#i NEED them to find comfort in one another
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Gentle Love
Pairing: Rio Vidal x Fem!Reader
Summary: She may be Lady Death, but to you, she is your sweet love.
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: mentions of depression, panic attacks, just a lot of hurt/comfort
a/n: surprise! another fic! i know a lot of people have been wanting just rio fics, so here you go! a little hurt/comfort! the goal was to make a mental health fic where it isn't romanticized, so here's hoping i did that! enjoy!!!
Your relationship with Lady Death wasn’t one that had a spontaneous start. She didn’t save you from a painful demise, or help you realize life was worth living.
She had met you on her day off. (Yes, Lady Death gets days off. She’s not the only one working the underworld, you know.) She was wandering through a wooded area when she came across you. You were sitting under a willow tree, humming to yourself as you wove a crown of daisies.
Her heart had practically melted at the sight of you, and she found herself gravitating towards you. Before she knew it, she was introducing herself to you and you were inviting her to join you beneath the willow.
The two of you were pretty much inseparable after that. You spent countless days getting to know every part of each other; mind, body, and soul. Soon enough, you were deeply in love with Rio Vidal: Lady Death. And she could say the same about you.
You both had grown exponentially by being in each other’s presence. But a romantic relationship doesn’t mean the absence of all problems.
Rio struggled deeply with guilt. She hated that she had been bound to this calling, that she had been chosen to wear a face she found hideous and escort living creatures to a world beyond life. It pained her to take children from their mothers, sisters from their brothers, soulmates from their lovers.
But you were so soft with her. Soft as you kissed her in her Death form, soft as you held her while she shook with guilt and self-hatred, soft as you assured her that she was doing the right thing. That you loved her always.
As for you, mental illness was something you had dealt with from a young age. After all, being a witch who was chased from countless villages and hunted endlessly, all for possessing a magical ability she never asked for…well, it tends to have some lasting negative effects on one’s mental well being.
You were proud to say you knew how to handle it, but you had your weak moments. Moments like now. And you hated them.
As you woke up, you felt a familiar heaviness in your bones. Your heart felt heavy but was racing all the same, your head ached, and your stomach churned with dread and anxiety.
You turned to the other side of the bed, reaching for your comfort, your person, only to find it empty. Your eyes filled with tears as you took a deep breath.
You wondered if you should call her. You hated that the thought even crossed your mind. You could handle this alone.
“But you don’t have to,” your lover’s words echoed through your mind as you pondered what to do.
You and Rio had created a system for times like this. If ever you were feeling like the walls were closing in, like you couldn’t breathe, like you could barely function. All you had to do was think of a color and a name. Her name.
Yellow meant you were struggling, but could handle it alone if need be. Red meant you needed her.
You rarely tended to use red. You loved Rio, and you knew full well that her presence helped to calm you in times of discomfort and anxiety, but you couldn’t pull yourself out of your need to be independent and not rely on anyone for help. You hated admitting the need for help.
Even now, as you laid in bed, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to breathe, you refused to admit defeat. But you knew you owed it to both her and yourself to say something.
Yellow. Rio. Yellow, you thought as you brought your hands to your face, willing your breathing to calm down.
It was no use. All you could think of was how useless you were, how helpless, worthless, weak.
You choked out a sob as the room seemed to get smaller and smaller.
Until you felt gentle hands on your wrists, tenderly pulling them from your face.
“Hey there, sweet girl. Let’s sit you up, yeah?” Rio said softly.
You followed her instructions, allowing the witch to help you to a sitting position.
You met her eyes, expecting to see disappointment and disgust, but instead being met with nothing but love pooling in her brown eyes.
Her hands moved from your wrists, gently intertwining her hands with yours.
“There’s my girl. Let’s try and get that breathing to slow down. Wanna get some more air in those beautiful lungs of yours, yeah?” She cooed, her eyes encouraging.
You nodded, and she took one of your hands, placing it on her stomach as she took exaggerated breaths as an example.
You began to copy her, your eyes not leaving hers, feeling safe as you lost yourself in her.
She squeezed your hands softly. “Look at you go. Breathing all by yourself. I’m so proud of you, mi vida,” she whispered as you found yourself finally able to breathe steadily.
You both sat there for a few more minutes, her allowing you the space to feel whatever you may be feeling as you came back to your senses.
You opened your mouth to speak, struggling to find words to express your needs. As if she had read your mind, Rio let go of your hands to reposition herself against the headboard of the bed and opened her arms to you.
You smiled at her in gratitude, moving to sit in between her legs, laying your back against her front as she held you.
You both sat in silence for a few moments, just soaking in each other’s presence; Rio running her fingers through your hair with one hand and softly caressing your leg with the other.
Eventually, she spoke.
“I’m so proud of you.”
You shrugged against her and she shook her head.
“I’m serious, my love. I’m proud of you for calling for me.”
“Feel weak,” you mumbled as you hung your head.
Rio furrowed her brows, turning you to face her. “Quite the contrary, love. You are the bravest person I know. You can handle these things on your own. I know you can. But you knew it wasn’t what was best for you, so you called for me. And I’m so grateful to be in love with such a strong, beautiful girl who knows how to help herself,” she said, her voice full of adoration that brought tears to your eyes.
“I love you, Rio,” you choked out, your hands finding her cheeks, thumbs brushing against the skin softly.
She placed her hands on your waist, allowing you to initiate the kiss.
You brought her face to yours, kissing her with all the love you had. She kissed you back, softly, always softly, pecking your lips softly as you pulled away.
“I love you most, my precious girl,” she said, laughing as you rolled your eyes at her need to turn everything into a competition.
She kissed the tip of your nose, relishing in the way you wrinkled it at the sensation.
“Alright, I prescribe you a glass of water, some chocolate chip pancakes, and cuddles with your hot girlfriend,” she said as she got up, smirking at you.
She beamed in triumph as you giggled. “Well if that’s what the doctor herself ordered, who am I to disagree?” you teased.
“My thoughts exactly. I’ll be right back, my brave girl. I love you,” she said, her eyes softening again.
“I love you, Rio Vidal,” you said with a smile, and she blew you a kiss before exiting your bedroom.
Yes, she was Lady Death, but to you, Rio Vidal would always be your gentle love.
#agatha all along#rio vidal x reader#marvel one shot#rio vidal#aubrey plaza#aubrey plaza x reader#rio x reader#agatha all along x reader
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God I love this au, it's feeding me so good today. The last one with the part about only one bedroom has me thinking about a sick reader, the gross kind of sick where you're sweaty and wheezy and snotty, and the fact that if it were anyone else Simon would be quarantining them. But because it's his spouse, he wakes up to you nasally wheezing and mouth breathing while sprawled across him, and all he can think about is when you're due for your next round of medicine and if he needs to buy more tissues.
Sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste. Also do the guinea pigs have names and what do they look like?
I'm dying. This is the first ever ask I've ever gotten (that I recall) and I'm going to pass away. Also "sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste" that is such a good line, I'm apologizing in advance if I steal it.
Also warning for content of being sick, this is based off my last bout of plague.
Also Also Here's the Masterlist
Bedsharing in general does not happen at first. (Now I want to percolate an idea about sharing the bed for the first time). You're way to use to having your own bed that sharing with someone means you're not sleeping easily and I think Simon would rather sleep with the guinea pigs in their cage than have another human being that close to him when he sleeps. (This was also not something he initially thought about when being told a spouse was to be picked)
So what's the solution? Obviously bunk beds! Kind of, sorta...okay not really but the look on Simon's face when you had suggested getting bunk beds had been entertaining. Who knew so much indignation could come through a medical mask. Really his eyebrows did so much talking.
With the dream of bunkbeds dashed, the next best solution was either two twin beds crammed into the bedroom with a bedside's worth of space between them, or a pull out couch. You managed to find a couch same day that didn't terribly clash with the artwork you have yet to hang up.
You two actually manage to come up with a schedule for who slept where. Obviously you'd get the bed when Simon was deployed, made no sense for you not to. And when he was home the bed was all his unless he was having a night that he knew he wasn't going to trust a deadbolt to keep monsters at bay. Then he made himself comfortable, TV playing low until he managed a few hours in the early morning before you try to leave a silently as you can for work.
(Funny thing, even if you aren't sharing a bed traditionally, you both most certainly have your own sides, along with bed stands that told two different stories)
The first time you get sick is when Simon is technically deployed. Well actually, the day he returns is the day you spike a 101.8 fever and work forces you to go home so you don't become a walking petri dish and expose the college kids that come into your office.
Once you're home you appease the little beasts demanding some sort of vegetal boon, change into the rattiest clothes you have, and then huddle under a staggering amount of blankets that have made their home on your bed. (Simon may have side eyed them when you first set them out, but you've seen the mountain he creates under them, you knew the magic of weighted blankets)
Sleep isn't peaceful, you hadn't broken out the Nyquil quite yet, but you do manage to drift off for a few hours. And then the coughing starts. It's the kind that's a bitch to deal with, dry and pushing your ribs to the limit with how often they can expand and contract. By the time Simon comes home you've steamed yourself twice, taken only a smidge over the recommended amount of cough suppressant, and slathered yourself with Vic's Vaporub. All in all, you were properly miserable.
You're in the kitchen, staring into the abyss of your over-steeping tea as if it will magically make you feel better if you only sell your soul to it, really a tempting offer, when the wheeks of the pigs announce that another person they know has arrived.
If Simon wasn't clued in that something was off at seeing you home before the end of your work day, the pungent smell of menthol would have been a dead give away. You're still communing with your tea when he knocks against the wall, pulling you out of the deal for your soul to meet him with bleary eyes and a flushed face.
You croak out a greeting that makes Simon wince in sympathy, though that's about all he really does. Simon doesn't really do pleasantries and doting probably wouldn't be the first word people use to describe him, so with your brain function reduced by an overflow of mucus and fever, the kitchen was rather silent.
Until you started coughing, face buried into the crook of your elbow to try to keep your contagion to a minimum and back bowing to nearly double you over. That drives Simon to action, coming to try to keep you up incase you collapse, grabbing your free arm.
When you feel him touch you, you try to pull away, shaking your head and finally finishing your bout, gasping a little as you try to daunting task of breathing and speaking to dissuade him from getting close lest he catches what you have. He clearly wasn't persuaded, hands clenching and unclenching like he simply wanted to pick you up and put you...somewhere.
How exactly Simon Riley would take care of you, he didn't know but he'd be damned sure to at least try. He'd been left to fend for himself while sick before and he didn't like the idea of you going through that. When it was clear that he wasn't going to just leave you to your suffering you relented enough to try to reach a compromise; if he'd be alright watching the pigs while you were sick that would be more useful than a nursemaid while you camped out on the couch.
That...that was something Simon could do. He'd watched how you took care of the boys, surely this was something he could do. And then his brain caught up to the rest of what you had said. There was no way he was going to let you sleep on some pull out couch, as nice as it was. Being Sick meant sleeping in a proper bed, on a mattress that didn't spend it's days folded up.
You tried to insist it was alright but he wouldn't listen to a word of it. Instead he practically herded you back to the bedroom, ignoring your murmurs of your abandoned hot beverage. He didn't lift you to plop you onto the bed itself but it was a near thing. He had to bribe you with the promise of a proper cup of tea for you to even lay your head on your pillow, eyes already heavy with the need for sleep. By the time he had actually made a cup you were out for the count, nasally mucus filled snores letting him know you hadn't perished in the time it took him.
The next few days were filled with mucus, the attempted escape of your lungs via coughing fits, and more Vics than the human body should be exposed to. And the entire time you insisted that you could fend for yourself. Simon didn't push to play nurse, but your tissues never ran out, a dose of medication was always ready on your bedside, and a warm cup of tea stood waiting for you after each nap, like a solider committed to his guard.
Edit;
I'm going to make a separate post for the guinea pigs, because honestly I'm torn on if they're based on my guinea pigs I used to have, or guinea pigs I'd want to have in the future
#cod#simon riley x reader#simon x reader#simon ghost riley#military program spouse#I didn't mean to write so damn much but uh...surprise?
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Medical Emergency
Summary: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fe!Reader -> When Jake gets a call asking to pick you up from the hospital, it's safe to say he's confused. Especially considering neither of you were known for getting along with the other.
Disclaimer: Enemies to lovers, brother's best friend, descriptions of being ill (nothing fully specified, just fainting a lot, low blood sugar and hormones), swearing, fluff, steamy moments, he takes care of you. This has been in my w.i.p for a while now so it's kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.
It was safe to say Jake was confused to find out he was your emergency contact.
It was known to most people in the town that you and Jake weren’t exactly the best of friends. The hatred started all back when he was brought into Top Gun the first time round. Before he suddenly became the best, of the best of the best. And each year he came back, it only got worse.
Neither of you would be surprised if everyone in San Diego knew about how much you and Jake didn’t get along.
So, yeah. Getting a call from a Nurse called Emma telling him he needed to come and pick you up from the hospital…he was confused.
He’d spent most of the day training the new recruits at Top Gun. He was on base when he got the call, but twenty minutes later, he was parked outside the hospital and was being shown to your room.
“She’s to take two of these every six hours for the next three days. If she has any drastic changes; dizziness, nausea, vomiting, etc. Bring her back. But she should be okay.”
He hadn’t even been told what had happened.
Then he saw you.
On a typical day, your hair was either up or down. You typically wore bright colours since the kids in your class like to point them out and name them. And even at the end of the week when you’d walk into the Hard Deck, Penny already having your drink waiting for you, and you’d look tired and ready to go to bed, you were still…bright. Put together.
But from where he was standing, you were dressed in grey sweats and a Top-Gun hoodie. Most likely, you thought it was your brother’s. But from the worn hole around the edge of it let Jake know it was his. One your brother had never returned to him.
You looked…like you needed to be comforted.
Your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail at the base of your skull. Any hints of make-up had been long washed away. Your nail polish was chipped, if not already peeled from your nails.
Finally slipping your shoes on, you stood slowly. You looked like you needed to sleep for a year, and maybe take another nap for eight months.
“Just sign here and here and then you’re free to go.”
Jake watched as the nurse’s words just about registered in your ears before you slowly picked the pen up from her hand and signed your name at the bottom of the paper.
Reaching to grab the rest of your stuff, Jake almost swooped forwards. “I’ve got it.”
You just nodded. “Thanks.”
Any other day, you would have told him you could do it yourself and tell him to fuck off.
He picked up your overnight bag and, with a hand at the bottom of your back, led you out of the hospital.
“This way.”
You followed him back to his car and once he knew you were safe inside the passenger seat, he rounded the car and got into his seat.
“I did tell them just to call me a cab. You can just drop me off down the road. You don’t need to-”
“I’m not letting you walk home.” He told you. “What’s your address?”
Part of Jake wished you’d fight him more about walking home. At least that way he’d know you were actually okay. He still would have driven you home, but…he wanted you back.
Typing your address into his phone, he followed the sat-nav.
By the time he pulled up outside your house, you were asleep. He waited for five minutes, letting you sleep whilst he researched and read the prescription you’d been given.
Then he looked up at your house. You had to have a spare key.
Carefully, he left his car and walked up your path. He looked in all the typical places until he found a small patch of wood from your porch coming loose. Inside was your key.
So, opening your door and carrying your things inside, he came back for you.
Unbuckling your seatbelt, he placed one of your arms around his neck before placing his own arms around your back and under your legs.
“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
And you did.
Shutting the door to his car with his back, he carried you into your house, shutting your front door with his foot before taking you into your bedroom and laying you on top of your sheets. Looking around, he found a basket of blankets just under your window.
However, as he covered you up, he checked your temp with the back of his hand. You seemed okay.
Then you reached for him.
It was only for a few seconds, but you held his hand before your body fell back to sleep.
Before he left your room, Jake got you a glass of water and left your window on a latch. And then he stayed.
Kicking off his boots by the door, he locked everything up around your home before laying down on top of the guest bed with a million and one questions circling around his head.
Why was he your emergency contact? What had happened? Why didn’t anyone else tell him you were in the hospital for, clearly, more than a couple of hours?
You spent the next two days in and out of consciousness. The hospital told Jake not to worry and that it was a good sign you were sleeping. He’d wake you every couple of hours and give you your tablets.
And each time, you’d wake up with the same confusion of how and why he was in your house. And then you’d remember. And apologise. And thank him. Before he’d tell you to lay back down and get some rest.
By the time you came round, you woke up to texts pinging on your phone.
How could you not tell me you were dating someone?
We SERIOUSLY need to catch up about this when you’re back in.
Your boyfriend called the school. Why is this how I’m finding out you’re sick?
Get better soon, honey xoxo
Also, don’t worry about the kids. I’ve got your class covered.
One of your fellow-teacher best friends. You and her had joined the school as teachers in the same year. She had been away on a cruise for the last two weeks.
Slowly, everything that had happened over the last two days came flooding back to you. They had called Jake. He had come to get you at the hospital. He kept waking you up. Had he stayed that whole time? Was he the one to call your school?
Pulling yourself from your bed and heading to the bathroom, you caught a look of yourself in the mirror. You looked…rough. And also the exact same as you had when you’d left the hospital. Maybe there was a little more colour in your cheeks.
And you did feel better.
The room felt still and you didn’t feel like throwing up all your insides out, despite being unable to do so.
Drying your hands on the towel, you made your way through your home. Things were…tidy. Militarily so. The last time your place, although tidy, had looked militarily tidy had been when your brother had visited you before he got deployed again.
So, either, he was here now. Jake was still here. Or you had a ghost haunting your house that just so happened to be in the Navy.
Walking down the stairs, you found a pair of boots at the bottom of your stairs. They definitely weren’t yours.
Then you heard someone in the kitchen. The smell of fresh bread and chicken noodle soup wafted through your home.
It was a minute or two before Jake spotted you. It felt like a fever dream, watching him in your kitchen, dressed normally, a towel slung over his shoulder as he slid the bread buns from the tray to a cooling rack.
“Oh, hey. You’re awake.”
You nodded. “Did you cook?”
“How are you feeling?” Jake made his way over to you, his hand coming to touch your forehead and cheeks. You swatted his hands away. You could have sworn you saw him smile after you did it.
“Get off me, I’m fine.”
Jake smiled as he watched you make your way to sit down on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You looked way better than you had done when he saw you in the hospital.
“What day is it?”
“Tuesday.” He told you, continuing to slide all but one of the bread buns onto the cooling back. The final one, he dropped onto a plate before dishing out a bowl of the soup.
“Eat up. You’re gonna need your strength.”
