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shina913 · 2 days ago

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A Very Patient Man | LJH

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x AFAB!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: F2L; FWB; smut; pwp

Warnings: cussing; breast play; fingering; cunnilingus; unprotected sex; PIV sex; riding; ass smacking; dirty talk; creampie

Word count: 4.6k words

Summary: You’re frustrated because it takes you longer to reach an orgasm during sex. This has made you feel insecure, and you started to accept the fact you’d never meet someone patient enough to give you the attention you need. Your friend, Jihoon, casually offers a solution.

A/N: Idk. I slipped and fell onto my keyboard and all this horny word vomit spilled out. Thanks to @roaminginthenights for always enabling me in the DMs 🤣

This is also un-beta'd so...it is what it is.

Anyway! Here’s something filthy to end the year! 💜

It started innocently enough at Jihoon’s studio. You were sitting on his couch, venting about your dating life, and as always, he listened attentively just as you do when he shares his own experiences.

However, today’s visit was different. He’s letting you ramble on about a very specific topic.

“I feel like there’s an invisible time limit on foreplay.”

Jihoon’s chair creaks as he leans back, laughing at your incredulous claim. “No, there isn’t!”

“But I really think there is!” you argue. “My last date got visibly impatient, even though I...” you inhale through your teeth, “clearly asked him for more time down there. Instead, he just said, ‘It’s been five minutes, it’s my turn now.’” You huff in annoyance.

“Well, that sucks. Did you get rid of him?”

You grimace before replying. “Please don’t judge me. He was cute, so we still fucked. My vibrator finished the job,” you admit guiltily. “I blocked him on the app afterward though.”

He sighs, shaking his head in mild disappointment. “You shouldn’t compromise on your needs. If you want more time, say so and stick with it.”

You huffed wistfully. “I just take too long. I get all panicky when someone’s been down there for longer than 5 minutes.”

“You can’t rush pleasure,” he comments.

“I know that, but now, it makes me think—how long is too long before you come? Is there a play clock winding down on the field? Do I need to call out an audible?”

He doubles over again, laughing when you start using sports metaphors.

“How can some women summon an orgasm—” you snap your fingers, “just like that?”

His laughs subside, turning more serious now. “Don’t do that. Don’t compare yourself to other people. Everybody’s different.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me,” you remark sarcastically.

He turns away to face his screen, adding more edits to a track he’s working on.

“I don’t know…” you mumble, shrugging in defeat. “I guess my vibrator and I are destined to spend the rest of our lives together. Might as well reserve matching burial plots.”

Jihoon snorts. “You just haven’t found the right partner. A really patient one, I might add,” he says, half-joking.

You smack him on his bicep, and your hand stings from the unexpected firmness under his oversized shirt. Has his arm always been this solid? When was the last time you touched his bicep? Wait—why are you even thinking of his bicep?

You and Jihoon have been close friends since college, maintaining a purely platonic relationship—never a hint of romance or sexual tension between you. On rare nights out, you even act as each other’s wingman, helping one another find potential dates. You two simply click on a different level—easy and no complications.

He looked up from his mixing board, turning to you with a slight smirk. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I happen to be very patient.”

The lilt in his voice was unmistakable. It was the kind of tone he used when chatting up potential conquests on your nights out.

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Don’t you dare use that Joey Tribbiani move on me.”

“It’s not a move.” He keeps his face serious, looking genuinely hurt by your comment. “You’re my friend. I wouldn’t do that to you,” he says softly. “I’m just saying, if you ever wanted to try, I’m game.” He tilts his head, giving a casual shrug. “No judgment.”

You stare at him, stunned, as his offer hangs in the air. You try to laugh it off, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

Was he seriously proposing that you two—nope! You refuse to go there. Jihoon is a great friend, and although you trust him, you’re not sure you’d be comfortable with the idea of...

You shake your head. You can’t even finish the thought. You glance at your watch for no reason at all.

“You know, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Oh? I thought you wanted to grab dinner?” He’s surprised and confused at your sudden change of plans.

“It’s getting late.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t that late. You feel guilty lying to your friend, but you need to escape this conversation—and this situation—as quickly as possible.

“I just got a notification from work. I need to come in early, yada-yada…You know how it is.”

He looks disappointed but doesn’t push. You gather your things, slipping your puffer jacket on, despite the room feeling several degrees warmer.

“Alright. If you’re sure—”

“Yeah,” you cut him off. That came out more tersely than you initially intended. “I’m sure,” you add with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes to try and make up for it.

He rises from his seat when you do and moves in for a hug—just like he usually does. But this time, the hug feels different; you’re suddenly hyperaware of his touch, your skin tingling all over. You return his hug stiffly, without your usual warmth, then hurry out of his studio and immediately tear off your too-hot jacket.

That night, your dreams were filled with visions—his hands tracing paths across your skin, his dark head dipping between your thighs, his intense gaze meeting yours as you hovered on the edge of unbridled pleasure. The dream felt so vivid you could have sworn you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin. It wasn’t until your alarm began blaring, leaving you trembling and drenched in sweat, that reality came crashing back.

********************************************

A couple of days passed, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Jihoon. This wasn’t your usual “hope he remembered to eat lunch” thoughts or impulse to send him funny memes that popped up on your algorithm.

After your NSFW dream about him, you started noticing little things about him you’d never paid attention to before—the adorable way he’d scrunch up his nose while concentrating on work, how his muscles moved when he reached for something, or how the warm red studio lights perfectly highlighted his features.

You shake your head. It’s not that deep. Jihoon’s suggestion was only practical. There’s no reason to go down this rabbit hole.

Still, you can’t deny the growing curiosity gnawing at the back of your mind. You hadn’t expected his offer to affect you this way, but it does.

After days of avoiding him, you decide to invite him to dinner at your place. Maybe if you discussed this with him, the dreams and inappropriate thoughts would stop.

The moment he walks through your door, everything falls apart. You become hyper-aware of his every move. You catch yourself stealing glances when you think he isn’t looking, and you flinch whenever he gets too close.

Finally, he’s had enough.

“Okay,” he says firmly. “What’s with you? Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” you lie, your heart racing. You reach for your drink and take a hefty gulp.

“Have I said or done something? You’ve flaked on me the last couple of times I asked you to go out, you’ve left me on ‘read’ more than you’ve responded...”

You felt guilty for avoiding him, but you needed that space to sort out your thoughts. Though you wanted to have this conversation, you couldn’t find the right moment to broach the topic.

“Then you invite me over, barely talk—” he continues to rant.

“It’s... it’s really more of a me-problem,” you stammer.

“Just talk to me! I can take it.” He throws his hands up in frustration.

You inwardly groan, before finally coming clean. “Remember the last time we were at your studio? I was whining about...something.”

He squinted for a bit, then you could see the recognition slowly dawning in his eyes before lowering his voice. “You mean, how you take a long time to reach an orgasm?”

You shut your eyes, mortified when he articulates it. “Yes…”

“What about it?”

“It’s not exactly about that, but it’s more about what you said after. You know—your offer to help?”

His face visibly relaxes, prompting you to continue. “Okay.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, but you push through. “Did you mean it, or were you just messing with me?”

He stares at you for a moment before shaking his head, the corner of his lips quirking up. “The offer still stands, if you want it.”

You sit there chewing the inside of your cheek, feeling torn. Your brain tells you to be careful—fucking your best friend could make things weird. But your body has other ideas. The warmth pooling between your legs makes it harder to think straight.

“Are you considering it?” His voice is gentle, giving you space to choose.

You deflect, buying time to sort through your tumbling thoughts. “I’m curious... have you thought about this before? About us?”

“The idea has crossed my mind from time to time.”

His candor sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Oh,” is all you can manage to say.

“What about you? Have you thought about us...doing things?”

You draw in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to be equally honest. “I never thought of us that way before you mentioned it. But now...” you trail off, unable to verbalize how his suggestion has shifted something between you.

He inches closer, but maintains enough distance to keep you comfortable. His expression grows serious, earnest. “Listen, I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to. You’re one of my best friends, and that matters more to me than anything else. If I’m out of line, just say the word and we won’t talk about it ever again.” The sincerity in his voice, the genuine concern in his eyes makes your heart ache. You’ve always known him to be considerate of your feelings.

“You weren’t out of line.” Hearing you say this was a huge relief to him. “But you can’t really un-ring that bell,” you add wryly.

You also couldn’t get past an earlier comment he made. “So…you’ve thought about us before?”

He takes a moment before answering. “Yeah. I mean, you’re beautiful. Who wouldn’t want you?”

Your cheeks flush at his compliment.

Your best friend has always had this effortless way about him—you’ve seen firsthand how easily he charms people during your nights out together.

Your resolve crumbles, and honestly, you’re tired of fighting it. “How are you so chill about all this?”

He laughs. “It’s sex, not rocket science.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Things won’t get weird afterward, will they?”

“Afterward? So...you’re saying you want to have sex? With me?” His eyebrows raise slightly.

You already knew the answer to that question the moment you asked him to come over. “I guess I do,” you say softly with a nervous smile, “for science?”

His sexy, throaty laugh echoes through the room.

********

You sit nervously on your couch facing each other. Since this is completely new territory for both of you, you know you need to take things slow and make sure you’re both comfortable. Gathering up the courage to agree to this experiment is the easy part, but actually getting into it?

“Just to be clear—this is a one-time thing, right?”

“Of course,” he confirms. “This is purely for educational purposes. And your pleasure.”

You scrunch your nose in protest. “That doesn’t seem like a fair exchange.” The idea of him seeing this as one-sided doesn’t sit right with you. “Shouldn’t this be mutually beneficial?”

“I never said I had to get something out of this. You want to experience an orgasm from foreplay alone, without mechanical assistance, right?”

You nod.

“Okay. So, let me focus on making that happen for you. You don’t need to think about anything else.”

You didn’t want to be selfish, but his offer was difficult to refuse.

“This is about you, not me,” he insists. His decision is firm and he wasn’t budging.

“Okay,” you relent. Fidgeting nervously with the hem of your shirt, you take in a deep breath and release it before muttering, “How should we do this...”

When Jihoon doesn’t immediately offer any suggestions, you think of the most natural way to start.

“Maybe we could start with kissing?”

“Right, good idea.” His voice wavers slightly, betraying that he’s just as nervous as you are despite his attempts to stay composed. Oddly, this puts you at ease—knowing you’re both on the same page, figuring this out as you go.

You both move in closer together, and time seems to slow as he leans in. Your eyes flutter shut, then his lips meet yours. They’re exactly as you’d imagined—soft, warm, and unexpectedly gentle. The kiss starts tentatively, but as your lips find their rhythm, everything feels natural.

When you break apart for a moment, you can’t help but smile. “You’re a good kisser.” You barely finish the sentence before being drawn back to his lips.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he hums, and you can feel his smile against your lips as you both laugh, the sounds melting into your kisses.

Your kisses grow more intense, your mouth sucking on his top lip while his tongue traces delicately along yours, building a warmth that spreads through your entire body. You fist at his shirt, bunching the fabric between your knuckles, while his hand cradles your neck, his thumb gently stroking along your pulse point.

Gradually, his kisses move from your lips, following a path along the curve of your jawline, down to the slope of your neck. You can’t help but giggle at the sensation.

He instantly pulls back, a worried look on his face. “Sorry, are you not into that?”

“No, no—I mean—Yes, I am into it. I’m just a little bit ticklish there, that’s all,” you explain.

“Oh... okay. Do you want to keep going?”

You nod, and as he leans in for another kiss but pauses when you place a hand on his chest. “You know, I didn’t think I’d enjoy this because we’ve been friends for so long, but I have to admit that I like it.”

“Yeah?” A smirk plays across his lips. “Tell me what else you like.” He nips at your jawline. “Or show me.”

Desire spreads through you like wildfire. This was the point of no return. You take his hands and guide them under your shirt until they cup your breasts.

“What do you want me to do?” He murmurs through your lips.

“Play with them.”

His lips capture yours again as he squeezes your breast gently.

He eases you down onto the couch, his lips trailing from yours down your neck to your sternum. When he lifts your shirt to your chest, you feel constrained and pull it off completely, tossing it aside. He follows your lead, removing his own shirt.

His skilled fingers unhook your bra and takes a nipple into his mouth while his thumb teases the other, drawing a sharp breath from you.

You run your fingers through his hair as his kisses trace down your stomach, making your back arch at the sensation against your skin.

His hands glide down your sides until they reach your jeans, where he carefully undoes the button. You hook your fingers into your waistband and start pushing your bottoms down. He helps slide them off, his touch remaining gentle but with a hint of urgency as he pulls the fabric from your legs. As the last piece of clothing falls away, the cool air against your newly exposed skin makes you shiver.

One of his hands pushed between your legs, making them fall open shamelessly. His other hand continued to massage your breasts, making them unbearably sensitive. You can’t believe how slick you’d gotten in a short span of time. To think he hadn’t done much to you yet, apart from kissing you and squeezing your tits.

His gaze traveled down your body, lingering where his fingertips teased your sensitive folds. His feather-light touches made your inner walls clench with need. This only heightened your arousal, making you squirm beneath him, silently begging for more.

He slid one finger carefully into you. Your eyes closed against the unbearable vulnerability of being spread out naked and fingered by your friend, kneeling on the floor beside you. “Don’t think…just feel.” You keened as Jihoon pulled out and thrust gently back into you with two fingers. You couldn’t hold back a moan.

It’s probably been a few minutes now, you’re not sure as you’ve completely lost track of time. You blink furiously in a mild panic and stare down at him, still leisurely finger-fucking you. What he was doing felt so good, but you weren’t even halfway to your peak yet. By this point, other partners would be coming up for air, wanting you to return the favor or just ready to stick their cock in to get their fill.

“Relax...” he cooed, pressing a kiss against your inner thigh. Each deliberate dip and languid curl of his skilled fingers inside you made you wetter, gradually coaxing your muscles to yield. “It’s not a race,” he reassured you softly, his voice thick with desire. “I’ll keep going until you come.”

His words of encouragement sent waves of arousal coursing through you, making your breath catch in your throat.

“Kiss me,” you choked out, needing to feel his lips against yours. Without hesitation, he obliged, sealing his mouth over yours in a deep kiss that made you dizzy.

Your fingers clutched desperately at the edges of your cushions, knuckles turning white from your grip as you felt that familiar sensation between your legs. “Right there. Don’t stop,” you gasped between heavy breaths, your hips bucking against his steadily thrusting fingers. The pleasure was building to an unbearable level, making you feel like you might shatter to pieces if he didn’t push you over the edge soon.

He continued to whisper the filthiest things—words you’d never heard him say to you. They revealed previously unspoken fantasies that ignited your body and overwhelmed your senses. A fleeting thought crossed your mind, wondering if this was his usual bedroom talk. But that thought slipped away as his words and actions consumed you completely. Before you realized it, you were peaking.

“I want to see what you look like when you come,” he purred. “Do you look as pretty as you do right now?” Everything tightened in your core while he kept up his ministrations in a steady, unhurried rhythm.

“Oh fuck, I’m coming…”

“Don’t hold back. Let me hear you,” he urged.

You let out a strangled cry, your mind far beyond the depths of euphoria to care about being quiet or demure about this. He was mesmerized, unable to look away at the sheer pleasure that washed over you. Before you could even process what just happened, he’d already hooked your leg over the back of the couch and covered your cleft with his mouth.

He stroked your clit with his tongue, fluttering over it, building your hunger back up again. He teased your slick folds, taunting you with the promise of another orgasm—something you thought impossible to achieve so soon, yet your body responded eagerly. When his fingers pushed inside you at the same time, you had to bite your lip to stifle a scream.

You came again, your thighs trembling, tender muscles pulsing around his touch. His growl vibrated through you. You didn’t have the strength to push him away when he returned to your clit and sucked softly…tirelessly…but now you wanted more. You needed to feel him.

You manage to sit up and squeeze his shoulder to get his attention. He peers up at you from between your thighs.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Already?” He smiles, teasing you with painfully slow strokes of his fingers. “Pretty sure I can get another one out of you,” he says cockily.

“Lee Jihoon—I. Am asking you. To fuck. Me,” you punctuated. “Will you do it or not?”

He sits up, turning sheepish all of a sudden. “I, uhm…didn’t expect us to be doing this, so I didn’t bring any condoms.”

It’s not like he was some random guy. Although you appreciated his caution, you just wanted him inside you. “I trust you,” you tell him before pressing a kiss to him.

After he settles on the couch, you shift unsteadily to straddle his hips, pressing your bodies together. Reaching between you, you fumble with his jeans until he helps, lifting his hips in a fluid motion to pull them down just enough to free himself. Bracing yourself, you let him guide you as you slowly sink down onto him. Your lips part with an involuntary sigh that turns into a soft moan as he fills you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way.

When you begin to roll your hips, the friction sends sparks of pleasure through your core.

“Fuck, your pussy feels good,” he breathes out roughly, his fingers digging into your hips before worry suddenly crosses his face. His cheeks flush as he stammers, “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

You giggle at his compliment, causing your muscles to clamp around his length. “I’m not mad at it,” you reassure him. “You make me feel really good, too.”

