#i want you to know. i spent so so long on this because the moment i finished his face i was on the verge of tears | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-darklings · 3 days ago

Note

Oh god please write the timebomb fic!!! (or several lol)

ೀ pairing: ekko/jinx

ೀ wc: 5k

ೀ summary: "Always a dance with you, huh?" Or: two years after the battle versus Noxus, Ekko receives an unexpected visitor.

ೀ author notes: ask and you shall receive!!! I wrote this in one sitting in some weird ass haze and barely edited it, but this is the most fun I had in a long while so I hope you enjoy!!!

ೀ read it on ao3 | listen to the playlist

The first few days after the battle, Ekko doesn’t rest. He barely sleeps or eats, or allows himself time to think.

He can’t.

There’s too much to do. The dead are in their dozens. His Firelights took a major hit, and he knows that for the next few months his fingers will be numb from painting their pictures on the mural day in and out. So many who could have lived but didn’t. So many could have had better futures. But if he just runs, if he keeps pushing on, he can outrun these regrets and his grief, too. This way, he doesn’t remember Vi’s heartbroken expression when she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug after the fight, blood and sweat still clinging to her, her words choked when she told him—

Four seconds.

He could have saved her. He would have hauled her snarky ass out of that tunnel, ripped that bomb from her hands. He would have—

He runs from those thoughts, too. They suffocate him, and Ekko has too much to fix to be suffocated by his grief right now.

He sure as hell didn’t fight for Piltover. He fought for Zaun, for Firelights. Because he knew Ambessa Medarda would never settle for anything other than complete subjugation. She would have destroyed Ekko’s home. She was already busy murdering and imprisoning their people, and nothing but complete eradication would have followed in her wake.

Ekko did it for… her. The blue-haired symbol of defiance, of uprising. A loud declaration that they won’t live under Piltover’s oppression forever, that they’ll reach greater things one day and won’t be silenced. They won’t wait for permission to breathe again. It’s what she would have wanted, he convinces himself, even though part of him knows Jinx would have enjoyed the chaos of the fight more. Or maybe not. Not since that little girl. Not since he had to save her from herself over and over again, only to lose her anyway.

Undercity mourns her. Her visage is everywhere. Jinx the Saviour. She would have hated it, he thinks wryly. She never got to see just how loved she was.

Maybe he should have grabbed her and ran away. Maybe he should have let the world go to hell and saved her instead. The thought, born of fatigue, lingers only for a few fleeting seconds, a rare moment of selfishness amidst a day spent fixing the world around him.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. If only he had tried harder when they were kids and saved her from Silco. If only he didn’t give up on her.

She’s always been his biggest maybe. And now they’ll never be more. Not this version of them. Never him and her as they were.

Aw, are you gonna mope now, boy saviour?

“You’re not here.”

It punches clean through his chest. The realisation of it. The sheer, horrible weight. He’ll never see her again.

Constants and variables, Benzo told him once. Constants and variables, young Ekko.

A week after the battle versus Noxus, Ekko sinks to his knees inside his room, exhausted and heartbroken, and sobs.

Things begin to settle. Slowly, at first, the city might have been gutted after the battle but not destroyed, the morale low but hopeful. Hexgates are gone, and Ekko is glad when he finds out. He doesn’t want to see or hear anything about the arcane for a while. No magic in the world could fix the pain festering in his chest.

Sevika, Silco’s old second-in-command and once his sworn enemy, comes to him two weeks after the attack.

“They’re making me a council member,” she says, grunting when she falls into the tiny wooden chair inside his room.

She’s always been a threatening figure, power rippling from every shift of her body, but Ekko isn’t sure he wants to fight anyone right now. Nor does she seem interested in strangling him. She lights a cigarette, her scarred features set in a fearsome scowl.

“And?” he asks for anything better to say. “How is that any of my business?”

Sevika exhales through her nose, reminding him of an angry bull, all smoke and steely resolve. “I’m the only one presenting Zaun or her interests.”

Ekko almost rolls his eyes. Of course she is. The Council is simply falling over themselves to fix the situation. After months of harassment and oppression, false arrestments and beatings, they asked them to bleed for Piltover and its interests with nothing but the bare minimum courtesy extended towards them afterwards.

“I could use you, kid,” Sevika continues, and Ekko forces his anger away, loosening his fists. “Exactly for that reaction. You’re smart as hell, and been a pain in my ass for years. Pilties will try to walk all over us again in a few months’ time. You and I both know it. We gotta beat them in their own game. Not let them silence us again. I could use someone like you. Be my adviser. You’ll have a direct line to the Council. We’ll make an actual change. It’s better than whatever this is.”

Ekko’s expression sours at her words while Sevika’s gaze flicks around his room in contemplation. He works all day to a point of exhaustion, then passes out. It’s the only way he’s been able to continue, day in and day out. Being in a leadership position means you can’t take time off to grieve. Too many people are relying on him. It’s bad enough that he accidentally abandoned his people for months without meaning to. The guilt he still feels over everything has been nearly suffocating.

It’s a good gig, hero! You should do it and be a thorn in her side.

Ekko blinks the flash of blue from his vision, rubbing his brow just as Sevika adds: “It’s what she would have wanted, you know.”

A jolt of electricity runs through him. Everyone, even Vi, has been avoiding mentioning Jinx in front of him.

His jaw clenches. “You don’t know that.”

“Kid, I know what not letting go looks like,” she says, and it almost sounds compassionate, or as close to it as someone like her can get. “We had our differences in the past, I know as much—”

“You killed my people,” Ekko snaps. “Do you know how many lives you destroyed with Shimmer?”

“Sure do,” she replies listlessly, smoke billowing past her lips. “I won’t try to justify my actions to you. But y’know, when you were gone, Jinx united Zaun in a way I haven’t seen since Vander. Beats me how she did it, but people believed in her. Even your Firelights.”

It mirrors everything he’s seen and heard for weeks. Jinx freeing their people, Jinx the Saviour, the beacon for their new future. The one who set and lived by extreme examples, who made Piltover back off and take the Undercity seriously. Because they all finally realised that there can never be peace without a fight. She should be here to fight this battle with him. Ekko should be busy arguing with her that blowing up another building will not make things right. He shouldn’t be walking around with her ghost a step behind him, tormenting him with ideas of what could and should have been.

“And now she’s dead!”

His ears ring, his chest heaves, and he clutches his thudding heart, willing it back in its cage. He didn’t mean to come undone so easily.

“Yeah. Yeah, she is,” Sevika says, and there’s a grimness to her when she says it, an unexpected pain buried somewhere deep in her gruff voice that makes Ekko see her differently. “I get it.”

“No,” he whispers, pained. “You don’t.”

Seven months pass before Ekko finally picks up a brush for her.

He sleeps better at night but not without nightmares. Not without remembering Powder from the alternative universe and how they danced. How sweet her kiss felt. Not without that memory smearing to finding Jinx with a grenade in her hand, again, ready to disappear, go somewhere he could never reach her.

Ekko still hears the detonation in his ears, over and over, on a sickening loop. His mind likes to torture him with ideas he failed to save her. That no matter what he does, or how he mends time, she’s forever out of reach. His blue beacon, his lighthouse he can never find in the depthless ocean of reality.

Many have drawn her, but he still thinks that no one knows the exact hue of her hair or the wicked shine in her eyes better than him. He’s spent an entire lifetime examining them, looking for them in a sea of thousands.

Their city is rebuilding. He agreed to Sevika’s request after a few days of contemplation. Caitlyn Kiramman’s expression when he ambled into the Council room was worth the additional burden now on his shoulder. But she’s changed too, matured, and now fills her position as the Council’s leader well.

Ekko won’t forget how she allowed his friends to be imprisoned, tortured, and, in some cases, killed, but her regret made her side with him and Sevika more often than not during voting, and maybe he could at least one day forgive her. Another maybe. For Vi, if nothing else, who clearly loves the blue-haired woman fiercely.

The barren wall stares at him. He’s painted Powder before, but this is different. One day, his friend, his dearest friend, was simply gone. Without a goodbye, in a wake of tragedy. The life Ekko once had disintegrated beneath his feet overnight. Benzo killed. Vander dead. Mylo and Claggor too. Vi died as well. Or so he believed for years. Powder was missing until a different knife was delivered to him weeks later, when the word on the street spread about Silco being seen with a little girl with blue hair.

Ekko sighs, hanging his head. The city is healing, but he isn’t, or at least not as quickly.

He runs his hand over the white wall, picturing Jinx as he saw her last, those precious hours between talking her down from the abyss and their joint attack on Noxian forces. It felt so good to rely on her again, to stand with her, side by side. As natural as breathing.

You’re the order to my chaos, hero.

“Leave me alone,” he says quietly, head hung low. “It’s been months.”

A figment of Jinx chortles, arms crossed over her chest as she leans back against the wall. You would get bored to death without me. Ha! Get it?

Shooting a glare at her, Ekko picks up a brush, his fingers quivering. Tears burn in his eyes when he dips the brush into the paints he painstakingly mixed. He works, and works, until his eyes are dry and his wrist hurts. Ekko doesn’t stop until he loses light and when he steps back, he is looking at Jinx. Equal parts chaos and something ethereal.

He wipes angrily across his mouth when he tastes saltiness pooling there and goes home.

There’s no sleep that night.

Time is a strange thing. It weaves and flows. Without his Z-Drive, he has no control over it. Time simply goes on, and he’s the passenger in a vehicle he doesn’t want to move.

He’s important these days. He’s one of the few bright minds still left, and he’s endlessly busy with something. City of Progress needs every mind that can be spared. Wounds heal, and time dulls the memory, but not everything is so easily forgotten. Piltover moves quicker, but the Undercity erects a statue for Jinx beside Vander’s. He sees Vi at the ceremony, and they exchange strained smiles. They speak sometimes, but it’s not as often as it used to be. They’re both dealing with their grief the best they can.

At least Vi has Cait. Ekko has nothing but a cold bed and purpose.

He and Sevika make a good team. It almost makes him wonder what could have been in a universe where they were on the same side from the start. His Zaun, cracked but not broken, is resembling the bright version of the Zaun and Piltover he saw in the alternative verse. There're years of work still left, but there’s something like hope in him, fragile and misplaced as it might be.

A year passes. Then two. He visits the graves; he lights candles for those lost. Some days Ekko sees her, other days he doesn’t. He hopes for a glimpse, even when he knows he shouldn’t. It should be easier to let go of what you never had, right?

His mural for Jinx grows. Other faces join her, people who died believing in her, surrounding the one they placed their trust in. And, at the centre of it all, her, her, her.

Still her.

Always her.

He’s not sure what arouses him. He hasn’t slept well in years, perpetual exhaustion clinging to him like a shawl. Some would call it the weight of living, no doubt.

There’s a shift in the air, a disturbance that’s not enough to make Ekko jolt awake and reach for a weapon, but enough to make his eyes flutter open. He breathes the cool air, pushing his grogginess away.

There’s a shape at the foot of his bed. Small and round. It takes several seconds for his vision to adjust, for him to realise that a hooded figure sits perched on his bed, knees pulled to their chest.

Ekko hasn’t had to rely on his battle instincts in two years, but there’s enough left in him to attack without hesitation. His fingers tangle in the cloak, shoving the figure down, his knee pressing harshly into their abdominal, hands seeking the intruder’s throat—

“Wow, little man, you sure know how to roll out the welcoming mat,” the all too familiar voice drawls before his fingers tighten instinctively around the slender, warm throat.

A haggard breath forces from Ekko’s parted mouth. In the wild struggle, the stranger’s hood has slipped down, revealing a familiar face with a startling crop of blue hair. His heart squeezes painfully, forcing him away from Jinx’s apparition.

“Leave me alone,” he croaks, rubbing his eyes till his vision swims. “Just leave me alone! I don’t want to see you anymore!”

“Huh, fine. I thought after two years, the welcome would be a tad warmer. Brrr.”

Ekko pushes himself to his feet, stumbling away, watching warily as the young woman sits back up, picking at her messy hair. She looks different. A little older than Jinx from his visions or memories. Her hair is longer, though nowhere near the same length she once had braided into two twin braids. She swings her leg back and forth, another pulled up to her chest while she watches him. And… her eyes. Ekko was the last person to see her with blue eyes before their battle on the bridge. The last time he saw Jinx alive, they were a dangerous, burning violet.

Now, even with the shade of the night, they’re a muddy mix between the blue he once knew, and the piercing violet that made her so deadly. As if that restless edge in her has calmed down and settled.

Ekko’s chest heaves as he stumbles back a step.

“Soooo—” she begins.

“You’re alive.”

Jinx shrugs her shoulders. “Yup. Clearly. In the flesh even,” she crows, but it’s more muted when compared to the wildness he once faced off against.

His hand flies to his stomach, and Ekko distantly wonders if he’s about to throw up in front of a girl he’s spent his entire life loving.

Mercifully, his stomach settles, but his heart beats so loudly he can hear the blood rushing in his skull.

“You’re alive,” he repeats, harder this time. “It’s been two years.”

“Yeah.”

She doesn’t offer more than that, but there’s a shadow over her narrow face. She’s healthier. There’s more weight on her bones, her skin has lost some of the pallidness. As if someone took Powder and Jinx, split them clean down the middle, and fused them into one body. Stronger, more self-reassured, less teetering on the brink.

“Would have written but mail is crappy where I was,” she jokes, her voice a familiar, drawling litany. “Besides, this is so much more mysterious—”

He closes the distance between them in two steps. His room isn’t big but he would have walked, ran, sprinted if needed to close the distance between them. His arms wrap around her and Ekko squeezes her so tightly he hears a small breath escape Jinx. She’s solid and warm. Smells faintly of sea and something metallic. Ekko buries his face in the soft crook of Jinx’s neck, gasping for breath.

“Woah, hero, you’re gonna break my ribs,” she whispers, but her arms wind around him, more careful, unsure. “I thought you hated me?”

Even when he releases her, Ekko’s hands linger on her, go to her face, examining her through the crack of light illuminating his room.

“I saw you,” he breathes, devastated. “I saw you everywhere. I hoped to see you everywhere.”

Something flickers over her face, an unknown thing, secretive and distant as she’s always felt to him.

“Geez, seeing things? And they call me crazy.”

“You’re not crazy.”

There’s such vehemence in his voice it startles them both. Jinx nibbles on her inner cheek, searching his face cautiously. “I thought you’d be mad.”

Ekko laughs, a low huff of amusement. “Do you think I care for you so little, huh?”

Too late he realises he’s without a shirt, and is, in fact, mostly bare before the girl he’s harboured a crush on for years. Near boyish shyness forces Ekko back, making him clear his throat. His hands tremble when he reaches for a discarded t-shirt, hoping it doesn’t smell bad when he pulls it over his head. When he glances at her over his shoulder, Jinx is still there, still watching him, though there’s a thoughtful air around her.

When she notices him looking, she offers him a sarcastic grin.

“No need to get shy, stud.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

He plops down on his unmade bed, watching her watch him. Her face is half hidden by her arms propped on her bent knee, but the silence between them isn’t awkward. They’re taking each other in, taking in the changes that have touched them both in the last two years.

“Why come back now?” he asks, eventually.

Jinx blinks, near feline-like, dropping her head back to stare at his ceiling as if it may offer an answer. “I’m a crappy friend, but not that crappy. Happy birthday, wonder boy.”

There’s a creak in his heart, a lightness in his ribcage, a balloon of affection despite their troubled history that inflates just for her. “You remember my birthday?”

She makes a sound at the back of her throat. Glances at him from the corner of her eye. “Well, we picked it together, silly, so sure I do.” Shadows fall over her features when she angles her head away. “I… I never thought I would come back—that it was better this way.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Something close to a smile ghosts over her face at his response. Ekko can’t rip his gaze away from her. He fears that if he does, he’ll wake up and she’ll be gone again, and he’ll have to relive the agony of losing her again.

“Does Vi—”

“No. No. And it’s better this way.”

“But—”

“Drop it, Ekko. Please.”

He does. Because this is too good to be true, and he doesn’t want this to end. Emotions mix inside him, battling for dominance, so he sits there, letting them all wash over him.