You looked at the food in front of you. “You made this?”
“I made it.”
You looked at him sceptically. “Is this how you plan to kill me? She was weak, your honour. I just wanted to help her.”
“Why would I take care of you for three days and then kill you? It’d be easier if I did it in three days.”
“So you did think about it.”
Jake rolled his eyes and handed you a fork. “Just eat.”
You couldn’t lie, it was one of the best meal’s you’d had in a long time. And as you ate, you looked around your home. Your books had been tidied away and back onto your shelves. All except two. One you were part way through reading and one that was…almost finished. But not by you.
You didn’t notice as Jake watched you take everything in. Your books, your pots of pens. You dish towels, your spices and other baking ingredients. Some had even been put into the jars you had been meaning to fill back up. Then you noticed the smaller things. Like how he’d put up the wooden signs in your kitchen you’d been planning to do for months, and how he’d cleaned…everything.
It looked like he’d done a complete renovation of your place whilst you’d been knocked out.
Then you noticed the pile of papers on your kitchen counter.
The English and maths tests you’d given to your class a few weeks ago. You hadn’t finished marking them.
But Jake had.
You took the top paper and looked it over.
“Did you mark these?” You flipped through the pages. Not only were they marked, but they were marked correctly. They even had a sticker on each of “well done” or “great stuff”.
You heard Jake chuckle. “I am a teacher, too, you know.”
“You’re a…Top Gun instructor. Not a third-grade teacher.”
“I do suppose I am over qualified to help but-”
You shook your head. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so insulting.
“No, I-I mean, thank you. But you didn’t have to do this. Any of this.” You gestured around your home. “You already did enough bringing me home.”
“I wanted to ask you about that. Why was it me that brought you home? Surely you have people who you actually like, to be your emergency contact?”
Tyler watched as you fell silent and searched for the words to tell him.
“You’re…not.” Taking a breath, you looked up at him. “They…they tried a couple of people. They couldn’t make it. One of the nurses knows Penny so called and asked if she had anyone’s number who I knew. I did try and tell them to just call me a cab.”
He let your words settle over him.
“Who?”
“What?”
“Who else did you call? Who didn’t pick up?”
You listed them off. Most were people in your family and a couple of friends.
“I would have fought them on it but-”
“I’m glad you called me.” Jake admitted you. And it struck you. “Give me your phone.”
You slid it over to him. And he called his number from your phone.
“If anything like that happens again, I want you to call me.”
“Jake-”
He shook his head. “You’re not fighting me on this. Fight me on everything else. Anything else. But not this. Call me.”
So you just nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. And eat up, too.”
You did. “You say that as if we’ve got some place to be.”
“We do.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
Twenty minutes later he practically shoved you into your bathroom en-suit telling you to shower and get changed.
“I thought my nurse was meant to be kind.”
“I am kind!” He said. “And I’m not a nurse. And I’m a friend.”
You laughed a little at that one.
“I’ve seen the inside of your junk drawer. I’m your friend. I have to be, or else I don’t have a word for it.”
He did have a point on that. Your junk drawer…even you hadn’t seen the inside of that thing in at least a year.
So, after getting dressed, taking the last of your antibiotic and forcing some kind of health smoothie Hangman had made you with the blender he found at the back of your cupboard, you found yourself back in the passenger seat of his car.
“Where are we going?”
He said nothing, just smiled and pulled the aviators from his collar and put them on before starting his engine and for a moment you wondered if that was what he did when he got into his jet. Flash his million-dollar smile before starting his jet engine and taking off into the sky. For a moment you wondered what it would be like to watch him land and look over at you just like he did.
But then you forced yourself back to reality.
This was Jake Seresin, aka Hangman. Given that name because he hangs his team out to dry.
But he didn’t leave you.
In fact, he was the only one to show up.
And the first to stay.
You read the road signs as best as you could until you realised where he was taking you.
“You know there is a beach like ten minutes from my house.”
He nodded. “I know. But you’re there all the time. You’ve seen that patch a thousand times. This is different.”
“How? Isn’t all sand the same?”
He shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe. But they always say the beach can work a thousand miracles. Come on.”
It was a five minute walk to the bottom.
“Is it usually this empty?”
He looked around. “There’s usually a couple more people, but yeah. This is usually it. Not many people drive this far down. They think it’s not the best but to me…couldn’t be more perfect.”
“Huh.”
“What?” Jake asked, looking at you.
You continued looking out to the water. You shook your head. “No, nothing. Just…never thought you’d be the sentimental type.”
“Well…I’m not.”
You looked at him.
“To most people.”
It was at that moment you felt a small crackle. Either in your chest or your gut, something crackled. And you felt the blanket of hatred you had for Jake Seresin start to fade.
His call sign might be ‘Hangman’, but you had a strong feeling that when it came to those he cared about…he tried his best to stick around. And even if he couldn’t, he’d make a memory of them to last a lifetime.
For the rest of the day, you spent most of your time lying on the beach watching the waves or reading your book, which he had packed. And it was…one of the best days you’d had in a long time.
“Why are you doing this?”
“What?” Moving the book from his face, Jake looked at you from beneath his shades as you lay on your stomach beside him.
“This? Less than a week ago I’m pretty sure people would have made money on you and I killing each other. Why are you helping me?”
“Because you need it. And I’m pretty sure anyone else would believe you when you say that you don’t.”
“And you don’t believe me?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know you.”
You scoffed. “What do you mean you know me?”
You watched as he smiled and tried to kill the butterflies in your stomach.
“Y/n.”
You were still getting used to the fact he was using your first name. Usually it was your last, or some sweet nickname like ‘Sweetheart’ that would grate through your entire body.
“You spend most of your time making sure everyone feels okay and is doing okay. The only time you actually let your feelings know is when you’re taking shit to me. You deserve a break. You deserve to take one before your body forces you to have one.”
Hearing his words as he spoke, you slowly sat up until your back was to the water and you were fully facing him.
“Plus, your brother asked me to look out for you. And I’d rather not suffer his wrath again.”
Okay, that had to be complete bull. Your brother’s wrath when it came to protecting you, that was true. But why ask Jake of all people given he knew your history and track record with him.
And what did he mean by again?
You barely had time to ask all of your questions before you watched him stand up, throwing his book closed to the ground. You mentally scolded yourself for letting your eyes wander all over him.
You weren’t blind to the fact Hangman looked, well, like him. A daring smile, enough charm to charm even the most sourest of people and the body to go with it. But before today, you had been immune. At least, you considered yourself immune since the blanket of hatred that you held for him seemed to block plenty out.
Worst of all, he caught you.
You knew he caught you because of the smirk on his face and the chuckle that escaped his broad chest.
“Shut up.” You groaned, forcing yourself to stand. “I’ve been in the hospital. My immune system is temporarily weakened.”
“It isn’t the first time I’ve caught you, Sweetheart.” Seresin drawled just as you looked at him both annoyed and confused. And maybe slightly offended that he thought you had, before today, purposefully checked him out.
But he just laughed. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
“But what about our stuff?”
“It’ll be safe. I know most of the people on this beach, they’ll make sure nothing happens to it.”
Taking your hand in his, he led you down the beach, under a small cove and through to the otherside where some rocks were covered in seaweed and sand.
And for a while, you and Jake explored the place. You’d never been this far down the beach so finding out it existed was a bonus. Finding seaweed to pop and watching the crabs crawl across some of the rocks was fun.
You’d never stop to take a break. Straight out of college, you’d begun teaching. It had been in your home town until your brother got accepted into Top Gun. And, with an internalised fear of losing him, you moved out to San Diego. You knew after a while he’d be stationed somewhere else, but you’d managed to find a home there. And when your brother was stationed not too far from his Top Gun base, the rest of your family moved closer.
Since then, it has been helping them get settled, tutoring their children after spending all day teaching. It was sleepless nights spent alone at home, living off the quickest food you could make because you simply didn’t have time to cook. It was running yourself so far into the ground that the one person who you never thought would even step foot into your home was the only one to show up and give you enough space to actually relax.
So watching crabs walk along the rocks was fun.
And hearing your name, and calling out his name above the waves, without hatred or malice behind it, was fun, too.
“Come and look at this.”
Carefully, you made your way over the rocks, trying your best not to slip and hit your head. And you did so, until the last rock before you joined him.
Letting out a small yell as you reached out to try and catch yourself, he threw out his hand and caught you.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“Can you stand?”
You lowered yourself to a lower rock, still holding onto his arms before letting go and allowing yourself to take his hand and help you up the rest of the way.
“What am I looking at?”
It was a starfish.
The rest of the day, you and Jake explored the shore, skipped rocks on the calming water, sunbathed and even took a swim in the water.
By the time the sun had set, you found yourself sitting with him on the hood of his car, a pizza box between you both, watching the planes fly from the airport.
A week ago, if anyone had told you that you would have done any of this, especially with Hangman, you would never have believed them.
“Thank you, for your help.” You blurted out as you watched another plane fly into the sky.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes, I do.” You wanted him to listen to you. “Given our track record for being nice to each other, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you didn’t turn up at the hospital to bring me home. But you did. And you made sure I didn’t fall into some kind of coma after it. And today you gave me the first day, I think, ever, where I’ve not done a thousand things for somebody else and enjoyed what I was doing. So, I do need to thank you for that.”
“Are you saying…you…like me?”
You couldn’t stop the smile on your face, but you tried to force it away. “Okay.”
“No, no. I mean, this is a miracle.”
“You’re tolerable.” You corrected him.
Smiling, he took another slice of pizza. “You like me.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You like me. I am now your friend. We are now friends.”
You shook your head, holding in a laugh. “Just shut up and eat your pizza.”
It was safe to say after that, that everyone was shocked at the dynamic between both you and Hangman.
They had all gotten so used to the insults and borderline flirty comments you’d both sling each other's way, it had become like white noise. So, when it was gone and replaced with laughter and smiling, it gave everyone a terrified feeling.
“I’m guessing they’re not here yet.”
Penny shook her head as she poured another pint. With a smile, she nodded over to the other end of the bar. “They’re over there.”
Twenty minutes later, it had become like a social study for everyone in the bar to watch you and Jake.
“Do you think they fucked? Got all that pent up energy out?”
Coyote shook his head. “No, he would have told me. How long have they been like this? Maybe they’ve been hypnotised into liking each other?”
Rooster shook his head. “The hypnotist left like three months ago. Maybe they’re…faking it. Do you think they heard us talking about them last week? About who would kill who first? Maybe they’re teaming up so nobody wins?”
Penny shook her head as she wiped down the bar. “Well, whatever it is, it’s a nice change. She looks a lot happier. They both do. Who knows, maybe next we’ll be holding a wedding here.”
“Not their wedding?” Rooster seemed shocked. “Penny, they were about three insults away from killing each other three weeks ago.”
“Love is blind, as they say.”
For the rest of the night, people watched you and Jake sat together. Seresin and Y/l/n. Hangman and Sweetheart.
And then they watched as you walked home.
Together.
It was safe to say everyone was shocked to their core. For the first time ever, there had been a night where both you and Jake had not only been in the bar at the same time but had also sat together for the whole night, and not once killed each other.
Verbally or otherwise.
“You know, you’re not as big of a dick as I thought you were Seresin. Tonight was a nice change.”
“I have been known to be kind once in a while.”
“Keep this up, you might be fit to see another day.”
“So might you.” Jake replied as he watched you climb the steps of your front porch. “I meant what I said, about taking a break. You deserve one, Y/n.”
You took in what he said with a small nod before adding. “You know, it’s still freaking me out, you even know my first name.”
“If it helps, the nurse had to tell me.” He said. “Guess I’ve called you by your last name so much, I forgot your first.”
“Is that why you keep saying it? So you don’t forget?”
He shrugged, a slight smirk on his face. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“You know, it is okay if you forget it once in a while.”
Jake smiled a little at that. “How could I forget the name of the woman who once dumped three shots of tabasco sauce into my drink?”
“Hey, you can’t prove that was me.”
“Hey, the bottle was in your hand.”
You unlocked your door. “I still plead not guilty.”
“Whatever you say, Sweetheart. Sure you’re okay on your own?”
You nodded. “I’ll be fine. Besides, don’t you have an early start in the morning?”
He nodded. “Even so. Call me.”
“Goodnight, Jake.”
“Night, Sweetheart.”
He waited for you to lock your doors before he got into his car and drove back home.
The following weeks continued the same way. If anybody who was anybody saw you and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin together, in the same room, talking. They would stop and watch.
Never in a million years did anyone expect you and Jake to talk, never mind actually become friends.
Each Friday, you met each other at the bar. You both have a drink. You’d both sit and talk. Maybe some of your old ways were still there with each other, but there was less “25 to life” about it and more “affection” in the words you both said.
However, it nearly gave people an aneurysm when they thought you were both actually dating.
Two people who were thirty seconds away from physically fighting each other every day had gone from, well, that, to…to…to dating?
It couldn’t be…could it?
And the rumours that had been spread by one of the bar regulars, after she’d spotted both of you grocery shopping together before spotting Jake’s car leave from the top of your road hours later, were only fueled when they heard about what happened at the school.
It had been months since you fainted and you had been getting better. You felt better, you felt like you had more energy. And with Jake’s help you started to feel like a person again. A person who wasn’t wholly consumed by their work constantly, whether they were ten miles from the building or not.
Except, one morning, you woke up and felt…off.
Something wasn’t right. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something didn’t feel right. Maybe your period was coming early. It has been doing that lately. Surprising you when you least expected or wanted it.
Just a few weeks ago, it had arrived early once again. And the pain you’d felt in the days before nearly floored you. And when you hadn’t showed up at the bar like you’d agreed to with Jake, he came looking for you. That night he’d taken a quick trip to the grocery store after you told him what happened. He looked after you. Made sure you were okay. The next day, he drove you back to the store and you stocked up on supplies and snacks.
It was also later that night when he surprised you by making dinner.
Opening up your fridge, you took one of the healthy smoothies that Jake had left you the last time he’d come round, before packing it into your bag and heading to work.
Your queasy feelings only got worse. And then…you felt it.
Sticking on a documentary for your class, you took your phone and slowly made your way towards the teachers bathroom, stopping off at the next class.
“Can you keep an eye on them for a couple of minutes?”
Your best friend nodded. “Course’ honey.” Before asking her TA to go next door.
“You okay?”
You tried your best to look okay, despite everything you were feeling inside.
“Yeah. Yeah. I will be.”
As the TA headed next door, you made your way towards the bathroom, then dialled his number.
“Hey,” Jake said as he answered. “Just about to call you. They’ve got a showing of The Wizard of Oz tonight at the theatre, if you wanted to go-”
“Jake.”
“Are you okay? What’s happened? Is everything okay? Is it your brother-”
“Every…” You swallowed thickly before carefully lowering yourself onto the floor with your back against the wall, and unlocking the door. “Everything’s okay, it’s just…”
Jake had a strong feeling he knew what was happening. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”
“School bathroom. Teacher’s.”
“Okay.” You could hear him leaving his office and getting into his car. “Is the door unlocked?”
You didn’t answer.
“Y/n.”
“I’m here.”
Jake breathed. “Y/n, Sweetheart. Is the door unlocked to the bathroom?”
“Yes.”
“Does anyone else know you’re there?”
You explained what happened as best as you could.
“Just, please get here soon?”
“I will, Sweetheart. I promise. I’m almost there.”
You didn’t know how long had passed but it wasn’t long before you heard your name being called out by Jake.
Pulling the door open a little from the floor, Jake ran towards it and peeked inside. There you were, sat with your knees close to your chest, against the wall.
He stepped inside before crouching down.
“I-I’m sorry I called. I just-”
Checking you over, Jake cupped your face. “Hey, no. No. I’m glad you called me. You can always call me. How are you feeling?”
“Dizzy. It’s better now but still like the room is spinning. And I’m not harnessed in.”
“Okay. Do you think you can stand?”
You gave a small nod. “Maybe.”
Helping you up, Jake took your hands in his and you stood up.
“Come on, we’re getting you checked out at the ER.”
You would have fought him on it but considering the last time it happened they kept you in overnight, you went willingly.
Thankfully, you didn’t pass out even when the dizziness and the nausea felt like they were getting worse.
By the time the doctor saw you, she did all of the routine checks before turning and looking at Jake and back to you.
“Is there a possibility you could be pregnant? I’ve seen a lot of couples come in here with similar symptoms and-”
Oh shit.
“Oh, no. I-I’m not. And he’s not-”
“We’re- We’re not together.”
A few more awkward moments like that filled the next couple of hours until both yourself and Jake seemed to give up on correcting people.
By the time they discharged you, they told you your blood sugar levels had dropped and your hormones were beginning to change with your cycle. Along with the advice to try and reduce stress.
Driving you home that night, Jake made a detour. Towards the diner and then towards the beach along The Hard Deck.
It was quiet for a Tuesday evening, but yourself and Jake just sat and ate dinner whilst watching the water push in and pull out constantly across the sand until eventually, laying your head on his shoulder, he placed his arm around your own.
“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”
“Thank you for calling me. Are you feeling any better?”
You nodded, gratefully. “Just a little tired, that's all.”
“I’ll drop you off at home, soon, if you’d like.”
You nodded then looked at him. And before you could stop yourself, you asked him; “Would you stay with me? Tonight? If you can’t- or if you don’t want to-”
“I’ll stay.”
“A-are you…sure?”
Jake nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “I’ll stay with you.”
You didn’t know what else to say other than thank you, so pressing a light kiss to his cheek, you said as much. “Thank you.”
You could have sworn you saw him blush as he smiled and looked down. “Anytime.”
It was odd really, laying beside the man you thought you’d be telling your kids about when you were older. About how much you hated him and how much he hated you, and why neither of you could sit next to each other at the Thanksgiving table every year.
Jake had decided to stay in your guest bedroom, but the minute you heard him lay down in his bed, you felt…awake. Not wide awake. You were still tired. But you weren’t settled. Something inside of you wanted to be closer to him.
So, after an hour of laying on your back, staring at your ceiling and listening to the distant shore line, with the odd rumble of a car’s engine running up and down the road every now and again, you got up.
Jake had left his door open. If you shouted for him, or needed him, he would be able to hear you. Usually, he’d be out like a light, waking up at the smallest of noises. But this time, he couldn’t sleep.
Instead, his mind was going over the fact you had called him when you were at work. And the fact that he enjoyed it when you were with him. That he was the one you chose to lean on. And the fact that he wished he was down the hall with you at that moment, then lay alone in the dark in your guest bedroom.