“Yeah?” His brow quirks. “You like when I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you moan, dipping your head to his lips in another kiss as you find your rhythm together.

His hands roam your back, pulling you closer as you rock against him with increasing urgency. Before this, you’ve resigned yourself to never experiencing an orgasm from penetrative sex, and yet here was another brewing and there was nothing you could do but let it happen.

You gasp as his hand makes sudden contact with your ass, the unexpected sting making you freeze in place. You stare at him dumbfounded.

“What are you going to do about it?” he challenges. Before you can answer, his hand comes down again with another firm smack that rings through the room. “What?” The sound of provocation in his voice makes your pulse quicken.

You hover over him, eyes narrowing as you lean closer. Through gritted teeth, your voice emerges as a heated whisper. “Harder.”

“I thought so.” He smiles slyly before your lips crash in a fierce kiss that leaves you both breathless.

With a firm grip, he holds your hips still as he thrusts into you with deliberate, measured strokes. You clutch at him, the rhythmic sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Jihoon buries his face between your breasts, his rough groans reverberating against your flesh.

You whine helplessly, overwhelmed by the building pressure as the familiar coil of tension in your belly winds impossibly tight. Your thighs burn as you teeter on the edge of release.

“Yes...d-don’t...stop...hm...so close,” you pant.

He slows his movements to an agonizing pace, drawing out each thrust to drive you insane. He pulls out completely before sinking back into you with one deep thrust that makes you see stars. Your jaw drops, unintelligible sounds tumbling out your mouth as you come hard.

You hold onto him for dear life, your nails leaving a trail of crescent marks on his skin as he picks up the pace once again, his own rhythm becoming more erratic as he chases his own orgasm. A deep groan rumbles from his chest as your walls pulse and clench around him.

“I’m close,” he warns, his usually calm and collected face now twisted with agonizing need.

“Don’t pull out,” you manage to choke out between strained, ragged breaths.

“You…s-sure…?”

You nod eagerly. With your permission, he thrusts deeper and harder, making your neck loll in ecstasy. He draws you back into a rough, hungry kiss that muffles your shared moans as he reaches the end of his rope, his hips jerking against yours while he spurts inside.

Pressing your sweat-slicked forehead against his, you wait for your heart rate to return to normal. There’s no doubt in your mind—no previous partner could compare to Jihoon.

“Oh my fucking god,” you sigh. “We’ve been missing out all this time.”

He laughs softly, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “It was worth the wait though!”

********

After a quick shower and a necessary trip to the pharmacy down the block, you and Jihoon return to your apartment with bags of late-night snacks. All that sexual activity had certainly worked up an appetite, and you found yourself craving something sweet. An ice cream waffle cone hit the spot for you.

“Are you okay?”

You smile, endeared at his worrying. “You know, you’ve asked me that same question multiple times now, and I’ll keep giving you the same answer—I’m fine. Great, actually!”

“I know, I know,” he responds sheepishly. “I just hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us.”

“Trust me, I don’t feel awkward about any of this at all,” you respond with complete sincerity before facing him to find out if he felt the same way you did. “Do you?”

He shakes his head, tilting the bag of Skittles into his mouth. “Nope,” he answers between chews. “To be honest, I thought that was fucking mind-blowing!”

You inhale sharply at his candid comment, nodding in agreement. “Same. Absolutely no complaints from me!”

He gets up from the couch, takes out a small box from the shopping bag to set it aside, and stuffs your discarded candy wrappers into it before heading to the kitchen to throw them away.

When he returns from the kitchen, your eyes linger on him. “Thanks, Jihoonie,” you whisper. “For…everything.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies with a wink before sinking back into the couch beside you.

This turned out to be the complete opposite of your initial fears. Not only did this one-off experiment exceed all your expectations, but it seems your friendship remained the same. Though you never would have guessed that your best friend would end up giving you the best orgasms of your life.

As you continue to enjoy your treat, you notice Jihoon’s eyes fixed on your tongue as it swirls around the chocolate ice cream. His dark eyes watching you with the same intensity as when you came undone with his touch earlier.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “Quit staring at me like that,” you cautioned, though your tone suggested otherwise.

“Then don’t ever eat an ice cream cone in front of me,” he responds with a chuckle as he subtly adjusts himself beneath his pants.

You bite your lip, feeling a warmth between your legs again. “You know...” you clear your throat, reaching for the box of condoms he left on the coffee table, “I wonder if these things really live up to the ‘raw’ feel.”

He clicks his teeth dismissively before responding. “I think it’s false advertising.”

“You think so?”

He takes the box from you, examining the label. “I mean, we do have a perfect point of comparison,” he reasons, a smile ghosting his lips. “Should we find out?”

You stare at each other for a moment before breaking into grins and exclaiming in unison, “For science!”

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singmyaubade · 2 days ago

Text

Cindy Lou Who

james potter x slytherin!female!reader

summary: you and lily have been polar opposites from birth, disconnected in everything. but when the one thing she has crosses the bounds, you can't avoid it even if it destroys you.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing , jealousy

a/n: it's part 2! no, its not a dorcas and y/n love story.

i hope you enjoy and you can fw it or not, not my issue.

—

The journey to James's parents’ cabin had already been a nightmare in the making, but the fact that you somehow found yourself stuck in the car with the Marauders made it feel like the universe had personally conspired against you. It was as if Lily was trying to send a message to make you never speak to her again.

Ten minutes earlier:

You stepped off the train, dragging your suitcase behind you, and made your way toward Lily and her usual entourage. You could already feel the tension between you and the rest of the group, but at least Lily was there to distract you.

"Ah, Y/N!" Lily cheered, her arms suddenly wrapped around you in a hug. You stiffened slightly, offering an awkward smile as she pulled back to look at you. Her grin continued to grow, "We were just discussing seating assignments," She explained, glancing at the group, which was all standing around and debating loudly.

"I voted for apparating. It's quicker, and no one has to listen to Sirius whine the entire time," James grumbled, shooting an annoyed look at Sirius, who was lounging against the wall with an exaggerated sigh.

"Well for one, your apparating skills absolutely scare me," Dorcas chimed in.

Mary snorted. "Yeah, I’m pretty sure we'd show up without a neck if either of you tried to apparate us," She said, resting her head on Dorcas’s shoulder, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked over at the two boys.

Sirius immediately recoiled, "Excuse me? Leave me out of this, my apparition skills are impeccable if you ladies must know," He said, puffing out his chest and sticking his tongue out at both of them.

Marlene chuckled, chiming in, the sound light and teasing as she looked at you. "Yeah, I think we need someone with actual skill, not just a big ego." She glanced at Sirius, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Sirius shot her a playful glare, but his lips twitched as though he might actually be enjoying the banter. "You wound me, Mar. But I’ll have you know, I’ve never left anyone in a heap of twisted limbs," He said, half-defensive, half-proud.

You sighed, clearly tired of their antics as Dorcas spoke again, "Okay, okay, if you two are done with the theatrics, how about we get someone who actually knows how to apparate without leaving us in the wrong century?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow dramatically, looking at you, "Well, actually, someone insists that ‘bonding time’ means suffering in cramped cars with people you barely know, which is really quite charming," He said as if everyone was meant to agree with his sarcasm.

James shot a playful look at Lily, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Don't blame my little Lily-bear for her big heart," He teased, only for her to stomp on his foot, causing him to yelp.

“I don’t even understand why we discussed apparition in the first place,” Lily huffed, annoyed, “We are driving and that is final.”

You snorted at the sight, feeling momentarily distracted from the impending doom of the ride. Mary, ever the voice of reason, cleared her throat. "Ok Mother, back to the cars. Who's in which?"

You raised an eyebrow, scanning the group with mild skepticism. "Can any of you actually drive?" The question hung in the air, and for a split second, the group fell into silence, as if your voice had been the last thing they expected.

"Well, Remus and I can," Dorcas answered with a grin, clearly amused by your audacity. "And James already asked his parents to send over two cars," She added, her eyes twinkling.

"Wow, loaded with money, Potter?" You teased, turning to James, who shot you a mockingly smug grin.

"Don't act like you didn’t know," He replied with a wink as if he always knew how to make your sarcasm work in his favor.

"And how many people can each car fit?" Mary asked, eager to move things along.

"Four each, including the driver," James answered, his voice laced with confidence.

"Well, this is perfect!" Lily exclaimed happily, her voice full of relief. "Peter can't make it anyway, so Y/N can take his spot!"

Your stomach twisted. "Excuse me?" You nearly gagged, your face contorting in disbelief.

Lily’s eyes softened with an apologetic look. "Oh, don’t worry! They won’t bite, I promise," She assured you, gesturing to the Marauders, who were now standing off to the side like a haphazardly formed band of troublemakers.

You couldn’t hide the disgust that flashed across your face as you looked at the group. The thought of being stuck in a car with them—all of them—felt like some cruel twist of fate. “Can’t you just ride with the boys?” You asked, crossing your arms and giving Lily a pleading look.

Lily hesitated for a moment before offering a sheepish smile. “I could, but I kind of want you to get along with them, Y/N. I really don’t want to force you into anything, but they’re good people underneath the mess," She said sincerely, rubbing your palm comfortingly.

You felt the pressure building. On one hand, you wanted to be a complete brat and insisted that you’d rather take your chances with a single, less painful car ride with the girls. But on the other, you knew this trip wasn’t about you. It was Lily’s weekend, and you couldn’t spoil it just because the Marauders were a walking headache.

"Actually, Lily, it's fine," You sighed, rolling your eyes. "It’s just a four-hour car ride. I’ll survive."

Lily looked at you, her eyes full of sincerity. "Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable—"

"Yes," You groaned dramatically, cutting her off. "But if you ask me again, I will change my mind."

Lily’s face lit up with a sweet, relieved smile. “Thank you, Y/N,” She whispered in your ear, pulling you into another hug.

You smiled faintly despite the dread that churned in your stomach. You lightly pushed her off, trying to hide the weirdly sentimental feeling. "Let’s get this over with, then," You muttered, grabbing your luggage and marching toward the exit.

As you walked out of the station, you could hear the sound of the Marauders’ footsteps trailing behind you, their chatter and laughter loud enough to make you wince. Your fate was sealed, and you had no choice but to endure the upcoming car ride with them.

But who knew? Maybe the next four hours wouldn’t be as bad as you were imagining.

Thirty minutes into the car ride, and you were already questioning every decision you’d ever made in life.

For one, Sirius and James hadn’t stopped talking since you left the station. It was like they were competing to see who could out-talk the other, their voices blending into an incoherent mess of loud jokes, sarcasm, and the occasional burst of laughter. You swore you could hear Sirius’s voice every five seconds, but it was impossible to tell what he was even saying.

The only bearable one in the bunch was Remus—the designated driver, who for the most part, was quietly focused on the road. He had a way of staying out of the chaos, and you were thankful for that. If he’d joined in, you might have just jumped out of the car.

Unfortunately, luck had not been on your side, and James was sitting right next to you. Of course, he was. As if this trip hadn’t already been your own personal hell, the universe had decided it would be even more fun if you were forced to endure James’s company.

The luggage was shoved behind you both, making the car feel cramped in every possible way. And somehow, the small space between you and James seemed to grow more suffocating by the second.

It wasn’t like you hated him—well, maybe you did a little bit right now—but he wasn’t exactly your favorite person to be sitting next to. Especially in a tiny car where you had no choice but to pretend that everything was fine.

And to make matters worse, James had been sneaking glances at you every couple of minutes. You could feel his eyes on you, even when you kept your focus fixed firmly on the road ahead, your chin resting in your palm as you leaned against the cool window, trying to ignore the constant pounding in your skull.

You tried your best not to react. You weren’t about to make eye contact with him or give him any reason to think you wanted to engage. The last thing you needed was him making some stupid comment about how uncomfortable you were being, as if that would make it any better.

But no matter how much you ignored him, you could still feel him there, like a weight pressing on your chest.

You wondered—truly wondered—how you had managed to get yourself stuck on what was likely the worst trip in the history of trips. It wasn’t even like you’d had a choice in the matter.

You were thinking that perhaps you should've grabbed a book from your bag or even your Walkman from home.

Anything to avoid the chaotic, uncomfortable mess that was currently your reality.

But then again, you still wanted to make Lily happy. It was her weekend, and you knew how much this trip meant to her.

And you knew you had to endure this for her, even if that meant suffering through endless hours of loud barking and James Potter’s stupid glances.

But you were starting to develop a newfound dislike for the countryside and for the stupid cabin you were heading to, and especially for James Potter and his stupid face.

You were stopped in your train of thought by the loud crunching in your ears as you looked beside you in disgust to see James eating Sour Cream & Onion chips loudly.

You had hoped that James would choke on the chips he was shoveling into his mouth right then and there, but he was luckily immune to your silent prayers. Instead, his eyes flicked over to you as he extended the bag in your direction, his mouth still full.

“Want some?” He asked, chewing loudly, completely oblivious to the venom in your stare.

You groaned, slumping back in your seat and closing your eyes, hoping that maybe—just maybe—you could escape the situation by sheer force of will. But no. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to get rid of James Potter. You could still feel his gaze on you, heavy and unrelenting, like a hot spotlight.

“You know,” James continued, completely oblivious to your very clear displeasure, “You could be a little nicer.”

Before you could respond, Sirius—who had been quietly enjoying the chaos—turned around in the front seat, his usual shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “Slytherins are incapable of that. It’s not in their blood.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could snap back, Remus muttered a resigned “Sirius,” trying to rein him in.

You leaned forward, making sure your voice was dripping with sarcasm as you met James’s gaze, “And Gryffindors are incapable of not being complete and utter twats.”

James’s eyes lit up with amusement at your choice of words. You could see the smug little grin forming at the corner of his mouth, like he was proud of his ability to get under your skin.

“Ah, she speaks!” He said dramatically, as if this was some huge victory. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes and groaning. “I was beginning to think you were either deaf—or perhaps a robot.”

Your eyes narrowed as you leaned in just a little closer, meeting his gaze, keeping it steady. “I believe you’ve got something right here.” You moved in slowly, and you could see his face flush just slightly, his lips parting as if he was about to say something.

You didn’t give him the chance. “Right here…” You muttered, keeping your eyes locked on his, before quickly flicking your finger against his forehead.

James immediately shot his hand up to his forehead, wincing as though he’d been hit with a particularly nasty spell. You couldn't help but smile brightly, crossing your arms triumphantly. You were winning.

Sirius, of course, couldn’t help himself. He started laughing so hard it almost sounded like he was barking. “Wow, Y/N—1, Prongs—0!” he whooped, throwing you a thumbs-up from the front.

You heard the nickname, but your victory felt too sweet to care about it right now. You were too busy basking in your small but satisfying win. Maybe it was the most minor of triumphs, but seeing James’s smug confidence deflate for even a moment was pure, unadulterated joy.

James, still rubbing his forehead, pouted dramatically. “Good to know," He muttered under his breath, though you could hear the faint hint of amusement in his voice. “That’s what makes you happy.”

You leaned back in your seat, your grin never wavering. “You have no idea, Potter,” You said, crossing your arms again, feeling very much like you’d won the game.

You suddenly decided to just take a nap for the remaining two hours of the trip, head leaning against the cold window.

At least then, this trip will be bearable.

"Aww, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes?" You heard a voice mutter, and your eyes blinked open to see Sirius staring down at you with that signature smirk of his.

You hummed in confusion, realizing that your head was no longer against the window but resting on the broad canvas of a shoulder and jaw.

Your eyes widened as you quickly snapped up, inadvertently knocking your head into James's chin. He groaned in protest as you hissed from the pain in your own skull, rubbing it with one hand.

Sirius barked out a laugh, the sound loud and unmistakably amused. You shot him a death glare. James whined like a child. "Couldn’t you have just gotten up softly?" he asked, tending to his chin as if it were more damaged than it likely was.

"I was repulsed," You said bluntly, crossing your arms over your chest.

James smirked, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Didn’t seem that way with your head on my shoulder," He teased, and before you could stop yourself, your fist landed squarely in his shoulder. He groaned dramatically.

You hated how easy it was for him to tease you, it was almost as if he didn't hate you as much as you hated him.

"Shut up, Potter," You muttered under your breath, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

Finally, Remus got out of the car, and you were beyond relieved to be able to stretch your legs and get out of the cramped space. As you stepped out into the fresh air, you were hit with the sight of the cabin—a massive wooden oak structure that dwarfed most houses you had seen. Of course, it shouldn’t have been a surprise with James's family wealth, but it was still impressive.

"Admiring something?" James’s voice called out from behind you, and you turned to see him watching you with that grin of his.

You stepped toward him, eyebrows furrowing. "We were trapped in a car for four hours together, and you still want to annoy me?" You asked, annoyed.

James’s grin only widened, something almost unreadable flickering in his eyes. "It’s just so fun," He said sweetly, his tone laced with something that made you furrow your brows deeper.

