusionment charm and retrieve one of Professor Garlick’s undergarments. When he came back red faced and explained she didn’t own any, the roars of laughter echoed throughout the dungeon.
Natty had to run around the faculty tower in her animagus form without getting caught. Watching a gazelle attempting to go up and down the spiral stairs was too much. She was almost caught because the group of you watching couldn’t stop laughing. Professor Onai stepped out of her room at one point and looked around to find nothing there.
“Hearing wild animals in the hallways,” she said as she looked down at her mug and whistled lowly, “I better slow down on the fire whiskey.”
As soon as she went back inside the lot of you hauled ass back to the Slytherin common room and only then did you start laughing again.
Natty swatted Amit hard on his shoulder, “Don’t you ever try to mount me like I’m some kind of horse when I’m in my animagus form ever again or I’ll shove your precious telescope so far up you-“
“I’M SORRY I PANCIKED,” Amit cried running away from Natty, “YOU KNOW I CAN’T RUN FAST!”
Poppy had to down a shot of fire whiskey that Gareth had pilfered and then try to steal Leander’s toad that he left behind while he went home for the holiday. After several run ins with walls and hiccuping pleas that she would be a better owner than Leander, she finally got him.
“I’m *hiccup* keeping him. What kind of soulless *hiccup* git *hiccup* leaves a creature behind,” she declared before she started crying. It took several minutes of soothing and petting the toad to calm her down. She still cuddled him now and randomly reassured him that he was safe now she would treat him better anyway.
Imelda had to “makeout” with a portrait - specifically Sir Cadogan - and she did so with gusto and way too little shame.
“You know as amusing as all these dares I’ve witnessed tonight are,” Ominis deadpanned at the group, “what’s the point of downing vertaserum if we aren’t planning on taking advantage of its effects!”
No one spoke up.
“Fine I’ll start: truth ask me anything,” he sighed in frustration.
“Umm do you have a crush on anyone,” Natty piped up, unsure what else to ask.
“How original,” he sighed but there was no real venom in his voice, “I suppose if I didn’t have a crush on my girlfriend she would be highly put out don’t you think?”
The group gasped. You giggled furiously. Sebastian whipped his head around to his best friend, “Girlfriend?! What girlfriend? And wait why is y/n laughing? Did you know he has a girlfriend?”
“Yes and it’s not my turn,” you laughed as you answered strategically
“Traitors! The both of you,” he exclaimed, “well who is it?!”
“Sorry, my turn is over and it’s my turn to ask,” Ominis stated simply. He smiled as he heard the uptick of Sebastian’s heart. It was too easy…might as well make him sweat a bit.
“I think I shall ask….Imelda, truth or dare?”
“Truth, bring it Gaunt, I have nothing to hide,” she said proudly.
“The other day I was taking a walk outside, right around Kogawa’s office and summoners court,” Ominis started.
Imelda’s face fell immediately and she looked like she was about to be sick.
“As I walked past the room where the quidditch supplies are kept I couldn’t help but hear your outcries of distress,” Ominis grinned as he emphasized outcries, “or was it distress? Or rather the true question: what were you doing in there?”
Everyone looked at her expectantly. She gripped her mouth until her knuckles were white. She felt like she was going to be sick if she didn’t answer soon. “Oh come now Imelda, I thought you had nothing to hide,” Ominis teased mercilessly.
The serum was burning through her forcing the truth out. In one breath she exclaimed, “I was getting myself off on my broom.”
There was a beat of silence before everyone lost it. “I told you I wasn’t the one who should be afraid,” Ominis said smugly.
“I knew how much you loved flying but I didn’t KNOW how much you LOVED flying,” Natty said in between giggles.
“How does one even do something like that with a broom,” Poppy asked innocently confused.
“Good question Poppy,” Gareth interjected, “I dare you to show us how!”
All the girls threw pillows at him shouting choruses of, “You’re disgusting!” and “How dare you?!”
Imelda sat a little straighter, “Too bad. My turns over and you know what Sallow you’ve been a bit too quiet.”
Sebastian’s eyes went wide, “So wait, I didn’t say anything like these guys - all I did was laugh - and you’re after me now?!”
“Afraid of the truth Sallow,” Imelda dared, knowing Sebastian never backs down from a challenge.
“Absolutely not, fire away,” he declared with forced casualness.
“Last year,” she started slowly.
You, Sebastian, and Ominis tensed slightly and stole glances at one another.
“There was a rumor that you took the fall for breaking into the restricted section for this one,” she nodded her head at you, “Why?”
You cut in laughing, “Everyone knows he likes having people owe him favors so -“
“I thought she was gorgeous and I wanted to both impress and protect her,” he admitted with a red face, not daring to look in your direction.
As a chorus of “ooos” and “I knew it”s rang out you reached for the fire whiskey so you could blame your deep red body blush on that instead of Sebastian’s admission.
“Hey that’s not butter beer,” Poppy whispered knowing you never touch fire whiskey.
“I know,” you whispered back right before you downed a huge gulp.
“Gareth,” Sebastian said briskly, determined to get the spotlight off him, “who’s name do you pant when you get off - anyone here?”
This is when Sebastian finally looks at you. He has a triumphant grin as he’s sure his point is about ready to be proven.
“Poppy,” Gareth said sheepishly.
Poppy immediately spit her butter beer out and it sprayed all over Amit.
“I’m sorry,” Gareth winced, “I didn’t mean for you to find out my feelings for you this way.”
He shot a glare at Sebastian at the same time you shouted, “HA! I told you he was never flirting with me that we’re just friends!”
Sebastian gaped open mouthed between Poppy (who had just taken another shot of fire whiskey herself) and Gareth.
“But…but I swear he was all over you and flirting all last year,” Sebastian doubled down.
“Yea I was,” Gareth explained as he scratched the back of his neck, “I thought if I flattered her she would be able to get me an in with Poppy. Y/n is the first person to gain any headway with her so….”
“Wait a minute,” Amit piped up, “why does it matter to you if he was flirting with her or not?”
Ominis chuckled, but said nothing.
“Yea and why is it so important that Sebastian know that he wasn’t y/n,” Natty asked knowingly.
“And those are the million Knut questions aren’t they,” Ominis said smugly as he raised his glass of butter beer and took a drink.
“Wh- wh- who’s turn is it now,” you asked in a high pitched voice.
“Everyone’s gone but you sweetheart,” Gareth said.
“Knock that off Weasley or I swear to Merlin I will curse you so badly your future generations will feel it,” Sebastian barked.
You could hear a pin drop as everyone turned to stare at him. Everyone, except for you, was holding in so much laughter it hurt.
“DARE,” you screamed to break the tension, “I will take any dare you throw at me right now!”
The heads that were turned on Sebastian all creepily turned towards you with that same “cat who got the cream” facial expression. You shuddered as you realized your mistake, and braced for what was to come.
“I DARE you,” Gareth declared with purpose, “to tell your crush that you like him.”
Sebastian held his breath. He was torn between loudly protesting and begging Merlin that it was him. All those feelings still when he saw a tear stream down your face - then all he felt was anger.
“Look what you did Weasley,” he said enraged as he pulled out his wand, “couldn’t give her a break? Or be more original?”
“It’s okay I’m just scared of rejection and I definitely didn’t want to say these words with an audience but if I don’t say it I’m going to explode,” you explained quietly as you put a hand on Sebastian’s arm to lower his wand.
He turned to face you and you looked up at him through your lashes.
“I love you Sebastian,” you said in a small voice, “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you in our common room, pacing in concentration nose deep in a book. When you called me a kindred spirit I thought for sure you could see I was a goner. I come with a lot of baggage and we’re so close as friends. I understand if this puts you off and you want space from me.”
Sebastian just stared open mouthed back at you. He did so a beat too long and you start walking to your dorm while furiously wiping at your face, “I’m off to bed. Happy Christmas guys!”
When you were completely out of the room everyone turned their eyes to Sebastian who was still frozen in place.
“SALLOW YOU ABSOLUTELY ARSE! I MAY FUCK MY BROOM ON OCCASION BUT THAT’S NOTHING COMPARED TO HOW BADLY YOU JUST FUCKED UP RIGHT NOW,” Imelda screeched and cringed at her own admission. Her anger for her friend overriding her embarrassment.
“Imelda is spot on Sebastian,” Ominis sighed in judgment as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Suddenly he stood up and announced, “Sebastian: you’re not allowed back in our room until after you’ve fixed this, you utter imbecile. Garreth, you don’t deserve Poppy, but she seems to be into you despite your revelations. Don’t. Muck. It. Up. She’s not a potion to be experimented with. Natty, Poppy - you two are lovely, never change. Amit: good luck not picturing Professor Garlick naked from now on. Imelda: you fuck your broom, enough said. Now goodnight!”
Everyone was silently holding their breath as he headed towards his room. Right before he walked out of eye sight he turned around and said, “Oh yes, and Sebastian? I’m courting Anne, because I am a man who can express his feelings and do something about them. I’m blind not dumb.”
After a few moments of silence Garreth shrugged and spoke up, “He did warn us about him joining in. He was not kidding.”
“I’m - regrettably - a Gaunt. We don’t kid,” Ominis shouted from the hallway, “and before you comment I’m blind not deaf and you have the shrillest voice I’ve ever heard from a man Garreth!”
“What are you still doing here,” Amit questioned the still frozen Sebastian.
“I think he’s still in shock,” Natty giggled.
“HEY SALLOW! HAVE YOU BEEN PETRIFICUS TOTALUSED?! NO? THEN GO FIX THIS NOW OR SO HELP ME I WILL HEX YOU MYSELF,” Poppy threatened.
That snapped Sebastian out of it and he turned to look at Poppy. When he saw the dangerous look in her eyes he scrambled tripping over his feet and took off for your dorm.
“That…was incredibly sexy,” Gareth said as he slid closer to Poppy, “I knew you had a little Gryffindor inside you….would you liked some more?”
He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as Imelda yelled at him and Poppy giggled.
“Buy me a butterbeer first and then we’ll talk,” she said flirtatiously.
Sebastian could barely hear the roar of his friends’ laughter over the rapid beating of his heart. He knocked on your door a couple times before coming in. You were sat on the side of your bed with your back to him.
“Go away Sebastian. I don’t want your pity,” you said tiredly, “I know I’m a lot to deal with so I’m not surprised and you don’t have to worry I won’t fawn all over you.”
Hearing your self deprecating side hurt him to his core and gave him the strength he needed. In a couple quick strides he made it over to face you. Then he said something you did not expect:
“I know you didn’t take the veritaserum,” he said softly.
“What are you talking about,” you said defensively.
He gave you a knowing look and you sighed, “How did you know?”
It was his turn to sigh as he sat next to you on your bed tilting his body to face you.
“Because I know you. You’re so caring and responsible I know that there is no way that you would ever risk accidentally letting out the…how shall I say…more confidential details about last years events. Which is something I didn’t even think about, no surprise there,” he reasoned before giving you that lopsided grin that made you weak in the knees, “and I might have definitely seen you put the full vial in your pocket when you thought no one was paying attention. And if there’s one thing I do thoroughly is pay attention to you.”
“Sebastian don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel bet - OH MERLIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING,” you exclaimed as he bent over you to root through your right pocket.
“See I pay attention,” he said with a grin before he downed the serum, “Just in case the first batch wore off…I need you to know I’m being completely honest.”
He waited a moment and then stood up to move in front of you. You couldn’t stop the billions of butterflies that fluttered around in your stomach as he crouched down and gently took your hands in his.
You’d never seen him look this serious - well other than his frustrated and angry seriousness from last year. This was different. This was softness and so very vulnerable.
“The day you came bursting in the great hall out of breath but still maintaining a confidence that showed us all you belong here…I just knew you were special. I was hoping desperately you’d be sorted in Slytherin. I chided myself for that. See I know everyone thinks I’m a big flirt but it’s not on purpose. I can’t help how naturally charming I am,” he visibly cringed after he said that last sentence.
You chuckled and gave him a deadpan look.
“Okay yea, maybe you’re right and I am a but arrogant, I heard it then,” he admitted and shook his head, “regardless, love and those kind of relationships just weren’t on my priority list. Anne and I went through so much. When I wasn’t at Hogwarts I was just trying to survive being around my Uncle and how he treated me. Then when I was here I had my sister and Ominis and my studies - and yes okay being generally popular has been fun. Yep heard it that time too - Merlin I didn’t know I thought so highly of myself!”
“Go on,” you encouraged through your soft laughter, “before the serum wears off and I don’t believe a word you’re saying.”
“I know you’re teasing but ouch. You’re right though. When you came over and spoke to me I called you a kindred spirit because I knew if I said soulmate I would’ve scared you away. It didn’t make sense to me I didn’t even know you but you felt like home almost immediately. Then you knocked me on my ass and I was done for, I had to do whatever I could to be close to you. I do pay attention. I look for you everywhere when we’re not together. I come up with any excuse I can to be near you. Then when everything went sideways you stayed by me even when I was nasty to you, when I cursed you, when I took more than I gave. I was horrible and I don’t deserve you. You. Beautiful. Incredible. Kind. Feisty. Witty. Intelligent. Wonderful you. I love you darling, I’ve been yours since I laid eyes on you.”
Tears spilled from your eyes as you lunged forward to capture his lips in a kiss. He responded in kind and as the kiss deepened you grabbed a hold of his shirt and pulled him up onto the bed with you. Neither of you broke the kiss during this, each of you needing the other more than air.
He caged you between his arms and the bed. Then just as suddenly as it started he pulled away looking confused and slightly upset.
Your mind started racing: did you go too far, did he change his mind now that you’ve kissed, were you a bad kisser?!
“Wait a minute,” he said slowly processing something as he looked towards your door, “Did Ominis say that he’s dating Anne - as in my twin sister Anne?!”
You burst out laughing underneath him, “You’re slow, but you get there!”
While he was distracted you used your legs to flip him over on his back so you were on top straddling him. You smirked as you took in his shocked and reddened face. Thank Merlin for all that galavanting in the highlands, you were a lot stronger than you looked
“Now that I’ve knocked you on your ass again, how about we put Ominis and Anne on hold and focus on you and me, huh,” you said lowly causing Sebastian to shiver.
He reached a hand out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear and whispered, “Merlin I love you!”
His face broke out in a devilish grin, “I could get used to this view you know.”
Normally you’d blush and turn into a puddle at his words. Not tonight, not now that you know he feels the same.
“Well then let’s experiment and see how many ‘views’ we can come up with,” you said suggestively.
Sebastian gulped but maintained his confidence when he spoke, “I am a sucker for research and experiments. And we do have a lot of time to make up for, don’t we darling?”
As you both got lost in one another you didn’t hear what was going on outside your door.
“Well I guess I’m not sleeping in my room tonight,” Imelda sighed, “I mean good on them - about time honestly. However I don’t even want to sleep in this house tonight, Sallow seems like a screamer to me.”
“You would know,” teased Poppy referring to Ominis hearing Imelda having fun with her broom
“That’s it you’re never touching firewhiskey again,” Imelda scolded as her cheeks heated up, “can I stay in your room Natty, since Poppy here is being a jerk.”
Natty put an arm around Imelda and smiled warmly at her.
