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ha-rinrin · 9 months ago

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Torn Between Fire and Ice

summary: In a world divided between Piltover’s rules and Zaun’s chaos, a forbidden connection grows.

wordcount: 9.7k

pairing: Jinx x fem!reader (Caitlyn’s little sister)

warning: smut

sequel

masterlist

Zaun always felt different at night. The sharp edges of the day softened, and the endless noise dulled to a hum. Neon lights flickered in the distance, casting a soft glow over the worn buildings. You couldn’t help but smile as you made your way through the familiar alley, anticipation buzzing in your chest.

Jinx had been waiting for you, perched atop a stack of crates, her legs swinging idly. When she spotted you, that wild grin spread across her face, but it wasn’t the mischievous one she wore when she was causing chaos—it was the softer one, reserved just for you.

“Hey, troublemaker,” you teased as you approached, your heart lifting at the sight of her.

She hopped down from the crates with ease, her electric-blue hair catching the light as she landed in front of you. “Says the girl sneaking down here in the dead of night,” she shot back, her grin widening. “Pretty sure you’re the troublemaker.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your face. “Maybe. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Jinx’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the reckless, wild girl you knew faded away, replaced by someone softer, someone who let you see the side of her that no one else did.

She took your hand, tugging you gently toward her little hideaway—a tucked-away rooftop with a perfect view of the city below. It was your secret spot, away from the dangers of the Undercity and the watchful eyes of Piltover. Up here, it felt like it was just the two of you, like the rest of the world didn’t matter.

You sat together on the ledge, your legs dangling over the edge as the city stretched out beneath you. The hum of Zaun echoed in the distance, but here, in this moment, it was quiet. Peaceful. For a while, neither of you said anything, content to be wrapped up in the stillness of the night, just the two of you.

But the peace you felt was fragile. The thoughts you had been pushing away slowly bubbled back to the surface.

“I’ve been thinking about Caitlyn.” you said softly, breaking the silence.

At the mention of her name, Jinx’s playful demeanor faltered. Her eyes flickered with something sharper, a flicker of unease. She knew exactly who Caitlyn was—Piltover’s top Enforcer, the one person who could ruin everything for both of you.

Jinx’s legs stopped swinging, her carefree smile fading slightly at the name. She looked over at you, eyes cautious. “What about her?”

You sighed. It was hard to even say it out loud, but the more time you spent with Jinx, the more the worry grew. “I’m afraid she’ll find out… about us.”

Jinx shifted, standing up from the ledge and running a hand through her electric-blue hair. She crossed her arms, her expression tightening. “So what if she does? You think she’s gonna march down here and drag you back?”

“No, it’s not just that,” you replied, standing as well. “She’s been keeping an eye on me, asking questions. If she catches on… I’m worried she’ll see you as a threat.”

Jinx snorted, a sharp, bitter sound. “She already does.” She turned away from you, pacing a little. “To her, I’m just some dangerous criminal. A problem that needs solving.”

The words hung in the air between you. You couldn’t deny the truth in them, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. “It’s not that simple, Jinx. She’s doing her job, but I’m scared of what she’ll do if she knows we’re together.”

Jinx stopped pacing, her fists clenching at her sides. “What, you think she’s gonna throw me in jail? Put a bullet in my head?”

“Jinx…” The thought of something happening to her made your chest tighten. “I don’t know what she’d do. She’s determined, and once she’s on a mission…”

Jinx’s jaw tensed, her eyes flashing with that wild energy she tried so hard to contain. “Let her come. I’m not afraid of her.”

You stepped forward, grabbing her hand, holding tight. “I don’t want you two fighting. I don’t want this to end in some kind of showdown.”

Her eyes softened at your touch, though the tension still crackled under her skin. “Then what do we do? You gonna stop seeing me?”

The question hung heavy between you, but you shook your head firmly. “No. I’m not giving you up.”

Jinx’s grip on your hand tightened, her voice lowering. “Good. Because I’m not letting anyone take you away. Not her. Not Piltover. No one.”

You rested your forehead against hers, the warmth of her hand grounding you. “We’ll figure it out,” you whispered. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” she murmured, her voice softer now. “We’ll make it work. No one else matters, not when it’s just us.”

The world outside, with all its dangers and complications, felt far away as you stood there together, holding onto each other in the quiet of the night.

Jinx lingered in your embrace, the tension in her body gradually easing as your fingers brushed against hers. For a moment, it was as if everything beyond this rooftop didn’t exist. The weight of the world fell away, leaving just the two of you, hidden from prying eyes and the chaos that always seemed to follow Jinx.

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, her fingers gently tracing a path up your arm. “You’re too good for me, you know that?” she whispered, a hint of vulnerability seeping into her voice.

You shook your head, smiling softly. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Sure it is,” Jinx teased, but there was a flicker of something else beneath the surface—doubt, maybe. Fear. “You’re the shiny one, always doing the right thing, while I…” She trailed off, glancing out at the city below, her lips pulling into a crooked smirk. “I blow stuff up.”

“Hey.” You gently turned her face back toward you, your thumb brushing her cheek. “You’re not just that, Jinx. Not to me.”

She blinked, her eyes searching yours as if she was trying to figure out how you could possibly believe that. “You’re crazy, you know that?” she muttered, but the small smile she gave you was filled with affection.

“Maybe I am,” you teased back, your voice soft. “But I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.”

Her grip on your hand tightened, and she leaned in, resting her head on your shoulder. “It’s just… what if we can’t keep this a secret forever?” she asked, her voice quieter now. “I know you want to, but… I don’t know what’s gonna happen if Piltover finds out.”

You could feel the uncertainty weighing on her, and it mirrored your own fears. There was a delicate balance between the life you had in Piltover and the dangerous world Jinx lived in. The fear of losing her, of something going wrong, gnawed at you constantly.

“We’ll take it one day at a time,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around her. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Jinx was silent for a moment, and then she let out a small sigh, melting further into your embrace. “You’re always so calm about everything,” she muttered. “I don’t get it.”

You laughed lightly, your fingers gently running through her blue strands. “I’m not as calm as you think.”

“Yeah, sure,” she grumbled, though you could hear the hint of amusement in her voice. She leaned back, looking at you with that familiar mischievous glint in her eyes. “I don’t deserve you, but I’m not letting you go.”

“You better not,” you replied, grinning.

Jinx pressed her forehead against yours again, her breath warm against your lips as she whispered, “You’re mine, and I don’t care what anyone says.”

The intensity in her voice made your heart skip a beat, and before you could respond, her lips were on yours, soft yet filled with a fierce determination. You kissed her back, savoring the way her arms tightened around you as if she was holding onto you for dear life.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes were softer, the wild edge gone for the moment. “Let’s stay here a little longer,” she murmured, leaning back into you.

You nodded, content to stay wrapped up in her warmth for as long as you could. The night stretched out before you, and while the world below was filled with danger and uncertainty, here, in this little bubble of peace, it felt like nothing could touch you.

For now, that was enough

You made your way back to the Kiramman mansion, the weight of the conversation with Jinx still lingering in your chest. As you entered the grand entrance hall, the silence felt almost suffocating. You had hoped to get back to your room undetected, to process everything in peace, but fate had other plans.

Before you could make it halfway up the staircase, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. You froze, already knowing who it was. Caitlyn.

“Where have you been?” Her voice was calm, but there was a certain edge to it, like a blade hidden in soft velvet.

You turned around to face her, trying to mask the nervousness rising in your chest. “Just out for a walk,” you said, your voice casual but your heart pounding in your ears.

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “A walk, huh? In the middle of the night?”

You shrugged, attempting to brush it off, but she wasn’t letting it go. Her piercing eyes studied you closely, searching for any hint of something she couldn’t quite place. “You’ve been acting... different lately,” she said slowly. “And I’m not blind. You’re slipping away.”

Your stomach dropped. You hadn’t expected Caitlyn to catch on so quickly. “What do you mean by that?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Caitlyn took a step closer, eyes narrowing as she studied you. “You’ve been... distracted. You’re leaving the house at odd hours, and I know you’re not just wandering the city aimlessly.” Her voice dropped into something softer but no less serious. “What’s going on? You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”

You shifted uncomfortably, heart racing in your chest. The last thing you wanted was for her to find out about Jinx. “It’s nothing. Just... personal stuff.”

Caitlyn didn’t buy it. “Personal stuff? You can’t even tell me what’s going on? We’re sisters, you know. You don’t have to keep everything from me.”

You felt the pressure mounting, your mind scrambling for the right words. “It’s... it’s complicated, Caitlyn. You wouldn’t understand.”

Her eyes flickered with frustration, but she held herself back. “I don’t want to understand, I just want you to be honest with me. I’m worried about you.” Her voice softened, though the concern was still evident. “If you’re getting involved in something dangerous, I want to know.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. She was so close to the truth, and it terrified you. “I’m not getting involved in anything dangerous, okay?” you lied, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “I’m just... trying to figure things out.”

Caitlyn’s gaze lingered on you, searching for the cracks in your facade. You could see the doubt in her eyes, but she didn’t push further. “Alright. But if something happens, you’ll tell me, right?”

You nodded, trying to force a reassuring smile. “I promise.”

The tension in the air didn’t entirely dissipate, but Caitlyn seemed to accept your answer, for now. “Fine. Just... be careful, okay?”

“I will,” you said softly, but in the back of your mind, a fear gnawed at you. The more you kept lying, the closer you were to everything unraveling.

As Caitlyn turned and walked away, you exhaled a shaky breath. You knew you couldn’t keep this secret for much longer, but for now, you’d do anything to protect Jinx from Caitlyn’s prying eyes.

You had just left your room, wanting a moment of space from the constant buzzing in your mind. The house was quieter than usual, the echoes of footsteps from other rooms distant in the silence of the night. You made your way down the hallway toward the staircase when you heard voices coming from Caitlyn’s room, low and urgent.

You stopped, instinctively pressing yourself against the wall, straining to listen. It was clear that Caitlyn and Vi, her girlfriend, were in the middle of something serious.

“You can’t keep doing this, Cait,” Vi’s voice carried through the door, rough around the edges. “Pushing her, I mean. You’re just gonna drive her away.”

You shifted slightly, heart starting to thud in your chest as you pressed your ear closer to the door, trying to hear more clearly.

“I can’t just sit back and watch her self-destruct, Vi!” Caitlyn's voice cracked with frustration, more vulnerable than you'd heard in a while. “Every time I think we’re getting somewhere, she pulls away, and I don’t know why. I can’t stand seeing her spiral like this.”

Vi’s response was softer, more measured. “I know, but you're doing more harm than good. You’re her sister, Cait. She needs you, but she also needs space. And right now? She’s not gonna give you that if she feels cornered.”

There was a pause, and you heard the shuffle of movement from inside. You couldn’t help but picture Caitlyn pacing, her worry turning into a tangled mess.

“I just… I don’t know what to do anymore.” Caitlyn’s voice softened, the raw emotion in it a stark contrast to her usual composed demeanor. “She’s been hiding something. I can feel it. She’s been sneaking around, and I don’t think it’s just the usual trouble. What if she’s involved in something… dangerous? What if she’s already in over her head?”

Vi sighed. “Maybe she’s involved in something, but don’t jump to conclusions, Cait. You don’t know the whole story. It’s not always as simple as we think it is. We can’t protect her by controlling everything she does.”

