#like she expected her just to land and walk away like a cat

[wolvietxt]

ᰔ anesthesia !

↳ logan howlett x fem!reader

the fluorescent lights of the medbay hummed softly, casting a stark glow over the otherwise sterile room. logan paced back and forth outside the door, his boots scuffing against the polished floor. he hated this part - the waiting. the not knowing. his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, tension coiled in his shoulders like a spring wound too tight.

“she’s gonna be fine, logan,” jean’s voice came from behind him, calm and reassuring. “you know she’s tough.”

he grunted in response, not trusting himself to say anything else. tough or not, you’d gotten hurt. surgery had been necessary after a mission gone sideways, and now you were in there, under anesthesia, while he was stuck out here feeling useless.

when hank finally poked his head out of the medbay, logan stopped mid-stride. “she okay?”

“she’s fine. the procedure went well, but she’s still coming off the anesthesia,” hank said, smiling a little. “you can see her if you want. just don’t expect much sense out of her for a bit.”

logan nodded and pushed past him, his boots heavier than usual as he walked inside. his eyes landed on you immediately. you were sitting up slightly, looking drowsy but very much alive. relief washed over him like a tidal wave, but he masked it with a gruff expression as he crossed his arms.

“what the hell were you thinking out there?” he started, voice low and gravelly. “you can’t just throw yourself into danger like that - ”

“pspspsps,” you interrupted, your eyes zeroing in on him as if he were the most fascinating thing in the world. “kitty. come here, kitty.”

logan froze mid-lecture, his brows furrowing. “what?”

you reached out a wobbly hand toward his head, fingers making the unmistakable beckoning motion people used for cats. “kitty! your hair’s so… fluffy. come here, let me pet you.”

for a moment, he just stared at you, utterly baffled. you were high as a kite, and he had no idea how to handle it. “you’re out of your damn mind,” he muttered, but he didn’t move away when your hand made contact with his hair.

“so soft,” you mumbled, running your fingers through it with clumsy determination. “why didn’t you tell me you’re secretly a big ol’ kitty?”

he huffed, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “i ain’t a cat, darlin’.”

“mhm,” you said, clearly not believing him. your fingers trailed to his sideburns, and you giggled. “the whiskers. so majestic.”

logan’s patience was wearing thin, but not in the usual way. he was more amused than he wanted to admit, but he didn’t want to encourage you. “alright, that’s enough,” he said, gently taking your hand and lowering it back to your lap. “you’re supposed to be resting.”

“you’re supposed to be snuggly,” you countered, blinking up at him with wide, unfocused eyes. “c’mon, kitty. gimme a hug.”

he sighed deeply, muttering something about anesthesia making people loopy, but he leaned in slightly to placate you. you threw your arms around his neck, squeezing as much as your post-surgery state allowed.

“you smell nice,” you murmured into his shoulder. “like… woodsy. and safe. you’re so grumpy all the time, but you’re really sweet. my big, grumpy kitty.”

the words hit him harder than he expected, and he felt his throat tighten. he wasn’t used to being called sweet. most people saw the claws, the temper, the rough exterior. but here you were, high as hell and still managing to say the one thing that could disarm him completely.

he cleared his throat, patting your back awkwardly. “yeah, well, don’t go spreadin’ that around. gotta keep up my reputation.”

you pulled back slightly, your gaze dreamy but sincere. “i won’t tell. promise.” then you tapped your lips with a finger, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “but only if you purr for me, kitty.”

logan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “darlin’, you’re gonna regret all this when you’re sober.”

“nope,” you said, popping the “p.” “i’ll never regret you, logan.”

his chest tightened again, and he looked away, trying to hide the way your words affected him. “you’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was no heat behind it.

“and you’re my favorite kitty,” you replied, your voice softening as your eyelids began to droop. “such a pretty kitty…”

logan stayed by your side as you drifted off, your breathing evening out. he shook his head, a small, fond smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

“damn troublemaker,” he murmured, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face.

and if he stayed a little longer than necessary, making sure you were comfortable and safe, well, that was nobody’s business but his own.

ᰔ logan howlett : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen

@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h

@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun, @omen-keke, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd

@superlegend216, @mikaaki, @withasideofmeg, @samfunko, @aaronhotchnerlover

@qxuanii, @m1cky-y-y, @uncertified-doc, @cryingwta, @pvndomi

@marvelescvpe, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @misscrissfemmefatale, @ltristessedureratoujours, @meadow-field

@hazydespair, @stupid-little-birdie, @urlocallocachica, @person-005, @nestavadavat

@christinamadsen, @zaggprincess2, @lokixryss, @mehjustalasshere, @spktrlvr

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[rosenclaws]

Hi again! 👋

I'm throwing another request at ya since you did such an awesome job with the last fic idea I requested. (Thank you again for that)

This time with the OG Logan and all his kitty cat hair glory lol.

The reader has similar powers to scarlet witch. Like telekinetic powers, levitation, etc. Can it be a scenario where she loses connection (like how wanda feels connected to vision) with Logan and thinks that he's dead and she just snaps. The villians who claims they killed him mock her and she pulls the move like wanda did in Endgame where she's like you took everything from me, and the villians don't know who she is and she's like you will and just goes full beast mode on the villians involved.

Bonus, Logans alive, he just was knocked out real bad and sees the whole fight happen and was like wow I love her and they reunite and it ends all fluffy with a kiss, maybe a proposal? Lol 😘

Heartbeat || Logan Howlett x Reader

a/n: This was such a great request and I have to say I really loved writing this. I did. go a little angstier than I thought I would and its darker than I expected it to turn out but I really hope you like it. Your mutant name is firefly. Also. I still haven't seen the movies so I apologize if its not accurate to how the X-Men work or anything im sorry sdakfjl;

warnings: fake out death, violence, blood, killing, angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending, the reader goes on a rampage, he calls you honey, reader almost dies, creepy ass villian guy.

wc: 2.3k

"You alright there honey?" Logan's hand gently rests on your shoulder.

You're staring blankly out the jet window, watching the clouds pass by as you ready yourself for what is pretty much a suicide mission. A whole organization that had been hiding underground, dedicated to eradicating mutants.

They've studied you. Planned. They know things, your strengths, your weaknesses. A few people had infiltrated their base and what they found...It made you shiver. Photos and articles and deeply personal information.

They had photos of you and Logan.

It made you paranoid sometimes. Like they were always watching. So you had to put a stop to it as soon as possible. You didn't go on missions often. Your powers were, quite destructive. Powerful yes but not always needed but the X-Men needed everyone they could. You take a deep breath and try to smile convincingly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Logan snorts and cocks an eyebrow.

"You're lying right through those pretty teeth." There's an air of fear in the jet. You all know what might happen if you don't succeed.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. Promise."

"Yeah they're no match for the Wolverine and Firefly." Scott teases making Logan roll his eyes. Scott just loved messing with Logan, taking any jab he can to lighten the mood.

"Can it bub." He turns his attention back to you, happy to see a small smile on your face. Logan takes your hand and places it on his chest. Your hands glow as you reach deep and feel his heartbeat.

"See?" You take a deep breath as you listen.

Sometimes you got too much into your own head. Your powers were tricky and when you got overwhelmed Logan always knew how to calm you down. The world around you fades as you focus on the beat of his heart. The rise and fall of his chest. He was your rock. The jet jolts and Logan holds onto you as you stumble.

"Think I got time for a quick smoke before we head out?"

"No you do not." Storm walks up to the two of you, she shoos Logan away who reluctantly leaves.

"We're landing in 10 minutes, are you ready Firefly?" You take a deep breath and nod.

You stare at your hands as you little particles of orange start to sprout from your fingers. You had control of your powers most of the time but they were still a work in progress but you knew that this mission was important so you couldn't afford to lose control.

Once the jet lands Scott and Storm tell everyone the plan again. This was for the future of mutant kind and there was a lot at stake. Each of you had a small usb drive that would corrupt and destroy any files still left in their system. Infiltrate and destroy all of their plans.

"Do you feel like pancakes?" Logan asks as you step out of the jet.

"What?" He shrugs and stands a little taller.

"There's this diner, open all night. Thought that after you'd want to get something to eat." You know what he's doing. Trying to make you feel better, to believe that you'll make it out alive. You can't die if you have a plans.

"Sure Logan, pancakes sounds great."

"Then it's a date." Logan heads in the opposite direction of you.

He's part of the brute force while you slip into the shadows. Still it pains you to be away from him. A storm rumbles in the distance and you hurry off to your position, afraid of what was to come. Still you keep going.

This was going to end tonight.

"Shit!" You hiss as a bullet wizzes past you.

Things had went to shit pretty quickly and it's an all out brawl now. With a wave of your hands soldiers go flying to who knows where. You sneak behind one and infiltrate his mind. Using his fears to show you exactly where the main computer was being held. He falls to the ground and you step over him as you sneak inside.

It was getting bad, you could feel it. Feel the tiredness and pain your friends were feeling. The guards fall one by one as you make it to the center console room. Exhaustion was creeping up on you. Your powers exerting every bit of strength you had. Still you knew what had to be done.

You plugged in the usb drive and watched as the system crashes, deleting every single bit of information they could have on the X-Men. Then you slowly envelop the console with your powers, crushing it until there's nothing left. You press your finger to your ear, alerting the team you had wiped their main computer in the comms. There's nothing but static on the other end.

"Guys?" You feel your heart start to race as you run out of the building.

"Hello? Anyone? Storm, Jean, Logan?" Still nothing.

Suddenly you feel this horrible, horrible pit in your chest. You stop in your tracks. Blood running cold as terrible feeling washes over you. Logan. You can't explain it, but somethings wrong.

"Logan!" You plead into your comms for him to respond.

You burst through the doors and back onto the field. Your breath hitching as you see the destruction in front of you. For any normal villain's they would have been nothing in the way of you guys, but these people knew exactly who you were. Exactly how to stop each and every one of you.

It was a losing battle.

Your eyes dart around as you send blast after blast, trying to help but with every move of your hands you feel weaker. Suddenly you hear a loud yell, you turn around to see Logan driving his claws deep into the chest of someone. You feel relieved seeing him still standing.

"Logan!" You call out to him and he looks your way. There's blood splattered all over his face and he looks worried. He runs towards you as fast as he could go.

"Get down!" He roars.

BANG

It all happens so slowly.

You look to your side to see a man with a gun aimed right at you. The exhaustion plagues your brain as you react too late. You see Logan running at you. A desperate look in his face as he jumps at you. You hit the ground and so does Logan. He rolls away and lays still. To your horror there's a bullet right in his forehead.

"Logan!" You screech.

You scramble to his side. He's not getting up. Why is he not getting up? He heals. He should be fine. His healing factor should have kicked in so why isn't he getting up. You reach out to him but someone grabs your leg before you can. Your hands dig into the ground as you're yanked back. Dragged to the center of the field.

"Get the fuck off me!" You kick your feet and scream loudly.

Your hands glow but you're face is shoved to the ground, a foot on your neck slowly stopping the air from entering your lungs. You can feel your strength draining. You try and use your powers but you can't.

"He's dead sweetheart. Think we don't know about that neat little regeneration of his?" The man above you laughs and you start to feel sick.

"We're not fucking stupid." He takes his foot off your neck and you gasp for air. He reaches down and grabs you by the neck, forcing you to turn and look at Logan.

"Where's that healing of his now?" Logan remains unmoving, you try and reach out to him. Using any bit of your power to search for him but nothing. You can't feel anything. Tears start to fall as you let out an anguished cry.

"I thought you were supposed to be strong? We heard so much about you and now look at you." He lets go of your neck and you crawl to your knees. Clutching your chest as sobs wrack your body.

"Don't worry though," You hear a gun cock behind you.

"It'll be over soon. Go ahead and say hi to your little boyfriend for us."

You look up at him and feel nothing but an overwhelming amount of pure rage. How fucking dare they. They threatened your life, your friends, your world. They took your peace. They took Logan. The love of your life, he died saving you. Your hands glow bright orange, your chest heaving as you glare at the man standing in front of you.

"Oh look at that, looks like you can do something." He sneers. You chuckle darkly. Tilting your head to the side you smile. Your eyes start to glow as you become strangely calm.

"You took everything from me...So I'm going to take it all from you." You scream as a large wave of energy bursts from your body.

A wave knocking back everyone in your radius including your team. The line of friend and foe blur as you go on a rampage. Disposing of anyone who came after you with ease.

"Firefly!" Storm calls out to you, you were becoming uncontrollable. No one can even get near you. Jean tries to get into your head but you block her out.

No one can get to you now.

They took him from you and you were going to make him pay. You stalk to the ones that were foolish enough to stay. Though they were crawling away now, pleading for mercy. It almost makes you laugh. They were showing no mercy when they planned to eradicate you and your friends. Why would you show them any now?

"That's enough!" Scott fires a beam to stop you in your tracks.

"They're surrendering." He reaches out to you but you push him away.

"I don't care." You snarl. You raise your hand and lift the stragglers up in the air. You're about to slam them to the ground but someone grabs onto your wrist.

"Stop!" The grip is tight as they spin you around. The glow in your eyes fade as you take in who stands in front of you.

"Logan?" You whisper. You try and shake your hand free but he doesn't budge.

"Let them go, honey." He says gently.

"They tried to kill you." You feel the fire come back but Logan does everything he can to calm it.

"But they didn't. They can't hurt us anymore." Still you don't move. He loosens the grip on your hand, taking your other hand and placing it on his chest.

"I'm alive, just feel." Slowly you lower your hand, softly letting the men fall as the rest of the team deal with them as you collapse into Logan's arms.

"I thought you were dead!” You cried. You rest your head against his chest, hand still gripping his suit.

“You weren’t moving and I, I couldn’t feel you.” He cradles the back of your head and holds you tight.

“I’m so sorry I scared you honey, I’m alive. Just knocked out for a little bit.” Logan feels horrible.

Maybe if he had been a little quicker you both would be okay and you wouldn’t have had to deal with any of that. He grabs your face and kisses you with an intensity you've never felt. It's sloppy and desperate but full of life. He's alive. He's telling you that he's alive.

When you pull apart there's still tears streaming down your face. Still so overwhelmed from everything. He lets you cry into his chest as he soothes you. Wiping away the tears as they come.

"I love you so much." He whispers so only you can hear.

The rest of the team watch but don’t say a word. Letting the two of you sit there as long as you need. Soon your tears dry up but you don’t let go of Logan.

It’s a quiet walk to the jet. Everyone is absolutely drained. You lean on Logan's shoulder as he draws shapes on your thigh with his thumb. Your hand rests on his wrist, pressing into his pulse just to make sure he's still breathing.

"Pancakes." You say quietly. Logan looks over in slight confusion.

"Huh?"

"You promised me pancakes," You crack a tired smile.

Logan stares at you for a moment before laughing in disbelief. The weight of what happened finally catching up to him. How close he was to losing it all, how close you were to complete destruction. The toll it's taken on everyone in the jet. The last thing on anyone's mind mind should be doing anything other than sleeping for a week yet pancakes feel like the best fucking idea ever.

"Yeah we can get pancakes honey, as many as you want." He kisses your forehead and places his chin on your head.

"With chocolate chips?" You ask playfully.

"I'll make 'em put in extra. Just for you." You hum happily as you lean in closer to him.

It's still a long flight back and one by one everyone starts to fall asleep. Soon it's just the rumbling of the plane. You look up to see Logan has fallen asleep, you watch his chest rise and fall. Just for a little bit.

He grumbles in his sleep, twitching slightly. There's a scowl on his face as he starts to shift more. Quietly you tap your fingers against his head, taking away his nightmares. He stops moving, relaxing under your touch. You smile softly as you slide your hand down to his chest.

Closing your eyes you feel his heart again. In the back of your mind swirls the horrible memories of today but you choose to ignore them for now. You close your eyes and allow yourself to rest. The steady beat of his heart acting as the perfect lullaby.

Just a steady reminder that everythings okay, there's nothing to fear anymore.

Thump

Thump

Thump

[shimmerandink]

Gifts of Chaos

Jinx x Vi`s Girlfriend! Reader

Angst/one-shot

Tags: Jinx x reader, Vi x reader, you are Vi´s girlfriend, manipulating jinx, flirty behavior, girlfriend stealing, sfw

Summary: You, Vi´s girlfriend meets Jinx who get´s an interest in you. Vi however is not pleased and as time progresses your relationship slowly starts falling apart...

Masterlist pt2 pt3

The smell of smoke still lingered in the air when Vi stepped into the abandoned factory, her boots echoing against the cracked concrete floor. You were right behind her, staying close, your fingers brushing the small of her back, more for your reassurance than hers. You had heard stories about Jinx. Everyone had. But for Vi, it wasn’t a cautionary tale. It was blood. It was loss.

And now she was here.

Jinx stood atop a half-dismantled catwalk above, lit by flickering neon tubes she must’ve dragged in herself. The electric hum buzzed like insects in your ears, casting her in shadows and shifting light, half angel, half threat.