“You’ve been busy,” she says abruptly, nodding her head in the general direction of the outside world. “Their new wonder boy. I’m not surprised. You’ve always been good at creating things. Good things.”

“And you’ve always been good at fixing them,” he says.

Ekko thinks back on the countless times she helped him to fix up old rubbish others have discarded and sell them in Benzo’s shop as small treasures. It feels, now, like a lifetime ago. In a sense, it has been.

She snorts; it’s an ugly, hateful sound. “Not always.”

There’s weight to how she says it. Pain lingers in each syllable, more so a whispered confession. She’s thinking of others, those lost through accidents or her own direct involvement.

“I’m sorry about Isha,” Ekko says carefully, thumb pressing into the hollow of his bare knee. He itches to take her hand, to smooth his thumb over her knuckles instead, but he doesn’t. She’s never been his to touch. “Vi told me about her.”

Jinx shrinks, turning away and he mentally curses. A sore spot even years later. Understandably so.

“I… shit. Sorry.”

“What’s with the long face?” she exclaims suddenly, jumping to her feet and twirling. Her hands drop to her hips and she grins at him, all mischief. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”

Ekko squints. “Uh, what?”

“It’s your birthday, silly,” she says, like it should be obvious. “We’re going to spend the day together.”

Jinx keeps her hood up, her gait steady. Any sign of blue tucked away. She’s changed her attire to draw less attention, and as they walk in the hazy dawn light towards the bridge separating the sister cities, it feels almost normal. Casual. Not at all like the last time they spoke, they were about to fight side by side in a battle for their lives. Not at all like he spent two years thinking she’s dead. That still stings, but knowing how she felt back then, the state she was in before he talked her down from the edge, the pain she’s been through, Ekko can’t bring himself to feel resentful. He only wants to hold her and tell her it’ll be okay because she’s not alone.

“You’re not saying, are you?” he asks, hands in his pockets.

“Nope,” she replies, popping the p. “Can’t.”

Words rush to his tongue. Insistence that she can and should stay—that there’s space here for her, not just in his life, but in the new Zaun he’s helping to shape. He almost admits it to her then. That he’s built this for her and the ones they lost along the way.

Ekko continues walking, staring at the ground, noticing too late she’s fallen behind. He peers over his shoulder and freezes when he notices what’s caught her attention. The mural. Welcoming anyone coming into Zaun. Her face, slightly younger but now immortalised, peers back at them.

“You drew this.”

He loosens a breath. “Yeah, I did. I, uh, just…”

Jinx reaches for her own face, fingertips ghosting over the painted wall. There’s tension on her face when she turns to look at him, something piercing and hard and thoughtful. Same pinch to her eyebrows he saw earlier in his bedroom.

“I won’t let them take you,” he says softly. “If they came for you. I would fight for you.”

She doesn’t break their eye contact. “I know. You shouldn’t, but I know you would.”

“Then stay.”

She saunters forward, stopping only when they’re almost chest to chest. “I’m not her, y’know? The other me. The one you love.”

He smiles, huffing a small breath, refocusing on her and her small pout. Ekko reaches forward, tucking a few stray strands back under Jinx’s hood, lingering for a beat. “I wasn’t her Ekko, either. That’s why I came back. I like this version of you just fine. But just so we’re clear, every version of you is a pain in my ass.” He tugs on a small braid, grinning when she shoots him an annoyed glare and slaps his hand away. “But I won’t have it any other way. Wait, no. It sure as hell would be simpler if you didn’t try to kill me anymore, but I guess I’ll deal with that, too.”

Jinx snorts, absently reaching for the spot he touched, her gaze softer than before. “Ha! You hit like a girl, by the way. I never got to tell you.”

“You tried to blow us up.”

“Eh,” she whines. “That was one time. You gotta let that go.”

Ekko exhales a small laugh and realises he hasn’t smiled or laughed this much in years. Joy was leeched from him with her absence, and while he did his duties, there was no security of Jinx’s usual push and pull to keep him balanced and focused. Even when they were enemies, hunted each other down and attacked each other, they existed on opposite sides of a perfectly balanced sphere.

Her nearness, the relief of having her there, overshadows the darker recollection of that afternoon when she tried to blow them up more than once. Memories so painful Ekko wishes to scrub them from his mind forever, yet they remain seared into his psyche.

She grabs his elbow, dragging him forward, breaking the surrounding gloom. “Come on then,. Things to do, things to see.”

And Ekko does what he’s done since they were young. He follows her. Because they might not have tomorrow.

The day goes by too fast. Almost a blur. A series of snapshots Ekko will lock away in his mind forever. He never expected he’d get to do this again. This is something his younger self could have only dreamt about once. When they dreamt of simpler things; flashy toys and delicious sweets, things only a young boy could fantasise about, aside from a loving home, because at least that much he had.

They walked and talked and joked around, eating street vendor food all day. Ekko knows they’re pushing their luck, but he can’t help himself. Jinx grew up here. This is her home too, and he wants to show her the progress they’ve made. There’s something comfortable about her snarky commentary and ill-timed jibes at the Council members. She asks about Vi only once, in relation to Cait, and Ekko tells her the truth.

They’re happy. They’re together. She nods, satisfied, and moves on.

“We should go see Jericho next.” It’s an offhand suggestion while they walk the newly paved river path. Now people from the Undercity can enjoy the same luxury of having a peaceful sidewalk to take their kids down. It’s amazing how it’s the small things that bring people happiness.

“Can’t,” Jinx replies, glancing towards the setting sun. Her smile twists; it’s still a smile, but it’s sad, in a way. “Sorry, hero.”

He takes several seconds to speak. “So, you’re leaving anyway.”

“Yes. I told you I can’t stay.”

“It’s a pity, then.”

She tilts her head. “Why?”

Damn her for even asking. Damn her and all the shitty circumstances for keeping them apart. Damn her for picking him during that game of hide and seek years ago. Damn her for being there for him and not being there at the same time. Damn her for being his entire world for years. Even when Ekko thought he hated her, he wasn’t free of her. He never could be. His girl with blue hair.

He’s in love with her, in every possible way, but they both know they can’t work like this. There’s too many ghosts for Jinx here, and despite the changes, Ekko can’t promise her she won’t get dragged off to Stillwater the moment authorities find out she’s alive after all.

Ekko frowns, clenches his fists, and walks away.

But she’s like an anchor to him. He stops several paces away, tied to her. “You’re gonna break my heart.”

They’ve been everything from friends to enemies and strangers to reluctant allies again. So much of his life has revolved around her. Continues to revolve around her. Past and present. But if Jinx sends him away now, if she walks away, Ekko will let her go. Because he can finally rest easy, knowing she is alive and well, even if they’re apart.

“In any other universe, I might have loved you,” she breathes.

He pivots towards her, his nostrils flaring. “Love me in this one,” he insists, reaching for her. Ekko cups her cheeks, tilting her head until her hood slips back down, exposing her blue hair to the setting sun. He’s glad there’s no one in sight because he can’t think straight right now. “Choose me now. Ask me to go away with you. Ask me.”

He presses his forehead to hers. Jinx’s empty gaze appears glazed over, her thoughts far away no matter how hard he tries to grip her and hold her close.

“I don’t deserve you, boy saviour,” she whispers emptily. “You’re good.”

“No one decides for me, Jinx. Not even you.”

She blinks owlishly, searching his wild stare, a pained expression on her face, her fingers knotting against her chest. “What if you don’t want me after a while? I’m… different and if I get bad again... What if—”

“Ask me, damnit.”

Jinx loosens a shaky breath, jumping through a hundred micro-expressions in a few seconds. A painful mix between hope and dread.

“C…” Her eyes squeeze shut. “Come with me.”

Ekko sags in relief. “Yes.” He holds her, wraps his arms around her despite the unsure way she folds against him. As if she’s unsure where to put her hands. If she should. “Yes, I’ll come with you. I don’t care if you’re different. I want you as you are, okay? No matter where we are.”

A tremulous breath wheezes past Jinx’s lips. But with that, she melts into him, burying her face against him. Her embrace grows desperate and tight, a tremble shuddering through her body.

“Always a dance with you, huh?” he says after a moment.

She chuckles, the sound warming his collarbone. “And you still got two left feet, boy wonder.”

Constants and variables, young Ekko, Benzo told him once. Everything bad that can happen in this universe might come to pass, but so might everything good.

----

an: ahh I know this isn't really my usual offering but I really hope you guys enjoyed, it's been a while since i've cared enough about canon/canon ship to do this.

#arcane #ekko x jinx #timebomb #ekkojinx #arcane fic #asks #thank you for asking anon!! just a tiny 'sort of fix-it'

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jenoslutie · 2 days ago

Text

bad idea, right? l l.dh

❥ Synopsis: You swear you've moved on, you swear you're happy in your relationship. But why is Donghyuck still on your mind? and why are you in his bed again

❥ Genre: Ex FWB!Donghyuck, Bf!Jeno, angst, smut, ??? with benefits au, she is toxic.

❥ Warnings: disloyalty, blackmailing, suggestive but no actual smut, just a whole lot of shitty behaviour from mc, even more implications to recording during sex jeno x reader, haechan x reader. not a happy ending.

❥ Word count: 3.8K

❥ a/n: hellooo angels <3 so uh, this is part 2 of is it casual!!! i KNOW this is not what u guys wanted but i fear this is how the story went!!! as always, feedback is much appreciated :P !! also THANK U TO @be-my-sunrise and @hanniesbrat for letting me yap to you guys about this odd ass fic LMAO

You hated the fact your boyfriend was roommates with the man that ruined you. You hated walking into your boyfriend’s apartment and seeing his face there, staring back at you as if nothing ever happened. You hated having sex with your boyfriend knowing he could come home at any time and hear you. You hated the fact that he still thought that your boyfriend was your friend and treated him like one.

Jeno, your boyfriend, has been nothing but the best to you. He comforted you through all the late nights you wanted to spend crying, he held you through every moment you spent crying over that fucker until you realized how much you really like him. No man has ever treated you the way Jeno has. No love has ever compared to the love Jeno has given you and you wouldn't trade it for the word.

“Jeno, I really don’t want to see him, can you just come over instead?”

That’s how alot of your nights went,

baby <3: donghyuck told me i need to move out baby <3: he fucking sucks baby <3: he said i need to break up with u or leave because he can't stand seeing u around

you: what the actual fuck you: i'm so sorry you: he actually sucks so bad you: you’re welcome to move in with me in the meantime you: or however long u want you: i'm so sorry for dragging u into this mess jen you: seriously

baby <3: it’s not your fault baby baby <3: we’re in this together.

“You packing up your shit or what, loverboy?” Donghyuck smirked, leaning against Jeno’s door frame.

“Use your eyes, Donghyuck.” Jeno scoffed, not sparing him a glance. He continued to pack his stuff into his boxes.

“Oh, don’t forget to pack your girlfriend’s clothes! In Fact, I might have some in my room too, you want me to bring them to you?”

“Fuck off, Donghyuck.”

One thing you know for sure is Donghyuck fucking sucks. If he didn’t make that clear the first time around. You’d say you wish the worst upon him. However, some nights, you get deep in your thoughts and thoughts about your relationship with Donghyuck and you miss it. But one thing never changed, you always had Jeno by your side, every time, without fail.

“Jeno, what if I never met you?”

“Where’s this coming from?” He chuckled, pulling you in closer and kissing your head for reassurance. “I’m sure i’d find you one way or another, you're my person”

It was little things like this that made you fall for him. You truly believe Jeno was the one for you. No one treated you half as good as he did.

“I never want to leave you, angel. You’re mine forever” You smiled, cuddling closer to Jeno, you smiled to yourself when his scent hit you. He smelled heavenly, like he always did, the same comfort and warmth that drew you into him in the first place making you desire him even more today.

unknown: hey unknown: i'm sure you know who this is unknown: we need to talk unknown: don’t tell jeno.

Your heart sank. Donghyuck? It can’t be.

you: who is this?

unknown: [attachment: 1 video] unknown: remember me?

Your jaw dropped, clicking on the video to see you bent over the sink in a bathroom you could never forget, ever. Your hair a mess, you're deliriously calling yourself ‘his forever’. You fucking hated that he had anything to black mail you with such as this. You hated yourself for giving him that type of power.

you: donghyuck. you: we have nothing to say to each other you: dont try to contact me again

unknown: you’d be fine with me sending this to your boyfriend though, right?

Immediately, you called him. He was sick in the head and only got more and more out of hand.

“Donghyuck, you’re not fucking funny” you spat, venom laced in every word

“Funny? Babe, who said I was trying to be funny?” He chuckled “I’m serious, did you forget your little boyfriend lives right next door?”

You heard him knock on the wall, screaming out your boyfriend’s name. “Jeno!”

“Shut the fuck up!” A faint voice in the back.

“Fuck off, Donghyuck.” And with that you hung up, falling back onto your bed with a sigh.

“Jeno stop! They’ll hear us” You giggled, lightly pushing Jeno’s head away from his spot in between your legs. He’d been trying to get you worked up through your clothes the whole time youve been over at his apartment. This was the last week of him living here before he officially moves in with you and you both were ecstatic. Last week you’d have to see his face, last week you’d have to be in constant fear that he’ll overhear you and Jeno having sex and last week you’d have to even think about him.

“We’re alone, baby” he pinned your arms down with one hand. “Let me eat you out baby, promise you’ll be good?” You gave in, nodding at the promise of Jenos mouth on you.

“I’ll be good.”

Jeno was talented with his tongue. His technique was unlike any other. He knew how to have you arching into his touch, begging for more, cumming within seconds. You’d describe him as a walking sex god. His way of having you craving more was unmatched. And you don’t think you’ve ever had anyone quite like that before. Not even Donghyuck.

“Stop thinking about that fucker” Your boyfriend frowned, he could read you like a book and you genuinely dont know how he does it “He doesnt matter right now, it’s just you and me baby”

‘I love you, Jeno”

��I love you more than you can imagine, baby”

He kissed you hard, taking your mind off anything you’d been thinking of before. All you could think of Jeno’s mouth on yours, kissing you with everything he had. Within a moment, Jeno had you undressed, laying under him in all your naked glory. Smiling your love drunk smile at him. Jeno trailed kisses down your body, all the way down to your pussy.

“Jeno?” you called out, looking down at him with big, innocent eyes.

“Yes, baby?” he smiled at you sweetly, starting to trail his tongue along your slit, “Pretty, pretty pussy” he mumbled under his breath.

“Please fuck me already, I cant wait anymore. I need you in me” You pleaded, knowing your boyfriend would do anything but deny you anything.

“God, I love you. Anything for you baby” He took no time before hovering over you again, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. “My angel, all mine.”

“She’s yours?” A voice suddenly interrupted you, a voice that was all too familiar. Jeno’s body hurriedly covered yours, protecting you from the eyes of the intruder.

“Donghyuck, get the fuck out” Jeno spat.

“No, If i remember correctly, she’s mine”

“I was never yours,” You countered, pulling Jeno onto you closer.

“Oh yeah? You want me to show you the video? As far as i know, your little boyfriend here still hasn’t seen it”

You felt Jeno freeze, “What video?” Jeno asked you, looking at you with nothing but confusion in his eyes.

Donghyuck kissed his teeth, “Oh, guess I shouldn't have brought that up right now. right, Y/N?”

“Donghyuck, just get the fuck out.”

Jeno pulled away from you as soon as Donghyuck left.

“What video?” He repeated, looking into your eyes with the same hurt that you once looked into his with. “Donghyuck recorded a video of us the last time we fucked, it was at his parents house on christmas, remember? Well, basically in the video he made me say I’m his forever. And he wont stop blackmailing me with it”

Jeno sighed. “He's blackmailing you?”

“Yeah, look.” you reached for your phone to find the messages Donghyuck had sent you the other day. You looked away from Jeno, feeling ashamed from the whole situation. Donghyuck apparently lived to humiliate you, never letting you catch a break from his antics.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” He hugged you, pulling your naked body against his own. “You could’ve told me sooner, I could’ve dealt with him myself” Tears were threatening to slip from your eyes, feeling overwhelmed by Jeno’s loving words and Donghyuck’s bullshit.