You swallowed, hearing the panic creeping into Caitlyn's voice. “I know. But if I can just get through to her, if I can get her to open up—”

“Then you need to back off, Cait. She’s not gonna open up if you keep trying to pry everything out of her.” Vi’s voice was steady, offering the kind of grounding Caitlyn probably needed right now. “She’ll come to you when she’s ready, but only if she feels safe. You have to let her make the choice.”

There was another pause. You could almost hear Caitlyn's thoughts racing. Her silence spoke volumes, and you knew she was struggling, torn between her protective instincts and her desire to respect your space.

“You know how stubborn she is,” Caitlyn finally murmured, her voice quieter now, almost defeated. “She won’t let me help her. I just… I can’t lose her, Vi.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. Caitlyn's fear wasn’t just for your safety—it was for her own place in your life. You felt that pang in your chest, a mixture of guilt and affection. She loved you. But could she ever accept everything about you? Could she accept Jinx?

“I get it,” Vi said, her voice softening as well. “But you can’t fix her by forcing her to change. If she feels like you’re pushing her into something she’s not ready for, she’s just gonna shut you out.”

The silence that followed felt heavy. You swallowed hard, barely breathing, afraid that any noise you made might give you away. You wanted to open the door, to step into the room and end this conversation before it spiraled further. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t let Caitlyn know everything just yet. Not until you figured it out yourself.

Finally, Caitlyn spoke again, her voice barely a whisper. “I just don’t want to lose her.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of her words making it harder to breathe. You knew she cared. But how could she ever understand? How could she accept what you’d gotten yourself tangled up in? How could she accept Jinx?

You turned away from the door, your heart pounding, and slowly made your way back down the hallway. Caitlyn’s words and Vi’s advice buzzed in your ears, a quiet reminder that no matter how much you wanted to protect your sister from the truth, the truth was already starting to slip through the cracks.

You sat on your bed, staring at the ceiling, the stillness of the mansion pressing in on you.

That’s when you heard it—the softest sound, almost imperceptible. The window creaked open.

Before you could even turn, she was there.

Jinx, perched on the windowsill, her wild blue hair framing her face in the soft moonlight. She looked like a storm waiting to happen, electric energy crackling around her even in the stillness. She didn’t announce herself, didn’t need to—just slid in as if she owned the night.

Without a second thought, you shot to your feet and rushed over to her.

"Toots," she greeted you with a wicked grin, her eyes twinkling. "Miss me?"

You didn’t answer right away. You didn’t need to. You just grabbed her, pulling her into a tight hug, burying your face in her shoulder as if she was the only thing that could make the world feel okay again.

She didn’t mind, of course."Whoa there" she murmured, her voice low. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in even closer, her hands rubbing your back in slow, comforting circles.

Your eyes widened for a moment, but you quickly glanced toward the door. Caitlyn’s room was only a few doors down. If she heard any noise, if she woke up… panic flooded your chest.

Jinx noticed the shift in your expression, her lips curling into a smirk. “What’s up, toots?” she whispered, voice playful yet low. She didn’t need to say more—her eyes sparkled with that familiar mischievous energy. “Scared she’ll hear us?”

You quickly nodded toward Caitlyn’s room. “She’s close… what if—what if she wakes up?”

Jinx tilted her head, the playful smirk still tugging at her lips. “She’s got her own thing, don’t worry. She won’t come barging in.”

You tried to calm yourself, but the dread still gnawed at you. Caitlyn was so close, and you couldn’t help but imagine her walking in, seeing you and Jinx, and everything unraveling. Your stomach churned at the thought.

Sensing the tension in your body, Jinx didn’t wait for an invitation. She crawled into bed dragging you beside her, her lithe body pressing up against yours as she wrapped her arms around you. She nestled into you, her cheek against yours as she whispered in your ear, her voice low and soothing, “Relax, toots. It’s just you and me. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into her embrace. Her scent was comforting, her touch grounding. The fear of Caitlyn hearing you slowly began to fade as Jinx’s presence filled the space. She could make the whole world seem small, as if it was just the two of you in that moment.

Jinx’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer. She pressed a soft kiss to your temple and whispered, “I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re not gonna lose me, promise.”

You felt your muscles relax under her touch, the weight of the world, and Caitlyn’s potential judgment, slipping away for just a moment. “Promise?” you murmured, still clinging to her.

Jinx hummed in contentment, her fingers softly stroking your back. “Promise.” Her voice was almost playful, but there was something deeper in it—a quiet certainty. “Now stop worrying, toots. You’re stuck with me.”

You buried your face against her shoulder, wrapping your arms around her in return. For now, nothing mattered except the warmth of her body next to yours, the steady rise and fall of her breath.

Caitlyn’s room, the mansion’s walls, the fear—they all seemed a distant thing.

With Jinx here, you were safe. And in this moment, it was just the two of you

You woke up to the warmth of the bed, but the space beside you was cold. You blinked, groggy from sleep, and glanced around. No sign of Jinx.

For a moment, panic gripped your chest. Had she left without waking you? But then your eyes landed on the small piece of paper folded neatly on your pillow, the edges crinkled with the telltale signs of Jinx’s handwriting.

You picked it up, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. It was so her—scrawled across the paper in jagged, playful lettering:

"Hey, toots. Had to bail. Big plans. But I’ll be back. Promise. You can’t get rid of me that easily. Don’t miss me too much, alright?”

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You read it over a few more times, your heart warming. But there was no time to linger. You had to get going. Jinx was already off doing her thing, and you had a million reasons to meet her at her hideout.

Just as you were about to step into the hallway, Caitlyn appeared. Her eyes caught yours, sharp and calculating.

"Going somewhere?" Her tone was casual, but you could hear the underlying suspicion in her voice.

You froze, unable to hide the tension in your body. "Just going for a walk," you muttered, but you could hear the lie hanging in the air.

Her gaze narrowed, clearly not buying it. "At this hour? Why are you disappearing. Avoiding me. What's really going on with you?"

A rush of frustration surged through you. You weren’t in the mood for this. Not now. "I’m fine," you shot back, your voice sharp. "I just need some space, Cait."

But Caitlyn wasn’t letting you off the hook. She stepped closer, her arms crossing over her chest. "Space? You’re acting like you’ve got something to hide. What is it? You’ve been distant, constantly avoiding me. Are you in some kind of gang or what?"

You could feel your chest tightening with every word she spoke. She didn’t know. She couldn’t know.

"I told you. I’m fine," you snapped, the words coming out with more bite than you intended.

Caitlyn’s eyes flashed with something hurt and frustrated. "No, you’re not fine! I know you, okay? You’ve been acting strange. Something’s wrong, and I’m not just gonna sit here and pretend it isn’t!"

You could feel the heat rising in your chest, the anger starting to boil over. "You don’t get it, Caitlyn!" you shot back, your voice rising with each word. "You don’t understand! I don’t need you to control me, okay? I can take care of myself."

Caitlyn's eyes widened, her jaw tightening. "I’m not trying to control you!" she shouted, her voice cracking with frustration. "I’m trying to help you! But if you keep pushing me away, how am I supposed to help?"

The argument was spiraling out of control, each word cutting deeper than the last. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat, a hot surge of anger making everything feel suffocating. You were done with this.

"Stop!" you yelled, voice shaking with emotion. "I don’t need you to fix everything! I just... I just need to do this on my own!"

You turned, fists clenched at your sides, not even sparing Caitlyn another glance. You were done. The tension, the secrets, the constant pressure—it was all too much.

Before she could say anything else, you marched toward the front door. Caitlyn’s voice rang out behind you, frantic. "Wait! Where are you going? We’re not done talking about this!"

But you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t listen to any more of her concerns. You couldn’t deal with her seeing you fall apart when you were so sure of one thing—Jinx was the only one who made sense to you. Jinx was the only one who understood.

You threw open the front door, not even bothering to look back as you stormed out. You didn’t care about the mansion, or the mansion’s rules, or Caitlyn's feelings right now. You needed space. You needed to find Jinx

The familiar creak of the door echoed through the hideout as you entered, your eyes adjusting to the dim, flickering lights. The place was as chaotic as ever—broken tech scattered around, wires crisscrossing like webs—but it felt like home, wild and untamed, just like her.

And there she was.

Jinx. She was perched on the edge of an overturned crate, blue hair glowing faintly in the dim light, eyes immediately locking onto you. Her grin was a mix of mischief and something deeper, something that made your chest tighten. She was trouble, always had been, but damn if it didn’t feel like you needed that trouble right now.

"Miss me, toots?" she asked, her voice dripping with playful confidence, as if she already knew the answer.

You barely heard the question. Without thinking, you crossed the room in quick, purposeful steps, the weight of everything outside—the argument with Caitlyn, the constant stress of trying to keep everything in balance—bearing down on you like a hundred-pound weight. All of it was exhausting. All of it was too much.

But Jinx?

Jinx was different.

She was already in front of you before you even realized it, her hands grabbing you by the waist and pulling you toward her with such force it made your breath hitch.

“You’re looking all wound up, toots. What’s got you so strung out?” she teased, her lips brushing against your ear. “Is it Caitlyn?” Her voice dropped lower, a whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. “She doesn’t get it, does she? Doesn’t get you. Doesn’t get us.”

You froze for a second, but Jinx didn’t give you time to think. She was relentless, pulling you in closer, her body pressing against yours like she was trying to erase every ounce of tension. “Don’t worry about her,” she whispered, her fingers trailing along the hem of your shirt, lifting it up just enough to send a ripple of warmth through your skin. “That’s all behind us now.”

You inhaled sharply, the proximity to her sending your mind spinning. You needed this. Needed her. The thought of Caitlyn, of everything you’d left behind, seemed so far away in this moment. It wasn’t about Caitlyn anymore. It was about Jinx.

Without a word, you pulled her closer, your arms winding around her, your face pressing into the wild, untamed mass of blue hair. “I’m so tired of all the drama,” you murmured against her, your fingers finding their way to the back of her neck. “I just want to forget about it all.”

Her hands slid down your sides, her touch featherlight at first, teasing. “Then forget,” she whispered, lips brushing against your ear. “I’m done with all that outside bullshit. No more stress, no more worries. It’s just you and me, toots. Let me take care of you.”

Your breath caught at the intensity of her words, and before you knew it, her lips were on yours. The kiss was soft at first, almost sweet, like she was savoring the moment. But the longer it lasted, the more it deepened, turning into something more desperate, more urgent. Her hands roamed, pushing you back against the nearest crate as she pinned you with her body, her touch sending sparks of heat straight to your core.

“You need to relax, toots,” she murmured against your lips, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye. “And I’m really good at making you forget everything.”

You didn’t hesitate this time, your hands slipping into her hair, pulling her back into you. She made the stress of Caitlyn and everything else vanish, just like that. All that mattered was her.

Jinx pulled you toward the couch getting on top of you, her fingers grazing under your clothes with a slow, teasing touch. She was in control now. She always had been, but tonight, it was like she was finally pushing all of your worries aside. She leaned in, her lips brushing against your neck as her hands slid lower, finding the sensitive spots she knew would make you melt.

“Let me take care of you,” she whispered, her breath hot against your skin. “You deserve this. No more bullshit. Just me. Just us.”

It felt like the world outside didn’t exist anymore. No more Caitlyn. No more stress. Just Jinx, her hands, her lips, her body against yours, making everything else fade away.

The room was thick with the heat of your shared space, the world outside slipping away like a distant memory. The only thing that mattered, the only thing you could focus on, was Jinx—her lips, her hands, the way she made you feel as if nothing else existed.