She jumped down with that impossible grace, landing with a soft clink of metal. Her boots, her belt, her weapons, everything about her screamed danger. But her grin? That was something else. Sharp, but curious. Wild, but almost childlike. She looked at Vi like a ghost had walked into her life.

And then her gaze slid to you.

The grin faltered.

Her head tilted to the side, slow and smooth, one of those braids swinging with the motion. Her pupils dilated just a bit too much, her smile twitching like static before settling into something unreadable.

"...And who is this?"

You froze under her stare. It was intense, not hostile, not at first, but strange. Hungry. Curious. Like you were something she didn’t expect to see, didn’t know she wanted to see until now.

Vi stepped in front of you, voice cold. "She’s not part of this. Don’t even look at her like that."

But Jinx didn’t look away.

“Your girlfriend?” she asked, dragging the word out like it tasted foreign in her mouth. "Seriously, Vi? All those years crying over me, and now you’ve got yourself a pretty little thing to patch the hole?"

You felt Vi tense, her jaw locking, but it was hard to focus with Jinx still watching you.

Not looking. Watching.

There was something in her eyes, like she was trying to peel you open and see what was underneath. And worse?

Part of you couldn’t look away either.

You didn’t flinch when Jinx stepped forward, though your heart was doing its best impression of a war drum. She was too close now. Close enough that you could see the way her pupils danced, always shifting, never resting. Like her mind was running a thousand miles a minute and you had become its latest obsession.

“Didn’t peg you for the soft type, Vi.” Jinx tilted her head again, letting out a low whistle. “She yours? For real?”

Vi’s stance didn’t change, but you could feel the shift in her breathing. Controlled. Tight. Ready.

“Yeah. She’s mine.”

Jinx let out a slow, dry laugh. "Cute." Her fingers twitched near the trigger of her gun, but she wasn’t aiming it. Not yet. “Tell me, "Mine",” she said, mocking Vi with the nickname, “do you even know who you’re cuddling up with at night?”

You opened your mouth to say something, but Jinx’s hand lifted, one finger pressed to her lips like a secret. “No no, don’t answer yet,” she whispered. “I wanna guess.”

She circled slowly, not stalking, but prowling. A cat curious about the mouse that doesn’t run.

“You’re not like her. Not rough around the edges. You’ve got soft hands, clean shoes. That uptown scent.” Her nose wrinkled slightly, but her smirk only grew. “You’re a Pilty, huh? What a twist.”

"Jinx," Vi warned, her voice low and dangerous.

But the younger woman’s eyes didn’t leave yours. “You know what I think?” she murmured, voice almost gentle now. “You make her feel like she’s not broken. Like maybe, if someone like you can love her, she isn’t so far gone.”

She took another step forward, and this time...you didn’t back away.

She noticed.

That crooked grin returned, but there was something different in it now. Something quieter. Less performative. “Huh,” she breathed, head tilting again. “You’ve got guts, sweetheart. I’ll give you that.”

Vi moved between you both again, her chest brushing yours as she shielded you. “Back. Off.”

But Jinx only backed up with a lazy shrug, hands raised. “Relax, sis. I’m not gonna hurt your new toy. Wouldn’t dream of it.” She licked her lips, eyes still flicking toward you. “Not unless she wants me to.”

Then she was gone, fading into the shadows with that soundless, uncanny grace, like a ghost returning to the dark.

You didn’t realize how tight your grip was on Vi’s arm until she turned to you, gently prying your hand free.

“You okay?” she asked.

You nodded slowly... but your eyes lingered on the spot where Jinx had vanished.

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

It had been nearly two weeks since you saw her, Jinx. But that night still played on loop in your mind like a broken reel, skipping back to her smile, her voice, her eyes. Especially her eyes.

Now, you sat across from Vi in a quiet little café tucked away in one of Piltover’s cleaner districts. The walls were a soft amber glow, lined with hand-painted tiles and hanging plants, like the kind of place that begged people to feel safe. The warmth of the lighting should’ve calmed you.

But you were anything but calm.

The soft chime of silverware against ceramic. The faint clatter of cups being washed behind the counter. Vi stirring her coffee too long, round and round with a spoon that barely touched the sides.

You couldn’t tell if she was thinking or just avoiding speaking.

Your food sat half-eaten. Warm stew, rich with spice and tenderness, but you’d been chewing like your mouth was made of cotton. You couldn’t taste anything anyway.

Finally, Vi broke the silence.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice low and rough like she hadn’t spoken in hours.

You looked up slowly. “For what?”

She stared down into her cup, watching the cream spiral like it might spell something out. “For bringing you down there. For letting you near her.”

Her. Even when she didn’t say the name, it hit like a slap.

Vi’s fingers tightened around the ceramic cup. “She wasn’t supposed to see you. I didn’t think—” Her jaw locked. “She looked at you like you were a fucking puzzle. And she doesn’t let go once she’s curious.”

You sat back slightly in your seat, eyes lowering. You didn’t want to lie to her.

Because part of you had felt it, too. That pull.

You still felt it.

Vi continued. “Jinx... she gets in your head. Always has. Back when we were kids, she’d twist people around her finger without even realizing it. Then blow it all up like it didn’t matter.”

The ice in her tone made your skin crawl. Not because she was wrong. But because it made you feel guilty. She doesn’t know what it did to you.

Vi leaned forward across the small table, reaching out to take your hand in both of hers. The callouses on her palms brushed against your softer skin, comforting, familiar. Steady.

“She’s dangerous. I don’t care if she smiled at you or made you feel... whatever. That’s what she does. I’m just glad you walked away untouched.”

Untouched.

Your throat tightened.

If only Vi knew.

Because Jinx had touched something. Not physically, but mentally. Emotionally. Like she’d crept inside a locked room in your chest and refused to leave.

“She won’t come back,” Vi said, almost like a promise. “I won’t let her.”

You nodded slowly, forcing a smile.

But your heart beat a little faster. Because you hadn’t told Vi about the strange symbol you found etched into your coat pocket the day after.

Or the folded scrap of metal you found in your purse. The one that wasn’t there before.

Or the smell of gunpowder and cherry gum that somehow lingered in your closet when you knew it had been shut for days.

Vi didn’t notice.

But you did.

And when she looked away again, back to her coffee, back to her guilt, you allowed yourself a tiny breath you didn’t want to examine too closely.

Because deep down...

You were kind of hoping Jinx would come back.

----------

The apartment used to feel like home. Now, it just felt like a box closing in.

The air inside was heavy, thick with something unsaid, something rotting between you and Vi. The warmth that used to sit between you both, that steady kind of love, had turned into a brittle, breaking thing. And maybe... maybe you weren’t doing anything to stop it.

Another fight.

You weren’t even sure what triggered it this time. Maybe Vi’s exhaustion. Maybe your distance. Maybe the way your mind had been elsewhere for weeks, caught in the web of something you didn’t want to name.

Vi stood across from you, jaw tight, fingers flexing at her sides like she was forcing herself to stay still. The dim kitchen light flickered slightly, buzzing between you both.

“You barely even talk to me anymore.”

Her voice was raw, low, edged with frustration but lined with something that almost sounded like hurt.

You swallowed. “I do talk to you.”

Vi scoffed, shaking her head. “No. You exist near me. That’s not the same.”

Your arms folded tightly over your chest, like maybe if you held yourself together hard enough, the words you didn’t want to say would stay locked in.

Vi exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “I feel like I’m losing you, and you won’t even fucking tell me why.”

Because I don’t know how to explain it.

How could you? How could you put into words the way something else had taken root in you? That every time you looked over your shoulder, you swore you saw a shadow just waiting for you to notice? That the little “gifts” left behind, burned playing cards, twisted scraps of metal, a single bullet with a smiley face etched into the casing felt more like a secret language than a threat?

Vi stepped closer, her presence grounding, real. Her voice softened just a fraction. “Whatever this is... just tell me.”

She was asking for honesty.

You gave her silence.

Vi’s expression hardened. She let out a bitter laugh, stepping back like she was realizing something too late. “You know what? Fine.” She turned away, gripping the edge of the counter. “Keep shutting me out. Keep pretending like I don’t see what’s happening.”

Something inside you twisted.

Vi shook her head. “I’m not gonna fucking beg you to be honest with me.”

You flinched at that.

She scoffed, her voice dropping. “You want space?” She gestured toward the door. “Take all the space you fucking want.”

Your throat felt tight.

Maybe you should have fought. Maybe you should have stayed.

Instead, you grabbed your jacket and left.

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

The city swallowed you whole.

Piltover’s clean streets bled into the underbelly, the winding alleys where the glow of street lamps didn’t quite reach. Your breath curled in the cold night air, hands stuffed in your pockets, shoulders hunched against the weight of everything left unsaid.

Vi’s voice still rang in your head. I’m not gonna beg you to be honest with me.

She didn’t know. She didn’t understand the pull inside you.

Or maybe she did. Maybe that’s what scared her.

Your fingers brushed against something in your pocket, something you didn’t remember putting there.

You pulled it out.

A small, round coin. It was warm, like someone had just been holding it. A familiar smiley face was scratched into the surface, jagged and uneven.

Your breath caught.

A breeze curled around you, carrying the faint scent of something sweet, something that shouldn’t be here.

Gunpowder and cherry gum.

No fucking way.

Something shifted in the shadows up ahead.

And then—

“Well, well... look who finally came looking for me.”

You froze.

Jinx stood just beyond the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp, one boot propped against the crumbling brick behind her. The neon streaks in her hair caught the low light, her cyan eyes glowing in the dark like something feral.

She was twirling a small knife between her fingers, lazy and smooth, like muscle memory. Her grin was wide, but her eyes, those goddamn eyes, stayed locked on you.

“I was starting to think you weren’t interested,” she teased, tilting her head.

You swallowed, hard.

She took a step forward, slow and deliberate. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You liked my little presents, didn’t you?”

A lump formed in your throat.

Jinx smirked. “Cat got your tongue?”

The night air felt thick around you, heavy and suffocating as Jinx moved ever closer. Each step she took toward you felt like a slow burn, a spark edging ever nearer to a fire you weren’t sure you wanted to stop. The only sound was the soft scrape of her boots on the cracked pavement, each movement deliberate, calculated. She was savoring this. Savoring you.

You should’ve walked away. You should’ve turned on your heel, swallowed down the tightness in your throat, and gone straight back to Vi. That’s what a good partner would do, right?

But Jinx’s voice pulled you in, weaving through your defenses like a poisonous melody.

“Y’know,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving yours, “I thought I was imagining it the first time. The way you looked at me.”

You stood frozen, your pulse hammering against your ribs. Her eyes, those cold, calculating eyes, held you captive, drawing out every ounce of shame, every flicker of desire you tried so hard to bury.

“But then I saw you again. Same look,” Jinx continued, her grin almost predatory. “Made me wonder… who were you really thinking about when you crawled into Vi’s bed at night?”

You didn’t know how to answer, because the truth was, every time you closed your eyes, it was Jinx you saw. The way she laughed, the way her hair glowed in the moonlight, the way her eyes burned into you like she could see inside you. You’d tried to deny it, but it was undeniable now.

She knew.

Her smile widened as your silence spoke louder than anything you could’ve said. “Oh, there it is,” Jinx said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “That guilt. That tension. You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you? Can’t get me out of your head. But you still tell yourself you’re not the one who’s lost.”

Her fingers twitched, the knife she’d been twirling now gone from her hand, slipped into the sheath at her hip. She didn’t need it. Her words were sharp enough to wound you, and she knew it.

Jinx stepped closer, one slow, deliberate step at a time, closing the distance between you with a predator’s grace. She was playing with you, circling you like she owned every inch of this moment. You tried to breathe, tried to steady yourself, but each movement she made only pulled you deeper into her web.

“You ever think about me, cupcake?” she asked, the nickname grating on your skin like sandpaper, but the way it rolled off her tongue made you feel things you couldn’t admit even to yourself. “Late at night, when you’re in Vi’s arms? When you’re kissing her, and it still feels... wrong?”

You hated how much it hurt to hear her say that. But you didn’t hate how much it was true.

You hated how much you wanted to believe it.

You swallowed thickly, but the words wouldn’t come. Jinx noticed your hesitation, noticed the way your breath quickened, the way you shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

She grinned, and it was sharp. “Oh, that’s it,” she purred. “You don’t wanna admit it. You think I don’t know? But you’re just mad Vi doesn’t make you feel like I do. Like this.”

She stepped closer, her breath warm against your ear, and for the first time since she’d appeared, you felt your body react to her. Her proximity. Her words. Her touch, her danger.

Jinx’s lips brushed lightly against your earlobe, and the warmth spread through you like wildfire, making your heart race even faster. “You’ve been playing pretend for so long, haven’t you? Hiding from what you really want. But it’s not gonna go away.” Her voice dropped lower, darker. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She lingered there for a moment, then pulled back just enough to look at you. Her eyes danced with mischief. “Go on. Run back to her. Tell her you went for a walk and got lost.” Her lips curled in that same sharp, twisted smile. “Or don’t. I’m not going anywhere.”

And with that, she turned away, her steps light and casual, but every single movement dripped with confidence. She was walking away, but you could feel her pulling you with her.

“You won’t be able to resist,” she called back over her shoulder, her voice carrying in the night. “I’ll leave you another present, sweetheart. Let’s see how long you can pretend you don’t wanna open it.”

And just like that, she was gone. Her figure blending into the shadows, her presence hanging over you like a curse.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, the cold wind biting at your skin as the adrenaline started to wear off. Your heartbeat thudded in your chest, each pulse sending a wave of guilt and want crashing through you. Jinx was right, you wanted her. But you didn’t know what that meant anymore.

And maybe... maybe you never had.

Your fingers shook as you reached into your pocket, feeling for the coin she’d left for you. You pulled it out slowly, your hands trembling. It was warm, like she had just touched it. The familiar smiley face stared back at you, its jagged edges looking almost too real in the dim light.

This was no coincidence.

It was a challenge.

And you couldn’t tell if you were terrified or excited.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑰𝒄𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒔𝒕 // 𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

Parent Alexia x reader. Spanish in italics.

You’re trying not to laugh as you and Mapi sneak down the hotel corridor, tubs of ice cream tucked under your jumpers. Your heart’s pounding with the thrill of getting away with it, and Mapi’s grinning like a cat that got the cream. You’re half expecting a security guard or one of the staff to catch you, but you make it to your room without incident.

Mapi fumbles with the key card, whispering, “Why does this never work when I need it to?” You’re practically bouncing on the balls of your feet, nerves and excitement mingling. Finally, the door clicks open, and you both slip inside, still trying not to burst into giggles.

The second the door shuts, you freeze and drop the ice cream hidden beneath your jumper. It lands on the floor with a thud. Alexia’s sitting on one of the beds, arms folded across her chest, lips pressed into a thin line. Ingrid’s leaning against the wall, her expression more amused than angry, but still giving Mapi a pointed look. You feel your stomach drop, and all the adrenaline from your little heist drains out of you in an instant.

“Shit,” Mapi mutters under her breath, and you glance at her, wide-eyed.

Alexia’s gaze narrows, her voice low and deceptively calm. “Where have you been?”

You glance up at Mapi, waiting for her to come up with one of her clever lies, but to your absolute shock, she points at you. “It was her idea,” she says, all too quickly.

Your jaw drops. “What?”

Alexia’s eyes snap to you, her eyebrow arching. “Is it true?”

You sputter, still trying to process the sheer betrayal. “No! It was not my idea!” You shoot Mapi a look, but she’s already pretending to inspect her nails, as if she has nothing to do with this mess. “She’s lying, Mama! She’s the one who said we should sneak out!”

Mapi scoffs, giving you an exaggeratedly offended look. “Ay, don’t throw me under the bus now. You wanted ice cream just as much as I did!”

You glare at her, practically vibrating with indignation. “Yeah, but you’re the one who said it was a ‘genius idea’ and that Alexia would never know!”

Alexia clicks her tongue, and both of you fall silent. She’s staring at Mapi now, and even Mapi has the sense to look a little sheepish under that glare.

“María León,” Alexia says, voice icy. “I know it was your idea. And you dragged her into it.”

Mapi shrugs, though she’s trying to look apologetic. “Okay, okay… maybe a little.”

Ingrid snorts from her spot by the wall. “You’ve got to get better at lying, mi amor.”

Mapi flashes her a cheeky grin. “I would if Ale didn’t have superpowers when it comes to sniffing out trouble.”

Alexia cuts her a look that has her quieting immediately. Then she turns back to you, her expression softening just a little. “And you went along with it, huh?”

You glance down, cheeks burning. “She said it would be quick… and I didn’t think you’d notice.”

Alexia sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Of course I notice when you and Mapi disappear. You two are like a magnet for chaos.”

You bite your lip, glancing up through your lashes. “I’m sorry.”

Mapi huffs a laugh and nudges your shoulder. “Don’t apologize. We didn’t even get caught-“

“Until now,” Alexia interjects, shooting Mapi a glare that has her grinning sheepishly. “What did I tell you about eating ice cream the night before a game?”