Then he heard you.
From the dim, moonlit hallway, he saw you.
“Hey, everything-”
“Can I stay with you?”
Already half way up, Jake paused for a second. Then nodded. “‘Course. Come ‘ere.”
Walking over, Jake pulled the covers back and you climbed under them before feeling his arm wrap around you. And your arms came around him, one over his shoulder and round his neck, the other by his side.
Instinctively, he pulled one of your legs across him and held it there whilst his other arm remained securely around your back, holding you to him.
“Is this okay?”
He felt you nod and he nervously swallowed.
“Are you okay, Sweetheart?”
In a quiet voice, your breath against his neck, you answered. “Better now.”
Pressing a kiss to your head, you nuzzled into each other.
“Good.”
Not too long after that, you both fell asleep.
And when you both woke up, neither of you wanted to move.
If this had somehow happened six months ago, you probably would have thrown each other to the other side of the room. But it wasn’t six months ago. And you’d come to know Jake as…Jake. Who took care of his friends, and made sure everyone was okay and was kind and caring and…a lot of other things you didn’t want to think about at six o’clock in the morning.
And the way he was looking at you at that moment made you think about other things that you didn’t want to think about.
“What are you thinking about?” Jake asked after a few moments of watching you study him.
“That you need to stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you…like me.”
Jake smiled. “I do like you, Sweetheart.”
“Jake.”
Then, for a moment, everything felt…serious. His tired smile dropped a little from his lips as he looked at you.
“Do you trust me?”
You felt your heartbeat pick up in your chest and for a moment, you wondered if he could hear it.
“Yes.”
Tucking your hair behind your ear, you felt him cup your cheek. “Y/n…”
He seemed nervous.
“Can I kiss you?”
If you had let yourself think about it long enough, you never would have guessed Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, who went after whatever, and usually whoever he wanted, would ask if he could kiss. You’d always assumed that he was so confident in life and with women that he’d know. That he’d see the small signals. Or even the loud ones. And just…kiss a girl.
But no.
He asked.
And something in your gut jumped.
So you answered; “Yes.”
Nervously, he licked his lips before he leaned in. And kissing him felt…weird. Because it felt…normal. Unlike anything else you’d felt in your life.
You managed to pull him closer, until he was leaning above you. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.”
From there, the softer, searching kisses slowly faded away and turned into something more. More wanting, more needing. Feeling his hands move down your body before he gripped your hips, and pulled you closer to him and carefully slid them back up until the fabric of your t-shirt began to bunch together.
Feeling him press into your thigh, you let out a small noise that was only swallowed by his kiss. Swiftly, he pulled you across him, your legs straddling his lap before he sat up. Once more, he pushed the hair from your face and took you in, in the rising daylight.
No words were spoken out loud, but everything was said.
Leaning down, you kissed him again before letting your own hands move down his chest and towards the hem of his t-shirt. Except, just as he pulled you closer by your waist, his hips rocking into you, you both jolted at the sound of his alarm.
“Sorry.” Jake quickly turned and switched it off. You were both going to be late for work.
“If we don’t get ready now, we’re gonna be late.”
Looking at him, you didn’t know fully what to say. It had just been the hottest make out session of your life, with a guy six months ago people would have bet money on you killing. And you’d both been cock-blocked by his alarm.
“I’ll meet you here, after work?”
That made you smile. “Okay.”
Then he did, too. “Okay.” Before throwing his phone to the side and pulling you down to kiss him. But as you pulled away, he groaned, trying to pull you back to continue but you walked a good three feet away from the bed.
“Can’t be late, Hangman. You’ve got pilots to teach.”
With a coy smile, he was standing in front of you within seconds before lifting you onto the dresser behind you. This time, it was you trying to pull him back when he stopped kissing you. But he just stood back and let out a small chuckle.
“We’ve both got students to teach, Sweetheart. We stay here any longer, they’re both gonna miss us.”
One final kiss to your lips, he stood back and practically ran away before you could grab hold of him.
Twenty minutes later, he was showered and dressed for the day and had poured you a coffee to-go as well as packed you another smoothie and grabbed your lunch for you before you’d come downstairs, dressed and began loading the last of the exam papers into your bags.
He dropped you back off at work, however, when you realised he was waiting in the parking lot for you to enter, you left your bags by the pillar and walked back. With his window already being down, you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his hand cup the back of your head.
“See you tonight?”
“See you tonight.”
The day for either of you couldn’t have felt longer. And by the time Jake came walking through your back door, dropping his bag onto one of the pantry hooks, he couldn’t have been more relieved to see you.
And for a moment, he just watched you as you sat on the sofa with crossed legs, flipping through a textbook and making notes. Softly, he approached you from behind before wrapping his arms around your shoulders.
You smiled.
“Hey, Sweetheart.”
“You’re back.”
You felt him relax against you. “Finally.”
“There’s some food. I made you a plate in the oven.”
He pressed a kiss to your head before walking towards the kitchen. “I would have cooked.”
“I know, but I needed the distraction.”
Waltzing back inside holding onto the warm plate, he smirked as he popped a fork-full of veg into his mouth. You could already feel your cheeks heating and from the look on his face, he could see it clear as day.
“Distraction from what?”
“Nothing in particular.”
“Nothing, huh?”
At some point, he put down his plate and rounded back to the sofa, standing behind you before pressing soft kisses into the side of your neck.
“Jake.”
The way you said his name went straight to his dick.
As he moved your hair, you leaned to grant him more access. A satisfied smirk came to his lips as he watched your legs move to straighten out.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Sweetheart.”
Eventually, you felt Jake move away but he appeared again, lowering himself in front of you. Taking the textbooks and notes from you and placing them on the coffee table behind him, he leaned forward and pulled you in to kiss him.
“Have you been thinking about me?”
Feeling his hand move up your thigh and towards your shorts, you leaned in closer. “Have you, Sweetheart?”
“Yes,” your voice came out breathy.
“Is this okay?”
You nodded.
“I need words, darlin’.”
“Yes. Yes, it’s okay.”
As time passed, the small part of you that was still able to function started to ask questions. Like why you had hated him so much in the first place? And how you almost missed…him.
And by the time you woke up in the morning, Jake practically wrapped around you like a boa constrictor, you had come to a new conclusion.
You didn’t hate him anymore.
You hadn’t hated him for a long time.
All opinions you had of him, especially after a night of mindblowing sex, had been shot out of the water.
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was no longer the man you thought he was. The man you had come to know and lo-
The man you had come to know was a man that showed up. And stayed. He was someone that took care of the people he cared about. He was someone that would fix things in your home without you asking. He was someone that cooked meals, even if it was almost one o’clock in the morning and you were craving a grilled cheese. He was someone that, even after sex, took care of you in a way nobody had ever even thought about doing before. He was someone that you could trust and respect, and did so.
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was a man that had proved your theories wrong and he was a man that you realised you were falling for.
And in some ways, that scared you. And in some ways, it didn’t.
Because, for as much as he could be so sure of himself. So bold. So confident, it bordered on cocky. You were also sure of him. Sure that, if he was feeling the same things you felt, that he wouldn’t let you hurt yourself when you fell, but rather he’d catch you.
And it, surprisingly, didn’t take him very long.
By the time you woke up in the morning and headed downstairs, freshly dressed in a worn Top Gun hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts, you started making breakfast. However, as you stood at the stove, flipping the bacon, you felt a newly familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.
Dropping his chin to your shoulder, Jake pulled you close to his chest.
“Good morning.”
“Morning’.” He drawled. “Whatcha’ cookin’?”
“Bacon and eggs. There’s also toast in the toaster.”
With a smile, Jake pressed a kiss to your exposed collar which caused you to let out a small giggle before quickly turning the stove off.
“You’ve gotta be careful, Hangman. You’ll make me burn breakfast.”
He hummed a response. “I had a couple other meals in mind.”
“Oh really? Like what?”
With his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck where you suspected he’d just left another hickey, he slowly turned you around. “I can think of one.”
Finally facing him, he kissed you as you fumbled with the last temperature gauge and turned it off. Picking you up, he carried you away from the counter near the stove to the one complete opposite.
“You’re driving me insane dressed like this.” He mumbled against your kiss. “Wearing my shirt.”
“Your shirt?” You asked as his lips moved to your neck.
Looking at you for a moment, half drunk on your kiss, he nodded. “Didn’t you know, Sweetheart? This here is mine.” Pinching some of the fabric between his fingers he shook it as he told you so.
You laughed. “No it’s not.”
He nodded. “God's honest truth. Your brother stayed at mine one night after he’d gone out drinking. Lost his shirt, don’t ask me how. Stole one of my hoodies. Never got it back.”
“How do you know this is yours?”
With a smile, Jake showed you the small hole that you’d made a little bigger over the years from when you’d get nervous. “This right here. Loose thread got caught in a cabinet I was fixing in my room. Pulled at it too hard. And…”
Jake watched as your expression changed a little, hungry for more of his touches, as he pushed his hand slowly up the inside of your- his hoodie.
A slight smirk, he pulled at the side tag and showed you. And it baffled you how you’d never noticed before.
J.H.S
“See. But, I have to say, Sweetheart. It looks better on you than it ever did me.”
And as he was looking at you, he asked you something else. “Let me take you out on a date. A real one. You know, seeing you like this…I never want to see anyone else like this but you.”
“Jake…”
“I’m being serious. Sweetheart, I want you. And not just temporarily.” Then he looked away as he said the next part. “I’d get it…if you didn’t want that. God knows you and I don’t have the best history when it comes to even getting along but-”
“I want to date you.”
He looked up at you.
“I want to date you,” you repeated. “Believe me, half of the time I don’t get it myself. How we’ve gone from one extreme to the other, but I know…I know I want you around.”
“I want you around, too.”
“So, yes.”
Jake smiled. “Yes?”
You smiled back. “Yes. Take me out on a date, Jake Seresin.”
Leaning forwards, he kissed you. And before long, your hands started to feel for the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head.
It was safe to say, when you and Jake walked into The Hard Deck in the evening after your official first date, hand in hand before he pressed a kiss to your lips, a lot of people were shocked.
And lost a lot of money.
But Penny won it all.
She knew the minute Jake saw you, and your brother scolded him, that something would happen. After all, Hangman was known for going after what he wanted. She just never expected to have to be the one to force you to be in the same room and for that room to be a hospital.
#jake seresin x you#hangman x you#hangman#top gun hangman#top gun maverick#tgm#jake 'hangman' seresin#fluff#enemies to lovers#x reader#x fe!reader#angst#he takes care of her#steamy moments#brother's best friend#jake seresin x reader#hangman x reader#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman x you#falling in love#kissing#jake hangman fic#jake hangman imagine
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abby anderson request !! :)
i wanted something where abby is starting to doubt her sexuality and trusts reader to ask questions and just talk about it (reader is a lesbian and they're close friends, it can end up with them kissing — or more, if you're comfortable)
cw: sfw, kissing (a lot of it), descriptions of masturbation (abby), talk of sexuality and questioning sexuality, no physical description of reader
Daily click - Palestine masterpost - TLOU and israel
a/n: thank you for the req !! I don’t write full on smut unfortunately (though I might write some short stuff in the future), but I tried to write a few kinda sexual scenes here and there
wc: idk prob like 1k
divider creds
Abby loved Owen, truly. She was attracted to him: that is what she kept convincing herself of everyday.
Every moment with Owen was a new lie she fed herself.
He was the man she loved. There was nothing she doubted in her relationship with him. The absence of love’s warmth meant to fill her body was her own fault; her inability to reach climax when they had sex was a problem for which only she was to blame.
It doesn’t mean she never tried, though. Abby had spent nights attempting to pleasure herself to the thought of Owen: the only person she should be thinking of; the only person supposed to be capable of reaching her to her climax.
And yet, all she felt was nothing. She laid in her bed, carnal and romantical dissatisfaction utterly consuming her. She was convinced that she was simply incapable of experiencing any sort of attraction exceeding platonicity.
But it only grew more confusing from there.
In another one of her inevitably futile attempts of bringing herself to climax to the thought of Owen, she felt her mind begin to drift to another thought that would hopefully bring her to that much desired release.
She didn’t intend for it to, but the man was just not doing it for her.
That night, she thought of a woman.
That night, she came so hard she swore she could see stars.
A specific woman she thought of in particular, but she would never admit who it was that finally relieved that ache. Not even in the confines of her own thoughts.
And so here she found herself, seated on the soft cushion of your worn-out couch.
You were Abby’s sole friend who was openly lesbian. Abby had seen you bring women over numerous times before. She had listened to your rants about your sexual and romantic encounters with women.
She even helped set you up with one, which harbored a slight odd feeling in the pit of her stomach for a reason she couldn’t quite decipher.
She had thought of it many times: what it was like being with a woman. She didn’t really know what to make of those thoughts. Whether it was mere curiosity, or perhaps something more.
And now here she sat next to you, trying to find the confidence to speak.
She never found it hard to confide in you. Of course not, you were her dearest friend. But this dilemma of hers was difficult to merely utter aloud, even if it is only to herself.
You were on your phone when Abby spoke.
“So… you’re gay,” she started, and she wanted to strike herself as soon as the words left her mouth, because of course you were gay. What kind of opening is that?
“Good observation?” You chuckled, bemused. You placed your phone down, curious as to where she was going with this.
“What’s it like? You know, being with a woman,” she asked, already regretting bringing it up, but she just needed some certainty.
Your eyebrows twisted in confusion at the inquiry. You and Abby were comfortable enough to share anything with each other. Nothing was considered too much information or too uncomfortable to talk about.
It was just an odd question coming from Abby, who you thought was so sure of her sexuality.
“I guess it’s like how it feels for you being with a man.”
God, she hoped not.
“Why?” You asked.
“Just curious, that’s all. Wanna understand your sexuality more, educate myself,” she spoke rather timidly.
You laughed softly. “Oh, because you’re so woke, right?”
Abby could tell you didn’t believe her. In all fairness, she didn’t really put much effort into trying to sound the least bit credible.
She didn’t even know why she was lying to you right now. She trusted you, she always has. This was just a difficult truth to face.
“I don’t know. I’m just feeling a little confused, I guess,” she confessed, shrugging.
“About your sexuality?” Your voice was slow, but your heart beat quicker than ever before.
You would be lying if you said you didn’t find Abby attractive. You’ve always had a little childish crush on the blonde, but you constantly found yourself trying to shove your feelings aside, somewhere far away so it could no longer reach to gnaw at your heart.
But now this — this made it all different. You might be getting slightly ahead of yourself, but you can’t help but think that now you might have the smallest chance with her.
“I don’t know— I mean, yeah, I guess,” she said as she fiddled with the seams of her shirt. “Owen’s just never really made me feel�� well, anything. Anything you’re supposed to feel with a partner, I don’t feel it. I thought maybe the problem was Owen specifically, but I’ve come to realize that it’s not.”
“But women get you going?”
“I think so,” she admitted, finally. “I tried to think about a woman last night, while, you know…” she trailed off, her skin suddenly feeling very hot at the confession.
“And?” You whispered, feeling just as hot at her confession. “Was it just what you were missing?”
Abby went quiet for a moment, then she answered. “Yeah, it was.”
It was silent. Abby still looked like she had something to say, so you offered no response for a moment.
“But how could I know? I’ve never tried anything romantic or sexual with another woman, so how would I be able to tell? I could just be confused,” she said.
You were quiet, contemplating your next words. What you were about to do could either ruin your friendship, or elevate it to something more. You were relying on the latter.
“You wanna try?” You asked. Your voice sounded bold, but everything within you was shaking with apprehension.
She offered naught but an incredulous look. Her eyes were blown wide, disbelieving.
“What?”
Well, shit.
“I mean, solely for experimental purposes, of course. A kiss shared with another woman, just to be certain,” you explained.
The tension was thick, almost palpable. You were nervous at Abby’s silence and you realized that this is where your boldness gets you.
You were ready for her harsh rejection and the revulsion that would surely be evident in her voice, but then she spoke.
“Okay,” she said. Not a hint of revulsion in her tone. You didn’t know it, but her heart beat just as quick as yours.
“Really?” You asked, surprised as if you hadn’t been the one to offer.
“Well, yeah,” she leaned in slightly, bringing her face closer to yours. “Just for experimental purposes, right?”
“Yeah, sure,” you breathed. You brought your face to hers, and in a split second you closed the gap between you, meeting each other in a slow kiss, your eyes fluttering shut.
Her lips were soft. Her kiss felt nervous, lacking confidence, yet it still exceeded every expectation.
You pulled away once you felt it was enough. You looked at her and waited for what she had to say.
“Oh yeah, I’m definitely gay,” she said and pushed your face right back into hers, meeting your lips in a much more heated kiss.
This kiss, however, held the confidence the previous one lacked, her lips moving skillfully against yours. You waited for the shock to wear off before kissing her back, clearly not expecting her to want more.
You disconnected your lips once again, pulling her face away from yours. “Abby—”
“Just need-” she interrupted her own words to press another swift peck to your lips. “A little more-” another kiss. “Just to make sure,” she said, finally and pulled you in for another kiss. She cupped your burning cheeks with her palms and slipped her tongue into your mouth.
What was supposed to be an innocent kiss, solely for the sake of experiment (how the thought made you laugh now), turned into her exploring your mouth with her tongue and pushing her body against yours. This kiss held no place for innocence now.
She softly moaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating throughout your body.
She used her thumb to lightly caress your cheek as she kissed you like her life depended on it. She slightly pulled apart then, nibbling on your bottom lip with her teeth.
As the kiss came to an end, you sat staring at each other, breathless, and oh so blissful.
“You wanna know something?” Abby asked with a dumb smile on her face which brought another smile upon your own. You hummed.
“It was you,” she started, still faintly breathless. “You were who I thought of.”
Your eyebrows rose at the confession. It was unexpected, but certainly not disliked.
What you were more surprised at, though, was how casually she said it, seemingly too blissed out at the moment for any feeling of embarrassment.
“You telling me I was your gay awakening?” You asked, grinning.
“You could say that.” She shrugged and scratched at the back of her neck.
You laughed and scooted closer to her. “Well, I guess I’m honored then,” you said.
“Alright,” she rolled her eyes and laughed. She leaned in then, craving more of your taste.
You giggled into the kiss and pulled away, licking your lips to savor her intoxicating taste.
“I think we’ve already come to the conclusion that you’re gay. You still want more?”
She brought her face closer again and caressed your cheeks. She was close enough that you could feel her breath against your lips.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Now shut up and let me kiss you.”