He moved past you with that same self-assured confidence, and you couldn’t help but watch him for a moment, your mind swirling with an odd mix of curiosity and frustration.

What an odd boy.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud cheers, and you turned to see Lily and the other girls finally arriving at the cabin. Lily immediately rushed over to you, throwing her arm around your shoulders. "This is going to be so fun!" She exclaimed excitedly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Your expression remained indifferent as you shrugged off her arm. "Sure it will, Lils," You said, barely hiding the boredom in your voice as you moved past her toward the cabin entrance.

Inside, the cabin was everything you expected—grand yet homely. Fairy lights twinkled on the ceiling and wound their way along the railings of the stairs, casting a warm, soft glow. A beautifully decorated Christmas tree stood in the corner of the living room, and the fireplace was already crackling with flames, filling the air with the comforting scent of wood smoke.

You couldn’t help but admire the place, its charm undeniable.

Okay, maybe you were admiring it a little more than you wanted to admit.

As much as you wanted to keep exploring the cabin, you couldn’t help but feel the overwhelming desire to just collapse into a bed and escape the chaos for a bit.

The car ride had been long—four hours spent crammed between the Marauders and Lily, with Sirius and James' constant bickering as background noise. You could already feel the tension in your shoulders from it.

You made your way up the stairs, eyes scanning the doors with name cards carefully placed next to them. It was so Lily to do something like that—everything organized to the tiniest detail. When you reached your door, you saw your name beside Dorcas’s.

You hadn’t spent much time with Dorcas, but from what you’d gathered, she was a bit of a mystery.

She was quiet in a way that was similar to you, but then, the next moment, she was all sharp humor and a wild streak of extroversion. It was interesting to watch her switch between the two.

You just hoped she didn’t have any issue with Slytherins. You’d heard whispers from some Gryffindors, and while you liked to think you were nothing like the stereotypical Slytherin, you still didn’t feel like being judged by a new person.

James and Sirius were already enough of a headache on that front.

You pushed the door open and stepped into the room, instantly relieved by the sight of two beds with nightstands and soft lamps. It was cozy—nothing too extravagant, but warm. There were two separate closets as well, and a part of you actually sighed in relief. Privacy. That was something you valued deeply.

"Thank God for separate closets," Came a voice from behind you, and you turned to find Dorcas already standing in the room, “Sharing a closet can drive me absolutely nuts, I need the privacy,” She added. You hadn’t even heard her come in. Her eyes were fixed on the closets, and somehow it felt like she’d read your mind. "As do you," She added, her voice light and as if she head read your mind.

"I—I do," You stammered, caught off guard.

Something about Dorcas always made you feel a little out of your depth, though you weren’t sure why. She had this way of being so at ease with herself, and it was hard not to be a little intimidated.

Dorcas just shrugged, as if your reaction was nothing new. She walked over to the bed, settling herself against the headboard with a relaxed sigh. "Honestly, I’m glad we’re rooming together. That car ride was chaos. I’m not sure I’ve recovered yet."

You chuckled awkwardly, the tension still clinging to your limbs. "Agreed," you muttered, fiddling with your bag as you unpacked some of your things into the closet. You felt Dorcas’s eyes on you, but when you looked over, she was giving you a teasing smirk, as though she could see right through you.

"The Marauders weren’t too insufferable, I hope?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

You laughed dryly. "Well, Remus was a saint," You said, trying to keep it light. "Black and Potter, though? Bloody migraines." You sighed, shaking your head as you hung up a few shirts. "I don’t know how they do it. They thrive on being insufferable, I swear."

Dorcas let out a soft laugh, a mix of amusement and sympathy. "That’s their usual act," She said, as if it were the most predictable thing in the world. "Don’t worry—you’ll get used to it. Or at least, you’ll stop being surprised." She shifted, lying back and staring up at the ceiling, her hands behind her head.

You looked at her, unsure if you were ready to get used to them.

It's like she could read your expression or your thoughts in general.

Dorcas gave you a quiet smile. "You’ll get there," She said with surprising wisdom for someone who seemed so carefree. "Just don’t take it too seriously. They’re all talk."

I hope I never do, you thought, but kept it to yourself.

You couldn't help but think of how you would ever survive this entire trip. In all honestly, you would rather have spent it with Petunia degrading you.

And you were incredibly worried that the tension in your spine would always still there.

You looked at Dorcas questioningly, "Do you think this trip is going to be fun?" You asked, your voice quieter now as you paused in the middle of unpacking.

Dorcas rolled over onto her side, propping her head up with one hand as she looked at you with a thoughtful expression. "I think it'll be interesting. Not sure if 'fun' is the word I’d use. But you never know. It’s a change of pace, at least." She smiled. "One thing’s for sure: it’s going to be memorable."

"Let’s hope it’s the good kind of memorable," You muttered, smiling slightly despite yourself.

"Trust me, I’ve got a feeling this is going to be one for the books," Dorcas replied, giving you an amused look.

You gave Dorcas a slight smile as you both suddenly heard a thump downstairs and several voices of laughter as Dorcas stood, smiling, "Think I'm gonna check up on everyone down there, wanna come?" She asked, looking at you.

You fake yawned, stretching out on the bed. "I think I'll actually take a nap, feeling quite drowsy," You said, trying to keep the tone casual.

Dorcas gave you a smile, but there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. "Okay," She replied softly before turning and heading for the door. She closed it behind her, leaving you alone in the room.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. Dorcas was nice, but you really didn’t feel like hanging out with the whole group right now. It was just too much.

You reached for your backpack, hoping to lose yourself in time with a book. But when you opened it, your stomach sank. No books.

"Fuck," You muttered, frustrated. You never forgot your books. You always packed them, even for short trips.

You flopped back on the bed, groaning. This wasn’t going how you’d planned.

After a few moments, you grabbed your toiletries and towels.

Screw it.

A shower would help clear your head.

You turned the tap, and the hot water came on quickly. Stepping into the stream, you let the heat wash over you, hoping it would erase the tension from your body.

The noise of the water filled the bathroom, and for a moment, everything felt quiet.

You sighed deeply, letting go of the frustration. It wasn’t ideal, but you’d figure things out later. For now, you’d let the world outside the bathroom fade away.

After a nice, long shower, you slipped into a soft nightgown, figuring you wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight. The warmth of the cabin made it easy to settle in, and you were content with some peace and quiet.

But as you put your things down, you suddenly heard Lily’s voice ringing out from downstairs.

"AAAAAH!" Her scream echoed through the house, followed by frantic footsteps.

You froze, heart racing. Was she hurt? You quickly rushed out of your room, ready to help. The moment you reached the top of the stairs, though, you saw her laughing hysterically in the living room.

"I told you she would come down!" Lily called, gleefully looking at James and Sirius, her hand outstretched for galleons.

You blinked, your heart slowing as you saw the grin on her face. "What the hell?" You muttered, out of breath.

James was looking at you in wide-eyed awe, but you couldn’t help noticing how your nightgown was just a little too revealing—way more than you’d planned for. The last thing you needed was to give James any more ammunition.

"Really, Lily?" You scoffed, already turning to head back upstairs.

"Wait!" Lily rushed to you, her eyes pleading as she grabbed your arm. "Just come hang out for a little bit!"

You immediately thought 'Fuck no!' but then you thought,

It's her trip.

You glanced at her, and despite everything, her puppy-dog eyes got to you. "I suppose.." You muttered, giving in.

Lily squealed, her excitement infectious as she pulled you downstairs. "We’re about to start the puzzle!" She said with a huge grin.

You raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to laugh or groan. "A puzzle?" You teased. "Are we in fourth year?"

Lily pouted. "Stop being such a buzzkill."

Marlene leaned over from the couch with a smirk. "Lils always makes us do something childish on the first night. Gets it out of our system before the real fun starts."

"Exactly," Mary added. "A bit of innocence before we dive into the chaos."

"And so she doesn’t feel guilty when we get wild later," Sirius teased, his grin mischievous.

Lily stuck her tongue out at them. "I do it because it’s fun! And once we finish, we can glue it and hang it up. Isn’t that cute?"

James groaned dramatically. "But Remus and Dorcas always do the best work, and the rest of us just give up."

Lily shot him a look. "Not this time. This time, we all finish it fast."

Well, that didn’t turn out to be the case.

Lily had, of course, accidentally bought a 900-piece puzzle, and it was much more complicated than anyone had expected.

You, Remus, and Dorcas were the only ones making any real progress. You were surprisingly good at it, which seemed to amuse everyone else. The three of you worked mostly in silence, with you passing pieces to Remus and Dorcas helping out when necessary.

Meanwhile, the others had either given up or wandered off. Lily, Marlene, and Mary were baking cookies, and Sirius was napping on the couch, his loud snoring filling the room.

But, as always, James was not one to leave you alone for long.

"How are you guys still working on that?" He whined, popping up beside you and peering over your shoulder. "It’s annoying and difficult!"

"Just like you," You muttered with a sly grin, not looking up from the puzzle.

James’s started smirking. "Sorry, what was that?"

You scoffed, "Just like y-"

Before you could finish your sentence, James was behind you, fingers digging into your sides, tickling you mercilessly. You yelped, trying to push him off, but he only laughed louder, his hands relentless.

Dorcas and Remus exchanged amused glances, clearly entertained by the scene unfolding.

"Say it again!" James demanded, his voice obnoxiously loud.

You gasped for breath, trying to squirm away from his grasp. "Stop it, Potter!" You barely managed to keep your voice serious, but it came out more like a laugh.

"Okay, say I’m the most brilliant person at Hogwarts!" he pressed, his grin wide.

"I will never say that!" You laughed, finally able to wiggle out of his grasp.

"Come on!" James pushed, tickling you more.

"Okay, okay!" You cried, laughing helplessly. "You’re the most brilliant person in Hogwarts, now get off!"

James finally relented, sitting back with a smug smile. "That’s what I thought."

You quickly adjusted your nightgown, your face flushed with embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you just got into a tickle fight with James Potter—of all people.

Lily appeared, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "What just happened out here?" She asked, her voice teasing. "I heard you laughing."

You turned away, trying to hide your embarrassment. "You didn’t hear anything."

"Actually—" James started, but you punched him lightly in the knee, making him wince.

"—I heard nothing," He corrected quickly, his voice strained as he rubbed his leg.

Lily flashed a knowing smile. "Sure," She said, winking at you before heading back into the kitchen.

You groaned inwardly. This was only the beginning, and already Lily was convinced you were best friends with her friends.

Your mind drifted back to earlier, to James’s behavior and how Lily always seemed to indulge him. It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

"I'm heading up," You said abruptly, not waiting for an answer as you made your way to the stairs.

"But the cookies aren’t ready yet!" James called after you, his voice almost pleading.

"Enjoy them when they are," You snapped, already heading up to your room.

As you reached your door and flopped onto your bed, you let out a long, frustrated sigh. This was going to be a weird trip.

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multipleoccupancy · 3 days ago

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He sensed their topic was helping her too and so Theo was comfortable in staying with it for the time being. Not realising the path he was sending Samantha down as she started to express her thoughts. She started talking about how she had been recruited and Theo paused to watch her, silent and still, worried that a single movement or too loud a breath might startle her from speaking. She never mentioned it and he later learned that it was not something that should be asked or really revealed to others.

Her story sounded harrowing though! She was almost sacrificed to hybrids? He might have never known her, she could had died and he'd have been none the wiser. He caught that disguised sob, he knew her too well now and stopped what he was doing with the net to cross the space between them and pull Samantha into a tight and protective hug.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, but I am so glad you made it out of there." He was sure to say very clearly but there was a short and quiet rasp to his voice as he was sure to hold back his tears and his horror. "We can help this guy, we'll do all we can. It's going to be ok and we'll make sure this never happens to anyone else again." He promised, or at least thought he could without the sense to remember that there was a big wide world out there with cultists lurking and waiting.

Unaware he was doing very little to settle Violet's nerves around his counterpart, Sloane kept up the act comfortably, smiling politely to the man as Violet thanked him too and then to her, still so tired and polite as she gave her own response. Oh she was very good! He'd have to tell her when they got out of ear shot!

The man returned with the key to the dorm and Sloane's ID card. "Here you go Professor Parry, Miss Parry," he said as kindly as he could, clearly trying to do his best to seem professional in the moment. In truth, Sloane thought they now had the perfect set up for him to leave unannounced in a few days, of course he would have to look after dear cold and tired little Astrid.

"Ah! Thank you," Sloane was quick to say but he took the key and card calm and polite, "You hold onto the key for me?" He offered to Violet, holding out the little door key for her to take. "Don't lose it now, be sure to hold on tight to it," he encouraged as perhaps a tired father might, not quite able to see his daughter as fifteen yet, still young and in need of encouragement. "I'll just put this back in here," he explained as he pretended to fumble around with his wallet again to put the card back in, seemingly getting frustrated and jamming it in half way before closing the wallet again.

"You've been our saviour tonight," Sloane praised the man, putting his hand back on Violet's shoulder. "I'll be sure to tell Stacey how helpful you've been, I can't thank you enough." He even let a little bit of tears flood his eyelashes without actually letting them fall. "What a nice man," he told Violet with a small smile, "let's get you set up in the room and settled in, we can take the sleeping bag from my car, it'll be like when we used to go camping, just without the mosquitoes," He gave a tired laugh and started to head back towards the door to leave. Thrilled with their performance.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Focusing on a possible solution helped Samantha, too. It kept her mind away from the plan, from her being bait. "Yes, you're right. It was probably a ritual or something of the sort. Maybe we can force him to do the reverse ritual if there's one." Oh, right. Violet had seen a woman turned into a monster. "Maybe he's hiding a monster somewhere, yes. Or maybe he's using some monster poison? Injecting it in the student's veins?"

She paused, her fingers resting on the rope. "I don't know if it works the same way, but... I saw things. Similar things. It's how I got recruited. I don't talk about it because..." Samantha looked down at the net. "It was horrible. Someone died." Her lip quivered. "It was a fertility clinic. They were making... hybrids? I don't really know. Half-monsters, half-babies. I worked there as an intern, and I had no idea this was happening. I thought it was a normal clinic. But one day, they tried to sacrifice me and another intern. They wanted to feed us to the monsters. I managed to escape, but..." The other intern was not so lucky. "I couldn't save him."

Samantha disguised a sob behind an awkward cough. "There was no turning them back, these creatures. They had never been fully human in the first place, anyway."

Violet was really very impressed by Sloane, how easily he played his part. But it was a little bit scary, too. Like with the flick of a switch, he had turned into a single dad, worried about his daughter. No wonder she always got tricked by the Sloane she knew. He didn't just disguise himself, he transformed himself.

"Thanks, Dad," she whispered just as low when he offered her his lunchbox. He was expertly making their situation seem even more heartbreaking to the man behind the desk. And it worked, too, because here he was, offering them a room -the room Sloane told her would be ideal.

This little charade reminded her of how much she missed her dad and her home in New York. When her eyes got just a little bit shinier, she wasn't playing. She did feel like crying.

"Thank you so much, sir," she was sure to say with a grateful smile. And when he disappeared into the office and Sloane suggested they get McDonald's the next day, she followed his example and continued with her own part -the tired daughter. "Really? I'd like that a lot," she replied, careful not to sound too excited -this was supposed to be a consolation prize after all.

#hvbris #killian #violet #asoue au

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ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat · 2 days ago

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girlfriend?

spencer reid x fem!reader

the people have spoken (the 8 votes on my poll) so here!!!

no use of y/n

fluff and maybe kinda sorta comfort??

summary: reader wonders why exactly she's not spencer's girlfriend and he's more than happy to play along

warnings: reader is younger and has never had a boyfriend, mention of roommate, awkwardness??, new relationship, kissing, reader uses physical affection to distract spencer, "i'm fine" no you're not!!!, insecurities and simply spencer being a cutie

my very first time writing fanfiction and posting my writing!!! please give feedback

After a long day of daydreaming and a rather upsetting conversation with my roommate, I've come to realize that I'm technically not Spencer's girlfriend. I mean, he's never asked me to be. Of course he's sweet and we've kissed several times but he's never formally asked. I've never had a boyfriend so I just assumed that one or two dates ultimately meant together. Apparently that's not right. Maybe I'm overreacting and maybe I'm not cut out for this dating thing but why hasn't he asked? We can hardly go a day without seeing each other. Doesn't that mean something? Maybe I'm insane because that's highly likely, too.

Although anticipating it, I still jump when he knocks. The door opens and it's clear that he came straight from work, his messenger bag on his shoulder. Like every other day, we walk straight to my bedroom and he leaves his satchel on the same old cushioned chair.

Spencer places his hands in his pockets, his eyes floating over me dubiously.

"Are you alright?"

Well, that took all of three seconds.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I answer, fiddling with my pajama shorts' strings. There's no way I'm turning psycho-not-even-girlfriend on him because he hasn't defined our relationship. Because of the chance he doesn't want me to be his girlfriend, that's a conversation I'm not having.