“But i couldn’t, Jeno” Full on sobbing now, you let the tears fall freely down your cheeks. “I was too scared, he’s insane Jeno” Jeno just hummed, rubbing your back reassuringly.

“You’re not mad?” You asked

“It’s not fair of me to be mad, this happened before we were dating, it’s not fair for me to hold that against you.” He smiled, pulling away to look at your red, puffy, tear stained face. “My baby. Not his, I promise I’ll get us out of here as soon as i can”

donghyuck: i heard u and ur little bf were on a break donghyuck: i think i have some ways to make your break worthwhile babe

you: i'm not your babe. donghyuck. you: plus, you’re the reason we’re on break in the first place. you: dont contact me again, please.

donghyuck: you know you miss me y/n. donghyuck: don’t you miss the way i made you go crazy? donghyuck: remember the time in my car? after i caught you kissing that fucking loser chenle? donghyuck: you were on me like you needed me to breathe. you can’t even deny it. donghyuck: now open the door baby, i’m outside.

You were quick to open the front door, seeing Donghyuck standing infront of you with that stupid fucking smirk on his face. He knew that was your weakness. He knew he was your weakness.

“Miss me?” You hated his cocky tone. You hated that you actually opened the door for him. You hated that you actually did miss him. He let out a chuckle at your silence, he knew how to read you like none other. Not even Jeno.

“C’mon, let me in. You know you want to” You hated yourself for actually stepping aside and allowing him into your house, into your safe space. Memories of the endless nights you spent crying over him in the safety of your own house all blurry.

“H-Hyuck..”

“Oh? We’re back to Hyuck now?”

“Is it bad that I want you to kiss me right now?” Your words were hushed but loud enough for him.

“Yeah?” You nodded, looking down at your feet, too scared to look at him. “Why don’t you beg for it? Since you like to do that a whole lot hmm?” He smiled when he heard you whimper, inching closer to you slowly until he was close enough to wrap his arms around you.

“Are you gonna beg or are you gonna make me wait longer?” Immediately, a sob left your lips “Hyuck, please kiss me. I missed your lips on mine so much”

And without another word, his lips were pressing onto yours with the same intensity you craved, the same intensity that once drew you into him. You swear you almost fell for him again when he cups your face, tilting your head up and deepening the kiss. He began walking, lips still on yours forcing you to walk backwards blindly until suddenly you were falling back onto your couch where he followed suit.

You pulled away, admiring the honey skinned man above you with a small smile. “I missed this” A soft smile mirrored the one adorning your face.

“I missed you like crazy, no other girl compared to you”

“Why’d it take you so long to realize?” He paused, staring at you blankly.

“Just– took me a minute..” with a sigh, he leaned down and kissed you again, trailing his hands under your shirt. Grazing your warm skin with his cold hands, sending chills through your body.

“You gonna let me fuck you? Remind you how I'm so much better than your little boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh? Last time I checked you were smitten over that guy”

You hated where this conversation was going so you tried your best to change the topic, “You’re the one about to fuck me right now no?”

“Shut u–” He was cut off by the sound of your phone ringing.

Jeno.

Jeno has given you space for almost a month now. Only sending you messages to check in on you occasionally. All to which you replied positively, ensuring him that you’ll be ready to get back with him soon. In reality though, you were nowhere near getting back with Jeno. You spent nearly every night of the past month in Donghyuck’s bed, either cuddled into him or you under him. Something about the way Donghyuck made you feel was unmatched and you’ll never get sick of saying that.

You stepped into Donghyuck’s kitchen early in the morning, seeing him in just a pair of grey sweatpants with his back turned towards you. It didn’t take long for the waft of the pancakes he’d been cooking up to reach you.

You gawked, “You’re making breakfast?” He turned to you, an unimpressed look on his face (though you could see him fighting a smile.) “Does that surprise you?” and you fought the urge to affirm that it does truly surprise you to see him doing something nice for you.

Instead, you hummed, “No, not really.” With a small smile on your lips, you walked up to Donghyuck who had switched his attention back to the pancakes he had cooking on the stove, wrapping your arms around his bare torso. His skin was soft and warm under your touch.

“Good morning, angel” He hummed, placing a hand over yours. The two of you swayed in a comfortable silence. This is how times with Donghyuck usually went, quiet and calm until he was suddenly kissing up on you, feeling up on you or begging to be inside you.

“You wanna sit and wait at the table for me?” You chirped a “sure” and detached from him, making your way over to the dining table, sitting down on your favourite chair.

baby <3: good morning angel baby <3: can i see you today? baby <3: i miss you, wanna hear your voice so bad :(

you: of course you can :) you: actually, let me just call you right now. you can still come over later tho :P

It didn't take long for an incoming call from Jeno to come through.

“Good morning angel” You could hear his smile through the phone. A smile creeping up on your own face just from picturing the beautiful smile adorning his face. “Good morning, handsome” He chuckled, “You sleep well?”

“You could say that..” You trailed off, thinking of the way you were cuddled into Hyuck last night, the warmth of his body keeping your own body warm. You slept better than you have in a while.

“I miss sleeping with you” Jeno admits, the pout in his voice too obvious. You frowned, feeling the guilt take over you.

“You can stay the night tonight if you want” You lowered your voice, hoping Hyuck wouldn’t hear all the way in the kitchen.

“Oh, no, I still want to give you space! I think i’d be impeding a little if I were to stay the night”

“I don't think so, you’re welcome to stay”

You heard him sigh in relief, “Okay then, I’ll come by in a bit.”

“See you soon, angel.”

You bid your farewells and that's when you noticed Hyuck walking into the room. “Who was that?” He questioned, setting the two plates of pancakes down. You broke eye contact with him, focusing your attention onto the pancakes in front of you.

“I asked you something, you know?”

“It was Jeno.”

He hummed, wordlessly digging into his own plate of pancakes. You felt so guilty. This isn’t where you belonged. You belong next to Jeno, in his arms, under him, near him. You belong with Jeno. Someone who treats you like a proper human. But you found yourself running back to Donghyuck and you hated it. Worst part of it all? Donghyuck didn’t even know you and Jeno aren’t officially broken up. You’d been too scared to tell him, too scared of the possibility of losing Donghyuck in your life. So you’d decide it’s best if he doesn’t know your relationship with Jeno. It’s not even like it matters, right?

“What the actual fuck” Jeno gawked, looking down on his phone screen. He’d originally planned for today to be a rest day after the hell of a day he had at work yesterday but his peace was disrupted when suddenly he got a text from his ex roommate.

donghyuck: hey jeno donghyuck: its me donghyuck donghyuck: i know you might hate me right now but you might wanna see this. donghyuck: [attachment: 1 video] donghyuck: before you come for me, i had no clue you guys weren’t officially broken up at the time of this donghyuck: im sorry jeno.

Attached was a video of a girl, naked body on all fours as the person behind the camera (presumingly Donghyuck) pounded into her from behind. The problem? The problem was the girl had the same hair as you, the same body, the same everything as you. Even that little tattoo on your shoulder that read “delicate” in a beautiful cursive font that Jeno had helped pick out. Everything was you.

jeno: donghyuck. jeno: thanks for this… i genuinely can't believe it.

Within a heartbeat, Jeno was pulling up your contact.

baby <3: hi angel baby <3: can i come over? i left my hoodie at ur house and i need it

you: sureeee thing! you: let me know when ur abt to reach <3

Jeno, furious, hurriedly grabbed his keys and got in his car. He thought after what you’d been through, you’d know how it feels to get your heartbroken like this. He’d expected you of all people to be better than this but no, you had to be the absolute worst of them all. He thought maybe you of all people would keep his heart safe but no, you clearly gave no fucks about him or his heart.

He managed to calm down by the time he got to your apartment. Breathing in and out before ringing the doorbell.

“Hi Jen!” You chirped, allowing him in. You were wearing an oversized shirt that exposed your newly tattooed shoulder. The same tattoo that was visible in the video. Jeno’s heart sank the more he looked at you. The girl he once gave his heart, his love, his everything to, is the one who he’s currently dreading speaking to. In other words, he hates you right now. Hate was one word he would’ve never imagined using with you.

“You okay, love?” you frowned, wrapping your arms around him tightly, pulling him close into you. He hated the innocent look on your face as you peered up into his own. He had a soulless look in his eyes. “I’m fine,” He forced a tight lipped smile, peeling your arms off him. “I’m gonna– uh, grab my clothes.”

You watched as he walked into your room and went straight for your closet, rummaging through to find his hoodie.

“Jeno” You started, walking into the room behind him. “What’s wrong? Talk to me baby,”

Jeno sneered, turning around to look at you with narrowed eyes. “What's wrong Y/N?” His voice raised, he wasn't yelling but it was clear that he was upset. “What’s wrong is while I gave you space to figure out your shit with Donghyuck, you went out and were fucking him. While continuing to lead me on. Isn’t that wrong, Y/N? Don’t you think I deserve any loyalty? Any love in return? While I sat here, impatiently waiting for you to come back to me, you were taking advantage of it and fucking the reason we were on break. Don’t you remember how we met in the first place? All those nights I spent being a shoulder for you to cry on, being there for you every step of the way. Don’t you think I deserve anything?” The hurt in his eyes was more than evident. You looked dumbfounded, eyes wide in shock as you stood frozen.

“Jeno–” You cut yourself off, at a loss for words. Sighing in defeat, you gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I felt so incredibly guilty everytime, but something in me just couldn't stop. I hate myself for doing it and you deserve to hate me for it too but I’m so sorry.”

“I loved you, Y/N. How do you think it feels when your girlfriend’s ex fling– or whatever he was, texts you randomly, telling you that your girlfriend had been fucking him the whole time you’d been on break? It’s not a great feeling, I’ll tell you that. Oh, and having to see a video of it? Even worse. I’m sorry Y/N but I don’t deserve this. I gave you my everything and you couldn’t even spare me an ounce of loyalty.”

“Jeno, a-are you leaving me?” He felt like laughing in your face, do you seriously think he’ll stay after this?

“Genuinely, do you think I’d wanna stay after the fact, Y/N? Honestly, I want nothing to do with you anymore. Consider us done.” He gave you that same, tight lipped smile, gathered his belongings and walked out your bedroom door.

“Jeno!” You called out, he stopped in his steps, turning to look at you one last time “I’m so sorry, I love you.” Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.

“No, you really don't. Goodbye Y/N, don’t contact me again, please, for my sake.” And with that, he walked out your door, leaving you broken and in tears. You had no one to blame but yourself. If you hadn’t let Donghyuck in that day, you would have saved yourself from this mess, you would've still have Jeno in your life and you wouldn't be here, crying in your doorway.

Filled with rage, you dialled Donghyuck’s number, he picked up on the second ring.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He spat, you could tell he was angry. “You had me thinking this whole time, you’d broken up but in reality, you were leading on poor Jeno and still fucking me? How do you think that makes either of us feel? I know I did something wrong the first time around but this time? You fucked up, Y/N.”

“Hyuck liste–”

“Don’t call me, Y/N.”

With that, he hung up. Your heart dropped, you felt as if you’d lost it all in the span of under an hour. All that you cared about in life had been ripped out of your hands with no one to blame but yourself. You hated what you’d done, hated what you’d done to these two poor men. Neither of them deserved it, especially Jeno and you had no way of going back in time and fixing it.

#nct smut #jeno smut #nct dream smut #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #nct 127 smut

119 notes · View notes

venomwrites · 18 hours ago

Note

Caitvi having a double date with Timebomb

“The fuck, Ekko?! You painted each other?!”

It’s a surprise when Vi finally staggers back from Piltover’s polished halls. She sure as fuck isn’t supposed to. It’s not part of the plan. Of course Vi doesn’t know there’s a plan. She staggers down all the same. Instead of the broken, screaming woman sliding off the ledge she is the Vi that has appeared throughout Ekko’s life. Brash and loud and a pain in the ass. But she’s alive in this world and that fucking means something. He’s not sure what in the cosmic sense. But when she kicks open the door, he’s pretty sure right now it means she’s about to kick his ass.

“That’s a weird way to say hello,” he spits back.

“You painted my sister!” She accuses.

He’s fucking tired. Sleep is never enough, everything feels sluggish. He doesn’t know if it’s grief or if he managed to fix time and break himself in the process. Ekko’s used to building things from ruins. But it takes time. Right now it’s just frustrating as hell. He’s seen what the world can be, he’s got something to strive for. But that goal feels like when he was a kid and he’d look up at the tall buildings. He can strive for it all he fucking wants. There’s a good chance he’s never going to get it. He’s always cared about possibilities. Even if the odds are against him, there’s still a chance. Now though he knows what is out there. What’s out there and what’s missing here. That is the bitterest pill to swallow for some fucked up reason.

Also his earlobes hurt.

“You’re not here about the paint,” he says.

“Yeah I am,” Vi snaps, “what the fuck? She’s a kid!”

Ekko grinds his teeth. He does not want to talk about this. He doesn’t want to deal with Vi’s protective bullshit. Not when he’s spent all this time listening to Jinx talk about how Vi needs to be up there. Ekko half wanted a sibling most of his life, but the way the pair of them are with each other makes him glad he never had one.

“No, Vi, she’s not!” He erupts finally, “none of us are! When are you gonna see that?!”

Vi stands still. She’s pissed but Ekko knows she needs to hear it. Someone has to tell her. Tell her in a way that gets through her thick skull so they can all start to heal. He’s not an idiot, he knows how Jinx is without her sister. Both of their plans are stupid. They always have been. That’s why one winds up in jail and one winds up in hell. And then they just fucking switch places, cry about it and switch again. Ekko is tired of listening to stupid ideas.

Vi is suddenly in his face. Still with that miserable look on her eyes. She reaches out slowly and bats away his hand when he tries to stop her. She pinches the corner of his ear between her thumb and her forefinger. Gently but it’s enough to make him hiss.

“Geez Ekko, this is infected,” she says. Ekko wants to yell at her, “you do this yourself?”

“No.”

“Seriously? Your ear?” She peers around his head, “both of them? When did you two have the time?”

“I don’t know, how long does it take you to fuck your girlfriend?” He questions.

Vi glares but doesn’t drop his ear. She shoves her hands into her pockets and pulls out a little bottle. The clear gel she swipes around the fresh earrings make his ears sting but it’s also nice and cool. She huffs again and turns to do the other one.

“I was in prison and managed to keep mine not infected,” she mutters.

“Yeah? How’d you manage that?”

“Salt packs,” she says.

She hands him the bottle. Some nice Piltie thing filled with the clear gel. Ekko wants to smack her hand away but he recognizes the peace offering for what it is. It feels like he’s back in the peaceful version of the world for a moment. Where the divides between the cities aren’t that great. He realizes abruptly that in this world Vi has actually managed to bring some of that here. She crossed that divide without even thinking. Right out of prison, back when they were all too stupid to see what was going on.

Ekko knows it’s because she didn’t do it alone.

“How’s the Piltie?” He asks.

“Better,” Vi says evasively. Ekko rolls his eyes, “I didn’t come here to talk abut her!” He just keeps staring at Vi, “I don’t know!” Vi says throwing up her hands. She drags her hand through her hair. Her bad arm moves seamlessly. Another Piltover souvenir, “she’s talking about giving up her council seat. She’s barely eating. All those fucking fancy Piltie doctors do is try to get her to talk. She doesn’t like talking about her feelings.”

Ekko sighs.

This is part of being a leader.

“Sounds like she needs you,” he says cutting through Vi’s bullshit, “up there.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me,” Vi says.

“So don’t talk,” Ekko suggests, “seriously she kicked you out and your solution was to come all the way down here? Go back there and—“ he hesitates a moment, “just sit with her until she does.”