You scuff your toe against the floor, mumbling, “That it hypes me up and makes it hard to sleep…”

“And yet?” Alexia prompts, clearly unimpressed.

You swallow hard, glancing over at Mapi, who just shrugs like she’s already accepted her fate. “I didn’t think you’d find out,” you admit.

Alexia sighs, running a hand through her hair before pointing at the bed. “Sit. Both of you.”

You and Mapi shuffle over and plop down on the bed, shoulders brushing. Ingrid pushes off the wall, walking over to pat Mapi on the head like she’s some wayward puppy. “You’re hopeless,” she teases, and Mapi shoots her a playful glare.

Alexia gives you both a look that’s stern but not unkind. “I’m not mad,” she starts, and you both relax a little. “But I am disappointed. You know better than this. Especially you,” she says, nodding at you. “I expect this from her,” she adds, gesturing at Mapi.

Mapi snorts, completely unbothered. “Fair.”

Alexia sighs again, softer this time. “Next time, just… ask. I’m not unreasonable. But sneaking out in the middle of the night before a match? That’s pushing it.”

You nod, guilt settling in. “Sorry, Mama.”

Her expression softens, and she leans down to kiss your forehead. “I forgive you. Just… don’t do it again.”

You nod again, and Mapi grins, nudging you with her elbow. “See? We got away with it.”

Alexia rolls her eyes, giving Mapi a shove on the shoulder. “Go to bed before I change my mind and make you both run laps tomorrow.”

Mapi flops backward dramatically, grinning up at the ceiling. “Ah, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Ingrid just shakes her head, nudging her girlfriend’s leg with her foot. “You’re a bad influence.”

Mapi just grins, unrepentant, and you can’t help but smile despite the earlier panic. Alexia ruffles your hair before stepping back. “Sleep. Both of you. And no more sneaking out.”

You and Mapi mumble your agreement, and as the door closes behind Ingrid and Alexia, Mapi rolls over to face you, still grinning.

“Worth it,” she whispers, and you snort despite yourself.

“You almost got us killed,” you mutter, but you’re grinning too, because as chaotic as it was, you can’t deny that sneaking out with Mapi was kind of fun.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

[rowie264]

Jinx x jinxer!reader. First meeting

You don’t really know how you ended up like this.

Truth to be told... you never really believed in your “leader”, if Jinx could even be called that. You didn't even fully dye your hair blue like the others. Just a small strand. In your eyes, Jinx did nothing but blow up the Council and redirect the Grey to Piltover. But even then… it was enough for you to make you join “Jinxers”.

You knew her actions will cause problems to Zaun. But you were so fucking done. You were too tired of being a rug under pilties boots. And maybe that was what Zaun needed to finally reach point of no return and fight back. And you wanted things to change.

So one day your hopeless gray life turned blue.

And now you were here, using your artistic abilities to portray Jinx as a kind of savior and leader of the revolution, as you were asked to do. Only instead of flag and shit you drew her with bombs and explosions. It was more like the image of Jinx you had.

“My eyes and nose are not like that.” Someone’s raspy voice reaches your ears.

You turn to face the intruder and see a girl sitting on the beam above few meters away. Somehow you just knew it was Jinx. You felt it in your gut, even though it was the first time you had encountered her.

You couldn't see her face completely hidden by the shadows, but you could see the color of her eyes. Pink, like shimmer.

“It’s the closest description I’ve got.” You say, too calm for a person who’ve met a Loose Cannon. And before you can stop yourself you add: “Maybe you could pose me so I could do it right?”

After that, there was silence between the two of you. Jinx didn't seem to expect such a reaction from you. You were surprised by your carelessness as well. She was dangerous and insane after all.

“Why not?” she says after a couple of seconds, probably agreeing out of boredom, and jumps off, landing smoothly like a cat.

As she comes over, you finally see her face. It does differ a little from what you were drawing. You also notice how short she is. She wasn't as intimidating as some people described. Although, perhaps, it was such thoughts that led many to their deaths.

You start correcting your painting, glancing at her from time to time, trying to convey her features as accurately as possible. You could lose yourself in art, even standing next to the most wanted criminal. Maybe you were crazy too?

“I'm not a hero you make me out to be, ya know?” Jinx suddenly comments after some time, looking at portrait of herself. Judging by the way she was tapping her feet, it took a lot of effort for her to stand still.

“I am aware.” You respond distantly too focused on your task, barely paying attention to anything around you. You almost finished.

“Then why?” She asks tilting her head and observing you like a hawk.

You take a step back, glancing at the wall to check everything one last time. “Why not?” you repeat her own words from earlier.

Jinx huffs, hiding that she's confused by your answer again. You're not like the other Jinxers she's met before. You treated her almost indifferently, like an ordinary stranger. Not like symbol of Zaun, not like Loose Cannon, but just… Jinx.

“So whatcha gonna do for me for posing to ya?” she casually changes the subject.

“You didn't mention that I have to pay you.” You frown at her, inwardly cursing yourself for being so carefree for not asking earlier.

“Don’t sweat it, toots, I don’t need money.” She waves her hand dismissively and you are not sure if paying with something else is any better.

“Then what?”

“Hmm… let's see…” Jinx walks around you, wondering what to ask you. “You drew me… so it would be fair if I drew on you back, don't you think?”

“Draw me, you mean?”

“I didn’t stutter, toots.” She scoffs pulling crayon out of her pocket.

“Don’t move.” Jinx orders and grabs your wrist. Without asking your permission, she starts drawing something right on your arm.

You didn’t protest – out of your safety and curiosity. Her grip was firm but surprisingly gentle. You couldn't help but look at her tattoos until your gaze landed on her face. This close, you could see her freckles. The word “cute" flashed through your mind as you stared at her in fascination.

“Here!” She suddenly announces with a beaming smile, pulling you out of your little bubble. You look down at your arm and see little pink clouds painted from wrist to elbow.

“Don't wash it off until I meet you again.” Jinx says and walks away, disappearing into the shadows without explaining anything, leaving you wondering when you'll be able to meet her once more. But to some extent… you want it to happen.

And until then, you would try to keep the clouds on your body.

[rottenpumpkin13]

I find it so hilarious that due to the shenanigans that happens in the tower, since mayor Domino has a security cameras everywhere, I can't imagine the things he sees and they're all funny as hell.

Out Of Context Things Mayor Domino Has Witnessed Through Security Cameras:

• Sephiroth, poised and disciplined, strolling through the SOLDIER floor calmly. Until he abruptly pivots into a broom closet, where the security feed catches a single, deafening "FUCK!" He then emerges, perfectly composed, like nothing happened.

• Reeve Tuesti, at 3 AM, roaming the halls in a full-body cat onesie, shaking two pill bottles like maracas.

• Zack sprinting full-speed down the hallway, screaming bloody murder. Moments later, Angeal appears in hot pursuit, wielding a buzzing electric toothbrush like a weapon, dental floss clutched in his other hand like he's about to lasso a runaway horse.

• Reno, walking at his usual lazy pace, cigarette in mouth, completely unbothered—until he spots a Sephiroth cardboard cutout in the hallway. He immediately looks left, looks right, then leans in and kisses it way too passionately before walking off like nothing happened.

• Genesis dramatically recounting gossip on the phone, gesturing wildly. Mayor Domino didn't catch the full story, but the part he did hear went "And then she slathered the honey on her breasts, which INFURIATED him, which is why he quit veganism. But that's unrelated to why he beat up his cousin with a block of salami."

• Rude, entering an elevator alone. No words, no hesitation. He reaches into his blazer pocket, pulls out a perfectly styled wig, and wears it for the entire elevator ride, staring straight ahead. The second the doors open, he removes it and pockets it again.

• Hours upon hours of footage of Lazard flipping off President Shinra every time he thinks no one's watching. Mayor Domino has seen so much of this footage that he printed out screenshots and made a mosaic collage of Lazard's middle fingers. It's framed in his office.

• Tseng caught on camera standing completely still in the break room, drinking coffee, when Reno enters and opens the fridge. Without breaking eye contact, Tseng casually says "That pudding is mine." Reno, unfazed, takes the pudding out. Tseng calmly draws a gun.

• Zack jumping from the ceiling vents, dusting himself off. Then he looks back up, spreads his arms wide, and coos "Come on, buddy, I got you! It's okay!" Mayor Domino expected a human. Maybe Cloud Strife. Instead, a giant rat leaped from the vents, lovingly into Zack's arms.

• Genesis, striding down the hallway, suddenly stopping. His gaze lands on a fire alarm. He stares at it. Long. Hard. The security feed shows him sighing deeply, pulling a religious book from his coat, and reading a verse about temptation aloud. Then, with a satisfied nod, he smooths his coat, flips his hair, and walks away. Exactly one minute later, he comes sprinting back, yanks the fire alarm, and flees the scene.

• Angeal, in the break room, just trying to enjoy some peace and quiet. The door swings open. Cait Sith waddles in cheerfully. "A good day tae be alive ain't it, lad? Ye know, in th' grand scheme o' things, assassinating President Shinra would be a real power move!" Angeal bursts into laughter—unhinged, exhausted laughter—like a man finally breaking under the weight of his reality. Still chuckling, he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a bottle of sleep meds, pops two like they're breath mints, and leans back against the chair.

• Angeal, Sephiroth, and Genesis standing before the training room doors. This was after Lazard banned them after their last "incident." The security feed shows them hijacking the access panel, bypassing the lock, and triumphantly striding inside. Exactly ten seconds later, the doors reopen. All three exit with their hands in the air. Escorting them out is Lazard, shotgun in hand.

• Zack and Cloud enter an elevator together, alone. The doors close. The security feed catches Zack saying: "Now that we're alone… you know what we can do, right?" Domino thinks he might need to avert his eyes. But then, without hesitation, Zack clambers into Cloud's arms like a toddler.

• Sephiroth and Hojo, approaching each other from opposite hallways. They're destined to meet at the corner. Until they don't. The footage clearly shows Sephiroth stopping mid-stride, eyes narrowing. He has sensed something. A disturbance. Evil. The next second, he yeets himself out a nearby window.

[bueckersstuff]

A/N: Maybe we all just needed a good cry. Give me all your reactions for this one.

PART III

It starts with stolen glances. The kind that burn too much to meet head-on. You catch Paige staring once in the cafeteria, her eyes heavy with something you can’t name. Guilt? Regret? Desire? Maybe all three. You look away first. Because you have to. Because if you don’t, you’ll lose yourself in her all over again.

You’re still friends. Barely. Conversations have turned into clipped exchanges, like you’re both terrified of saying the wrong thing. The air between you is thick, suffocating, charged with everything you aren’t saying.

And Azzi notices.

“Awfully quiet lately,” she muses one afternoon, her voice dripping with amusement. She leans back against a table, arms crossed as she watches you like a cat watching a wounded bird. “Gotta admit, I miss your little comebacks.”

You roll your eyes. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Mm.” She tilts her head, eyes flicking toward Paige, who sits across the courtyard, fidgeting with her bracelet. Her fingers tremble.

“Something feels… different.” Azzi's gaze lands back on you, sharp. “You feel it too, don’t you?”

You refuse to bite. Instead, you force a smirk, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets. “Maybe you’re just paranoid.”

Azzi chuckles darkly. “Maybe.”

But she doesn’t believe it. And neither do you.

Emma is leaving for Harvard in the morning, and you spend the day together, laughing too loud, being a little too close. You’ve always been affectionate, but today it’s different. You need the distraction, the warmth.

Paige is there too, lingering at the edge of your world, watching but never joining.

When Emma loops her arm through yours, pulling you closer as you walk across campus, you see the way Paige’s jaw clenches. The way her eyes darken.

And Azzi sees it too.

You sit at an outdoor café near campus, Emma beside you, her head resting against your shoulder as she scrolls through her phone. Paige sits across from you, arms folded, lips pressed into a thin line.

Azzi stirs her drink, then speaks, her voice deliberately casual. “You’re awfully touchy today.”

Emma barely glances up. “We’ve always been like this.”

Paige scoffs under her breath. Your stomach twists.

Azzi smirks, nudging Paige’s foot under the table. “Tell me, babe, does that not bother you at all?”

Paige stiffens. Your breath hitches.

“I—” Paige swallows hard, her gaze darting between you and Emma before she pushes back her chair abruptly. “I need to go.”

She leaves without another word.

You barely hear Emma calling your name as you get up to follow.

You find her near the library, pacing, running her hands through her hair. The second she sees you, she stops.

“We need to do something,” she says, voice tight, desperate. “Or we’re going to lose even this.”

“Paige—”

“I mean it.” She steps closer, her eyes glassy, pleading. “I can’t— I can’t pretend like nothing’s wrong. Like I don’t—” Her breath hitches. “Like I don’t feel this.”

Your heart cracks open. “You’re still with Azzi.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “I know.”

“Then what do you expect me to do?” Your voice breaks, because damn it, this hurts. This is torture.

Her hands clench at her sides, shaking. “Tell me what you want.”

You swallow, throat dry. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Yes, it does!” she nearly shouts. “Because every time I look at you, I feel like I can’t breathe. Because I can’t sleep knowing I hurt you. Because seeing you with Emma—” She chokes on the words, her breath coming in sharp gasps. “I hated it.”

You can’t breathe. You can’t move. Your heart is slamming against your ribs so violently it hurts. She looks at you—her lips slightly parted, her eyes filled with something you can’t name, something fragile and raw. This is everything you wanted. Everything you hated wanting.

But she still has Azzi.

The silence stretches between you, suffocating.

You see it—the moment doubt flickers in her eyes, the moment she starts to retreat, to convince herself that maybe she imagined this entire thing—

And then it happens.

"Paige, I feel the same."

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. Before you can think. Before you can even breathe.

Paige freezes. Your stomach drops.

Her eyes widen slightly, shock flashing across her face.

"What?" she whispers.

Panic flares in your chest, but it’s too late to take it back. Your hands curl into fists. "I—" Your voice falters, but you force yourself to continue. "I’ve been in love with you too."

A sharp inhale. Her fingers twitch. "Since when?"

You swallow hard, your throat tight, your entire body screaming at you to run. But you don’t. Instead, you force yourself to look at her—really look at her.

"Since I transferred." Your voice is barely above a whisper. "I didn’t know it at first. I thought… I thought I was just happy to see you again. But then it got worse. Every time I saw you with Azzi, every time I had to remind myself that you weren’t mine, it—" You break off, shaking your head. "It was always you, Paige. I just didn’t see it until now."

Something flickers across her face—relief, disbelief, something close to hope. But it only lasts a second before reality crashes back in. Because this changes nothing.

She still has Azzi. And now you both know the truth.

The weight of it is unbearable.

Paige lets out a breathless, shaky laugh, running a hand through her hair. "This is so messed up."

You almost laugh too, but it would sound too much like crying. "I know."

You stare at each other, caught in the gravity of what you’ve just done. What you’ve just admitted. Your mind is racing—thinking about every moment leading up to this, every memory that suddenly means something different now.

"Do you remember the summer before college?" Paige asks suddenly, her voice soft.

You nod, your chest tightening. "Yeah."

"The night before I left, we sat on my roof for hours. Just talking. I didn’t want to go." She shakes her head, a sad smile pulling at her lips. "I thought I was just scared of change. But maybe…" She exhales. "Maybe I was scared of leaving you."

A lump forms in your throat. You remember that night too well. The way the summer air smelled, the way your arms brushed every time one of you moved, the way you stayed long after she fell asleep, just listening to her breathe.

"Do you ever think about what would’ve happened if I stayed with you?" you whisper.

Paige’s eyes darken, something painful flashing through them. She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she steps closer, her fingers grazing yours. "I think about it all the time."

The confession makes your breath hitch. But before you can respond, reality slams back between you.

Azzi walks in.

The silence is deafening.

Paige turns, eyes wide, her face pale as Azzi stares at you both, her expression unreadable. But her hands curl into fists.

“Well,” Azzi says, voice low, sharp. “That was quite the confession.”

Paige sucks in a breath. “Azzi—”

“No,” Azzi cuts her off, stepping closer. “Go ahead, babe. Finish what you were saying.” She glances at you, eyes burning. “Or maybe she can.”

You swallow hard. You can see it—the betrayal brewing in her eyes, the storm about to break.

Paige turns back to you, eyes still begging.

But you don’t have an answer.

Because in the end, love isn’t enough. Not when it hurts this much.

The silence is thick, stretched so tight it feels like the air might shatter around you. Azzi stands there, fists clenched, shoulders rigid, her breath uneven. Paige hasn’t moved. Her lips are parted slightly, like she wants to say something, but nothing comes out.

You feel frozen, trapped between them, between the wreckage of whatever this is turning into.

Then Azzi laughs—sharp, bitter, and hollow.

"You know," she says, voice trembling with something more dangerous than anger. "I should’ve seen this coming." Her eyes lock onto Paige, burning. "You’ve been like this ever since I took her place in your life."

Paige flinches like she’s been slapped. "What?"