#tlou#the last of us#abby anderson#the last of us part two#tlou2#abby anderson the last of us#abby anderson tlou#abby anderson tlou2#abby x reader#abby anderson x reader#abby x fem!reader#abby x fem reader#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby x you#abby x y/n#abby anderson x you#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x y/n#tlou hbo#tlou part 2#tlou game#abby anderson smut#abby anderson fluff
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MR. CRAWLING YANDERE HEADCANONS !
CW 𓂃 gn!reader, gaslighting, canon-typical violence
AN 𓂃 ik i said i'd have HCs for all of them but this ended up being too long so... 🧍♀️ also unedited bc i have an exam later ill be back to edit this later pls
Mr. Crawling is the protective type. He spends half of the entire game following you wherever you go and going through great lengths to protect you from the other residents of these cursed apartments. However, I can see how that protectiveness can get twisted in the long run when you remain completely helpless and unable to defend yourself. Mr. Crawling would have no choice but to step in and make decisions for you instead because he cannot afford to lose you just like that.
Out of all the homicipher men, mr. Crawling is the one who has the most respect for your choices and boundaries. He leaves when you tell him to, patiently guides you throughout this maze, and comforts you when you are upset— and he's never violent unless threatened.
Such a sweet and gentle guy would never hurt you intentionally. He loves you too much to hurt you.
That being said, though he'll never intentionally hurt you, he doesn't realize it whenever he's being possessive and suffocating you instead. After all, having wandered these halls for so long has desensitized him to violence and made him forget all his human memories. Simply put, his concept of love is warped in its own way. He doesn't understand nor remember how to healthily love another person by societal standards, but he (usually) means well.
He may not understand love but he knows one thing for sure— you're very precious to him. You're so full of life, so kind (to him), and so persistent to find your way home despite everything. Everyone else just kind of does their own thing around there... but you need him. You give him purpose and he's ready to give himself up for you in return.
But as much as he respects you, he knows you sometimes don't know any better. You almost got yourself killed multiple times despite his numerous warnings, and he's not confident you completely understand him just yet. So whenever he feels as though something got lost in translation, he won't hesitate to push you aside or cover for you in that instance. Thankfully, you can now regenerate your limbs.
You don't know any better. This sentiment becomes a mantra that repeats itself in his head over and over again. The two of you haven't made any significant progress on finding an exit, but you've almost died more than a dozen times by now. How are you supposed to survive without him?
What even is your home like? How can he be sure that you aren't going to get yourself killed over there too? Can he follow you there too to protect you? Can't you just stay here with him instead? Would that be so terrible? Of course he wants you to find whatever you're looking for...! it's just that...
The thought of losing you only intensifies his anxiety and over-protectiveness. Whether by departure or death, he cannot stand to be apart from you. Why are you so eager to leave this place anyway?
Mr. Crawling is gentle, but love can force him to be violent. He's not as cruel as the rest, but it doesn't mean he won't be when you're put in danger, especially when his possessiveness and overprotectiveness spiral out of control. He doesn't want to restrict you in any way because he loves and respects you too much to do that, but you just keep getting yourself in trouble. He overcompensates and goes overboard instead trying to protect you, even if it means killing someone.
And the thought of you moving on and forgetting him depresses him. He knows you had a life before this, but he wants a life with you in it. He'll be selfish just this once, but never again. He'll make sure you're safe here you so don't worry about that! Just don't leave him. Just stay with him, please.
It starts little by little. He starts telling you to rest more often and misleading you farther away from the elevator. Sometimes, when you tell him to leave you alone, he pretends not to understand you anymore. When he sees that dreaded green light from a distance, he tells you there is something malicious up ahead. In times like these, he's glad you're so blindly trusting of every word he says. It's difficult for him to watch your resolve break down, but it's for the best. When you're with him, you're safe and that all that's matters.
I can see some of the others like Ms. Bride and Mr. Silvair being in on it. Ms. Bride is very excited that her wedding garments will be used for their actual purpose this time whereas Mr. Silvair finds your unconventional relationship an interesting area of study. Whenever you find yourself 'lost' (escape from Mr. Crawling), they will redirect you back to him.
Eventually, you do give up. Maybe you even become more monstrous by the day and accept that you're better off here. He loved your persistence, but maybe he can show you giving up and that staying here isn't so bad. After all, you have him. He makes sure to be extra affectionate and cuddly after you give up <3
You'll learn to accept it, won't you? For him? Whatever's beyond those elevator doors can't possibly be better than being loved unconditionally and safe within his arms. You're even free to be yourself down here! You can be as violent as you want, and Mr. Crawling will happily watch you bludgeon someone to death on the sidelines with nothing but adoration.
Alternatively, if you do find your way home, he WILL follow you whether you like it or not. But if you don't want him there... well, do expect a few inconveniences. Whatever it takes to convince you to let him stay or to convince you to come back, really. Maybe like blood on the walls spelling 'me love you' and 'me miss you' or a cold pair of arms wrapping around your waist at night.
#homicipher#homicipher x reader#yandere x reader#mr. crawling x reader#yandere!mr. crawling#do expect a future drabble on the last bit
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Will-o'-the-wisp
Title: Will-o'-the-wisp
Fandom: Hunter x Hunter
Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader (female)
Summary: Reader encouters fae!Chrollo and breaks some rules along the way.
Word count: 1700+
Notes: yandere!Chrollo, fae!Chrollo, abduction, manipulation, AU, modern setting with fae, Chrollo is charming af and a bit creepy as usual, Reader is doomed long before they know it and slightly depressed
You walk home the same way every day, like many people do. There's comfort in routines. Comfort and security which you crave. The familiar routes, the repetitive programs on TV and the books you've read a million times. You like to know what happens next and hate surprises.
The fourteen-year-old you wouldn't approve.
Maybe even express a little pity, because she always thought you two were destined for an adventure, like in fantasy books you used to devour one after another. Every free second was spent reading or dreaming, but life went on and adventures didn't happen. The girl grew older, a lot more careful and a lot less hopeful.
When you finish work, it's usually around six. Your adult self is practical and prefers to save money on the bus, besides, every other time you take it, you end up having to stand, squeezed between people. It's not worth the frustration; a fifteen minute walk isn't that long and the crime rate in the area is low.
There's a small grove nearby that nobody has bothered to turn into a park. The residents made their own paths in time, put a few signs so the joggers wouldn't get lost, but that's it. Once or twice a month you stroll through there, picking up trash left on the side. People make you want to move to the woods altogether sometimes.
That's how the day starts or ends — with crossing a bridge which connects the grove to your neighbourhood.
And this is where you see him for the first time.
The man looks so out of place among the rustic wooden railings and rushing water below. Nobody wears this kind of clothes here. Expensive and elegant, something that blends well in a big city. They don't stare at passersby like he does either. You hate when people do that ─ block already narrow spaces by just stopping midway. Or groups who spread across the entire sidewalk.
"Excuse me," you say politely. Polite is good. Polite can be used as a shield and always makes you look better than you are. "I need to pass."
He smiles, then moves aside. "Of course."
His face is exactly what you imagine when thinking of pleasant: beautiful grey eyes with long lashes, pointed chin and a strange mix of delicate and sharp edges.
"Thank you."
The smile widens. "You're welcome."
---
It's time to accept that you've grown into an average person with a simple desire to live in comfort. Dreaming isn't your strength anymore, the last book you picked up was several years ago. Movies bore you fifteen minutes in, even if everybody else praises them; the idea of a relationship seems exhausting.
You do enjoy gardening.
Growing tomatoes is a far cry from distant fictional lands, but they taste nice with a pinch of salt.
The condo you live in doesn't have enough space and light, so you chose a small patch of ground in the grove to start a garden. A few tomato plants and some herbs like chives and basil. It might be illegal, yet nobody has come to yell at you. Most people don't pay attention to what's happening here, as long as you don't damage the trees or leave trash.
You water and prune, weed, add fertilizer if needed. There're some flowers too; mother told you that marigolds scare pests away from veggies and keep the soil healthy. They're pretty, little orange spots.
---
You find a crystal at you patch. Azure would be too bland to describe its color ─ maybe more like a mix of cerulean and moon stone. It's round in shape, polished so nicely that the outlines of your face are reflected in the surface. Did a magpie bring it? Or a kid? The thought of someone poking around your garden makes you frown. You hope they didn't step on your basil.
The stone is heavy and cool. You turn it around, entranced, before stuffing it into the pocket of your jeans. Maybe you can ask the neighbours' kids about it later.
"Would you look at that," you mutter and bend to inspect a tomato plant. Two green fruit, each no bigger than your knuckle, hang there, sprouted over the weekend. "Hello, my pretties."
---
You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. It's past 1 AM, you should sleep; instead, you keep twisting the stone in the moonlight.
You asked kids from around here, but nobody claimed it.
Maybe it's a lucky charm, you've had a wonderful day. Got a call from your cousin in the morning, she has't contacted you in a long while and it was nice to catch up. After lunch, the resource manager praised your work, then an elderly lady from the store complimented your cardigan.
At a certain angle, the stone seems almost glowing. A summer night sky condensed into a tiny orb. Your fingers trace its smooth surface without much thought until eventually it drops onto the pillow by your side.
You don't notice when exactly you fall asleep.
It's the strangest dream you've ever seen.
Gone is the condo building with its stuffy kitchenette and old pipes that constantly rumble. Instead, you feel damp grass underneath your feet. Wind brushes through the hem of your nightdress, carrying the scents of rain and moss. So many shades of black and raven blue swirl together that you barely recognize a signpost nearby. It's the grove, but you've never seen it like this, as dark as it can be only at night.
It's uncomfortable to stand barefoot, with a chill creeping up your legs.
After a while your fingers touch the rough bark of a nearby tree to get a sense of direction, and you start walking, because there isn't anything else to do.
There's the bridge, you think. If you just get to the bridge, the rest will be simple.
You're walking there, or that's what you think when a small ball of light appears right before your nose.
Fireflies don't glow blue. It doesn't falter, doesn't flicker, coming up closer then farther like a pendulum. There's something uncanny and fragile about it. For a second you forget everything and stand mesmerized, until it starts moving.
Through the trees, past the branches, onwards.
It's more instinctual than anything ─ you don't want to be left here alone again, so you follow. Light is good, darkness isn't. The ground becomes more uneven as you go, the grass changes to moss, but you can barely register anything at this point apart from that lonely glow. It halts at times as if making sure you're keeping up.
Is that a clearing ahead? Your eyes hurt from trying to focus.
The blue dot continues to float, never speeding up, never falling behind.
Then it disappears.
No. Not disappears ─ settles on the tip of a pale finger.
There's your tomato patch, your plants, the empty box that you forgot to take back to the condo.
But it's impossible.
Your garden should be not very far from the border, yet it feels like you've walked through half of the grove by now.
Why is he here?
"It took you a while," he says, the stranger from the bridge whose eyes made you pause before you caught yourself. "I was waiting, my dear."
Maybe you shouldn't ask. Maybe the wisest thing would be to turn around and run. You step back and trip on a root which somehow snuck between the moss. He catches your hand before you fall and doesn't let go. Instead his thumb caresses your skin in leisurely strokes.
There's a faint scent of lilies coming from him, and something else. Something heavy, equally sweet that lingers on the edge of cloying and enticing.
Smells aren't supposed to be so strong in dreams.
"I need to go."
"Where?"
This simple question asked in an equally plain tone makes you falter. What does he mean 'where'?
"Home," you say softly and try to free your hand again without success. The man leans in close enough that you can see his face, illuminated by that blue light.
"And where is home?"
"I-" you swallow. "I have to go."
He releases you with surprising ease; you don't waste any time rushing towards the path. The long walk has exhausted you, and the lack of light makes it difficult to tell which turns to take. You stumble multiple times. The hem of your nightdress catches a few twigs. You sprint past the trees, past the low bushes along the familiar trail, and it's there, suddenly in front of you: the wooden bridge.
Out of breath, you grab the railing. And then open your eyes on the same side where you started.
How?
Again and again, you dash across it, yet every time there's a single step left to cross over the stream, the view shifts. Your feet land at the beginning of the bridge. On the ninth time when it's impossible to run any longer, you press your forehead to the railing. Every breath feels short and raspy.
"That's enough, dear."
"What is this?" You grip the planks with trembling hands. "I don't understand. Why can't I-"
A coat falls over your shoulders; you clutch at it mindlessly, because it's warm and you're shaking all over.
"You thanked me. Claimed my land, charmingly audacious of you. Such care and love, right under my nose."
There's no malice in his voice. Gently, finger by finger, he uncurls the tight grip of your hand. The stone is there, cerulean blue like summer sky condensed into a tiny orb.
"Took my gift and kept it close to your heart."
It takes some effort but eventually you manage to speak. "I didn't," you whisper urgently, despite the shiny proof in your palm. "I didn't know! Take it back."
"I'm afraid it's too late for that."
"I didn't know!"
He lifts you in his arms when your knees give out and you sink to the ground, still gripping that damned stone. His coat carries the same distinct scent of lilies and heavy sweetness. The sceneries you dreamed of when younger pop in your head, like old postcards covered with dust, of mystical beings hidden from human eye, fantastical places no one has seen, grand adventures where heroes defy impossible odds and come out victorious.
Those were tales for the brave and imaginative. You're neither.
"It doesn't matter. The land claims you," he says. "And so do I."
#shalott fanfiction#yandere#hunter x hunter#hunter x hunter fanfic#yandere chrollo#yandere chrollo lucilfer#yandere chrollo x reader
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The Healer
masterlist
viktor x anhedonic!reader [1.4k][AO3]
cw: implied/referenced depression, suicide, suicidal ideation, self harm
summary: Anhedonia set in and the idea of exiting life's stage became all the more appealing. But you've heard about The Healer and perhaps he can save you.
tags: gn reader, S2 Viktor, post-Act 1, anhedonia, angst, depression, suicide, SI, SH, viktor gardening?, reader's just admiring him atp, not betad, not encouraging anybody to join any cult
a/n: idk if vik's abilities extends to making plants appear but for this pretend it does
if you're unfamiliar with what anhedonia is, it's a symptom of a larger condition (can be depression, bipolar, schizophrenia, more), characterised by the inability to experience physical and/or social pleasure. makes existing difficult, like you're dragging so much pointless weight and everything feels high effort, so what's the point.
just a brief description (based on what i've learnt from it in research and experience), so i encourage learning more to get it more in depth if it interests you or sounds too familiar.
You prayed for an easy coax out of the darkness.
The little home of scrap fabric and heartbroken brick you built throughout the years was becoming more and more dilapidated, though its original state had never been of full health to begin with. And like it, your body’s ridges became prominent, visited by unexplained bruises, warmed by the thickened hair on your skin, and yet living on had always been the only option you saw—no, the only option you allowed.
You’d breathed long enough to outlive many of those around you. Whether it was becoming grey-lunged corpses, enforcer punching bags, or a Promenade diver, everybody knew somebody who, sooner rather than later, knelt to kiss Death’s feet. Surrendered. Be it by their own or another’s will.
Then it fell upon you: the swole blanket of indifference, of apathy. It cloaked your mind, buried your defences that was defiance, which had been the only source of survival you’d had left. But snuffed out now.
And how easy it is to think of self-inflicted inexistence when it seems nothing else matters.
Oblivion would whisper in the corner, a demented, deformed dog snarling yet begging your hand’s comfort. Come to me. And you can’t find good reason as to why you shouldn’t.
This… healer—a man whose touch could gild any man’s sick and bestow him a new life, a new body, a new mind—you’re not sure when he arrived. But the whispers morphed to murmurs which morphed to rumours and unfolded itself into your side of the city’s underbelly.
Was he the answer to your prayer?
You made journey to the place you’d heard he’d made camp, and it unfurled before you and stole all expectation and put them to rest. Because for once, the Sumps had colour, had life.
At the centre stood a strange, globular… building? Just like stained glass, its surface was of mute Spring colours, translucent, swirling lattice-work reminiscent of butterfly wing patterns.
He’s a tall thing. A beautiful thing. His metal body cloaked, careful, and coded with grace. Each movement was deliberate, no gaze shared unintentional. How had he come to exist? How had this world birthed your people’s suffering but, as well, him?
You want to laugh at the sick irony. Whoever’s dealing the cards need their hands cut off.
“What ails you?” he asks, giving you such soft regarding you can’t help but be rendered speechless.
In truth, you’re not sure. Physically, you know you’re lacking, but so was everyone so why are you different? In your head there sits a temptress, attempting to lure you to the edge of buildings or blades, but she had no name. No one speaks of her.
The healer tilts his head, seeming to take a better look at you. He looks so kind. Such eyes, opalescent, have seen suffering, and you know it.
“Life,” you give a one-shouldered shrug, smiling. “I… I’m not actually… uh, I don’t know what I’m doing here,” you take a step back.
What had been the point of this? Attempt what? Healing? What’s this man to do?
“No,” he steps closer, his voice swathed in a strange mechanical whir. “Stay,”
You’re sure that by the furrowed desperation on you, it convinces something inside him, as he turns and beckons you with a nudge of his head. So you follow.
Each step he makes creates a heavy thunk beneath him, and though you don’t feel its impact, merely by sound you feel the weight of him. How had he acquired such a body? Modded fingers, let alone limbs, cost years of your wages—you can’t imagine how much his entire body might have cost.
“I can feel something plaguing you,” he begins, shifting slightly to catch a look of you.
You scoff but it doesn’t quite match your face.
“Then what brought you to me?” he shrugs and looks away, leading you to the side of the Sumps where a clear plain rolled out.
You watch as he kneels and reaches for the soil, taking it between metal fingers.
“I’m not sure,” you kneel beside him, shoulders bunching up. “What are you doing?”
He hums, smoothing the ground and creating indents, “I’m assessing,”
You lean forward, folding your arms and hanging your head to look at him.
The metal frames his face, just barely hidden by chestnut waves, curling beneath the jaw and around the ear.
He’s got a rather angular beauty to him, something belonging to scrutiny and studiosity. Even his strong brows follow theme, arched forward in a focused furrow, over narrowed eyes homing iridescent irises. You’re not sure if he’s from this world. Or if the world was gifted him.
Your attention trails back to his hand, and he digs his fingers beneath the soil. Then, hand glowing beneath the metallic muscles, the ground is imbued with a light, where then verdant stems spring alive.
You choke back a gasp, glancing about as the spindly bodies uncurl and reveal yellow petals. Roses?
Whipping back to him, you take note of the glow leaving his eyes, shock threading through your system.