Vi sighs, shoves her hands into her pockets and rocks back on her heels. For a moment Ekko feels like a kid caught doing something wrong. Even though he hasn’t and Vi’s already yelled at him for what she suspects. It’s not about the paint or the earrings. It’s about Jinx. Jinx let him touch her when she wouldn’t let Vi touch her. Ekko knows Vi hates that. He feels weird about it when he thinks on it too long. Not because of Vi—or not only because of Vi. It’s all their history together. But he said what happened, what he saw. And Jinx believed him way more readily than he would have believed her. It’s weird and knotted and not something he wants to think about too hard.

“Sit with her until she does,” Vi repeats.

“Yeah,” he says, “it’s fair—“

There’s a snap around his wrist.

Piltie cuffs.

The other locks around Vi’s own wrist.

“The fuck?”

“Sorry, little man,” Vi says, the nickname slipping out, “I’m not going back alone.”

“So you handcuff me?!”

“Handcuff us,” she says, dangling her wrist up, “maybe one day we can walk together normally,” Ekko reaches for his key but only hits the skin that shows above his pants, “next time maybe get a full shirt.”

“Shut up!”

Vi drags him up and away. Ekko plans his escape. He hates walking. Hates walking the Lanes most of all. It reminds him of his failures and the past. When he flies he can leave it all down here. Up there none of it can catch him. Now he drags through the muck. What catches him off guard is the newness he sees popping up. New cans of paint, fresh tarps, resources. Vi catches his stunned gaze and offers a grin as they make their way past. Ekko nearly falls flat on his face trying to get a good look. He wants to drink it all in. But Vi is determined. She drags him up past where the buildings nicer and into a private box.

“We should have taken my board,” he grumbles as it pulls them higher.

“I wasn’t letting you anywhere near that thing.”

He scoffs.

Hesitates.

He doesn’t know if he wants to know. Maybe that makes him weak. But what’s the right way to ask what version of someone is awake? It doesn’t really matter. After what he did Jinx and Powder both probably want him dead. He messed up the plan. Instead of flying her out of here like he was supposed to he was unconscious. She sailed out of that air duct with no-one to catch her. He let her down again. He could have gone with her, maybe he should have. But all he could think when he saw her being carted off by fancy doctors with Vi’s hand tight in hers was that maybe she too had a chance at getting away. He’d messed up her trust enough. Something must show in his face.

“She started talking to Isha two nights ago,” Vi says.

“Two nights?!” He demands.

“I’ve been trying to find you!” Vi snaps, holding up her wrist again.

“Why didn’t you start with that?!” He demands. She shrugs and rubs the back of her neck, “what��s she saying?”

“She’s telling her about you,” Vi says.

She drags him through the shiny halls of a building flooded with sunlight. He knew Vi wouldn’t let her be thrown into a cell. There are guards everywhere though. But they are guards who nod at Vi even through the disgust on their face. She brings him to a door and undoes the cuff. She hesitates a moment before knocking and opening it up. Ekko hesitates at the sound of whispering. What if he makes this worse again?

“Jinx? It’s Vi. I brought someone to see you,” the whispering stops.

Vi reaches for him but he bats her hand away and forces himself forward.

Jinx is crouched in the far corner. Her entire head is cased in white bandages. They match her pale skin and the white garment they’ve put her in. The room is completely devoid of color. The only color is her purple eyes. They regard him from underneath the bandages, surrounded by bruises. She blinks twice and looks to her side like she’s looking for someone. But then like she always does, her eyes flick over and focus on him. Vi inhales sharply when she gets to her feet and makes her way over.

“I thought you died,” she says simply. It’s hard to swallow, “you were supposed to be there.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says. Her fingers tap his hand and then snatch back. Unsure. He now knows more about the war in her head, but that doesn’t make it any easier, “I broke time.”

“How?”

“Turned it back longer than four seconds,” he says. Her lip curls, “A lot longer.”

“So you made it a bomb,” she says, “did it work?”

“We’re here aren’t we?”

She freezes and looks around. He feels behind him in Vi’s general directly and pushes. His hand hits some part of her that stands hard and unyielding and needs to get the fuck out. Before Ekko can look he feels her withdraw. Then it’s just him and Jinx in the white room. Her hand goes out and back and out in something that almost looks like she’s swinging her arm. Then it streaks out and latches onto his wrist. He turns his hand as she walks her fingers to his palm and clenches theirs together. Her lips tremble and she looks up at him.

“It fell apart again,” she says, her voice steadier even as her lips tremble, “I fucked it up.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, gripping her shoulder. She tenses at the contact and but her eyes remain stubbornly focused on him, “I fucked it up too. I broke time.”

“It’s not a competition,” she huffs.

“Good, because I’d win,” he says. Her eyes narrow, “I broke time,” he reminds her.

“Seems fixed now,” she shoots back, “seems—slow,” she glances around the room, something annoyed flickering in her eyes, “I don’t like it in here.”

“Okay,” he says, “let’s get out of here.”

She shivers at the thought. Ekko hates that she’s been trapped in this room for even a moment. Though he recognizes this was the safest place for her, it feels wrong. He doesn’t know what the line is though. Safe and tolerable seem to be on opposite sides of the spectrum for her. He doesn’t even know if he can take her out of here. Maybe they’ve both been locked in the room. Still, he resolves to try. He reaches for the door and tugs. Thankfully it opens. Sunlight spills forward from the massive windows. Jinx hesitates next to him.

“I know it’s a lot,” he says, “lean on me.”

She puts more of her weight on him and something further eases in his chest. They take the few steps out of the room together. Her other hand comes up and covers her forehead as she looks at the bright blue sky. He knows she wants to fly away but for now she just leans on him. Somehow that feels like enough. He sees a seam in the window and shoves it up with one hand. Only a trickle of a breeze comes through but she closes her eyes. The peace on her face doesn’t make him think of the other Powder for once. It makes him think of the cans of fresh paint in the Lanes. The spark of life surrounded by all the darkness. It’s just a spark, just a pair of tearful eyes on a bridge, but it is there. It’s all that matters.

“Can we fly?” she asks.

“We will,” he promises, “but not on an empty stomach.”

Her eyes shoot open and look hopefully at him. He has a feeling even with all the wealth she’s been refusing to eat. Now she looks hungry. It’s something. He looks around for anyone who could bring them food. Maybe he can hid her from Vi long enough to ask. He sees the half cracked door down the hall. Jinx tightens her fingers on him and leans more heavily.

“Can you trust me this time?” He asks.

She hesitates and then nods. He reaches up and eases some of the bandage down to cover her eyes. She leans fully on him but matches his steps as they hobble over to the room. Vi is sitting there with Caitlyn. Who also has bandages over her eyes. She’s sitting perfectly straight, her visible eye staring at her hands. Vi looks anguished next to her, but she is sitting there. Waiting. Ekko keeps Jinx on the other side of the door as he cracks it. Vi’s eyes take in the fingers clenched around his and she pushes herself up.

“I need food,” he hisses.

Vi looks at Caitlyn like she doesn’t know what to do. Ekko gets the distinct impression all three of them are in their own cells. She and Caitlyn seem to be waiting for someone to open theirs. For two people who keep breaking each other out of prison, they are fucking awful at it. He doesn’t have time for them to figure out which key hits the lock in this moment. Not with Jinx laying her head on his shoulder.

“Hey, Piltie—“ he grinds his teeth. Her eye blinks like she’s struggling to hear him. Slowly her her starts to move. “Caitlyn,” he hisses. The blue eye meets his, “you want to help? I need food. For her.”

Caitlyn frowns and Vi lets out a ragged breath. Something that sounds like relief. Caitlyn looks around and reaches for something. Vi grabs the cup on the side of the bed. Caitlyn looks from her to the cup and blinks again before taking it. Their hands brush against each other and there’s a wetness in both of their eyes that Ekko would find gross under any circumstances. Caitlyn drinks and reaches out of Ekko’s view. There’s a hushed exchange and Vi appears with a tray laden with food.

“Finally,” Jinx sighs and Ekko realizes she’s pulled up the bandage. His heart catches as he waits for her to look for one of her ghosts but she just reached out and takes something off the plate, “how’d you get fruit up here?”

No-one seems to know how to answer and Jinx looks between them. There’s something like annoyance on her face at their silence.

“Kiramman’s can get anything,” he says, “how hard did you hit your head?” He teases. Jinx rolls her eyes and immediately leans more against him, “shit—“

“Bring her here,” Caitlyn says and the authority in her raspy voice has him moving before he remember what a bad idea that is, “Vi—“

“I just need to sit,” she grouses. He guides her into the chair but she tangles their feet and somehow he winds up in the chair and she winds up in his lap. She slings and arm over his shoulders and drops her head onto his chest like that’s normal and looks at the pair of them, “how come you got to keep your hair?” She asks Caitlyn.

“She didn’t crack her skull,” Vi blurts out. Jinx nuzzles closer to him. Ekko can feel the start of stubble on her skull where the bandages have rolled up, “she—“

“Lost my eye,” Caitlyn says finally. They both look at each other. The blanket moves and after a moment Vi slips her hand underneath. Just enough to keep their joined hands out of view, “my eye is gone,” Caitlyn says with a bit more firmness.

Jinx sighs and gets more comfortable against him.

“I wanted to steal a ship and fly away,” she complains. Vi’s throat works as Ekko’s heart jumps. But she’s not away. She’s here. Itching her stubble against his neck, “now you look like a pirate,” Vi covers her mouth with her hand. Caitlyn stares at her. Her mouth frowns and the eases, then almost smiles, “too many pirates,” she sighs, “I’m floating.”

Vi lurches forward and peers at her head. But she doesn’t let go of Caitlyn’s hand. Or maybe Caitlyn won’t let her. She and Ekko look at each other and she shakes her head. No sign of bleeding. Maybe she is just tired. It’s not like they have much leeway when it comes to not eating. Though Gods knew she tried to get out of it enough until he figured out how to make it a game she enjoyed. Now he feels her breathing start to even out and realizes she’s fallen asleep. He looks at Vi who seems painfully caught between being a big sister and a girlfriend—between all the roles that have been put on her. So Ekko chooses instead and gets his arm under Jinx’s knees. She doesn’t move when he straightens up.

“Is there a normal room?”

“Yeah,” Vi says.

She gives Caitlyn’s hand a squeeze and pushes up. She leads him two doors in the opposite direction. It’s a small room but there’s clean sheets and a window. He nods and walks over to the window with Jinx in his arms, cracking it open. The fresh air makes her sigh in her dreams. Vi’s gaze is hot on his neck. He knows where her mind is, where his would be too if he didn’t know. If he hadn’t spent those days living his life in three second increments. Vi didn’t. But Vi stands there silently and doesn’t close the window. After another long moment she nods at him and leaves the room.

When he goes to put her down he feels a tug at his hips.

Jinx has stuck her wrist into his belt. Ekko knows he could pull it out. He also knows what she is asking. It takes some maneuvering to get them onto the bed facing each other. But he’s contorted himself through worse. He gets them facing each other. His head high on the pillow, hers low but they fit. He doesn’t bother with the sheets as he pulls her into the confines of his jacket. She sighs and nudges forward more, rubbing her bandaged head under his chin.

“Itchy,” she mumbles.

He curves his hand up and rubs against the bandages along he skull. She sighs and buries herself even closer, working one of her legs between his. It’s new and familiar at the same time. She likes to be held like this so when she wakes up she can know he’s there without asking. Without wondering. It makes the ghosts go away. He’s never seen her sleep this deeply though.

“Thanks,” she mumbles into his collarbone. He doesn’t know what she’s thanking him for. But he has a feeling it’s more than scratching her head, “stay?”

“Yeah,” he says, tightening his coat around them both.

She hums and within moments is back asleep. Ekko wants to stay awake but the feel of her breath is hypnotic. Suddenly, it’s like he’s been awake since before he broke time. Like he doesn’t know how to be awake anymore. It’s hard to let go enough to sleep and not guard against the world. But Jinx keeps breathing steadily against his chest. Ekko feels his own breath catching her rhythm. He relaxes further into the beat between them.

It’s always, always a dance.

He never wants it to end.

#timebomb #caitvi #ekko #vi #arcane #arcane spoilers #caitlyn kiramman #jinx

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4linos · 2 days ago

Text

cooking, lying, and loving you.

han jisung x gn!reader

synopsis: you surprise your boyfriend with a home-cooked meal after his long tour, but the dish turns out far from perfect.

wc: 705

After weeks of being on tour, Jisung has finally returned home, and you have been impatiently waiting his arrival. You chose to prepare dinner as a surprise for him because you know how much he must have missed home-cooked meals. Even though you're not very good at cooking, you've spent the entire day planning and putting your all into the dish. You're nervous yet excited, imagining his reaction when he realizes how hard you've worked.

When he walks through the door, the sound of his suitcase rolling across the floor catches your attention. “I’m home!” he calls out, his voice a little tired but warm and full of love.

You rush out to greet him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Welcome back!”

He grins, melting into your embrace. “It smells amazing in here. Did you… cook?” His tone is surprised but genuinely touched.

“Yup!” you say, beaming. “I wanted to do something special for you. Go freshen up—it’ll be ready when you’re done.”

Jisung heads off to change, and you quickly finish plating the food, making sure it looks as good as possible. By the time he sits down, the table is set with candles and everything. You can see how moved he is by the effort.

“Wow,” he says, his eyes wide as he takes it all in. “You did all this for me? You’re amazing.”

You blush at his words. “Anything for you. Now, dig in!”

He grabs his fork and takes his first bite. His attitude somewhat changes, but he masks it with a smile. His nod is a bit too enthusiastic. "Mmm," he adds. "This is so good!" With pride, you smile. “Really? I was worried that things wouldn't work out.” "No, it's delicious!" he insists, taking another bite, although at a slower pace. His thoughts are racing inside.

*It's slightly salty—no, it's really salty. And the texture isn't right. However, they put a lot of effort into this—I can't say anything. I'll simply push through.*

Feeling happy by his obvious enjoyment, you continue to watch him eat. "You really like it?”

“Of course!” he says, washing it down with a big gulp of water. “You did an amazing job.” He clears his plate despite the challenge, finishing with a triumphant smile. “That was so good. Thank you, babe.”

You’re practically glowing from his praise. “I’m so glad you liked it! I was worried it might not be perfect.”

Jisung shakes his head. “It was perfect,” he lies smoothly, leaning back in his chair.

Later, Jisung waits in the doorway, watching you with a sheepish smile as you get ready for bed. Casually, he scratches the back of his neck and says, "Hey." "Yes?" You look at him in the mirror and hum. "Well, I He took a step closer and says, "I have something to tell you.”

Curious, you turn around. "What is it?" After he pauses, he starts laughing. "Alright, don't be upset,

but the dinner wasn't that good."

Your jaw drops as you process his confession. “What?! You said you loved it!”

“I didn’t have the heart to tell you!” he defends himself, laughing so hard he’s clutching his stomach. “You looked so proud, and I couldn’t ruin the moment!”

You grab a nearby pillow and playfully hit him with it. “Babe! I can’t believe you lied to me!”

He tries to dodge, laughing harder. “It wasn’t a lie—it was… creative encouragement! You worked so hard, and I really did appreciate it!”

You can’t help but laugh along with him, even as you give him another light whack. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me,” he teases, catching your hand mid-swing and pulling you close.

“Barely,” you joke, rolling your eyes.

He grins, leaning his forehead against yours. “Next time, we’ll cook together, okay? That way, you can’t accuse me of lying.”

“Deal,” you say with a smirk. “But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily.”

Jisung kisses your cheek, still chuckling. “Fair enough. Just know that I’ll always finish whatever you make—even if it’s… memorable.”

You both laugh as you settle into bed, teasing each other until the night is filled with warmth and joy, the imperfect dinner already a funny memory to share.

—

nini’s notes!! 112724

heyy. i hope you all have a good thanksgiving tomorrow (if you celebrate, of course). i’m so ready for this year to be over 🤧.

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

-🎀

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clownzaf · 3 days ago

Text

I know that people love to headcanon Tim as a child of Athena, I personally like to headcanon him as child of Hades due to his similarities with Nico and the fact that dead seems to follow that kid like a motherfucker but never actually reach HIM.

But hear me out.

Tim as a child of Dionysus. And he gets claimed during the Bruce-quest.