“Of course you can, my friend…just uh…leave your broom behind please,” she joked and then bolted before Imelda could hex her.
“OH COME ON, YOU TOO,” Imelda shouted as she took off after her back to the common room where Garreth and Amit were still lounging.
“Do you think she gets splinters…you know….there,” a wide eyed Amit asked Garreth.
“Weasley. You. Are. DEAD,” Imelda yelled as she pulled out her wand.
“WHY ME,” he shrieked.
“Because this game was your damn idea to begin with now stay still you rotten bastard,” she ordered.
“POPPY SAVE ME! YOU’RE SCARY ENOUGH ON FIREWHISKEY TO TAKE HER! HELP!,” Garreth screeched as he ran.
In that moment you broke your kiss with Sebastian. You looked absolutely panicked as you whisper yelled, “Oh no Professor Weasley! I can hear her voice coming from the common room she sounds horrified! Merlin she’s going to kill us if she finds us like - Seb why are you laughing? Seb come on this is serious! She’s got that shrill upset tone she gets when she’s livid.”
“Just trust me, we’re safe. Now kiss me,” he promised.
“Screw it, you’re worth all the detentions!”
With that the two of you became lost in one another once more. It was a Happy Christmas indeed!
#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x reader#veritaserum#truth or dare#hogwarts legacy#slytherin!reader#mutual pining#love confessions#sassy ominis gaunt#amit thakkar#ominis gaunt#natsai onai#imelda reyes#poppy sweeting#gareth weasley#i wrote this instead of sleeping
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The Uncertain Melancholy of Our Youth
I’ve been sorting out how I feel about the end of Our Youth, and I’ve yet to arrive at something concrete that I want to say. I’ve been reading reactions from others to see if someone else could vocalize what I’m feeling, and in the process realized I wanted to talk about Our Dating Sim again.
Like many others, I’m left with a feeling of melancholy from this show. I feel a lot like @small-dark-and-delicious in that I think this ending felt very realistic for them, because Minase has never had friends he can count on, especially the “bespectacled demon” (@chicademartinica). I find myself empathizing a lot with @asiandramas-takeover about how bleak the future feels for them.
With this series overall, I’m a bit frustrated thematically. I was glad to have @wen-kexing-apologist offering insights about the manhwa while we were watching, because, like @worm-priest, I don’t think we did much with the different kinds of people theme.
However, I am left with some genuinely warm feelings for the characters and the actors. I loved mj’s post reflecting on how Hirukawa connects for people who dread becoming like their parents (@forcebook). Like @memiaatanonymous, I really enjoyed Motojima Junsei in this; I especially loved the way he managed his physicality and expressions when Minase had to flee Hirukawa’s house before the dad began beating Hirukawa again.
I also agree with @delasaria-blog that Minase in the special does a lot to close out this story; I don’t think I’d feel as positively as I do at the end of this without the effectiveness of the special episode. The implied growth of these two into a relatively stable couple (@incandescentflower) worked well for, especially because Minase was left with separation anxiety (@lurkingshan). I also really liked the way the show approached a closeted couple’s feelings about marriage as an inevitability (@jemmo).
I think it was @theside-b comparing this to the disappointment I know I felt at the end of Love is Better the Second Time Around that got me thinking about Our Dating Sim. In that show, we spend the majority of our time in the present with Shin Ki Tae pursuing Lee Wan again after Lee Wan abandoned him at the end of high school. Our journey with them is about how Lee Wan hurt Ki Tae and himself, and the consequences of Lee Wan's decision. We focus there on how Lee Wan has to grapple with the fact that Ki Tae was open to his feelings.
I think most of why I’m feeling a bit unfulfilled by this project is that I had hoped we’d spend more time in the present. The opening sequence had me waiting in anticipation for their eventual reunion and reconciliation. I had hoped we’d spend the bulk of the show on that, like in Our Dating Sim, rather than on the events leading to their separation. I think I set myself up for this because I brought too much of that to the table.
Reflecting on what the show did or didn’t do, I don’t think there was much for me to gain from seeing Hirukawa and Minase’s separate montages, though I think it would have been interesting to see Minase getting lonelier and see where he and Hirukawa lost touch over the phone incident. I personally feel like I’d have liked to see more of them getting back together and rebuilding trust, because I felt myself pulling away from this show as it spiraled over Hirukawa’s life getting worse in the middle. There was almost a really great moment of Minase trying to step forward and use his voice only to be silenced by the adults and friends in his life.
Final Verdict: 8, Recommended With Reservations. I’m not sure how I will feel about this show in the long term, and I want to thank everyone linked above for sharing their thoughts, and all the gifmakers included for their creations. There is a useful kind of melancholy here that I personally enjoy as a person who absolutely loved All of Us Strangers (2023) last year. I am always the type who, even though I know we’re seeing marked improvement in many categories, cannot erase the scars I carry from what I survived. I struggle to find a solid coherent thought I feel coming from this one, and I hope to read more compelling reflections in the weeks to come.
#Ben watches#Ben writes#our youth#miseinen#miseinen mijukuna oretachi wa bukiyo ni shinkochu#japanese bl#bl series
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In the Eyes of a Hunter
Pairings: Dean x Reader
Summary: Dean finally had a few days spare from hunting with his dad to come see you at college. Though you weren’t exclusive, seeing you with another man opens up a can of feelings Dean had so desperately been trying to keep closed, and a confession that could change everything.
Word count: 4.5k
Warnings: Angst, self doubt, Dean really needs to appreciate himself more 😩
AN: I know the gif is of Alec (Dark Angel) but, i couldn’t help but see a young Dean and this idea came to me 😅 It's a little more on the angsty side, but I promise the fluff is there. Also Happy New year! I know I've been away, not posting for a little while, but I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things. I hope you guys enjoy this one, let me know what you think?
Masterlist
2003
The crappy daytime shows weren’t cutting it, even in their static form from the ancient TV the motel provided.
You were supposed to have been here two hours ago. That was the plan. Your class finished at 2, and then you were free for the day. Free to see him.
After all, he had come all this way for you. What little time he could get away from hunting, he gave to you. He actively ignored the reason as to why he did, not wanting to admit the truth of it. Knowing it would cause more harm than it was worth.
But as he sat here, aimlessly staring at the fuzzy figures on the screen, time slowly ticking away, his mind restless and full of scenarios that only seemed to bother him the more they spiralled, he realised maybe the harm had already been done.
Deciding he’d waited long enough, he dropped the remote in his lap with a huff and took another look at the digital clock beside him.
4:15 pm.
He stood up from the bed and gathered his leather jacket and keys to the Impala his dad had officially given to him last month and headed out. Maybe you’d just gotten held up in class. He was no ‘Mr. College,’ but he understood there was a lot on your plate. At least from the last few times he’d come to see you. The stress had almost brought you to tears more than a few times, so he couldn’t understand Sammy’s desire to go. But hey ho, what did he know? He killed monsters for a living.
The rumble of the engine purred beneath him as he started the ignition. The sound echoed in the almost empty lot, bringing a proud smirk to his lips. He still couldn’t believe she was finally his.
This car had been one of the only other constants in Dean’s life, getting them from A to B, sometimes even calling her home for the night. He knew as soon as his dad handed him the keys and handed him the responsibility of looking after her, he’d do everything in his power to do just that.
As he drove toward your campus, the signs of autumn were heavily present with the flutters of orange and yellow leaves falling from the trees; his mind drifted to thoughts of you again.
He had met you a year ago, having rolled through town to deal with a simple salt and burn case. He was riding solo, his dad dealing with more dire matters, like a fresh trail on Yellow Eyes. Sam had left a few months prior to go make it as a hotshot lawyer in California, leaving Dean alone in the aftermath.
The fight between Sam and John had been ugly. Dean resorted to the middleman, as usual. He was proud of Sammy, more so that he was actually able to stand up to John, but he couldn’t help but feel the sting of abandonment. What did he have other than this job and his loyalty to finding the thing that took his mother?
After he wrapped up the case, he’d treated himself to a celebratory drink at one of the local bars, which happened to be a student hot spot, and that’s where he’d met you.
He had noticed you almost immediately. You were breathtaking, and he’d found himself glancing in your direction more often than not, watching as you’d laughed and drank with your friends. You were so carefree, beautiful, and way out of his league for many reasons. Those reasons only multiplying once he’d gotten to know you, and they still rang true to this day.
You’d caught him staring; eventually, he’d seen your eyes flicker in his direction a few times. Despite his own self-deprecations, Dean knew he was good-looking, knew the effect he had on women, and he was surprisingly good at playing the confident ‘bad boy.’.
He’d never really given much thought to anything other than a one-time thing. For one, it was easier that way. He never stayed in one place for longer than a couple of days, and secondly, his job wasn’t your normal 9 to 5, and having attachments was dangerous.
However, as soon as you’d made your way over to him, after what had looked like some encouragement from your friends, and introduced yourself with that faux drunk confidence, he was hooked.
At the time, you had just entered your senior year, and you had told him of your plans to take a gap year once you’d graduated. Like Dean, you felt a little lost in life, though for completely different reasons. Your major was something your father had insisted on, despite it not being what you had wanted to do. Apparently his plan was to have you work at his company, maybe even take over for him one day, but you hated all that corporate bullshit.
So Dean already could relate. A demanding father whose opinion was the one and only. Maybe he did understand why Sam had left more than he originally thought. Like right now, he had this mission, his dad’s mission, yet once that was over, what next? Did he just continue what he was doing? Living off of stolen credit cards, diner food, and cheap motel rooms?
The more he got to know you, your desires and dreams to travel the world, live, and experience life, he found himself picturing that, wanting that too. You had a way of making everything seem brighter and more hopeful, making him feel like there was more to life than just a ‘job.’.
He knows now why he kept coming back to you, why he still keeps coming back. Because for once in his life he felt seen, felt wanted, understood. And maybe it was time for him to tell you that. To tell you the truth. Consequences be damned.
However, it was all wishful thinking, and Dean’s search for you was cut short when he spotted you walking out of the student library, your beautiful smile and sounds of laughter filtering through his open window, and beside you, another man.
He felt his chest constrict, his stomach churn uncomfortably at the sight. His knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel tight. He rolled to a stop and watched as you continued to laugh at whatever this douchebag was saying to you.
He knew he had no right to be jealous. You weren’t exclusive. He was the one who’d made that clear, and surprisingly you had been okay with it. You didn’t know what he really did for a living, just that he had to travel a lot for ‘the family business.’.
Though, with his recent self-revelation that his feelings for you ran much deeper than something casual, this felt like a punch to the gut. Maybe this was a sign that this whole thing was a bad idea. Why getting close to someone was not on the cards for him. Of course you would’ve met someone else. How could you not? You were beautiful, smart, funny, and sweet. Why would you wait around for some drifter like him?
With his insecurities rearing their ugly head, threatening to swallow him whole, he failed to notice the two pairs of eyes on him. It wasn’t until there was a light rap at the window that he snapped out of his thoughts. He jumped a little and looked to where you were leaning down beside the partially opened glass, your expression surprised, but you were smiling nonetheless.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Came your innocent question, but it just seemed to rub him the wrong way, that and he noticed that guy lingering a few feet behind you, looking around awkwardly.
“It was getting late; I thought I’d come see if you were okay, but I can see you’re busy.” He spoke the last words with a little more venom as he nodded to the lingerer. And he hated the slight dip in your brow and the downturn of your lips.
“I was actually on my way to see you now.” You began, your voice light but weary. “I’m sorry I got held up. Alex just needed some help, and time got away from me.” Your explanation did nothing to calm his nerves. In fact, it made him feel worse. Like he didn’t matter. Again he had no right, but he was already spiralling.
“You know what? It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He shrugged you off. “I’m going to have to cut this trip short anyway. Dad called; gotta meet him a few states over.” The lie came easily, but the knife in his heart twisted with each word. You frowned at him, he saw it in his peripheral, but he refused to meet your eyes. He couldn’t.
“Alex, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He heard you say before you walked around the car and abruptly slipped into the passenger side.
“What are you doing?” His question came out more snappish than he intended. You folded your arms and sat back in your seat, looking much like a stubborn child.
“We’re going to talk.” You shrugged as if that were obvious. “We can either do that here or back at the motel; your choice.” You levelled him with an unwavering stare, one that crushed his resolve and had him grumpily starting the engine and driving back to the motel.
You walked past Dean as he opened the door for you, your eyes widening a fraction at the state of the room. It had certainly seen better days; the wallpaper was faded and peeling from the walls, and the carpet had a questionable amount of stains on it. From what? You didn’t hope to find out. He usually stayed in much nicer rooms, but seeing as it was close to the holidays, this was probably all he was going to get.
You plopped down on the squeaky mattress and looked at him. He was avoiding your eyes, shifting awkwardly in his spot. You’d never seen him this worked up. You liked to think you knew Dean rather well, at least him as a person. He still kept some things to himself, like the details of the job he did with his dad. Sometimes he came to you looking so haunted, but those times weren’t spent with much talking.
You were beyond curious; Dean was a mystery you were still trying to unravel. However, you knew your standpoint: that you weren’t his girlfriend and never would be. He’d made it clear from the beginning that he didn’t want to make a commitment, yet he kept coming back for you. You didn’t push him as to why he did, in fear he would stop altogether.
If you were honest with yourself, you had fallen in love with him months ago. Yes, your situation was complicated, and he never stuck around longer than a couple of days. But Dean was special; he wasn’t like the guys you knew at college or in your life in general. He was wise beyond his years, thoughtful, funny, and smart, despite how much he called his younger brother the “brains of the family.” And he was also one of the most handsome men you’d ever laid eyes on.
“What was that back there?” You decide to just rip the Band-Aid off. You had a pretty good idea, but you wanted to hear it from him. He finally looked to you then, his posture straightening, his arms folding across his chest as if in a defensive stance.
“I told you, I was just checking to see if you were okay.” He spoke as if he didn’t really care for the conversation, but his jaw was ticking, and his brow remained furrowed. “I have to leave, so can we make this quick?”
It was your turn to frown then. Admittedly, his words stung; you hadn’t even had the chance to see him yet, and now he wanted to leave all of a sudden.
“Is this because of Alex?”
“What? No!” His response was quick and higher in pitch, and it only confirmed your assumptions. He was jealous.
“You know he’s only a friend, right?” You offer, biting back your smile.
“And? Why would I care who you’re friends with?” He grumbled and looked down at one of the stains on the carpet beneath his boot, fixating on it as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.
“It just seems like you do it all.” You shrugged nonchalantly, though your voice tinged with something akin to a teasing tone. His eyes flickered back up to yours, darker than you were expecting.
“You think I care who you hang around with? Who do you date? I don’t own you. If you want to meet guys and have boyfriends, then go ahead; I’m not stopping you.” His voice rose an octave with each word, his body trembling slightly as he unleashed kept feelings out into the open.
“It’s not like everyone I’ve ever cared about or loved sticks around. I mean, why would they? I’m a freak, a loser.” He reveals, his eyes widening slightly at his unmeant confession. You sit in stunned silence, not expecting that outburst from him.