When you glance back at the flowers, now surrounding the both of you, you can’t help but think: logically, how you might have reacted would be with pleasant surprise, glee, even.
Such occurrences, the arcane or a mere flower field, was a coveted sight, and without a doubt you would have felt the surge of optimism. But instead nothing happens. Instead it’s unmet anticipation and expectation sitting at your belly, pooling into grey disappointment.
It’s when you look back to the healer that you realise this disappointment must have shown on your face. He inclines his head so slightly, blinks, as if saying I understand. And he smiles. He smiles and it’s the gentlest thing ever given to you to hold and witness.
You want to crumple, to lay graves for your limbs and disassemble each part that ever dared to exist only to suffer. There used to be anger, and at the very least there was indignation. At topside for their neglect, your parents or finding each other, for finding something beyond the misery and creating you. Where had all such righteous resentment gone?
“Viktor,”
You look up to see the healer’s hand stretched out, asking for yours in return. And you oblige, shaking it gently, before pulling away only to be held with soft restraint.
“You are welcome to stay,” his voice becomes tender, becomes more human almost, aimed purely for your audience. “Even if what torments is not outright seen. I welcome all,”
Your breath comes out long, carrying with it the tired days in the dark. The healer… Viktor makes no acknowledgement of this but just another observant blink, the corners of his mouth slightly tightening.
“Wasn’t gonna die or anything,” you joke, flattening your lips and hoping it registers as a smile, however trying it may appear.
“Eh,” Viktor shrugs, turning his attention to your hand and turning it about as if trying to see new angles. “A slow death is still a death,”
This makes you frown. Why has he assumed? But why is he right?
“The slower it is, the more painful, I think,” he remarks, but he seems almost far away. “As you watch what is left of you wither, and all you can do is… hm, watch,”
Then you understand. Something in your chest tightens as you take in once again all this stranger is. “You’re well-acquainted,” you note, coming out barely as breath and observation, spoken clearer by the narrowing of your eyes than your own voice.
He looks at you again, and something’s changed. His eyes? It seems. There’s something more amber about them, more grounded in this singular hue. “My longest companion,”
You hum, nodding.
There’s a safety in knowing you’re understood, even if they’re not able to fix you. It cloaks you warmer than summer, than any consolation offered in pity—he understands. And perhaps not the very same that brandishes you, but in some aspect he knows.
Which is what makes you ask, “Can you fix me?”
His eyes resume that pearl sheen once again and you’re mesmerised, gaze flitting between each eye in deep investigation—tell me who you are, how you are; tell me how you’ll fix me. Like the field around, the sweet sunshine hues of the roses, to make your land more than just barren.
And he does. He raises his other hand, uncurling, coming to hover by your face. “May I?”
You breath sweeps back in and you nod, leaning forward and connecting his cold fingers to your cheek.
He notes you for a moment, saying nothing, doing nothing. It’s his gaze that makes you feel naked, removed of any pretence crafted carefully. But he shifts his attention and his fingers connected with your forehead, eyes overtaken by a white glow.
Your vision drowns in the white.
a/n anhedonia's been hitting me and this is the only thing i could muster to make so here we gooo. not my favourite, feel like i could've done it better but oh well, least i made something wahooyaaa writing is coping after all 🫵🏼😃🗣️
requests + taglist open!
[this is a reupload, i have no idea why the original post disappeared :''')]
#arcane#arcane spoilers#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane viktor#arcane fanfic#arcane viktor fanfic#vitya arcane#viktor x gn!reader#viktor x reader#viktor x you#gn!reader#nausicaas fics
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OOO I FOUND IT! I know I learned about it in history class, it was the Amago clan of ninjas 🥷 that had that saying “Those who desire only technique will never understand it's everything beyond that”. And here’s two quotes by Sensei Toshitsugu Takamatsu also known as ‘The Last Shinobi’: “How difficult is life when one is not surprised by anything and laughing, everyday.” And “Knowing that disease and disaster are natural parts of life is the key to overcoming adversity with a calm and happy spirit.”
It was one of Sensei Takamatsu’s lessons about keeping spiritual peace and balance while not letting internal darkness consume one’s life. (Hope you don’t mind me doing themed quotes, I find traditional ninjas and samurai, especially their lessons and proverbs, fascinating😅).
The Samurai Code Pt 2
IDW Drift x Reader
• You’re real, warm against his servos as he makes his way through the halls toward the medbay. He’s also painfully aware of how badly you’re shaking, the way you’re curling into yourself. “Can you understand me?” He asks, parting his servos enough he can see your eyes almost squinted shut, face drawn like you’re in pain even though he’s sure he’s not holding you tightly. Feeling of one of your tiny hands grabbing onto his servo, clinging to him.
• That prickling, fiery feeling is a tide washing over you in waves, stealing your breath when it crashes over you and leaving you trembling in agony when it washes out. “Make it stop,” you manage, pressing your face against that giant hand as the sensation tears you apart again, shredding you into nothing but suffocating pain. “Please.”
• “You’ll be okay,” he promises, lying to you, because he has no idea what’s happening. Spark twisting at the agony in your words, there’s nothing he can do but run a servo against your spine in what he hopes is a comforting touch as he enters the medbay. Ratchet looks up from where he’s sterilizing tools when he enters. “I can’t fix this,” he whispers, holding out his caged hands, because he can feel the way your heart beat shifts into something frantic and wild with every time you clench into a tighter ball. Those little, pained noises you’re making going right through him.
• “Where’d that one come from?” Ratchet groans, reaching to accept your little form and he’s almost reluctant to give you up as crazy as it is, you’re just clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you together. Hovering as Ratchet lifts you from his hands and reaches for a scanner to pass over you as the shaking gets worse. Eyes opening and finding him, little hand trembling and reaching out for him.
• There’s two of them now. You’re dimly aware of the first one explaining how you’d just appeared, but everything is so fragmented, pain breaking you apart piece by piece. And then there’s panic choking you, until you’re reaching for the first one. The one with that soft, soothing voice and gentle hands. Wanting to ask him to not leave you here, please, don’t leave you alone, but unable to focus enough to say any of it. But then he’s reaching for you as the other one frowns, extending a huge servo to you and in your fear, you latch onto him, the only thing even slightly familiar amid the pain.
• You curl yourself around his servo, pressing your face against him. Needing him and he stills as the shaking eases and you slump into an exhausted sleep. “Best guess it has to do with however they got here,” Ratchet says as he studies his scanner. “Rodimus already alerted me that he found another one, so you’ll have to look after that one.”
• “You can fix this,” he says, spark twisting uneasily as he carefully accepts you back from Ratchet, aware of how fragile you feel in his servos. “Ratchet?” That look the medic levels at him is answer enough, but it’s not the one he wants as his attention dips to you.
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𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣
Warning: Angst/mention of death/Blood/MPreg/MxM
A/B/O dynamics:
Omega (Han, Felix, Y/n)
Beta (Hyunjin, Seungmin, I.N)
Alpha (Chan, Changbin, Leeknow)
The series might traumatize you. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy it.
Summary - Request; I've just been reading your A/B/O series and it's so so so good. I was wondering if you would accept an ot8 request where their omega gets in trouble with another pack and Straykids are really worried?
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
"Would you like to see Han and Felix?" Hyunjin asked softly, his voice gentle as she rested against his chest. She had just gone through an intense session of cleaning her wounds, and the exhaustion was evident on her face. Her omega side, still unsettled, wasn’t allowing her to heal as quickly as she would have liked.
"C-can I see Han? I’m not sure about Felix," she murmured, glancing up at him, her eyes a little tired and distant. Hyunjin’s hands were slowly running through her hair, his touch tender and soothing.
"Why not Felix?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion as he studied her face. The uncertainty in her voice had him puzzled.
"I’m not ready to see him... just know that," she said quietly, avoiding his gaze. Her voice held a firmness, but it was clear there was more to the situation that she wasn’t ready to share.
Hyunjin felt a small shift in her scent—although it still carried that faint offness, it grew even more sour, tinged with something he couldn’t quite place.
"Alright, we don’t have to talk about it," he said softly, understanding that pressing her wasn’t going to help. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, the warmth of his lips offering a small comfort. He definitely knew the reason behind her reluctance—it was the pregnancy. He could piece it together now, the signs, the subtle shifts in her behavior. She was still processing it all, and he knew it wasn’t something she wanted to discuss just yet.
He kissed her forehead again, then slid his hand down to her lower back, rubbing soothing circles against her skin. His movements were slow and calming, trying to ease the tension in her body as she lay against him. He could feel her drifting, her body growing heavier with sleep.
"Rest now," he whispered softly. "I’ll be here when you wake up." And with that, he continued to gently caress her back, waiting patiently for her to fall into a peaceful slumber.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
"How is she doing?"
"She's gone back to sleep, Hyung," Hyunjin replied, his voice quiet as he closed Y/N's bedroom door behind him. The soft click of the door echoed in the stillness, but it did little to ease the heavy tension hanging in the air.
"Has she asked for anyone?" Leeknow’s voice trembled slightly, his posture stiff as he glanced anxiously at Hyunjin. His eyes were still a dull gray, and his concern was written all over his face. He hadn’t even tried to calm his own alpha down, knowing it would be pointless. The stress was too much, even for him.
"No, she asked for Han," Hyunjin sighed, rubbing his temples as they walked down the corridor, hand in hand. "Her wounds are taking a long time to heal. That's my worry," he continued, his tone weary and filled with concern.
"Do we need to bring one of the Umma's from the village?" Leeknow asked, looking up at the beta with desperation in his eyes. While Hyunjin was known as the best healer in the pack, the village grandmothers had been the ones tending to their kind for generations—long before Chan had taken over. They were old now, retired from their duties, but Leeknow would do whatever it took. If it meant tracking them down, he'd do it without hesitation.
"No, it’s okay, love," Hyunjin answered, giving Leeknow a soft look. "I can handle it. I just need to go through the ancestral scrolls and find something stronger." He knew that his own abilities had limits, but he was determined to make it work.
"This is serious, Hyunjin," Leeknow’s voice softened, his expression solemn. "Werewolves don't lose pups. If you need help..." He trailed off, his eyes searching Hyunjin's face, trying to gauge the weight of the situation.
For centuries, werewolves were known to have the strongest blood. Miscarriages and abortions were unheard of—something they all took for granted. This was a new, terrifying reality for Hyunjin. He’d never faced something like this before.
"Leeknow, I said it’s okay," Hyunjin snapped, his voice suddenly sharp. "Don’t question my abilities." He growled, stepping back from his alpha, frustration and fear bubbling beneath the surface.
"Hey, watch it," Leeknow’s voice darkened, a quiet warning. No one in the pack—especially not a beta—ever stepped up to him like that. Hyunjin's lip quivered at the reprimand, and finally, he broke.
"I’m sorry, Hyung," Hyunjin whispered, his shoulders sagging. "This is just so messed up. She's broken, completely... and she's slowly rejecting our bond. If she completely rejects us... we could—"
"No," Leeknow interrupted sharply, pulling Hyunjin into a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around him, trying to offer comfort. They sank down onto the bed together, Leeknow gently massaging Hyunjin’s scalp as they sat in silence. "Don't say that," he whispered, his voice cracking with fear. "We just need to find a way to get Chan in there without her... without her freaking out."
"She won’t allow it, she doesn't even want to see Felix because of the pup," Hyunjin said, his voice heavy with defeat. "Her omega is already convinced we did nothing to protect her. Don’t you feel it, babe?" He looked up at Leeknow, his eyes filled with sorrow. The burn in their marks was unmistakable—the sign that one of them was suffering deeply. In this case, it was Y/N.
"I know," Leeknow replied, his voice calm but tinged with sadness. "We’ll be okay, Hyunjin. We just need to figure out a way to keep Felix away for now." He wiped a stray tear from his cheek, trying to stay strong for both of them.
Hyunjin nodded, his hand absentmindedly rubbing the new tattoo on his arm—a symbol of the new life entering their pack. "I don’t know how she’ll handle seeing him. And he can’t seem to stop begging to see her," he said quietly. "I’m second in command, but right now, it feels like I’m failing," Leeknow sighed.
"We’re in this together," Hyunjin reassured him softly. "We just need to distract him—take him down to the streams or the village to play with the kids, or get him to do some charity work. Anything to keep him occupied."
"Yeah," Leeknow agreed, his voice low. "Right now, he's out shopping for the baby with I.N." He let out a small sigh. "At least he’s not here making things worse."
A heavy silence fell between them, thick with unspoken fears. They were still going to be dads, even though they had just lost one of their pups. The harsh reality was settling in—life had to move on, whether they were ready or not.
"Are Chan and Changbin Hyung back?" Hyunjin asked, trying to focus on something else, anything else.
"No," Leeknow replied. "They went with the hyungs to track and hunt the rogues. They told me to stay and watch over everything." So that was where Chan and Changbin had disappeared to—off with the elders, tracking rogues in the forest.
"Alright," Hyunjin said, standing up and stretching. "I’m going to go check on her again. If you find Han, tell him to come, but only if he's strong enough." Hyunjin let go of Leeknow's hand slowly, his fingers lingering for a moment.
"Okay," Leeknow said, his voice firm, though still quiet. "Be strong for me, okay? I’m just down the stairs if you need me." He gave Hyunjin a final look, his aura shifting to something darker, more protective.
"Okay, Hyung. I love you."
"I love you too," Leeknow replied, his voice soft but steady.
When Leeknow finally found Han, he was in the kitchen with Seungmin, both of them busy preparing food for their mates. The smell of freshly cooked dishes filled the room, but Leeknow wasn’t focused on that. He had something important to say.
"Hey, Hannie?" Leeknow called out, his voice soft but urgent.
Han immediately looked up, his large eyes filled with hope and concern.
"Yes, Hyung, is she okay? Does she need anything? Do you need anything?" Han stopped what he was doing, his full attention now on Leeknow, worry evident in his voice.
Leeknow paused for a moment before responding, his own heart heavy with the weight of what needed to be done.
"Babe, I think it's time for you to go try talking to her," Leeknow informed him gently but firmly.
Han's eyes widened, and he took a step back, shaking his head slightly as panic started to creep in. "Are you sure? Is it not too early? What if she panics? What if I make it worse?" His hands were shaking, his chest pounding with nerves, and he felt the pull of his omega instincts—loud and demanding.
Go. Go. Omega needs us. Mate needs us. Now.
Han's eyes flickered gold, his omega taking control, the familiar surge of instinct filling his veins.
"She needs you, Han. She needs an omega by her side," Leeknow said, his voice calm but filled with quiet conviction. "I believe in you."
Han didn’t hesitate any longer. His omega instincts were too strong, and his heart ached knowing Y/N needed him. He quickly gathered his thoughts and began to pack away the food, giving Seungmin a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving for upstairs.
The walk to her door felt like an eternity. His mind raced, unsure of what to say or do. He grabbed anything he could find—clothes from different rooms—knowing he needed to build a nest for her. He was determined to make her feel safe, to make her feel loved.
When Han finally reached the door, the room was dark, the only light coming from a dimly lit lamp on the nightstand. Y/N was in the center of the bed, Hyunjin holding her close, his hand gently stroking her hair. Han stood there for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before Hyunjin looked up at him and nodded, signaling for him to come closer.
Y/N stirred as she felt a new presence in the room. Her senses were sharp, and as soon as she caught the new scent—one that was familiar and comforting—her heart skipped. She didn’t know what to expect. The fear of rejection still clung to her. She was certain that they might hate her now, that they might blame her.
When her golden eyes met Han’s, all her worries seemed to collapse. Without thinking, she bolted upright, her hands reaching out toward him. The moment their eyes met, her tears began to fall freely, her body shaking with the weight of her emotions.
"Hannie," she sobbed, her voice breaking as she reached for him. "Please... I don’t know if you’re angry at me... Please don’t hate me."
Han’s heart shattered at the sight of her, her vulnerability hitting him harder than he expected. He wasted no time. Without a second thought, he crawled into the bed beside her, throwing the clothes he had gathered into Hyunjin’s hands. He wrapped his arms around her, scenting her gently but urgently. He wanted to erase any trace of the pain and trauma still clinging to her scent, to make her feel safe and loved again.
"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice hoarse as she clung to him, desperately needing his presence, his comfort.
"Shhh," Han murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "There’s no reason for you to apologize. This is not your fault." He cupped her face gently, staring deep into her eyes, his own eyes filled with sorrow. "I’m so sorry this happened to you," he whispered, placing a tender kiss on her forearm. All she could do was cry. She had missed him so much.
"I love you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of the words was clear.
"I love you too," Han replied, his voice firm and full of resolve. "Forever, okay? I’m never letting you out of my sight. Whoever did this to you... I hope Chan Hyung rips their head off and keeps it as a trophy."
Y/N couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath, her scent slightly souring as she pulled him closer. "I’m okay now, Han. I promise," she whispered, trying to convince herself as much as him. "As long as I’m back home, that’s all that matters now."
Han’s heart twisted with guilt. She wasn’t angry at them, wasn’t holding any of this against them. She was trying so hard to stay strong, even though it was clear that she was breaking inside. He just couldn’t understand why she wasn’t angry with them for not protecting her, for not doing more. But right now, none of that mattered. He just wanted to hold her. He just wanted her to feel safe.
He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair, allowing himself to just feel her. "I’m not going anywhere, Y/N," he whispered.
"I'm sitting right in the corner if you need me," Hyunjin said softly, his voice laced with concern as he sat quietly by the door.
Y/N sniffled, her eyes swollen from the tears she had cried. She looked up at him, her face twisted with a mixture of exhaustion and vulnerability. "Hyunjinnie, go get some real rest," she urged, her voice gentle but firm. "Eat something, take a hot shower, and nap. I promise, I’m right here with Han."
Hyunjin shook his head, his eyes soft but unwavering. "Y/N, I told you I wouldn’t leave."
She sighed, her gaze softening as she reached for his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "You’re not leaving," she assured him, her voice growing steadier. "I’m right here with Han. You’ve been working nonstop, looking after everyone. Please, take care of yourself; I promise nothing will happen."
Hyunjin stood still for a moment, taken aback by how calm and composed she sounded now. It gave him a flicker of hope, but the worry still gnawed at him. He felt the weight of everything, the endless worry and exhaustion, but hearing Y/N speak so firmly made him feel a bit more confident in leaving her alone for a while. Still, he hesitated.
"Okay... I’ll be back in a bit," Hyunjin finally said, his voice a bit strained. "Han, if anything happens, call me." His eyes lingered on Y/N one last time before he leaned down to kiss both of them on the forehead.