When he was in Gotham monsters were a usual thing. You never knew that they were there for your godly blood, you just thought that they were things created by pollution or something like that. And when he became Robin fighting things that wanted to kill you while saying weird things was more usual than a hug (not that that was a hug standard for Tim).

But then everyone started dying. His parents, Kon, Bart, Steph, BRUCE. Everyone. Every. One.

And Tim…Tim couldn’t seem to reach madness. I mean YEAH he wasn’t doing great by any standard, but he knew madness, he grew up in madness, and he wasn’t going mad.

The cloning was just a treat.

And during the Bruce-quest, everyone thought he was crazy, he was casted away because everyone thought he was crazy CRAZY Tim can’t he crazy! He knows that! He knows that in his blood that going crazy isn’t a chance for him. He made everyone crazy when they were around him (hence Jason. He knew that Jason was mad at him from the start, but going near Tim lighted a flame inside him that Tim is sure isn’t completely Jason’s) but Tim couldn’t go crazy. He could ACT crazy. But never too serious.

And then, in the depths of Greece, he met his dad. His real dad.

He always knew that Jake wasn’t his dad. The blonde hair his mother forced him to dye since he was 5 and the purple eyes his father forced him to hide with contacts told him that. But Tim grew up looking up at Jack, even if Jack didn’t love him, he was the dad that decided to (figuratively) stay. And Tim loved him till death.

But when that man appeared, Tim knew, with only a moment of stares, that that man was his father. They talked a bit, too. The man knew about everything Tim was doing, and that creeped Tim out, but when the man made appear a glass of wine for Tim (and one side for himself) and Tim drank it, he knew what he was.

Something on the flavor, on the feeling. It was Tim. It was home. Something he hadn’t feel in a long time.

He spent the rest of the quest feeling sure that he would make it, because somewhere on the heavens his dad was looking out for him, he promised he was. And this time it wasn’t a figuratively sentimental bullshit. His dad was really helping on the heavens. And Tim was gonna make it.

He saw him again when the quest ended. He appeared in all of his godly glory while Tim was living in the nest. He opened a can of soda and sat on his couch like he wasn’t a man Tim has only met twice, but that was ok, because that was his dad, and he was choosing to visit him. (Also, he wasn’t going to say no to a literal GOD) .

He yapped for two hours about the kids at the camp his dad forced him to work at ( “HE IS SUCH AN A-HOLE SOMETIMES TIM YOU DONT UNDERSTAND-“) and the more he talked about that camp, the more invested Tim got. At the end of it the man, his dad, just looked at him in the eye and said “y’know if you were there we could do this more often. Yer a better listener than that centaur. Also, I think your brothers would like having you there”

He leaves immediately for camp after that. The family thinks Tim decided to leave them for not believing in him, so it’s a shock when he comes back after the summer being great with a sword and with a Tan his skin haven’t known before, not even after fighting crime during the hottest days on San Francisco, and he was happy, like actually happy. A kind of happy he never was with them.

Tim made friends there. He was friends with Annabeth, a girl from the Athena cabin, who honestly thought that Tim was one of them after they had a talk about strategies on the field and all that, and was about to fist fight Dionysus for claiming one of her brothers. She still called him brother, but now she understood that Tim was a Dionysus kid. And her boyfriend Percy. They talked all night about the weight of being a leader and having your people die without you being able to do anything. Percy talked about a boy named Ethan and two girls named Zoe and Bianca. Tim talked about Steph, Kon and Bart.

Tim told him about the Bruce-quest, and Percy told him about the time he was ready to fist fight a good to get his mother back from the underworld.

He also fully loved his brother. Pollux was great and made him feel welcomed to camp. They talked during lunch and Pollux showed him every single thing that made camp especial. He also teached him how to make fun of their dad without turning into a dolphin, so yeah. They got along like a house on fire.

He also made friends with a girl from the Aphrodite cabin. Her name is Drew. She was kind of an asshole and tried flirting with him, and THEY DID GET TOGETHER FOR A BIT, but after some time they decided they were better as friends. And friends they were. Best friend even.

He never told the Batfam any of this.

So after some months in Gotham there’s a cult going around calling themselves “Children of Dionysus” and doing atrocious things.

Duke walked in on Tim trashing the training room of the cave, and later on Jason walked in on Tim having his fourth bottle of wine.

Tim was FURIOUS. Not only that was disrespectful to his dad, but to his brother and himself too. He was going to pick every part of that little cult and trash it.

There he meets Bernard. Then they get on a relationship.

When a sathyr comes to take Bernard to camp Tim goes with him, excited to have his dad meeting his boyfriend.

Dionysus has never been more uncomfortable than when he had to claim his son’s boyfriend in front of him. It wasn’t that hard before! But now they had those things against incest on the human world and he knew this wouldn’t be pleasant to any of his sons.

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beuxwhoyouare · 18 hours ago

Text

Ready to Go

I always thought I would die young. I just don’t forsee a long life ahead for me. It’s not like sad or anything I just think I’ve done all I wanted to. There’s never been like a dream job or goal I’ve ever foresaw in my future. It’s not depression or anything, if anything I think more people should be honest with themselves about being useless and just tapping out of a long life of nothingness.

See. You’ve read this long and didn’t even notice I haven’t mentioned my name. That’s because like my life, my name is equally inconsequential.

I was pondering about ways to easily tap out of life while I sat at the bus stop waiting. Eventually I got on the bus at my usual stop to take me to my usual destination when an older white man slowly waved his hand in front of my wandering gaze.

“What’s out there?” he feebly asked in a weak voice.

I’ve never been asked something on my route before. I kinda just zone out into my own mind like this and-

“Hey kid. You keep zoning out are you okay?” he interrupted my internal thought.

It’s like he knew I was talking to myself but how?

“I’m just in my own head. Sorry did you want the window seat?” I finally replied audibly.

“No. Just making sure you’re okay. Was worried you were one of those druggies or something. Whole life ahead of you and you youngins just throw it all away.”

What a presumptive thought. He really believes that young people can’t have a complex and existential inner dialogue. I think older people don’t give us enough credit. I’m complex, I think.

*hehe*

What’s he laughing at. Wait maybe he is listening to my inner dialogue? Let’s see. Lemme think of something and see how he responds. I don’t want to die, I just want to peacefully tap out of the game of existence.

Damn nothing? He isn’t going to say anything? I’m losing my mind.

“Where do you want to go in life kid?”

HE HEARD ME I KNEW IT!

“I mean let’s say you manifested it enough. Maybe I’m here to help you move on. The worst thing you can do is live a life unfulfilled. It seems like that’s how you’re living.”

“You can’t be serious…What can you do?”

“It’s not really me, more like a pact to the deities that rule existence. It’s the law of the land. Everything in this world is all about balance. Even our lives, if one aspect is out of balance it could throw the whole world out of whack.”

“So what’s out of balance? Just because I’m tired of being aimless in life? It’s not like I’m the only aimless one right?”

“Maybe you’re not the only one, but you’re the only aimless one put in my life. I have so much I wanted to do but spent too much time wasted. I wanted kids, I wanted love, I wanted it all but got sick and spent years withering away in a hospital bed.”

….why is he telling me all this? What can I do about the law of the land? If I could help him I would but he’s talking about myths and hocus pocus.

The bus made an abrupt stop next to a big park near a historical reserve in town. The old man grabbed my arm and dragged me with him off the bus, across the street to the park.

“Dude your boney arm is hurting me. I’ll follow you just let me go”

“We’re here anyway. I can feel one of the deity’s presence around us. All you have to do is say your true hearts desire out loud for it to become true. You can’t move on and I can get a chance to fix my life’s shortcomings.”

My true hearts desire? Doesn’t he get it my problem is I don’t have a desire. There’s nothing fueling me.

“That! Say that out loud.”

“I KNEW YOU COULD HEAR ME! But how?”

“Your inner dialogue was calling to me like a siren. I’m telling you I was meant to hear it. To run into you! This moment was meant to happen.”

Honestly resisting the occult is too much work anyway. I don’t know why I’m even poking and prodding into his story. What is it going to do for me in the end? He’s offering me a way out.

“I don’t have desire. I don’t have a goal. I’m not sad, I’ve lived an okay life but I’m done.”

“I want a real chance to live life. I payed my dues. Please all I ask for is a real chance.”

If felt like all the sounds of nature stopped. The sun suddenly disappeared and it felt like a spotlight appeared above us. All I could see was the old man when he disappeared in front of me. It all disappeared in front of me. Then silence. Well everything was silent from then on. My request to tap out was granted.

“Keven. I like that name, I definitely look like a Keven now. This is a good place to start I think?”

I feel bad that a young person could fall out of love with existing. There’s so much young people have to live for and he just wanted to die? I’ll live the best live for the both of us.

I’m quite the looker now too so that should probably help on the having kids and starting a family front. Although he’s a little short for my liking. You know what no I’m going to be grateful for this new life I’ve been given. There’s still some memories in my head that belong to him. I think he might be gay….well I never got to explore those things in my time but it doesn’t help the kids dream.

Whatever I think starting today I’m going to be Bi. I’m gonna search through these memories and continue working out. Seems like it has a positive impact on people’s outlook and morale. Maybe that’s where the kid went wrong. He didn’t seek ways to be happy. I’m choosing happiness and choosing to be fulfilled.

Let’s start by jerking this thick beer can growing under my shorts though…and maybe seeing if this hot couple in the gym might want a newly confident Latino twunk third.

#identity theft #gay #male body possession #body possession #racial transformation

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daisymbin · 24 hours ago

Note

45. "you really trust me with your secrets, huh?"

y/n drunkenly confesses to Chan after a night out with their friends

!!! thank you for requesting 🫶

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // chan's m.list

fluff prompt #45: "you really trust me with your secrets, huh?"

you’re tipsy, wobbling slightly as chan steadies you with a hand on your shoulder. the others had scattered after your group night out, and somehow, the task of walking you home fell to him. not that he minded.

“you don’t have to do this,” you say, words slightly slurred but still sweet. “i can walk home myself.”

“you could barely walk down the stairs without holding onto me,” he teases, a grin tugging at his lips. “what kind of friend would i be if i just left you?”

“a bad one,” you reply immediately, leaning into him like you already trust him more than anything.

the quiet buzz of the city fills the space between you two, and chan keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. your cheeks are flushed, whether from the alcohol or the cool night air, and you’re humming a little tune he doesn’t recognize.

“what are you humming?” he asks, mostly just to keep you talking.

“something you’d like,” you reply cryptically, then giggle like you’ve said something funny.

chan shakes his head, amused but also hyper-aware of how close you are to him, how your warmth is seeping into his side. he’s spent plenty of nights like this with you, but something feels different. maybe it’s the way you’re looking at him, all soft and unguarded.

“you’re quiet tonight,” you say suddenly, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to look up at him.

“am i?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck.

you nod. “you usually talk more. always making me laugh. i like that about you, you know.”

chan feels his heart do a little flip at your words. he brushes it off with a laugh, trying to keep things light. “guess i’m just tired from carrying everyone’s drinks tonight.”

you narrow your eyes at him like you don’t quite believe him but let it go, resuming your unsteady steps.

“can i tell you a secret?” you ask after a moment, your voice quieter now.

chan glances at you, his brows furrowing. “a secret? is this something i’ll have to take to the grave?”

“maybe,” you say, and there’s a teasing edge to your tone, but your expression is serious.

“go for it,” he says, his curiosity piqued.

you stop walking again and turn to face him, your gaze locked on his like you’re trying to decide something. chan feels his chest tighten under the intensity of it.

“i like you, chan,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “like… really like you. a lot.”

chan blinks, completely frozen as he processes your words. you’re still looking at him, vulnerable and unsure, and it hits him all at once—this isn’t a joke, and it’s definitely not just the alcohol talking.

“you… really trust me with your secrets, huh?” he says finally, his voice coming out softer than he intended.

you nod, looking down at your feet. “you’re the only one i’d want to tell.”

chan doesn’t know what to say. his heart is pounding, and his head is spinning, but not in the way he’d expect. because somehow, despite the shock, it feels… right.

“hey,” he says, stepping closer to you. you look up, your eyes wide and a little glassy.

“if this is some kind of drunken mistake—”

“it’s not,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “i’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but i was too scared. it just… it feels easier now. maybe its the drinks.”

chan feels his lips curve into a smile, his heart swelling with something he can only describe as pure happiness.

“you really like me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nod again, your cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red.

chan doesn’t think—he just reacts, pulling you into a gentle hug. you tense for a moment before melting against him, your arms wrapping around his waist.

you pull back just enough to look at him, your eyes searching his face like you’re trying to make sure he’s serious.

“is it okay if i continue to like you?”

“only if-,” he pauses, laughing softly, “only if its okay for me to continue liking you too.”

you smile then, and it’s the kind of smile that makes him think he’d do anything to see it again.

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wandaslittlelove · 2 days ago

Note

Heyyy I don’t know if you write for Protective!Agatha Harkness but if you do

Can I request Agatha x reader?? Maybe they in a romantic relationship before the road. In the final battle, Agatha asks to reader to close her eyes for her because everything is too violent. Also, indicate Reader to run when she orders without looking back but Reader stays because she wants to help Agatha 😭😭

Close Your Eyes

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader, Agatha harkness x Rio vidal (In past) Warnings: Fighting, blood, I think that's all

“Close your eyes” Agatha whispers gently as her hands come up to your face. She’s injured and bleeding. The tiny cuts all over her body aren’t enough to do any real harm but they’re enough for her to feel them. Her fingers wipe away the tears that fall down your face. “Close your eyes and when I tell you to go you run. You run and don’t look back, do you understand?” a whimper made its way past your lips as you gripped her shirt tightly. You both knew it was only a matter of seconds before Rio came back.

Billy stood a few steps back ready to blast Agatha whenever she was ready. He had never seen her like this. The closet would be when he was almost about to die while on the road but he thought it was all a show. But now seeing how gentle she was with you and the way she was scared he knew that she had a heart.

Rio made her way out of the home ready to strike. Agatha quickly moved you out of the way.

“Close your eyes. Now” You did as told. You could hear Billy grunting a bit as Agatha drained his magic. After a moment of fighting and lots and lots of insults being thrown back and forth a single word escapes Agatha’s mouth. “Run!” She yells. Your mind tells you to obey. To run and not look back. But suddenly it’s like you can’t move. Instead your eyes fly open. Agatha looks a lot better. She’s no longer covered in so many cuts but she is very clearly worn out. She isn’t used to battling anymore. Not after the three years she spent powerless. Before you know it you're throwing your body infront of Agatha’s. Rio stops as her posture stiffens. As much as she hates you for stealing Agatha’s heart. From taking her from her this fight is between the three of them. She does not want to face whatever consequences would come from taking you before it was your time. For a moment everything is silent. Your brain moves so fast it’s hard to keep up with all the thoughts. You can feel Agatha trying to pry into your mind. To figure out what you're thinking and planning but you block her out.

“Take me.” You say desperately. You honestly didn’t care that much for the teenager. He had caused such a mess. Gotten two of your coven members killed. But Agatha liked him. Agatha cared for him and you would be damned if she lost another son. Agatha quickly grabs onto your arm as she pulls you back.

“Absolutely not. You will take me and leave them be.” Rio looks conflicted for a moment before her face hardens once again. She brings her hands back and then with a harsh punch forward green magic goes flying towards Agatha. A scream escapes you as you shout.

“NO!” Quickly you jump in front of the incoming magic. The force of it sends you flying backwards harshly into a tree. Your whole body aches as you attempt to move. Once more trying to get up and defend Agatha. But her magic wraps around you holding you down.

“Stop Stop! Let’s… Let’s make a deal.” Her eyes shoot over to you as her magic continues to hold your place. There is blood running down the side of your head and your blink slowly at her. “You leave us be. And when a long time from now when I die. You can have me.” You go to say something but her magic keeps you quiet. Rio seems to ponder this all for a moment. Her eyes scanned all three of you. Billy had come to your side by now making sure you were okay. The air thick with tension as you all awaited Rio's response.