“So if we’re done here, I have to leave.” He quickly adds, embarrassed and angry at himself for saying those things. Things he’d wanted to keep buried and never allow to see the light of day. He hastily begins collecting his things; there's not much, but there’s enough to give you time to snap out of your stupor.
“Hey.” You grab onto his arm with enough force to stop him from picking up his duffle. He obliges you, but you know you have to select what you say next carefully; otherwise, you’re uncertain as to if you’d ever see him again.
“I don’t know where all that came from, but I don’t think you’re a freak or a loser.” You frown sympathetically at him. It hurt you to hear him speak so lowly of himself.
“Dean, I think the world of you.” You admit it, and his eyes flicker to yours, uncertainty shining in those pools of green. “I know our situation isn’t ideal or even normal, but in this last year of knowing you, I think you’re amazing.”
“You do?” The question slips out involuntarily, but your responding smile is warm and calms his nerves a little.
“Dean, you’re the best person I know, the only person I want to see. I haven’t said anything because I know you didn’t want a commitment, but dammit, I love you. I am in love with you.”
Your last word is cut off by the sudden press of his lips. Your surprise squeak quickly turns into a grateful sigh. And you wrap your arms around his shoulders and neck as he hugs you closer to him.
He breaks away after a few minutes, your breaths mingling in the small gap between where his forehead rests against yours.
“I’m sorry.” It’s not what you were expecting him to say, but you allow him the time to speak. “I overreacted, and I had no right to.”
You cup his smooth cheek, which he leans into, and offer him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay.” You swipe a thumb across his cheekbone, and he takes comfort in your touch.
“I just. I have something I need to tell you. Something I’ve kept from you, been keeping from you.” He sighs, his face tormented and sad as he pulls away. It’s worrying you, but you try to internalise it for his sake. He takes your hand and guides you to the bed until you’re both sitting side by side.
“Dean, you can tell me anything. You know that, right?” You tell him honestly. He seems to be battling in his own mind, his internal struggle present in his rigid form and fidgeting hands.
He huffs out a humourless laugh and rubs a hand down his face before looking at you. Really looking, and you sit quietly, but strong, showing him you’re there and are willing to listen.
“There’s a reason I never told you what I did for a living.” He begins. “For one thing, I didn’t even think we’d even get this far, and there was no point to put that on you.” He shakes his head, his heartbeat in his ears, his stomach in knots.
“And secondly, it’s dangerous. My job is dangerous, and I’d never want anything to happen to you.” He looks at you pleadingly, and you nod, despite the swarm of questions flooding your mind.
Meanwhile, Dean blows out a nervous breath; he can’t believe he’s going to tell you the truth. Something he’d been the most adamant about not doing. Though he is in too deep, he knows that now, and you had a right to know, a right to run for the hills about what he was going to confess. He’d even agree with you when you called him crazy and walk out that door and never bother you again if that’s what you wanted. Selfishly, he hopes that isn’t the case, but you had a right to choose.
“I’m a hunter.” He begins, and it hangs heavy in the air for two different reasons. For you, you’re a little confused, not understanding the dire build-up and Dean because he was unveiling his and his family’s biggest kept secret.
“To clarify, I don’t hunt deer, elk, or critters in the woods.” He explains, but the alarming look on your face at the only other possibility to you has him panicking. “Not humans either.” He adds with a nervous chuckle, and you visibly relax.
“I hunt monsters.” He reveals, and you stare at him dumbly for a moment.
“Monsters?” You repeat, and Dean nods in confirmation. “As in the bogeyman?”
“Sometimes, yeah.” Dean shrugs as if that was a casual thing to admit. You blink at him, as if you’re trying to process his words, but they don’t quite fit together in your mind. Monsters?
Your heart is pounding now, your mind racing, but all that comes out of your mouth is a shaky laugh, laced with disbelief. “Monsters?” You repeat, your voice thin and tight, like you’re testing the word on your tongue to see if it makes sense.
Dean’s face falls, and for the first time you see him as vulnerable as he’s ever been. There’s something desperate in his eyes, a plea for understanding that only seems to make the pit in your stomach widen.
“Yeah,” he says softly, nodding, but his voice cracks with the weight of the truth he’s just unleashed. “I hunt things that go bump in the night. Demons, ghosts, things like that. Creatures that don’t belong in this world.”
The room feels suddenly smaller. The air thicker. You look at him, your head spinning, and you can feel your pulse quicken as panic starts to creep in. A part of you wants to laugh it off, because this is crazy. There’s no way this could be true, right? Dean isn’t telling you the truth. It has to be some messed-up way for him to push you away.
A cold, sinking feeling settles deep in your chest. “Are you... are you serious?” Your voice comes out shaky, a whisper of disbelief hanging in the air. “Is this some kind of joke? You’re telling me... You hunt monsters?”
His expression tightens, lips pressed into a thin line, as if your question just added a fresh layer of weight to what he’s already carrying. “I’m not joking. I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. Since one of those bastards took my mom." The room grows silent, both of you respectively reeling from his admission.
You had always figured Dean’s mom wasn’t in the picture for the pure fact he’d only ever spoken of his dad or younger brother. For what reason you never knew; however, the truth of it was more devastating than you could comprehend.
When he looks at you again, there’s a pain in his expression that you don’t think you’ve ever seen before, and it’s then you decide this isn’t some elaborate story to make a break-up easier on him or to spook you just for the fun of it. This was very real, and this man had been living it.
“This life… it’s dangerous. The people I meet, the things I fight, they’ll come after anyone I care about. I never wanted to put you in that position.” Dean says, his voice breaking. “I wanted to keep you safe; you deserve so much more than this, than me. You deserve the truth.”
You stand there, trying to breathe, trying to make sense of the words he’s spoken, but it’s like your entire world has been turned upside down. Dean is telling you about this huge part of his life that he’d kept from you, and you can’t tell if you should be running for the door or if you should stay and try to understand him, to understand this.
“But why? Why did you even let me in?” You ask, your voice catching on the last word. The question haunts you, and you need to understand the answer, even though a part of you is scared of hearing it.
Dean’s eyes soften, and for a moment, you see the man behind the mask, the man who is so full of fear, so full of love, and so completely torn apart. “Because I love you,” he says simply, his voice soft but resolute. “I love you, and I never wanted to hurt you. But I don’t know how to make you understand what I do. How dangerous it is. How it’s too late for me to just stop, even if I wanted to. It’s all I’ve known.”
You’re frozen in place, the weight of his words hitting you harder than anything else. He loves you. It’s the last thing you expected to hear, the last thing you thought you’d ever get from Dean, especially now. But somehow, despite the chaos of it all, you feel your heart calm, just a little. Because the truth is, you really do love him. Despite everything.
You close your eyes for a moment, your mind racing with the enormity of what he’s just confessed. You want to scream, you want to run away and pretend none of this ever happened, but you can’t. You’re not that person. You can’t walk away from him, not now, not after everything you’ve felt for him.
You take a deep breath, forcing the words out, even as they feel foreign and strange in your mouth. “I... I don’t understand this. I don’t get it. But I do get you, Dean. I know who you are, even if I don’t know everything about your life.” You pause, letting the silence hang between you, both of you drowning in the weight of the moment.
And then, almost in defiance of the terror bubbling up inside you, you take a step forward. “I’m scared, Dean. I don’t know what this means for us. But I don’t want to lose you.”
Dean’s eyes flicker, relief and gratitude flooding his face. Slowly, carefully, he reaches out and takes your hand in his. “You won’t lose me,” he promises, his voice barely above a whisper, but the conviction in it is enough to make your heart steady, even if just for a second.
You reach up and press your lips to his, the simple action bringing you the sense of comfort and relief you both needed after such a heavy moment. Dean responds in kind, his hands firm and strong as he holds you close, his kiss soft yet purposeful, charged with an unspoken understanding of what kind of life you were agreeing to embark on.
There’s so much left unsaid, so much you’re both struggling to understand. But for now, in this small, broken room filled with the weight of the truth, you both know one thing: neither of you is ready to let go just yet.
As you both part, Dean exhales a long, tired breath. His grip on your hips tightens slightly, and in that simple gesture, you can feel the conflict in him, the rawness of everything he's kept buried for so long. And yet, as much as he's terrified of the future, of what this could mean for both of you, there's something almost peaceful in his presence now, as if admitting the truth has, for just a moment, allowed him to let go of the weight he’s been carrying.
“I don’t want to drag you into my mess,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next. But I want you to know, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Whatever it costs.”
You look at him, really look at him, seeing all the layers that lie underneath the bravado, the smirks, and the jokes. The broken man who’s been carrying this burden alone for too long. Your heart aches for him, for everything he's had to endure. And as much as the idea of what he does terrifies you, as much as the danger and uncertainty swirl around the edges of your thoughts, there’s still a part of you that feels steady.
You take a deep breath, your thumb gently rubbing the back of his hand. “I’m scared too, Dean. But I won’t walk away from you. Not because of this. But you’re right, we need to figure out what this means. All of it.”
His gaze softens, the hardness in his face fading just a little. “You don’t have to be a part of this. You don’t have to be involved.”
You shake your head, smiling gently. “I don’t know what the future holds, Dean. But if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that I don’t want to face it without you. Not if you’ll let me.”
The silence stretches between you, but it’s not suffocating anymore. It’s not filled with uncertainty or confusion. It’s a quiet understanding, the kind you only get after sharing something raw and unfiltered. He studies you for a long time, his expression softening, before he finally nods. There’s something fragile in that nod, something unspoken that passes between you.
“I didn’t think you’d say that,” he admits, his voice almost a whisper, like he’s afraid saying it out loud might shatter something delicate. “But I’m glad you did.”
You cup his face softly in both of your hands, a simple gesture that means everything right now. “We’ll figure it out,” you say softly. “Together.”
Dean lets out a breath, like he’s been holding it for a lifetime, and for a moment, the tension in his shoulders loosens. The truth may have ripped through the air, but it’s not the end. It’s only the beginning.
AN: Hi all, I'm baaaack lol. This purely came out of the gif above and took on a mind of it's own 😅 what originally started as a jealousy fic turned into a; show some young Dean love fic 😂 I guess this can be perceived as a more positive outcome of him confessing his true life to someone he loves. I hope you guys enjoy ☺️
#supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x female!reader#spn fanfic#spn#spn fandom#spnfamily#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x reader#mentions of John winchester#Mentions of Sam Winchester#young dean#angst#fluff#spn imagine#supernatural fanfiction#abbalina writes
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Disconnected Desires: The Struggle of Intimacy with ADHD
Intimacy is often painted as this magical, deeply connecting experience, but for someone with ADHD, it can feel anything but simple. One of the hardest things to explain is the constant battle between wanting to be present and the brain’s refusal to cooperate. It’s not that I don’t care or don’t want the connection—it’s that my mind seems determined to pull me away at the worst moments.
The Mental Struggle
Imagine this: you’re in a tender, intimate moment with your partner, and instead of melting into it, your brain starts throwing distractions at you like darts. Did I leave the stove on? Is that laundry still sitting in the washer? What am I even supposed to feel right now? It’s not just frustrating—it’s heartbreaking.
Sometimes, I can’t even pinpoint what pulls me out of the moment. It’s like my brain builds a wall between me and the connection I desperately want to feel. And the more I try to fight it, the stronger the disconnect becomes.
The Emotional Disconnect
The detachment isn’t just mental—it’s emotional, too. There are moments where I feel like I’m floating just outside my body, watching myself go through the motions. It’s not because I don’t love my partner or find them attractive. In fact, I feel the opposite—I want to connect so badly, but it’s like my emotions are on a delay.
Then there’s the shame. It’s so easy to spiral into guilt, wondering if my partner thinks I’m not invested or if they’re somehow to blame. That internal dialogue is a constant companion during these moments, which only makes it harder to pull myself back.
Sensory Overload
On top of everything else, there’s the issue of sensory overload. A light touch that should feel gentle might suddenly make my skin crawl. Background noises that should be easy to ignore become overwhelming. The heat of a hand on my body might feel suffocating instead of comforting.
It’s like my senses are on high alert, ready to pick apart every sensation until I can’t focus on anything but the discomfort. And once that happens, the intimacy is gone.
The Isolation of It All
What makes this struggle even harder is how isolating it feels. Intimacy is supposed to bring people closer, but ADHD often makes me feel like I’m on an island, completely disconnected from my partner.
It’s difficult to explain to someone who doesn’t experience it. How do you tell the person you love that you’re struggling to stay present when they’re being so vulnerable and open with you? How do you admit that, in the middle of such a tender moment, your brain is doing anything but cooperating?
When the Struggles Win
There are times when the struggle is too much, and I just want to give up. It’s exhausting to feel like I’m fighting my own mind every time I try to connect. And even though I know my partner is patient and understanding, it doesn’t stop the guilt from creeping in.
It’s not easy to talk about these struggles, and even harder to live with them. Intimacy should feel like a safe haven, but for someone with ADHD, it often feels like a battlefield.
For those reading this who share these struggles: you’re not alone. And for the partners trying to understand, know that it’s not about you—it’s about how ADHD shapes the way we experience the world, even in the most vulnerable moments.
#blog#sex positive#lgbqt community#adhd#adhd problems#mental health#mental heath awareness#sexualwellness#writer
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I’ve got you i promise . •S.reid
Fem!BAUreader ! Spencer Reid
In which you suffer from an panic attack and is having a bad day in all she wants is Spencer Reid …
Paring : Fem!BAUreader ! Spencer Reid
Content : fluff comfort angst
Content warning : reader suffers from panic attack in Spencer comforts her in just had my first panic attack I’m ok tho Dr said I’ll be okay I never had that happen before it was little scary for me
Word count : 935
Author notes to sum this up if I was reading this instead of writing this making me the reader in not the writer just to let you know I’m only 4’9 that’s how tall I am and Spencer would have to really bind down to reach to give me a hug how sad is that - okay but that was random sorry.
You sat at your desk, palms sweating and your heart racing in a tempo that felt out of sync with the world around you. The report in front of you had become an unrecognizable blur, each word slipping through your fingers like sand. Anxiety had a way of sneaking in when you least expected it, and today felt particularly suffocating. Thoughts raced through your mind like a roller coaster ride, twisting and turning with no means of escape.
With every shallow breath, it felt as if a vice gripped your chest, squeezing tighter and tighter, leaving you struggling to find the air your body craved. You rubbed your temples, trying to quell the rising tide of panic as the chaos made it almost impossible to concentrate.
Just then, you heard a soft voice approach. "Hey, you okay?" JJ's concerned tone pulled you away from your spiraling thoughts. She stood nearby, her brow furrowed as she surveyed you.
You shifted in your seat, automatically replying, "I’m fine, JJ," though the tremor in your voice gave you away.
"Are you sure? You don’t look so good," she pressed gently, concern etched across her face.
You wanted to brush it off, to reassure her and yourself, but another wave of panic crashed over you, and you felt yourself drawn toward the one person who always managed to ground you. "Wait, JJ!" you called out, your voice cracking slightly. She paused and turned around, instantly understanding something was off.
"What is it?"
"I... I think I just need Spencer," you admitted, vulnerability leaking through the cracks of your composure.