His eyes narrow and he steps closer. "You're fidgeting, avoiding eye contact... not to mention that you've hardly spoken to me since I've got here which is just... not you at all. You always talk."

"Hey!" I frown.

I watch as his hands come up to hold my face and I begrudgingly look him in the eye only to find concern. "Did I do something?" he asks softly.

My head shakes in his hands. He drops them. "You didn't do anything wrong."

He notices the emphasis, following me when I go to sit on the edge of my bed. I'll never get over how out of place Spencer looks in my room.

His eyebrows raise as he looks down at me. I feel like I'm in trouble. "But I did something apparently."

"Nope," I hum simply, pulling him down by the tie to mush our lips together with little grace. The reciprocation was fleeting, his mouth briefly opening only to move away as fast as it came. "See? I'm fine," I grin unconvincingly.

"You're a terrible liar. Tell me what's wrong," he sighs, stuck between worried and annoyed.

He steps back, eliciting a whine from me. My eyes drop and I figure that I might as well dance around it since I'm a terrible liar. Picking at the loose string on my comforter, I murmur, "do you... um... you like me, right?"

Confusion draws his eyebrows together. "Of course I do. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Honestly, I'd be crazy not to. What told you I didn't?"

"I'm not your girlfriend," I whisper pathetically, eyes never leaving my fidgeting fingers.

I can practically feel the realization hit him. A shaky breath that never quite becomes a nervous laugh leaves him before he responds gently, "I haven't asked you to be. Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

My head finally lifts, a slight frown on my lips as I nod.

"Will you be?"

My eyes go wide and I freeze. "What?"

He laughs softly, walking a few steps closer before crouching down to my level. "Will you be my girlfriend... please?" he asks politely, a tiny smile on his face.

I nod eagerly before I can do anything else. When words do come out, they're frantic like I can't get them out fast enough. "Yes! Yep! Mhm. Please."

This time, when I kiss him, he doesn't hesitate or pull away, he smiles, hands finding my face and brushing away any stray hairs. A thought occurs and I break the kiss, thumbs brushing his cheeks. "So... why didn't you ask before?" I ask almost absentmindedly.

He swallows and very gently mutters, "I didn't know if you'd want me to be your boyfriend."

I can feel my heart melting as I press a soft peck to his mouth. How did he not know? Isn't the way I'm constantly nervous obvious to him? I'm not exactly good at masking anything.

"Of course I did. I do. And now you are my boyfriend so how about that?" I smile and he does too.

"I'm glad," he laughs.

"Me too."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #fanfic #criminal minds

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kiwriteswords · 2 days ago

Note

cliche tropes: always missing the other person saying ‘i love you’ like not realising the other persons asleep, they can’t hear you over the noisy police precinct, think they’re talking to someone else

But you know you're not dreaming [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: >1k|| AN: LOVE a good ole cliche trope! Thanks for sending this in!!

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, drabble, saying 'i love you' for the first time, tropes, established relationship, mentions of a draining case, insomnia? if you squint, confessions of love, fluff!! fluffy fluff, Hotch's POV

Summary: In the middle of the night, when you think Hotch is asleep, you feel brave enough to share those three little words you feel so deeply about him.

In the quiet of the night, the only sound Aaron Hotchner could hear was the steady rhythm of his own heart—a sound he had grown all too familiar with in the solitude that often accompanied his late hours. But tonight was different. Tonight, the soft, steady breaths of the woman lying beside him in bed filled the room with a gentle cadence that spoke of peace and a contentment long thought lost to him.

You had been together for only a few months, yet the bond between you seemed to stretch beyond the confines of time. You fit into his life seamlessly, a soothing presence not just for him but for Jack as well. The way you smiled at his son, the laughter you brought into their home—it healed parts of him he’d resigned to be forever broken.

Hotch had been lying on his back, eyes closed, feigning sleep. The day had been long, a case draining more from him than he cared to admit. You thought he was asleep, lost to dreams and the darkness of the night. It was in this quiet moment, believing herself unobserved, that you decided to practice the words you hadn’t yet dared to say aloud.

“I love you, Aaron,” you whispered, the words a tentative exploration, testing how they felt in the privacy of what you believed was your unshared silence. “I love you so much it scares me.”

Hotch’s breath hitched silently in his throat. He remained perfectly still, scarcely believing what he was hearing. The vulnerability in your voice, the confession of your love—these were gifts he never expected to receive again.

You continued, unaware of his wakefulness, the soft cadence of your voice threading through the darkness. “I don’t know if I’m ready to tell you yet, but God, I love you. I hope you feel the same.”

Every word you uttered struck a chord within him, resonating deep in his soul. It wasn’t just the declaration but the fear, the hope, and the raw honesty that accompanied it. Hotch had known loss, had known the bitter sting of a love ended too soon, and had doubted whether he could ever open his heart again. But here, beside him, lay the reason he had dared to try once more.

Slowly, Hotch turned towards you, opening his eyes to the dimly lit room where moonlight cast gentle shadows across your face. Seeing you so close, the lines of worry softened by sleep, he knew he had found something extraordinary—not just for himself but for his son as well.

“Aaron?” you murmured, startled, as you felt him move. Your eyes, wide and filled with surprise, met his. The vulnerability you’d felt speaking into the darkness was now laid bare under his gaze.

“I heard you,” Hotch said softly, his voice a low rumble of emotion. “And I’m glad I did.”

Your heart might have stopped—if only for a beat. The enormity of the moment held you both captive.

“I love you too,” he confessed, each word deliberate and true. “I’ve wanted to say it for a while now, but I wasn’t sure how.”

Tears, unbidden but not unwelcome, welled in your eyes as relief and joy mingled in your expression. Hotch reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, thumb brushing away the moisture that escaped your lashes.

“I was scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of saying it first, scared of what it means...”

“Me too,” Hotch acknowledged, his own barriers crumbling in the face of your shared confession. “But we’re in this together, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, a smile breaking through the emotional overflow. “Together.”

In that moment, the world outside their quiet sanctuary seemed inconsequential. There was only the truth of what they shared, a love both profound and profoundly simple in its necessity. As Hotch leaned in, his lips met yours in a kiss that sealed promises neither needed words to express. It was a kiss of understanding, of acceptance, and of a love that, once whispered in the dark, would now light their way forward.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

@iyskgd

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #kiwriteswords #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfictionc #criminal minds imagine #criminalminds #aaronhotchner #Aaron Hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner reader insert #criminal minds fluff

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sirxlla · 1 day ago

Text

You Randomly Get Kidnapped but You Can Handle Yourself (Batboys)

(Requested by @nesting-dreams ily sm thank you for all the ideas/prompts xxx)

------------------------------------------------

Dick: He was never one to have or tell you what you could and couldn't do. For you, you wanted to work a job like a regular person even though he said he would financially support you. You didn't want to feel like you were mooching off of him.

So as unfortunate as it was you were trying to get in your vehicle after working a really long shift at the hospital while on the phone with Dick, a man came up behind you and they were very swiftly beaten with a metal waterbottle.

Dick was obviously very worried cause of what he heard and he was already patroling the area which meant he very swiftly came to you. You were sat ontop of the man, his arms pinned under your knees as you brutally smacked him over and over with a waterbottle.

"You wanna kidnap people in the middle of the night, You Little Shit?!" You were yelling.

Nightwing had to pull you off of the man noticing the damage you did, it took everything for Dick not to laugh at this man. He got beat up by a tired nurse with a fuckin waterbottle, needless to say he was proud and the man was swiftly arrested. The pair of you went home to have a well deserved nap.

Jason: Being the man he is he decided that it was a fantastic idea to give you a very strong tazer for your birthday because he thought you might need it and you really wanted one.

"I hope someone would, I'll taze their dick off!" You waved the uncharged tazer around very happy about the gift.

"You'll taze their dick off?" He laughed as he appreciated your enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, when you hope for something bad to happen it usually brings bad things around, you we're trying to get into the apartment with Jason was on the other side which of course the dumb ass trying to kidnap you didn't realize that.

By the time Jason get out there you were very clearly tasing this mother fucker in the balls. The man was groaning in very obvious pain, a shot of electricity to the family jewels didn't feel very good.

"You wanna go again, Asshole? You want me to taze you in the mouth, I'm sure that shit hurts just as much."

"I think you got him, Babygirl." He was smiling with full pride. He knew you would never use the taser without knowing 100% that you could do it without getting hurt and you very successfully did.

The man was left there and Jason brought you back inside, put your tazer back on the charger and then showed you all the ways he was very proud of you.

Bruce: He really didn't want you to have any sort of self-defense tool because he knew that if you fought back the likelihood that they would hurt you is extremely higher.

Naturally, you being you you bought a little bracelet that if you press it then it makes a very loud noise which can hurt whoever's ears you're pointing it at.

Another feature on there is that it sent him your location which was probably something that he would have been okay with if that's all it did but alas it was not.

From sparring with Bruce you knew a lot and this asshole pissed you off, trying to kidnap a woman while she was pumping gas? "I think the fuck not."

You had very promptly pushed the button and cupped it against the man's ear which caused him to get disoriented and fall flat on his stupid face.

"That's why you don't mess with girls at the gaspump! Suck my metaphorical dick, Motherfucker!" You would think that this was a Fortnite game with the way that you were acting, to anyone else it would have been the funniest thing ever but of course Bruce doesn't have the biggest sense of humor.

He thought what you were doing was reckless and stupid, you should have gotten your car and left. Bruce proceeded to lecture you the entire night about exactly what you should have done and why it was dangerous and how you're lucky that it didn't turn out worse than it was.

"We don't take pride when we hurt someone and we sure as hell don't gloat. What we're you thinking? He couldve got up. That was reckless."

Tim: Tim craved coffee like it was some sort of drug needing to be injected into jis veins and you really really loved the little muffins the coffee shop had. You got up early in the morning and we're making your way to the coffee shop.

You figured out you were being followed quite quickly so of course the only thing you had in your bag was your wallet and maybe a few pens. Nothing the regular person would think would be overly useful in a situation like this.

The pen was useful though if you used it right, it was swiftly brought between your fingers, you texted Tim you were being followed. He very promptly shot out of bed to protect you, throwing on whatever close were scattered around the messy bedroom.

Once he found you, you were leturing the man on all the places you could stick the pen. The man was on the ground pinned to the floor. None of the Batboys were ever gonna let their woman go out of sight without some sorta training.

"I could stick this in your jugular, if you'd like. I could gove you the choice you were never gonna give me."

"You could stick it in his eye, its less lethal and could be considered an accident." Tim chimed in with a smile, the smile on Tim's face was quickly matched by yours.

The man underneath you was panicking because for all he knew you two were complete psychopaths considering jow many Gotham has. He started begging for you to let him go, You got off him while clicking the pen which made him run off like a little crybaby.

Tim and you walked hand and hand to the coffee shop like nothing ever happened. You both knew the pen wasn't what scared him if was your confidence and the way you spouted things off like a crazy person.

Damian: Damian was very much his father's son and he would do the same psychotics weird ass shit that Bruce did. The only difference was he asked you and you very clearly said no to a tracking device being put in you but that did not stop him from doing it and he did it very easily without you noticing.

Of course he didn't know anything was wrong until he noticed that you're tracking device really didn't move too much. He was kinda worried but it was instantly interrupted.

The phone rang and it was a guy calling for ransom while a guy in the background argued with you and said something about you stabbing him in the ass.

"We want a million." The man said off the bat.

"That's all your gonna ask for?!" Then there was the sound of the phone hitting the floor while you beat the shit out of them with a chair leg.

"You should really have better quality shit if you're gonna kidnap someone!" You yelled while the two men grunted on the floor, the first one had had the chair smashed into his back and this one was being wacked with a chair leg.

Damian showed up in regular clothes, he could tell by the phone call you didn't need any help.

"How the fuck did you know where I am?" You asked with clear suspicion and irritation.

"I traced the cell phone call." He lied very easily but there was something off and you could tell. He always kind of scratched his chin when he told you a lie and he had a shitty poker face.

"You put a tracker in me?! When we get home, you are cutting it out. I dont care that you track me but I'd rather not have a weird piece of metal in my body, Damian! I already have this stupid birth control for you, but at least that shit's been tested."

He knew that there was no point in fighting with you so therefore when the both of you got home, he cut it out and he stitched it back up and did everything he could to apologize without actually saying the words. You wore tracking bracelet from then on, a lot less invasive of the body.

Damian definitely was left apologizing over that for months cause he knew he betrayed your wishes and your trust. It was flowers, jewlery, gifts galore. Damian was never good with his words, you knew he was sorry but you wanted him to say it. Once he did the tension between the two of you quickly evaporated into thin air.

-> Masterlist <-

-> Send me prompts if you'd like <-

#batboys #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dick grayson x reader #damian wayne x reader #red hood x reader #batboys x reader #batman x reader #tim drake x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batfamily #batfam #red hood #nightwing x reader #damian wayne

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real-isaac-clarke · 2 days ago

Text

1. Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

I personally call myself nonhuman, if I refer to my nonhumanity at all. I only really use alterhuman as an umbrella term for myself; it's not something I awakened to, or have ever felt awkward for. At least right now, I'm not human.

2. What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

Fused-to-armor and living action figure. I just happen to also be Isaac Clarke; less as a type and more of who I inherently am. When I was still forming, one of the materials in the metaphorical headmate printer was an Enderman, so that's why my RIG glows purple.

3. Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

Nope. Depending on the definition one uses, I'm either always in a shift or never in a shift. I'm a non-canon version of Isaac, but I am him, so I act like him.

4. How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

Trying to engage in my old hobbies (welding, wiring, construction, some other general engineering work). Doesn't work well, but I like learning about them when I can.

That, and... Okay, this might sound funny. But I also experience it by being attracted to people who're like Nicole. Just about everyone in the system has a type, and apparently mine is my fiancee.

5. What do you think of the community?

I try not to judge as a whole, you're gonna meet bad apples everywhere. That being said, fuck Therian Territory (not for the reasons you might think either. Those too, but holy shit they're fatphobic. Violently and oppressively so.) If you're alterhuman and fat, go anywhere but there.

6. What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

Knowing I'm not the only Dead Space alterhuman out there. Engaging with my source helps a lot too.

7. Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

Yeah, but on a really low level. This body bothers me; in my source I was fused to my RIG through some... unpleasant but thankfully unintentional events, making me technically part Necromorph. I really want my suit back.

8. What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

Form your own opinions and don't be afraid to be wrong about your types. Practice thinking with your mind and heart together, and don't be afraid to piss some people off - though that's the life advice we'd give in general.

10. Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

It's because I'm part of a system. Everyone who gets introjected in our system usually gets some form of nonhumanity attributed to them.

Fun fact, we don't actually have a host; Marlin is just the default. We belong to the subconscious itself, not any particular alter, and are all whole people, not parts of one.

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

#Alterhuman #Technically stolen from gay4carver #I know I can come off flat but you genuinely have no idea how happy I am to meet other Dead Space fictives/kins/otherwise connected #Ask Game

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aventurineswife · 2 days ago

Note

I’m

Have a stupid idea

So, reader has been a genshin player for a while and a dedicated Alhaitham main, always gushing over him when they’re able to get a good look at his model. Which, unbeknownst to reader, he can hear them, the characters are aware to some degree. But then they get isekai’d into the game and proceed to avoid him like the plague because he’s very hot intimidating in person and also almost a foot taller than reader

Could I maybe get a drabble or hcs of this stupid lil thing?

“Am I Still Perfect?”

Tags: Alhaitham x Reader, Drabble, Isekai, Fluff, Humor, Light Embarrassment.

A/N: please make sure to read the pinned post next time (especially the closed reqs)🧍‍♀️... I'm making an exception this time but I won't do it again.

You had always admired Alhaitham from the comfort of your screen. His sharp wit, broad shoulders, and meticulously crafted voice lines made him your favorite Genshin character. Pulling him during his banner felt like winning the lottery, and you were notorious among your friends for your constant gushing over him.

“Look at him,” you’d sigh, zooming in on his model during idle animations. “He’s so perfect.”

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham was well aware of your doting admiration. The Traveler’s world (aka your world) wasn’t as disconnected as you thought, and your praises reached his ears like whispers on the wind. He never mentioned it, of course. What use would it be to comment on the opinions of someone from an entirely different dimension?

Then you woke up in Sumeru.

You weren’t sure how it happened, but you were here, flesh and bone in a world you once navigated with a mouse and keyboard (or your phone). The lush foliage and warm breeze were incredible, but so was the realization that you’d be meeting the people you once thought of as mere pixels.

People like him.

The first time you saw Alhaitham in the Akademiya, you nearly fainted. Not because you were starstruck—though you certainly were—but because he was much more intimidating in person. His presence was magnetic, his sharp eyes even more piercing than you could’ve imagined, and his sheer height made you feel like a mouse in the shadow of a falcon.

You ducked behind a bookshelf, heart hammering. No way. Absolutely not. You could not face him.

From then on, you avoided him like the plague. If you saw his hair glinting in the sun, you’d take another path. If you heard his voice nearby, you’d excuse yourself from the conversation and flee.