"I will, trust me, Hyung," Han reassured, his voice calm but filled with an undercurrent of concern. Hyunjin gave one last glance to the pair, the tension in his chest easing slightly. As he exited the room, he felt a small sense of relief knowing Y/N was opening up to Han. That was a step in the right direction.
Once the door clicked shut behind him, Han let out a slow breath, turning back to Y/N. His voice softened, almost a whisper, as he gazed down at her. "Baby," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "How come I can't feel you in the bond anymore?" The question had been haunting him for hours, and now it was out in the open.
Y/N’s eyes flickered, her breath hitching as she looked up at him. The bond between them had been a silent connection, one that had always been there, pulsing with warmth and reassurance. But now... it was nothing but a cold, distant feeling.
"I don't want you to feel my pain," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Felix is pregnant... That would put a strain on him, and I just can't handle the alphas right now. I don't want to deal with all of it." She closed her eyes, trying to keep herself composed, but the ache in her chest was impossible to ignore.
Han’s heart ached as he gently ran his fingers through her hair, his touch soft and soothing. "Oh, but you know that Chan and the alphas never meant to hurt you," he said quietly. "They’ve been beating themselves up over it, not forgiving themselves for what happened. They’ve been looking for you nonstop, Y/N."
"I don’t want to talk about it," she whispered, shaking her head, her body tense against him. "Haven’t I been through enough?" Her voice trembled as she nuzzled her face into his collarbone, seeking solace in his scent.
Han paused, the weight of her words sinking in. "Yes, you have," he said softly, his voice filled with guilt. "I’m sorry." He held her close, his heart heavy with the knowledge that she was still carrying the weight of everything that had happened. "But you’ll have to face Felix eventually," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "He’s been really worried about you."
Y/N stiffened at the mention of Felix, her hands instinctively moving to her stomach. The emptiness that had settled in her chest the moment they lost their pup seemed to fill her again, like an overwhelming wave of grief. "I’m just not ready," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can’t bear to see him carrying our pup."
Han’s heart clenched painfully at her words. "Our pup," he corrected softly, as though trying to remind her, to ground her in the reality that they still had a future, that they still had each other. "Don’t forget... you’re still the mother of that baby." The words felt heavy, but they needed to be said.
Y/N shuddered, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks as she turned her face away from him. "Han, please... enough," she pleaded, her voice trembling with the weight of it all. "I can’t take it."
"Shhh," Han whispered, pulling her closer into his embrace. His heart was breaking at the sight of her distress, and guilt gnawed at him for bringing it all up. "It’s okay, get some rest." He gently rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know I’ve made it worse."
The guilt in his chest was suffocating, and his omega instincts were furious at him for making her cry, for causing her even more pain.
"Please... be patient with me," she murmured, her voice barely audible now as she drifted into a fitful sleep, the exhaustion from everything weighing her down.
Han stayed still, watching her with pained eyes, his hand resting gently on her back. As she slowly drifted off, he kissed her forehead softly, his heart breaking in his chest. "I’m so sorry," he whispered to her, his voice full of love and regret. "I’ll be here. Always."
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
"Where's Han?" was the first question I.N asked when they all sat down for dinner. His eyes quickly scanned the room, but the empty seat beside him didn’t go unnoticed.
"He's upstairs with Y/n," Hyunjin answered, clearing his throat, trying to keep his tone casual.
"He's with Y/n?" Felix perked up immediately, his eyes widening in surprise. "How come? Did she ask for me?" His voice was hopeful, almost eager, but it was clear he didn’t fully understand the situation.
Hyunjin glanced over at Lee Know, seeking some help in explaining the situation. Lee Know, sensing the tension, stepped in.
"S-she… uh, right now we just don’t want to overwhelm her, so we sent Han in to check on her," Hyunjin said, his voice faltering slightly. He couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang of guilt in his chest for lying, even if it was to keep things calm.
"Oh..." Felix frowned, his shoulders slumping. "Can I go in next?" he asked, his voice filled with concern, his food now completely forgotten. The worry in his tone was impossible to ignore.
"How about we finish dinner first?" Lee Know interjected smoothly, "Then we’ll see if she’s awake."
Felix nodded reluctantly, but let out a sigh of frustration. "Okay, that's fine. I just really hope she’s okay," he muttered, looking down at his untouched plate.
"How was shopping?" Hyunjin asked, eager to change the subject and distract everyone from the tension surrounding Y/n.
"It was okay," Felix replied, though he seemed distracted. "I just wish you guys could’ve come. I wonder when Chan and Changbin-hyung will be back," he pouted, poking at his food absentmindedly.
"Eat, babe, you haven’t been eating," I.N scolded softly, noticing how little Felix had touched his meal. Felix let out a tiny whimper, not expecting to be called out.
"I’m not hungry…" Felix mumbled, his gaze shifting from his food to his mates.
"Eat," Seungmin teased, his voice light but firm. "I worked hard on this."
Felix couldn’t help but smile, the teasing tone breaking through his mood. "Okay, for you, I will," he replied, taking a small bite of his food, though his mind was clearly still elsewhere.
The room went silent again as everyone fell into their own thoughts, the tension still lingering like an unspoken weight.
Suddenly, Lee Know’s posture stiffened, and his chopsticks clattered to the table as he stood up abruptly. His instincts were on high alert as he felt the bond feel heavy. His alpha was urging him to go outside.
Someone was on their territory.
"They’re home," he said, his voice sharp with urgency.
Without waiting for anyone else, he bolted for the door, his footsteps echoing through the house.
"Hyung wait up!" Hyunjin was right behind him, and the rest of the group slowly stood up, following in a mix of confusion and concern.
When Lee Know reached the driveway, his eyes went wide. He saw Chan and Changbin coming down the path, both of them covered in blood, their faces exhausted and drained. Their clothes were torn, and it was clear they had just been through something rough.
"What the hell?" Lee Know gasped, rushing to support Chan, while Hyunjin quickly stepped in to help Changbin.
"What happened?" Hyunjin asked, his voice tight with worry, his hand resting on Changbin's shoulder to steady him.
Chan gave a weary glance at his mates, blood dripping from a cut on his arm, but his lips remained pressed into a thin line as if he wasn’t sure whether to explain or keep quiet. The silence between them only deepened the worry growing in the others.
Lee Know glanced at Hyunjin, his expression grim. "We need to get them inside," he muttered, helping Chan to steady himself as they slowly made their way inside. The rest of the group followed behind, trying to make sense of the situation but knowing it would have to wait until later.
"we killed them."
well...fuck.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
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#stray kids#skz#skz fluff#skz angst#skz poly#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#chan x reader#minho x reader#jisung x reader#chan fluff#lee know fluff#changbin fluff#hyunjin fluff#han fluff#felix fluff#seungmin fluff#jeongin fluff#bang chan fluff#minho fluff#jisung fluff#stray kids masterlist
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— emo soobin as leviathan from obey me!
pairings: emo soobin x fem reader
plot: random soobin as leviathan from obey headcanons
warnings: perv soobin, loser soobin, red flag soobin, virgin soobin and virgin reader, cursing, faint smut, tsundere-to-yandere soobin, strangers to lovers troupe, bratty sun reader, service top soobin
soobin was absolutely seething in anger when he found out lord diavolo was responsible for the human exchange student committee. the emo demon boy hated humans or normies as he likes to call them.
soobin just didn’t understand the hype behind humans. the indigo-colored haired male thought they were disgusting. worse than angels, another type of creature he hated.
the tall boy kinda hoped that one of the humans that was apart of the human exchange committee would at least be a pretty girl; soobin longed for a player two :( he felt so lonely watching his brothers all have their girlfriends and all he had was his pet odi. his only friend.
when soobin was told that he needed to show you around RAD, he was not happy.. i mean why him out of all people? soobin was not known to socialize or be friendly.
with a whiny grumble soobin drags his long legs out of the comfort of his room; already annoyed for the day. he just hoped this tour would be over quickly.
soobin would be lying if he said you were ugly, the boy was mesmerized with how you nodded with a pretty smile at his detailed explanations about his favorite girl group kara and his favorite anime character ruri-chan when he should have been going on about the history of the devildom.
“is your hair naturally like that?” your delicate fingers point to soobins head, the emo boy smiled at how you didn’t reach to grab it without asking. “yeah it is” “oh that’s cool! back in the human realm everyone is either born with blonde or brunette. you have really pretty hair” you blush feeling butterflies in your stomach.
“so do you have any more questions?” soobin looked at you, hoping you didn’t. “actually i was wondering maybe when i’m settle in my room we could hang out?” your voice was soft like honey, soobin paused in his tracks. “what? i think you’re getting me confused with yeonjun. what do you mean you want to hang out with me?”
from that day on, soobin had to pinch himself around you, afraid that a pretty human girl like you hanging out with him was some type of dream.
soobin hated how easily and quickly it was to lose his aloof and tsundere act around you, he hated how quickly he was able to gain romantic feelings for you.
soobin liked how you invited yourself over to his room, most people would find his otaku activities weird and boring but you found them fun. you didn’t mind being locked away in soobin’s bedroom, snuggled up in his bedsheets watching bunny girl senpai over and over again.
“why have you been avoiding me?” after not seeing soobin for nearly a week you decided to march up in his room demanding an answer. “i-i haven’t..” “yes.. yes you have! you’ve been ignoring my texts and just been on league of legends all week!” you screech making soobin curse internally, the boy has been ignoring you. “i thought things were going so well!” you sat on the tall boy’s bed itching closer to his laying body. “they have been” soobin felt his heart thump at how close you were approaching. “so why are you avoiding me?” your chin rests on soobin’s chest. “do you not think i’m pretty enough for your time and attention anymore? is there someone else?” soobin couldn’t stop staring at your pink lips wondering what your lip gloss tasted like. “binnie? hello? are you even listening-“ you let out a yelp in surprise at your friend shutting you up with a kiss. your body melting against soobin’s, you pout pulling away. “you know, if you wanted to be my boyfriend you could have just said so”
soobin wasn’t big with words, he preferred just listening to you talk your ear off. nodding dumbly at your words with sparkling eyes wondering if you’d be that talkative if he was eating you out- “binnie? you’re still listening to me right?” “hmm? oh yeah you’re talking about wanting to go blonde together”
you also didn’t mind being his personal guinea pig when it came to cosplay. you really enjoyed all the special attention and praises you got for staying still without complaining.
soobin also liked how you’d actually listened to kara with and for him, your favorite song being honey and his favorite song being secretly secretly
the two of you rarely argued unless it was over something stupid like who was better tommy february 6 or tommy heavenly 6? you both couldn’t choose however.
soobin was definitely a service top, as soon as you both got together you were always demanding soobin to your whim. not that your now boyfriend minded. he liked how you were always bratty and bossy. “binnie can we match? i know its pink but it’s pretty” “tie my shoes mister!” “do you mind applying my lipgloss for me?” “princess orders binnie!”
“baby please?” soobin’s large hands loop under your inner thighs, his eyes looking up at you pleadingly as his glossy lips itch closer to your pretty pussy. “m’ sleepy binnie..” a small whine slips your lips, feeling yourself drift to sleep. “you don’t have to do anything baby! just p-please let me a small taste? please?” soobin begs pathetic making you huff. “fine”
a/n: ugh i love soobin
#lyrical’s garden 💒#coquette#txt#txt headcanons#txt imagines#txt x reader#txt reactions#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#txt smut#txt fluff#yandere txt#txt fanfic#txt soobin#leviathan obey me
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hello hi! ik the fandom mostly favors interactions between LIs & MCs/Readers but i was wondering if you have your own ideas between the LADS boys like friendship headcanons between them? how their dynamic works and which would be the best bros with each other or strongest siblings rivalry vibes between them ( ╹▽╹ )
hopefully this is alright to request! 🙏🏻
Hi Annonie!
Thank you for your request! I saw the wonderful @irandial already sharing her thoughts on the same request, and I couldn't agree more with her on the boys! But since you asked I'll also drop some headcanons 🤭
I've always imagined what their life would be like if they happened to share a house and how their dynamics would play out, so I'll set the scenario based on your request.
Remember, these are headcanons and just for fun 🩷
❧ The LaDs Men as Friends - Shared house edition
He's the loudest—always getting on everyone's nerves with his antics and pouty demands. Rafayel will block the bathroom for hours with his extensive baths and beauty routines: Since he's basically a fish on land, he's super cautious about keeping his skin hydrated.
Imagine him opening the bathroom door in a bathrobe, with a face mask on and a bowknot keeping his purple bangs off his forehead, as he yells at the other guys: ''I'm gonna burn y'all in your sleep if ya don't stop knocking on the damn door!!'' Then he slams the door shut, locks it again, and puts his Airpods on full blast, while the others continue to desperately hammer against the bathroom door, needing to use the toilet.
Rafayel pretends to be annoyed by everyone in his household and murmurs''These silly humans...'' while also using his evol and wielding his dagger to protect his friends without hesitation whenever they run into trouble. Though they get on his nerves sometimes, he wouldn't want it any other way.
Xavier is in a constant catfight with Rafayel for always eating his cheesesticks behind his back. In general, he's the one who constantly empties the fridge and eats everyone's snacks and food. Even Zayne can't help but let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief, when he finds another empty cookie package in the cabinet—for the third time this week. And its only Tuesday.
Whenever Xavier isn't busy snacking, his friends usually find him either reading a book or napping in the most unusual places around the house, giving them daily heart attacks. Once, Sylus almost spilled his drink when he tripped over Xavier's sleeping form, curled up on the soft, fluffy carpet in the dimly lit hallway. ''Uhh... I'm not quite sure how I ended up sleeping on the floor... it just looked so comfy here and the stairs to the bedroom seemed like too much effort…'' He rubs his neck sheepishly and gets up with a yawn, while Sylus taps his foot impatiently, shaking his head at the silver-blond.
Definitely the ''mom'' of the friend group. He takes care of everyone's well-being while occasionally cracking one of his dry jokes, causing an awkward silence in the room. Surprisingly, nobody feels called out when he scolds his friends for eating too much junk food or staying up too late. ''Rafayel, where are your slippers? The floor is cold—at least wear some socks.'' And the Lemurian? He rolls his eyes and mumbles something under his breath but eventually gets up to grab some socks from his room.
Zayne always has an open ear for his friends. Whenever someone needs to get something off their chest, they approach the Doctor, and he genuinely tries to comfort them. ''Xavier… I don't think Sylus hates you for accidentally poisoning him with your tiramisu. However. Make sure to remember that dishes with raw eggs need to be refrigerated…''
He's the one who would probably get along with everyone, giving off protective big-brother vibes. He mostly watches his friends quietly from the background with an amused smirk, shaking his head at Rafayel causing a scene over someone spilling his paint, Xavier serving a suspicious-looking tiramisu, or Zayne gathering the others laundry from the floor with a frown. ''Doc, are you sure you want to touch that? I remember seeing the fish doing... unholy things with those socks.'' Sylus says with a mischievous grin, earning a dead stare from Rafayel. ''Hold up! I did WHAT?!''
He just loves teasing these idiots.
But Sylus is also the life of the party and always up for a night out with his friends. The guys had a blast at the karaoke bar once when Sylus was drunk enough to wholeheartedly sing Miley Cyrus' Wrecking Ball. Of course, Rafayel recorded the whole show and teased him the next morning while the silver-haired man had the worst hangover ever. ''Listen, Fish... I'm adding a cat to this household if you don't delete that NOW!''
#requestcheri 🍒#writercheri 🍒#cherimoyatea🍒#love & deepspace#love and deepspace#love and deep space#lads#l&ds#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deepspace zayne#love and deepspace xavier#love and deepspace sylus#lads rafayel#lads zayne#lads xavier#lads sylus#rafayel love & deepspace#zayne love & deepspace#xavier love & deepspace#sylus love & deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace
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welcome to my masterlist! here, you'll find everything i've ever written! enjoy!
Marvel
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Another Love- You meet Wanda at a grief group, as she’s struggling to heal after Vision’s death. Will you help her heal? Will your friendship grow into something more?
Under the Weather- You’re not feeling the greatest, but your girlfriend is there to nurse you back to health.
A Happy Ending- Wanda has to choose between you and Vision. But will she make the right choice?
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Keep You Warm- You are stuck in a freezing cold safe-house in Alaska, but luckily Nat is there to provide you with some warmth.
Not a Monster- After coming home from Wakanda, you meet a certain red head recovering from rejection and show her she’s capable of being loved.
Rocky Road- After Bruce disappears, abandoning Nat, you help put the pieces of her broken heart back together. When Bruce comes back from Ragnarok and professes his love for Nat, will she reject him? Or will she break your heart and run back into his arms?
No More Hiding- You’re a super soldier fresh out of the ice, so it’s your first pride month. And you get to spend it with your girlfriend.
Enough- After Wanda cheats on you, you’re heartbroken. Luckily Nat is there to pick up the pieces.
All I Ever Asked- Promises are hard to keep as an avenger.
Yelena Belova x Reader
Always- You have a nightmare about your days in the Red Room, but Yelena is there to comfort you.
Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x reader
Proud- After a not so pleasant dinner with your homophobic mother, your girlfriends are there to give you the support you need.
When They Remembered- Wanda and Nat forget your birthday. But will they remember before it’s too late?
Part 2
Take Care of You- You’re sick, but luckily your girlfriends are there to help.
Deserve- Sometimes your doubts and insecurities become too much to handle. But your girlfriends will always be there to remind you how much you mean to them.
Invisible- You feel invisible, and your powers don’t help with that fact. Can two redheads and a team of superheroes change that feeling?
Wanda Maximoff x Yelena Belova x reader
Starting Anew- You lost your mom. Yelena and Wanda lost a mentor figure. But can something good come from all this loss?
Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova x Reader
Festivities- Yelena has never had a normal Christmas before. Time for her girlfriends to give her the best one yet!
Soteria- You struggle with being kept a secret by the team and the insecurities of not being good enough. After a hostage situation, your girlfriends reassure you of your worth.
Rio Vidal x Reader
Gentle Love- She may be Lady Death, but to you, she is your sweet love.
Agatha Harkness x Reader
Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader
Lavender- Nature had always been your life. How fitting that it could now cause your death.
Miscellaneous
Colt Seavers x Reader
Danger- you have an issue with your boyfriend’s addiction to danger. he doesn’t see the problem. but will he see it when the shoe is on the other foot?