Azzi’s voice rises, her composure cracking. "Don’t act surprised! I’m not stupid, Paige!" She takes a step closer, jaw tight. "We’ve been together for years now. You should have known everything about me by now. My favorite songs, my comfort movies, the way I drink my coffee. But no, even just my simple Starbucks order confuses you. Maybe you’ve been mistaking hers for mine." She lets out a sharp breath, shaking her head. "Hell, you even called me by her name once."

Paige stares at her, horror flickering across her face. "No—I wouldn’t—I—"

"You did," Azzi spits. "And you didn’t even notice."

You feel your stomach drop. You don’t know what to say, don’t even know how to process this.

Paige’s hands are shaking now. "That’s not—I didn’t mean—Azzi, please, you’re twisting this—"

Azzi lets out a strangled, bitter laugh. "Twisting it?" She presses a hand against her forehead, exhaling sharply. "God, Paige, open your fucking eyes!"

Paige takes a shaky step back. She looks lost, overwhelmed, her body trembling with something close to panic.

"I didn’t know," she whispers. Her face is pale, eyes glassy. "I—I didn’t mean to—"

Azzi shakes her head, her voice breaking. "You did. Even if you didn’t realize it, you did."

The weight of the revelation crashes down on Paige, and you can see it—the moment she finally understands, the moment it all clicks. Her breathing turns shallow, like she’s drowning in her own guilt.

Azzi takes a deep breath, steadying herself before looking Paige dead in the eye. "So choose."

Paige freezes. "What?"

"You heard me." Azzi’s voice is eerily calm now, controlled in a way that makes your skin crawl. "Choose. Her or me."

Paige’s breathing falters. "Azzi, please—"

"No." Azzi shakes her head. "No more half-assing it. No more standing in the middle. No more pretending this isn’t what it is." She takes another step forward, voice dropping to a near growl. "But let me make one thing very clear—if you choose her, you’re not just choosing to be with her." Her eyes flick to you for a fraction of a second before returning to Paige. "You’re choosing to ruin her."

Your heart stops.

"You know what will happen," Azzi continues, her voice sharper now, laced with something dark. "We’re not just anyone, Paige. We’re UConn’s golden couple, whether we like it or not." Her lips curl into something that’s not quite a smile. "And you think the fans won’t rip her apart if they find out you left me for her?"

You feel cold.

Paige’s hands clench at her sides. "Azzi, don’t—"

"Don’t what? Be honest?" Azzi scoffs. "You think the media won’t eat this up? That people won’t turn on her? That she won’t get hate, threats, accusations?" Her eyes flick to you again, her stare piercing. "You think she can handle that, Paige? You think you can?"

Paige looks at you now, her face crumbling, torn between two impossible choices.

And that’s when fear truly settles in your bones.

Because you see it. The way she’s shaking, the way her breathing is uneven, the way her eyes dart between you and Azzi like she’s staring at the edge of a cliff. You can feel it—the weight of it all crushing down on her, pressing her toward the inevitable.

You suddenly realize that Paige might not choose you.

Not because she doesn’t love you. Not because she wants to be with Azzi.

But because she’s terrified. Because she’d rather destroy herself than destroy you.

And that’s when you finally speak.

"Paige." Your voice is quieter than you expect, but it cuts through the tension like a knife. "Do you really think I can’t fight for us?"

Silence. Heavy and suffocating.

Paige looks at you, and for the first time, she looks completely defeated. Her shoulders slump, her eyes dark with exhaustion, her lips parted like she wants to speak but can’t find the words. Your heart clenches at the sight—this isn’t the same Paige you grew up with, the one who would run barefoot on pavement just to catch up with you, the one who laughed until she couldn’t breathe.

"I know how strong you are," she finally whispers, her voice so quiet I almost don’t hear it. "I know how brave you are. You’ve been with me since I was just a nobody… just a rising star." She exhales, shaking her head. "But things are different now."

Your throat tightens. "Paige—"

"It could get dangerous for you." Her voice cracks, and she grips her hands into fists like she’s holding herself together. "The things people say, the way they will treat you if this gets out—it’s not just about me anymore. You’ll be dragged into this mess, and I can’t let that happen."

Tears burn at your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. You feel sick—like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, screaming into an endless void. And then you hear it—Azzi’s sharp exhale, the sound of satisfaction.

You don’t even have to look at her to know she’s content with the way this is going.

Paige inhales deeply, turning to Azzi. Her voice steadies. "I’ll stay. With you. But only for the press."

Azzi’s satisfaction falters. Her smirk twitches into a scowl. "Excuse me?"

"I said," Paige repeats, steel laced in her tone, "I’ll stay with you for the media. Nothing else."

Azzi’s eyes darken, jaw clenching. "You think you can play me like that?" she hisses, stepping closer. "I’ll make your little best friend’s life a living hell."

That’s it. That’s when Paige snaps.

"If you do that," Paige warns, her voice dangerously low, "then to hell with the media. I don’t care what happens—if you so much as breathe in her direction the wrong way, I’ll make sure all hell breaks loose. You know I will."

Azzi stares at her, lips parting in shock—maybe even fear—but she quickly masks it. Instead, she scoffs, rolling her eyes before turning toward you. "Whatever," she mutters.

"We have media availability later, babe." She throws that word at Paige like it’s a weapon, then glares at you, smirking. "See you around."

You flinch, but you don’t break.

Azzi walks out, and suddenly, it’s just you and Paige. The weight of everything crashes down at once. Your legs feel weak, your head spinning.

"This isn’t fair," you whisper.

Paige steps forward, her hands reaching for you, hesitating before finally holding your face, her thumbs brushing away the tears you didn’t even realize had fallen.

"I know," she breathes. "I know it’s not fair. And I’m so sorry."

You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Paige, you don’t have to do this. Don’t put yourself in a difficult situation just for me—"

"This isn’t just for you." Her voice is soft, but firm. "It’s for us. This is the only way I can protect you. Just until we graduate. Then, we’ll figure it out. I promise."

You look into her eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, any hesitation. But all you see is her—the girl you’ve always known, the girl you’ve always loved, making yet another sacrifice for you.

"I should’ve seen this sooner," she says, voice trembling. "I should’ve realized how much you meant to me back in high school. Maybe if I did, we wouldn’t be here. Maybe you wouldn’t be hurting like this."

You close your eyes as she presses her forehead against yours.

"But I swear to you," she murmurs, "I’ll make this right. Someday. I don’t care how long it takes.”

Her words should comfort you. They should be enough.

But as she pulls away, as you feel the cold settle between both of you, you knew the truth.

Nothing will ever be the same again.

It’s been weeks since that night. Since the confrontation. Since Paige chose Azzi—for the press, for protection, for you.

But it doesn’t feel like she chose anything at all.

You don’t talk anymore. Not really. Not the way you used to. Every interaction is careful, distant, an unspoken understanding that you can’t be who you were to each other. Azzi made that clear without even needing to say the words. You’re not welcome in Paige’s world anymore. Not really.

At first, you both tried. There were small, desperate attempts to hold onto something—casual smiles in passing, stolen glances across the quad, a few lingering moments between classes where she’d reach like she wanted to say something but never did. But the more you tried to pretend, the worse it got.

Now, Paige just looks tired.

You see it in the way her shoulders slump when she walks past you, in the way she grips her bag tighter like it physically hurts not to reach out. In the way she lingers, hesitating like she’s about to speak, only to say nothing at all.

And the worst part? You can’t do anything about it.

So you stop trying. You stop going to her games.

At first, it’s because you don’t want to deal with Azzi. You don’t want to see them together, don’t want to be reminded of the choice Paige made. But eventually, it becomes something else entirely.

You can’t watch her play.

Because Paige isn’t Paige on the court anymore.

She’s off. Missing shots she never used to miss. Making sloppy passes. Moving slower, like her body is working against her.

The commentators try to spin it as fatigue, because of her past injuries. But you know better.

She’s lost something. And you’re terrified that it’s you.

One night, you force yourself to watch the game on TV. Just once.

Just to see if maybe you’re imagining things.

You’re not.

The screen flickers, the camera zooming in on Paige as she wipes sweat from her forehead. Her expression is unreadable, but you know her too well.

She’s miserable.

The game is close. Tied with only a few seconds left on the clock. Paige is supposed to take the final shot.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she hesitates. Just for a second. But it’s enough for the opposing team to steal the ball, sprinting down the court for an easy layup. The buzzer sounds. UConn loses.

The crowd groans, the commentators stunned silent for a beat before trying to cover up the shock in their voices. “That’s… unexpected. Not like Paige at all.”

You stare at the screen, your heart in your throat.

She doesn’t even look mad at herself. Just defeated.

Azzi walks up to her as they’re leaving the court, saying something you can’t hear. Paige doesn’t react. Doesn’t even look at her. She just walks off, head down, eyes blank.

You shut off the TV.

You want to call her. Want to tell her you saw. That you know she’s hurting. That you need to fix this, somehow.

But you don’t.

Because this is the reality you chose. The distance between you isn’t just physical—it’s everything.

And you don’t know if you’ll ever find your way back.

The steady scratch of your pen fills the room, the only sound cutting through the quiet hum of your desk lamp. Homework is a distraction, but not enough. Nothing ever is.

Then, a knock.

Soft at first.

You don’t move, assuming it’s for Kim.

But then it happens again—louder this time, a sharp, insistent sound that makes your stomach twist.

And then—BANG BANG BANG.

You push back your chair, heart racing, already on edge. Before you can react, Kim beats you to the door, yanking it open.

And there she is.

Paige.

Standing unsteadily in your doorway, eyes glassy, lips parted, smelling like alcohol and heartbreak.

Kim inhales sharply, then whips her head toward you, eyes wide in disbelief. "What is she doing here?"

You can’t answer. You’re too busy staring—taking in the flushed pink of Paige’s cheeks, the way her breath hitches the second she locks eyes with you. She doesn’t look at Kim, doesn’t acknowledge her.

Just you.

"I don’t know," you murmur, voice barely above a whisper. Then, turning to Kim, you force a nod. "Can you excuse us? We need to talk for a minute."

Kim hesitates, clearly fighting the urge to question you, but something in your face—something broken—makes her step back. She nods, murmuring something about heading to her own room, leaving you alone with Paige.

The second the door clicks shut, Paige sways slightly, blinking at you like she’s trying to focus.

Your chest tightens. "Paige…"

She doesn’t say anything. Just moves.

Before you can react, she collapses into you, her arms wrapping around you in a desperate, crushing hold. You stumble slightly but catch her, breath hitching as her face buries into your neck, warm and damp.

She’s shaking.

Your hands find her back, holding her close, feeling every shaky inhale, every broken exhale. The scent of alcohol lingers on her, but beneath it, she still smells like her. Like familiarity. Like home.

Then—Paige sniffs, a choked, ragged sound against your skin. And before you can process it, her lips press to the crown of your head, a slow, lingering kiss.

"I missed you," she mumbles, voice thick with emotion.

Your heart clenches. You squeeze your eyes shut.

"I know."

She exhales shakily, pulling back just enough to look at you. Her eyes are red-rimmed, pupils blown wide. You’ve never seen her like this before—so raw, so lost.

"Why are you here, Paige?" You ask softly, brushing a strand of hair from her damp forehead.

She laughs, but it’s humorless, broken. "Because I’m stupid."

"Paige—"

"Because I fucking hate this," she interrupts, voice cracking. "I hate not talking to you. I hate pretending like it doesn’t kill me to see you from a distance. I hate—fuck, I hate that I keep choosing wrong."

You swallow hard, fingers tightening on her waist.

"You didn’t have to choose," you whisper.

Paige stares at you, eyes dark and unreadable.

Then—her gaze flickers downward.

It’s then you remember what you’re wearing—your sleepwear, something effortlessly teasing. Loose shorts, a fitted tank that clings in all the right places.

You watch Paige’s throat bob as she swallows, her grip on your waist tightening just slightly.

"Jesus Christ," she mutters under her breath.

Your skin prickles. "What?"

Paige exhales harshly, dragging a shaky hand down her face. "You can’t just look like that and expect me to be normal right now."

Your breath catches.

Her eyes burn into you—hunger, sharp and unfiltered, mixing with something more desperate, more wrecked. Her fingers twitch against your skin, like she’s fighting herself.

"Paige…" you murmur, unsure, unsteady.

She groans, tilting her head back. "I’m too drunk for this."

"For what?"

Paige leans in, pressing her forehead against yours, breath warm and ragged. "For you. For the way you make me feel. For how fucking badly I want you right now."

A shiver rolls through you.

She tilts her head slightly, her nose brushing yours, her lips so damn close you can feel the ghost of them. Your hands tighten against her back, nails digging into her shirt.

"Let me stay," she pleads, barely above a whisper. "Please. Just for tonight."

You hesitate. "Paige… What about Azzi?"

She closes her eyes briefly, like the name itself physically pains her.

Then she exhales, shaking her head. "I don’t care."

You stare at her, pulse hammering. This is dangerous. Reckless. But then she looks at you again, and all you see is her. The girl you grew up with. The girl you fell for. The girl who is unraveling right in front of you.

And so, you step back, just enough to reach for the door—turning the lock.

Then, softly, you whisper, "Stay."

Your dorm room is dimly lit, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. The air is thick with something unspoken—something fragile yet intense, like standing at the edge of something irreversible.

Paige moves first, stepping past you with an unsteady grace, making her way to your bed. She sits down, exhaling heavily, running a hand through her hair before looking up at you.

And then, without hesitation, she reaches out.

Her hands find your waist, firm yet gentle, pulling you between her legs. You stumble slightly, catching yourself with a soft inhale, feeling the warmth of her body pressing against you.

And then—she hugs you.

It’s different from before. More intentional. Her arms wrap around your waist, her head pressing against your stomach, her breath warm through the thin fabric of your sleepwear. She holds you like she’s afraid you’ll disappear.

"God, I missed you," Paige murmurs against you, her voice muffled but full of something raw. "I missed you so fucking much."

Your heart clenches.

Gently, you slide your fingers into her hair, carding through the soft strands, letting your touch soothe whatever storm is raging inside her.

"I’m here, Paige," you whisper.

She shudders. "I don’t deserve you."

"Don’t say that."

Paige pulls back just enough to look up at you. Her eyes are hazy—drunk, yes, but also full of something else. A silent plea. A question lingering between you.

You understand it before she even asks.

So you nod.

Something shifts in Paige’s gaze, something deeper. She exhales slowly, her fingers twitching against your back before they slip under your top, finding bare skin.

It’s subtle at first—small, featherlight circles traced along the dip of your spine. Her touch is warm, tingling, and even though it’s barely anything, it burns.

She keeps looking up at you, like she’s studying your every reaction. And you—you can’t look away.

Then, slowly, Paige tugs you down, guiding you onto her lap. You straddle her thighs, your hands settling on her shoulders, feeling the warmth of her body through the fabric of her hoodie.

Her breathing is uneven.

"Can I kiss you?" she asks, her voice wrecked, desperate. "Please? Before I lose my mind."

Your chest tightens. "Yes."

Paige doesn’t waste a second.

The moment her lips meet yours, it’s soft—softer than you expected. A hesitant brush, testing the waters, lingering just long enough to leave you breathless.

Then, the second taste—deeper, slower, more certain. She makes a small noise against your mouth, something between relief and regret, pulling back just slightly to rest her forehead against yours.

"Fuck," she breathes, shaking her head. "Why didn’t we do this before?"

You swallow hard. "Paige—"

"I had urges," she confesses, almost laughing, but there’s no humor in it. "Back in high school. I thought it was just because you were the only girl I was close to. That I was just being curious." She exhales shakily. "But no. No, it was always this. Always you."

Your breath hitches.

Paige tilts her head, catching your lips again, this time with more urgency. Her hands slide up your back, pressing you closer. The warmth, the taste of her—it’s intoxicating.

But then—she stops.

Paige pulls back, eyes searching yours, something shifting in them. "I can’t." Her voice is strained. "Not like this."

You blink, still breathless. "What?"

She shakes her head, fingers flexing against your sides before she gently eases you off her lap.

"Not while things are still messy," Paige says softly, regret heavy in her voice. "Not while I’m still in this thing with Azzi. I don’t want to do this to you—I don’t want to take advantage of you."

Despite the heat still pulsing through your veins, you nod. "I get it." And you do.

Paige exhales, then tugs you toward the bed. "Come here."

You hesitate only for a moment before slipping under the covers with her. She pulls you close, her arms wrapping around you, her face burying into your hair.

It’s quiet. Peaceful. Her heartbeat is steady against your back, and for the first time since you transferred, you breathe. And despite the conflict that awaits, you fall asleep to the sound of Paige’s breath against your skin.

A soft knock pulls you from the depths of sleep.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. Paige’s arm is draped over your waist, her slow, steady breathing tickling the back of your neck. Warmth still lingers between you, the weight of last night pressing down like a dream barely out of reach.

Another knock. More urgent this time.

Carefully, you pry Paige’s arm off, easing out of bed without waking her. The cold air hits your skin as you pad to the door, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

You crack it open.