But Alhaitham wasn’t stupid. He’d noticed you skulking around, eyes wide as you scurried away whenever he entered a room.

“Strange,” he murmured to himself one day. “They seemed far more enthusiastic in their words before.”

Finally, your luck ran out. You turned a corner in the marketplace and smacked straight into him. His firm chest was like a wall, and you stumbled back, your brain short-circuiting as you craned your neck to meet his gaze.

“Careful,” he said, his voice low and measured. “You might hurt yourself running around like that.”

“I—I—uh—” Words failed you.

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?”

Your face burned. Oh no, he noticed?! “N-no reason! You’re just—uh—very busy, and I didn’t want to bother you!”

His lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smirk. “I don’t mind being bothered. In fact, I think you owe me an explanation for all the… glowing praise you’ve been giving me.”

You wanted to sink into the ground. He knows?!

“That’s—uh—it’s not—uh…”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “Am I still… perfect?”

Your knees wobbled. Alhaitham straightened, a satisfied glint in his eye. “I’ll take your silence as a yes. Now then, I believe I’ll see you around more often.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving you frozen, flustered, and thoroughly defeated.

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t-a-a-1 · 1 day ago

Text

Counting Stars

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After a dangerous mission where you almost die, Optimus breaks up with you without knowing you are carrying his sparkling. It's not until seven months later that the universe allows you both to meet once again.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

Counting Stars

...

He almost lost you.

And yet he had to act like he didn't care.

It was to everyone's surprise when he announced that you will no longer be living at the base. It was simple. Due to inner conflicts, you won't be a part of Team Prime any longer.

No one believed it until you came to pick up your things and said your last goodbyes.

Optimus was nowhere to be found.

And no one dared to ask him why.

Only Optimus knows the reason.

He was well aware of his limits. Knowing that the moment he sees you, he would break down. Throw away his pride and ask you to stay forever with him. That he was a complete idiot to believe he could live a single day without you.

What an idiot he indeed is.

It's been a week and he can't do it. Primus, give him strength. He sees you everywhere. He smells you in the flowers, feels your touch in the wind, hears your voice in nature and sees you in the stars. How much he misses to taste your lips once more.

"One more day and I think you will go offline, old friend."

Out of embarrassment, Optimus tries to close the windows in the data-pad screen, he was too focused on looking at pictures of you to notice Ratchet walking close to him.

“What, um-” He keeps closing tabs, each one having a different picture of you. From different angles and expressions. Blurry and not. “What are you referring to, old friend?”

Ratchet doesn't know how to react to this. He has always been aware of Optimus' massive love for you. Of course he knew. Even more now that the bearer of the Matrix can’t seem to function properly without your presence.

Optimus keeps closing taps and Ratchet gets a glimpse of Orion Pax. Trying his best to hide the fact that he messed up.

From innocent pictures, more intimate ones appeared.

“Would you please close your optics?” There is some panic and concern in his voice. But also an authoritative tone to it. “I do not wish for you to see her the way I used to.”

Ratchet just turns around, giving Optimus enough privacy to conclude his activity.

“I had just wanted to check up on your well-being due to recent events. But I am afraid that you are in a worse state than I thought possible.”

He hears more clicking and typing before hearing a heavy ex-vent coming from the Autobot leader.

“You can turn around now.”

“Optimus, you can’t continue like this,” the robot medic takes a look at the screen again. It’s empty but the blue blush on Optimus’ face is still evident. “It’s only been a week. But have you truthly imagined what your life will be after living an eternity without (y/n)?”

Of course he doesn’t think about it. He might be an idiot but not entirely stupid. If he spirals and thinks too much about it he’ll probably lose all sense of responsibility and sanity. He can’t think about no longer being able to see the stars in your eyes. Of not longer hearing the sweetness of your voice or caressing the softness of your skin–

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” Optimus quickly stops thinking. “My fate is sealed and so is hers. Our paths shall never meet again.”

Knowing Optimus for such a long time, Ratchet knows when he is lying. Even he should be aware of how full of scrap that lie is. Still, he wishes to push it further and see for how long Optimus will keep it up.

“If you truthly think that way then delete all of those frames and we shall never speak of her again.”

Their optics met for a few seconds and the gentle look in Optimus’ optics let Ratchet know everything he needed. However, he wanted his friend to be the one to realize it. Some things have to be lived and pain is the best teacher.

“I … I-”

Looking back at the screen, there are no pictures of you. The thought of never seeing you again crosses his mind. He doesn’t have much to remember you by. You had taken all of your things. No longer can he phantom words to deny the truth.

“Why are you putting yourself through all of this pain, old friend? When you and I are aware that you cannot pass a second without thinking of her?”

It was late night at the hangar and all other Autobots had gone to recharge. It was only the two of them and no one dared to ask Optimus about past occurrences that included you.

“I told her … I wish I had never met her.”

Ratchet slowly opens his intake the moment the words slips Optimus’ glossa.

“Even if my spark wishes nothing more but to see her again … I am afraid I have severed the relationship beyond repay.”

There is a pause in which Ratchet wanted to comfort his friend, to say some words of encouragement but he doesn’t know if it will be good enough.

“If only you had seen her face, Ratchet … You would know. I have no right to ask for forgiveness.”

You are the strongest person he knows. He has yet to see you shed a tear, no amount of injuries have made you do so. But that night, between discussions and arguments, he saw your eyes become crystal. The only thing he could do was to look away. He knew he would break as well if he ever became the reason for your suffering.

Seven months passed.

Not a single word from you.

Sometimes, however, Optimus would hear Fowler speak about you. A simple ‘She’s doing fine’ and ‘She has made new friends.’

But that was enough to make him wonder about you. Your new life, friends, if you had found anyone who was of your interest.

“We need the Autobot assistance in transporting a highly classified product across the state.”

He finds himself enjoying putting his life in danger. To take on difficult missions so his mind can be occupied. For those moments he is free from the thoughts of you. Any other second he is busy indulging in his torment from your parting.

Apparently, MECH was extremely interested in this product and had plans to steal it from the CIA. It was the Autobots’ job to prevent that from happening.

The bots surrounded a black bulletproof truck. They weren’t allowed to look at what was inside which did not please them. If they were to protect something, they wanted to know what it was. However, Optimus gave it a one time pass. After all, Fowler has proved himself to be a trusted ally.

The first couple of miles went by easily. With no interruptions.

It wasn’t until it started to go dark that trouble appeared.

MECH had interjected the mission. Using every single gun, missile and bombs at their dispossession. Whatever that black truck was carrying, they wanted it no matter what.

“At this rate we are going to lose the target!”

Arcee screamed through her comm-link as she tried her best to take down as many helicopters as possible without hurting any human in the process. Pretty much against her will but orders were orders.

“These guys are really fighting it out!” Bulkhead was against a few tanks, he had stayed behind to keep them busy while the truck made an attempt to go out of sight. “Are we even sure this thing we are protecting is worth our lives?!”

Optimus was the one closest to the truck, keeping direct contact in case of a disaster.

“Optimus! We won’t be able to keep them away for long!”

Bumblebee chirped in morse code and the Autobot leader knew he had to do something.

He drives faster, facing the two officers that were driving the truck. Side to side, they look at the driverless vehicle.

“Open the trunk and I’ll take the cargo. We won’t be able to hold them for long. I’ll take the cargo somewhere safe while you serve as a distraction. If we don’t do this, you’ll lose it all.”

The military officers look at each other for a small second. Giving a knowing look, they knew what they had to do. They open up the trunk and Optimus slows his driving, taking a look, finally, at what’s inside.

The cargo is you.

He quickly transforms back to his robot mode. Running towards you. He extended a sevo, he wanted you to jump.

You were holding onto the walls of the truck as if your life depended on it. And it did. This was definitely not the encounter you were expecting after not seeing him for seven months. But now it wasn’t the moment to think about that. What happened between the two of you was over. But you still trusted Optimus Prime, the leader he has always been.

“Quickly!”

You run towards him and jump as the trunk is in fast motion. Your feet land on his servo and in less than a second, he transforms back to his vehicle mode. Now you sat safely in the passenger seat. Optimus moves out of the road and drives off into the forest. Getting lost into the massiveness of nature and tall pine trees.

No longer being able to hear chaos, Optimus assumed it was safe to talk.

“Would you care to explain your status and the reasoning to why you are being transported by the American military?”

You weren’t fond of his voice, much less how this conversation started.

“Not even a ‘how are you’ first? You really haven’t changed at all, Prime.”

You say as you cross your arms in front of your chest. Looking outside the window, you wished you were being chased again by MECH.

“Do not dare to call me by titles.”

There were times you called him by his last name. When you were angry and when the two of you were yet to form a relationship. He doesn’t like to reminisce about those times.

“Just let me out. I’ll walk.”

“But–”

“I said … I’ll walk.”

Optimus stops and opens the door for you. You hop out of his vehicle mode and start walking without anywhere in mind.

You put your hands in your oversize hoodie. The last thing you wanted was for him to take a deep look at you. Much less if he starts analyzing your body with stats.

“I don’t think you know where you are supposed to be located,” he says as he transforms back to his regular robot mode.

“I’ll figure it out.”

Optimus begins to panic as you start to walk away. This wasn’t how the reunion was supposed to be. He had dreamt of the next time he saw you. Maybe on a field of flowers and running towards each other. Ending it with an embrace and a passionate kiss.

“Would you listen to reason for once?”

He tries again to engage but he only makes himself sound rude without having those intentions.

“No.”

Would please look at him? It’s been seven months since he last saw you. He’s only seen your eyes through the pictures of his data-pad but they didn’t compare to seeing them in person–

“Why are you following me? I thought you didn’t care.”

You finally turn to look at him.

He can’t control his processor at your sight. Your hair was a nice mess, you were wearing clothes too big for you, maybe to hide the few pounds you gained during this time. Your cheeks were pinker and plumber. Dark circles under your eyes but skin glowing and those beautiful eyes that could put any star in the universe to shame.

Optimus stumbles on his pedes and almost falls on his knees, your beauty too distracting for any living being to be witness of.

“I .. I –”

He can’t believe you are talking to him. This was too soon and no words could leave his voice box as if had forgotten how to speak entirely.

He wanted to say it all. How much he missed you, how desperately he needed you. How there hasn’t been a single day he didn’t think about you. How everything reminded him of you. And how painful has it been every second you are not with him.

But before he could rant about his undying love for you, he sees a painful expression on your face. Followed by you, placing your arms around your belly and bending as if the cause of your physical pain was located in your stomach.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“Just,” you take a moment to breathe as you slowly make your way towards a tree. “Just leave me alone.”

With sad and curious optics, he sees you put a hand on your stomach. Whispering comforting words. ‘It’s alright’ and ‘It’s ok’ you kept talking to yourself to make you believe those words.

“We’ll be safe.”

“I am going to run a quick analysis–”

“No,” you interrupt him again. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

Optimus dislikes going against your wishes. But the way you are breathing heavily, your sweating and trembling doesn’t look like a good sign. He can manage to live without you if it guarantees that you can live a long happy life. But not the same can be said if your life is cut short for whatever reason.

“My apologies but my mission is to keep you safe and that’s exactly what I tend to do.”

“I am pregnant,” you had no other choice. “Thankfully, you are not the father.”

That was a lie but at least the shock will prevent and confuse him enough. If Optimus were to do an analysis on your body, he would find anomalies only a Cybertronian would know.

Finally getting the strength you need, you stand up and walk past Optimus whose face you did not dare to look. Your swollen belly still hurts but you didn’t want to worry him. The reason why you are not with him in the first place is because he thought of you as a liability. You no longer want to be seen as such.

“Who’s the father of the child?”

The question infuriated you. Of all the things he could have asked, he asks such a selfish question. He shouldn’t care and certainly you are tired of Optimus pretending he does.

“You know, on Earth, is customary to say ‘congratulations,” you turn to look at him.

A fatal mistake.

His optics reflected a grief unknown to you. The type you do not know nor wish to ever experience. Then there is a pain you recognize, that of a broken heart. You knew that feeling very well. He had been the one responsible for it after all. A part of you is happy to know that he is experiencing karma, that he is hopefully experiencing a fraction of the pain he made you go through.

But that wasn’t you. You didn’t want to inflect any type of suffering in him. Not now. Not ever.

“I am sorry.”

There wasn’t anything else you could say. You look down, disappointed at your own feelings.

“No. My apologies,” Optimus noticed your sudden change and he too feels unworthy to be of your presence. Having his ill feelings and jealousy overtake his processor instead of worrying about your well being. “I did not think it was possible for you to find a suitable partner with whom … to mate with … and so soon.”

“Well, humans do not live for long and we only have a few years until we are no longer able to ‘mate’”

You didn’t like using the word ‘mate’ . It made humans sound like animals but you used it so Optimus could be spoken to in terms he could understand.

“But do you have … feelings for this individual?”

“Yes,” you lied again, trying to see what you can get away with. “He is just and kind. Tall and handsome.”

Optimus puts a servo on his hip and looks to the other side. Not looking at anything in particular rather he didn’t want to show his evident discomfort.

“Yet it seems he is unable to do the most important duty … to protect you.”

“He is quite adequate, actually,” you tease him again. The Autobot leader might be a smart war tactician but is terrible at understanding hints. “He is the strongest and fierce when needed.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that I have as well found someone else to keep my time occupied,” he stutters, unable to lie. “She’s strong, a good talker and a listener. Kind and has the most beautiful eyes in the entire universe.”

Now he was being too specific for your liking. What if he was telling the truth and he had indeed found someone else? You didn't know how not. After all, Optimus Prime was the most extraordinary being on Earth and probably in the entire universe.

All of your doubts and insecurities began to fill your heart. You were just a human, easily replaceable. But Optimus? There’s only one of him. You were insignificant compared to him. It has always been this way.

“Then I hope she is better than I ever was.”

You turn to keep walking into the woods with no destination whatsoever but you didn’t care.

“It seems we made the right choice to part ways.”

Optimus wouldn’t have it. He can’t phantom it and it’s probably selfish thinking. But he can’t understand how easily you can say that while there hasn’t been a single day he is not tormented by your absence. When every second of his life has been torture without you.

“Is that really how you feel?” His voice is indignant. Every circuit in his processor, begged him to hold you. To tell you how much he craves you and how unfair has life been. Taking you away only when you have become the most beautiful of beings. “After everything?”

“You have someone and I have someone,” you don’t turn around, putting a hand again on your stomach. Giving it a small rub and looking down at it. “And I am with a child as you can see and very happy.”

“A child that should have been born from our bond. I should have been the father of that sparkling, I-”

“You wished we had never met,” you whisper quietly but you know he can hear you. He always listened. “So please, stop talking like you care.”

“(Y/N)?”

He looks at you and notices your distraught. Your breathing has become slower.

“Are you alright?”

You fall but before your body could touch the ground, Optimus catches you on his servo. He studies you for a second. You have pink cheeks and breathing seems difficult. He doesn’t hesitate to use his comm-link.

“Ratchet, I request an immediate groundbridge.”

“Vitals are stable but I’ll stay alert tonight to watch over her.”

Ratchet was glad to have you back at the base although he wished it was in different circumstances. After a couple of hours, everyone went back to their private quarters. The only ones left were the medic and the leader of the autobots.

They watched over you as you slept soundly in the medical berth. Your vital signs displayed on the data-screen. Although everything seems fine, the two of them were known to overthink and worry.

“I waited for everyone to leave to tell you something of an extremely important matter.”

“What is it, old friend?”

“While doing some analyses in (Y/N)’s body, I distinguished an anomaly,” Ratchet clicks on keys and rapidly two sound frames appear. There are many lines, short and big, all close together. Together they create a different pattern from each other.

“(Y/N) appears to have two different heart beats. But, of course, that goes against human biology. So I did further testing.”

“I made a discovery. The second beat has a different frequency of that of a human heart,” the medic played the sound, Optimus recognized this as your heartbeat. “But this other one has the same frequency and energy as a spark.”

“I do not understand.”

Trying to be tactful was hard for Ratchet as it is. He didn’t want to downplay the situation either. It was a serious matter but he has to admit that not even himself can’t contain his exhilaration.

“Cybertron hasn’t had a single sparkling in centuries so coming to this conclusion took some time”

The medic ex-vents, somehow it helped with his tension. He has been alive for quite some time and yet he can’t remember the last time he helped bring a new life to Cybertron. It was all the culmination of his studies and practices. Maybe finally he will have a chance to create life instead of just curing it.

“After all, I had to look through some old archives and Human-Cybertronian hybrids is a first. But seeing that humans have the ability to create life and combining that with Cybertronian transmission genes … I believe I have a definite conclusion.”

Ratchet presses a key, making the data-screen play a distinct sound. A sound similar to static but a distinct rhythm could be heard. Gentle and soft. Pure.

“(Y/N) is carrying a sparkling.”

“By the AllSpark,” Optimus blinks multiple times as he always does when he is excited or perplexed about something. He looks at you. Your small fragile body. “How?”