Her hands slid under your shirt, fingers grazing against your skin with a deliberate slowness that made your breath catch. Her fingers circled your nipples, pinching them under your bra. She was being playful, teasing, as if she knew exactly what it would take to undo you. And god, it was working. Every touch sent waves of warmth radiating through your body.

You moaned softly, your head tipping back as her lips kissed a trail down your neck. The sound of her voice, low and mischievous, echoed in your mind, but all you could do was hold onto her, feeling her pull you closer, needing her in a way that was raw and unfiltered.

“Relax, toots,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear. “You don’t need to think. Just feel.”

She tugged at your shirt, pulling it off in one smooth motion before her hands were back on you, tracing the curve of your back and waist, sending shivers down your spine.

You ran your hands down her arms, pulling her even closer, feeling the press of her body against yours. You needed this, needed her, more than you could put into words. The tension you’d been holding onto—everything from Caitlyn’s confrontation to the constant weight of your own responsibilities—melted away with every kiss, every caress.

“You’re mine tonight,” she muttered, her voice a mixture of mischief and desire. She pulled away just enough to look at you, her eyes dark with promise. “No more drama. No more distractions. Just us.”

The intensity of her gaze made your heart race. Her lips found yours again, harder now, more urgent, as if she couldn’t wait another second. And you didn’t want her to. You wanted this. You wanted her.

Her hands moved faster now, working quickly to undress you. The fabric was quickly discarded, and her fingertips grazed over every inch of exposed skin as she kissed you deeply. You could feel her pulse racing under her fingertips, the way her body reacted to you just as much as yours did to her.

When she pulled back for a moment, panting lightly, she let her fingers trail down your body, stopping just above your waistband. “Tell me you want this,” she whispered, her voice thick with need. “Tell me you want me.”

You gasped at the intensity in her voice, your hands moving to her waist to pull her closer again. “I want you,” you breathed, the words feeling almost too simple for what was building between you two. “I need you, Jinx. Don’t stop.”

Her grin grew wider at that, the playful spark in her eyes never fading. She leaned in to kiss you again, and this time, there was no holding back. The kiss was all heat and hunger, the kind of kiss that made you forget everything except the electric connection between you.

Jinx’s hands were on you again, moving with purpose. She kissed you harder, more desperate. “That’s right,” she murmured, her lips never leaving your skin. “Just let go. I’ve got you.”

And you did. You let go of everything—the stress, the drama, the fight. All you cared about was her, the way she made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered. The way she made you forget everything that wasn’t this moment.

She kissed her way down your body, her lips leaving a trail of fire on your skin as she made her way to the waistband of your pants. You could feel the anticipation building inside you, the need for her becoming unbearable.

Her fingers dipped lower, pushing the waistband of your pants down along with your underwear, and you gasped as the cool air hit your skin. The contrast between the warmth of her hands and the sudden chill made every nerve in your body stand at attention.

Her smirk deepened as she leaned down, eyes dark with mischief and something much more primal. With a quick motion, she slid her hand down your body, her fingertips grazing over your sensitive skin. You barely had time to react before she thrust her fingers in you, quick and confident, making you gasp in surprise.

"Just relax, toots," she murmured, her lips brushing against your clit as her smirk never wavered. "I’m gonna make you feel good."

The sudden intrusion was sharp, but there was something about the way she moved that had you melting into her touch, your body arching up to meet her. Every nerve seemed to be on fire as she worked you, teasing you just enough to leave you begging for more. Her smirk told you everything you needed to know—this was her moment, and you were hers.

She set a rhythm, slow at first, watching you closely as you squirmed beneath her, unable to hide the way her touch unraveled you. She leaned down to kiss you right were you needed her, tongue sliding against your clit, you moaned, the feeling making you see stars.

“You like that, don’t you?” she breathed against your clit, her pace picking up, more urgent now. “I could do this all night.”

You moaned, breathless from the sensation, your hands gripping her hair, needing her closer. "Don’t stop," you whispered, voice trembling.

And she didn’t. Jinx’s fingers worked with a relentless intensity, thrusting deeper, faster, at the same time her tongue was restless, sucking, flicking, you name her smirk only grew more wicked the louder you moaned. She knew what she was doing. She knew the effect she had on you. And God, you were desperate for it. For her.

The intensity of Jinx’s movements made your heart race, each shift of her body pushing you closer to the edge. She knew exactly what she was doing—her touch was confident, assured, like she was claiming something that was already hers.

You could feel her smirk against your skin, the way her lips curved into that playful, dangerous smile that made everything about her feel like a rush of adrenaline. Every flick of her tongue and every thrust of her fingers pushed you closer to the edge, but it wasn’t just the pleasure that had you unraveling.

And then, it happened. Jinx’s fingers found just the right spot inside you, pressing in deep with a precision that stole the breath from your lungs. The way she touched you—exactly where you needed it—made your entire body jerk in response, a sharp gasp escaping your lips.

It was as if the world narrowed down to that one spot, to the feeling of her fingers curling inside, hitting a place that made your legs tremble and your pulse spike. The pleasure was overwhelming, pulling you under in a way that left you breathless and dizzy, your body reacting to her touch with instinctive urgency. She felt you shudder, the way your walls tightened around her fingers, and her smirk only grew, that mischievous gleam in her eyes darkening with each desperate movement.

“Found your sweet spot, huh?” she purred, her voice low, thick with satisfaction. She didn’t stop, her fingers continuing to work you with an expert rhythm, knowing exactly how to draw out every inch of pleasure.

Her eyes never left yours, studying the way your body responded, the way you melted against her. “Don’t try to hide it,” she whispered, her fingers pressing harder, deeper, hitting that same spot again and again, pushing you closer to the edge.

Your head tipped back, a soft moan escaping you as she coaxed the pleasure from you with relentless skill. You could feel yourself coming undone, everything inside you tightening as she took you to the brink. The pressure was unbearable, but it was the good kind—the kind you couldn’t pull away from even if you wanted to.

Jinx’s fingers never slowed, working you with a steady, practiced rhythm that had you gasping for air. Every time she pressed deeper, hitting that perfect spot, your body reacted like it was on fire. It was almost too much, but you couldn’t pull away. Not when she was giving you this—showing you just how much control she had over every part of you.

Her smirk didn’t fade. In fact, it seemed to grow with every reaction she got from you. The way you shuddered, the way you clenched around her, it only made her want to push further, to make you unravel completely.

"Look at you," she murmured, her voice a velvet whisper against your skin as her lips pressed against your neck. "Can’t even breathe, huh? You’re mine. Don’t forget that."

You couldn’t even muster the strength to argue. The words tangled in your throat, choked out by the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. Every movement of her fingers, every flick of her tongue,every suck on your clit, was a blow to your restraint. You were quickly losing yourself in her touch, the pleasure swirling inside you, coiling tighter with every second.

Her lips found your clit again, deep and urgent making out with it, as if she couldn’t get enough of you. She was everywhere—her scent, her touch, the feel of her pressing against you, pushing you further into the abyss of heat and desire.

"Do you feel that?" she breathed against your pussy, her fingers circling inside you with a teasing slowness, making you whimper in frustration. "You like the way I touch you, don’t you?"

Her voice was a low, seductive whisper, just close enough to drive you wild but not close enough to keep you from chasing after her. She had you completely under her spell, and you could feel it in the way your body reacted to her every move, every subtle shift.

The tension inside you was unbearable now. You were so close. You couldn’t stop the desperate need that was rising inside you, the way your body craved release, craving her touch more than anything else.

"Jinx..." you gasped, your hands gripping her hair as you tried to ground yourself, to hold on. But it was slipping away—slipping fast, and you didn’t want to stop it.

She responded with a deep, almost growling laugh, her fingers never stopping their relentless pace.

You needed her, wanted her in a way that went beyond what you thought you were capable of. Her words, her touch, everything about her was pulling you under, breaking down every barrier, every thought that stood between you and the release you so desperately needed.

With a final thrust of her fingers, a quick flick of her tongue, she pushed you over the edge. It hit you like a tidal wave, crashing through every part of you. Your whole body trembled, your back arched off the bed as the pleasure flooded you in waves, leaving you breathless and dizzy.

Jinx’s smirk softened, her fingers slowing as she kissed you in the lips, this time tender, soothing. “Told you I’d take care of you,” she whispered, her voice low and filled with satisfaction.

You couldn’t respond immediately, still reeling from the intensity of it all, but the weight of her presence, her hands gently caressing your body, made everything feel right. She wasn’t just a force of chaos in your life—she was the storm and the calm, all in one.

"You’re perfect," she murmured, pulling you close and letting you rest against her chest, both of you still tangled in the aftermath.

The room was quiet now, except for the sound of your breaths coming back to normal. You didn’t need to say anything else—Jinx had always known exactly what you needed, when you needed it.

And you both lay there in the aftermath, bodies entwined, feeling the warmth of each other’s presence, the only thing that mattered in that moment.

The room was still as Jinx pulled you close, her arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that contrasted the wildness of the moment. She kissed the top of your head gently, her lips lingering there as she breathed you in, as if memorizing the feel of you in her arms.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice softer now, the playful edge gone. "You okay?"

You nodded against her chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart under your cheek. Her skin was warm, her touch soothing as she ran her fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp gently. It was grounding, calming, the contrast to everything that had come before.

"You were incredible," she added, her voice full of admiration, her thumb brushing along your jawline. "I mean it. You’re... amazing."

You looked up at her, meeting her gaze, and smiled softly, still trying to catch your breath. "You too," you murmured, your voice hoarse but sincere. "You never fail to impress me "

Her lips curved into a small smile, her eyes softened as she kissed your forehead, her touch tender as it lingered on your skin. “Good,” she whispered, her voice low but full of warmth. “Just... don’t forget that you’re mine. You hear me?”

You could hear the need in her voice, the way she craved that reassurance, and you knew it wasn’t just about the physical. She wanted to know you were here, with her, for her.

"I’m yours," you whispered back, your hand resting on her chest, feeling the rhythm of her heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

Jinx’s expression softened, and she pulled you closer, curling her body around yours as if she never wanted to let go. The room grew quieter, filled only with the sound of your shared breaths, the soft hum of connection. She was still holding you tightly, but there was a gentleness now, a peace in the way she held you as if she were making sure you were okay, that you felt safe.

"You did so good," she murmured again, pressing a light kiss to your lips. "Just... rest, yeah? I’m here."

You closed your eyes, the weight of everything melting away in her embrace. There was no need for words now. Just the warmth of her body next to yours, the calm after the storm, and the quiet knowing that you were both in this together.

And for a while, nothing else mattered

The mansion felt empty, the stillness wrapping around you as you stepped through the door. The fire crackled in the corner, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Caitlyn and Vi sat in the living room, both tense, eyes fixed on you as you walked in. Vi didn’t speak, but her presence was enough—silent support, waiting for Caitlyn to take charge.

As soon as Caitlyn saw you, her eyes narrowed, and she stood up. “Where the hell have you been?” Her voice was sharp, more demanding than concerned.

You let out a short breath, avoiding eye contact. “Out,” you muttered, shrugging off your jacket, your pulse already picking up. You didn’t need this right now.

“Out?” Caitlyn's voice rose, frustration building. “You’ve been vanishing for days. Coming back late at night, like everything’s normal. What’s going on?”

You stared at her for a long moment, your chest tightening. You weren’t ready to explain, not like this. “What’s going on?” You laughed, though it was harsh, bitter. “You don’t know anything. You don’t have any idea what’s really happening.”