Kim stands there, phone clutched in her hand, her expression tense. She doesn’t greet you. Doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, her gaze flickers over your shoulder—searching. You don’t need to turn around to know exactly who she’s looking for.

Finally, she exhales, shoving her phone in your face. "You need to see this."

Your brows furrow as you take it, your stomach already twisting with unease.

The screen lights up with an article—bold headlines, an all-too-familiar image. It’s a grainy, zoomed-in photo of you and Paige from last night. Your face is blurred, but Paige’s isn’t.

“Some girl caught getting too close to Paige Bueckers—what about Azzi Fudd?”

Below, the article spirals into speculation.

"UConn’s basketball star Paige Bueckers was seen in the dorms last night with an unknown girl in a rather intimate position. With Azzi Fudd currently away from campus for a sponsorship event, fans are questioning whether this is trouble in paradise. Who is the mystery girl? And does Paige’s late-night visit mean something more?"

The comment section is even worse.

“Wow. Azzi deserves better.”

“Whoever this girl is, she’s gonna get dragged.”

“Paige’s taste in girls really went downhill, huh?”

Your grip on the phone tightens.

"I knew it was you in the pic," Kim says, voice hushed but urgent. "Who the hell would do this?"

Suddenly, a memory flashes—Azzi’s words from the last time you saw her.

"I’ll make your life a living hell."

The realization sinks in, cold and sharp.

Then, from inside your room—Paige’s voice.

Loud. Almost shouting.

You don’t think. You just move.

Handing Kim back her phone, you spin on your heel and rush inside. Paige is sitting on the edge of your bed now, one hand gripping her phone, the other raking through her hair in frustration.

"—I don’t know who the hell took that picture, but I swear to God, twin, if I find out—"

Twin.

You realize then—she’s talking to Nika.

She listens for a second, jaw clenching, then shakes her head.

"No, I don’t care what they’re saying. This is bullshit. And Azzi’s not even—" Paige stops abruptly, her gaze snapping up. Locks onto you.

Her expression softens immediately, guilt flickering through her tired eyes.

"I gotta go, twin," she murmurs into the phone, still staring at you. "Thanks for letting me know."

She ends the call and stands, slowly making her way toward you.

"Nika kept calling me," Paige explains, voice quieter now. "She saw the article. Said it’s already trending."

You cross your arms, keeping your expression unreadable. "And?"

She exhales, rubbing the back of her neck. "And I’m so sorry. This is exactly what I didn’t want happening to you."

"It’s not your fault."

Paige studies you for a moment, like she’s waiting for cracks to show, for the weight of all this to finally drag you down.

But you won’t let it.

"I’ll fix this," she says firmly.

You shrug. "I don’t need you to."

Paige’s eyes widen slightly. "What?"

"It’s already out there," you say, keeping your voice even. "People are gonna talk. Let them."

Paige looks frustrated now, like she wants to argue. "You shouldn’t have to deal with this—"

"And neither should you, but here we are."

She falls silent, her gaze searching yours, something torn and helpless in the way she looks at you.

Then—a knock.

But not soft like Kim’s.

No.

This one is sharp. Demanding.

You already know.

Paige curses under her breath, glancing toward the door. Then, reluctantly, she moves past you to open it.

And there she is.

Azzi Fudd, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression unreadable—but her eyes?

They’re furious.

Azzi steps inside without waiting for an invitation, her presence filling the small dorm like a storm rolling in. Her eyes flicker to you for a second—sharp, assessing—but then they lock onto Paige, burning with accusation.

"What the hell, Paige?" she snaps, her voice low but edged with anger. "You really couldn’t go one night without screwing up?"

Paige exhales sharply, already on edge. "Azzi—"

"No, don’t ‘Azzi’ me," she cuts in, stepping closer, her presence suffocating. "You went straight from telling me you wanted to fix things in order to protect her, to sneaking off to her room in the middle of the night?" She throws a hand in your direction, like you’re some stain she’s disgusted to acknowledge.

Paige’s jaw clenches.

"Watch it," Paige warns, voice dropping lower.

"Oh, please." Azzi scoffs. "Everyone already knows now. Do you have any idea how bad this looks? The media’s already eating it up. And guess what? You’re mine, Paige. Not hers. So quit acting like some lovesick—"

"If I didn’t know any better," Paige interrupts, eyes narrowing, "I’d say you planned this."

The room goes silent.

You feel the weight of Paige’s words settle over everything, thick and suffocating.

Azzi stops mid-sentence, blinking once. Twice. Then—her lips curl.

And suddenly, she’s smiling.

Not a real smile.

A cruel, amused, almost triumphant one.

"And what if I did?" she murmurs.

Paige stiffens. "What?"

Azzi tilts her head, almost mockingly. "What if I did plan it?"

Your stomach twists.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Paige snaps, stepping closer, but Azzi just smirks.

"Relax, babe," Azzi says, the word dripping with sarcasm. "I just gave the people what they wanted. And guess what? They hate her now. You think you’re protecting her? Please." She glances at you with an almost pitying look. "You’re only making it worse."

Your blood runs cold.

Paige moves before you can react, stepping fully in front of you, shoulders tense, fists clenched. "You don’t get to decide that," she grits out.

Azzi takes a slow step forward, getting right in Paige’s space.

"Don’t I?" she challenges, voice soft but dangerous.

They’re staring each other down now—two storms colliding, two forces ready to break.

Then Azzi’s smirk fades, her expression hardening into something darker.

"Let’s clear this mess once and for all, shall we, babe?" she murmurs.

Paige doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. "I’m listening."

Azzi leans in just slightly, voice barely above a whisper—

"Pick a side."

[leahrintarou]

JUST IN CASE - tomura shigaraki

synopsis: you join the league and end up caring for shigaraki more than you or even he expected. warnings: mentions of blood from scratching, shigaraki dealing with his quirk, y/n being a sweetheart, and fluff. word count: 2.8k an: hello :) this was a request through my inbox so i hope you enjoy! (first time writing for shigaraki too so i hope i didn't make him too far off from how he's perceived within the fandom).

dabi brought her to the hideout like a stray cat dragging in trouble. she bounced in with a lopsided grin, hands shoved in her pockets, eyes flitting around like she was just happy to be there. her leather jacket was scuffed, her knuckles bruised, but she didn’t seem to care, humming some offbeat tune under her breath like she hadn’t just walked into a den of villains.

“she’s with me,” dabi said, lighting a cigarette like that was all the explanation needed.

shigaraki stared, fingers twitching, red eyes flicking over her like he could peel her apart layer by layer. she didn’t flinch under his gaze, just tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. most people squirmed when he looked at them too long, but she just rocked back on her heels, whistling quietly while waiting for his verdict.

“fine,” he muttered, turning away. he didn’t care who dabi dragged in as long as she pulled her weight and didn’t get in his way.

and she did pull her weight. maybe too well. she was quick and clever, a little reckless but always landing on her feet. she never complained, even when the jobs got messy, laughing off bruises and bloody knuckles like it was all part of the fun. she kept people at a distance with jokes and easy smiles, but when she thought no one was looking, her sharp edges softened. shigaraki noticed — he always noticed. the way she’d quietly patch someone up after a mission, how she’d leave stolen snacks in people’s rooms, even the way she lingered when someone looked like they needed an extra pair of hands.

she did the same thing with him, which pissed him off more than he liked to admit. she watched him. not in the way people usually did, with fear or judgment or barely hidden disgust. she watched him like she cared, her gaze lingering on his hands, the way he scratched at his skin until it bled, the way he curled in on himself when the itch got too unbearable.

it grated on his nerves, but he never told her to stop.

one night, after a job went south and the rest of the league was licking their wounds, she tossed something at him. he caught it without thinking, his fingers curling around a small plastic container.

“what’s this?” he asked, squinting at the label.

“ointment,” she said, flopping onto the couch beside him like it was her favorite spot. “for your skin.”

he stared at the container, then at her. “i don’t need charity.”

“it’s not charity. i stole it.” she smirked, stretching her legs across the coffee table like she owned the place. “it’ll help, though. after the itch burns out.”

his fingers twitched, nails scraping over scaly patches of skin along his neck. “the itch is my quirk,” he muttered. “it’s not... normal. it’s part of me.”

“i know.” she shrugged, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. “but it probably still hurts.”

he hated how easily she said that. like it was obvious. like it mattered. no one had ever cared if he hurt. even he didn’t care most of the time — it was just how things were. the constant ache, the burning, the endless scratching. it was just background noise at this point, something he’d learned to live with.

he turned the container over in his hands, rubbing his thumb along the lid. it was a plain, boring drugstore brand, the kind of thing people picked up without thinking twice. he’d passed by shelves of it before, too focused on his own misery to bother trying anything. it wouldn’t work, he told himself. why would it?

but she’d bothered. she’d stolen it — risked getting caught, getting arrested, getting dragged back to whatever hole they’d all crawled out of — for him.

and he couldn’t figure out why.

shigaraki stuffed the ointment in his pocket, scowling. “whatever,” he muttered, pushing himself off the couch and retreating to his room without another word.

he tried to ignore it. tossed the container on his nightstand and glared at it like it had personally offended him. he dug his nails into his arm, scratching until his skin split and his fingers came away bloody. the itch burned through him like wildfire, relentless and consuming, and he told himself it didn’t matter.

but then he looked at the container again.

he waited until the hideout was quiet, until he was sure everyone else was asleep. then, with shaky fingers, he unscrewed the lid and scooped out a tiny amount, rubbing it along the rawest patches of his skin.

the relief was instant, a cool, soothing sensation spreading across his arms. it didn’t erase the itch completely — nothing could — but it dulled the sharpest edges of it, made the ache a little less unbearable. he sat there for a long time, just staring at his hands, trying to understand why she’d cared enough to do this for him.

the next morning, he found her in the kitchen, poking at a half-eaten piece of toast. she raised a brow when she saw him, waiting for him to say something.

he didn’t. just lingered by the doorway, fingers twitching, unsure of what he even wanted to say.

eventually, she broke the silence. “did it help?”

he hated how hopeful she sounded. like she actually cared.

“a little,” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

she smiled, and something twisted painfully in his chest. “good.”

shigaraki didn’t thank her. he couldn’t. the words got caught in his throat, choking him, too foreign to say out loud. but later, when they were gearing up for another job, he slipped the ointment into his pocket. just in case.

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got a request in mind? send it in!

[elliespassagerprincess]

I cant stop thinking about dark desperate ex gf ellie who broke up with you for cat a few years ago but now is knee deep in love and keeps trying to manipulate your relationship with your gf (jesse and dina try to stop her but... Young love what can we do)

Knee deep - ellie williams x reader

hi anon! I really like this idea... I lowkey wanna make a part 2 to this... i hope you enjoy:)

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

requests are open, send me your thoughts:)

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, toxic behaviors, mention of infidelity (emotional), angst-heavy, complex feelings, swearing.

Summary: In which ellie wanted you back

Masterlist

Ellie Williams wasn’t supposed to come back. Not after what she did.

You’d built a life—steady, slow, whole—without her. Two years since she left you for Cat. Two years of grief, resentment, quiet rebuilding. Two years of convincing yourself that her absence was your freedom.

Now she stood outside the Tipsy Bison, a cigarette twitching between her fingers, hood up, green eyes tracking you like a mark.

“Hey,” she said when you stepped outside, your name low and husky on her tongue like a secret. “Been a while.”

Your stomach twisted. You hadn’t seen that face in two years—only through half-memories and the hollow ache of dreams you refused to admit you had. She still looked the same. Tired. Dangerous. Beautiful in a way that only hurt now.

You didn’t answer.

Ellie took a drag and blew out a slow breath. “You gonna ignore me forever?”

You wanted to. God, you wanted to.

But something about the way she said it—like she already knew you wouldn’t—cracked the surface.

“What do you want, Ellie?”

She shrugged like she didn’t already have a thousand motives stitched beneath her skin. “I just wanted to see you. Thought we could talk.”

You gave her a hard look. “After two years?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “After two years.”

Jesse didn’t believe it. Dina was pissed. Even Maria—who didn’t usually let things shake her—grew cold the moment Ellie’s name passed through your lips.

“She’s back?” Maria asked, arms crossed as she leaned against the kitchen counter, lips tight. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” you answered, which wasn’t a lie. Not really.

“She’s dangerous,” Dina added, always the realist. “Not in the ‘gonna hurt you physically’ way. In the ‘gonna pull your brain apart thread by thread’ way.”

You told yourself they were being dramatic. That you were stronger now. That Ellie couldn’t touch you anymore.

But then she started showing up.

Once at the diner where you worked—ordering coffee she never drank. Once near your cabin, claiming she “just happened to be walking by.” And once, late at night, waiting on your porch with a bottle of whiskey and a sad, slanted smile.

You didn’t let her in. Not that night.

The day she finally got to you was rainy. Thunder hung in the distance, and Cat was away on patrol. You’d been in the garden, hands dirty, hair damp, when Ellie showed up at the gate like a ghost resurrected.

“You still wear that necklace I gave you,” she said, voice soft and surprised.

You looked down. A slip of silver tucked beneath your shirt. You’d forgotten it was there. It pissed you off that she noticed. Pissed you off more that you hadn’t taken it off.

You wanted to tell her to leave, but she just kept going.

“I fucked up,” she whispered. “I thought Cat was… I don’t know. Simpler. Safer. But it was never like it was with you.”

You rolled your eyes, wiping mud on your pants. “You’re two years too late.”

“Are you happy?” she asked suddenly referring to the girl you had recently started dating.

Her name was Daisy. She was perfect, she gave you everything Ellie didn't. But you didn't love her like you loved Ellie.

No one could compare to Ellie.

The question landed like a gut punch. You weren’t expecting it. She leaned in then, crowding your space, eyes glassy and searching.

“Does she make you feel the way I did?”

You stared at her. “She doesn’t make me feel like shit. That’s the difference.”

Ellie flinched, and for a moment, you felt victorious.

But then she laughed—low, bitter. “You say that, but you’re not pushing me away.”

You did, then. Shoved her back with dirt-caked fingers and slammed the gate shut.

The problem was—Ellie didn’t stop.

She started leaving things. A drawing of you from memory, folded neatly in your mailbox. A song on a tape labeled "for the nights you still think of me." A note under your door that said, “She doesn’t know you like I do. She never will.”

You told yourself you hated it. You told yourself it was manipulation. You weren’t wrong. But you also didn’t tell Daisy.

The tension grew like a weed.

Daisy sensed it. Of course she did. She wasn’t stupid.

“You’ve been weird lately,” she said one night, her voice clipped. “Distant.”

You looked down at your hands. “Just tired.”

“You’re not still hung up on her, are you?”

Silence.

“Jesus,” Daisy muttered. “You are.”

“It’s not like that,” you insisted, even though it was exactly like that. Ellie was a wound that never fully healed. Just scarred over enough to convince you it had.

Daisy stood up, disgusted. “She left you. She replaced you. And now she comes back and suddenly you’re forgetting everything we’ve built?”

You didn’t answer.

Because Ellie had taken up space in your mind again. And you were letting her.

The night it all boiled over, the power had gone out.

A storm swept through Jackson and left the town flickering in candlelight. You were alone in your cabin when a knock hit your door. Slow. Measured.

You knew it was her.

Ellie didn’t wait to be invited. She stepped in, soaked to the bone, hair plastered to her forehead, and eyes wild with something between hope and desperation.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she whispered. “Every time I close my eyes, it’s you. It’s always been you.”

You backed away, heart hammering. “You left me.”

“I know,” she said, voice breaking. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to love you the right way.”

“And now you do?”

She walked closer. “Now I’d rather fuck it up trying than live without you.”

You hated how your knees weakened. Hated how she knew just what to say.

“This is wrong,” you said.

“But it feels right,” she countered, and then she kissed you.

It was lightning in the bloodstream. Familiar. Addictive. Toxic.

And you kissed her back. Only for a moment.

Then you shoved her away. “I can’t do this.”

Ellie’s expression shattered. “You still love me.”

You hesitated. Then: “That’s not the point.”

The next day, you told Daisy everything.

It ended in shouting. Slamming doors. Tears. She left. Said she needed time.

And you stood in the wreckage, heart hollow, stomach twisted with guilt and something uglier: relief.

Ellie showed up that night. Like she knew.

“I heard,” she said, leaning against your porch railing. “You told her.”

You didn’t reply.

Ellie smiled, and it wasn’t kind. It was something darker. Hungrier.

“Guess it’s just us now.”

[sunghoonnsupremacy]

ONLY IF YOU SAY YES. - bff!nishimura riki x reader

summary : riki's always wanted to make out with you, or maybe he just wants to makeout with everyone. after becomimg tipsy at a party, you quickly give in to his desires.

a/n : happy 1year to my blog!! to all my viewers&followers, enjoy this quick riki drabble. love you all, mwa mwa. also- didn't mean for this to get so long.

genre : fluff

warnings : making out, a lil blood, whore calling

wordcount : 970

you somehow ended up at one of the typical frat parties of your college. the host, aka jake sim, was lying on the couch with heeseung and sunghoon next to him, drinking their beers.

they notice you and give you a lazy smirk, jake gettong up to greet you. "hey pretty. where's your escort?" you smile at him, sighing.