Colt Seavers x Jody Moreno x Reader
Sane- You’re going crazy on a miserable set with a miserable director. Thank goodness you have two wonderful things that keep you sane.
Shelby Goodkind x Toni Shalifoe x Reader
Calm in the Storm- You are not okay. But you are also not alone.
Calliope Burns x Reader
Only You- you and Calliope had something going on that had yet to be labeled. so when your friend Juliette starts to take a liking to the girl, should you be concerned?
#masterlist#marvel masterlist#agatha all along#agatha harkness x reader#rio vidal x reader#agatha harkness x rio vidal#agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wandanat x reader#colt seavers x reader#jody moreno x reader#yelena belova x reader#kate bishop x reader#calliope burns x reader#uraveragelonelysapphic
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I'm in love with this series!! Jay Todd, my beloved. Just, ah, the world building is so good, and the FEELINGS! Don't even get me started on the smut cause I was fr fanning my face. I talk about my fav parts below the cut!
Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in.
Plsss, I'm swooning already. Love that she doesn't need the helmet to get shit done.
Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before. “You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored.
Ah, I'm grinning! You can fr feel her confidence through the screen
Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks. “I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.
OOOHHHH!! Get him!! It's over for me. She has my heart and I'm buying her anything she wants
You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds. “You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing.
!!! I've got heart eyes for this fr
Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.
No notes. I love when two people are equally enthralled with each other
And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway.
aw that's sweet but also only burners my girl? I worry for her lots
Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers.
I've decided that they're married, your honor. Just, ah, I love how quickly they entwine into each other lives! Just finding your person and knowing you want to be with them all the time, do everything and anything with them.
How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.
Oh, it's so fine. They're absolutely just friends and there isn't anything more to it at all and they definitely don't see each other anything but platonic besties
“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.
I mean, I'd let her
“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.” “Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress.
AHH, I'm losing it over this interaction!! and all of it done in each others arms!! INSANE!! It really shows how comfortable they are with each other. I just adore friends to lovers
Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her. Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.
PLEASE! I'm drooling. Reader is better than me cause I would not have made it out of her apartment
Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure.
I actually love Jay's and Dick's sibling antics
“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.” Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.
Misunderstanding of century!! But I am eating it up!!! Angst is my kryptonite
“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor.
owwww. The heartbreak. The humiliation. I wanna sink my teeth into it
“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.” “Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.
GERRY! just, oww!! All of this is ow. Fr the pain reads so real and I'm devouring every line
And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.
Swooning. This angst is so sick and twisted (but in a good way, I swear)
“Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.
CRUEL and UNUSUAL. I'll take fifteen
Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced. “These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.
Plssss, chekhov's gun but it's the underwear I knew were gonna come back up. I looove it. And Jay being just as desperate has me feral!!
Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.
hehe, The way I am giggling and twirling my hair
Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.
I think I forgot how to blink reading this. my jaws on the ground
Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.
!! They're nasty and I love them for it
“I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.” “Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”
eee I'm obsessed with this!! The way I want to sink my nails into it and never let go. I looove they're dynamic fr. Sunnie you're actually feeding the Fem!Jason enjoyers soooo good 🥰💙
A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out
Part 1: Unexpected Faces in Familiar Places
fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay makes a new friend, now if only she could be something more... tags: sexual harrassment, threats of violence, idiots in love, flirting, swearing, sexual tension, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 4.7k a/n: enjoy! i've been having a really shitty week (even before the election) so i scrapped my original intention to only post once it was fully written and decided to just share this with you all
Jay Todd has the shittiest day to cap off the shittiest week in what feels like forever. Her ribs ache from a hit on Monday that’s still not fully right and she spent most of the day chasing down one of her accountants that had the sheer fucking nerve to try and steal from under her nose. Her knuckles are bloody, she’s on the verge of a stress headache, and all she wants is to drink her goddamn drink in peace. Apparently that’s too much to ask for because she gets a call from Cala down at one of her bars about out of towners harassing the guests and now that just won’t do at all.
Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in. Zeroes in on the two chucklefucks have that cornered a poor girl sitting at the bar. Notes the way she’s hunched over and pulling down the hem of her skirt to hide her skin from lecherous eyes. Cala buzzes around the scene trying to divert their attention away from poor little miss unlucky but it doesn’t work.
“–m not alone,” Jay hears you say as she strides towards the bar. “I’m waiting on a friend.”
“That so,” the taller of the two men leer. “Well she can just join us too. Plenty of room for more.” The shorter man makes a crude gesture at his crotch and Jay sees red.
“There you are!” She calls out, shoulders past the men without even acknowledging their presence. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was a real bitch. Did you already order our drinks yet?” You look up at Jay with gratitude and something suspiciously like tears shining in your eyes. Fuck. You’re pretty.
“No I– I didn’t know if you were planning on driving so I just waited,” you play along.
Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before.
“You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored. The man’s face starts to go a horrible shade of red that clashes terribly with his hair.
“So you think you can just butt into a private conversation, bitch?” He snarls, spittle flying.
Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks.
“I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.
He opens his mouth to respond, vein pulsing in his forehead but the cock of a shotgun stops him. Cala, blessed Cala, had finally had the distraction she needed to grab the shot gun from under the bar and she is using it to maximum effect.
“Out!” She thunders, waving the shotgun in the men’s faces. “Out and don’t you ever come back. This is one of the Hood’s bars, we’re under her protection and there’s gonna be hell to pay for this.”
Enraged the larger one goes to yell back but the shorter one grabs at his shoulder. Whispers at him to look around at all the hostile faces, the other regulars getting to their feet and cracking their knuckles. Tails between their legs the two nuisances scamper out.
Jay nods at Cala and she calls out “Next round’s on the house!” to the cheers of the room.
Job taken care of, Jay goes to leave when a hand around her wrist, just catching her under the hem of her jacket, freezes her in place.
“Wait!” you call. She turns to look at you properly, the wobble of your lip and the shortness of your skirt from where you’re no longer tugging it down. “Please? I just– I’m worried they’ll be waiting outside for me. I was supposed to meet a date here but they bailed on me and now I have to wait for the next bus to come. Would you stay with me for a bit? Please? I’ll– I’ll buy you a drink for the inconvenience.” And well, Jay always was a sucker for a damsel in distress.
“Sure,” she says, slinging herself lazily back into the bar chair. “It’s no inconvenience but I’ll take that drink. Whoever he is, he’s gotta be mad for standing a pretty girl like you up.”
“Oh um,” you fluster at her words. “Thanks?”
Cala sets down Jay’s usual order for when she’s driving in front of her and refills your drink. Waves off your fumbling with your wallet with a “It’s on the house, chérie. Our apology for the bad night. Besides,” she nods at Jay “the Boss Lady would not let you pay if you tried.”
You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds.
“You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing. “Just needed a little help, that’s all. Now my name’s Jay and I own this little establishment. Why don’t you tell me a little something about yourself too?”
You stutter and start through your own self-introduction, mascara long eyelashes fluttering at all the attention. Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Getting you to talk about yourself seems to work though, familiar territory slowly evening you out. You’re surprisingly witty when you’re not flustered, someone fun to have a conversation over beer with. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.
A stray notification catches your attention, interrupts your story about how this bar wasn’t even in your bottom five. You roll your eyes at the sender name.
“Jerry,” you answer Jay’s inquisitive look. “Apologizing for standing me up, for all the good that’ll do.” With a flourish you tap at your screen, smile and say “Blocked.”
Jay can feel the corners of her eyes crinkle up in return, simple joy and approval for you cutting the trash out of your life. Not that she’s really entitled to an opinion on it. Your smile lasts a half second longer before suddenly descending into panicking, fumbling out your phone and chanting no no no under your breath.
“I missed the last bus,” you breathe out, eyes wide. Jay’s brain stutters at that, there’s no way you’ve been talking together for four hours. Cala catches her eye and jerks her head up at the big clock hanging over the bar. Fuck. It really has been four hours.
Jay knocks back the last of her beer and stands, extends a hand out to you to help you hop off the bar stool that’s just the wrong side of too tall. Even in your heels Jay’s still got quite a few inches on you.
“C’mon,” she says. “It’s my fault you were out so late, I’ll give you a ride home.”
She leads you outside to where her bike is parked, your palm still in hers.
“I don’t have an extra helmet so you just take mine okay?” She says, putting it on you.
“We’re– we’re going on that?” you squeak out, surprise rendering you docile.
“Yep,” she answers, already straddling the bike, thighs flexing. “Hop on and hold on tight.”
Jay more feels than hears your scream as she revs the engine and takes off, corners maybe just a little too fast to be anything other than showing off. Too soon she pulls up at your front door and already she mourns the feeling of your arms wrapped around her middle. She gives you a hand to help you off the bike again and nearly buckles at the brief glimpse of the black unlined lace panties she sees under your skirt as you swing your leg over the bike. The two of you stand there facing each other, moment stretching out until a car backfires a few blocks over.
“Well, I guess I should get going, “ Jay tells you reluctantly.
“I’ve got work in the morning,” you respond, still not moving. “Wait! D’you want my number or something so we can do this again? Not the first bit obviously, but maybe drinks? Maybe coffee next time?”
And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway. Grinning, you see her off into the night, taillights dissolving into darkness.
Jay calls first, asks about coffee with too much casualness in her voice. Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers. Bitches with you about assholes at work – not that she gives you the full story – and bemoaning the state of customer affairs. Makes you dinner at her apartment and makes a spot for herself on your couch. Worms her way into every corner of your life without regret because you’d tell her if her presence was unwanted. Right?
Leave it to Jay to come back from the dead and still fall in love with a straight girl. Dick teases her about how far she’s willing to bend over backwards for ‘just a friend’ and Jay has to show her teeth and snap back that at least she has some. Has to cover up for the fact that her sanity is hanging by a goddamn thread thinner than that single string that had tied the open sides of your top together that one afternoon, revealing bare skin and the hint of a breast if you leaned just right. The way she almost walked into a wall when she realized you weren’t wearing a bra the first time she came over to your place. How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.
A gala invitation has Jay wishing she could shoot lasers with her eyes and incinerate it. Her eye twitches with annoyance and you snatch it up out of her hands before she can stop you.
“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.
“A stupid one,” she answers, not really paying attention.
“But you’ll have to get all dressed up for it! Please, please can I come over and watch you get ready? You never get dressed up,” you pout.
Even with your whining and pouting, Jay can’t help but think she’d still have a better time at the gala with you by her side to distract her from pointed glances and whispers. She sighs. Wait.
“There’s a plus one on that invite,” she tells you nonchalantly, studying your face in her peripheral vision. “You could come if you want, get all dressed up too.”
You stiffen at the question. “You really mean it?” you whisper, hardly daring to breathe.
“Course, but only if you want to,” she offers. You squeal, clutch the envelope to your chest and tackle her.
“It’s short so I’ll probably have to rent a dress and oooh I need to think about makeup, maybe a bold lip? Oh! And I can have another excuse to wear the Jimmy Choos...” you babble in her arms.
“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.”
“Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress. You prance around the room pulling down dishes for dinner and Jay sighs, melts back into the couch cushions as she listens to you chatter a mile a minute about how excited you are.
Jay’s really, really regretting her impulsivity by the time the gala rolls around a few days later. In all her excitement about not going alone for once, she’d forgotten that this meant she’d be going with you. With you, all dolled up and mouth-wateringly gorgeous.
You knock at her door earlier than she’d expected from you when a fancy event is involved and has to do her very best not to drop her jaw on the floor. Gorgeous green silk pools around your breasts in a daring cowl neck, the fabric clinging to your curves, draped to exaggerate them. Skims the plush sides of your hips before falling straight to the floor, a daring slit revealing the warm bare skin of your leg ending in those heaven sent Jimmy Choos. Jay stares, knows she stares for a beat too long but there is quite literally no force on earth that could tear her away. You start to squirm under her attention, still standing half in her doorway.
“That bad, is it?” You laugh self consciously, start to cover your cleavage with your hands. “I knew it was too much.”
“No, no it’s just enough,” she rasps, standing back to let you in. You brush past her so close she can smell your perfume, can tell you’d broken out your special occasions scent in the nice glass bottle. “I just need to fix my tie and do my hair and then we can go.”
“Do you need the tie?” You hum, stepping into her space. Grabbing a hold of one of the loose ends, you tug it out from where it’s tucked under her collar and drape it over the couch. Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her.
Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.
“Can I do your hair too?” You ask shyly.
“Don’t see why not, I was just going to do a ponytail,” Jay shrugs. Delighted you push her down onto the couch and start pulling bobby pins out of your purse. “Wait did you plan this?” She asks.
“A girl should always be prepared for the best outcome,” you tell her primly as you stand behind her and finger comb her riotous hair.
Quickly you separate out a deep side part and Jay memorizes the feeling of your hands in her hair. Hands twisting and pinning, you’re done in only a few minutes, handing her the little mirror out of your clutch to admire your work. Softly Jay touches your work, the way you’ve slicked back one side of her hair and made the waving curly mess look artistic and purposeful.
“Thank you,” she says, making eye contact with you in the mirror. She means it, means it for more than just fixing her hair but for everything else you’ve done since stumbling into her bar and her life all those months ago.
“It’s nothing,” you tell her, hands suddenly occupied with the mechanism of your purse. “We should probably get going, right?”
Jay drives the two of you to the venue in a really nice car you’ve never seen before. She waves away your questions with a tight, “My dad won’t even notice it’s missing.” She parks at the end of the red carpet and the doors haven’t even opened yet but you can already see the camera lights flashing. You look at her, suddenly nervous because you’d vastly underestimated how important this event was. She turns to you and smiles, grips your hand over the car console.
“Hey,” she says, all softness. “Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I’ll head off the vultures, you just hold onto me and enjoy the canapes, okay?”
You nod, and then suddenly she’s opening up your door, hand extended to help you out. The lights are blinding, flashing so fast the afterburn never gets any time to dissipate. Pasting on a smile you cling to Jay’s strong arm, rock solid even under all her suit layers. Paps shout and scream at you to look their way and you can barely hear them over one another.
Eventually the two of you make it through the front doors of the hotel and you gasp like you’ve been drowning. Rubbing your shoulders Jay moves to cover you, cuts off the private moment from prying eyes that seek and skitter.
“Is it always like that?” You gasp. Fighting to regain your balance.
“Unfortunately,” she says with a rueful smile. “But that’s the worst of it over, now we can really enjoy the night.” Gallantly she offers you her arm and you accept it gratefully, her elbow brushing up against the swell of your breast as you walk.
She introduces you to the night’s hosts – her family – with a whispered apology in your ear. Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure. She doesn’t know what possesses her to, but she wraps a proprietary arm around the small of your back as she steers you around the room. Helps you to crystal flutes of champagne that make your nose twitch at the carbonation and warns you off the most disgusting canapes.
Jay has just chased down the waiter carrying the mushroom and cheese quiche bites you’d fast declared your favourite when the two of you get roped into a very stilted conversation with some of the fat cats the Waynes are currently trying to drain dry, for charitable reasons of course. She’s tuned out the conversation while she piles all the best looking bites onto a plate for you, horrifically uninterested in whatever Mr. Harold J. Carson, esquire had to say about the Texan economy. She cottons on to something being wrong as your hands tense up around her arm and your laugh gets ever more brittle.
“That’s a very kind offer Mr. Carson–”
“Harold, please,” the great mustached walrus harumphs.
“–Mr. Carson,” you bravely soldier on. “But I’m here on a date and I hope you’re not implying that I’m the type of woman to two-time someone.”
He turns an ugly shade of puce and sputters at the implication, society matrons chuckling behind their glasses at his terrible blunder. Sensing an opportunity, Jay grabs you by the arm and starts leading you away.
“I do think our presence is needed by my family elsewhere,” she says, vowels Diamond District clipped. Her grip around your fingers is strong, tighter than it’s ever been as she leads you down a hallway and into an unused meeting room. Her breaths are coming heavy as she drops your arm like she’s been burned, deposits the plate on the empty table. Jay knows if she speaks now, her voice will shake and she will not have that. FUCK. Fuck, she was supposed to have this under control by now. She’s not your keeper, she’s not gonna stand between you and happiness but fuck it hurts to be used like a ticket into someone else’s bed.
“Jay,” you ask cautiously. “Are you okay? I really wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, I’m telling the truth, promise.”
“Why’d you come with me as a friend when you were already invited as someone’s fucking date?” Jay spits out, unable to contain her jealous anger and pacing to try and burn it off.
“But you invited me,” you answer her, voice trailing off in confusion.
“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.”
Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.
Jay has to stop pacing because wait what.
“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “But you don’t even like women?” And it’s less a painful fact she knows now and more of a question.
“We met because my date stood me up!” you exclaim.
“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.”
“Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.
“Oh,” she says stupidly, suddenly forced to re-contextualize her entire life for the past few months. You dash an angry hand at your tear eyes and turn to go.
“It was my mistake,” you tell her voice thick with emotion.
And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.
“Oh sweetheart,” she croons and you shudder. “Bet you’ve been feeling like I’ve been treating your real raw lately.” She cups your face in her hand, smoothes her thumb over the high plain of your cheekbone. “Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.
“We were– we were supposed to dance,” you confess, head falling back against the door.
“We can still do that,” she says, curling her fingers into your hair and pulling. She grins at your swift inhale.
“We were gonna dance an’ then, then you were gonna take me home.” You breathe out, pupils blown wide with hunger.
“Was that it baby girl?” She asks. “Playing it a little safe for your one night fantasy, weren’t you?” Jay lets go of your wrist to rest her hand on your shoulder, large hand pressing down on your collarbone.
“Was gonna kiss you goodnight,” you whimper, shivers running across your skin. Slowly, so slowly you can make out the ticking seconds hand of the big clock on the wall, Jay leans in and carefully slots her mouth down over yours. Sucks gently on your bottom lip before releasing it with a sigh.
“Like that?” Jay asks. “You were just hoping for a sweet little kiss on the mouth?” Her own breathing is ragged.
“No–o,” you gasp. “Was hoping– was hoping you’d kiss a little lower too.”
Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced.
“These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.
“They’re my– my lucky date underwear,” you gasp into the air.
“And you were hoping to get lucky tonight, weren’t you baby girl?” She coos up at you.
Biting your lip, you nod. Jay sets about tearing your underwear to pieces with her teeth. Your thighs tremble around her ears and she slams your hips back down against the door. Spreads your lips open with calloused fingers, presses a light kiss to your clit in greeting before she starts making out with your pussy. You howl and sag, trusting her to take the full weight of you as your knees turn to jelly.