Caitlyn’s eyes flashed with disbelief, taking a step forward. “Then why don’t you enlighten me? Because right now, it looks like you’ve lost your damn mind. Running around, hiding away—what is this?”

You could feel your temper rising, the words coming out sharper than you intended. “I don’t owe you an explanation, Cait. You don’t get to tell me how to live my life.”

Her expression darkened, her fists clenching at her sides. “I don’t need to tell you, but I’m damn well going to ask,” she snapped. “Because this—this is not you. You’re acting like you don’t care, like it doesn’t matter. I’m not gonna sit back and watch you destroy yourself without asking why.”

“I’m not destroying anything,” you shot back, your voice low but intense. “I’m protecting what matters. You don’t understand any of it.”

Caitlyn took a deep breath, trying to rein herself in, but her frustration was palpable. “Protecting what, exactly? Yourself? You think running away from everyone, shutting people out, is gonna fix anything? That’s not how it works.”

You felt the heat rising in your veins, every word coming out faster, more defensive. “You think I don’t know that? You think I want to be like this?” You paced, the anger seeping through every step. “I’m doing what I need to do. You have no idea what’s at stake.”

“Then make me understand,” Caitlyn demanded, her voice quieter now, though it carried an edge of urgency. “Because right now, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m worried about you. You’re shutting everyone out, and I don’t know if I can just stand by and let you destroy yourself.”

“I’m not destroying anything,” you repeated, the words feeling heavy, almost too much to say aloud. “You don’t get to dictate what I do, Cait. Not now, not ever.”

The room seemed to grow colder, tension hanging in the air like a thick fog. Vi shifted on the couch, but she didn’t say anything—just waiting, silent but present.

You could feel Caitlyn’s gaze on you, her concern still there, but you didn’t want it. Not now. “I don’t need your help,” you muttered, your voice cold. “I don’t need anyone’s help. So just... back off.”

There was a long silence between you, Caitlyn’s eyes searching yours for any sign of the person she used to know. But you were too far gone, too protective of your own choices, your own reasons. You didn’t owe her an explanation. You didn’t owe anyone one.

Without saying another word, you turned toward the stairs, brushing past Caitlyn and Vi without a second glance. You didn’t care if they understood. You didn’t care if they were pissed.

You were done trying to explain yourself to them. of making up lies and poor excuses.

It was the day after the fight, and everything still felt like it was on the edge of breaking. You could still hear Caitlyn’s words echoing in your head, the hurt in her voice cutting through you like a knife. The argument had been brutal—words thrown like weapons, accusations you couldn't escape. You didn’t want to confront Caitlyn. Hell, you didn’t even want to deal with any of it, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized you were being pulled in two directions. One part of you was holding onto what was familiar—what was safe. The other part was ready to burn it all down just to feel something real.

That something real was Jinx.

You'd spent the night restless, your thoughts a whirlwind of guilt, frustration, and the constant pull toward the chaos she brought. So here you were now, slipping through the winding alleys of Zaun, where the grime and industrial decay hid you from the world.

You'd barely registered how you ended up here—at the alleyway where Jinx always seemed to show up at the right moment. The dim glow of a flickering neon sign illuminated the darkness ahead, and you knew she was there. Jinx’s world didn’t follow rules. Everything she did was messy, raw, and chaotic, but that was where you wanted to be right now.

You turned the corner, your pulse racing. And there she was, hanging upside down from a rusty fire escape, laughing to herself as she spun around, her wild blue hair catching the light like a comet streaking across the night. She looked alive—reckless, untamed—and the sight made something inside you settle, as if you’d found your anchor in the madness.

When she saw you, her eyes lit up like fireworks. “You came!” she squealed, flipping down from the fire escape and immediately running toward you. She didn’t stop when she reached you—she wrapped her arms around you in a tight, playful hug, her body pressing against yours as if she couldn’t wait to be close.

“Of course I did,” you replied, smiling softly as you hugged her back. It was a relief to feel her warmth, her energy. “You okay?”

Jinx pulled back just enough to look at you, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Me? I’m okay, just like most of the time. But you…” She tilted her head, her fingers brushing against your arm. “You look like you’ve been thinking too much again.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing in your chest. “Maybe a little.”

“Then stop thinking,” she said, voice soft yet playful, her eyes searching yours. “Let me fix that.”

Before you could say anything else, Jinx leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was gentle at first, almost hesitant—like she was testing the waters, giving you a moment of comfort. Her lips moved slowly, sweetly, as her hand cupped the side of your face, her thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.

Your heart fluttered at the softness, the way she was taking her time, and for a moment, it was just you and her, wrapped in something sweet and simple. But then, as if a switch had flipped, the sweetness gave way to something deeper.

Jinx’s fingers tightened slightly on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss grew hungrier, more intense. You responded without thinking, parting your lips as her tongue slid against yours, coaxing you into a messier, wilder dance. The fire in her kiss ignited something inside you, something raw and reckless that matched the chaos she brought into your life.

You let out a breathless laugh against her mouth, and Jinx took it as an invitation, deepening the kiss with a mischievous grin. Her hands tangled in your hair as she pulled you even closer, her kiss growing more insistent, more passionate. It was as if the world around you had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in this whirlwind of heat and desire.

Jinx’s hands found your waist again, her fingers digging in as she pressed her body tighter against yours. Her lips parted, coaxing yours open as her tongue teased you in a way that was both playful and intense. Every inch of you seemed to burn where she touched, where she kissed, and all the tension from before melted away into this one moment of pure chaos and need.

You responded in kind, your hands tracing the curve of her back, pulling her against you until there was no space left between your bodies. She let out a soft sigh, pressing you into the wall beside her as she kissed you with an intensity that made your knees weak.

It felt like everything outside of this moment didn’t matter. The guilt, the confusion, Caitlyn’s hurt—nothing compared to the way Jinx made you feel. Alive. Wanted. Like you could forget everything else and just exist in this space with her.

But then the harsh sound of footsteps interrupted the perfect storm of chaos you’d created.

"What the hell is this?"

Caitlyn.

Jinx stood still for a moment, taking in Caitlyn’s reaction before a slow smirk spread across her face. “Well, well, if it isn’t big sis,” she purred, clearly enjoying the tension in the air. “Guess the cat’s outta the bag now, huh?”

“Cait…” you started, stepping away from Jinx, but the damage was already done.

Caitlyn’s gaze flickered between you and Jinx, her face a mix of disbelief and anger. “Is this what you’ve been sneaking off to Zaun for? To be with her?” she spat, her voice full of accusation. “You know what she is, what she does, and you still—"

“Whoa, hold up,” Jinx interrupted, taking a casual step forward, placing herself between you and Caitlyn. “Let’s get one thing straight. It’s not like she’s committed some huge crime—unless kissing me and having sex with me is suddenly illegal.” Her grin widened, her eyes sparkling with mischievous glee.

Caitlyn’s face contorted with fury as she shot a cold look at Jinx. “You think this is a joke, don’t you?” she snapped. “You’re a ticking time bomb, Jinx. A dangerous, reckless maniac with nothing but destruction in your wake. She’s nothing but another one of your toys to break.”

The words hit like a knife. Jinx froze, the grin dropping from her face as Caitlyn’s harsh accusations settled between you all.

Your heart clenched at the sight of the hurt that flickered across Jinx’s features, even though she tried to hide it. You couldn’t let it go on. “Cait, stop!” you interrupted, stepping forward, your voice stronger now as you positioned yourself beside Jinx. “She’s not your enemy.”

Caitlyn’s eyes darted toward you, disbelief mixing with the anger. “She’s using you! Can’t you see it? She’ll destroy you like she destroys everything she touches.”

“I love her,” you said firmly, your voice cutting through Caitlyn’s accusations.

Caitlyn blinked, her eyes searching yours for something—anything that could explain why you were making this choice. But there was nothing. Her gaze hardened, turning cold. “You love her?” she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hurt, rage, and heartbreak.

“I do,” you said firmly, not backing down.

For a moment, Caitlyn stood frozen, processing the words, the weight of them sinking in. Then, her lips curled into a bitter, angry sneer. “You’re choosing her over me? After everything I’ve done for you?” She shook her head, disbelieving. “You’ve gone too far this time.”

Jinx scoffed, crossing her arms, unfazed by the venom in Caitlyn’s tone. “ Jinx stepped forward again, a little of her old spark returning. “Oh, come on. You don’t own her, Caitlyn. She’s here because she wants to be.”

Caitlyn's jaw clenched. "You're dangerous. You're going to get her killed. She deserves better than you."

Jinx’s grin twisted into something darker, her gaze not leaving Caitlyn’s. “She’s with me because she wants to be, I didn’t drag her here kicking and screaming,” she said, each word punctuated with a dangerous edge. “And if you think you can just waltz in and control her, you’ve got another thing coming.”

The words hung heavy in the air. Caitlyn’s anger burned in her eyes, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of something else—fear, maybe, or desperation. But then, Caitlyn took a step back, her face contorting with a mixture of hurt and frustration. “If you think I’m going to just stand by and watch you drag her down with you,” she spat, “you’re wrong.”

Her voice dropped, the edge of it becoming cold and hard. “I’ll make sure the Enforcers know what you’ve done. I’ll see you locked away in Stillwater before I let you drag my sister down with you”. The threat landed with a chilling weight. Jinx didn’t flinch, but her expression shifted. There was no hesitation in her eyes. “You think the Enforcers are gonna stop me? You think they’re gonna “save” her from me?” Her voice was low and dangerous now, the spark of mischief fading for a moment, replaced by something darker. “You really don’t know who you’re messing with.”

Caitlyn’s lips curled into a tight smile, her voice trembling with fury. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you from tearing my sister apart.”

Jinx’s laugh was sharp, unbothered. “You’re already too late for that.” She took a step forward, closing the gap between her and Caitlyn. “She’s mine now.”

The words were final, like a declaration that sealed the fate of everything in the room. Caitlyn’s eyes hardened, her shoulders tensing as if preparing for something more. But then, she turned on her heel, her back stiff and her fists clenched at her sides.

“Don’t think this is over,” Caitlyn hissed, her voice dripping with menace. “You’ll regret this.”

She turned on her heel, disappearing into the darkness of the alley, leaving only the sound of her footsteps to echo in the tense silence that followed.

Jinx let out a long breath, her shoulders sagging slightly as the confrontation with Caitlyn came to an end.

The silence that followed was heavy, but Jinx’s hand found yours, her touch gentle despite the tension. She turned to you, her voice low and vulnerable. “Hey… you okay?”

You nodded, your chest tight from the confrontation. “I’m okay,” you whispered, squeezing her hand. “And I’m with you.”

Jinx’s eyes softened, her usual bravado replaced by something more tender as she leaned in, cupping your cheek gently. “I’ve got you,” she murmured, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead. “You’re not alone in this.”

You leaned into her touch, finding comfort in her presence, the intensity of the moment fading into something warmer. "I know," you whispered back. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Jinx’s smile widened, her hand still cradling your face as she kissed your forehead again. “Good,” she whispered. “Because neither am I.”

Jinx’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, her purple eyes searching yours as a small, teasing smile crept back onto her lips. “You love me, huh?” she asked quietly, her voice a mix of playful disbelief and genuine curiosity.

You felt your cheeks flush at the question, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you smiled softly, nodding. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I do.”