“Okay. When you die, which you will. You’ll be mine. Maybe I'll let you keep the pet.” Her words are venomous at the end as she glances at you but there is a bit of curiosity in her gaze. “Till then my love.” With that Rio plants a few flowers and then walks away. The sky that was once green and dark goes back to normal as she leaves. Agatha lets out a sigh of relief as she quickly rushes to your side.

“You are so stupid” She hisses as she crouches next to you. She inspects the wound on your head and when she decides it’s not as bad as it looks she picks you up carefully. Your body screams in protest and you let out a whimper from the pain. “I know doll but I need to get you inside and cleaned up.” She carried you slowly towards the house and Billy helped to fix it up with his magic.

Later that night you both lay in bed. Both clinging to each other tightly scared to let go. One hand is softly stroking your hair while the other rests on your heart feeling the steady beat of it. Your head lay on her chest listening to the beat of her heart and you focused on the rise and fall of her chest. You both were safe for now. You both were alive. You knew tomorrow she would go about packing and leaving. Rio knew where she was. You both would run far away. She would find a nice house and place runes around it. She would place runes on you. Anything to keep you safe.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x y/n #agatha harkness #agatha all along #agatha harkness imagine

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not-a-lady-irl · 2 days ago

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Midnight Studies

Pairing: Lilia Vanrouge x reader Summary: You were up until night studying for Mr. Crewell's test, the most feared of all. You swore no one would notice you were awake, seeing as the storm made it muffle all noise. However, you were wrong. Warnings: terrible writing (indeed) Author's Note: I confess the writing wasn't one of the best but in my defense I was exhausted from sleep while writing lol Words: 1.0K

Heavy rain pounded on Diasomnia's dormitory window. The noise of thunder was an addition to all that storm. It was already a habit for you, much less a problem, you loved these nights when these sudden storms joined you in your studies. They gave you a feeling that you weren't alone.

Studying late at night was not an easy task, but with some exams arriving this effort was necessary. Mr. Crewell's test was the next day and you were having difficulty with a specific subject that you were almost certain would be on the test so because of that subject, you were here, now, at 2 in the morning, sitting at the table in the entrance hall, with all your books, notes, notebooks and pens on it, studying.

Oh, and how you were studying.

You needed to get a good grade on this test to pass, you couldn't disappoint your dorm who were known for excelling in almost every subject and activity at school. You also didn't want to be disappointed, believing that you are a burden.

— I think just a few more questions and I can rest.

If it were any other normal night, without rain and thunder, you would be trying your best not to make noise and indicate that you were awake at those hours, but, thanks to the storm, you believed that you wouldn't need that effort.

You gave your notes another quick read and decided it was time to answer the questions, because what better way to practice a subject than by doing exercises on it?

You read the first question. Pause. Think. Read it again. Pause. Think again. Go back to the beginning and get stressed.

— It's not possible… — A tone of despair escapes your lips.

You place your head in the palm of your hand and rest your arm on the table. The material was right there in front of you, you spent the entire afternoon studying it and now the night trying to understand that subject.

Despair takes over you and as a result you end up deciding to stay up all night.

It would be very bad for you, since you would be awake for more than 24 hours, your sleep would be disrupted, your concentration would be low, your energy would be almost exhausted…

You honestly didn't imagine that this would be a problem for both the prefect and the vice prefect of Diasomnia, as you were studying precisely to help the dormitory's reputation! It felt like you were doing it more for them than for you.

— Well, then I think... from the beginning….

Before you could pick up the book again to read, a voice came from behind you.

— How long do you intend to stay up to study?

The voice takes you by surprise. You didn't believe that someone would be awake at that moment to realize that you hadn't gone to bed yet. When you turn back, you found Lilia looking at you with an expression of concern and reprimand.

— It's bad to stay up this late at night, I can't believe you didn't know that. — His voice comes out strict.

He was the last person you imagined would catch you awake.

Nervous, you try to explain yourself and lie saying that you were already leaving.

— I was just reviewing content Lilia, I swear I was going to bed right away! — You give a smile trying to affirm your excuse.

Lilia just stares at you. Obviously he wouldn't go down that easily.

— Since that's the case, I'll remain here until your quick review is over and you go to your room to sleep. — He comes over and sits in the chair next to you — You have five minutes — His lips form an amused smile.

You didn’t know if he was having fun with you or the fake situation you created. Maybe both, who knows.

But now you had no option but to "revise" in five minutes.

You put down the book and pick up your class notes again and read them, still not understanding most of the things that were there.

Time passed and when you least expected it, the brief five minutes had already ended.

— That's it! Time to sleep. — He gets up and pulls you by the hand, taking you to your room.

The weight of not doing well on Mr. Crewell's test made you explain your situation to Lilia, hoping that he would understand and just let you stay awake that night.

— Lilia… please, I can't sleep now. — He stops pulling you and looks at you — Mr. Crewell's test is tomorrow and I haven't managed to understand a specific subject yet… I don't want to do badly and ruin the reputation that my dorm has because of me — The outburst comes out and you anxiously await Lilia's reaction

But all you get is a laugh.

— Do you really think we would lose our reputation because of a test? — He lets go of your hand and approaches you.

— Y/N, the happiness and health of our students is much more important to us. You don't need to try so hard because of this, although I can't deny that it makes me happy to see such a dedicated student at Diasomnia! — He lets out another chuckle.

— But…. Lilia…. — You try to defend yourself again but are interrupted by him pulling you back to your room.

— No more excuses! Time to sleep.

You are led until you stop in front of your room, Lilia patiently waiting to see you enter to confirm to himself that you have indeed gone to sleep.

You let out a sigh and finally enter.

— Good night Lilia. — You say goodbye to him and close the door.

— Sweet dreams, Y/N — Lilia walks calmly towards his room. — I think I should be more careful in case she spends more nights awake....

You couldn't deny it, Lilia's words and the fact that he forced you to go to sleep helped you have a good night's sleep without any worries.

And honestly, it's a good thing he told you to go to sleep, because the test had been canceled thanks to the heavy rain the night before.

#twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #twisted wonderland lilia #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x mc #twst x reader #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #lilia x reader #lilia twst #lilia twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x you

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jisungiesvzz · 1 day ago

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He Won’t Know

Han Jisung x fem!reader

Best friends brother trope (Minho is your brother, Jisung is his best friend)

Warnings: lots of kissing/heavy making out, angst at the end, mood changes quickly, not so happy ending (that’s it I think?)

Word Count: 1.8k (a little over)

Summary: You had fallen for your brother's roommate/best friend, Jisung, and it was getting harder to hide it. You’d managed to suppress your feelings for him but his constant flirting and need to get you flustered didn’t help. You had to spend the week at their dorm due to your roommates lack of spacial awareness, giving you unexpected alone time with Jisung. Will he be able to win you over or will your brother get in the way?

P.S. this is NOT proofread so please lmk if there’s any warnings I missed or spelling/grammar mistakes. Okay now go enjoy the story :)

———————

Your brother Minho shared a dorm with his best friend Jisung. You often spent the night there because your crazy roommate was either always yelling at someone over the phone or had a guy over at the late hours of the night. She had no spacial awareness and constantly left her things all over the kitchen, bathroom and living room.

Most nights you could handle your roommates obnoxious and incredibly annoying nature but some nights, like tonight, you just couldn’t take it anymore.

Your roommate was yelling at her “friend” over the phone and you could hear her from the down the hall. You repeatedly told her to be quiet because you were running on two hours of sleep and had an exam early in the morning and needed some good rest but she just yelled at you and slammed the door in your face. You pulled out your phone and called Minho. It barely made it past the first ring when he picked up.

“Y/n is everything okay?”

You let out a long sigh, “No, everything’s not okay.”

“What happened?”

Although, you hadn’t mentioned your roommate, Minho already had a pretty clear idea of why you were calling.

“I really hate to ask this but…” you paused for a moment unsure if you should continue. You wanted to ask to stay the week so you could get some sleep for your upcoming exams but you felt like you’d be a bother to them for staying that long. After all, you’ve never stayed more than one night. “Can I stay at your place for… the week? I know I’ve never stayed that long but my roommate is being so disrespectful. You don’t have to say yes, I don’t want to bother you guys.”

Minho chuckled humorlessly, taking you a bit by surprise.

“You’ve never been a bother, Y/n. We wouldn’t let you stay over if you were.”

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Y/n, don’t make me go down there and pack your stuff for you,” he playfully threatened. “Because you know I will.”

You giggled to yourself, “Yeah, you totally would. Okay, uh… give me a few minutes then I’ll head over.”

“Be safe and call me when you get here so I can come down and get you,” Minho said.

You hummed in response and ended the call.

You let out a relieved sigh as you headed to your room to pack your bag.

—————

You arrived outside Minho and Jisung’s dorm building, your finger hovering over Minho’s contact. You stared at your phone for a while, feeling a bit nervous now that you were there.

You were caught off guard when you got a text message.

Jisung: I can see you standing outside. You don’t need to be nervous, jagi ;).

You looked up from your phone and saw Jisung sitting on the window frame, looking down at you from his bedroom window. The nickname gave you butterflies but you fought them back as you typed a response.

You: lol I’m not nervous.

Jisung: you’ve been standing there for five minutes… I’d say you’re nervous.

You playfully rolled your eyes at him then headed towards the building. You raised your hand to knock on the door but it opened before you could make contact.

“You got telepathy or something?” You questioned as you looked at Minho.

“Maybe…” he replied rubbing the back of his neck, “Hurry up and get settled in it’s already pretty late.”

You walked in and set your stuff down by the couch. You usually sleep on the couch when you spend the night since the dorm doesn’t have a spare room.

“I’d stay out here with you for a bit but I have an early morning,” Minho said letting out a deep breath.

You looked up from your bags and gave him a tired, reassuring smile, “It’s okay. Go and get your rest.”

Minho gave you one last comforting smile before wandering off to his room. You scavenged your pajamas out of your bag and headed for the bathroom. You changed into your pajamas and opened the door to leave when you were met with Jisung directly outside the door.

You swear your heart skipped a beat as you made eye contact with him.

“Hey…” you whispered a little startled.

“Hey,” Jisung said with a soft smile. He looked you up and down and you shifted from the spot you were standing in. He let out a soft chuckle and a smirk before commenting, “Cute pajamas.”

“Oh- uh thank you,” you replied back a little more flustered than you wanted. He was almost chest to chest with you now and you held your breath.

“Minho told me you’re staying for a week? Is it that bad with your roommate?”

For such a simple statement, his tone was low and sultry, taking you a bit by surprise. Your words were caught in your throat for a moment as you looked up at him. You knew he knew what he was doing to you but you refused to give in.

“Y-yeah it is… I should just live here at this point,” You half-joked.

“Hm, I’m not opposed to it,” Jisung mused leaning impossibly closer.

You didn’t know what to say after that. His body was leaned up against yours now and his lips were inches from yours. You didn’t know how it got to this point but all you wanted to do was kiss him and he knew it. He smirked at your flustered state before closing the gap between you.

The kiss was slow but sloppy, making you melt into him. He placed his hands on your hips and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He squeezed your hips causing you to gasp and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss as his tongue danced around your mouth. His hands slid down to the back of your thighs and squeezed, lifting you up and placing you on the bathroom counter. He broke from the kiss and trailed kisses from your cheek to you jawline, making his way down to your neck. He sucked and licked at your neck and you moaned at the new sensation.

You covered your mouth suddenly remembering that your brother was in the room next door. You knew how wrong this was, even though it felt so good.

“Ji… mmh wait,” you breathed out trying to contain your whimpers. He broke off from your neck and admired the purple mark that was starting to form.

“We can’t- we shouldn’t do this,” you continued.

“Why not, jagi?”

“It’s not right.”

Jisung pressed his tongue against his cheek and let out a breath of air, “It’s because you’re my best friends sister, right?”

You didn’t know what to say. Partially because you didn’t know what he meant from the tone in his statement.

“Ji, it’s not a bad thing but… you know my brother won’t take this well.”

He sighed looking down, “I know, I know. This-” he points his finger between you two, “is forbidden.”

“How I hate unspoken rules…” you mumbled.

Silence fell between the two of you and Jisung nuzzled his face into your neck. He let out a deep breath that you didn’t realize he was holding as you wrapped your arms around his neck, stroking his hair with your hands soothingly. You stayed like that for a few moments before Jisung broke the silence.

“He doesn’t have to find out you know,” his voice was muffled from his face still being buried in your neck.

“What…? What are you implying?” You say furrowing your brows.

Jisung lifted his head from your shoulders to look you in your eyes. His expression was needy but hopeful, like he wanted this to work with you. All those times he flirted with you might of actually meant something. Part of you thought his flirty comments and actions was just for his own entertainment and not because he actually felt something for you.

“I want to be with you. Like really bad. All my flirty comments… they weren’t just to make you flustered.”

He laughed to himself and grinned, “I mean bonus if they did.”

You softly laughed at his comment. Then it hit you. He wanted to be with you and he was serious. You hadn’t realize you had gone quiet.

“Can you please say something?” He whispered, his eyes flickering to look at your lips.

“I… I wanna be with you too, Ji.” You paused shifting on the counter a little.

“You don’t seem like you want it.” His gaze softened and you frowned at his disappointment.

“No I do, I do. It’s just-” you were suddenly cut off by a loud, shocked voice.

“What the fuck?!”

You both turned your heads to find Minho standing in the door way, mouth opened in shock. Jisung immediately ripped away from you as you jumped off the counter top. Jisung started fumbling over his words.

“M-Minho it’s not what it looks like-”

“Really? You’re gonna tell me that after the position I just saw you two in?” Minho retorted taking a step towards him.

“Minho just hear us out,” you chimed in.

“You know what, no,” Minho threw his hands up in surrender, “I don’t want to hear it. This is-” He paused for a second then looked at Jisung causing him to take a step back, “That’s my fucking sister.”

Before either of you could say anything else, Minho turned around to leave, slamming his bedroom door. You and Jisung stood in the bathroom in silence, shocked from the situation. The air became thin and suddenly you couldn’t handle being in the same room as him. You thought coming here would fix your problems but trouble just seemed to follow you here.

“We should talk this out in the morning…” you whispered, your voice slightly cracking.

“Jagi please-”

“Ji, can we please just talk about this in the morning.” You sighed, not wanting to think about the situation further.

Jisung lowered his head with a frown, “Yeah… yeah we can do that.”

You nodded and left the bathroom, leaving Jisung alone.

Author’s Note: The amount of times I rewrote this ending is INSANE. I eventually just gave up so sorry for the semi-abrupt ending. I can attempt a part 2 later… maybe 😐

#han jisung skz #han jisung x reader #han jisung stray kids #han jisung angst #skz minho #stray kids minho #lee know #stray kids #skz han jisung

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kr-starz · 15 hours ago

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Y'know that line, where Felicia says that they're all responsible for taking care of her kids? Vander, Silco, and herself? Specifically Vi because she's her first, but it's the fact that the two (Silco and Vander) are doing what they're doing out of love for Felicia and the kids. They look at them and see a better future for the undercity. Vander took in Vi and Powder because that's what Felicia would've wanted, because she entrusted them to make Zaun a better place in order to raise her kids. Yet, she never got the Zaun that would treat her kids right. But she chose the right people to raise and take care of them as best they can.

The kids barely know their mom, but they've taken every aspect of her being knowingly or not. They're stolen her spirit and they engulf every aspect of who she would've stood for. And Vander raises them with the morals of Zaunian's, he raises both Vi and Powder as best he can; but I like to note how Vi is more-so of Vanders kid, not saying Powder wasn't meaningful to him, I'm just saying Vi spent a lot more time after Vander, and took after him more. This is important seeing as how Violet turns out in the war, but she has so many aspects of Vander it shakes me sometimes.

Silco doesn't take in Vi, but he does take in Powder/Jinx. Powder is the only kid to just encapsulate all of the main trio. Which is why she probably turns out how she turns out. Silco, while he does split paths with Vander, I doubt that he has ill-willed intentions towards Felicia. Hell he probably thinks about her fondly while looking at Jinx. The reason I mention Vi turning out a lot more Vander-like is the fact that Silco has such a long term grudge against Vander that it seems like he see's a lot more of Vander in Vi than Powder; ESPECIALLY after their fight. So that's why he doesn't like Vi that much after all.