“How are humans able to create life with a soul, conscious mind and a body?” Ratchet doesn’t know how to explain it, because even he can't fully understand how. “Primus may have heard our prayers and has blessed us with an opportunity to welcome a new life to our race.”

“Agent Fowler must have known this and MECH as well. That’s why they were so precautious when transporting her from one place to the other.”

Optimus made a mental note to ask Fowler about this and his reasoning as to why he wasn’t informed of such an important matter.

“If MECH lay hands on (Y/N) they would experiment on her and the sparkling as soon as it’s born,” Ratchet says as he walks towards you with a tender expression in his faceplace. “Half Human, half Cybertronian. This child will change everything.”

“Conceived from a son of Primus and a daughter of Unicron.”

The situation was out of legends and myths. The kind of thing that sounds impossible but maybe this little hope inside of you is what is needed to light up their darkest hour.

“And this may also explain your sudden urge to nest,” the medic’s voice is more light-hearted now. Having flashbacks of Optimus picking up random flowers, pretty rocks and good-looking metal to bring back to the base. When questioned about it, the leader of the Autobots simply responded that he had an urge to do so.

“I thought you were going crazy when you started to bring earthly materials to the base.”

“I thought so too.”

Optimus sees you sleep. He has the need to touch your swollen belly, to feel the growing spark within you. You have always been amazing, he knew that much. But he never thought you were capable of conceiving life like their own. What a beautiful sight. One he never thought possible. Now, it’s right in front of him. Hope. The complete personification of it, staring right at him.

“Will she be alright?”

“She’s stable but she definitely needs to be watched over. Her weakened state is due to the fact that the sparkling is taking too much of her energy,” Ratchet also has his optics on you. The happiest Optimus has ever seen. Knowing that there is hope for their race to continue to grow must be the first real sign of hope Ratchet has had since eons ago.

“Energon is mostly toxic to humans but the sparkling has created anti-mechs for (y/n)’s immune system to withstand it. We are going to have to start supplying her with energon if we wish for the sparkling to be born healthy.”

“And most importantly,” he takes a moment to look at his old friend. His optics now showed a more hostile gaze. “A sparkling needs the electromagnetic waves of a caregiver to copy growing behaviors.”

“She needs you, Optimus.”

It was the middle of the night when you woke up. You feel thirsty but need more than water. Your body has had strange cravings lately but you were not about to randomly drink energon just because the baby wanted to.

You knew this place too well. The smell of metal and bots was everywhere. The soft vans of the air conditioner are comforting. The orange light coming from Ratchet’s data screen illuminated the room enough for you not to be scared. Although you didn’t want to admit it, you missed this place. Even when you much preferred to be sleeping in the coach instead of the medical berth.

“Do you need something?”

Optimus came back from behind you. You shake your body and back away a few centimeters.

“My apologies, I did not want to scare you.”

He had mass-displaced. Still over 10 feet and really tall compared to any regular human. He tries to be delicate even when you know he is not fond of this form. Optimus had told you before that it was a bit uncomfortable for him. Of course, he never seemed to complain whenever he mass shifted to lay on your bed.

You look down and caress your stomach. It would be stupid to believe that Ratchet did not find out about your little secret and told Optimus about it.

“It’s alright.”

Awkwardly, he sits next to you. You thought he might be furious with you. For lying to him in the first place. But now you feel ashamed for a reason you can’t understand. The mere fact of deceiving Optimus Prime is an unpleasant experience.

“(Y/N) …”

“I am sorry I didn’t tell you,” you don’t look at him. Instead, you look down at your feet and how they hang from the medical berth. “Don’t get angry at Fowler, please. I was the one who told him not to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you want to share such important information?”

“Because you said … You wished you had never met me,” you feel a knot forming on your throat. It hurts to speak, to even form thoughts and remember what happened seven months ago. His voice is still very present in your memories. The pain is still in your heart. “So I thought, you wouldn’t want our child either.”

Clenching his servo into a fist, Optimus fights the urge to hold you. You were so close, yet the only thing he can indulge himself with is your scent. It's different now. It was your smell combined with a new aroma. That of his sparkling.

“I have made many hard decisions in my life,” it was difficult for him to look at you. Now, he feels indignant to stand before you. You were to him what the gods were to their subjects. Devotion is not enough for him to satisfy his service to you.

“But the hardest decision was to let you go and I did it because I was scared. Even now, I doubt myself. Maybe you’ll be safer somewhere else. Away from me, away from all of this,”

Reminiscing about the past is painful to him. Most memories of you are lovely, unforgettable. But that time seven months ago when the Decepticons had captured you. The screams, the terror in your face, Megatron ordering you to tell him how scared you were. How he couldn’t do anything. Helpless. Pathetic.

And for a small second. For a fraction he really believed he had lost you. That was enough for him to know he won’t function without you.

“If something were to happen to you … I won’t be able to … I can’t-”

He feels his entire core shake. His servos trembling as they remember holding your almost lifeless body.

“I am sorry,” his voice glitches. “I said unforgivable things with hopes that they would push you away. To protect you. I can live with you hating me but I cannot envision the day the universe takes your soul from me.”

May Primus have mercy on his spark. May he forgive him but Optimus would throw everything away just to hold you. Just for his words to reach your heart. To feel your touch once again.

“But I was a fool to believe I could stay away from you. To think that my restraint was as strong as my morals.”

There is silence and although he doesn’t dare to look at you, he can feel your presence. For now it was enough to have you next to him.

“You may not believe in my words but believe this; the only good thing this fool has ever done is love you. It's the only thing … the only decision I have no doubts about.”

Suddenly, softness meets his faceplate. Immediately, his optics were on the blink of releasing energon. With a simple touch, you had healed him. A part of his spark that felt empty was full again. The meaning to his life was restored.

“Do you even know how much I missed you?”

You ask him with a gentle voice. Caressing every sense of his audials, engraving them in his processor. To forever remain in the deepest part of his mind.

He can’t even begin to tell you what he truly feels. He had given up. Come to realize that no words, no language in the present, past nor future could ever be vast enough to express the love he has for you.

Optimus could try with his actions. That may not be enough either. But he will have all of eternity to make for it.

“Everyday after you left, I would go to the rooftop on the base and I would count each star in the sky,” he puts a servo on top of your hand and his dermas brush against your skin, a small kiss. “To try and relieve the nights I would count the stars in your eyes.”

You didn’t say anything. Whenever it came to talking, Optimus was always more proficient. You never felt the need to say something either, he always knew what you meant. What you were feeling. Words were not necessary. Not when he can read your eyes so easily.

“And not even the timeless company of the entire universe could compare to one second with you.”

That night, you rested in his chassis. Missing your warmth, he embraced you. Your stomach pressed lightly against him. This experience was something new to him and he was terrified of it. Afraid he won’t be good enough to be a partner or a father. But as long as you were with him, the impossible became possible. So maybe becoming someone worthy of a sparkling could also be feasible.

Optimus will try his very best. For you, for the sparkling. For himself. Failing it's not an option and being a father was a greater honor than being a Prime. A title he would give up if only you would ask him. Of course, you will never ask him such a thing. He knew you better than that.

Optimus believes in Primus, fully. But he is thankful to whatever gods created you. If he could and knew how, he would pray and thank them.

He now has another chance. Another opportunity. To give you what he has been collecting.

Maybe tomorrow he will give you all the dandelions he found for you.

A/N: Sorry for the late Christmas post. Merry Christmas and Happy New Years I hope y’all enjoyed this. As always, for any questions, comments, concerns or prompt ideas you can send me an inbox. For all the love and support … Thank you! See you next year!

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kyanitedragon · 2 days ago

Text

I shared a bunch of my thoughts after watching TOS Season 1 for the first time...

But I've been so impressed with Spock in particular, and now I entirely understand why everyone adores him.

Vulcans are such a complicated alien characterization, and it's really easy to misunderstand them or write them wrong. Since these were the first star trek episodes, I was a little worried that season 1 Spock might be far more "human" than later star trek vulcans, or simply than later TOS seasons when it got its footing.

But no, Gene Roddenberry knew what he was doing from the start.

I've always liked vulcans (I started on Voyager first and Tuvok was one of my early faves) but I never appreciated them more than now.

The way Spock is written is absolutely vulcan writing at it's best.

I've been getting tired of the modern trend since Enterprise of vulcans being emotionless assholes wanting to hold back humanity. I've been getting tired of the series not really challenging the humans' views and misconceptions. I've especially disliked Strange New Worlds' obsession with making Spock more "human".

Vulcans have emotions — their emotions are simply repressed and controlled. Vulcans can lie! Vulcans can joke! Vulcans can be amused! They just... do it all in a very vulcan way.

And Spock... TOS Spock does all of that.

He is so damn sassy and I adore it so much. He finds so much amusement in his human crewmembers, he loves to screw with people, he loves to insult Kirk and Bones and they love to insult him back. And no matter what, he always feels so distinctly vulcan.

My personal favorite is from Tomorrow is Yesterday (1x19), when they have an air force captain from the 1960's on the bridge and they're explaining to him the future. The man walks onto the bridge, saying that he "doesn't believe in little green aliens". And Spock, knowing that he is visibly alien, walks forward to show himself and says "Neither have I". He absolutely knew that he would confuse and freak out and overwhelm the 60's captain. He just wanted to have some fun and screw with this stranger.

But that's not all.

Vulcans are telepathic. They can mind mind. We see a mind meld in episode 9. I was shocked that we got one so early.

Vulcans can do the nerve pinch. Spock can easily knock out anyone with a simple shoulder grab, while Kirk has to punch people and hurt his hand.

Vulcans have super strength, too. Each time Kirk and Spock fight, we can clearly see the amount of difference in strength.

By all means, vulcans are OP. By all means, it should be insanely difficult to have such an OP main character surrounded by entirely normal humans.

And yet... it never feels that way. Nor does it feel like they ever need to nerf him.

Spock uses all these powers. He uses them often. He volunteers them, he suggests them, sometimes Kirk asks him to do something difficult or even painful and Spock always agrees with no hesitation.

And this never feels overpowered.

And when Spock doesn't use his powers? It's always because his powers are entirely irrelevant and couldn't be used - no nerfs needed.

This series does so well with Spock!!

#star trek #vulcans #star trek the original series #spock #tos #mine

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insomniadreamzz · 2 days ago

Note

Can I please make a request for Jinx x fem reader.

I was thinking reader has really really dry skin, and forgets to use moisturizer. Maybe one day Jinx sees readers cracking bleeding hands and freaks out! Could it please end with soft Jinx rubbing in moisturizer to readers hands.

Thank you!

I care for you

Jinx x Fem!Reader

The cold weather made your skin feel all itchy since you had naturally a very dry skin, making you have a hard time during winter. Usually you knew about this issue but these days you were way too busy to care for yourself.

You were busy going on missions, helping Jinx out whenever she needed something but you didn’t get a lot of time to talk to her since she was busy herself. You missed having time only for you two without being stressed.

The blue haired girl entered her hideout after a long, stressful day. Her pink eyes scanning the area, searching for you. When her eyes looked at the floor, she saw little drops of blood on it, causing her to freak out immediately.

What if something happened to you? What if you are hurt? It’s her fault she left you alone. All of those thoughts made her nearly panic but she tried her best to not lose herself completely. You needed to be somewhere in here and you might needed her help.

Jinx shouted your name, trying to get your attention and she got greeted by you looking like you just napped, which you did. „Why are you yelling??…“ You asked her as you rub your eyes, her being too focused on being happy to see you are fine so she didn’t notice your hands, rushing over to you and hugged you so tightly you nearly fell down. „I am so glad! I-I saw blood, I thought you are injured…I thought something bad happened to you. I am never gonna leave you alone again!“ She cried in your arms, even though she had no reason to feel worried you got badly injured, you knew she thought you were nearly dead but then she pulled back to take a better look at you, her eyes scanning your body for possible injuries.

„Jinx…I am fine please. I just napped.“ You said with a little soft groan. She only stopped once she took your hands in hers, you were surprised yourself, you didn’t realise the skin on your hands were cracking and bleeding. „Y-You are bleeding! Why are you lying to me?!“ She began to panic again, her hands gently holding yours as she took a better look at them, then she looked up into your eyes again. You couldn’t tell if she was sad or just really mad at this point. Probably both.

„You shouldn’t lie to me! I thought you love me…why did you lie to me? You’re just like everyone else aren’t you??“ Her voice cracked and her body was shaking. You still were a little overwhelmed by her reaction, sometimes you just forgot how mentally unstable your girlfriend was and that every tiny thing could make her explode into a anxious mess.

„But-…Jinx I was sleeping. I am confused as well.“ You really didn’t notice your skin was already cracking on your hands, you just kept doing your work and maybe you also overworked yourself and just fell asleep without noticing anything on your hands.

She looks at you and within seconds she slapped across your face, leaving a red mark on your cheek. „Liar!“ She was still stuck in her own mind, the voices in her head getting louder as she fell on her knees and holding her head, driving totally away as she grumbled, talking to the voices in her head. You kneeled down in front of her, Jinx shifting away from you. „Hey…why would I lie to my love? You know I would never. I promised you.“ You said with a soft voice, trying to calm her down. Your heart broke seeing her cry and struggle about something you didn’t even notice. She was breathing heavily as she looked at you but you knew she was still stuck, struggling with herself.

„You know I do have naturally a very dry skin don’t you? I told you once. This cold weather makes it worse and…I didn’t put moisturiser on my hands like I should and that causes them to crack and it can get so bad that they start bleeding on some places. No one hurt me. I am fine.“ You tried to explain to her as you looked straight into her eyes. Your words sounding serious and she slowly started to come back to you to reality, her breathing getting slower and steadier.

„I love you. I would never betray you.“ You said before taking the chance to place a kiss on her lips, the voices in her head fading as she felt your lips on hers and she finally relaxed. Jinx went back to reality and she kissed you back.

„Why…why didn’t you take care of yourself?“ She mumbled before getting up. „Stay where you are.“ She said and in a few seconds she got back to you with moisturiser you usually used and gently rubbed it on your hands. Her touch was so gentle like being scared to crush your hands, it was so cute you couldn’t help but smile at her, watching her being very focused on helping you.

„If you don’t take care of yourself…I will take care of you.“ And she meant it. From now on she won’t miss a day to remind you of using your moisturiser on your hands so you won’t get hurt again.

She will always take care of you just like you take care of her.

#x reader #fanfiction #female reader #x fem!reader #short imagine #lgbtq #arcane #arcane fanfic #jinx #jinx x fem!reader #jinx x y/n #jinx x reader #jinx arcane

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madschiavelique · 3 days ago

Note

Hello, I don't have any idea for younger inexperienced halsin, but I have something that might interest you.

Imagine this, experienced Halsin x Inexperienced tav. But tav is so innocent, wants to do so well, but halsin has to control himself. Thus, halsin is the one being unknowingly (for tav) teased and flustered as he has to control himself, and not to frighten tav.

That's it. Flustered halsin.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ pairing : halsin x inexperienced!reader

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ content warning : explicit, smut, more of a ramble than a specific scenario, feels more like headcanons even, fem!reader, no use of y/n

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ words : 585

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ author's note : omg anon yES!!! sorry it took me so long but arcane is back on my mind and i just had to get down to writing for viktor bbg

( not proofread, english is not my first language ☆)

Halsin had had many adventures over the centuries. He had experimented with a variety of ages, no doubt travelled the length and breadth of positions that could be taken, and tasted the pleasures of many different races.

And yet, despite all that, it was as if you had shaken every one of his foundations.

You never ceased to surprise him, you were so clinging to this idea of wanting to do the right thing that you were nervous at the drop of a hat. Halsin had reassured you extensively that he would never, ever do anything you didn't want him to do.

But you were curious, and he was pretty sure on Silvanus himself that your cuteness would be his undoing.

You were shy in the kisses you offered him without his having initiated them, watching him with gentle eyes as your gaze drifted to his lips and he had to do everything in his power not to tear every layer of clothing covering you.

There was an innocence and hesitation in the way you took his hand, touched him, said his name that drove him crazy.

The other night, when you were all gathered around the campfire, chatting about everything and nothing as usual at the end of the day, you were sitting on his lap. You laughed and listened to Gale's story that Astarion kept interjecting. You whispered in Halsin's ear a remark about the story that you didn't dare say out loud, and the simple sensation of your breath and your voice so low and close to his ear was enough to make him almost lose his composure.

And when you slept together when the nights were too cold and you embraced him during your pre-sleep chats, your fingers tracing affectionate caresses down his back, Halsin wondered if you were aware of the effects that your touch on that specific area was likely to cause. Then, when you finally fell asleep and he wrapped his arms around you like the big spoon that he was, you couldn't help moving your hips closer to his to get some of his warmth.

You had no idea of the effect you were having on him with your every move.

The first time you finally got down to business, you kept asking him questions, inevitably asking again and again: "Does that feel good?"

And Halsin had to restrain himself every time, answering as calmly as possible, "I don't think there is any way for me not to feel good with you right now, my heart."