"no escort tonight. just waiting for riki to meet up with me." he gives you a sloppy nod, pointing to the kitchen. "think i saw him in there with eun-yoo, pretty. not sure if you wanna interrupt them."

you roll your eyes, knowing what he's indicating. "it's fine, thanks jake. see you around." you walk to the kitchen after smiling at the trio, saying your goodbyes to them quickly.

your e/c eyes look around the messy and crowded kitchen, looking for your best friend, only to spot him making out with the said eun-yoo against the fridge.

sighing in annoyance, you grab a drink, pouring some vodka and mixer into a cup and sipping it before walking up to the pair. "hey eun-yoo, riki. busy?" the two of them break apart, slightly panting. riki smirks at you, pulling away from her fully as she just waves at you quietly.

"you made it. thought you got lost again." he hugs you, pulling you in by your waist and letting his hands rest on your hips before pulling away.

"don't be a dickhead. i only got lost once." rolling your eyes, you smack his chest and cross your arms. "are you gonna hangout with me or do you need some more kissing in your system to properly function?" riki groans at you, muttering a goodbye to eun-yoo and dragging you away as you sip your drink.

you two arrive upstairs, most likely in jake's room. "the hell are we doing here? you got games on your phone?" snickering to yourself, you sit down on riki's lap as he sits down on the bed.

"no games on my phone, y/n. just exhausted." he lays his head on your shoulder, watching you swirl your drink around in the red plastic cup. after a moment of silence, you speak up.

"you know you can't just kiss every girl you feel like kissing, right? you're gonna end up hurting someone, or yourself." he sighs, rubbing his face into your neck from behind.

"they know im not looking for anything serious, plus who cares if i kiss every girl i land my eyes on?"you finish your drink and lean against him to relax. "i know i know.. it's just the principal of the whole situation."

riki rolls his eyes, annoyed at your nice personality. "hey.. why don't you wanna makeout with me?" he looks at you, expecting an answer. "cause im your best friend and god knows where your mouth has been. your lips probably have an std from the amount of lips they kissed."

he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you close. "you're a real pain in the ass, yk that? im a great kisser- and i know you've never made out with someone before."

he feels you tense up at his words, so he tightens his grip around you. "are you that much of a manwhore that you'd ask your bestfriend to make out with you?" you slightly turn your head to meet his gaze, his eyes boring into yours.

"maybe. is that a yes?" he smirks, tracing patterns with his thumb on your waist. "what would i get out of it? a cold sore? seeing how jake reacts to them, i'd rather not." riki rolls his eyes, scoffing.

"just say yes. it's not that deep, it's just kissing." you sigh dramatically, but agree. "fine, ill make out with you. only cause.. uh.." he snickers, tapping your thighs so you get off his lap. "cat got your tongue? 'ts all in good fun, doll."

you raise your eyebrow at the petname. "doll? which number doll am i?" he smirks, pushing you against the wall. "number 73." playfully pouting, you look up at him. "what a ugly number. id rather be something pretty, like 95."

he rolls his eyes, leaning down to kiss you softly. you kiss him back, placing your hands on his cheeks to tug him closer. his hands find your waist, keeping you close to him. his lips attack yours hungrily, begging for more.

"mm-" you let out a surprised whimper when his teeth bite down on your lip, shutting your eyes closed as you feel blood slightly come out. riki keeps making out with you, licking the blood of your lips, only to shove his tongue into your mouth.

you gotta admit, he is good at making out. no wonder every girl wants to kiss him.

your lips collide again and again until you pull away, needy to breathe. he snickers, finding your lack of oxygen amusing.

"so? how you liking my lips, doll?" ".. do you use lipbalm?" your question catches him off guard, his expression faltering. "sometimes, why? you like it? cherry flavoured."

you tug him closer, a smirk on your face for the first time tonight. "can't tell, let me have a taste again?" he gladly obligates, kissing you passionately and pressing you against the wall.

after spending the next 20 minutes making out, you both decide that's enough. walking back down stairs to the loud party like nothing happened, making sure to cover up the hickeys on your collar bones as you make your way back to jake, heeseung and sunghoon, riki finding his own friends.

jake looks up at you with hooded eyes and a lazy smile, obviously more drunk than when you last saw him an hour ago. "hey pretty. where were you?" sitting yourself down between hee and jake, you smile.

"eating some cherries."

[chariaki]

The classic meet cute!

Kento Nanami x reader

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

Kento Nanami's first time meeting you was when he went to his usual park, only to find it crowded, but in the midst of it all, he saw you, lovely under the sun's shine.

He had grown accustomed to spending his weekends in quiet solitude, usually nestled in a corner of the park, away from the chaos of the world. But today was different—today, the park was brimming with life, filled with kids running around, families having picnics, and pets playfully darting between the crowds. Apparently, there was a school event going on.

His eyes scanned the scene, but they paused when they landed on you. There you were, sitting in a beautiful sundress, your attention completely absorbed by a cat you were delightfully feeding. He couldn’t help but watch you for a moment— it's as if you sat in perfect placement under the sun's warm light—but the moment was short-lived.

The feline, a curious one, suddenly saw him and, before he could react, wrapped her tail around his leg.

Kento Nanami who froze, didn't know what to feel. It was a mix of emotions, the weird warm feeling from the cat on his leg—or was it because of you who sat sunkissed, and is now looking straight at him!?

Did he have something on his face? Or worse, a stain on his shirt from the sandwich he had just eaten?

You looked at him, and for a moment, as cliché as he disliked it to say, he felt like the world went in slow motion.

Kento Nanami whose heart skipped. Why were you staring at him for so long? He awkwardly looked down at his shirt and wiped his hands as if to check if there was something wrong with him.

"Hello!" he blurted, the pitch of his voice higher than usual.

Ugh, that was smooth.

You smiled, a soft gleam in your eyes. "Hi!"

You returned the same energy, easy and light.

Kento Nanami whose face flushed in embarrassment, and he turned away in a hasty retreat, hoping his awkwardness wouldn’t be the highlight of your day.

But as he turned, the universe had other plans.

The cat, apparently struck by Kento’s exit, decided your jacket was far more interesting than the crumbs you had been feeding her. She dragged it across the concrete floor, claws and teeth tugging at the fabric.

Kento didn’t even think. Before you could react, he was already moving—his body moved faster than his thoughts.

Perhaps it was the instinct to protect his peace. Perhaps it was the nagging thought that you’d be annoyed if your jacket got damaged...or perhaps it was simply because you were beautiful, and he wanted to see you smile at him again, and maybe... even talk to you.

"Hey—wait!" he called out, chasing after the cat with a surprising burst of speed, looking a little... ridiculous. He reached down and snatched your jacket from the cat’s persistent teeth.

With a little tug, Kento managed to get your jacket back—but it was slightly torn from the feline’s chewing.

He cleared his throat, trying to act cool. "Please excuse me about that... um, the jacket, I mean. I—"

"You’re not really a cat person, are you?" you said, laughing lightly.

"It seems so..," He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "But... I would like to make it up to you. Let me buy you a new one?"

You paused for a second, then grinned. "Well, if you insist, I guess I could lend you my time, and let you treat me to a new jacket."

And just like that!

Kento Nanami found himself wanting to spend the rest of his afternoon with you, helping pick out jackets at a nearby store. He didn't expected to enjoy himself, but he did. You were easy to talk to, and the more time he spent with you, the more his heart felt lighter.

By the end of the day, he found himself walking home with his thoughts occupied by you.

He reached into his pocket and found a pink note folded inside. Unfolding it, he smiled when he saw your number written on it, with a little happy face.

(ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

The universe, it seemed, had a funny way of making him step out his shell and see more of the world—and for once, he wasn’t complaining.

[moshuka]

blush- e. engstler

!! - wc 763, sfw, aaliyah #1 wingman

!! - req- Do a Emily Engstler falls in love with reader 😊 & can you do an imagine of Emily meeting reader through a mutual friend and she is like instantly in love with the reader. I don’t have much of a story line for you I’m just starved for Emily content.

The first time you saw Emily, you knew you had to have her.

You met through a mutual friend, Aaliyah. She had gone to college with an ex-situationship of yours, Azzi. (You cut things off after learning she was madly in love with her teammate, Paige.)

Aaliyah had invited you to try out a new cafe with her and her new teammate, Emily. You accepted the invite after spending ten minutes stalking Emily’s socials.

Now, as you stand in front of the door, your hands become sweaty with anticipation. You mutter a quick prayer before pushing the door open, flinching at the bell that rings.

You breathe in the sweet aroma of the cafe, smiling to yourself before landing eyes on your friend. Aaliyah grins at you, and that’s when you see her.

Emily sits across from Aaliyah in the booth, ter two signature braids behind her back and her legs slightly spread.

You approach the table and force yourself to tear your gaze away from her lap and up to her face.

“Hi, I’m—“ You start, sitting beside Aaliyah.

“This is my friend. The one I told you about.” Aaliyah smiles tightly, staring daggers at Emily.

“Uh, yeah.” You say awkwardly, looking down at your lap. You look back up at the sound of a raspy voice going, “Hi, I’m Emily.”

You look up to see her hand outstretched, and quickly shake it. She clears her throat, and you blush. Did she feel how sweaty my hands are? Is she disgusted now?

———————————————ʚɞ———————————————

Emily knows she’s done for.

The rookie on the team, Aaliyah, catches a ride home with her. On the way, they pass a cafe with a “Now Open” sign. Aaliyah gasps, exclaiming, “oh my gosh, my friend wanted to try that place out!”

Emily, not thinking, says, “You want me to give you a ride?”

Aaliyah grins. “What, you think you’re not invited?”

That lead Emily to where she is now. Laying on her bed, her face illuminated by the glow of her phone, she smiles to herself. She’s spent the past five minutes spamming Aaliyah’s messages asking for your instagram, and her teammate finally let up.

Emily grins, pasting your username in the search bar. She clicks on your account and cheers to herself when she sees your snapchat is in your bio.

Fifteen minutes later she falls asleep with a smile on her face.

The next morning, Aaliyah is texting her at the break of dawn with confirmation that you’re meeting them at the cafe.

On the drive there, Emily drums her fingers nervously on the center console. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous— she’s met pretty girls before.

Emily sits across from Aaliyah in hopes that you’ll either sit across from her so she can try to find out what your eye color is, or even better, next to her.

She hears the bell ringing, signaling the arrival of a new customer, and it takes all of her energy to not whip her head around to stare at you.

Her shoulders slump when you sit across from her and not next to her, but her eyes quickly light up as Aaliyah introduces you. She ignores the warning look in her friend’s eyes, instead putting her hand out.

“Hi, I’m Emily.”

She clears her throat, hoping to get rid of the rasp in her voice in case you get disgusted.

Aaliyah rolls her eyes, and the tree of you get up to order your drinks. You step back to let Emily order next, but end up stepping on her foot and tripping.

You expect to fall flat on your face, embarrassing yourself for good, but Emily places her hands on your waist, saying politely, “I’ll have what she’s having.”

When you get back to the table, you sit next to her.

———————————————ʚɞ———————————————

You walk back to your apartment with a grin on your face, giving your cat an extra scoop of food and almost skipping to your bedroom.

You plug in your now dead phone, going into your closet to change into more comfortable clothes. When you finally lay down, you grab your phone, checking all your missed notifications.

> (INSTAGRAM) EM_ENGSTLER FOLLOWED YOU !

> (INSTAGRAM) EM_ENGSTLER HAS LIKED YOUR POST !

> (SNAPCHAT) EM_ENGSTLER HAS SENT YOU A FRIEND REQUEST !

> (MESSAGES) ########## HAS SENT YOU A MESSAGE !

———————————————ʚɞ———————————————

do we want a part 2?

[saltsongwc]

This was inspired by THIS ask I got about Tiger and his dynamic's, which I'll make more of later

And a little writting to acompany the art under the read more

The moss was starting to grow back, snow melting and allowing the new herbs and plants to finally reclaim the soil of new leaf, Tigerclaw didn't enjoy this step in the changing of Leaf-Bare to Newleaf, mostly because it made walking uncomfortable, with the wet snow clinging to his paws and fur.

It gave him an excuse to stay in his den when the storages were full, which he appreciated, the other excuse was the nursery duties that he'd rather perform instead of the apprentices, just to walk between his den and a cozier one.

Right now, there were only two cats sharing the nursery, Frostfur was sleeping the furthest away, her tail curled around her as she sleeped peacefully, 'Any day now' he reminded himself, he was getting the storages ready and extra moss to welcome the new clan members, he chuckles a bit under his breath, Lionheart would stand pacing around camp whenever not on patrol.

His eyes landed on the second shape, the golden molly whose fluffy tail was twitching up and down, Goldenflower had been the only queen through Leaf Bare, and her only company before Frostfur was the tiny kit currently entertained with her tail. Her eyes shifted away from the kit for a moment and gave him a purr in greeting, which he returned, pacing around her landed him right on the kit's field of vision.

"Tiger! Tiger!" the black and white tom used his mother's tail as support, staring at the larger tabby with glee "Can we play? Can we please?"

He sighed in faked dissapoitment, dropping the moss by Goldenflower's bed and shaking his head "It's sunset Swiftkit, how about tomorrow?"

The promise is enough to stop any dissapointment from the kit, who just exclaims "At dawn! Okay!" and curls around his mother's belly, knowing sleep just makes the sun come faster.

Tigerfoot smiles, staring at the small cat while he sits down, before his gaze returns back to the mother.

"...Stop smirking like that"

Goldenflower chuckles and shakes her head "You know, I think you'd be an excellent father Tigerfoot"

"Ha! Imagine a kit with my face" his ear flicks "I bring you moss and that's how you repay me? Mockery? Shame Golden, I thought better of you"

"If you claim to be friend you should expect this from me"

Her gaze returned to the small kit, now snowing peacefully and pawing the air, dreams already claiming his eyes, Tigerfoot caught however, the worried expression in her eyes.

"Mouse for your thoughts?" He asks, lying beside her in comfort while staring at the kit as well. Goldenflower hummed, licking Swiftkit's head gently.

"He's so... small"

The words echoed back to her first time seeing Swiftkit, and his sister before she passed, they had been so lucky Tigerfoot recalls, an especially harsh storm, he spent the night protectively standing guard by the nursery entrance, afraid anything would lurk inside and take the kits... It took one.

"...He's smaller than the average" two moons old, the kit didn't look more than one.

Some nights, he thinks of his apprentice days, some days, he's afraid whenever the kit rushes to him and plays with his tail or jumps on his back, it terrifies him.

"He takes it after his father"

Goldenflower had never confided in Tigerfoot who Swiftkit's father might be, while the whispers and gossips from the clan was Patchpelt (and the now elder had never disputed those claims), he was unsure, now, the fear at night is present, the ghost of someone guarding the fragile kit resting by his friend's belly is less paranoia, an active protector, a scourge from his past.

He should seek the cat, the black shape, but tomorrow he promised Swiftkit he would play with him at dawn, and tonight he wants to guard the den, to make sure the last of Leaf Bare's winds do not take the only kit as well.

[disneyprincemuke]

forever wouldn't wait for us * fem!driver

logan's moving out

pairings: 4lyfers x fem!driver

notes: hi please give this attention im not even kidding how difficult it was to write this like i'm actually kinda sad

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

liam scowls, throwing his head back. he points his hand towards logan, sat on the couch, fiddling with a rubix cube he’d found underneath the couch. “you’re not even helping!”

“i didn’t know kidnapper took my rubix cube,” logan mutters.

the girl passes him, walking between the couch and the coffee table, snatching away the rubix cube from his hands. “you don’t even know how to play with a rubix cube,” she mutters, “and this is mine.”

logan huffs, rolling his eyes and throws his arms into the air. “you never let me have anything.”

she furrows her eyebrows. “you moved into my furnished apartment at the start of last year.”

“there’s gotta be something in the living room that’s mine,” logan frowns, looking around for something to take with him.

“what time are we drinking?” oscar throws his head back, looking over from the dining table. on the table is a set of uno cards messily strewn in different directions. on his right is lily and to his left is ylona with a small grin. “you guys are taking too long.”

“we wouldn’t be taking so long if everyone helped like they promised,” she huffs underneath her breath with a small eye roll. “anyway, logan’s still trying out being a thief right in front of my eyes.”

“babe,” ylona snorts, “don’t steal from rocky.”

mick walks out of logan’s room, a box of neatly folded clothes inside. he drops it right by the kitchen where the rest of logan’s boxes rest, stacked above one another. “logan loves stealing from rocky.”

“i do not!” logan defends himself. “wait, whatever. i’m just saying — there has to be something that’s mine in the living room. there’s no way that i was leeching off rocky the entire year and a half we stayed together.”