A gentle smile crossed JJ’s face as she nodded. “Alright. I’ll go get him.” With that, she left, and you were left to battle with your swirling thoughts alone. Moments passed like hours, the panic gripping your chest tighter with each heartbeat. You looked around the office, the familiar scents of coffee and worn-out files doing little to calm the storm inside you.
Just as you felt on the verge of being completely overwhelmed, the door creaked open. Spencer stepped inside, concern immediately evident in the way his brow knitted together as he took in your disheveled state.
Spencer observed the room and gazed back at you for leaning his perfect eyes on you , he noticed the panic in your eyes ,
“Hey JJ said you needed me ? , “you okay he asked ?
I don’t know you say, “I… I don’t know what’s happening,” you confessed, voice barely a whisper. “Everything feels so much right now, and I can’t…”
Before you could finish, he was standing by your side, meeting your gaze, his eyes warm with understanding.
“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe with me.” He demonstrated, his breath slow and measured, and you tried to follow suit, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly.
As you worked together to calm your racing heart,
He asked you if you knew the % of adults that have panic attacks? 
“Umm No you say softly looking up at him .
It’s about 19% of adults who have them you learn something new everyday with me huh , you both chuckle there’s that laugh I love so much he says .
“You nodded, absorbing the information. “And how many of them… only wanted you, Spence?” you asked softly, the vulnerability in your tone reaching out for him.
His eyes widened slightly at your question, and he paused before responding,
“Umm, “That’s hard to say, but I think you’d be surprised at how many people seek comfort in what feels familiar and safe.”
“I think I just wanted you,” you admitted, I feel safe with you Spence in I just needed you as the words came out tears rolled down your face , I don’t think you understand how much I needed you Spence .
Spencer’s expression softened further, and whipped your tears away , he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured, his warmth anchoring you amidst the chaos in your mind. “Just focus on that. I’ve got you , I promise I’m not leaving you .
The panic eased slightly, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you could start to breathe again .
Divider by @fairytopea
Tags
@hoe4hotchner
@catssluvr
@lover-of-books-and-tea
Ps. I fold to this
#criminal minds#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid comfort#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fics#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid fanfiction#my wriitng#my fic writing#hoe 4 hotchner#i’m ok i promise#had my first panic attack
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MOONLIGHT (an obx!au)
mini series pt 1 pt 2 pt 3
fisherman!rafe cameron x mermaid!reader
cw: slight ooc!rafe, mild language, somewhat innocent!reader due to not being raised on land, not edited!
Rafe stood confused, looking around for any sign of ‘Lucy’. “I’m just tried” he said under his breath with a nod of his head. He walked towards the bait shop, stepping inside his father met him. “Finally! I need you to stock up, tomorrow’s the first you know how people are” his dad ordered. Rafe only nodded taking whatever box his dad was handing him.
“Hey Dad?” Rafe spoke after awhile, placing the final fish hooks onto the shelf. “What?” His dad looked at him. “Do you anyone with a daughter named Lucy who just moved here?” His dad thought for a second, shaking his head. “No, why?” Rafe shrugged. “Just curious”
Days passed, Rafe hadn’t noticed any moving trucks around the neighborhood, and she didn’t look like a pouge, there was something fishy about her and he was going to figure it out.
Y/n has swam back home as fast as she could that night, frightened. Her father could never find out. She decided to stay away from land for a while.
A couple of days passed and she was dying to get back out, missing the way her feet felt in the sand. She waited for the moon to return, her stashed clothes were gone, losing them when she transformed. seeing no one out, She stepped out and walked around the beach hoping to find a discarded towel to cover her naked form.
That’s when he saw her. His eyes widening. “Hey!” He called out, walking quickly off the boardwalk. Y/n jumped back startled. She took a step back as he practically ran towards her. He took his jacket off wrapping it around her. “Where are your clothes?!” She froze unsure why he sounded worried. “Um..”before she could think of something, he continued. “Were you skinny dipping or something?! It’s too cold for that” he shook his head as he zipped his jacket up making sure she was covered completely. “What’s skinny dipping?” She asked confused. He looked at her funny, his eyebrows raised. “When you go swimming… naked?”
“Oh, right… yeah, I forgot what it was called” she lied, her cheeks turning red, he hummed. “Did you lose your clothes or something?” She nodded, it wasn’t a lie.
“Okay… well, my house isn’t that far from here, and you and my sister look around the same size” he eyed her. Before she could decline he continued. “I won’t take no for an answer” he looked down at her his blue eyes meeting hers.
When she stepped into his house she froze, it was huge, she had never been inside a humans home before, and it felt weird. She squinted her eyes, the white walls bright. “My rooms upstairs” he said guiding her up the spiral stairs. He sat her down on his bed once they reached his room.
“I’ll be back” he spoke softly as he looked at her. Y/n looked around his room, fishing poles hung all around his room, fishing trophies, and photos of him holding fishes he caught hung up. “Hey” rafe walked back in, a pair of shorts and a shirt in hand. “Try these” she took them, unzipping the jacket and letting it fall, rafe’s eyes widened, sneaking a peek before deciding to turn around.
She slid the shorts on, then the shirt. “Thank you” she spoke softly, he turned back around nodding. “No problem, I’ll drive you home” he offered, she shook her head. “No— it’s okay… I can walk” he raised his eyebrows. “No way, I insist” she handed him his jacket back. “It’s okay, I don’t—”
“Please just let me take you home” he pleaded. “okay” he grinned, leading her out of his room.
“This house?” He looked at her confused, she nodded. “I didn’t realize the thortons moved” his gazed moved from her face to the house. Y/n went to open the door but Rafe stopped her, locking all the doors. “what’s your name?” His voice turned cold. Y/n swallowed, “Lucy” he scoffed. “Stop with the lies, what’s your name?” She inched back. “Y/n” he nodded. “Why’d you lie?” He tilted his head.
“Okay, Either you tell me or I’ll take you to the cops myself” he sneered, turning his truck off and turning to face her. “Okay, I lied— I’m not from here”
“Yeah, I got that much” he laughed dryly. “Where are you from?” she looked around, struggling to come up with a lie. “Out of town” her cheeks flushed as she avoided his eyes, “right, okay… are you staying with someone?” she shook her head. “Did you run away or something— how old are you? Are running from someone?—” he bombarded her with questions. “I’m taking you back home” he decided, quickly turning his truck on and doing a turnaround.
She sat frozen, his hand gripping the steering wheel. “I’m twenty” she looked at him her hands toying with the hem of her shirt. “Are you running from someone?” He looked at her as he parked his truck in the driveway. “No” she shook her head, he nodded unbuckling his seat belt. “where are you staying? A hotel?” She nodded, she didn’t know what a hotel was but he didn’t have to know. “You’re staying the night, I don’t care, it’s dark and it looks like it might rain” he opened his car door, getting off. She didn’t know this guy, and if she didn’t get home by the time the sun came up her father would ban her from ever leaving the water. She was so screwed.
AN: I’m really trying here 😭😭 I hope it’s not terrible I’ll try to make the next chapter longer, but I wrote this at work. 😕
Border credit: @aquazero
#Spotify#x reader#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#obx fic#jj mayback x reader#sarah cameron#sqfewrd#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron au#john b routledge#pope heyward#kiara carrera
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One Eternal Sigh a/n: hi guys! after the results of the poll i posted, i got right to work and then my life kinda fell apart so i deeply apologize for how late this is. ik a lot of you wanted this to be ambessa x reader and dw i am planning something with goddess!ambessa but i had to honor the results of the poll for this fic. i hope everyone enjoys this!!
word count: 2.7k
warning(s): y/n might break critical archeology rules but as i am not an archeologist and this is fiction...🤷🏻♀️ - goddess!sevika - possessive!sevika - i know nothing of LoL lore so I have created mythology - sevika is a munch this isn't news - porn with a little plot except the plot disappears - virgin!reader, well not at the end lol - oral (r!recieving) - wall sex - mention of overstimulation - improper use of metal arm (fingering, r!recieving) - im not ashamed of what this became but if you see me at church keep it to yourself - im too dramatic, the 🌶️ (sadly) isn't that long
After years of only finding shards of ancient technology and digging in places that were less than fruitful in findings, you finally discovered something groundbreaking. You had been told by colleagues over the course of your career in archeaology to give up any hopes of finding evidence of the lost kingdom of Zaun, your own Atlantis in terms of it's ambiguity and discussion over whether or not it was real. But now, now you could finally prove you weren't just chasing ghosts.
"Incredible." You whispered under your breath as you were lowered deeper into the tomb. The intricate carvings that decorated the walls seemed to glow an inticing purple, the paint still vibrant even after all these years burried by history. Finally, your feet touched the ground, making you the first person in thousands of years to enter this tomb. But as you walked around, detachting yourself from the harness, the light from your flashlight revealed something incredible. You followed the tunnels, large enough for a person to walk through carefully, eyes wide as you took in the pillars and the paintings on the walls. A figure stole your glance, one made of metal, it's cracks glowing a strange mixture of purple and pink. As if in a trance, you walked towards it, your eyes reading the inscription below.
Sevika, protector and loyal servant of Zaun.
Your hands traced the cracks of the figurine, examining the depiction of the goddess. You couldn't believe you were actually standing here, holding a piece of history. Sevika was one of the Zaunite Pantheon that you had dedicated years of study to, trying to find evidence of her followers and dedicating countless nights into reading about the goddess with a seemingly mechanical arm. You knew she was granted eternal life and goddesshood after she selflessly defended one of the brothers who had started the great kingdom of Zaun, Silco. A conflict that took away her arm but granted her a way to further defend the land she held so much loyalty for. You held the figurine close to your chest as you further wandered around what you now understood to be a temple, a place of worship dedicated to Sevika. This was so much greater than a measley tomb. But of course, even dreams come to an end.
"Miss Y/N? Is everything okay down there?"
The voice of your sponsor broke through the comfortable silence of the temple, carried down through a megaphone through the tunnels. You jumped, dropping the figurine. It shattered onto the floor, sending a tremble through the temple as a purple smoke emitted from the now broken idol.
"No, no, no!" You practically screamed as the walls and entrance to the room you stood crumbled around you, the dust mixing with the strange smoke the broken idol was emitting. You ran towards the now covered exit, hands clawing against the stones, desperate to find a loose rock to somehow help your escape. Your mind ignored the smoke and the hissing sound that accompanied it as you spiraled into a silent panic, leaning your forehead against the rough stones as your breath came out in short gasps. You just had to prove people wrong, a voice that sounded suspiciously like your mother rang in your mind, taunting you about your life decisions.
"Who are you?" A rough voice rang out, accompained by a large metal arm slamming into the rock beside your head, trapping you even more as you jumped once again, a scream escaping your lips as you spun around. What, no who, you saw made your stomach drop. Standing in front of you, arms trapping you against a rocky barrier, was the goddess Sevika, her hair loose and framing her face, silver eyes boring into you, illuminated by purple scars on her face. She leaned closer, having to bend down to meet your eyes, her height causing her to tower over you. Her metal arm moved closer to your face, the mechanics sending an almost unbareable heat searing across your skin.
"I said, who are you?" She growled out, her voice echoing throughout the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. You swallowed, your mouth and throat dry from fear and the dust clouding the air.
"I'm Y/N," you finally were able to respond, pressing yourself against the closed entrance as Sevika got closer to you, the whirring of her arm reminding you this wasn't a dream, "I'm a researcher- an archeologist."
The name of your profession sent recognition sparking through Sevika's eyes. She cocked her head to the side in confusion, something you would've found adorable except she was an actual goddess radiating power and you were desperate to not insult her.
"Archeaologists study the dead. Why are you here?" While her tone was softer than before, she never left her position keeping you against the makeshift wall. You felt a flare of annoyance shoot through you at the generalization of your job but you held back your defiant response, not wanting to end up an enemy of the Protector. You carefully constructed your response, your words shaky as they left your lips.
"I study Zaun," you watched as realization filled Sevika's expression and you spoke hurriedly, "It's been thousands of years since you-"
Sevika cut you off, stumbling backwards slightly, her arms leaving the wall and craddling her head as she spoke.
"Zaun fell? I failed to protect-"
"No!" You interupted, causing the goddess to look at you incredulously. You laughed nervously as you wrung your hands, fiddling with your rings as you started to ramble.
"You didn't fail to do anything, all empires fall - no matter how great they are! Normally an empire falls after 250 years but Zaun lasted way longer than that, academics estimate that it didn't fall in violence, just that the power shifted and it merged into other kingdoms which also have fallen until today when people don't even agree on whether or not Zaun even existed, which now it's obvious it did and-" you felt a warm hand cover your mouth as Sevika shook her head humorously.
"You talk too much. Centuries and centuries of silence and you seem to be making up for it. I thank you for your explanation, although I request time to mourn my people."
She turned around, walking to the other side of the room, towards a beautifully painted mural of Sevika along with other gods of the pantheon, Vander, Silco, Violet, Jinx, and Ekko, surrounded by the people of Zaun. You stayed in place, standing awkwardly. After a few minutes Sevika turned back around, flinching slightly when she noticed you were still there. You answered her confused expression, smiling way too wide as if it would hide your panic.
"This," you gestured to the wall of stone behind you, "was the only entrance and exit to your temple. I guess you could count me as an offering." You joked lightly, wrapping your arms around yourself as you felt shock settle in about your current situation. As panic once again started swirling in your mind, you didn't see the shift of Sevika's expression, her eyes darkening and a smirk painting her lips as she stalked slowly closer to you. You gasped at the feeling of one of her metal fingers hooking under your chin, forcing you to look up at her. Heat exploded throughout your body as you took in her expression.
"An offering, huh? I haven't had one of you in a long time." She trailed her metal hand down your throat to trace your collar bone as she slowly pulled you away from the stone wall so she could circle around you, her metal hand tracing along your shoulders and back, sending shiver after shiver down your spine.
"Tell me again, it's been so long, what I'm the goddess of?" Her voice was teasing and low, worsening the dampness growing between your legs. You answered, your voice shaking.
"You're a protector of Zaun, the goddess of loyalty and protection, often associated with strength and the bond between blood of the covenant," She hummed, urging you to continue, even though you were sure you had covered her main titles, the only other one you could think of was- oh.
"You're also the goddess of plea-pleasure," your words broke apart as Sevika's wandering hand went lower, "often extending your protection to sex workers and encouraging your priestesses to...explore with one another."
Sevika huffed out a small laugh at your academically charged answer, silently thinking about how she could get you to ramble out words that made no sense and weren't copied from books. She once agains stood in front of you, both of her hands cradling your waist as she pulled you incredible close to her, leaning down so that she could whisper in your ear.
"As a researcher, I'm sure you've explored many places, but has anyone ever explored you?" Her question stole the breath from your lungs as you just stared at her, eyes wide as her flesh hand untucked your shirt from your pants, placing her warm palm against your skin. You silently shook your head, watching as Sevika's eyes almost glowed at your answer, her hands tightening possessively on your waist. You felt her smirk against your neck as she spoke.