Jinx’s smirk softened into something warmer, more real. She leaned in closer, her forehead gently resting against yours as she let out a quiet chuckle. “Damn,” she murmured. “I never thought I’d hear someone say that to me.”

You couldn’t help but smile wider at her vulnerability, reaching up to cup her face in your hands. “Get used to it,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Jinx closed her eyes for a moment, taking in your words like they were something precious. When she opened them again, they were filled with a kind of warmth that made your heart ache in the best way. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she whispered, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

For a moment, everything else faded away—Caitlyn’s harsh words, the tension, the world around you. It was just the two of you, wrapped in a quiet moment of sweetness, a rare peace in the chaos of it all.

And as Jinx pulled back slightly, her fingers still intertwined with yours, she grinned. “Guess I’m stuck with you now, huh?”

You laughed softly, nodding. “Guess so.”

“Good,” Jinx murmured, her voice full of affection. “Because I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx x y/n #arcane jinx #jinx/you #jinx x fem!reader #jinx posting #jinx league of legends #jinx smut #jinx lol #jinx #arcane #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn kiramman

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thehoneybeestings · 1 month ago

Text

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 𝐢𝐢

𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚!𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐚!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

୨ৎ 𝐩𝐭. 𝐢

‧₊˚── Synopsis: A year of the baker by Sevika's side, but the baker still has no bite. This bodes questions from certain ill-intentioned alphas, and Sevika must decide if she's ready to answer them.

Word Count: 5.7k Content/Warnings: omegaverse! if it's not your thing don't read it; nsfw, top!sev, bottom!reader, soft dom!sev, reader is referred to w fem terms/pronouns, reader has female anatomy, sev has a dick, breeding kink, brat!reader if you squint, sub space if you squint, dom drop if you squint, blood, reader is harassed but nothing intense or explicit A/N: holy hell. note to self: do not write a fic you actually really like or you will drive yourself crazy trying to make it's sequel perfect. anyhow, here is said sequel after nearly two months! i'm so sorry this took so long, but i truly do love this series and care just as much about the character exploration as i do the smut, so i really hope the wait was worth it! thank you SO much for all of the love on pt. i, and as always, enjoy!

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

Sevika slides into the booth tucked in the bar’s back corner.

In a practiced manner, her eyes scan the room. Over her shoulder to the stairs leading up to her apartment. To the wrought iron door at the front of the room. Left to the bar, right to the bathrooms.

She smirks in approval of The Last Drop’s Friday night debauchery, settling in like the foundations of a home well-loved. She reaches for the leather-bound cigar case you’d gifted her a few months back. She keeps the note that had accompanied it in her wallet; a folded piece of pink stationery scribbled in handwriting she’d learned so well after over a year of watching you furiously jot down recipes and grocery lists. “consider this a token of my gratitude and an apology for making you stay up until midnight to taste cupcakes… it most definitely will happen again. :) <3”

Her cigar teeters in her mouth as a wicked grin spreads across her lips. “You boys are so screwed,” she mumbles, lighting the cigar as she glances down at the game of blackjack in progress. “Whatever,” one of her future opponents jeers, “we’re just warming up. Waiting for your ass.” She chuckles through her nose, relishes in the smooth burn of smoke escaping with it.

“Yeah? Well, yours is about to get handed to you. Give ‘em here.”

Oxidised copper glints in neon green light as she reaches for the deck of cards to deal a new round, accompanied by the grumbles of her competition claiming she’s “just going to rig the game again.”

She chortles again, blows a ring of smoke out of her mouth, inhales, and, The smell of honeysuckle.

She turns back to face the stairs again, a nearly untraceable smile gracing her lips as she awaits your descent. A voice like honey to match as you round the corner, beaming when you finally catch sight of her. “She’s out like a light,” you declare, recalling the sight of the girl you'd just put to bed, all snuggled up and holding her favorite blanket as tight as she had been when Sevika found her. “She’s had a big day,” Sevika shrugs.

It had been a big day for the now six-year-old, what with all of the birthday celebrations that had ensued.

Just a few months ago, it dawned on Sevika that Isha had been around for over a year now, but that they’d never celebrated her birthday. It’s unbeknownst to most that tucked away beneath all of her brooding and brawn lies Sevika's firmly held belief that every birthday should be celebrated. She still tries to feign indifference to the occasion, but after a long night of experimenting with different buttercream frosting recipes and a few-too-many glasses of red wine, you’d learned that since her parents’ passing, Sevika always tries to do a little something to honor each of her years. She’d finish off a bottle of her father’s favorite whiskey in her darker days, or recreate her meal from her mother’s recipe book when things felt lighter.

More than anything, her birthdays were a chance to pay homage to her parents. An acknowledgment that not everyone gets the privilege of another year; a promise that she isn’t wasting the time she’s been gifted. That she's using each and every year she gets to make them proud.

This past year- and for the first time since she was 15- Sevika wasn’t alone for her birthday.

Instead, she pulls at the chain of the neon “Open” sign in your bakery’s window, switching it off as you lay eyes on your planner one last time.

You tsk, shaking your head and grabbing a pen to jot something down on the color-coded calendar. “I have to get powdered sugar tomorrow,” you muse, “don’t let me forget.”

“10-4,” she replies, sauntering over to you with an amused grin as she watches you chew your bottom lip; something you always do when you’re focused. She leans down to mirror your position, placing her elbows on the counter and her chin in her palm.

“Oh- and it’s Doris’s birthday on Sunday! I’ll swing by and drop something off for her… she really likes cinnamon rolls…”

You’re talking to yourself. Sevika still hangs onto every word. A smile stretches across her lips, slow and lazy. Her eyes follow your mindless ministrations; the way you twirl your pen with your dominant hand, the way the other taps rhythmically on the cool granite beneath it, the way you click the pen twice every few moments-

“When is your birthday?”

The question pulls her out of the trance she'd unwittingly fallen into. “Oh… uh…” She knows she’s about to get in trouble for not having told you. She also knows that following the trouble she’s about to get into, you’ll immediately make a fuss about making sure the day is properly celebrated, that she feels properly appreciated. The thought makes her heart ache. You already make her feel that way every day. She can’t stand to ask you for more. Alas, she knows better than to rob you of the opportunity to dote. She grabs your wrist- gentle and gingerly as always- and peers down at the watch face adorning it.

“Well, I was born at 7:02 p.m., so technically, it’s in… 42 minutes?” A bashful smile breaks out on her face, her hands coming up to cover it.

“Sevika!”

Her name on your lips. She’ll take it any way she can get it, even if it means you’re scolding her because now, you don’t have time to make her favorite dessert. So, she lets you fuss, lets you sing her happy birthday and demand that she make a wish before she blows her candle out, and ends up crying over a slice of carrot cake because it’s been over 20 years since someone cared about this day as much as she does. It wasn’t long after that night that Sevika had her realization about Isha’s own birthday. She spent the next few weeks searching high and low for a certificate of Isha’s birth, or even just information on where she came from; who her parents were, where they lived, and if they might have had relatives who might know about Isha and when she was born. You never had the heart to tell her that she was setting out on a mission made nearly impossible by Zaun’s lack of record-keeping; partially because you figured Sevika could use any and all slivers of hope when and wherever she could get them, and partially because you figured that deep down, she already knew it was a lost cause.

The two of you are folding laundry on a Sunday afternoon when she finally concedes that she may be out of luck. Her shoulders are slouched in defeat, and her lips are pursed in thought as she thumbs over the silk tag on Isha’s favorite blanket. I get why she does this, she thinks. It does feel nice.

Her gaze falls down to the silk tag between her thumb and pointer finger, and suddenly, she sits up straight.

Your anticipatory gaze is already on her when she speaks.

“She turns six next week.”

Your brows knit together in confusion.

“Are the prophetic visions new? Or…” Sevika doesn’t answer; just thrusts the blanket toward you, and lo and behold, there it is. Written in black ink on the butter-yellow baby blanket’s tag:

Isha

5-15-2019

The revelation unearths a side of Sevika you’ve never seen. By the time May 15th rolls around, her apartment is covered in confetti, balloons, and stuffed animals wearing party hats; all Sevika’s doing. But, naturally, a birthday party for Isha is nothing without a batch of her favorite blueberry muffins, and you’re more than happy to deliver.

The recent memory of wiping sugared blueberries from the corners of the girl’s mouth pops into your head, and a warm smile appears on your face.

“She sure did,” you agree with Sevika, placing a hand on her shoulder as you take your seat beside her. “I’m gonna get a drink in a second; do you-” Sevika’s eyes are still trained on her cards as she slides a vodka-cranberry over to you. “You take such good care of me,” you purr, and she glances over at you with a smirk and a cocked brow that says, ‘Careful.’

You know exactly what you’re doing. You know she gets off on taking care of you.

You innocently shrug your shoulders as you wrap your lips around the two tiny straws in your drink. She chuckles, as always, because, “you know those are for stirring, not for sipping, right?”

Tonight, she makes no comment, letting you sip through your too-small straws in peace in exchange for focusing on the cards in her mech hand and the grip the other has on your thigh.

The grip that tightens a few rounds later when the table’s sore loser is replaced by a newcomer.

He’s a patron she’s yet to come across. An alpha she's yet to come across. It's unusual. Unexpected. Sevika isn’t fond of the unexpected.

She’s less fond of the way his eyes seem to be drinking you in, and the way you seem to stiffen underneath his ogling.

“Mind if I join?” he queries.

She might have already slapped this man's cocky grin off of his face if you weren’t to her right, already noticing the clench of her jaw that he doesn’t yet know is a threat.

You wrap your arm around hers, thumb rubbing circles into the taut muscle of her forearm. ‘It’s okay,’ your touch says. ‘Calm down. I’m okay.’

You read her so well that, sometimes, she thinks you might be telepathic. She relaxes under your wordless comforts so quickly that you think the same of her.

All she offers the man is a grunt and a single nod toward the empty seat in front of him. Her eyes don’t leave him for a second as he sits. She’s determined to solve this man like her morning crossword, and you nearly mistake the soft whir of her prosthetic for the sound of wheels turning in her head.

She shuffles the cards, deals two to each player at the table, lights a new cigar. She doesn’t take her eyes off of him once. She’ll kick herself when she finally does, because as soon as her icy gaze relents, he’s got questions, and they aren’t about the rules of the game.

“She yours for the night?” He asks. He cocks his head toward you, but the inquiry is for Sevika; an inquiry that earns him a deep scowl.

“She’s not a whore. Walk down the street and hang a left for that.”

“You would know, huh?”

Strike one.

The look she gives him this time around is scarier. It isn’t one of annoyance, of being mildly agitated. It’s chiding. Stony. The look she gives Jinx and Isha when the answer is no, and you’d better not ask again.

The man raises his hands in surrender, leans back in his chair with a lazy grin, and says he’s sorry, but you both know he’s happy to be making trouble.

“Just play the damn game, man,” another player bemoans. The rest of the table’s occupants are just here for whiskey and a card game, not to see Sevika beat the shit out of some random prick; and they all know the latter is exactly where this interaction is headed.

Unfortunately, it seems that said prick wants to get the shit beat out of him more than everyone else wants their whiskey and a card game.

“She’s real pretty,” he drawls, looking down at his cards.

“She’s not interested.”

Sevika notes a second strike, huffing out a laugh as dry as your words.

“Mouthy, too, huh? Back in my day, they didn’t let whores talk this much.” Three strikes, and you’re out. Sevika leans back with an eerie calmness. The rest of the table has already begun rising from their seats.