“you probably have more things in her parents’ home rather than here,” oscar points out, playing a card on the table. “hurry it up. i’m hungry and thirsty.”

she hadn’t expected logan to move out so soon. while she knew that living with logan for the rest of her life isn’t a viable arrangement, she hadn’t expected him to decide to pack up and live with his girlfriend while being together for less than a year.

he had told her about a month ago, at the start of september that he’d be moving in with ylona. not too far away, just an apartment down the road. but it still feels like a part’s of her being torn from her — the same way she felt when oscar had moved out of her parents’ when he landed a reserve driver spot with alpine.

she didn’t expect the 3 of them to live together for the rest of time, but it’s just weird to spend growing up every single day with them for years to end up barely talking sometimes outside of race weekends.

“rocky, what do you think?”

she maintains her blank stare on kidnapper, sleeping under the coffee table with a hum. “think of what?”

“let’s head out for dinner as a quick pick-me-up,” mick grins slightly, “and then we drop by the store to get drinks then we continue packing. when we’re done with that, we drink! how’s that sound?”

she lifts her head with a small grin. “yeah, absolutely.”

the uneasy feeling in her chest never leaves the entire evening. from the moment they’d all spilled out of the apartment to grab dinner, asking each other where they should eat to the moment they were stumbling back in to pack what’s left of logan’s clothes.

she sits in the living room now in silence, playing with kidnapper with one of the toys she’d gotten him in a dim corner. everyone else is in logan’s room, helping fold and pack what mick hadn’t gotten in boxes earlier.

“hey, are you okay? you’ve been here since we came home from dinner.” she glances over her shoulder, a small grin spreading her lips at the man now taking a seat next to her on the ground by the cat tree. “i’m surprised you haven’t started crying yet. remember when i moved out of your parents’?”

she throws her head back with a soft groan and an eye roll. “that seems like forever ago.”

“it was,” oscar laughs, leaning back against the wall as kidnapper curiously climbs on his lap. “how do you feel now that you’ll be living alone?”

“not sure,” she shrugs, dropping her head with a soft chuckle. “i like living with logan, you know? everyday was a party.”

“living by yourself can still be party, you know,” he points out and rests his head on the wall behind him. “you knew we weren’t going to be around forever.”

she presses her lips together as she tries to navigate the lines in her head and pinpoint why she’s always so upset when either of them move out. perhaps she feels left behind once more?

sure, that lingering feeling of jealousy arose occasionally when they were younger, always progressing with their racing careers without her at times. but there’s no reason to feel this way at 21 when they’re all at the same stages of life.

“i mean… before logan asked if he could move in with me, i was prepared to be live by myself. but you know,” she trails off as she lifts her head with trembling lips. “that was a year and a half ago.”

“aw, mate,” oscar coos, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on her knee. “i know he sprung this on you a little too soon. but you’ll be fine, you know?”

“i know,” she grins, craning her neck back to sigh at oscar. “i’m going to let him take stubby with him. i know the bond they’ve formed, you know? i’m going to miss that dog.”

“you know you don’t have to. you adopted stubby.”

“just seems cruel to keep stubby when he very clearly prefers logan over me.” she takes a deep breath and exhales shakily. “we should help them out so we can drink with them, right?”

oscar glances down at the black cat that’s settled in his lap. “i can’t get up — kidnapper’s on my lap. it’s your turn now.”

she rolls her eyes but still slowly gets up from her spot. “i will be back for my cat, oscar piastri.”

“i know it was sudden when i told you i was planning to move out,” logan mutters, lifting his head to look at the girl in the single seater couch across the room. “i’m sorry.”

the girl looks up from her phone, her screen illuminating her face with a small grin and flushed cheeks from the drinks they’d consumed. the empty glass bottles riddle the floor of their — no, her — living room. “we can’t be roommates forever. it’s okay.”

around them are liam and mick, passed out in their individual spots with pillows and blankets strewn over their bodies. oscar and lily are coddled up in her bed and logan’s got ylona’s head in his lap as she lies on the couch with stubby in her arms.

“i’m sorry i didn’t even ask you what you thought about it at first,” he admits. “you let me move into your apartment then i just spring my decision to move out 3 weeks ahead of time. i’m sorry, rocky.”

“it’s okay, really. like–”

“dude.” the firmness in her voice makes her drop her phone into her stomach. she sits upright with a small grin on her face and a heavy sigh. “i’m sorry. 2024 hasn’t been great for our friendship.”

she laughs softly, dropping her back against her seat. “are you talking about the crash? that was months ago, mate. i totally overreacted. so much for ‘whatever happens on the track, stays on the track’. i’m sorry.”

but meeting his eyes across the room, her smile fades when she notices that he’s not smiling or giggling along with her. “you know what i’m apologising for.”

tears flood her eyes and she forces herself to look away to wipe them away. “mate. it’s been 9 months.”

“stop brushing it off,” logan whispers, shaking his head. “i’m sorry, okay? you’re still my best friend — you know that, right? nothing’s changing. i’m just 2 blocks down the road; call me if you need me.”

she smiles, hanging her head as she turns to look at him. “likewise. take stubby with you, by the way. he seems to be very fond of you and ylona, anyway.”

“what? no, that’s crazy. stubby is your dog.”

she shakes her head and holds a hand up to stop him from talking. and she knows that he knows what that means — there’s nothing he can say to change her mind. “take him. he’ll be happier with you guys.”

logan’s stare lingers on her, smiling back before she picks up her phone from her stomach. “you should bring ylona to your bed. the couch is uncomfortable, mate.”

logan grins. “okay. do you want to share the bed with her? i know oscar and lily’s fallen asleep in yours. i can sleep out here if you want.”

she shakes her head, following his gaze as he carefully manoeuvres ylona to guide her back to his room. “i’ll be okay. you don’t have to look out for me so much anymore, mate. i’m a big girl.”

“everything’s in the car,” oscar calls out from down the hall, popping his head from the corner that leads to their life lobby. “need a minute?”

“i’ll be down in a second,” logan answers, looking over his shoulder as oscar nods firmly and disappears into the corner. he lets out a shaky breath before he turns back to the small girl standing by the door, handle in her hands as she leans against the door frame. “i’m going to miss living with you.”

she smiles, another tear falling right out of her eye. “i’m going to miss you too. it’s okay that we’re like this, right? we’ve lived together for almost a decade — it’s weird not waking up to your breakfast.”

“don’t skip breakfast, okay?” he presses his lips together. “take care of yourself, dude.”

she laughs her sob out, more tears starting to roll down her cheeks. she sighs, palms over her face as she shies her emotions away. “this is so stupid. i’m literally coming over to help you move in in an hour. i just need to take a shower and feed kidnapper some breakfast.”

logan snorts, throwing his head back, tears slowly leaving his eyes. “10 years is a long time to be living together. we’re still best friends even if we’re not living together. we’ve made it work with oscar, haven’t we?”

“obviously,” she mutters. “i’ll see you later, okay?”

“okay,” logan grins. he leans down, wrapping both arms around her smaller frame and tightens his grip. “i’m sorry again for how things turned out. you’ll always be my best friend, you know that, right?”

she stumbles into him, tiptoeing as she tries to keep her feet on the ground as he squeezes her and lifts her off the ground slightly. “i know. you’ll always be my bestest friend in the entire world, lo. forever wasn’t going to wait for us.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-pie-girl @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[ageingfangirl2]

Why Are You So Cute? Chifuyu Matsuno (Tokyo Revengers)

While waiting for Takemichi, Chifuyu pops into a manga and cat cafe to wait. When he stumbles upon a cute girl and has a meet-cute. He just doesn't expect the plot twist at the end! Chifuyu x F Reader

Chifuyu tugged his jacket tighter around himself as he stepped into the cosy little manga and cat café, shaking off the chill from outside. He was supposed to meet Takemichi later, but he was early, and honestly, killing time surrounded by manga and cats sounded like heaven.

He wandered between the rows of books, fingers grazing colorful spines, until a quiet sound caught his attention — a soft laugh.

Near the corner window, a girl was sitting cross-legged on one of the plush couches, a stack of manga beside her and a tiny, dozing cat on her lap. She was absorbed in a volume of "Nyanko Days," smiling so sweetly that Chifuyu found himself pausing mid-step, like an idiot.

Cute.

He realised he was staring and quickly pretended to examine the shelf next to him, but then the girl noticed him anyway.

For a second, neither of them said anything. Chifuyu froze like a kid caught doing something wrong. You blinked at him, wide-eyed...then smiled shyly.

'You can sit, you know,' you say, your voice soft, 'There's a whole couch.'

Chifuyu rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly way too aware of how awkward he must look, 'Uh... right. Sorry. I’m not, uh, creeping or anything.'

Your smile widened, and you shifted your books to make room, 'It’s a manga café. Everyone creeps a little.'

He laughed — a quick, nervous sound — and finally sat down, keeping a careful distance between them.

The cat, disturbed by the movement, lifted its head and meowed.

'Oh, sorry, Yumi,' you murmur, scratching behind its ears.

'You know the cat’s name?' Chifuyu asked, surprised.

'I come here a lot,' you say, cheeks tinting pink, 'I guess I read more manga than a normal person should.'

Chifuyu grinned, some of his nerves slipping away, 'There's no such thing as too much manga.'

That got you to laugh — a light, musical sound that made his chest feel weirdly light.

You leaned over slightly, lowering your voice like you were sharing a secret, 'If you like cats and fighting manga, I’ve got a recommendation that'll change your life.'

Chifuyu's heart did an awkward little skip at the way she smiled.

He cleared his throat, pretending to think very seriously, 'That’s a bold claim. I might need proof.'

You grin and hand him a volume from your stack without hesitation, 'Challenge accepted.'

The two quickly fell into conversation — comparing favorite series, arguing over the best "bad boy with a soft heart" character types, and sharing funny cat stories. Chifuyu didn’t even notice the time slipping by. He just knew this was the most fun he'd had with a stranger in forever.

Just as he was starting to wonder if maybe, just maybe, he should ask for your number, his phone buzzed.

Takemitchy: I'm here! You inside?

'Ah, crap,' Chifuyu muttered, standing up, 'I'm supposed to meet a friend. Guess I lost track of time.'

'Me too!' you say, smiling as you scoop up the now-sleepy cat, 'my brother's picking me up. He can be overprotective at times.'

You walk toward the entrance together, and right then, Takemichi bursts through the door.

'Yo, Chifuyu! Sorry, I'm late!' Then his eyes landed on the girl, 'Oi, there you are! I've been texting you!'

Chifuyu blinked in confusion, looking between them.

Takemichi grinned and ruffled your hair, 'What, did you get distracted by manga again? Chifuyu, this is my little sister.'

You stick your tongue out at your brother, 'You’re one to talk.'

Chifuyu’s jaw practically hit the floor, 'Your sister?!'

You look up at him with a mischievous sparkle in your eye and say, 'Nice meeting you, Chifuyu.'

Meanwhile, Chifuyu stood frozen, torn between horrified realisation and dumb, immediate affection. He was so screwed.

Meanwhile, you just smiled sweetly at him, totally calm, like you hadn't just flipped his world upside down.

Before he could recover enough to say something smart, you shifted Yumi the cat into Takemichi's arms, much to his horror, and turned back to Chifuyu, pulling your phone from your pocket.

'Here,' you say brightly, tapping on his arm, 'Give me your phone for a sec?'

'Uh—' Chifuyu fumbled like a fool, yanking it from his jacket and nearly dropping it, 'Y-Yeah, sure!'

You giggle under your breath but politely take it, typing quickly.

You hand it back. On the screen, a new contact was saved: Takemichi’s Sister (Manga Buddy!) Below it, you had written: Text me those manga recommendations, okay?

Chifuyu stared at the screen, feeling like he might just melt into the floor.

'I’ll be waiting,' you tease, adjusting the strap of your bag.

Then, with no warning, she throws her arms around Takemichi in a quick, tight hug, 'Thanks for picking me up, big bro,' you say warmly.

Takemichi laughed and patted your head, 'Yeah, yeah. You owe me dinner.'

You pull back and smile at Chifuyu one last time, 'It was really nice finally meeting you. See you around!'

With a little wave, you turn and head toward the exit, leaving Chifuyu standing there, holding his phone like it was something sacred.

Takemichi watched you go, then slowly turned back to Chifuyu...with the most evil smirk Chifuyu had ever seen on his face.

'You okay there, buddy?' Takemichi said, elbowing him.

Chifuyu’s mouth opened — closed — opened again, 'That’s your sister?! You never said you had a sister!'

'You never asked,' Takemichi said way too casually, then leaned in, dropping his voice, 'And just so you know, if you even think about making a move on her—'

'I’m not!' Chifuyu blurted immediately, face burning.

Takemichi grinned even wider, 'Good. Because I’d have to kill you.'

Chifuyu nodded way too fast, 'Yup. Got it. Totally professional. Nothing’s happening. Nope. Manga recommendations only!'

Takemichi laughed as he slung an arm around Chifuyu’s shoulders and started dragging him out of the café.

Chifuyu glanced down at his phone, heart thudding as he saw your name again. He couldn’t help the little smile that crept onto his face.

He was absolutely screwed.

[paulyenvol6]

Devotion (Part 2)

Based on this request

Daemon x Rhaenyra x wife!reader

Thank you for this amazing request and feel free to send me whatever you would like me to write :)

Contains: detailed smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, touching, kissing, dirty talk, praising, possessiveness, breast play, soft dom!Daemon, angst, fighting

Wordcount: ~4.97k

Masterlist

You walked down the streets feeling much lighter and relieved.

You had just done something incredibly helpful to the crown and not only did it make you happy because Rhaenyra now had the city watch but also because you hoped it would calm your wife's and husband's anger at you because of your spontaneous travels.

You still had your hood covering your face as you passed the lowborn folk of King's Landing. The people here probably didn't know your face. You were a pentoshi princess, a foreign girl that didn't have the striking silver hair as the Targaryens did and yet you feared that someone might recognize you for the queen's wife. You couldn't be careful enough because you planned on coming back to Dragonstone alive.

When you saw a busy tavern with people entering and leaving every second you decided to go in as well. It was never wrong to hear about the common people's opinions and how much support Rhaenyra had among them. So you sat on a table alone, ordered a beer while listening with pricked ears to the conversation around you. It was mostly drunk talk, middle aged men raving about themselves and their great achievements but now and then you heard snippets of people complaining about food shortage and how expensive a plain loaf of bread had gotten.

And soon you had a clear picture of the situation: The people of King's Landing were not satisfied with their ruler but at the same time had bigger problems than caring who sat the iron throne. It didn't matter who it was raising the prices, they just wanted things to be the way they were when Viserys had been king. An easy life with enough food to feed their families and preferably a peaceful life as well. It was now for Rhaenyra to get the common people's favor but that wasn't your business now.

It had gotten late so you paid for your beverage and left the tavern, careful not to let anyone take a closer look at your face. You felt like you had done a pretty good job but were still happy when you were inside the deserted house again. The voices and the music were muffled now as you carefully sneaked through the dark to find an old bed which was riddled with holes that probably came from rats and moths. But you had sleeped in worse places so you crawled on the bed and covered yourself with the thin blanket. It took you a while to fall asleep in this unfamiliar place in the adrenaline in your blood stopped your mind from fading away but after a while your tiredness won and darkness coated your thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next two days you spent sneaking around in the city and trying to get to know as much about the circumstances and reality in the capital. You met again with Djaren to discuss the further procedure and also managed to gather information about detailed numbers of the Green's forces and men-at-arms which would be helpful for the war.

And then it was two days later and as you had promised you found yourself in the ominous basement again, searching for Mysaria in the darkness. All your senses were sharpened and quiet as a cat you moved through the darkness. 'Where was she?' you thought but then heard a noise next to you. You turned around expecting to see her brown eyes but those were flashing blue ones you met with. You shrieked and stumbled backwards and only just managed to escape the knight's hand that had threatened to wrap around your arm. You felt panic creeping up on you and just ran as quickly as you could.

"Stop, filthy bitch," you heard a soldier scream but didn't turn around once while you ran through the passage Mysaria and you had used when you had come here two nights ago.

You didn't even know how many knights were there and because of your pregnancy you felt that you couldn't run as fast as usually. Tears welled in your eyes as you hasted through the corridors, so quickly as if your life depended on it.

The knights came closer and closer but then you suddenly spotted the white worm in front of you who walked towards you but stopped when she saw that you were being chased. Her eyes flashed and her expression got cold and then Mysaria quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you with her as the two of you ran. It was your luck that the woman knew her way around here in the secret passaged beneath the city because suddenly, just after you had ran around a corner Mysaria roughly pulled you with her to the side.

For a second you felt wetness soaking your body but then it was silent except for what sounded like rain. You couldn't even process where you were because there was only darkness around you but when you heard the steps of the soldiers walking past you, you exhaled loudly, your whole body shivering. Only slowly did your heartbeat calm and once everything was completely silent again you looked around to see where you were. It was sort of like a little cave but the curiousity was that a small waterfall separated it from the passage. In awe you watched the water streaming down and only then noticed how cold you were.