"Well, as my offering, I can fix that." She leaned back enough so that her eyes could ask a silent question, one that you were very quick to answer. You barely had finished nodding before Sevika's lips were on yours, dominating and possessive as she bit down on your bottom lip, using your surprised gasp as a way to deepen the kiss, her tongue winning over yours. Your head was foggy with how intense the embrace was, you struggled to keep up with Sevika's pace. Her metal arm ripped off your shirt, using her lips to swallow your protest, and her human hand unbuttoned your pants, pushing them down before growing impatient and eventually ripping them off. You managed to pull away from the magnetic kiss, much to the dismay of Sevika.
"I needed those clothes!"
Sevika's eyes grew even darker, her hands tightening on you once again as she picked you up, reveling in your little yelp as you instinctively wrapped your legs around her as she moved to the other side of the room, towards a smooth wall. You felt her press you against the wall, a dark laugh leaving her lips.
"For what? You're mine now, remember?"
You flushed at the implication, opening your mouth to retort but Sevika used the moment to push you up higher against the wall, using her hands to place your thighs on her shoulders, her nose brushing against your most sensitive spot, making your legs tremble, something she wanted to feel again. She pressed a kiss against your clothed cunt, licking the growing wet spot lightly, enjoying your reactions.
"And you definitely don't need these." She spoke against your pussy before using her teeth to rip off your panties. You only had a minute to register her actions before her tongue was parting your folds, her hands holding onto your thighs so tightly you swore you would be bruised. Your moans were music to Sevika's ears, loving how she finally wasn't surrounded by silence. Her tongue was equally soft and rough, a combination that drove you crazy as your hands clawed at her forearms. You felt her tongue swipe up your whole pussy before her mouth, warm and wet, captured your clit, sucking as her tongue rubbed the underside of your sensitive numb. You felt like you were floating as she burried herself deeper into you, her tongue flattening against your clit as her metal arm shifted so most of your weight was on her human arm. Your brow furrowed in confusion before you felt cool metal pressing against your folds, seperating them, intensifying the pleasure her mouth was giving you. She leaned backwards, a trail of spit connecting your pussy to her lips as she licked them, watching your expression as one of her metal fingers pressed against your entrance, entering slowly.
"You're so sweet, baby, I think I'll stay down here forever."
You barely had time to respond before Sevika's finger was fully in you, pressing against your soft walls, rubbing something that sent you scrambling up the wall, Sevika's hand on your waist gripping you tightly as she licked around her finger, tracing her tongue up to your clit as she laved at it, another metal finger stretching you, your moans now growing hoarse as you felt something coil in your stomach, threatening to snap. Between her cold metal fingers thrusting into you, pressing against that intensely pleasureable spot within you and her mouth covering the rest of your pussy, suctioning slightly as her tongue licked your clit as if she was savoring desert, you felt your thighs start to shake more, your hands now burrying themselves in Sevika's hair.
"I'm gonna-" You couldn't finish your sentence, Sevika's fingers going faster as her teeth scrapped against your clit.
"Come." She growled out, before pressing her fingers up against your g-spot and rubbing, sucking your clit between her lips.
Who were you to defy your goddess?
Your orgasm was just as intense as Sevika's minstrations, which didn't end even as you came. You remember looking down and seeing Sevika's look up at you, tongue out as it flicked against you. Then you blacked out, having flashes of Sevika laying you gently against the floor, her human hand brushing your hair, which was plastered against your forehead with sweat, out of your eyes.
When you blinked awake, you were in a hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machines. A nurse rushed in, followed by your sponsor who looking frantic, his chest falling in relief when he saw you were awake. You were confused, looking around as the nurse checked your vitals and your sponsor frantically explained what happened.
"After I called down, the unexpected noise caused the structure of the tomb to crumble, leaving you trapped. When we finally got a team called in to clear the way, we found you on the ground next to a statue of a Zaunite goddess, blood on your forehead where a piece of the wall had knocked you out," he ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head guiltily. You felt shame fill your body, you had made the discovery of a lifetime and when you were knocked out - you had a wet dream of an important goddess, the very goddess you had spent years studying, "When we got you out, we didn't know where to go, the service on our phones went out and our vehicles wouldn't start. Oh it was a nightmare Y/N but thankfully a local was able to give a ride to this hospital, I've never been more grateful for someone going on a grocery run. She's still here, been waiting with me for you to wake up, she's said she wants to make sure you're okay."
After he finished speaking, you merely nodded, unable to speak as you internally berated yourself, allowing your sponsor to go get the person who had practically saved you. You were looking down at your hands, imagining them burried in Sevika's hair - it had felt so real, when a familiar presence filled the room. Your head shot up, your eyes focused on who was standing next to your sponsor, who left with the nurse, mentioning something about getting you something to eat.
"Wha- How?" You questioned, your eyes following Sevika, who was dressed in mortal clothing, her shirt straining against her muscles and her hair pulled back into a small ponytail, as she came to stand next to your bed. She leaned against the railing of the hospital bed, using the button on the side to gently lift up your bed so you were sitting up.
"I told you, you're mine now. You wouldn't survive forever in the tomb and by breaking my figurine, you broke the ties binding me to that place. I'm bound to you now, Y/N."
Her hand gently held yours, bringing your hand up so she could press a gentle kiss against your knuckles.
"I'm yours. Forever."
a/n: i feel like that sucked, did it suck? actually don't tell me let me be oblivious. thank you for reading!!! im going to hide under a rock now
#sevika#sevika x reader#goddess!sevika#goddess!sevika x fem!reader#goddess!sevika x reader#archaeologist!reader#sevika x female reader#sevika x y/n#sevika x you
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lm a bit nervous asking this but it’s okay ^u^
I was wondering how your ocs would react to their darlings hurting themselves sorry if this is too weird for you!! I absolutely love your writing btw!!
𝐏𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲
LoveSick!Characters reaction to reader doing self-harm
Warnings; obviously self-harm, possessive behavior, crappy writing, me rambling, yandere characters, little suggestive on LoveSick!Friends part whoops! I wrote reader with a fem!person in mind sorry ╥﹏╥ You’re totally fine! I don’t mind these asks whatsoever, thank you for requesting, love! Just a small thing though, and this isn't necessarily directed toward you, but if you're ever, ever having thoughts of self-harm, there's no shame in seeking help! Take it from a gal who went through it herself! You are loved! Always remember that, babes ♡
....
𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲
He’s not mad, just disappointed, which is arguably worse. LoveSick!Athlete could never ever be mad at you. You’re the love of his life! The center of his universe, and all he ever thinks about, so how could he be mad at you? It’s just that… He hates, loathes even, the fact that you didn’t trust him enough to come to him! He’s your boyfriend, your future husband (not that you know that, yet), for God’s sake!
Anyways… It’s likely you didn’t tell him, and he found out by accident, seeing new and old scars when your hoodie lifts up, or when you guys go to the beach (something along those lines). The first thing he does is pull you into a hug, pressing your face against his chest, just so you don’t see the intense gleam in his eyes. There are so many things that are spiraling in his mind, so many thoughts, and so many feelings that he can’t exactly pin them down.
He doesn’t know what to do with himself, and he doesn’t exactly know what he’s feeling, but he knows he doesn’t like it. The idea of you ever, ever, harming yourself never came to mind. He never even thought that’s something you’d ever end up doing! He thought that everything was fine and dandy, that you were enjoying the relationship, that you loved him, but apparently not.
LoveSick!Athlete scolds himself for not seeing the signs, for seeing how you seemed to take longer in the restroom, or how you covered more, even when it was oh-so warm outside. How did he not see the signs? How could he fail you?
After a moment or two, he pulls you away from his chest, staring at you with an uncanny look, as if he’s trying to pry into your very being. He needs to know why! Why are you doing this to yourself? Is it because of him? Don’t say it’s because of him (it is), or else he think he might start spiraling. Of course, you make up some half-assed excuse, attempting not to place any blame on him, and so, the next thought in his mind is that it’s someone else. After that thought flickers in his mind, let’s just say that you’re not going to be going out with your friends for long while.
He’s convinced that he cannot leave you alone, that he needs to be there for you at all times. He cannot let these outside influences spoil your beautiful mind! He has to protect you, and he will. Don’t worry, baby. He understands that you’re going through a hard time, but he’s here now! And he’ll take care of you, just let him do everything.
𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝗿𝘁𝗶𝘀𝘁
Okay, now he’s mad, very mad, extremely mad even. LoveSick!Artist is very emotionally constipated, very quick to anger, and violent with his tendencies. He hates what you’re doing to yourself, and it makes him mad at himself, you, and just the world! What did he do wrong? Why are you harming your beautiful body?
You’re his muse, his inspiration, and he hates that it’s being tainted by your own hands! Immediately, his mind goes to who else has caused this because there’s no way that you, the sweet angel he’s made you up to be, could ever do this to themselves. Someone, some evil, nasty person, has pushed you to this, and he’s going to find them and make them wish they were never born. He’s already conjured many different scenarios in his mind, but not a single world slips from his mouth, which just makes the situation all the worse for you. It’s awkward. On the inside, he’s scathing, thinking of so many things to say, to do, but on the outside, he’s just staring at you with fiery eyes.
You can tell he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, and that makes you nervous. Like LoveSick!Athlete, LoveSick!Artist likely found out by accident or something of the sort, probably when he was painting you. At the time, he didn’t find it odd that you were more hesitant, refusing even, to strip off your clothing, to change into the skimpy dress he wanted you to wear, scraping it up to be you just nervous. He found that cute, and let you be, what he thought, was your flustered self. What he didn’t realize is that you were hiding something from him of all people, which just made the reveal all the worse.
Even though he’s unreasonably pissed, he’ll try to calm himself down for your sake, knowing that it freaks you out whenever he gets amped up. This means that he’ll grab your arm or push you onto some surface to take a look at your leg, this all depends on where you’ve marked up, and he’ll huff as he looks over the old and new scars. His eyes are fiery, flammed with an intense heat that makes you nervous, too scared to do anything. LoveSick!Artist will wait until his mind is, somewhat, cleared, standing up to grab your cheeks, pulling you into a oddly, and uncharacteristically, soft kiss, and wrapping his arms around you.
You can feel him shake as he hides his face against your neck. You’re so stupid, he’ll mutter, suddenly you feel your skin get slightly wet, God, don’t pull this shit again. Next time just… just be fucking normal and talk to me, you dumbass. You guys will stand there for a moment before he storms off, slamming the front door, not knowing what to do with himself.
𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗕𝗶𝗺𝗯𝗼
Okay… She’s a little insensitive when it comes to this topic. Actually, it’s more like a culture shock, in a weird way? I’m not too sure on how to describe it, but it’s in the sense that it’s impossible for her to think that you would hate yourself. To her, you’re absolutely stunning! You’re her hot girlfriend; how could you ever think of yourself like that? It’s something she doesn’t understand, and so she kinda goes into shock when hearing about it.
She’s very quick to comfort, tackling you into a big hug, tucking her face into your chest as she cries, and cries, and cries, and cries. She cannot believe this is happening! Why would you ever do this?
A situation where you should be the one comforted has turned into you holding her, trying to explain yourself as she straddles your waist, staring down at you with puffy eyes. Her lips are puckered as she cups your cheeks. With the tilt of her head, LoveSick!Bimbo will begin to list off every. single. thing. she loves about you.
Her hands will start on your cheeks, blubbering out how she loves how full they are because it fills out your face, and then she’ll graze your eyelid, bringing her thumb up to your brow. Oh, how she wishes she had your brows! They’re so, so natural! But she has to get hers done, and God, your eyes. They’re super duper pretty! They’re one of her favorite things about you, can’t you see that? Why would you ever hate such a pretty face, when it’s all so cohesive, all so matching? She’ll go on and on, touching every part of your body as she names something positive, not caring as you try to push her off. LoveSick!Bimbo will hold you down, even using her fluffy, pink handcuffs if she has to! She has to prove to you that you’re an absolute beaut!
Once she’s done with that, she’ll bring you into a big hug, lying next to you as you, somehow, managed to end in her bed. LoveSick!Bimbo will force your face into her chest as she pats your head, urging you to go to bed, baby! I think you’re suppperrr sleep-deprived from finals, and that’s why you’re thinking so silly! Curling up to you, she’ll sniffle a little, huffing under her breath that she can’t believe you’d ever do such things… Maybe we can get our nails done! Manicures always make me feel better!
𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗙𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱
Baby, she already knew what you were doing the moment you put a blade to your skin. LoveSick!Friend has adopted the knack for reading you like a book as she’s been around for quite a while and has watched you like a hawk. You think she doesn’t know when you’re falling into fits of depression? Please, baby girl, she clocked it when you started avoiding your guys’s girl's nights.
Immediately, she took to action, subtly trying to pinpoint exactly why you were doing this to yourself and finding a solution to said problem. Of course, it wasn’t easy as she didn’t want to make her intentions known as she was a little worried that you’d recede into yourself if you knew. She wanted to find out organically, get you talking to her, and then comfort you.
After all, she is your best friend, and you are hers, so why would you not spill your heart out to her? She’s always been there for you, comforting you whenever your shitty ex dumped you, or when you had a fight with your parents, or even when your other friends conveniently stopped calling (which may or may not have been her doing, but I digress).
Really, because she understands you, and is quite the manipulator, she got you spilling to her in days. All it took was soft touches and sappy eyes, and you folded, not that she didn’t want you to. She wants to be the gal you come to. She wants you to come talk to her instead of tearing through your skin. Baby, you don’t need a therapist when you have her! She’ll hold you through the night, rocking you to sleep as she whispers comfort into your ear. She’s the perfect one for you, don’t you understand?
And don’t question it when her lips travel from your temple to your scarred wrist, and then your scarred thighs. Maybe she can make you feel better? Babydoll, she’ll make you understand how beautiful you are, just you wait. Just lay back, relax, and listen to her. This is what friends are for, right?
𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗞𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁
And… What’s that going to do, love? Now, he’s just confused, a little annoyed, but mostly confused. Why would you, the Empire’s Beaut, ever harm yourself? I’m not too sure if this is accurate, but I don’t think self-harm was too common back in the day. From what I know, the only recorded self-harm was self-whippings as a form of penance in the Church, or condoned by the Church at least (someone correct me if I’m wrong, but this is what I’ve found from surface-level googling lol).
Based on this, the idea of you taking a blade to your skin is insane to LoveSick!Knight. He didn’t understand why you’d ever do such things as you live in the finest conditions he can provide! You’re served the finest meals in the nation and are treated with the uttermost care. To him, those are the only things one could ever ask for, so this is one bitch of a situation you’ve put him in. It’s frankly annoying to him, but he loves you so he’ll sit you down and speak with you.
Scooping you up in his arms, he places you on his lap as he combs your hair back, looking at you with an unamused expression as he gently holds your arm/thigh (whatever you choose to harm). With the click of his tongue, he’ll pinch your cheek and scold you, asking you if you understand what you’ve just done, darling? You’ve gone and scarred your beautiful skin. So now, what shall we do, hmm? Want me to go and patch you up, yes?
Of course, you’ll just nod your head with teary eyes, having no idea how to respond to his softened demeanor. Honestly, you were expecting far harsher treatment, seeing as LoveSick!Knight has done far worse to you before, so this was much preferred for you. The two of you will sit in silence as he bandages you up, and surprisingly, he’ll mark each scar with a kiss, looking up at you with loyalty. In sickness and in health, he swore to you that he’d always be by your side, even when you’re making silly decisions like this. In the past, he may have harmed you in such ways, but he refuses to see you do such to yourself. Even with his hardened exterior and violent tendencies, you are still his wife, and he your husband, so he’s stuck with you until he dies, whether you like it or not.
𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗣𝗼𝗲𝘁
Oh… Yeah, you thought he was scared of you before? Now, he’s avoiding you like the plague, absolutely terrified that he’s the one that caused you to harm yourself. LoveSick!Poet barely talks to you, and when he does, it comes out in stutters and flushed cheeks. He’s not the best when it comes to talking to girls, so he gets nervous, but you’ve always been so kind to him. However, the moment you open up to him about your self-harming, whether is present or past, he kind of freezes, not knowing what to do. Does he comfort you? Well, duh! But how do you comfort a girl? Does he hug you? No! You guys aren’t that close yet… A handshake? No, that’s awkward…
God! He doesn’t know what to do! And because of that, he disappears for a while, and you fall into your own pit of self-loathing, wondering if you overshared. I mean, he is just your neighbor, a weird one, but one that you see every morning, and one who leaves you little notes. You know that LoveSick!Poet is a sweet guy, and now you’re scared you ruined all that because you’ve told him something personal…
But all that ends when you find a little gift basket at your front door. Inside, there’s a letter, one that looks made out of very fine, very expensive-looking paper, and was written in fancy handwriting. You never knew his handwriting was so pretty. It was in purple ink, and there was a photo of the two of you, albeit a little awkward, attached to it. You forgot the exact occasion, but you think it was a neighborhood potluck? You’re not sure…
In the letter, LoveSick!Poet wrote a beautiful poem (obviously) about you, aimed toward your appearance, but also your personality. It had tiny details that you didn’t even notice of yourself! You were a little confused about how he even knew that, but you brushed it off as you felt your heart thump a little faster. It was very sweet, very genuine. And it was accompanied by a small bouquet of flowers, cheap(ish) perfume, and some chocolates.
Although you would’ve really liked it if he’d said all these things to your face, as it would’ve saved you a week or two of anxious suffering, it was still sweet to know that he cared, even if it was in his own, weird way. Catching a small note on the bottom, you couldn’t help but feel warm, giggling at the note that wrote to please look at the bottom of the basket. I got you something I think you’d love ♡
And at the bottom, folded neatly was a portrait of you, smiling softly as you seemed to be looking somewhere else. There were pretty, lilacs framing the photo, and you looked otherworldly, if you don’t say so yourself. You have to admit, it was definitely an ego boost, knowing that this is how LoveSick!Poet saw you. But who knew he could draw?
#tw self harm#self harm#obsessive love#lovesick#x reader#yandere x reader#yandere x you#bad writing#yandere oc#yandere oc x you#yandere male#𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡'𝙨 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙥𝙤𝙚𝙩#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙗𝙞𝙢𝙗𝙤#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨#love yourself!#love your body because that's all you got ♡
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Prompt: Vi and gentleness, healing from prison trauma
[give vi seven million hugs!!!!!!!]
//
vi jolts awake next to you; it wakes you up, her panicked breathing coming way too fast.
'hey,' you say, trying your best to be comforting. she's told you some of what her life in prison was like, but she was seventeen — a child — when she went in, and you know that, whatever she's told you, the reality was so, so much worse. 'vi, it's okay.'
she's still panicked, though, pulling at her hair and curled in on herself, her muscles straining hard, sweat soaking down her bare back, shiny against tattoos and scars spread all over her skin. this is the first of her nightmares you'd woken up to; you know she's had them before, because you've woken in the middle of the night to a cold bed and found her on the couch, dark circles under her eyes with some animal documentary playing on mute, scared to fall back asleep.
vi, in the light, is so strong, with her broad shoulders and the serious set of her brow, the way she cares and cares and cares. vi, in the moonlight silvering through the window, in the dark, is small, and terrified.
she flinches away from your touch, still stuck in a different world. you turn on your bedside lamp and try one of the grounding exercises that you use for yourself when you start to spiral. she's reluctant but it's always easier to come back to reality when all you have to do is name four things you can see, or two things you can smell, rather than make sense of the whole present world at once, and so she tries.
her breathing slows and eventually, she deflates enough that she stops looking like she's going to punch through a wall at any given moment. 'sorry,' she croaks as you hand her a glass of water.
you roll your eyes: of course her first impulse would be to apologize after a real honest-to-god panic attack.
'violet,' you say, just that, and she softens even more. 'can i touch you?'
she nods, and your light touch on her shoulder turns into an engulfing hug, her arms wrapping around you tight while she rests her head in the crook of your neck, just trying to steady her breath further. you figured out early on that vi loved physical touch, from everyone she cared about, and it wasn't a mystery as to why. still, to hear her mumble, 'no one touched me gently for five years,' makes you want to cry.
you can cry later, though, because she needs you right now to be strong. 'do you want to talk more about it?'
she sighs. 'can we just... stay like this? just for now?'
you run your hand through her hair, gently brush it back from her face, and kiss the scar through her brow: from a guard's baton, her third night there, you'll learn one day. 'we can stay like this all night, vi,' you promise.
//
vi flops down onto the mat when you get to the climbing gym, closing her eyes and taking a big breath, then letting it out slowly. she had been quiet in the car, but she'd smiled when you put on an old album she loved. you have a standing climbing date every other thursday afternoon, after she has therapy, and usually it only takes her a few minutes to fully come back to you: eventually, she's laughing and smiling like normal, leading the hardest overhangs in the gym with a powerful ease, joking that your knot is dressed to the eights while you do a safety check, kissing your cheek delightedly while you groan.
today, though, she stays quiet and serious. she's still encouraging and respectful, as she always, without fail, is, but she favors her left shoulder — her bad one, which you continue to gently pester her to get looked at — and still climbs the most intense dihedral chimney, holding her arm to her chest when you lower her.
'at least ice that, please,' you ask — a little desperate, a little out of your depth with this heavy and stubborn a mood — when you finish up and head back to your apartment to shower and order food. you debate texting jinx, but you had promised her that vi would be at your place tonight; apparently she and ekko had planned to have a small party and you didn't want to interrupt. vi is your girlfriend, and you can handle it. you want her in your life as long as she'll have you, and so you need to be able to handle it.
vi just grunts and leans her head against the window, flexing her left wrist a few times. you tell her to shower first, and she just nods, doesn't even try to give you any lines to convince you to shower with her. she comes out of the bathroom in boxers and wool hiking socks and one of your soft fleece quarter zips, her favorite on days where the past lingers a little too much. she pulls you in for a gentle kiss — an apology, a thank you — before you head to the bathroom, and when you finish and sit next to where she's curled up on the couch, your hair wrapped in a towel and dressed in your favorite knit palazzo pants and a bra, your glasses on, she sighs.
'hard day in therapy?'
'i — this is the anniversary of the day i went to prison,' she says, quiet, staring off into the corner at nothing. she won't meet your eyes, but of course you don't make her. 'i should've told you.'
'violet.' she accepts your upturned, outstretched palm. 'the only thing i need from you tonight is to stop apologizing. you, today, in this moment, have done absolutely nothing wrong.'
'huh. i'm sor—'
your glare stops her, and you exchange small, amused smiles.
'i'm still getting used to... this, i guess.'
it's been nearly a year, but you don't take offense.
'i talked about you in therapy today,' she continues. 'like, not bad, obviously, just that it's so hard to tell you about, like, the way my—' her voice breaks and she swallows once — 'my parents died, or, how hard it was to try to take care of powd—jinx, or... you know, i was just a kid.'
she's desperately fighting back tears; you scoot closer to her and lift her chin with your finger, gently, to meet your eyes. 'you were a child. none of that should have happened to you.'
she frowns, but a few tears fall freely, and she, thankfully, doesn't try to stop them. 'a lot of it was my fault.'
you shrug. 'maybe you did some stupid things. but so did i, and certainly so did jayce, and all that happened to us was a scolding. i know you know this, but it wasn't fair, or just, or right, what you had to live through because you were a dumb kid, or because you had only impossible choices to make.'
'i swear, you and my therapist are in cahoots.' her voice wobbles but she relaxes, just slightly.
'i have an idea,' you say. you know she doesn't have work tomorrow, and jinx is with ekko all night, and you can take the day off if you need. 'put some pants on.'
//
you lay out the warm blanket you'd brought on the sand; it's freezing, but the spiked hot chocolate you'd put in your to-go mugs is still hot, and vi is like a furnace when you lean into her side. you'd bought this small house on the lake a few months ago, had been waiting until it was finished to surprise vi on vacation. but this was more important: her eyes had gotten big when you'd driven up the long, winding driveway, and she'd reverently said, 'no fucking way, cupcake,' when you'd explained that, really, you hoped it could belong, in all the important ways, to the both of you. an hour and a half drive from the city; the wildflowers and one of her favorite climbing spots only twenty minutes away: a respite, from it all.
'i've never seen this many stars,' she says, awe and grief in the frost of her breath.
you don't say that you've been in more remote places than this together; you just look out over the lake where they reflect back, blinking and shimmering. 'i know your brain and body don't always believe you, and that's okay,' you tell her, 'but you're free, vi.'
she sniffles, and then she nods, and then she laughs. 'my therapist isn't going to believe this.'
you end up laughing too, and you lie back with her on the blanket in the cold, and you teach her constellations. when you look out over the water, the horizon line lost between cosmos and earth, you realize it's the same as your love for her too: endless.
//
'i'm not hungry.'
you roll your eyes. 'you didn't eat lunch.'
'well, i haven't done anything today.' she fusses with the sling her left arm is snugly nestled in; she hurt her shoulder again on a call last night, and it was so bad this time she couldn't hide it from her captain. she's finally agreed to see a specialist next week, if only to stop you from nagging, or so she insisted.
'vi.'
'cait, just, stop.' it's harsh, harsher than she ever really is, and she sighs. 'please.'
you offer your hand quietly and she takes it with her good one. you fight every impulse you have to nag at her, or to offer a million different things for dinner. 'okay.'
she deflates in obvious relief, and you quietly make your way through a few episodes of a show that night until you both wearily head up to your bed. your house is beautiful, and you love sharing a home with her; you turn down the comforter and she tries to get comfortable with her sling, dutifully, still on. her stomach grumbles, and you know she must be starving, but you don't say anything. sometimes she still needs to process in her own time; sometimes her body is still convinced it's just on this edge of surviving.
you let her pretend to be asleep.
in the morning she picks at her breakfast, an egg and cheese with bacon on a roll from the bodgea down the street, her regular favorite. vi is still sweet — she always is, affectionate and bright and devoted and funny — but her smile is only half-hearted and she neatly wraps her sandwich up after she's only finished with half and then places it in the fridge.
you bite your tongue again, because she takes ibuprofen without any reminder and gets her computer set up at the kitchen island; she's doing some work from home, records and order forms, so that she can still help but doesn't actually need to go in today if she was just going to be stuck at a desk anyway.
eventually, you're getting ready to go meet jinx and ekko to have dinner and watch a wnba game at your favorite sports bar; you had spent the day working from home too in your office, occasionally checking on vi but mostly leaving her to her own devices. it's hard, sometimes, not to smother her, but she's her own grown up person, and you know from loving her that whatever's bothering her will, eventually, work its way out.
it does, when you walk into her closet after a light knock on the door and see her in her boxers, sling off, frowning at a pair of jeans with tears in her eyes. they're old, ones she's had the entire time you've known her, a light wash that sits loose and low on her hips, one of the knees tearing over the years. she tries to wipe her cheeks immediately when you walk in, but only ends up wincing and grabbing at her left arm in inescapable pain she can't hide quick enough. instead of asking what's wrong, though, you stay quiet and sit neatly on the little leather bench, pick up the discarded jeans from the floor and fold them neatly.
'they don't — they don't fit anymore,' she says. 'at least, not like they used to.'
it's not hard for you to understand, and it's another layer of grief for her: when you first met vi, she was all muscle, as lean and cut as anyone you'd ever seen. you'd gathered that she grew up with a combination of not having enough food, especially while she was incarcerated, and then being much more worried about jinx eating than herself. you think she enjoys food, and she'll happily cook with you, but left to her own devices, still lives off of protein shakes.
it's hard, to know how to navigate ghosts nestled in her ribs, in her hips, in the tender, torn and frayed ligaments of her shoulder. she sits down next to you. 'well, these were on their way out anyway,' you decide on, hoping a little levity will help her sort through her feelings.
'i — am i still hot?'
it's a question that surprises you, and it surprises her too, based on the look of horror that crosses her face and the way she brings her good hand up to cover her mouth immediately. you try so hard, but you can't fully fight the laugh that bubbles out of you, and vi shoves you weakly with a whine but she starts, after a few seconds, laughing too.
'darling,' you say, relieved to see a real smile on her face, even if she's turned red in embarrassment, 'you're so hot. so unbelievably sexy.' you run your hand through her hair. 'even with this less-than-ideal mullet monstrosity you've chosen at the moment.'
she rolls her eyes. 'it's in right now.'
you shake your head, but it's all so fond, all so warm. you trace the strong line of her thigh, make a little swirl with your finger in the hair along her knee. 'these are so sexy.' you lean over to kiss her good shoulder, its broad expanse, and then tap along her bicep, not as lean as it used to be, but still defined and so, so strong. 'these too.' you touch her cheeks, slightly fuller, and kiss the freckles on her nose, which makes her smile. 'you know i love these.' and there's a layer of fat now, over what used to be the most intimidatingly shredded abs you'd ever seen; there's a line of defined muscle down vi's stomach still, but not the same as the eight pack that used to sit prominently. 'this might be my favorite part, though,' you tell her, and lay your hand there, run your thumb along the soft trail of hair that runs from below her boxers to her belly button.
'there's... there's no way.'
there's a million quips you could make, and you sense that this is going to take more therapy, more tough choices, more bad days, to really sort through. vi has always needed to be the strongest and fastest and fittest in the room; it's the way she survived, the way she made it out of what is truly a hell still alive. so instead, you just answer honestly: 'you're healthy.'
it seems to occur to her, all at once, that maybe that's true: she climbs better than she ever has, and she still sets new records at the fire department for strength and conditioning not infrequently; she's been sleeping through the night more often, and, during the good patches of time that stretch further and further without interruption, she tries all kinds of different foods with you, more adventurous than you'll ever be, and enjoys telling you her favorite parts. not for nothing, either, but she drinks enough actual water, not just protein shakes and a sip from a water fountain at the gym at the end of every session.
'i — i'm not used to it.'
she doesn't sound nearly as upset as before, mostly confused and a little curious. you play your knuckles against her ribs lightly, still pressing into her skin when she breathes, but not fully visible like before. 'this? or eating enough food without thinking about it?'
she laces her fingers with yours. 'i guess, both? i wasn't thinking a lot about it, but now i can't climb or lift and, well, i just. food was calories, and i wasn't burning as many, and then, well.' she sighs and meets your eyes. 'i'm still kind of confused, to be honest. there's a lot going on.'