But he remained patient, knowing that the more time passed, the more comfortable you would become, and therefore the more adventurous.

When you asked Halsin to teach you how to jerk him off and give him a blow job, he nearly turned into a bear. You asked lots of questions, testing the waters, touching him a little hesitantly, asking "Does that feel good? Can I touch you there?" so gently that he almost came right then and there.

He tried to contain himself, to stop himself from rutting without waiting as soon as he was inside you, your gummy walls so tight around his girth. He tried to contain himself when he saw you marked by his lips and teeth. He tried to contain himself when you said his name over and over in a voice laced with moans.

Holding on was almost impossible, but he was patient, he knew you would venture further. By Silvanus, was he eager for it.

#mads' requests ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 headcanons #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 x reader #halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x you #halsin x tav #halsin bg3 #bg3 halsin #halsin imagine #bg3 smut

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butchreg · 16 hours ago

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mama ! sevika with a weepy , clingy ! regressor headcanons !!

requested by 🪶 anon ! the people long for more cg ! sevika .. i am here to ( try to ) provide. silly random pictures this time sorry they don't really match. big old dog is sevika and little cat is you if you even care... sorry these aren't my best i don't have a ton of thoughts this time <//3 arcane masterlist here , upcoming list here

sevika who was never big on physical touch , struggling at first to get used to you being clingy. it's not unpleasant for her but it's certainly something to get used to , she's a bit surprised that you'd choose her of all people to latch onto in this way.

she's also never been great at dealing with big emotions. at first her eyes will widen when your face begins to scrunch up , clearly seconds from crying. she might begin to panic though she tries to hide it. "hey , hey. what's wrong , kid ?" she works hard on her tone so she doesn't sound too gruff or out of her element. she'll put her hand on your shoulder a bit awkwardly , trying to comfort you physically.

she's not great at comforting people but she's a great listener and very perceptive. if she notices you acting differently she'll gently pull you aside. "what's the matter , kid ?" she'll ask straightforwardly in a soft tone. she hunches down to look you in the eye , resting a hand on your shoulder. if you don't answer she doesn't push but she needs you to know she cares. "well , i'm here if ya need me, hm ?" she'll say raising an eyebrow at you.

okay i doubt this book exists in zaun but i do not care... sevika doing kissing hands with you , her clingy little cub whenever she has to go off to work or on a more dangerous outing. you'll start to cry and she'll gently shush you , placing soft kisses on both sides of your hands. "now you do mine ," she instructs in her gravelly voice. you wipe your teary eyes. "what for ?" she's embarrassed as she explains it to you , you make her so soft it makes her sick. you giggle , eagerly kissing her hands before pressing yours to your cheeks.

when you get weepy , she'll pick you up , plopping you on her lap , bouncing you a bit. this immediately calms you down , sometimes all you need is your mama's touch.

mama bear sevika who is always holding your hand out in public. she tells everyone it's just because you want it , but it's just as much for her own comfort. she doesn't like her cub getting too far , especially when you tend to fuss easily. the idea of you getting lost terrifies her probably even more than it does you.

sometimes as a treat sevika will give you piggy back rides or shoulder rides. "you're killin' me kid," she'll joke when you ask her forty minutes later for just one more spin around the house. still she carries you around one more time , collapsing onto the couch with a dramatic sigh when she's had enough.

sevika setting up a card game for you and your stuffed animals when she has to leave you. "watch out for the bulldog , he's a cheater." she'll warn you playfully. "mamaaa , i don' want you to gooo ," you'll whine tearfully. "aww , buck up kiddo. i'll be back before round two," she'll say with a wink.

if you're having a bad day and are more weepy than usual sevika will cheer you up by attempting to draw for you. key word : attempting. she's not an artist by any stretch and you always laugh when she tries to draw your special stuffie , or jinx. she'll snort , trying not to laugh herself. "aw, c'mon , kid. you're just jealous you can't draw like i can."

mama sevika who loves to cuddle up with you in her lap and read to you. she does lots of silly voices and will quiz you on plot points. "one more chapter , pleeeease !!" she'll pout at you , booping your nose. "no time tonight , cub. you gotta get to sleep." you'll whine and fuss , but eventually she wins , arguing that if you're too sleepy tomorrow you'll be too grumpy to read. she'll tuck you and your stuffies in bed giving all of you forehead kisses before flicking off the light and turning in for the night as well.

#U^ｪ^U #arcane #arcane agere #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #fandom agere #fictional cg #fictional caregiver #agere blog #agere writing #agere headcanons #sfw agere #sfw interaction only #agere #age regression #agere community #arcane x reader #q

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uconnwbbcrashout · 20 hours ago

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last winter break

chapter i: “this is the love that we won’t get right”

paige x azzi

word count: 3.1k

content: mentions of underage drinking (of which i do not condone), swearing, even more angst

chapter list: here

author’s notes: back with some more angst (as requested)! a couple things: for the sake of this fic, they get longer than just a few days off for winter break before they have to start playing again. also, reminder again that azzi’s high school is in minnesota (like 15 minutes away from paige’s).

oh, and things will get worse before they get better :) enjoy!

Winter 2020-2021

Azzi is no stranger to pain.

It’s more or less the price you pay when you decide to dedicate your life to basketball—physical injuries are basically a given. Granted, you never know what the extent of those injuries might be, but it’s essentially a guarantee that there will be something.

And Azzi has dealt with her fair share of physical injuries over the years—bloody cuts, bruised legs, shin splints, pulled muscles, sprained ankles. They’re annoying, for sure, but Azzi has mostly learned to deal with them, doesn’t see them as excuses for having an off game. She’s learned to fight through them.

Then, of course, there was her ACL and MCL tear last year.

That had been a different beast entirely. One that she was wholly unprepared for.

A sharp, stinging sensation radiating through her knee, unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.

Perhaps the hardest part of it all, though, was the mental toll it took on her.

Azzi’s learned that basketball is as much of a mind game as it is a physical sport. It takes resilience, an steady mental fortitude to endure all the challenges it throws at you—blocked shots, missed game-winning buckets, losses in a championship game. Azzi was used to that, had been building up her mental toughness since the first time someone stole the ball from her at recess in first grade.

Going through a major injury like that, though, left her in a prolonged state of turmoil. It took away basketball, one of the greatest constants in her life, and turned it into an impossibility. It kept her glued to a seat, to the bench, helpless to be at her teammates’ sides when they needed her most. It fabricated nightmares late at night, making her wonder if she’d ever get to play the game she loved again.

It was almost too much to bear.

So, yeah, Azzi’s been through it all—all sorts of physical injuries and all sorts of emotional anguish. Anything you can think of, really.

At least, that’s what she had thought.

The way Paige had shattered her heart, though? Had left her alone to try to stitch the pieces back together?

Well, that was certainly up there among the worst of it.

It’s the heaviest ache, the deepest sorrow permeating throughout her entire being. The type of feeling that leaves a person completely hollow, numb to the world around them.

It’s not something you move on from.

Not for a long time.

If ever.

And how could she, really, when Paige was everywhere around her?

Over a thousand miles away yet still fucking finding a way to sneak into everything she could see, everything she could hear, everything she could feel.

Paige was in the creaking park swings across the street. She was in the lingering scent of cologne on Azzi’s pillows. She was in the warmth of a late August sunset. She was in the drip of a melting ice cream cone at the state fair. She was in the rustle of the leaves in the fall. She was in the bounce of a basketball on hardwood. In the soft fabric of a well-worn tournament hoodie. In the unwrapped birthday presents shoved into her closet. In the laughter ringing out across the neighborhood. In the music thumping in her car. In the first snowfall cascading down from above. In the sparkle of lights on a Christmas tree. In the burning of her lungs against the frozen winter. In the empty space beside her, in the ground she walked, in the air she breathed.

In everything.

Azzi has tried to forget her. Honestly, she has.

But Paige hasn’t made it easy on her. Always so damn talkative and blowing up her phone with message after message, even though she was the one who ended things between them. Never seeming to understand that every text, every word reopens the stitches holding her wounded heart together.

Even basketball is hardly an escape, not something she can throw herself into now. Game after game being postponed or cancelled. Practices with her teammates few and far between, cloth masks and distance between them. And the ever-present reminder of Paige that comes with anything even remotely basketball-related.

Needless to say, these last few months have been literal hell.

In hindsight, she should’ve known that this was only just the beginning.

*****

Azzi steps back from the bathroom counter, screwing the cap to her mascara back on and giving herself a once-over in the mirror. It’s just a New Year’s Eve party, so her outfit isn’t anything too crazy—her St. John’s varsity letterman jacket, a pair of tighter-fitting jeans, and some new Air Force 1s that she got from her parents for Christmas. Hoop earrings and a simple chain around her neck. She pulls at the twin curls framing either side of her face before tightening the hair tie holding up the rest of her hair.

It'll have to do, she relents, slipping out of the bathroom and grabbing her lanyard before making a beeline for the front door. Her hand is on the doorknob, just about to rush out—

“Azzi Fudd, where is your winter coat?”

Azzi drops her forehead against the doorframe, sighing dramatically.

So close.

“Mom, it’s, like, a five-minute walk. I’ll be fine.”

She catches her mother throwing her arms up in exasperation in her periphery. “It’s 15 degrees outside, Azzi. Just put on a coat.”

“No, I said it’s fine,” she protests. “I don’t need—”

But her mom is already in front of her, pushing her puffer coat into her hands.

Azzi opens her mouth to respond, but she sees the challenging look in her mom’s eye and decides not to test her tonight. She quickly shrugs the coat on and rolls her eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Can I go now?”

Her mom smiles and steps backwards into the living room, lifting her hands in the air. “You’re free to go.”

Azzi nods and reaches for the doorknob a second time.

“Oh, actually, I forgot to tell you something,” her mom says from the couch.

“Oh my god,” Azzi mumbles, pivoting to face her mom again. There’s a suspicious glint in her eye that’s making Azzi feel uneasy. “What is it? I’m already supposed to be at Taylor’s house by now.”

Her mom smiles and takes a sip from her coffee mug. “Okay, one, it’s not my fault you’re late. And, two, I just wanted to let you know that I saw her the other day.” At Azzi’s blank expression, she continues, “Paige, I mean.”

Fuck.

Azzi hates the way her heart rate quickens, the way her mouth feels dry, the way her throat tightens. She tries to mask her initial shock with disinterest, pretending to pick at something on her fingernail. “Oh, really? That’s cool.”

The grin on her mother’s face tells her that she’s failing miserably.

“Yeah, we were both in line at the grocery store. She asked me about you.”

Azzi’s eyes widen and she pulls at the collar of her coat, suddenly feeling like she’s suffocating underneath all these layers of clothing. “Yeah?” she asks quietly. “What’d she say?”

Her mom gestures with the coffee mug in her hands, a wide smile still adorning her face. “Oh, you know. Just wondering how you are and where you��ve been.” She shrugs. “Said she missed you and was hoping that maybe she could see you over break.”

None of this is news to Azzi—she’s heard this all before in the endless string of texts she’s gotten from Paige since July.

Even still, her breath catches in her throat at her words.

She wants to see me.

God, but what does it matter, really? Paige made it very clear that this wasn’t going to work between them. And Azzi made it very clear that she couldn’t go back to just being friends with her.

That should be the end of it.

So why isn’t it?

Why do I still care that she thinks about me? Why do I care that she misses me?

Why can’t I just let it go?

“Azzi?”

Azzi blinks hard a few times and glances back up at her mom, flashing her a smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “Oh, yeah. That’s um—that’s great. Thanks for letting me know that.” She hooks her thumb over her shoulder towards the door. “I’m gonna go. For real now.”

“Be safe!” She hears her mom call before she slams the door shut behind her.

Azzi inhales raggedly, feels the sting of the cold night in her lungs, then releases her breath into a cloud in front of her.

I’m so fucked.

*****

It’s not the usual celebration this year. Normally, she’d be hanging out with her family, or perhaps Paige’s family, playing games and sharing smiles well into the night. Paige by her side, the warm press of her hand on her lower back, her laughter echoing off the walls of Azzi’s mind.

Obviously, nothing has gone to plan this year.

That’s why she finds herself here—in the basement of her friend Taylor’s house, sitting in a circle with the rest of her teammates. Half empty beer bottles are strewn across the floor and the midnight countdown sits abandoned on the TV.

With a warm buzz dulling her racing thoughts and the giggling of her teammates flowing through her ears, she thinks she likes this alternative, too.

It’s a welcome distraction from the chaos that her senior year has devolved into. Social distancing, cancelled basketball games, college decisions. Lost friends, new future teammates, empty spaces.

The breakup. The constant fight between anger and longing, between trying to move on and fantasizing about a life where everything just worked out.

She doesn’t have to think about any of it.

She’s hardly thought about Paige at all, actually. She hasn’t wondered what it would've been like to spend tonight with Paige instead. Hasn’t counted how many steps it would take her to get to Paige’s front door from here. Hasn’t even thought about the last time she counted down to midnight, the hungry look in Paige’s eyes, the way she pulled their bodies together and kissed her senseless, her breath caught in her throat and her hands wandering—

Okay, fine.

Maybe Paige crossed her mind once or twice.

Maybe she misses her. Just a little.

She’s still pissed at her for breaking her heart, though. And no amount of alcohol can make her completely forget that feeling.

*****

It’s well past midnight by the time Azzi finally makes her way home, probably at least 2 A.M. if she had to guess. Her parents are not going to be happy.

She’s sobered up a bit now, thoughts finally feeling a bit clearer in her head. The wind has picked up considerably, forcing Azzi to duck her head down into her coat and shove her hands into her pockets. She's suddenly glad that her mom had forced her to wear something warmer.

Just a few more blocks to go.

As Azzi approaches the corner ahead, her ears pick up on the sounds of distant chatter over the howling wind. Curious, she lifts her head up and settles her gaze upon the group ahead of her. A rambunctious bunch of people, probably around her own age.

She stops dead in her tracks.

Even with just the dim orange streetlight, Azzi doesn’t need to move closer to be sure—that lanky 5'11 frame is unmistakable.

Paige.

Azzi is frozen in time, completely entranced with the figure before her. She can barely see anything—can just make out blonde hair settled around broad shoulders and the strong line of a jaw—but it’s enough to capture all of her attention.

She isn’t sure how long she’s standing there, her mouth agape, before she realizes that the figure is moving towards her now, is calling out to her.

“Azzi? That you?”

Azzi snaps out of it then, the reality of the situation starting to unfold, and she’s spinning away and striding in the opposite direction before she can even think twice about it.

There are footsteps now, quickening, thumping louder in her ears.

“Azzi! Hey, slow down!”

The sound of snow crunching under sneakered feet.

“Yo, wait up!”

Azzi speeds up her pace.

“Azzi?”

The voice is clear now, merely a few feet behind her.

“Hey!”

Azzi steels herself for impact, tries to remind herself to keep her resolve.

A hand curls itself around her forearm and Azzi half expects to see a hole burned through her jacket when she looks down at it.

The hand is turning her now, spinning her to a stop right in front of icy blue eyes.

“Azzi,” Paige exhales, her breath rapidly coming out in puffs that disappear into the air. Her eyes are bright, her smile is wide, and Azzi’s heart aches. “Hey.”

She doesn’t look all that different from the last time Azzi saw her—it’s only been a few months, after all. Hair down, in a UConn sweatshirt, some sweatpants, and old basketball sneakers. That same stupid grin on her face, the one she reserves just for Azzi.

Against her will, Azzi’s body reacts instinctually, urging her to move closer into Paige’s space, and she has to use all of the strength she can muster to hold herself back.

“Hi,” Azzi whispers, biting her lip to stop herself from saying anything less than coherent.

“Hey,” Paige says again, her gaze still locked onto Azzi’s.

They stay like that, unmoving, for several long seconds.

Paige is still grasping onto her forearm, and Azzi clears her throat to get her attention.

Paige blinks and releases her hold on her arm, sheepishly glancing away. Maybe it’s just the cold, but Azzi swears she sees a pink tint spread its way across Paige’s face. “Sorry ‘bout that,” she mumbles. “It’s good to see you, Az.”

Azzi feels her resolve crack ever so slightly at the nickname, the ease at which it falls from Paige’s lips. She straightens her shoulders out and crosses her arms. “How you been, P?”

“Good. Real good.” Paige grins. “Love it at UConn. You watch any of our games?”

Azzi shrugs, aiming for indifference. Maybe she’s seen one or two.

Paige doesn’t need to know that.

Paige nods her head, shifting her balance from one foot to the other. She ducks her head a bit to catch Azzi’s eye. “You doin’ okay, too?”

“I’m fine,” she lies, rubbing her hands against her arms to try to keep herself warm.

Paige gives her a disbelieving look, her eyebrows furrowing in that familiar way. “You sure?”

“I’m fine, okay, P? I’m fine.” It comes out harsher than she means it to, and Paige brings her hands up in front of her.

“Okay, okay. I believe you.” She focuses her attention on the ground, cracking ice beneath the heel of her shoe.