Mysaria sighed deeply.

"Not the way I had planned it. Did they know it was you?"

You shrugged. "I don't know."

Then you turned around glaring at her with big eyes.

"Will they find the boat now? If yes we will have to find a new one."

But the white worm shook her head.

"Don't worry, princess. It is well hidden. Did you think I spent the past days here? I had business to attend as well and every time I used the boat I hid it afterwards."

And it turned out to be true, as you would find out only minutes later. The two of you spent a few more moments in the cave and only left after you heard the soldiers' steps coming back and then vanishing.

Mysaria carefully left the cave and gestured you to come once she was certain no one was there. Then the two of you ran all the way to the cliff which felt like an eternity. The white worm had covered the boat with moss and seaweed and seemingly all sorts of other things she had managed to find by the cliffs and then hid it between some rocks. You asked yourself how she had been able to heave it through the air alone but you were too exhausted to ask her. You just joined Mysaria on the boat and then you finally started your journey back to Dragonstone.

~~~~~~~~~~

This time you weren't so lucky because your journey took you nearly four days. Mayhaps this was the punishment for disobeying Rhaenyra and Daemon, you thought. But now as you came closer and closer to the island nervousness flooded your system. On one hand you were excited to tell your queen about what you had done for her by convincing the city watch to follow her and reminding them of their loyalty to Daemon but on the other hand you feared both your wife's and your husband's anger. You knew them well and you were aware that they hated when you did something behind their backs. And they had specifically told you not to leave Dragonstone.

But you knew you had to go through it now so you sat back while watching Dragonstone getting bigger before your eyes with each minute and then Mysaria steered the boat to the beach so you could leave it. You jumped out of if and then expected the white worm to follow you but she didn't make an attempt to get off the boat.

"Aren't you coming with me?"

But the woman laughed and shook her head.

"No my lady. I will not be around when the queen and king consort learn that their precious wife has fled to King's Landing and that it was me who gave her passage. I have some business in Driftmark anyway. But it won't be long until I'm back, my princess. Send your wife and husband my regards."

With these words and a smile that didn't even seem evil or gloating, the white worm steered the boat away from the coast. You waded through the water and felt the rising sun shining on your back. It was beautiful and if you weren't so nervous you might have watched the sunrise a little longer. But as you knew you couldn't avoid the confrontation anyway you made your way up to the castle.

The guards who stood by the gate looked at you with lifted eyebrows and you knew it was only a matter of minutes until Daemon and Rhaenyra would find out about your return. And yes, you had been right because only seconds after you had entered the solar room you heard a noise behind you and your husband stood there.

He was breathing heavily and his eyes were small and cold as he slowly walked towards you. It made it even worse that he moved so slowly because it made him seem even more angry. You begged him with your eyes and gulped loudly but Daemon's expression didn't change when he stood in front of you. You heard his breathing and the way he shook from fury.

"I'm sorry," you breathed pleadingly but your husband cut you off by simply raising his hand.

"Shut up," he hissed and you felt stitches in your heart that dug so deep, you felt like your heart would break into pieces.

"Please. Please, I only wanted to help. And I did, I managed – "

Once again you were interrupted because Daemon had made another step in your direction.

"I don't wish to hear it, y/n," he said, his voice growing louder. "You left Dragonstone even though Rhaenyra and I have both ordered you to stay here. Safe and guarded. You went alone and without protection to the capital."

"How do you know?" you asked with widened eyes.

"Oh please. Do you seriously think the white worm is that good? You were seen, seven hells."

You dropped your gaze but Daemon's hand reached out to lift your chin.

"How dare you? How dare you go on a mission like this?" he shouted at you and you felt more and more miserable.

"I'm sorry. But I-I was successful in what I wanted to do, I – "

"I don't fucking care what you achieved, you did something terrible and I will not tolerate you being so unreasonable!"

His voice made you twitch because you had never heard him sound so angry before.

"Do you know the chaos you have caused? Do you know that Rhaenyra hasn't slept an hour these past days? Do you know what this place was like the past week?!"

You wanted to say something, plead for him to listen to you but suddenly you heard steps behind you and Rhaenyra came in, looking equally cold in her face. Her eyes searched over your face and she stood in front of you, disappointment and anger clearly visible.

"Y/n," she hissed threatingly and your eyes filled with tears once again.

"Forgive me. I know that I went behind your back."

Daemon had grabbed the edge of the table and his knuckled were white from the force. Rhaenyra's jaw tensed.

"You could've been hurt. Murdered, raped, captured. You acted without my consent though I told you not to leave the castle."

Your hands were shaking and you chewed on your lower lip that was bloody by now.

"I would've thought that you, one of my finest warriors would have been smarter than this."

Though your wife was angry with you as well she still seemed more calm than Daemon so you hoped you could mayhaps explain to her what you had achieved. So you approached her and took her hand.

"Please. Listen to me, my queen."

Rhaenyra raised her chin and observed your desperate expression.

"What do you have to say?"

Next to you you saw Daemon fighting the urge to hit something as his hands still gripped the stoney desk tightly and it looked as though his hand would have its own will if he let go. His eyes were spitting fire and he didn't even look at you which made you feel like he would be even angrier if he did. The picture made you feel miserable but right now you had to concentrate on convincing Rhaenyra of your good will.

"I-I was able to recruit the city watch for you, Rhaenyra. They are still loyal to Daemon and they will come to fight for you, your grace."

Your wife's expression didn't change and she didn't answer so you took it as an ecouragement to keep talking.

"And I have collected detailed information about the Green's forces. I know how many ships, how many men and swords they have. I can write it down for you, this is valuable knowledge."

Rhaenyra pressed her lips together.

"How many days did you spend there? And when did you contact the white worm?"

"I spent only 2 days in King's Landing. I went to the white worm's rooms after… after our argument. She promised to take me there and it took us 2 days until we reached the city. She snuggled me in through a secret passage and I searched the city for Djaren. B-But I hid my face under a hood, no one recognized me. I ended up reminding him of the oath they swore to Daemon and he promised me that he will summon the gold cloaks and come to Dragonstone to fight by your side, Rhaenyra. The rest of my time I spent gathering information about the greens and their armies."

There was a tense silence in the room and you watched your wife blink a few times and then she stepped towards you. Rhaenyra looked stern though you could see that her expression had changed a bit. After a little while she exhaled.

"I don't have to tell you that I'm angry with you, y/n. You know that. You brought yourself and your child in great danger and disobeyed my commands."

She had emphasized each of her last words and you bowed your head.

"I know," you whispered.

"And yet you've done the crown a great favor. The army of gold cloaks will be a welcome force in the upcoming war."

Hope spreaded throughout your body and you raised your gaze again.

"You did well."

But these last words made Daemon push himself away from the table and laugh out loudly.

"You didn't just say this, did you Rhaenyra?"

He threw his hands in the air and then his flashing eyes were fixed on you again.

"We told you not to go and yet you went. It was too dangerous for you and our child. We're at war, y/n and you presented yourself, the wife of the queen right in front of the eyes of our enemies! Unarmed and with nothing but the white worm to protect you, can you not understand how irresponsible that was?"

He reached out as if he wanted to grab your arm but stopped in the movement. So his hand hung in the air until Daemon formed a fist and let it down again. His jaw was tense and you wanted nothing more than for him to hug you and forgive you. But right now you couldn't be farer away from it.

"Daemon. Calm yourself," the queen pleaded but her husband's eyes remained on you.

"She will learn from her mistake. She's done the crown a great service and deserves to be pardoned."

Daemon hissed something you couldn't understand but then turned around to leave the room with fast steps. You watched his back until he had exited but still, you didn't shift and your gaze burned a hole into the wooden door.

"Y/n," Rhaenyra said and you turned to her with wet eyes. "He will forgive you at last."

But you felt a hole in your heart that uncomfortably ached and sniffed. Then the queen took a step towards you until she was close enough to press a kiss to your cheek.

"I'm glad you're back healthy and unharmed. You will not do something like this ever again but nevertheless, I'm proud of you."

Though you were still frightened and sad about Daemon's reaction her words felt good to hear and you wrapped your arms around your wife.

"Thank you," you whispered against her ear while Rhaenyra soothingly caressed your back.

~~~~~~~~~~

All day long you tried to speak to Daemon in private but he refused you each time. First you had seen him around noon in the corridor and determindely approached him but he simply had glared at you and walked in a different direction. "Daemon!" you had shouted and followed him but he had pushed your hand away. "I don't wish to talk to you, y/n," he had hissed, his teeth dangerously grinding.

After that he seemed to have hid in his chambers because you only saw him again in the evening when he left a small council meeting. Again, you had wanted nothing more than talk to him and begged him with your eyes but he avoided your gaze and didn't allow you to talk to him. You were desperate feeling a weight on your body that hadn't been there before. You loved Daemon, you were carrying his child and it almost killed you to have him ignore you. All evening you were on the verge of crying and then decided to take a bath in order to warm your body and mayhaps relax a little.

Your handmaidens prepared a bath for you and then you sent them away. You simply needed some time alone and closed your eyes when you felt the hot water coating your skin. The lavender scent actually helped you to ease your mind and it slightly drifted away when suddenly the door was opened and your eyes snapped open.

You moved in the bathtub to see who had entered and when you saw your husband standing in your chambers in a beige shirt tears filled your eyes. He looked softer now which gave you hope and when he took a few careful steps towards you, you rested your hands on the walls of the tub.

"Daemon," you whispered and he knelt down in front of the tub.

You reached out to enclose his hand around yours and he let it happen. For a while neither of you said a word until he gulped loudly with tears in his eyes and stroke the back of your hand with his thumb.

"I really thought I lost you," he whispered and it made your buttom lip tremble.

"No. No, I was fine the whole time, I promise you."

But he shook his head and then slided his hand inside the water and moved it to your belly. He watched the swell as he caressed it carefully and you put your own hand on top of his. His hand felt good on your stomach and you closed your eyes feeling both relieved and emotional.

"I'm sorry, Daemon. I really am. I don't regret what I did, because I believe it was the right thing to do, but I'm sorry for sneaking out like this and scaring Rhaenyra and you."

Your husband's eyes met with yours and now you saw inside of them what you had been searching for the whole day. Love and gentleness.

"You did do something brave and I know that you wanted to help. But… so many bad things could've happened to you, love. I sat here at Dragonstone imagining the worst kinds of things and as you might well know, the idea of you getting hurt doesn’t sit well with me."

You reached out to touch the side of his face and it felt so good to feel his skin again. Your thumb gently caressed the area under his eye while you could hear him breathing loudly and deeply.

"But I'm here. I'm fine and so is the babe. I'm here Daemon."

He shut his eyes and his face was drawn to desperation while you felt him pressing his face against the touch of your hand. And then he opened them again and gently removed your hand from his face to take it into his. He leaned over the edge of the bathtub and kissed you as if it was your last kiss. He devoured, savoured your taste. His tongue entered your mouth and when he pulled away after a while he left you breathless and with glossy eyes.

"I want you Daemon," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

And your husband observed you with these piercing eyes of his that never failed to make your knees wobbly. He stood up and walked away and for a second you were disappointed but then you saw him return with a cotton towel to dry your body with. Daemon helped you get up and then hugged you with the big cloth. It felt so good to finally be close to him again and you crouched against his strong chest. He pressed little kisses to your wet hair and then started to rub your body to soak up every droplet of water.

You gave yourself to his touch, closed his eyes until the only thing you perceived was him and his presence. You smelled his familiar scent, heard his steady breathing and felt his soft hands caressing you with the towel.

When he was done he wrapped it closely around you and then simply picked you up. You chuckled but let him walk the two of you over to your bed. Daemon laid you down on your back and then didn't waste another second to crawl on top of you. You wanted to say something, tell him that you loved him but the words were swallowed by his mouth that pressed on your lips.

He was more eager now, almost desperate in an attempt to get impossibly close to you. Daemon's weight pressed you into the bed while his hands started to touch every inch of your skin he could reach. Soon that wasn't enough though and your husband pulled at the towel that still covered what laid underneath. He removed it from your body and you could see his pupils dance over your bare chest and swollen belly.

It was only a brief moment and then the prince lowered his head and took your left nipple between his teeth. Gently he nibbled at it which made you gasp for air and the hair on your arms stood up. Your hands found the back of his hair to hold on to something as you knew this would get intense now. Daemon seemed full of lust for you and yet caring.

Your husband knew your body and the way you reacted to him so he pulled and teased, flicked and bit at the exact right spots with the exact right amount of force in order to have you messy for him in a matter of minutes and he turned out to be successful. Your body unconsciously twitched as he just wouldn't let go of your breasts and nipples until they were all swollen and sore.

When Daemon stopped you were flushed and panted heavily and he slightly smirked while he kissed his way down. He stopped at your belly and touched the roundness of it.

"I'm never let gonna anyone hurt you. The two of you," he said with a deep voice that made your heart flutter.

"You're my flower, my love and my sun. I will protect you with everything that I have and you have to promise me that you will give me the chance to."

You nodded though you were so drunk with desire that you probably would have agreed to anything he asked you to do. And then Daemon crawled further south until he layed between your legs. His glistening eyes searched for your gaze and he made sure you looked at him when he lowered his head to lick a strip from your hole up to your pearl. It was no surprise to you by now how quickly your husband could make you tremble with his tongue alone and yet you were amazed by the reaction of your body every time. It was like his mouth was magical; the way he flicked and circled your pearl with the perfect amount of intensity. You had your head thrown back and your hands held on to Daemon's shoulders.

"Yes, Daemon. Ohhhh," you pressed, feeling short of breath.

He observed your face while licking your nub and spreading your wetness all over your cunt. He was intense, passionate and you felt that he wanted this to be full of emotions for the both of you.

"The prettiest little cunt," he whispered and you could barely understand him.

"I know she missed me, didn't she?" he smirked while watching your throbbing pearl. You couldn't bring yourself to answer him but arched your hips to get closer to his mouth.

"Please, oh fuck."

Daemon went faster now, rubbing your pearl with quick movements of his tongue and he additionally inserted two fingers in your hole to make it even more sensational for you.

"Come for me, sweet girl," your husband said, his voice muffled.

And you did, with a gasp for air and the tension in your belly flooding through your body you reached your high and squeezed your eyes shut. While you were still trying to collect yourself and laid with your eyes closed Daemon crawled up. You opened your eyes again when you felt his hands cupping your face and you powerlessly smiled at him.

"Ready for my cock, little one?" Daemon growled and you nodded.

"I want you to feel it, y/n. I want you to feel me so deep inside of you because you're mine and I won't let any person harm you," he breathed and then without a warning he pushed inside of you. Your eyes widened at the streth and he gave you a moment to adjust.

"You're not gonna leave me again, sweetling. I need you and I don't want to ever feel this again. Not knowing where you are, who you're with and if you've been harmed."

You could only nod, over and over again while your eyes threatened to close. Daemon tensed his jaw and leaned down to kiss you possessively. His cock started to thrust into your needy hole and he grabbed the side of your neck. Gently and yet clear in what he wanted to say with it. You were his' and he wouldn't let anyone hurt you.

His thrusts were deep and slow, just how you wanted it at this moment. They made your head dizzy and you felt so incredibly close and connected with Daemon. Now and then you couldn't help but close your eyes but you searched for his' every time you opened them again. Little sighs left your body and your shivering hands reached up to pull at him.

"Please," you whined. "Kiss me."

And so he did without stopping the movement inside of you. His lips felt swollen by now but so were yours and your didn't care about anything in the world right now but him. He desperately clung to your shoulders and head, showing you that he would never let go.

Everything was so intense and even a brush with his thumb over your skin was heated with his the fire in his blood. You never wanted this to end, never wanted him to pull out of you and never wanted to lose his touch on your skin. And right now, you genuinely believed that your wish might get fulfilled with his lips savouring your taste and his hands so eager and determined that you felt like you had a good chance of this going on forever.

But to your regret it didn't. Soon Daemon's hand wandered to your pearl, a sign that he wouldn't last long and wanted to make sure that you came with him. His finger was sloppy and so were his thrusts as he drove the both of you closer to releasing with every second. His face was buried in your neck, something that you welcomed a lot because you could bury your hands in his hair that way and hold on to him as you were getting fucked into the bed sheets and gasped for air at every thrust.

"Oh Daemon," you sighed and he left kisses along your neck.

"I love you, y/n. Don't you ever leave like that again. I can't bear it a second time."

His voice was muffled but you could hear his words clearly.

"I won't, my love," you moaned. "I won't. I love you and I need you."

His thrusts became faster and you felt how close he was to releasing. His finger circled your pearl relentlessly and then you eventually felt the pleasure exploding in your tummy the second time for tonight.

You clenched around his cock and through your dizzy mind sensed Daemon collapsing on top of you while little moans escaped his mouth. His seed filled your hole and then the two of you were panting heavily, his body on top of yours and both your eyes closed.

'Now that is a position we might have the chance to remain in for the rest of our lives,' you thought and allowed your mind to drift away.