'you've got time to figure it out,' you assure. 'and, according to your sister,' you hold up your phone and read off jinx's text, just ordered wings, sliders, jalapeño poppers, loaded fries, brussels sprouts, and a pitcher for everyone so pls finish up whatever u two are doing (no details!!!!) bc i am NOT paying for all that :) xoxo
vi laughs, deep and real this time, and brings her hand up to hold your jaw in her palm. 'thank you.'
'there's no need. you really are the hottest you've ever been.'
she blushes. 'still, cait. thank you.'
you nod; you'll accept it for now. she gets dressed in a relatively new pair of thick cotton barrel pants she loves, ones you’d shopped for together, and puts on a beanie just to humor you; you kiss her for it even when she rolls her eyes at your clear delight.
you meet your family — hers, at first, sure, but yours too, a collective — at the bar, and of course, you do pay, and jinx toasts to your black card, and you roll your eyes but you laugh too. your home team wins and vi's favorite player gets a triple-double and when you get home later, full and a little tipsy, you're careful of her shoulder but you still show her all the ways you think she's sexy, and wonderful, and hot as hell.
when you wake up the next morning, she's still sound asleep next to you, naked and absolutely gorgeous. you, allegedly, were supposed to meet jayce for a run, but you text him for a raincheck. instead, you curl into her strong, capable side, and decide to let you both rest a little longer.
#arcane#arcane fic#caitvi#ok i'm sure ppl have written abt vi's fuller cheeks at the end of 209 but i want to SCREAM let her relax a little!!!!#but also wow. i fucking hate prisons irl. fuck the prison industrial complex so hard. acab forever#anyway there's so much more but i'm sure it'll pop up later#also i love cait being rich like yes girl get a lake house the way i would buy me wife a book or smth. dream!#& if ur wondering who vi's favorite player is obviously it's a'ja
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Down Time
MORE ARCANE FANFICTION I'M NOT SORRY it's CaitVi Hurt/Comfort this time tehehe enjoy
Word Count: 2703
Summary: Vi has a couple of hours to herself, and spirals when she realizes she has nothing to do. Caitlyn comforts her, and shows her something in the Kiramman mansion that brings up an old love.
CWs: Described panic attack, discussions of war-related PTSD, mentions of death, mentions of class imbalance, swearing
------------------------
No matter how long she spent there, Vi was certain that she would never get used to the overwhelming size of the Kiramman mansion. Even if Caitlyn had said it was more modest compared to some of the other councillor’s families, she in no way believed her. The place felt sprawling, endless hallways of rooms that had taken her weeks not to get lost in. Even now, despite living there, she still found herself getting turned around.
She’d found herself with a couple hours to spare while Caitlyn was busy, and immediately she was overcome with a deep-rooted anxiety.
“You sure there’s nothing I can help you with, cupcake?” She asked, hovering in the doorway to her girlfriend’s office. Caitlyn was staring at a machine that Vi knew held all of her mother’s decades of research, and she shook her head, clearly already in intense focus.
“Just give me a few hours, and I’ll be all yours. I just have a problem that I’m trying to work out.” She was chewing on her bottom lip, and sounded slightly dismissive in a way that made Vi know that the conversation was over. It wasn’t a personal attack, it was just the way she always got when she was trying to focus.
“Right. Okay. Cool. No worries. I’ll see you in a few hours then.” She peeled herself away from the doorway slowly, allowing the office door to swing shut behind her and trying to keep herself from being stressed out.
It wasn’t like she was trying to be clingy. Caitlyn was allowed to do things without her; hell, it was healthy for them to do things without each other. But she still felt her breath quicken as she made her way down the hall, walking aimlessly in the opposite direction of the office.
She’d been in situations that would have been the stuff of nightmares for her teenage self. She’d fought monsters, and fought people worse than monsters. She truly had very little left to be afraid of.
So why did the idea of having free time scare the shit out of her?
She had genuinely nothing that she needed to do. And while her normal recourses would be to drink or to train, she’d sworn off alcohol after her weeks in the pit, and she’d just done a pretty intense full-body workout that morning. Not having to be a walking weapon anymore meant she had to learn how to pace herself. How to think a week ahead, not just a day.
She was struggling to grasp the concept.
Having downtime wasn’t something she had been used to, in recent years. Definitely not since Vander died, but probably a bit before that. She’d been itching to fight from the moment she was old enough to comprehend the hand that the undercity had been dealt.
So she made sure that she could. She honed her skills in every spare moment she had. She got in street fights to practice, she went running to improve her stamina in case they needed to escape. She was watching her family, or she was training. Those were her only goals. For years.
And then she got thrown into Stillwater, and all of the sudden she was in survival mode.
She was almost certain that she’d never left.
Her breath was coming quicker now, and she mentally berated herself for being so ridiculous. She was perfectly safe. She had nothing to be afraid of here.
Yet her body was reading signs of panic anyway, on the edges of her mind and threatening to overwhelm her system. Her hands had begun to shake, and she couldn’t help but sink to the ground in the hallway, back pressed to the wall. She felt dysfunctional and childish; she shouldn’t have to rely on her girlfriend to give her tasks. What happened to having hobbies? She was certain that she’d had hobbies once, hadn’t she? Things that she wanted to accomplish with her time, before it had all been overcome with war?
She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to calm herself down. She didn’t even know what she was freaking out about, truly. Was she honestly that upset about not having anything to do? She could go take a nap, for fuck’s sake. This wasn’t that big of a deal.
But her brain wouldn’t listen to any of that, not once the panic attack had started. All she could do was sit on the floor and unravel while she waited for her mind to get its bearings. She only hoped that nobody would —
“Vi? What’s wrong?”
Fuck.
She moved her hands away from her eyes and saw a very concerned looking Caitlyn Kiramman at the end of the hall. Caitlyn rushed over to her side instantly, clearly scanning her body for physical injury as Vi was overcome with an undue feeling of embarrassment.
Of course she’d find her like this. Of course.
“Did something happen? Are you okay?” She seemed to have concluded that there were no external signs of damage, and Vi just shook her head slightly as she attempted to breath well enough to speak.
She held up a finger signaling for Caitlyn to wait a second, and she gave her the space she needed, watching in concern as Vi forced air in and out of her lungs. After a moment, Caitlyn joined her, sitting up against the wall next to her girlfriend and taking in calming breaths.
Vi had no idea how long they sat there like that. How long it took for the fog in her mind to clear and for her thoughts to unscramble themselves. Only that when they did, she was overcome with the urge to cry.
Caitlyn seemed to notice that she’d calmed down, because she turned to her again, lightly placing a hand on her leg to get her attention. Vi flinched a bit, refusing to look at her for a second before Caitlyn spoke.
“Did I do something wrong?” She asked, and Vi’s heart broke at the concern in her voice. She turned to her instantly, shaking her head.
“No, no, it wasn’t anything you did. I just… got overwhelmed. For a minute.” It was a bullshit explanation, and they both knew it. But Caitlyn just gently wrapped an arm around her girlfriend, allowing Vi to fall into her embrace.
She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t help it. Her body relaxed instantly, tears running down her cheeks as she let her head rest on Caitlyn’s shoulder.
“I don’t think… I don’t think I know how to be a person anymore,” She said, struggling to get the words out, voice choked with emotion. She had a hard time crying around other people, but that had long since gone out the window with Caitlyn. At this point, they’d both seen each other cry enough that they were well aware of what the other one needed.
And Vi just needed to get it out of her system. She pulled herself back together pretty quickly as Caitlyn gently ran her fingers through her cropped hair, but she still didn’t move from her girlfriend’s arms even after the tears had stopped. She just sniffled, feeling suddenly exhausted.
“What do you mean, you ‘don’t know how to be a person’?” Caitlyn asked once her crying had slowed. Vi just sighed, shaking her head.
“I don’t know. I’m being ridiculous.”
“Hey,” Caitlyn said, tilting Vi’s chin up so she was looking her in the eye. “If it’s impacting you, it’s not ridiculous.”
She nodded, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t had free time since before Vander died. Before… all of this. I don’t know what to do with myself now.”
“Oh, darling…” She was clearly thinking hard for a second, nodding to both herself and Vi. “I had a similar experience after my mom died. Everything in my mind was war, and anything that wasn’t didn’t feel like it had any place at all.”
“Exactly. And now that it doesn’t all have to be war… it’s like I don’t know how to be a regular functioning adult anymore.”
She felt Caitlyn’s arms tighten around her, and both women sat there in silence for a second, thoughts racing. Finally, Caitlyn spoke again.
“Well, what did you like to do? Before, I mean.”
Vi laughed a bit. “Hell, Cait, I was like ten. I don’t even know if I remember.”
Caitlyn laughed as well, before shaking her head. “Okay, then what did you wish you could do when you were a kid? Like, when you had free time, what did you want to do?”
“I mean, I’ve always genuinely loved boxing…”
“But aside from that. I know you love boxing and that’s great, but that’s also a survival tactic. What sounded like it would be fun to do, if you were able?”
She thought about it for a minute before her mind was drawn back to the job they’d done that started all of this. When she broke into Jayce’s lab, and the first thing she’d run to was the bookshelves lining the wall.
“I’ve always wanted to get more into reading. We didn’t have a ton of access to paper books in the undercity, but I remember when I was little devouring whatever my parents could get their hands on.”
She looked over at Caitlyn to see her grinning, a slightly mischievous smile that made Vi’s stomach flip. “Well in that case, I have something you’re going to be very excited to see.” She unwrapped her arms from around Vi’s frame, before asking, “Can you stand?”
“Yeah, I’m all good now.”
She rose to her feet, holding her hand out to help her girlfriend up and remembering the first time they were in this position. On the streets of Zaun, right after Vi had been stabbed. The first of many times that she had called her “cupcake.”
That felt like a thousand years ago now.
Still, she shook off her reverie as she felt Vi’s hand firmly in her’s, pulling her to her feet and quickly taking off in a brisk walk down the hall. Vi jogged a little to catch up, watching Caitlyn with a wary enthusiasm.
“Cait, where are we going?” She asked. Caitlyn just grinned again.
“You’ll see!”
They turned the corner to a hallway that Vi had never seen before, and were soon standing in front of a pair of double doors. Caitlyn was practically bouncing on her feet now, and she looked over at Vi excitedly.
“Are you ready?” She asked. Vi just raised an eyebrow at her, trying to act concerned even as a small involuntary smile flickered over her face.
“I think so?” She replied, the answer taking the form of another question. If Caitlyn noticed though, she didn’t care, just throwing open the doors in front of them to reveal the most beautiful room Vi had ever set eyes on in her life.
Just when she thought that Kiramman mansion couldn’t get any nicer, all the air left her lungs as she walked through the doorway and into an ornate library. Floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books lined the walls, and she wondered to herself how anybody could possibly read all of these in their lifetime.
And her second thought was of how badly she wanted to try.
She didn’t say any of this to Caitlyn though, of course. Instead, she just smacked her arm and said, “You fucking people have way too much money.”
“Hey, don’t look at me! I didn’t build the house.” She put her hands up in defense, even though it was clear that Vi’s tone was lighthearted. She still wasn’t really sure if she was truly upset or not when she marveled at Piltover’s wealth. There was a strange sense of guilt that ate at Caitlyn every time she mentioned it, despite the fact that these were simply positions they were both born into.
“How…” She was snapped out of her thoughts by Vi’s breathless exhalation, the two of them having now moved into the middle of the room so that her gaze could trace every single shelf. “How many are there?”
“Oh god, I have no idea. A lot. Some of them are my parents’, but a lot of them belonged to my grandfather as well. He was quite the collector.”
“But they all belong to your family?” Vi asked, hardly able to believe it. Caitlyn just nodded. She had never viewed the library as mundane, but she was relishing in seeing it through new eyes. Recognizing just how beautiful it truly was.
“And you can read every single one of them, if you want to,” Caitlyn said, and Vi’s gaze snapped to hers. She was grinning like an idiot now, and it made Caitlyn’s heart melt.
“I cannot believe I’ve been here for two weeks now and you haven’t shown me this yet,” She remarked, her tone carrying a joking accusation. Caitlyn just laughed.
“I didn’t know you were passionate about reading! And also, in my defense, we were both a little bit preoccupied.” The cleanup and restoration efforts after the fight with Viktor and The Arcane had been immense, and were nowhere near done yet. This was just the first time that either of them had had even an hour of downtime.
Vi just laughed, though her expression turned a bit more solemn with the reminder of everything that had happened over the past few weeks. Still, the shine in them wasn’t dimmed as she looked at the room around her. “So… you’re sure you don’t need help with anything?”
Caitlyn laughed too, and she shook her head. “Nope. Nothing. I’ve got it all taken care of, and you’re welcome to spend as much time in here as you want.”
Vi grinned, pulling her girlfriend in for a kiss. When they broke away, both of them were smiling. “Thank you so much.”
“Of course. I’m just glad that I could help.”
“You always help,” Vi said, a sincerity in her voice that made Caitlyn’s eyes water.
“I love you,” She said, pulling her in for another kiss before Vi could get a word out. She laughed when they broke apart again.
“I love you too, cupcake.”
Caitlyn took her leave from the library after that, leaving Vi to stand there marveling at her family’s collection. For a moment, she wasn’t even sure where to start. The shelves didn’t appear to be labeled in any particular organization system, and none of the titles sounded very familiar.
Until her eyes caught on a book that dragged up a memory she had completely forgotten that she even had.
“Holy shit,” She exclaimed under her breath, pulling it out and assessing the cover. It was in significantly better condition than the copy that she’d had as a kid, but the memory was vivid all the same. She opened it up, thumbing through the pages as scenes came rushing back to her.
Her ninth birthday, when her parents had given her a small package. It was her favorite gift she had ever been given. She read the entire thing that night, and then the next day she read it again, and again, sitting curled up in a corner booth at The Last Drop as she devoured the pages until they were practically falling apart. She’d lost it at some point in the move from her parents’ house to Vander’s after they were killed, and the loss devastated her.
And now she had it in her hands again.
It was a children’s book. It wasn’t like it was the peak of literature. With all the books in this library, she could surely find a better one. But at that moment, there was nothing she wanted to read more.
She held it tightly in her hands like it would slip away again, moving over to one of the armchairs in the corner of the room. Surrounded by books, nestled into a safe spot in the Kiramman mansion, she allowed herself to relax for what felt like the first time in years. She opened the cover.
And she felt the warmth of home.
#arcane#arcane fanfiction#arcane fanfic#caitvi#caitvi arcane#caitvi fanfic#caitvi fanfiction#hurt/comfort#arcane hurt/comfort#arcane season 2#arcane season two#post-canon arcane#caitvi hurt/comfort#caitlyn kiramman#vi arcane fanfic#vi arcane
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Those Late Summer Nights | Chapter 25
satoru gojo x f!reader x suguru geto
plot: moving to the city from a small town was no easy feat, especially to start teaching as a jujutsu sorcerer. — cw: this is a yandere story with upsetting themes throughout.
summary: satoru succumbs to a tough call, potentially ruining your life for good. shoko in the meantime spirals.
masterlist • ao3 • chapter directory • previous chapter • next chapter >
Chapter 25. Taking Risks
The next time you woke up, the air felt thick with an underlying mixture of both tension and regret. Satoru still held tightly around you, his arms slightly constricting ever so slightly from the moment he felt you stir into consciousness.