So seeing as Powder is more Felicia than Vander, Silco raises her and he raises her how he would. Because Powder is so young when he took her in, she is impressionable and malleable. Easy to convince of things; which brings me to a whole other rabbit hole I can't quite go down, but it's easier for Silco to tell Jinx that her sister left her. Similar to how Vander hurt him and abandoned him (I don't remember this part THAT much I apologize). But it's obvious Silco see's many similarities between Jinx and Vi, with himself and Vander. You know that Jacket scene? Where Jinx finds both Vander and Silco's jacks on the same rack? Where Silco's jacket is tucked neatly beneath Vander almost in a protective way. (That's how I interpreted it at least). It's similar to how Vi has protected Jinx as her older sister. Silco and Jinx get along so well because they're so similar to the other, and it makes sense for Jinx to be raised by Silco instead of Silco taking in Vi for any alt lore swaps.

Jinx is so loved. Not only is she raised by her mother, and her two godfathers, she has a sister willing to go to the earths end for her. She's so loved, yet every moment she's spent not feeling it, it ends up in destruction. And every moment she does feel loved, she feels that doom take over, that inevitability where the cycle of bad luck will happen.

Jinx is like a perfect embodiment of a Zaunian citizen; seeing as how she was raised by Vander, Silco, and Felicia. They all stand for different things in hopes of reaching the same goal. Felicia is given very little screen time, but within that limited time you're able to see that she is the drive, the desire and the hope you find in a person. The drive that makes you want to improve, the drive that makes you want to better the world and fight for it. Vander is the heart of Zaun, he drives it forward by keeping everything afloat, his morals and rules of "we don't turn in our own people" is just plain loyalty. He's the person achieving those dreams by setting the ground rules, he enforces and he keeps the boat steady. Silco is looking towards the future, he's the person who's actively making an effort in order to change, he's the brains of the operation and he does what he can in order to achieve his and everyones dream of hopefully making the undercity a better place for people to live in; and by people we mean his loved ones, and by his loved ones we mean Jinx. Because Silco is so fundamentally flawed as he's portrayed as a villain and acts like one, his cruelty is an understatement, but what he's fighting for still stands. Which is making Zaun a better place for Felicia's kids to be raised; it wasn't the path they thought It would turn out to be, but it was the path that he forged in order to get what he viewed as the perfect life for Jinx. Because he's fighting for her. And that's another reason why I feel like he's so keen on keeping her happy.

Anyways end of yap session, tldr; Jinx Is the perfect embodiment of a Zaunian citizen because she's been raised by the hopes, foundation, and future of Zaun (Felicia, Vander, and Silco)

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tokiwarcube · 3 days ago

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Kisses

Just some thoughts on kissing the guys -- Just Pickles, Skwisgaar, and Toki for this one! Rest of the boys to follow soon <3

Pickles the Drummer

Molasses thick and syrupy sweet; leisurely in its endeavor, with just enough presence to keep your attention, but calm enough to melt into the motions. Kissing Pickles is an experience — lazy, messy, and hot.

To be abundantly clear, he’s like this nearly any time he can get his hands on you for more than a few seconds, regardless of what’s in his blood at the moment — what can he say? Kissing is more fun when it’s messy. Although, when he has to keep it brief, he still has this air of casualness. Strong hands gently tugging you to him so he can press a kiss to your temple as a greeting; lazy kisses across your abdomen close enough to feel the scratching tickle of his beard; half-awake smatterings against whatever he can reach in the morning as a plead for just a few more minutes… He has quite a range, and he knows it damn well.

He’s also liable to murmur little thoughts against your lips, at the most random of times. It’s not entirely surprising, considering how many of your moments together are spent intertwining casual and the carnal, but it always makes you laugh a little.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Skwisgaar Skwigelf drips sex appeal in damn-near everything he does. He’s all lithe movements, lascivious even in the way he breathes — so really, it shouldn’t be surprising that this would apply to how he kisses too, right?

Well, you might be shocked to learn that this isn’t necessarily true… not always, anyways. Sure, he’s a fantastic kisser — the best, even. To say he’s had practice would be an understatement, but he’s also a savant when it comes to picking up all your little weaknesses — always just the right amount of everything to leave you panting and wanting. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

But that’s just it — perfection. A honed skill, rather than an avenue for connection. It’s not until he’s comfortable that you start to see the guise of perfection slip, and start to see the real Skwisgaar bleed through into his affections.

Stupid jokes muttered against your lips to feel you smile, to feel your huff of amusement against his lips; Long, lingering kisses to the inside of your wrist when you’re half awake at night, so he can count your pulse. The same little trick against your neck in the early hours of the morning, to keep you from leaving the bed. Kisses to the top of your head when you’re least expecting it, because he knows the way he flaunts the height difference — not the difference itself, but the way he flaunts it, he’s found — pisses you off to no end, and he likes the way you playfully scowl at him afterwards.

What was once a method to get you riled up has since turned into a method of knowing you — not just for sex, but for the pure experience of knowing you. Of being close.

He’s still a great kisser, though.

Toki Wartooth

Toki Wartooth, known velcro boyfriend. This man lives, breathes, and dies by the power of physical affection, and this is no more apparent than with you.

Living in Mordhaus is a jumpscare simulator, except instead of some garish monster jumping out to steal your soul, it’s your boyfriend jumping out to steal your breath away when you least expect it. A kiss to your forehead when you’re staring at your phone, only to walk away when you look up to respond; a kiss to the cheek when you brush by each other in the halls; stolen kisses you’re wrapped up in a rant about a new interest, because you’re just too cute to resist — it’s not that he doesn’t need a reason, it’s that everything is a reason. Every smooch has it’s own intent behind it, even if it’s a bit hard to connect the dots in your own mind.

I will say though… he is also a love biter. Do with that what you will.

Sure, sometimes there a specific intent behind it, of which I doubt I have to explain… but not always! In fact, there’s many a time where he’ll be casually resting his head against your chest, and is just overwhelmed with love, and thus, the urge to press his canines into your upper arm, or your sides, or really anywhere he can reach. It’s a sweet thing, really.

He knows his mustache tickles, and he likes using it to his advantage to get a little laugh out of you sometimes. He also does this really cute thing when he steals a particularly quick kiss where he’ll scrunch his nose a little. He’s adorable.

#metalocalypse x reader #skwisgaar skwigelf x reader #pickles the drummer x reader #toki wartooth x reader #metalocalypse toki x reader #metalocalypse skwisgaar x reader #dethklok x reader #metalocalypse pickles x reader

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supernova1885a · 2 days ago

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I love angst, make my fav characters suffer is basically a tradition.

So I have all this lore that I made up myself while playing based on confusing events and dialogues, so I decided to illustrate a little bit of what the transition from happiness = tragedy would be like in the relationship of these two. I don't know what the hell I saw in that spider but I love them and that's precisely why I'm going to make them suffer, you're welcome.

I MUST CLARIFY that everything I say in this post is not canon or is partially based on the canon of the game. Don't take this as something official, I just want to share a little of my interpretation of both the story and characters. Also that Shamura is a she/her to me, but I will refer to her as they/them in this post.

After Shamura found the others, they moved together to Silk Cradle and worked out what their new life would be from now on. Shamura made very strong bonds with they new family, but especially with Leshy and Narinder, although due to his insistence they spent more time with the latter.

They used to take him with them to their temple and show him the spider webs that decorated the place, as well as teach him to weave and other things. Being the eldest, they had to impart the learning of their siblings as well as help them assume their places as divinities. All with enormous love and affection that grew with the passage of time.

Years later, the five of them grew up and left Silk Cradle to begin to reign in their respective kingdoms. Because Narinder's kingdom was not earthly, he was the last to leave.

Shamura was the one who made and gave their siblings their robes, it was a last gift from them before not seeing them again for a long time. They could not hide their happiness, although along with it there was a slight feeling of sadness, but they knew well that they could not keep them with them for life and had to let them follow their paths.

Of course, there are times when with bad guidance the paths can go awry. Shamura loved their siblings, perhaps too much and that made them very permissive regarding certain actions that they did. Narinder was fed up with his position and decided to go further, breaking the laws of nature, Shamura had a bad feeling but when they realized it was too late. Narinder felt betrayed when they reproached him, because it was thanks to their knowledge that he had done what he did and now they was angry with him.

Maybe it was the tension of the moment that increased with each reprimand from they that caused him to attack them, maybe it was anger or he just didn't know how to control himself. From one moment to the next Shamura fell to the ground, a warm liquid began to stain their face, the screams of their siblings could be heard in the distance and a sharp pain began to overwhelm them. Fear, anger, sadness, pain, they had never felt so many emotions at once, they didn't know whether to cry or scream, whether to get up or stay there, until suddenly everything went completely dark.

Shamura was cared for by their siblings until they was stable, but the pain from their wound was not the only thing that began to bother them. With it came severe headaches, vertigo, dizziness, and memory loss. Despite all that and the harm their beloved brother had caused them, deep down in their damaged heart, they still loved him.

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I haven't worked on this beyond the main concept yet, but I wanted to share it with you guys instead of just leaving it to writing and my imagination! I'm thinking about making a few comics about it, I have a lot of ideas I want to put down here. Thanks for reading!

#angst #cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl fanart #cotl shamura #cotl narinder #Shamura I love you pls don't cry #then i remembered i'm the one making angst about them lol

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seancekitsch · 2 days ago

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The Sword and the Quill: Chapter Six

Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x Reader

In the weeks leading up to little Daeron's departure to Oldtown, Queen Alicent finds herself trying to entertain the unmarried ladies of court. As one of her ladies in waiting, you agree to an anonymous penpal in one of the men at court, and end up spilling your heart to him. He is your perfect match, your equal. The only issue? The Queen's brother Gwayne Hightower will not stop teasing you as you try to uncover who responds to your letters.

****tw/ this chapter only for an attempted mugging ****

Dearest Y/N,

I apologize for any harm or shame I’ve caused you. I know that as you were corresponding with these letters, you most likely did not want it to be me. I admit, a part of me did not want it to be you. But that is not the truth of the matter, and the entire time we were communicating with each other. Without being presumptuous, we fell for each other. Even without knowing that you were the one with the pen, I picked those flowers for your Love and Beauty crown with you in mind. Searching for my writer was not at the front of my mind when your smile graced a room. Now, I understand very much that you and I have differing opinions on where to go from here.

I would still wish to court you, as your words have moved me and while yes I have mocked you I never mocked your looks. I was never joking when I called you pretty.

I feel like you would rather not have me. Which, I will respect. If it would please you, I will go back to Oldtown early, as to not cause more unneeded harm to you. I do not wish for you to leave my sister because of my presence. She and the children clearly need and love you.

I have said many things over the ages, but especially the past few months that I wish I could take back. Even more, there are words I haven’t said yet wish I had.

Unfortunately yours,

Gwayne Hightower

So he does not hide his name anymore, or yours? Has he not thought of the implications of that? What people could assume might have transpired between the two of you if these were to be found? Love and beauty, the coin with the naked woman on it, these letters, the dance you shared; it is all too much. Evidence of a love affair that has not happened. These letters would shame you, you think. Enough to ruin any marriage prospect, enough to tear you from pious Alicent’s side. What would she think if rumors of an illicit affair out of wedlock with her brother of all people surfaced? You do not even consider the fact that these rumors would be completely untrue. People talk, and hearsay is often more powerful than the truth. There is probably already talk of a bastard Flowers in your belly.

And for a moment, you consider burning the parchment in the flame of the candle before you. Instead you place it to the side, the ring on your pinky clinking against the pewter cup to sip your beer. You sip long and hard on the beer, watching the amber liquid swish in the bottom of the cup as you gulp. The castle had felt all too stuffy and uncomfortable tonight, the same as it had felt every night since the feast.

You have spent the last week embroidering and dining with Alicent, walking her children to and from their lessons, and walking Maegor’s tunnels the moment the little royals were put to bed. Each night, you come to this tavern with the letter, and each night you agonize on how- or if- to respond. Tonight you are determined to respond, to have some way to save dignity or appearance in this. Often Helaena was the child that gave you odd riddles, but tonight it was little Aemond.

“Did you know that some of these walls are hollow?” he had asked you, and you had to wonder if he knew about the tunnels from a history book, or if the six year old was warning you. You decided not to take it as a warning, and told the little prince that the walls were stone and stone could not be hollow.

Your ring glitters in the candle light as you sit there and with your own blank parchment and your quill. The barkeep keeps the beer flowing and you think of what to write. You drink and read and drink and read. You place your pewter down as your eyes scan the letter again.

What he has written vexes you, angers you, saddens you. You aren’t exactly sure if his leave would grant you peace, as you know it would discontent Alicent and take Daeron from you. And what of you? To say that his presence is an issue is just as equal to his absence being an issue. Part of you wants to believe him, as it did feel nice to be in his arms; it felt nice when barbs were traded for more gentle jokes.

But even so, this is Gwayne Hightower. This is a man who has so often worked to make you look and sound like a fool; a man who has said horribly nasty things without caring that you were near, begets pleasure from making your temper rise. Surely, this is just another joke of his.

A well thought out, time consuming joke at your expense. Another embarrassment at his hand. To write these letters, to make the crown of flowers, to dance with you; it is all to fuel the rumor mill of court, one he understands well and understands the consequences within. It is a farce to make you look like some simpering maiden following around a knight, to make Alicent’s closest companion seem capable of scandal.

And surely, scandal is already spreading after you all but took flight from the feast. Certainly, he has made you a topic of discussion.

With a hand raised for another round, you finally know what to write to him.

You use the flame from the little candle upon the table to heat the wax before you seal your parchment. There is no need or use to disguise your parchment anymore, you think, now that he and you are unmasked. You settle up with the barkeep as it hardens, a sad smile on your face after you drain the pewter cup for the last time this evening and press the silver coins into his hand. You press your finger to the wax, testing its seal, before pulling the cloak up around you again and going back out into the night.

Your feet are unsteady under you as you travel the alley ways back towards the keep. Just three city blocks from here is a small door which looks like an average cellar, which in truth conceals one of the entrances to Maegor’s tunnels. This is a path you know well, a path you have trod every night this week alone. Your parchment clutched in hand, you tipsily make your way back so that you may collapse into bed for another dreamless sleep. Your boots clack against cobblestone, echoing as the wind blows at your cloak. The parchment in your hand flutters and flaps like a bird against the cage of your hand.

You turn a corner, and another corner, the alleys crowded with patrons of taverns and pleasure houses and dance halls raucous and crying and cheering in the night. It seems, you think to yourself, that despite all of the jewels and privilege of your station that the common people seem to have more fun. At least, they have since Viserys’ coronation. You’d heard from your Lord Father of the strife that had taken Prince Aemon and how it had been ended many times. Viserys inherited peace from his father’s bravery. Alicent though, had never met Viserys’ father. As a child, Otto had her read stories to old and dying King Jahaerys, and then her father had her comfort Viserys similarly when Queen Aemma died. Perhaps more royals live their life in servitude than one would think, you ponder, your eyes feeling wet with sympathy for your friend.

“Oh, excuse me,” you mumble as your shoulder accidentally clips someone’s arm, and you turn a corner.

You turn another corner, more wobbly now than before as the warmth from the beer settles into your bones. Maybe, tipsy optimism tells you, everything will be okay if you can just get back to your bed without stumbling too hard. Maybe somehow the Gwayne problem as you have been calling it would go away if you could just get back to your warm and soft bed. He could just stop being himself or stop tormenting you somehow? Some sorcery or potion could be invented to stop tongues from wagging? Silly thoughts, really. No use in continuing them. You stumble over the toe of your boot as you put the thoughts to rest. The cobblestones seem to come up to meet your feet as your boots push you forward, the worn leather of them no longer shiny in the streetlamp lights from years of use.