“Honey?” she purrs, pinching her cigar between two fingers and placing it on the ashtray at the center of the table, “You wanna go get us another round?” Sure, you’ll make yourself busy doing that, but that isn’t what she’s really asking you.

What she really asks is: “Can I beat his ass yet?”

Your sweet hum of confirmation says, “Yes….”

The kiss you place on her cheek before you head to the bar adds, “...And don’t go easy on him.”

You’re not even two feet away before you hear the sound of his chair scraping against the floor, his cries of protest as she grabs him by the collar of his leather jacket and drags him out to the dumpsters behind the building.

“New guys,” the bartender sighs, shaking their head as they get to work on a vodka-cran and whiskey served neat. “They never know when to stop.”

You’re already halfway through your drink when she returns, walking over to you. To the naked eye, she’s completely unassuming; you’d think she just went to take a piss. The splatter of blood on the collar of her shirt says otherwise, but it’s not like she’d let anyone but you get close enough to notice it.

The blood stain isn’t what grabs your attention, though. Instead, it’s the look in her eye, the furrow of her brow, the small frown pulling down at her dark lips.

Uncertainty.

Sevika is never uncertain after a fight.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, your voice low and urgent.

She clenches her jaw, shakes her head, exhales sharply through her nose.

“Nothing. Just tired.”

Your eyes narrow.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night. I should probably stay at my place with the girls tonight. You know, make sure they get to Doris’s alright in the morning.”

You nod, letting her get away with thinking you take her words at face value, but the entire point of having Doris watch the kids was to spend time with each other; to be together, not apart. For all intents and purposes, Doris was like a mother to you, and for all intents and purposes, you’d become something like a mother to Jinx and Isha yourself, so Doris had offered to start keeping the girls every other weekend.“Let me watch the grandbabies,” she’d warmly insisted, “You two deserve the break every once in a while.”

That was the point. That the girls would go off to Doris’s for a few days, and you and Sevika would indulge in some much-needed alone time. But now, for the first time in over a year, Sevika’s asking to sleep alone.

You let her. You know better than to push too hard when she’s closing up.

But never, in her guardedness or uncertainty, does Sevika neglect to take care of you, and when she still insists on walking you home, a weak smile breaks out on your face.

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

You let Sevika sulk for two days before you show up at her doorstep with a slice of carrot cake and a stern request for an explanation.

You’re not ignorant of the drawbridge Sevika tends to raise when she feels powerless, but this is the longest you’ve ever waited for it to come back down, and you can’t help but worry that, maybe, you’ve done something wrong.

Her face falls when you admit this, and she knows it’s time to let you back in. You sit across from each other at her small kitchen table, her eyes downcast, but her hand still stretching across the unstained wood to grasp your own. You rub slow, firm circles into the back of her hand, the motion steady and reassuring. Exactly what you are to her.

“You remember that asshole at the bar the other night?” “Unfortunately,” you deadpan. “You fucked his shit up, right?” She snorts, her lip curling up into a smirk. She doesn’t need to tell you that of course she did.

Her smirk falters. There it is again; uncertainty.

“He just, uh… he said something that kind of got under my skin.”

He was already pinned up against the wall and his nose was already broken when he got these final words in:

“You fight like she belongs to you,” he'd jeered, “but I didn’t see a bite.”

To say this got under her skin was a massive understatement. It rocked her. So much so that she felt the ground underneath her feet quake, and the world she’d built around you fracture.

She realized in that moment that she holds you the way she does, so gentle and gingerly, because she’s afraid she’ll drop you and you’ll shatter. That everything you have will crumble, that she’ll realize none of this is real;

Because he was right. You don’t have her bite. You aren’t really hers.

“How so?” you ask, your voice so soft amidst the one she’d been chastising herself with for the past two days.

She rubs her temples, mulling over your question with a deep sigh.

“I don’t know… I mean, don’t you feel like we’re just playing house sometimes? I mean, don’t get me wrong, It’s not that I-” She interrupts herself with a huff, and you squeeze her calloused hand, encouraging her to continue.

“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to be with you; to be around you, and for you to be around the girls… but I just… I don’t know.” She does know. She’s just terrified to say it.

You give her a knowing smile.

But you don’t fill in the gaps; you don’t finish the sentence for her.

You’re going to make her say it.

And finally, she does.

“I want more.”

Your hand freezes, but your grip remains firm. Your eyes are glued to her own.

You’re still here. You’re still steady, still constant, but you need her to be sure.

“You want more?”

Her shoulders slouch as she sharply exhales, her brows knit together, and you swear you hear her whine.

“I don’t want to play pretend anymore. I want you to be mine.”

You nod, slow and knowing. A pregnant pause settles over the kitchen table until,

“Bite me, then.”

Her expression doesn’t change, but her pupils blow wide and her jaw ticks.

“If you want me to be yours, make me yours.”

Her voice is damn near an octive lower when she speaks again.

“And you know what you’re asking for?” “If I haven’t made it clear that I want a life with you, then I’m sorry for not being forward enough,” you chortle. “I want to be yours, Sevika. I want you. Now.”

She stands with a relieved chuckle. “Now?”

“Right now,” you repeat with a giggle, rising to meet her.

“Right now? Right here? And ruin my handmade kitchen table?”

She’s bending you over it anyway.

“You seem to have made up your mind already,” you challenge, pushing back against broad hips. She grabs at the flesh of your own, leaning down to place a kiss on your jaw before she mutters,

“I’ve had my mind made up since the day we met, sugar.” Her hands smooth over the swell of your ass, kneading at the juction of your thighs just below it before sliding the soft fabric of the white sundress she’d bought you up to pool around your waist.

And then, she’s kneeling before you; like you’re her altar, and she’s come to leave an offering.

She tugs your underwear down and tastes you like it’s worship.

Her hands find purchase wrapped around your legs, and her tongue works through dewy petals in slow, purposeful strokes, lapping up the nectar pooling at your core. She swirls her tongue around your clit like the cubes of ice she’d put in her vodka-cran earlier. She hates vodka-crans, but she missed you more, and when she tries hard enough, she can convince herself she’s tasting the too-sweet cocktail on your mouth instead.

But nothing makes her tispy quite like tasting you does, and she doesn’t stop until she’s drunk off of you.

You cry out, high-pitched and broken, and she pulls her mouth off of you with a pop.

She stands up, turns you around, looks down at you with lidded eyes and glossy lips tugging up into a smirk. “Why’d you stop?” You pant, brows pulling together.

“Missed your face,” and she’s so dizzy off of your pussy, she’s damn near slurring her words.

You scoff in amusement, pulling her in for a taste of your own arousal. “You’re such a lover boy,” you muse against her lips.

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” she replies.

“Is that right?”

She quirks a curious brow at the sound of your wicked purring.

“And if I want you to be inside of me?”

Darkened eyes peer down at you with a new hunger.

“What you say, goes, baby.”

She reaches down to tap the back of your thigh in a wordless command, and you wrap your legs around her waist. She buries her head in the crook of your neck, shamelessly inhaling the scent of honeysuckle and musk as she carries you to her bedroom and lays you out onto soft sheets and silk pillow cases.

“They’re so much better for your hair,” you’d excitedly explained as you shoved them into the cart.

“What you say, goes.”

She’d said it and meant it then, too.

Your hands are tugging at her belt now. You pull her in, muttering something about how much you missed her, how badly you want her.

She yanks it off in one quick, fluid motion. You make even quicker work of unbuttoning her pants, sliding them off of broad hips and long legs, and throwing them toward the pile of clothes already discarded on the floor.

When she sits back on her heels to take her shirt off, you do the same, reaching for the hem of your pretty white dress.

“Uh-uh,” she suddenly chimes, “leave that on.”

You chuckle, leaning back on your elbows as you watch her strip her last layers of clothes off.

She’s a bronze statue, sculpted by the Gods themselves, glimmering in the golden hour light spilling through her windows. Your jaw is slack, eyes heavy as you drink her in. They dart from feature to feature; the stray tendrils of thick, black hair falling around her strong jaw, the glittering scar spreading across her skin like lightning, the swell of her breasts and the cut of her waist, the dark trail of hair leading straight down to her length, hot and heavy, already weeping for you.

Your eyes snap up to meet her own, and when they do, she pounces.

Just as ready to ruin you as you are to be ruined.

You gasp into a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue. She only pulls away to breathe, dazed eyes drinking in your features.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty…”

She plants a kiss on your nose. “You know that?” Another on your cheek. “Such a pretty girl.” Chaste kisses trail across your jaw, teeth find the lobe of your ear, an open-mouthed kiss is pressed against your neck. “Can’t wait to watch you fall apart. So fuckin’ pretty when you fall apart.”

A broken whimper escapes you. You feel her smirk against your throat.

“Yeah?” She croons, tongue darting out to slide over your windpipe. “You want me to take you apart, baby?”

You whisper a “please,” subtle as the twitch of your hips.

It’s all the begging she’ll let you do for the rest of the night. Being loved by Sevika means wanting for nothing, and she’ll be damned if you ever have to beg for the pleasure she was put on this earth to give you.

She reaches over for the bottle of lubricant on the nightstand, and you’re already spreading your legs for her.

“Somebody’s eager,” She teases, stroking her erection and spreading the clear gel over its length.

“Just missed you,” you pant, all but drooling as you watch her prepare herself for you.

A pang of guilt shoots through her. She knows you don’t mean anything by it, knows you aren’t trying to make her feel bad for closing off, running away.

Still, she feels bad anyhow. Knows you didn’t deserve that. Props herself up with her free hand, lines up with the entrance of your heat, and vows to make it up to you.

She drives her hips forward, bottoming out inside of you. You both gasp, and she stills inside of you, gritting her teeth and trying her best to stay calm despite the rhythmic pulse of your walls around her cock begging her to ravage you.

She sure as hell could- and she sure as hell wants to- but just as always, she puts you first.

Your breath quickens as the sensation of being so full proves overwhelming, and her hand snakes up from your hip to splay across your chest.

“Breathe for me, sugar,” she lowly coos. “You’re okay.”

She gives you a soft smile and gentle praise when you obey, her palm warm against your skin as it trails up to cup your jaw. She leans down, body caging your own.

“You ready?” She asks, her mech hand reaching down to hook your leg up and around her waist.

The pulse of your heat around her speaks for you.

“Janna above,” she chortles, letting her head fall down to nestle into your shoulder, “I’m really trying to keep it together, here.”

You lace your fingers through the soft strands of hair at the nape of her neck and turn to place your lips on the shell of her ear. Then, you whisper, low and dangerous.

“I don’t want you to keep it together. Fuck me like you mean it.”

A growl against your neck, sharp canines scraping the skin, and the delicious pressure of the head of her dick against your cervix, all at once.

If this is how it starts, you can’t wait to see how it ends.

Your grip on her tresses tightens as she sets a punishing pace, snarling in your ear.

“You gonna tell me if it’s too much?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage through airy moans.

“Good. You gonna remember you asked for this when you can’t walk straight tomorrow?”

You giggle, dazed and blissed-out.

“Answer me, baby,” she warns, gripping your jaw like a vice, the metal cool against your flushed cheeks.

You bite your lip, bat your lashes, and nod with wide eyes, feigning innocence.

You’re being testy tonight. It isn’t the first time it’s happened.

Out in public, you’re the picture of patience. You never lash out, you never raise your voice, you’re never petty or passive-aggressive. Unyieldingly, frustratingly patient.