“Not yet,” he murmured into the crook of your neck, the hot sensation of his breath causing a shiver to run through your body. You still felt uncomfortable in his presence, but his sudden change of heart was starting to throw you off. Especially given that he practically begged for your forgiveness the night before.
Satoru did wake up later though. It didn’t take too long for him to follow suit. His silvery lashes fluttered open as his intense blue gaze fixed on you. He pushed himself up somewhat reluctantly, though quickly, not wanting to savour the prickle of the cold winter air. He did feel partial regret for sleeping in so late though, his eyes slightly widening at the time read on his nightstand table. The estate itself was empty today—at least for the most part—his plans aligned so well by accident what with the big three locked away in some sort of fundraiser—that an outsider could speculate that this was all planned.
(Although it wasn’t. Satoru simply just didn’t care for such things. So of course, it slipped right past him.)
“Do these fit?” he asked as he started throwing you some clothes from his wardrobe, packing the rest of whatever could fit into a suitcase he pulled out from under his bed. “It’s pretty cold out there, I’d hate for you to freeze.”
You stared down towards your lap at the cluster of clothing, somewhat reluctantly changing out of what you already wore while he was still distracted. The cold air kissed your skin, slightly stiffening your movements. The jumpers were fine, albeit itchy against your skin, while the trousers also did fit, but they ruched at the legs ever so slightly, with the tightness around your hips feeling strange. “Somewhat,” you muttered, “but why…?” you yawned, your mind slowly catching up. “Where are we going—”
With a start, Satoru interrupted you. His body grew taut too, but for different reasons. It was rare for him to snap, even under a lot of pressure. You heard about him throughout the better course of the summer, either through sharing a nightcap with Shoko or even Suguru passively speaking about the guy, that despite what he went through, the guy was almost eerily calm. The same could be said for right now, but maybe it was that he let such a facade down around you, or that you could read him better since you were within his company so often and in such a compromising position. Either way, though, even though his voice didn’t raise in the slightest and even though he, for the most part, reeled himself in—he snapped in his own way at you.
“—it was wrong for me to lock you up,” he spat, although tried to real himself in a moment later. He schooled his tone into something more measured, as though to convince you to go along, although, a part of this felt like a genuine confession, so you were left confused. “I should never have done that,” he added, bringing himself down to his knees in front of where you sat, taking hold of your hands and nestling it into his palms, the way he looked back up at you seeming almost desperate, “I don’t know how to fix things—not yet—what I can do though, is give us both enough some time to think, how about that?”
You blinked. Regardless of how he worded things, no matter what you felt for even a brief moment in time last night—something about this whole thing—still felt ridiculous. You started to feel it first with Suguru when he dictated who you could speak to and who you couldn’t, feeling not at all surprised deep down when he overwrote your life to better suit his own. Whatever Satoru was exhibiting right now wasn’t too different, claiming to offer you freedom or something close to it, yet all he was going to do really, was to change the scenery for your prison.
No, if he actually cared, then this wouldn’t be the way. The only reason he was bringing you along to bide time, was because he didn’t want to get caught. Not that he had much to worry about, being the influential guy that he was. You knew better than anyone, that any sort of scandal, as long as someone could be paid off, could be swept under the rug. In a way, you wanted them to do that. You were just so done. You wanted your silence to be settled in a generous sum, for you to be able to finally slink away from this insanity and just… disappear.
The audacity of others trying to sculpt your life to match whatever sort of convenience they were after, almost felt insulting to hear. Although you struggled with admitting it out loud to him and although you wanted to argue it, it was clear from when you looked into his eyes that Satoru had already made up his mind. He might want to fix things, but he wasn’t ready to let go of you just yet. Whatever mess you had gotten yourself into, couldn’t be fixed with something as simple as freedom. Without even thinking about it, after all, you managed to get yourself wedged within the company of two powerful, but also dangerous men, regardless of their status within jujutsu society.
You bit back a scoff. “Will you really fix it?” you asked, going along with it, but only because you had to.
“I’m not sure,” Satoru admitted, not holding back a scoff of his own. The way his eyes drifted down your legs didn’t feel objectifying, more so in the sense that he seemed to be avoiding eye contact for the time being. Something about it felt self-deprecating. “I know that I fucked up, that’s all,” he sighed, carefully choosing his words, “I never should have reacted the way that I did, I never should have… hurt you,” he paused, feeling his composure slip, but then continued anyway, “I feel like a terrible person. Am I? Although, please don’t answer that…” he dropped his head down to rest over your thighs, wrapping his arms right around your thighs next, “just… just… give me a second to figure things out.”
You didn’t reply as he rambled into the trousers he gave you, his breath slightly dampening the fabric as he sulked into you. After a couple of minutes had passed, he led you out into the dead of the winter and settled you into his car. If nobody else had seen you, then that was the best place for you to be, what with the windows being tinted. He rejoined you not too long after, making sure that everything vital that he needed was with him before buckling in and heading out.
He’d arrange for this place to be picked clean before anyone had the opportunity to notice. Megumi was safe elsewhere and he wouldn’t be returning, with him going immediately to the campus come next autumn. This was for the best because ultimately, he decided that getting you involved if even indirectly to his adopted son, wasn’t a good idea. Should you decide to stay in the end on your terms though, it would be a different story.
You on the other hand, just as he predicted, didn’t speak all that much. Your distracted, or otherwise, the facade of your own indifference was easier for him to work around, especially as he made the needed calls, instructing people on the receiving end of all sorts of measures and precautions to take when taking care of a name that hadn’t yet entered your circle. The way that he spoke with such care almost threw you off a little, seeing him be so soft-spoken in comparison to the sides of him you otherwise knew. The confident, joking side that he put on an extra long show of for the better part of the summer, or the eerily calm side that he pushed when you didn’t accept the initial circumstances of your new life.
It made you feel nauseated in a way to listen to him speak about someone with such genuine care, making you at the same time wonder just what on earth you did wrong for the attention you received from him to be so neglectful in comparison. He was capable of being tender, so why were you on the opposite spectrum for being on the receiving end of that, until now? You didn’t understand, that was all.
You sighed as your mind became preoccupied and even overwhelmed with such thoughts, although, your neutral expression didn’t betray a single thought. Instead, you kept on looking outside, watching the scenery pass you by. At the sky that you had dreamed of for so long and all of those other thoughts that had long occupied your mind. Guiltily, your mind couldn’t help but drift to Suguru as he drove, wondering exactly what it was that he had been up to right now. A part of you didn’t want to believe that he really murdered both your parents in addition to his own, your mind unable to grasp the possible connection between the two. Yui, you understood—that was revenge for your sake, or so he claimed—your family and his own, despite being so purposefully ignorant, didn’t hold onto that same resentment.
A part of you hoped otherwise, that Satoru lied to you when he disclosed such information. The venom in his tone though wasn’t something you could forget. It was as if he withheld it until he had to get you to break. The irony of him complaining for the longest time that you were being difficult when he was just as capable of being spiteful was insulting.
He almost broke you down too, but you couldn’t be too trusting just yet. Not even now and especially not when he was going to fix things. The fact that he withheld his thoughts from you and seemed adamant about moving you to an even more secluded prison, was evidence enough that this wasn’t going to solve a single thing.
Perhaps though, you supposed, he believed the words he spouted. It was just difficult for you to imagine that a man who inflicted pain on you in the most violating way possible, could just be ‘sorry’ for what he had done. For stealing you away and keeping you in some bleak hold, preventing you from living a life that you had tried so eagerly to reclaim for yourself. You bit back another scoff. He couldn’t be sorry, or at least, if he did feel sorry, then it wouldn’t be enough. No, he should be feeling despair, he should be feeling weak; fear should be coursing through his veins, striking him in the heart as he suffocated through the sheer piercing horror of what he had inflicted.
For him to only feel remorse per his own wrongdoings for the same reason that Suguru did when you admitted to the very same thing was insulting, because they both only seemed to excuse you when your trauma was great enough. For Suguru, it seemed to be the finalisation at least, you wondered just what it was for Satoru, next.
As you succumbed to such thoughts, silently stewing away in the passenger seat, Satoru was plagued by similar thoughts as he drove. The destination in mind was a quaint little house in a town not too dissimilar to yours. A simple property that he bought on a whim in cash when he took on both Megumi and Tsumiki. He did so just in case the two ever wanted to live a normal life, somewhere far away from sorcery. The parallels already invaded his mind the closer he got to it, though, wondering just what sort of life he could have had. Tsumiki from his knowledge, never had a cursed technique of her own. Megumi’s however, was awoken at the typical age. Had he followed his sister, who otherwise also stayed elsewhere into such a life, then maybe it wouldn’t have been too different from what you faced and he hated such a comparison.
Megumi was a gifted, almost eerily perceptive kid, after all. He saw things that the better part of the population couldn’t, exhibiting control of a power, that people couldn’t even begin to fathom. Had he ever attempted to live a normal life, just like his sister, or where Kento had gone off to, just like you before you had known—would it have been just as lonely? As ostracising?
Satoru couldn’t help but scoff at himself again, hating the way that he felt right then and now. It was constricting and painful to imagine such possibilities about the people he sought to bring peace to. He couldn’t bring himself to talk to you during the trip as a result, with the consequences of his actions catching up to him in a way that he couldn’t properly think about. All of the questions that haunted him in a way that he couldn’t answer properly aside from claiming he’ll be able to ‘fix things’ given enough time, not being surprised in the slightest, if you saw through his excuses.
He was thankful that you were dealing with this quietly, although, he was angry at the same time. It wasn’t that he wanted for you to just settle and accept all that he had inflicted, but he didn’t want to at the same time answer, straight to your face, why he would even think to assault you. Why he went from being a once good friend to your abductor? Or why, he was once again, doing something potentially horrible in your eyes, whisking you away from one place to another?
He supposed that this time you’d have more freedom, at least. As long as you didn’t wander outside and try to run your mouth, then he could think more about what he wanted to do. Blinking towards you for a brief moment, he knew that he could trust you on that front. You likely knew that telling on him was pointless given his stature, and although he hated that he could get away with such a cover, for the time being, it was surely beneficial.
As for what he wanted to do? Fuck. He didn’t even know. Satoru sucked at his teeth in thought. Something deeper kept gnawing at the back of his mind, though. Something darker. Satoru was beginning to understand a certain point that he talked Suguru out of committing to back when they were both teens. A consequence of humanity, indeed, but it couldn’t have been your fault. Maybe your experience and existence alone simply just served as a reminder, that the majority of the non-sorcerers that they were brought up to protect, weren’t that much better than the problem they sought to eradicate. The negativity had to come from somewhere, after all, and god, the modern world was swimming in it.
Maybe, for that reason, Suguru had a point after all. Satoru sighed and tried to shake away the thoughts as he pulled you both into the driveway either way, leading you inside, telling you to get comfortable as he absentmindedly started to unload the car.
Satoru took another deep breath. Maybe it was time to get back into touch with Suguru then, he thought. At least lately, and after such a fresh admission on your end, his decision in life started to make more sense than ever before.
Maybe everything did happen for a reason, he supposed, because what were the chances that someone as devastating as you would ever fall in between someone so volatile and someone so torn at the same time? Whatever it was, Satoru was starting to finally understand it, despite the way he was otherwise raised.
Perhaps the next course of action would have to be the more drastic one, because he was damned if this sort of life caught up to those he cared about, too.
~~~
Shoko continued to pace around the ward of the Kyoto Jujutsu College, barely wrangled in by Utahime who hovered around her with twitching hands, held up in a strained placating gesture. Shoko clawed at her hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. What did that mean for you, indeed? Satoru Gojo couldn’t have been missing—surely not! Did he know somehow about the plan, or was this some sort of twisted turn of fate, that just so happened to misalign with her plans?
In a fit of madness, she suddenly paused in the middle of it all, finding some sort of revelation, or perhaps comfort as she dipped her hands into her pockets, flipping the cigarette carton open, only for the pack to be empty.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Shoko…” Utahime tried to soothe her, trying to reign her in as irrationality threatened to take her over.
“I-I can’t do this, Utahime,” Shoko whined, almost, her voice coming out as a string of muttered drawls, leaning her back up against the wall as she pushed her palms over her eyes, “I’m so fucking tired.”
“Yuki is still willing to help,” Utahime softly spoke, trying to be the voice of reason, “I think if we try to do what we initially had in mind, then he could slip up at some point, maybe even reveal himself to us by accident and give us an opening.”
“An opening?” Shoko repeated, a hint of madness seeping into her tone. “To where?” her hands dropped and her eyes widened. “Baby, I love you, but to where? We have no idea where the fuck he’s gone off to this time.”
“We could stage something and get his location that way,” Utahime brainstormed, “maybe a hospital, or somewhere secluded.”
“All the while she’s somewhere we have no fucking clue of?” Shoko spat, feeling the exhaustion creep back in.
Utahime too, was beginning to feel tired—of everything. “We’ll follow him back then, or Yuki will.”
“You really think that his six eyes wouldn’t notice a curse user on his tail?” Shoko replied with a deadpan tone, although she didn’t mean it. In reality, this was her way of showing defeat, the hope gone from her voice.
Utahime tilted her head to the side, her pointer finger perched at her lip. “Non-sorcerers do exist, so perhaps we could hire a private investigator or someone similar to tag him. Somebody perfectly ordinary without even a hint of cursed energy.”
Shoko’s voice softened. “Would that even work?”
“I believe that if we figure out a general idea of where he’s staying, then yes,” Utahime assured, “we’ll make it work, at least somehow… we have to, right?”
Shoko nodded, already settling on a plan in mind. She wouldn’t do anything to harm Megumi, god no, but she could take him out for the day and drop an anonymous tip to Satoru that he was missing, possibly injured, or close to getting to such a state. Guilt flooded within her, but she had to do what she could, finally ending this once and for all. Another thought did enter her mind though. “What about… Suguru?”
Utahime paused. “A definite problem, but not impossible to deal with. Have you heard anything from him lately?”
Shoko shook her head. “I haven’t…”
“In that case,” Utahime considered, forming a plan of her own, “fill him in, but only briefly. He’s a good ally to have given that he’s likely the only one, despite everything else that has happened, that Satoru is likely to let get close.”
Shoko hummed. “Got it. Maybe he could cooperate and let me take hold of the girls for the day too, if I word it differently. He knows that I wouldn’t do anything to them, but at the same time I do need leverage…” she muttered off to herself, feeling once again nauseated at indirectly involving the kids, but for neither Satoru nor Suguru to screw them over in the plan they had so delicately crafted, there had to be a middle ground.
A few seconds passed, a new message on her phone emerged. The flirty undertone of the text told her that this was Yuki.
[Let’s meet~]
~~~
In the meanwhile, Suguru stared at his phone as it rang. His eyes were wide and almost manic, his lip twitching at the very thought. Satoru had a specifically assigned ringtone for his phone, so there was no denying it. He grabbed the phone within an instant, caving in after just a couple of seconds had passed, not sure what to expect.
“It’s me,” Satoru began the call, ready to disclose all that needed to, to bring himself over to his side and with some luck, to join forces if need be.
He was tired of running too, after all.
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