“A Lady shouldn’t walk out here alone,” a man’s voice calls to you, and you pull your cloak closer to yourself. You figure if you ignore the voice and keep walking you can put enough space between yourself and the man. This is, admittedly, not the safest part of town. The nearby pleasure houses attract terrible men, but the hired guards positioned at the entrances tend to watch out for women on the street. There is a letter opener in your bag, so you are not exactly unarmed, but you would rather reach the nearest entrance to Maegor’s tunnels without having to use it. You move a little faster, now eager to reach the next corner to turn.

“Did you hear me, M’lady?” The voice calls again, and your blood runs cold. How did he know? Footsteps pick up behind you, and you pick up your pace to try to out walk him. If you can make it to the next street, certainly he wouldn’t try to grab you with so many witnesses.

You reach just a few mere meters from the opening of the alleyway before hands grasp at your arms. Defensively, you put your forearms up over your chest, clutching the letter tight and wrinkling the parchment.

“Been followin’ you,” Rancid breath wafts over your face, “No common whore wears rings like that.”

Fuck. Now you finally remember. Before leaving your chambers, you always remove all jewelry. You always put on your plainest clothes. A simple garnet on your pinky finger has given you away. Fear courses through your bloodstream, but so does a steady mourning. This too now, you can never have again.

“All this trouble for a ring?” you ask, beer making you bolder. Anger, sadness, fear, all rolled into one as you hold your defensive stance. If only you can reach into your bag for the letter opener.

“All this trouble for whatever else you’ve got,” He sneers, and something in you tells you now is the time to fight. You kick your leg back, boot connecting with what you think is his knee as you wriggle out of his grasp, tearing your cloak and knocking yourself down to the ground in the process. You gasp as your knees land hard on the stones, trying your hardest not to cry out in pain. The man recovers a lot quicker than you expected, stumbling back to his feet and muttering curses at you. You hold your hands up weakly, as if the crumpled letter in your hand is a shield.

“Bitch! I should cut off your finger for that,” he tells you, and a dagger now glitters just as brightly as your garnet.

But no blade makes contact with your skin. Instead, you look up to see the man grabbed by the collar by none other than Gwayne Hightower. He, too, is dressed much more civilian than you are used to seeing. He wears a simple brown cloak and tunic. Only, his boots are fancy thick riding boots. Gwayne slams the man against the wall of the alley, a sickening crack as the back of his head hits stone.

“Do not touch her again!” Gwayne more or less roars, anger you have never seen before radiating from him. You scramble to stand as he presses the man further, his free hand now resting on his sword.

“I should have your hands for this,” Gwayne bares his teeth, animalistic in his rage towards the man, and the man seems well and terrified.

“No trouble,” the man chokes out under the hand on his throat, “I’ll be no trouble.”

It’s only then that Gwayne relents and releases the man.

“Be gone, and do not ever let me see you again,” he warns, and the man gathers himself to leave immediately.

“Keep your bitch on a leash next time,” the man mutters, and it’s the last you hear from him as he departs. Gwayne’s arms come around you immediately, snaking around your form and pulling you close into his chest. He smells of sweat and wine and now coppery blood as well.

You feel pressure on the top of your head, and for a moment you think it may be his lips. But no, you write it off, you are tipsy and imagining things.

“You stupid woman, do not scare me like that again,” he sighs, breathless and still on high.

“I had that handled!” You nearly shriek, and then falter, “I mean, there is a letter opener in my bag. I could have stabbed him myself, I could have put out his eyes or jabbed between his-“

“Handled? You fool, he was ready to dispatch you over a ring,” Gwayne cringes at his own words, as if his fear for your safety even scares himself.

His hand cradling your head is warm, holding you close to his chest as if you are his. You lean into the embrace, not quite holding him back, but because the comfort outweighs the desire to stand straight. This is twice now, that he has insulted your intellect, but you bury annoyance for the moment. He did, in fact, make sure you were to go home with all of your fingers tonight.

“Fine,” you pout, looking up at him, “I guess some thanks are in order.”

His face immediately softens as you gaze up at him, a faint smile on his lips as he takes in your appearance.

“I appreciate that, My Lady.”

“Do not think this puts you back in my good graces, Ser Gwayne.”

“My heroism is not enough? Might you believe it is me now?”

Not you. Not you. The words swirl in your head. Not him.

“I believe you are out of the Keep late at night, nothing more.”

His arms do not leave you, but his embrace of you loosens.

“And what are you doing here? A noble lady, this close to the Streets of Silk? You might as well be on them.” His voice is strained with anger and worry, his hair out of place and sweat evident on his brow. For a moment, you almost feel bad he is in such a state. He is clearly distressed, maybe harmed, because of you. A part of you wants to reach out to him and check for any sore or tender spots, but equally, you want him to just stop making that face.

But then it cuts through your tipsy haze what he has truly said, what he himself has revealed.

You scoff, incredulous and seeing red. You push him off of you as if he had been the one to cause your injury tonight.

“Good Ser,” the title spits like venom from a serpent, “I think I need not ask what you are doing near the Streets of Silk.”

He is silent for a moment, a damning silence as he looks to the shine of a puddle settling between the cobblestones.

“You are lucky I spotted you when I did, Y/n.”

Hot, humiliated tears threaten to spill from your eyes, nevermind that Gwane will not meet your eye and looks just as wounded as you feel. He was on the Streets of Silk, he all but admitted, no doubt chasing women with the crown’s coin and roughing up with his men. The smell of sweat on his tunic is not from defending you from that man, you realize. Truthfully you always knew where your tavern was located, but it had not been an issue until tonight. Until Gwayne Fucking Hightower had to play hero and humiliate you even further as some silly chivalrous interlude in a knight’s evening of debauchery. After everything he had written, the apology he had given you, he has proven he is still just the knight you always thought he was. He could not possibly be genuine in his affections for you if he could so easily come here, you tell yourself. Surely, this is only more fuel to the fiery cavern burning distance between you. He will not see you cry, he mustn’t.

“My hero,” you mutter, and shove the crumpled parchment to his chest as you walk past him.

You hold your tears until you reach the tunnel.

#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne x reader

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elebicheee · 8 hours ago

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Insecure Attraction- X-MEN 97!Logan X F!Reader

A/N: I had to exorcise this from my system sksksksksksk. Might make a part two if anyone wants it.

Wordcount: 2142

Summary: Feelings grow like plants, and with plants come weeds that hinder that growth. After a close call on a mission Logan takes it upon himself to train you, and for a fleeting moment you think maybe your one-sided crush isn't as one-sided as you thought. Then you're interrupted, and jealousy rears its ugly head.

Warnings: Canon typical violence. Unrequited love but is it tho? Reader is described as taller than Logan and is referred to as she/her but no physical descriptions are used. Lowkey Jean Grey slander but its due to jealousy and misunderstanding.

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To say you'd spent most of your time in the mansion praying to whatever gods were out there that the telepaths on the property couldn't hear your thoughts was an understatement. Since you moved here everyone has been very welcoming and accommodating. And though you'd been a mutant your entire life, this was the first time you'd ever had to deal with mind readers. And that made you nervous.

Not because you had any sort of nefarious plans or dark treacherous secrets. But because you had a crush. A big one.

And you really, really, wanted to keep it under wraps because the thought of it ever turning into anything seemed so preposterous and far-fetched that your own feelings made you embarrassed.

It started very slowly, your crush on Logan, so slow that by the time it had blossomed completely the roots were too deeply bedded to simply rip out. You didn't like him at first, he was brash, stubborn and pretty rude. And, not to mention, short. All things that you didn't like, at all. Surely. You'd entertained enough assholes in your life to want anything to do with him at all, and standing at almost six feet you knew how men reacted to feeling ‘lesser’. And by all accounts, you should want nothing to do with Logan-fucking-Howlett.

But here you were. It was strange how people's roles in one's mind changed without notice.

Your powers were simple, being able to conjure panels of energy that you mostly used as shields for yourself or others. You had a pretty background position on the team, which you didn't mind at all given that before this you'd never really fought much. This relegated you to work on more ‘search and rescue’ missions after the big fights. Your panels allow you to keep buildings steady to give first responders time to get people out or keeping them safe during combat while they did their jobs. It was during these tasks that you saw the cracks in Logan’s gruff facade.

It wasn't a secret that he all but ran towards the battlefield as soon as a skirmish started. But what most people didn't know was that he stayed, long after the battles ended. His body still healing from the damage, suit torn, he’d help anyone stuck under rubble, he'd take hits from falling debris in their place knowing that he could heal but they couldn't.

“Fuck!” You heard his gruff voice nearby after the unmistakable sound of falling rubble and a fragile scream. You turned from the pillar you were holding in place to see Logan crouching over an elderly woman, a partially destroyed wall crumbled over his back.

“Logan!” You made sure it was safe to release your hold on the pillar before making your way to him carefully. There was some blood on his part but nothing he wouldn't walk away from. Making sure there was nothing stabbing him, you created a panel between his back and the shattered wall, keeping it firmly in place allowing him to move freely and carry the old woman to safety. Despite the obvious pain he was in he moved carefully, mindful of the old woman's fragility. You stared as he handed her carefully to the paramedics nodding wordlessly at her teary thank yous and walking away. It was only when you heard Scott call for your help that you released the wall you were holding in place, its impact on the floor waking you from your dazedness that you tore your gaze away from Logan's wounded back and continued to do your job.

That was one of many moments that slowly chipped away at your crude first impression of him, and built something more for him inside your heart.

For the most part, you just observed from afar, convinced that this was enough for you. Because his heart already belonged to someone else. Because men don't like taller women. Because he wasn't the relationship-type unless it involved a certain redhead. Excuses, excuses, excuses.

Every small act of kindness offered or thoughtful gestures that were meant only for those on the receiving end and no one else made the feeling in your chest tighter. Saving civilians, despite the very real possibility that they were mutant-hating bigots; Or offering reassurance to Morph when they were having a bad day. Every action just crushed your little heart bit by bit.

You wanted to bash your head against a wall.

Once you knew that Logan could be kind, it was impossible to not see every little act of kindness hidden beneath layers of brashness and sarcasm. Like right now.

After a particularly difficult mission you were overwhelmed by the amount of rubble and buildings you had to keep together as first responders cleared the area. Too overwhelmed to notice a rogue sentinel. Which would have gotten you killed, had Logan not been there.

Now you made your way through the simulation currently running in the danger room, dodging and redirecting attacks and falling debris thrown your way from the simulated sentinels. Logan though you didn't get enough time in the field, which made you rusty. And being rusty could mean death. Even though you knew this impromptu training session came from a place of care, you were perfectly fine with your rust.

“This is so not necessary!” You yelled at him while taking cover behind an overturned vehicle, “I'm not a fighter, I'm a first responder!” A blast shot near your head and you turned and ran further away from the approaching sentinel.

“The Friends of Humanity and the sentinels won't care ‘bout that bub.” Logan answered sharply through the P.A. system, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You're a mutant, that's all they'll see. They'll take any chance they can get to kill ya.” Blocking a direct shot from the sentinel you gasped in exhaustion and ran into an alley. “You're not gonna give em’ that chance.”

Fuck. He definitely wasn't gonna let you out of here unless you took down that sentinel or you were too wounded to continue. And you preferred it be the former rather than the latter. Partially because the latter came with a scolding, but mostly because you didn't want to break anything during a training session of all things. You took a breath. You weren't great at attacks, mainly because you lacked the control it took to make a plan and then move it, but you could do them. You crouched and looked back at the sentinel, it lost sight of you but it was coming closer, scanning. If you could line your shot just right, you could probably take it down in one shot. You needed to move in close, your focus, or lack thereof, wouldn't allow for any sort of long range attack.

You sighed deeply, feeling the burn of exhaustion in your lungs, and ran out and towards the thing. It was scanning a nearby building, and so long as you didn’t make too much noise you'd have a few precious seconds to get close enough to decapitate the thing. But luck was not on your side since a car you jumped over decided to blast it’s alarm. Great, you'd definitely have to try launching a plane from much farther than you anticipated. The sentinel turned to face you, standing at attention it raised an arm and shot a beam in your direction. You got low, dodging as you rolled in its direction. You focused the shape of the plan in your mind, raised your hand as you ran in the machine's direction and similar to a pitcher, accumulating all the force and focus you could, you threw the thing in its direction.

Your knees buckled under you, they hit the simulated pavement. You looked up to see that your plane had left a cut on the sentinels face, it was deep enough to incapacitate the thing, but not the decapitation you were planning. But it worked the same. The thing fell forward, debris piling around it and in all directions. But before it could reach you the simulation disappeared. You sighed in relief and sat back.

Logan entered the now empty danger room and approached you. He kneeled in front of you, a smirk on his face.

“Now that wasn't so hard, was it bub?” He asked sarcastically, making sure you weren't seriously injured, but aside from a few knicks and scratches you were fine. Content with that knowledge he offered a hand to you. “Next time we'll try two.”

“Hilarious.” You deadpanned, taking his hand as he hauled you to your feet. You took in the feel of his calloused hand in yours, and for a moment wondered how many times of hurt it took for someone with a near perfect healing factor to have hands as callous as his’. You swallowed the lump in your throat, and ignored the heat crawling from your hand up to your neck. “I am never doing this again, thank you.” You continued letting go of his hand, you looked down at him desperately hoping he couldn't tell how you were feeling inside. With his enhanced senses, you could never know, but you schooled your features.

“C’mon kid, my teachin’ aint that bad.” He chuckled looking up at you. The way he never hesitated looking up at you, never took a step back to measure your height against his, even the first time you met, always added fuel to the fire in your heart. Men were always weird about you being taller than them, but never Logan. Sometimes you wished he would, then maybe you'd be able to look him in the eyes for more than a few seconds at a time.

“It's definitely intense.” You averted your gaze and bussied yourself with checking where you needed to have your uniform mended. Honestly unnecessary since Hank seemed to enjoy those tasks, but anything that could keep your gaze away from him was welcome.

“You can handle it.” His voice was deep, husky. And for a single delusional moment you wondered if he was actually talking about the training.

No. Surely not.

“Well, I'm glad one of us thinks so.” You tried to sound sarcastic, not flustered. You went to walk past him but he stopped you with a hold on your arm. You looked back at him, his gaze was serious, you ignored how it felt to have those eyes on you.

“I'm serious.” His voice was firm, his hand firm on your arm, not letting go. “You can handle this, you need to. You could've died out there.”

“I didn't, I'm fine.”

“You almost weren't.” He grit his teeth, he brought up his other hand and held your other arm. Now you faced him fully. He was not letting you go. “I can't always be there to keep you safe, I need to know that you'll be okay even if I'm not there.”

“I-” You gaped at him, your face was so hot you feared you'd combust right there. You tried to squirm out of his grasp, but his hold was firm, the more you tried to escape him the firmer his hold became. “I appreciate the concern, but I promise I'm fine!”

“Listen-” The sudden swish of the entrance to the danger room cut him off. Both of you turned to face the door to find Jean Grey standing there. Instantly he dropped his hands, leaving you colder than you were before his touch.

“Am I interrupting something?” She asked, a hint of amusement on her face. “I can come back later.”

“No.” His answer was so immediate it felt like you'd been shot in the chest. “What do you need Jeannie?” He walked over to her, back to you.

And there it was.

She was his Jeannie. His everything. The girl he'd wait forever for even when she's clearly never looking his way, not really. For a moment you just watched them. The way he looked at her, the way she looked at him. Whatever they were saying was completely lost to you. The few feet between you and the pair felt like miles.

The other root took hold. Green and ugly. Jealousy. Was it fair to be so jealous over someone that would never be yours? The warm feeling in your chest turned cold, gripping and painful.

It wasn't fair. She has Scott, why was she still stringing Logan along?!-

Her gaze shot towards you, eyes wide.

Oh no.

no , no, no!

You'd thought too loud. She’d definitely heard you. Logan looked between the two of you, confused. He hesitated, but took a step towards you.

You pushed past the pair, ignoring both their protests, heart hammering in your ears. If Logan called after you, you didn't hear him.

You really hated living with telepaths.

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #x men 97 #x men 97 x reader #x men #jean grey #james logan howlett #x reader

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