She quickly discovers why. Learns that it isn’t for your lack of a backbone, but because you’re patient enough to wait for moments like these, when all she wants is your surrender, your submission.

That’s when you bite back.

It’s not like she can blame you. She knows you're upset that she all but left you for almost three days, and knows this is your way of telling her.

And if you want your apology in the form of being fucked dumb, it’s not like she’s going to say no.

She chuckles back, grabs the back of both of your thighs, presses them to your chest, and pounds into you until you scream.

It isn’t long before you’re a mess underneath her. Legs trembling, eyes rolling back, blabbering. She watches you slip into euphoria, and quick strokes turn languid.

“Look at me, love,” she rasps, setting your calves on her shoulders; and when your eyes flutter open, you find her staring back with pure adoration.

“You okay?” She nods.

“I’m okay,” you nod back. “Love you s’much…”

And her heart nearly breaks.

She leans down, shushing you softly when you mewl at the feeling of her sinking even deeper into you.

She’s pressed right up against your womb. You can feel her twitching inside of you.

That’s when it happens. That’s when you picture her filling you up, being swollen with her seed, and then with her babies; and suddenly, you’re reaching down to rub at your own clit, fingers working frantically, hips bucking desperately.

And you’re pushing her head down into your shoulder.

“Use your words, honey,” she pants, rutting into you. “Not until you use your words.”

She doesn’t let you beg. Only makes you say it once.

“Bite me, Sevika.”

And what you say, goes.

Sharp canines sink into soft skin. Suddenly, you’re standing behind the counter, wiping flour-covered hands onto a blush-colored apron, letting her know that Isha’s safe. Then, you’re sitting on a barstool in your kitchen, sipping wine and writing down an updated recipe for your famous carrot cake, because she swore it was better with more cinnamon. Next, you’re giving her a slice of that same cake for her birthday, and then you’re doing laundry together, knocking over piles of folded clothes to make out like a couple of teenagers.

Finally, you’re curled in up in ball on your bed, surrounded by every pillow and blanket you could find, and the hand that rubs soothing circles in between your shoulders ends up pressing you down into the sheets as your velvet walls spasm around her length.

The flash of memories is so vivid, she nearly forgets that she’s seven inches and two canines deep inside of you, but the cry of her name from your lips sobers her like a splash of cold water in the face, and when she finds you just as inundated in an earth-shattering orgasm, her own is quick to follow.

She cums with her teeth still planted in your neck. Doesn’t pull away until both of you are boneless and breathless.

When she does, her eyes are glued to the mark she left. Droplets of dark red bead up on your skin in the shape of her bite. You don’t miss the way her eyes widen, the way her breath hitches, and when she brings her fingers up to her lips to feel for blood, you realize she’s afraid she’s hurt you.

“Hey, hey,” you quickly plead, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “I’m okay, Sev. I’m not hurt. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You sure?” She exhales, eyes still locked onto the fresh wound as she lets you pull her in to lie on your chest.

“Look at me, angel,” you coo.

She tears her eyes away from the bite and cranes her head to look up at you with glassy eyes.

You’re not surprised that Sevika seems so overwhelmed; that she trembles in your arms, that her breath comes out shaky as it evens out. You’d always heard that giving a bite can be just as intense as getting one, so you went into this more than ready- more than willing- to walk Sevika through whatever that looked like for her.

You stroke her hair, trace the strong lines of her face, press your thumb into the tight muscle of her scarred shoulder.

“I’m sure,” you finally respond. “I promise.”

She finally relaxes in your hold. Settles in like the foundations of a home well-loved.

You fall asleep first. She’s careful as she stands to make her way to the bathroom, where she dampens a rag and grabs a first-aid kit. Her heart feels so big she’s afraid it’ll burst as she gently wipes away at the mess between your thighs and disinfects the bite on your neck.

She lies back down next to you, drapes an arm around your waist, and for the first time since she started taking them, she wearily eyes the bottle of suppressants on her nightstand.

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

The discovery of Isha’s 6th birthday meant the realization that it was time to send her to school. Sevika knows it’s a necessity, an important milestone, an inevitable part of life when you choose to raise a child.

That doesn’t make it any less difficult; doesn't change that tears prick her eyes as she walks out of Piltover Elementary, having just dropped the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed girl off for her first day of first grade.

“Don’t cry, mama,” you smile, squeezing her hand as she turns once more to look up at the opulent school building. It hadn’t been easy, deciding to enroll Isha in a school Topside, and Sevika would be lying if she said her ego hadn’t been a bit wounded for it. Still, she’d be damned if Isha didn’t have access to the best education there was in the safest place there was, and right now, that was Piltover Elementary.

You promised her it’d be just fine, that she’d be right across the street all day at the Council’s headquarters, and she promised herself to use all of that time fighting for better education in Zaun.

She knows it’s the right choice. Knows Isha will do great. But no one prepared her for how hard it’d be to have a piece of your heart walking around outside of your body.

She didn’t think she’d ever have that; didn’t even think she wanted it, but now, she’s watching a line of Pre-K students with bookbags too big for their tiny bodies trail up to the front doors of the school, and a smile is tugging at her lips.

You read her mind. Nudge her arm. When she looks over at you, you wear a knowing smile of your own.

“What?” She mutters, looking away bashfully.

“You want more babies, don’t you?”

She’s getting ready to scoff and brush off such a ridiculous assumption, but then, one of the kids figures out how to blow a raspberry, and a chorus of high-pitched giggles rings out.

She sighs in defeat.

“I want more babies.”

──˚₊ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ‧₊˚──

Taglist: @mewl3tte, @tsubiki, @lia-winther, @mommyissuesismypersonality, @hbwrelic, @ahintofchaos, @djstinkyfartz, @sevikaswifeomm, @rareanduselessbird, @livslifeonline, @sevikas-baby, @strawberrylipglossx, @sillylittlejellyfish, @sevikaovipositee

(i tagged everyone who expressed interested in pt. 1; if you'd like to be removed, just shoot me a comment or a message and i'm more than happy to do so, no hard feelings!)

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika x y/n #sevika imagine #sevika oneshot #sevika smut #alpha!sevika #arcane smut #arcane oneshot #arcane imagine #sapphic #lesbian #wlw #arcane #arcane au #sevika au #omegaverse #arcane omegaverse

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helaintoloki · 11 months ago

Note

Hey I want to request something since I saw your request was open. So can you do a fic where five and y/n ( they are already married) end up in the deli with the other fives.

Basically there are only few fives that have a y/n but she's died in their timeline. So basically it's just the other fives wanting to know more about her abd the fives telling their stories of their y/n

Y/n absolutely loves the attention she almost sequeled when she saw the other fives lol.

a/n: so this actually ended up turning into a more depressing piece than i planned LOL but the original intention is there

warnings: language, angst, mentions of death, light amount of fluff

summary: your search for answers leads you to a deli with multiple versions of your husband inside

As the danger of the impending apocalypse finally begins to sink in for Five, he realizes he needs to get you somewhere safe until he figures out a way to stop the world from ending. Thus, while his siblings continued to fight off the monstrous cleanse that was Ben and Jennifer, Five quickly grabbed hold of you and jumped you both to the only place he could think of.

You stumble over your own feet as your body adjusts to being dropped into a new setting, your hand quickly raising to shield your eyes from the bright neons that hang above you as you take in your surroundings. A subway car comes to a screeching halt in front you, and before you can protest Five is quickly ushering you inside.

“Five, where are we?” You demand, completely disoriented from having been transported away from the fight without warning and preoccupied with worry at the thought of your family fighting against the Cleanse without you both present. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you somewhere safe where you can stay until I figure out how to undo this mess,” he instructs you hastily, his lips pulling back into an exasperated frown at your resistance to enter the subway car. He doesn’t have time for you to fight him on this, his siblings need him, and he needs you away from the fight. Though you’re skilled at combat and wickedly smart, you don’t have powers, and Five can’t risk something happening to you while he’s preoccupied with saving the world.

“You’re leaving me?!” You exclaim in distress as panic immediately begins to take over your rational mind. You push against him harder to move away from the train, but despite all your efforts the boy doesn’t budge.

“It’s only temporary, I promise you,” he assures you, and when you shove him hard in the chest once more he tightly takes hold of your hands and brings them to his lips to comfort you. “I’ll take you somewhere nice, somewhere with a beautiful house and a garden full of strawberry bushes. I found it while exploring other timelines in search of clues on how to prevent the apocalypse, I know it’s safe because I went there alone. You can stay in the house until this is all over and I’ll come back for you.”

“Five, what if…” you swallow harshly as tears begin to well in your eyes, your emotions overtaking you at the thought of this being goodbye, “…what if you don’t come back?”

Five refuses to meet your gaze when the question leaves your lips. He’d never lie to you, and he knows he can’t guarantee he’ll live long enough to join you in the peaceful timeline he’d found, but he doesn’t have the heart to voice this to you. How can he look you in your tear filled eyes and tell you that this might be the last time you’ll be together as husband and wife?

Sighing, he releases your hands in exchange for cupping your face so that he may brush away the tears that slide down your warm cheeks. He hopes that one day you’ll be able to understand that every moment leading up to this has been for you, and he would happily die a hundred times over if it meant keeping you safe. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

You open your mouth to argue only to snap it shut when your gaze falls over his shoulder and lands on another figure in the subway. You blink away your tears to get a better view and are left speechless when you realize you’re staring back at the face of your husband.

But how can that be when he’s standing right in front of you?

Noticing your change in demeanor, Five follows your gaze and spots the lookalike that stands across the way from you both. His features contort into confusion as you both watch the second Five offer you a wave in greeting before disappearing down the stairs. Exchanging looks of uncertainty, Five and yourself immediately rush after the doppelgänger to figure out just what exactly is going on.

Your quick chase leads you both to the front doors of a deli, the dazzling sign above welcoming you warmly as you cautiously open the doors and set foot into Max’s despite Five’s protests to wait. If this other Five has the answers you need to return home safely together, then you’ll stop at nothing to get them.

Your originally confident demeanor quickly dwindles when the restaurant becomes deathly silent upon your entry. While you only expected to see one Five, you now find about twenty of them staring intently at you as you slowly walk towards the lookalike from the subway that waves you over to his table. Five is quick to rush after you and place a protective arm around your waist; you’re not the only one unsettled by their stares, and he feels uncharacteristically territorial in the presence of himself.

“Have a seat,” the subway lookalike offers with a gesture towards the empty space across from him, and you’re both quick to slide into the cushions at his command. “I’m glad you found me.”

“What is this place?” Your husband demands impatiently as another Five dressed in a waiter’s uniform approaches your table with three cups of coffee in hand.

“This is where all the Fives come after they decide to give up on figuring out a way to stop the apocalypse.”

As he speaks, a plate of pie is suddenly placed in front of you, and before you can even open your mouth to question it, the waiter offers you wink and assures you, “It’s on the house.”

Picking up the fork, your eyes widen in surprise as you realize what specific dessert has been given to you. Looking up at the Five across from you, you ask, “How did he know that-“

“Pumpkin pie is your favorite?” The lookalike finishes for you with an amused smile before leaning back to take a drink of his coffee. “We all know that, because we all know you.”

“Me?” You repeat quietly, brows drawn together in confusion as you look to your husband who seems rather displeased with all of the attention you’re getting. He never once thought to think of himself as potential competition over you, but it figures. Who better than himself to sweep you off your feet?