Jay eats you out with enthusiasm and she eats you out with experience. Does this thing with the slick thrusting muscle of her tongue that has you gasping and begging for more. Can feel the heel of your shoe digging into her back, urging her own, begging her to fuck you harder. Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.
Sucks your clit, hard, just a hint of teeth as she spears you open on a thick finger. Twists and curls it against your slick wet walls, lets herself affectionately get acquainted with your cunt. Scissors you open with two fingers just to watch your head bang back against the door, eyes shut and tears streaming down your face. Sets an uneven rhythm with her fingers and tongue that has you moaning and trying to ride her face for more. Finger fucks you with wet, squelching vigour as you quiver and shake, walls tightening up as you careen towards climax. Starts putting pressure on your rim with a third finger just to tip you over the edge of it all, pleasure making you stupid. Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.
Gently, she takes your trembling thigh off her shoulder and places it back onto the ground. Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.
“Hoping for a little something like that, honey?” She teases.
Vigorously you nod, head bouncing back and forth like a bobblehead, words still fucked out of your brain. She holds out a hand to you – not the one that’s just been buried knuckle deep inside you – and clasps your hand in her own.
“C’mon, let’s go home then,” she tells you airily, leading you back through the maze of the building.
“But what about the party?” you ask, mascara still smeared around your eyes.
“I don’t care,” Jay bites out. “I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.”
“Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”
“Good,” Jay smirks. “Because it wasn’t a question.”
series masterlist | part 2
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The sins of one were the sins of all
(Honestly I wrote this because my girl just needs a fucking hug and IM TIRED😭🙏🏾)
Themes: jinx x fem reader, hurt and comfort, we braiding her hair twin.
Didn’t proof read this or nothing I just cooked.
Navigating the dim, twisting pathways of the underground wasn’t how you planned to spend your day, but finding Jinx was all that mattered now. As you searched, a place suddenly came to mind. a spot she’d likely retreat to, a familiar hideaway.
Without hesitation, you picked up the pace, heading straight for the Last Drop and slipping in through the back door.
Your footsteps reverberated off the walls as you climbed the narrow staircase toward Silco’s office. In the past, just approaching this door would have made your skin crawl, the weight of his presence heavy and unsettling. But now… that feeling was gone, vanished with him the night he was killed.
All that remained was an empty silence behind the door, where his shadow used to linger.
Your fingertips lightly grazed the door before you pushed it open, the creak echoing in the empty room, confirming what you already suspected…Silco’s office was vacant.
You’d hoped to find Jinx here, but a part of you knew it was a long shot. Still, as you stepped inside, your eyes fell on the desk, where a map lay scattered with Jinx’s chaotic scribbles, a sign she’d been here recently.
Almost on instinct, you reached for the map, lifting it carefully with both hands, including the hexcore-tainted one. You usually kept it hidden beneath your cloak, the sight of it stirring a mix of frustration and shame. Someday, you knew, you’d have to accept it. but for now, it stayed mostly in shadow, a reminder of what you’d become.
“This is the first time I’ve seen your hand in years.” The voice jolted you, and before you knew it, you’d hurled a dagger in her direction, missing the blue-haired woman by barely an inch.
Catching your breath, you glared. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you, and now you decide to show up?” Annoyance laced your words. She slid smoothly off the beam, landing on the desk. That’s when you noticed her long hair was loose, spilling over her shoulders and onto the desk—no braids, just a cascade of untamed blue.
She caught you staring and raised an eyebrow. “I was trying to braid it back, but… Silco always did that for me.” Her raspy voice betrayed no hint of vulnerability; it was like a wall she always kept up around you.
You hesitated, almost tempted to ask why she kept her walls up in the first place, but you knew better than to press her boundaries.
Jinx stared at the ground, her eyes shadowed and distant, tracking your movements as you stepped behind the desk and eased into the old, creaking chair. When your fingers brushed her hair, she flinched, jerking back just slightly. You couldn’t help but wonder if, beneath that tough exterior, she was still afraid.
You’d known each other since she went by “Powder,” before the undercity had forced both of you to grow hard and cold.
You’d come to Zaun after being cast out of Piltover, your family’s sins leaving you no choice. You weren’t like them, but in Piltover, the sins of one were the sins of all. Survival in the undercity was brutal, especially for a kid, and you still remembered how close you’d come to losing your life again and again.
But then, like a spark in the dark, she had come barreling into your life. small but fierce, her blue hair a shock of color in the dim streets. Powder, a kid with more guts than anyone you’d ever known. And on that night, she’d been your savior. A little bomb in her hand, tossed without hesitation, scattering the men who meant to hurt you.
That tiny blast had done more than drive them off. it had bound you and Powder together, two lost souls in the chaos of Zaun.
Back then, she was just another lost kid who had found purpose under Silco’s wing. The pain in her eyes had been unmistakable, a pain you recognized all too well. It was the same haunted look your mother had worn the day she brought ruin upon your family.
If you were being honest with yourself, you’d only decided to toughen up that day because you couldn’t stand the idea of being outdone by someone younger, someone with less to lose. She was three years your junior, but her boldness had sparked something in you, forcing you to swallow your fear and find strength you didn’t know you had. Unlike her, though, you’d never bent the knee to some ruthless leader. You carved your own path, becoming a gun for hire, bound to nothing and no one.
Over the years, you’d killed without hesitation, Piltover elites and undercity rogues alike. Survival demanded sacrifice, and you were willing to make it.
Every now and then, your paths would cross, and you’d catch glimpses of the girl who once called herself “Powder,” now transformed into Silco’s weapon. Meanwhile, you had grown too, honing your skills and eventually joining the Firelights, giving your life a new sense of direction.
Now, with the undercity on the brink, chaos breaking loose at every turn, you looked up from your thoughts to find jinx’s back facing you, her head slightly turned seeing her violet eyes sharp and curious. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice carrying an edge of suspicion.
“Braiding your hair, if you’d just sit still,” you replied, fingers deftly weaving through her loose blue strands. Her hair, soft but tangled, For a moment, she held still. watching you work with an expression you couldn’t quite read, letting you bring order to just one small piece of her wildness. You were lucky you still had some skill in this, after all the times you’d braided the younger kids’ hair back in the Firelights’ hideout. Your hands knew how to be gentle, even if the rest of you had learned to be anything but.
As you worked, Jinx’s voice broke the silence. “Every day, he had me making something for him. Or doing that stupid eye thing of his, even though he could’ve done it himself,” she muttered, bitterness edging her words as she thought about all the things she’d done for Silco.
You could see the weight of his lies on her, the way they’d sunk deep. She’d believed him completely—why wouldn’t she?
“My mother expected perfection from me,” you said softly, finding a rare thread of common ground. “One slip, one failure, and I was nothing but a disappointment to her.” For a moment, it felt like you and Jinx were standing on the same edge, each of you marked by different scars but both shaped by people who’d held you to impossible standards.
Both of you had been praised for your minds, raised to rise above, only to lose it all. And when you needed someone most, they had all turned away.
“You were just some Piltover rat. You don’t know a damn thing about what it takes to survive down here.”
You met her gaze, the old anger simmering beneath your words. “I know more than you think,” you replied, voice steady and unyielding. “I lost everything before I even got the chance to hold it,” you added, memories of that day, of watching your family fall apart, still as raw as ever.
Jinx scoffed, crossing her arms. “Why are you telling me this? You think I care?”
“No,” you said, fingers deftly weaving the last of her braids. “But I thought you’d understand.” You secured her signature pigtails, then took a step back, crossing your arms as you faced her. “You followed him because you had nowhere else to turn, no one else to show you the way. But he’s gone now, Jinx. And yet, you’re still clinging to his ghost, acting like he’s still here.”
She bristled, eyes flashing. “I’m not mourning him! That’s the last thing I’d ever do for him.”
“Then prove it,” you challenged, voice calm but firm. “Find something real to fight for. Not for a man who only wanted control and used your loyalty to his advantage.”
Jinx took a step forward, her violet eyes sharp and angry as she glared up at you, defiance sparking between you like a fuse ready to ignite. You held her gaze, searching for the truth hidden beneath her rage. In those eyes, you saw things she would never say aloud.
confusion, anger, the scars of betrayal.
It reminded you of that night at the Last Drop, the night you’d tried to pull her away from Silco’s grip and convince her to join the Firelights. She’d laughed it off, but you’d seen the hesitation, the crack in her armor. That night, things nearly went south between you. one wrong word, and a bullet could’ve ended it all. Now, standing here again, that same tension lingered in the air, fragile and sharp, like the calm before a storm.
“Why do you keep acting like you know me?” Jinx’s voice was sharp, bitter, violet blue eyes wild with frustration as she shoved you. “Like you have any clue what I’ve been through!” She pushed you again, harder this time, her finger jabbing into your chest. “You don’t know anything!”
Her anger flared, and she kept pushing, shoving you back again and again until you finally reached out and caught her wrist.
She tried to pull away, struggling against your hold, but you pulled her closer, wrapping your arms around her, holding her tightly. Her fists came down hard on your back, each punch sharp with anger and pain. It hurt, but you didn’t let go, not even as her punches weakened, not even as her shoulders slumped against you.
The room grew quiet, save for the small, choked sobs that broke free as she stopped fighting and finally gave in. Her fingers gripped the back of your cloak, holding on like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
Her cries were raw, almost hollow, filled with a pain you knew she rarely allowed herself to show.
You just held her, steady and silent, giving her the space to release what she’d been holding back. You didn’t hate her, not for her choices, not for her mistakes. Somehow, despite everything, all you’d ever wanted was to help her find her way back from the darkness.
As her breathing slowed, she didn’t say a word, but her quiet acceptance in your arms told you everything. In that fragile silence, you knew that, at least for this moment.
you were exactly where you needed to be.
#jinx#jinx lol#jinx x reader#jinx x fem!reader#jinx arcane#jinx league of legends#jinx needs a hug#comfort#oc mention#we love her#jinx posting
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🕯️ THE RITUAL HAS BEEN COMPLETED AND I AM SUMMONED BY @emmg 🕯️
WIP ✨WHATEVER✨
I have a lot of Emmrook things in mind that I want to write (I made a list!), but I only have one brain and one dominant hand for writing, so I’m just dawdling away at my leisure.
Currently I’m working on my take on a scene that would take place directly following the end of the game because BioWare hates us and decided we don’t need any closure for our Rooks or their love interest aside from some vague ‘live, laugh, love’ bullshit epilogue slide.
Rook works their fucking ass off the entire game and is basically the emotional sponge for everyone else’s issues, pushing themselves beyond what’s healthy to see their goals through. Emmrich remarks on it on at least two separate occasions, so I think my Rook would probably find herself in a position within hours of everything concluding where her body and her mind just stand on the brakes and say, “Nope! We’re done! We cannot and will not do any more things until you take some time to recuperate!”
And who’s going to make sure that happens in the most romantic, wholesome, and slightly stern but sexy way?
Emmrich, of course 🤍
Also, I’m reverse uno-ing @emmg because I want to know what you’re cooking. LET ME INNNNNN.
I’m also tagging @allofthebarks because she said she has things she wants to write but the writing just isn’t coming, so comfort yourself in my clumsy, unedited WIP and just write A Thing. Dooooo it!!!
Veilguard End Game Spoilers Under The Cut
Cheering and accolades followed them through the ruined streets of Minrathous, and Amina took the time to ensure that no waiting hand was left unshaken, no hug went unreturned, and no condolence went unoffered. It took them nearly two hours to make their way to a damaged but still structurally sound estate secured for them by the Shadow Dragons but as far as she was concerned, it was time well spent.
As the ornate doors of the manor closed behind them and the cacophony of their victory was muffled, Amina took two steps into the manor, bent at the waist, and splattered the floor with the contents of her stomach.
Emmrich was on her in an instant, holding her long black hair aside with one hand and stroking comforting circles on her back with another.
“What’s happening? What’s wrong with her?” Taash demanded, taking a step forward. Her voice was distant - drowned out by the screeching whine in Amina’s ears.
She felt her legs wobble and give way, her armoured knees colliding roughly with the ground as she threw out a hand to steady herself, not caring that it landed right in her sick: everything was too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too… real. It felt like she was being driven out of her own body like a wayward spirit, her essence clinging desperately to whatever it could hold onto to tether her here.
Just as distantly, Amina could hear Emmrich respond to Taash but his words were lost on her as she wiped her mouth with the back of her arm and lurched clumsily to her feet.
“Harding - I need to go to her mother—“ Her voice broke: she hadn’t had time. None of them had had time to tell her mother about Harding’s death before Elgar’nan forced their hand.
She clenched her teeth at the sensation of hot tears cutting through the accumulation of grime and gore and sweat on her face, snarling defiantly through the deluge of agony crashing through her… breaking her from the inside.
There’s still work to be done…
She was pulling away from Emmrich, her course uncharted but steadfast: she needed to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. It didn’t matter, as long as she was doing something… as long as she was helping. But no matter how she pulled and tugged, he wouldn’t let her go: lithe as Emmrich was, he wasn’t weak by any stretch.
With some effort he managed to put himself in front of her, gold rings clinking against silverite where he gripped her shoulders before pulling her tight against him.
“Breathe, darling.” He instructed, enshrouding her diminutive frame in his own. “I need you to breathe… can you do that for me?”
She managed an anguished sob in reply but nothing more: any attempt to draw breath was met with unforgiving resistance as her airways slammed shut in seeming rebellion of life itself.
Arrangements need to be made - things need to be taken care of, and I’m the only one left to take care of them.
No. First I need to breathe.
“I’ve got you: you’re safe with me.”
More tears rolled down her cheeks as her eyes clenched shut and she forced a thin, ragged inhalation into her lungs.
“Well done, darling.” Emmrich encouraged, ever calm, ever heartening. “Now let’s try for another one, shall we? I’ll do it with you. Let out your breath on the count of three: one… two… three…”
She felt Emmrich contract against her as he slowly exhaled with her. None of this was new to her: Nevarran breathing techniques were required learning for Watchers. Claustrophobia could present unpredictably, and if one found themselves turned around or overwhelmed in the Necropolis, being able to stay calm was vital to survival.
“Perfect. Now another breath in…” He waited while Amina drew another shaky breath then loosened his hold on her to gently cup her cheek. Within moments she could feel the familiar soothing tingle of Emmrich’s magic coursing intimately through her, seeping through her nervous system and providing some relief.
“Emmrich,” she rasped, clutching at his chest. “I… I need to—“
“Do absolutely nothing.” He interjected sternly, his voice absent of any playful familiarity or scholarly flair, though it softened almost reflexively as he continued. “You’ve overextended yourself, Amina. You’ve been overextended for some time, but you pushed through to see this to the end - and you have - but my love, you can’t evade the reality of what you’ve been through indefinitely… you need to rest and take time to come to terms with things.” He drew his thumb over her cheek, speaking to her like she was the only person in the room.
“But—“
“All that needs to be attended will be seen to: Lace’s mother will be informed of her sacrifice in an appropriate manner, and the… actions of the Inquisitor will be communicated to the south.” He hung on the word ‘actions’ seemingly unsure of its accuracy but ultimately too focused on Amina to care.
She opened her mouth to argue, but likely having anticipated this from her, Emmrich spoke first.
“You’ve done so much and helped so many without asking for anything in return… please let me be the one to help you in your moment of need?”
His eyes searched hers, soft and pleading, and she studied the face of the man she loved: each pleasing curve and angle that she had committed to memory etched on her heart. The crinkled lines at the corners of his eyes, and the creases around his familiar mouth spoke of years of smiles offered to comfort and soothe.
He was filthy too, and his hair was limp and disheveled, strands of it hanging into his face… but oh Maker how she loved him…
“I love you…” He whispered for her ears alone, his lips ghosting over hers. “And I so look forward to reminding you of that fact every day for the rest of our lives… so let me begin now: let me take care of you.”
#wip#wip whenever#dragon age#datv#da:tv#veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard#da:tv spoilers#veilguard spoilers#dragon age spoilers#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age the veilgaurd spoilers#datv spoilers#emmrook#emmrich volkarin#emmrich x rook#emmrich romance#v writes
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for ba bao fan | fem!reader
you, wandering around the house with a swollen belly. calling his name to ask for food and care and comfort. made me foam on the mouth holy shit, need that to become a shirt fr, continuing that one ask, imagine his lover did actually got pregnant, now months into the pregnancy she became quite clingy at times, especially when he came home late at night, because she knew, she couldn't actually get out that often anymore to join him in the casino when carrying a child, too much risk. so, she just resorts to actually voicing it on their late-night talk-cuddle, “y'know… you should take a rest tomorrow, i’m missing you too much to let you go.. this place doesn't feel like home when you're not around.”
if he actually does? well, as much she'll struggle with her growing stomach, let's just say she's ready to get down on one knee if he hasn't already or rainfall of tears, whole lotta of them
˖⁺. ﹙ the demon-possessed casino owner x afab!fem!reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁
. . . I would never leave you my dear !! 🍒 : casino owner ˖ grim reaper ˖ demon cw : pregnant reader﹙ verse 1311 hàoyǔ. ﹚
your husband stays home to make sure you are doing alright with your pregnancy
of course he’d stay with you! his heart always hurt having to leave you in the day and return at night. he knew he couldn’t keep it up for too long - at some point he would need to be there for you.
casino be damned, the second you said that there was no way that he was leaving you alone ever again. not until you give birth and even then - he’ll wait a few extra months. one of his highers can tend to the casino until he’s back. he’ll simply check in through myrr whenever he can.
you would awake to your lover not beside you. tummy twisting and pregnant hormones making your heart break more than it should.
finding the will to rise out of bed and find your way out of the bedroom - you’ll catch whiff of something in the kitchen. a stir of hope. excitedly your feet carry you down the hallway. your tears doubling at the sight of your boyfriend adding the finishing touches to breakfast.
“now, why the tears?” hàoyǔ ‘s deep croon only makes them fall faster. he senses your next move and in an instant is in front of you so that you do not race over. a gentle hand to your stomach and another cupping your face.
“I-I thought -”
“Sshh,” he murmurs. A cold kiss presses to your forehead and he slowly rubs at your tummy. “Did you really think I’d leave you here after last night? Not leaving any time soon, my darling.”
#﹙ cupcake rush. ﹚: haoyu 1311 𖹭 ݁#monster boyfriend#teratophillia#terato#demon x reader#monster fucker#villain x reader#grim reaper x reader#monster x reader#monster oc#oc x reader#x reader#reader insert#haoyu 1311#asterism
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