A quiet moment. And then—

“I miss you.”

“Paige,” Azzi sighs.

“Listen, I know you decided on Maryland and all that, but you’d be so good at UConn, Az.”

“Paige, I don’t—”

“You were made to be there. You—you’re just perfect for the team, you know that? Just—"

“Paige—”

“—exactly what we need. I talked to Nika 'bout it. You could be that last piece, for real. And I’on wanna be the reason you turned it down—"

“Just stop! Okay?” Azzi brings up a hand in front of her, effectively silencing her. “I can’t fucking do this right now, Paige. I can’t.”

Paige takes a small step back, a canyon forming between them. Her voice is quiet when she says, “Just want what’s best for you, Azzi.”

A dam breaks open inside Azzi then, sending white-hot blood pumping through her veins.

“You think I can’t decide that for myself, P? First the breakup and now this. You think I don’t know what’s good for me?”

Paige’s eyes widen and she steps forward, waving her hands in front of her. “No, no. Didn’t mean it like that. I swear, I just—”

“Hey, P, you comin’?”

Azzi peers past Paige’s shoulder, squinting into the night to find the source of the voice—a smaller figure standing on the same corner Paige was just a few minutes ago.

“Hol’ up!” Paige yells back, but Azzi hardly hears her.

There’s something about the figure that looks so familiar, so much like something she’s seen before. Azzi’s wracking her brain, rewinding time, desperately searching for an answer as to who this could possibly be.

All she has to do is replay the last few minutes before it clicks.

It comes back to her in flashes then.

How could she have missed it? So caught up in a trance of Paige, Paige, Paige that she didn’t even recognize the scene that was in front of her—Paige, under the streetlight, standing tall. A woman, next to her, leaning into her space. Whispering in her ear. Laughing at one of her jokes. Grabbing onto her bicep. Trailing her fingers down her arm.

Azzi tastes bile rising in her throat. She nods her head toward the woman, eyes cold. “Who’s that?”

Paige looks between Azzi and the woman, her expression faltering. “Oh, she’s just someone I went to Hopkins with. I swear it’s not—I swear, it's nothin', Az.”

“It’s fine, Paige.”

“Nah, I’on even really know her that well. She’s the one comin’ onto me.”

Azzi scoffs. “You weren’t exactly pushing her away.”

“Azzi, look,” Paige pleads. “I know, I know, it looks bad. Like, so bad—"

“You know what?” Azzi cuts her off. “It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing here anymore. There’s no us, remember?” She backs up, putting some much-needed space between them.

“Azzi, please, come on. I promise there's nothin' there.”

But Azzi is already backing up, already knowing how this will end, already on her way out. “Do whatever you want, Paige. You’re free from me now.”

“Az—"

“Goodbye, P,” she calls over her shoulder, trudging back towards home.

Her mind is swirling now, distorting reality to the point that she can’t be sure of what she saw. Was Paige leaning in towards that woman, too? Was she laughing along with her? Was she brushing up against her side? Was she looking at her lips? Was she reaching out? Was she ghosting her fingers over her skin?

A thought occurs to her then: Paige is already moving on.

Or at least she’s thought about it.

And here I am, thinking she still cares about me.

She doesn’t let the tears fall, doesn’t let everything tumble out until she finally turns back onto her street.

And then it all floods in.

God, how could I be so stupid?

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #paige x azzi #pazzi #pazzi fics #lwb fic #this hurt a bit to write i cannot lie #my inbox is open :)

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val-cansalute · 24 hours ago

Text

𝙱𝙴𝚈𝙾𝙽𝙳 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝟶𝟺

summary: you haven’t spent the night with ellie since she left, and you didn’t think you would ever do so again. but now you’re here. and there’s this random ass dog here too ig.

a/n: LOLLLLL I DID IT!!!!! this is 75% yap but I swear it gets cute at the end plz just read plz istg

tag list: @diddiqueen, @amberputh, @fatbootymuncher, @sapphointhe21stcenturyposts, @jadelovesyou00, @ravyaryn

series masterlist

You turn your phone off, eyes fixed on that same blurry fleck on the ceiling as darkness floods back into the room.

03:17

Unfortunately, those are rookie numbers to you, especially since that little get-together: the night you ended ‘things’ with Alexis over the phone, which somehow went surprisingly smoothly, on your part at least.

Well, you hung up before gauging how she took it. The only implications were the incessant buzzes of your phone against the smooth wooden surface of your nightstand, now cluttered with junk accumulated during the past few days. Over the course of them, the buzzes slowed before dying out completely. Then came the silence, in which you were left to rot in your thoughts.

That day, you came home and embraced the emptiness of your bed after going so long with a stranger lying beside you, and you immediately began abusing the absolute tragedy of it all, using the breakup as an excuse to laze around constantly, take a day or two off work. The reality, quite clearly, try as you might to conceal it (which isn’t much), is that you’re not really at the appropriate level of impacted by the whole ordeal, whatever that would be.

Perhaps the worst part of it all - what you truly feel the most guilty for - is that your thoughts keep taking a turn towards Ellie. It’s like the area of your mind dedicated to her suddenly flourished with greenery and colour following her return like rain crashing down against the dry sands of a desert, and it has only amplified since that night. A constant reminder that the markings she left on the enclosure of your skull will never fade.

Maybe you should be annoyed - mad, even - about the way she acted. But none of the emotions clustered inside you come even remotely close to that. Too far in an unprecedented direction.

But it’s not unprecedented. Not really. You’re acutely self-aware; you’ve always found it difficult to lie to yourself.

You think about her a lot, most of all about how she’s doing all alone in that house. You hope for a lot of things for her too. A lot. Things you shouldn’t hope for people you were supposed to have left in your past.

Ellie felt like dookie, which wasn’t unusual, quite the opposite. However, the reasoning was new. She felt like shit for that ugly thing that came over her, jealousy. She felt like shit because it was wrong to be jealous over the woman she once belonged to, the woman who also belonged to her, who doesn’t look in her eyes the way she used to, who laughs with someone else, holds someone else, loves someone else the way she used to love Ellie. Well, Ellie knows you love her because she knows you, but not the way you used to. There is a sadness there, a sort of pity, which irks her. It made her scared that you’d never see her the same way again.

And she wasn’t sure she’d be able to let the walls between you crumble even now, after everything. Still so on guard.

She wanted to do whatever it took to be part of your life: be respectful, give you space, be a friend, and she fricked up because you were supposed to be hers, and you would be, if she hadn’t lost her mind all that time ago.

She tried to ease the anxiety by texting you after the party, but when she looked down into the glow of the phone screen, rereading the words she’d typed out in apology, they seemed like the most laughable thing on the planet: rambles of incoherent, disconnected foolishness. She almost unsent them. You didn't respond anyway.

Tossing her phone aside, she picked up the guitar tilted against the side of her wardrobe with hesitation, and held it to her body, adjusting to regain fragments of familiarity. It felt a lot heavier than it used to, like the shadow of an old soul lingers around it, shaky fingers, greyed hair, gruff hum.

Her fingers strummed discordantly, in some distracted attempt at stringing together a tune, but no words came to mind when it was rampant with great hurricanes of guilt that dated back to times she didn’t even remember. A problem she couldn’t quite seem to rid herself of.

Now, she squats beside the dog’s makeshift food bowl under the porch light as fireflies flutter between the clusters of cobwebs bound to it, and she inspects the flecks of dust settled over the pet store biscuits when something clicks in her mind. The dog’s been acting weird. The barks have quieted to naught, he hasn’t gone outside to take his daily shit yet, and come to think of it, Ellie’s not sure he went yesterday either, but most importantly, the food has gone untouched.

After a Google search, Ellie bounds up the stairs, scouring the rooms for him, and stopping with a thumping heart when she spots his dark coat flopped atop a rug dejectedly. She kneels beside him and runs her fingers through the tufts of fur, muttering,

“You not feelin’ too good, goober?”

A wheezy sigh fills the silence, almost as if in response, and Ellie’s brows furrow in worry.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner. C’mon, let’s get you to the vet.”

10 minutes later, she’s in Tommy’s truck, the engine growls but she realises she doesn’t think she can do this alone. She’s formed a weird bond with the dog, greyed coat and warm eyes. They feel homely in a way that makes her stomach churn and her throat tighten. There’s a slight squeak of the leather steering wheel in her grip as she tenses.

Tommy’s out, Ellie’s not quite ready to see Maria, Jesse’s working nights, and a quick text exchange reveals Dina’s currently being knocked out by cramps.

She holds her phone in a shaky hand, glancing back at the dog who’s laying quiet on the floor and then looks back at the screen. It often hits her how small the number of people she can turn to is. Well, the list isn’t quite empty now. She’s yet to ask you.

So, with a thumb hovering over your number, twitching in hesitance for a few moments, she decides to bite the bullet and hits call. A few rings pass, each saturated with the increasing intensity of her heartbeat, and then you answer.

“Ellie?”

Your mind is foggy with sleep but you find yourself sitting beside her once again. The journey is quiet; you don’t feel the tension you thought you would. Maybe it's the fatigue obscuring your observation skills.

She steers the truck into the car park and gets out, jogging over to your side to open your door and help you down. She grunts as she urges the dog out of the van and they scuttle along down to the entrance side by side. You smile to yourself at the sight a couple of steps behind.

Not many questions were asked during the short phone call.

“I uh- Are… Are you free - right now?”

“Um, yeah, I’m free, why? Is everything okay?”

“My dog’s not looking too great and I gotta take him to the vet, I guess… I don’t really know… what I’m doing.”

She has a dog?

“Okay… Do you… Do you want me to come with you?”

The receptionist tells Ellie the dog needs to be on a leash and she apologises before taking a seat.

The waiting room’s quiet and Ellie looks a mess. Her hair is shorter, choppier, just barely hanging over the curves of her ear. You remember it looking longer in the pictures of her while she was back in LA. She needs help fixing it up. You can picture her craning her neck in the mirror to snip at stray locks. Cute. She bounces her foot incessantly and the fidgeting doesn’t hide the shaking of her hands. Her eyes tell you she’s somewhere else - a place you think you recognise from all those years ago.

You know what she needs, watch her distant eyes flit down to the sight of your hand over hers, bringing her back to the surface. Baby steps.

When the vet gives the verdict, that the issue shouldn’t last longer than a week, injects antibiotics into the scruff of the dog’s neck, Ellie’s shoulders seem less tense and you set off home.

There are thoughts that sometimes should stay internal, impulses you probably shouldn’t act upon.

But you love her. And you’re older. Less kind feelings about the concept of regret.

“Are you okay?”

She sighs, a slight croak in her voice but she smiles,

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. You-uh still living with Dina?”

“Mhm, but don’t drop me off there.”

Ellie turns to face you, eyes glancing back at the road repetitively,

“What? You don’t- You don’t have to do that-”

“Obviously I don’t. I want to.”

There’s a slight pause as she looks over your features and then shifts her focus back to the road, whispering,

“Okay.”

Then, Ellie looks up at the dog through the rearview mirror.

“You scared me there, old man, thought you were gonna throw up on my bed or something. Shit in the bathtub or something.”

You chuckle and she grins in that adorable way that drew you to her in the first place,

“I don’t know, dog’s are dumb. They do dumb shit.”

She tells you she just calls him Buddy and Buddy seems better already. He sleeps soundly in the backseat as Ellie’s fingers tap idly against the steering wheel. She glances over at you now and then, like she’s trying to make sense of the thoughts in your head through the expression on your face.

The door to the old house is like a portal to the old world, and when it’s open, you’re stepping into a memory. You can’t figure out if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. Ellie drops her keys onto the counter and moves to let Buddy settle in the corner of the couch, running her hand over his fur with veiny hands and tender movements, you almost feel a phantom touch down your spine. What it elicits in you seems a little dangerous.

A worn pair of sneakers is sprawled out by the door. How the fuck does she still have those?

You take a seat by the dog and try not to sound too tense,

“How have you been? I mean… with everything?”

It’s a loaded question, and she knows it, maybe too much so. Her jaw tightens for a moment, but she exhales slowly and settles beside you, her knee brushing yours, and, even though she’s very aware of it, she doesn’t move it away.

“Sobriety?” she asks, her voice careful. You nod.

Ellie leans back, resting her head against the couch. She stares at the ceiling, her fingers drumming against her thigh before curling into fists and imprinting crescent moons on her palm. Is she fighting the urge to pull away? She was always retreating when things got too close, too real. Your stomach is sinking.

“It’s… hard,” she admits, taking you by surprise though her voice is barely above a whisper.

“Some days are better than others. I haven’t…”

She pauses, taking in air like it’s suffocating to think about.

“I haven’t used anything in a while. Not since LA.”

“Good. I’m glad, Ellie. That’s good.” you say softly, knots loosening in your heart, but you keep your eyes trained on her, analysing every little expression, every little movement. Her lips twitch into a faint, almost bitter smile.

“Yeah. But it’s not just about not using, you know? It’s… so much… Everything else. Dealing with everything else… It’s so hard not to keep… chasing something, distracting myself, running away instead of facing it…

I fell into it so quickly before… I shouldn’t have… I should’ve tried to let you in.”

Swallow, the memories are filling your mouth, and they sting your insides as they move through you, still sharp as ever. Peace is all you need for her. Peace is all you need for her.

You don’t really go to her gigs anymore. It’s a wonder she still does them, comes home drunk out of her mind every time.

It’s haunting her every day.

The door opens, not surprising. You could hear her fuck around with the keys outside the door for a while before a gust of wind washes over you. She rushes to the bathroom and throws up again, dry heaving because there’s nothing to come out but alcohol.

It’s almost 4 AM. You rise to your feet and crouch down beside her, rubbing small circles over her back and feeling the nubs of her spine and the ripples of her ribcage beneath her thin T-shirt.

“Stop,” she spits out with a scratchy throat and through a choked sob.

You sit with her for a while, until she gets up and walks to her office.

The door closes behind her, leaving loud nothingness in her workroom.

As you lay in bed, gasps carry through the air. You wish, with everything in you, there was a way to heal these wounds, but you can feel it sinking, crashing.

“We can’t change the past, Ellie. And even if it hurt, I don’t blame you for what you did. You needed to leave. And… I just wasn’t what you needed at the time… You weren’t ready for a relationship. Running was all you could do.”

“I don’t want to run anymore,” she whispers, her voice firm despite the tremble in it,

“It’s weird… You’re right. I think I needed to get away from this place… Being here… The posters, the books, the desk, it’s like I kept finding little pieces of… kid me. And Joel.”

Her voice almost catches on his name but she looks at her hands and navigates the minefield of memories, so much better than she used to be able to.

“But looking at them now… I just… I feel like I can face it.”

Laced through her words, images of his face. Grief which rushed through her, mind, heart and soul. The guilt - the longing, that burdens her spirit, little by little, pieces dissipate into fireflies and fly away. Fragile steps towards being able to look him in the eye - the essence of him left behind in her life.

250,000 Miles is whirring through an old CD player, there’s a box of stir-fry on the table by Ellie. You’re sitting before her, laughing at her for pretending to know how to use chopsticks, and at the fact that she’s absolutely tanked at this game of Catan. But she’s grinning at you, and her chest feels warm.

“Alright, it’s literally 1 AM, we need to pack this up. I’m becoming delirious.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You scoff, your lips still curved into a smile, getting up to carry your dishes to the sink, “Shut up.”

She scoops the empty cans of cola vanilla scattered around the table into her arms and drops them by the sink to rinse them out beside you as you dry your hands. You catch her smirking and nudge her, watching her scoff and whisper,

“What?”

Ellie turns to you and her cheeks are tinged pink. You're grinning at her and she's smiling at you and it feels so natural, the soft curve of your back, the chub of your cheek, natural to fall back into that old rhythm; it’s so easy to forget that she isn't years back in the past, to just lean in so you can feel the warmth of her breath fan your lips.

An exhale catches in your throat, a sharp thrum in your chest as your eyes flit down to her lips. You begin to close the distance, but hesitation is inevitable. The fear of hurting, of falling into the ravenous love you felt before it's ripped away from you again.

Ellie doesn’t push, her eyes dropping to the space you give. She knows she fucked up. You have a girlfriend, and you want to be nothing more than friends.

“Sorry,” she mutters, her voice thick with regret.

But you need her to know now, that you want this as much as she does, that you need her as much as she needs you. That you miss her so much.

“I broke up with Alexis.”

Ellie looks up at you with those wide eyes.

“Let’s take our time, Ellie. We don’t have to rush into anything.”

She can’t help the way her eyelashes flutter, lips curve down into a reverse smile.

The couch is a tight squeeze with Buddy still asleep at the end of it.

You told her you were okay with sharing the bed, but she insisted, not wanting to push any further after what transpired earlier. The living room is cold - must be a draught coming in from somewhere. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep here.

Hesitant again, she sits up, and then makes her way to the bedroom, taking her place on the left side of the bed, facing you. And when you open your eyes, she doesn’t turn away.

“Night, El.”

“Goodnight.”

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