“Mind telling me why you all seem to have such a great interest in my wife?” Five demands with a wry smile, eyes blazing with annoyance and a subtle hint of jealousy.

“‘Your’ wife?” The Five behind the deli counter scoffs in amusement. “Take a number, pal.”

“What deli Five means to say is that each and every one of us has our own y/n in our own perspective timelines,” the boy across from you clarifies before gesturing to the the back of the shop. Your eyes widen in shock as you take in all the various pictures of yourself that line the wall from top to bottom, and it takes you a moment to process the fact that various versions of you have existed throughout time unbeknownst to you.

“My y/n was a trained assassin,” the Five at the table next to you describes with a dreamy smile before biting into his sandwich.

“Mine was sent alongside Hazel and Cha Cha to kill me,” another voices while pulling down the collar of his shirt to showcase the ghastly scar on his chest. “She gave me this along with three beautiful kids before I screwed it all up with this end of the world bullshit.”

“If you all care so much about her then why did you give up trying to save the world?” Your husband protests in agitation. Your search for answers is going absolutely nowhere, and you’re both left with more questions than solutions. If these doppelgängers were really meant to be him from different timelines, then why did they quit so easily? His sole purpose, his entire being, was doing everything in his power to ensure the safety of his family. Come hell or high water, Five would always be willing to get his hands dirty if it meant you and his siblings lived to see another day. So why weren’t they doing the same? “Why come here instead of preventing the apocalypse so she has the chance to live a safe and happy life even if it means you can’t be in it?”

A forlorn silence fills the deli at his question, and now none of the Fives can find it in themselves to look at you. Their features are almost shameful, their eyes full of guilt and their shoulders full of tension as no one dares to answer.

“When us Fives find a way to save the world, y/n is the one that pays the price,” the boy across from you discloses somberly before tilting his head to meet your gaze. Looking at you is like looking at a ghost, and he has to stop himself from reaching out to you as if you are his own. “The Handler killed my y/n after discovering my betrayal of the Commission.”

Another Five raises a woeful hand before announcing, “Viktor killed my y/n on accident with his bow after he discovered his powers.”

“My wife took a bullet for me because she thought my life was worth more than her own.”

“Dad had y/n disposed of in my timeline because he saw her as a distraction to me and my siblings.”

“Cha Cha tracked us down, found our home, and burned it to the ground with y/n still in it while I was away trying to save the world.”

You swallow harshly and ignore the knots in your stomach at hearing all the violent ways in which other versions of you had met their end. Your heart aches at learning what these men have been through and how much they’ve lost, but it also makes you begin to wonder if your fate will be worse than any story they can come up with. Sensing your discomfort, Five wraps a comforting arm around your figure and pulls you closer into his side.

“No matter how many times I traveled back to make it right, the result was the same,” the boy across from you relents in a desolate tone. “If I couldn’t even keep the most important woman in my life safe then how could I expect myself to save the world?”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you murmur softly, taking it upon yourself to reach across for his hand and offer your comfort. “I’m sorry for all of your losses. But as a y/n myself, I don’t think she would have wanted you to give up. She would have wanted you to keep going in spite of her death because that’s what she loved about you- your strength and your resilience when it comes to saving the people you care about.”

“God, you sound just like her,” he comments with a doleful laugh before shaking his head and pulling his hand away. “Believe me, I did everything I could. But no matter what we do, there’s no escaping the apocalypse.”

“So that’s it? There’s nothing we can do?” Five retorts in disbelief. This was all a complete waste of his time. He’s nowhere near close to preventing the Cleanse, and you’re still not somewhere safe away from the impending apocalypse.

“You can enjoy the time you have left with your y/n,” the lookalike instructs firmly, the other Fives in the deli nodding along. “You got lucky, you still have your wife, so why don’t you do us all a favor and take her somewhere nice?”

“I’m not giving up on this,” your husband argues before hastily rising from his seat in the booth. “There has to be a way to save the world, and I won’t stop until I figure it out myself.”

You watch him stalk out of the deli with purpose as he slams the door open and begins to formulate his next move. The room is silent other than the bell that jingles above the door, and you take this as your cue to leave.

“I should probably go after him,” you admit with a meek smile before scooting your way out of the booth. The Five from the subway rises to meet you, and he can’t help but to carefully cup your face in his hands and admire your features for just a moment. This might be the last time he’ll ever get to see you in person, and he’d like to commit every detail of you to memory from the reflection of the light in your eye to the smell of your perfume.

“If he ever gives you any trouble, you know where to find us,” he instructs you firmly before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and releasing you from his hold. Smiling faintly, you return the gesture by chastely pressing your lips to his cheek before rushing off after your husband.

Who would have guessed that in every timeline, in every possible version of himself to exist, Five’s love for you knows no bounds.

#request #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #number five #five #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves imagine #number five x reader #number five imagine #five x reader #five imagine #tua #tua x reader #tua imagine

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tangyneon · 30 days ago

Text

inky, tawny, teddy!

Your tastes might be ridiculous... but Gojo's weakness for you?

Now, that's a whole new level of ridiculous.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader tags: teen!gojo; teen!reader; tooth-rotting fluff; humor; gojo and you have been engaged since childhood because of an agreement between his clan and yours; neither of you really knows what that means now; pining looks so cute on gojo; denial too looks good on him; vaguely unestablished relationship; vaguely long-distance relationship; word count—895. warnings: none. this is a sequel of sorts to 'lychee pops!', but please feel free to treat it as a stand-alone if you wanna!! notes: many people asked me to write more for these two, so here it is, my loves!! hope you'll enjoy reading this, babes!! ❤️❤️

It's 10:30 at night, and Gojo Satoru finds himself standing in front of a vending machine.

But not for a snack, nor for canned coffee, and certainly not for that disgusting hot corn soup Shoko loves to sip, as if it isn't some crime against humanity.

No—this is the kind of machine that feels like it should be in a forgotten corner of a forgotten festival. Or maybe in one of the small shops that sell foolish knickknacks—things people don't really need, but they buy anyway.

Lit up by a single neon light—flickering, at that—the machine hums. Gojo feels a chilly breeze rush through the alley, sending a shiver up his spine and lifting his hair a bit. The night smells of rain on asphalt, of exhaust and smoke, of city life and its restless hubbub.

All the while, the boy—who should technically be asleep in his dorm right now; who could be anywhere else in this large, loud city—stays standing before the vending machine. Staring at the capsules filled with cheap things, idiotic things, hands shoved deep into his hoodie pockets and his mouth tugged down into a frown that is not quite a frown anymore.

This is stupid, he tells himself. Very, very stupid.

And yet, he stays right there.

He lets his eyes scan the chart of little plastic prizes—frogs, hearts, cats, stars—until something catches his eye.

A tiny teddy bear keychain.

White as snow, with round ears, stubby arms, and two black bead eyes that somehow seem to be staring right back at him.

Oh, wow, he thinks dryly.

Because the second he sees it, he thinks of you. His mind goes to the way you'd tilt your head, smiling softly because it'd remind you of the teddy bear you lost when you were a tiny kid. Even without you here, Gojo can already picture your fingers wiggling in that ridiculous little wave, a silent "I want it".

You would lose it over this thing.

The thought makes his lips twitch. Only a bit. Before he heaves a sigh as though he is being forced into something painful—even though no one is watching, and nobody is making him do it.

Nearly reluctantly, he digs a handful of coins from his pocket, then feeds them into the machine one by one—carefully listening to each sharp clink of metal—as if he is paying some kind of penance, eager for it to be over.

Soon enough, the coins are gone. And the capsule drops with a light, hollow, echoing thunk. He sighs again, then squats, pops it open and lifts the keychain by its thin gold chain.

It looks even stupider up close—this tiny white bear, dangling in the air, catching the glow of the neon light above.

Gojo stares at it for a moment.

Then—only because he feels the need to, for some reason—he mutters under his breath, "You better love this, dummy."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Gojo wraps it up the next morning.

He's not any good at this kind of thing, though. But then again, it isn't like you are either, so he does not really care—not that the boy would have cared, were you good.

He simply scrounges up a bleak envelope, shoves the keychain inside with a bit of tissue he finds at the bottom of Geto's bag, then studies it. He grimaces, then adds a folded scrap of paper.

don't get weird about it. just saw it and thought of you. it's stupid—just like you.

Sealing it, he scrawls your name and the address of your clan's estate on the front in messy handwriting, then goes to drop it off in a nearby red post box before he can change his mind.

And then—well, Gojo heads to his classes and forgets about it.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Gojo does not actually forget about it.

He thinks about it, all day and all evening—until the moment he is sitting down with his dinner, and his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Half-eager, and half-ready to feign distraction and indifference, the boy flips it open—then pauses.

Your face fills his phone's screen—you and your bright grin, your shining eyes, and the tiny bear you're holding up beside you. As if it has made your entire day. As if it is already the most precious thing you own.

Gojo just stares at the photo.

For one beat. For two beats. Maybe for a whole minute��he is not sure, nor particularly bothered, truth be told.

His thumb hovers over the keys. He wonders if he should send back some smart remark. Or a joke.

Eventually, Gojo moves his thumb away, finding himself smiling—not his usual wide, mischievous ones, but something smaller. Maybe even realer. The kind of smile that sneaks up on the boy, softening his whole face without him meaning it to.

"Ridiculous," he mutters—but the word comes out unbearably fond, more a soft little laugh than a complaint.

He stares at the bear's dumb face for a second more. Then, shaking his head, he slides his phone back into his pocket, and leans back in his seat, eyes drifting to the inky sky outside the window.

Wondering already—already—what he can send you next.

Because if this is what it takes to see you smile so brightly from so many kilometres away, Gojo reckons he'll buy out the whole stupid vending machine next time.

#jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fanfic #gojo fanfic #jjk #gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #[tangyneon's works]

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i-heart-slashers · 2 months ago

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You're Mine and I'm Yours.

Here is part two as promised, David and Marko's sequels coming up soon.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Dwayne (Lost Boys) x Female Reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You find yourself irresistibly drawn to Dwayne after meeting him. He claims you as his in an intimate encounter within the shadowy depths of the cave.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.5k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: 18+ Explicit sexual content, smut, possessiveness, and cursing.

Part One.

As you walk with Dwayne, the neon lights grow dimmer, the crowd’s noise softening into a distant hum. The air is cooler here, near the edge where the planks meet the sand, and the ocean’s rhythm feels like a heartbeat under your feet.

Dwayne’s presence beside you is steady, grounding, yet electric—a paradox that makes your skin tingle. His hand brushes yours again, deliberate this time, and you feel the warmth of his touch linger, sparking something deep in your chest.

“You’re quiet,” you say, glancing at him, trying to break the tension that’s building like a storm. His dark eyes flick to yours, and there’s something raw in them, something that makes your breath hitch. He doesn’t smile, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s holding back.

“Got a lot on my mind,” he says, voice low, gravelly, like he’s choosing each word with care. His gaze lingers on you, tracing the curve of your jaw and how your hair catches the moonlight. You feel exposed and seen in a way that’s thrilling and terrifying all at once.

You stop walking, turning to face him near a weathered railing that overlooks the beach. The wind tugs at your clothes, and you’re hyper-aware of how close he is, the leather of his jacket creaking as he shifts his weight. “Like what?” you ask, bolder than you feel, your heart pounding.

He steps closer, close enough that you can smell the faint musk of leather and something darker, wilder, that makes your pulse race. “You,” he says simply, and the word lands like a spark on dry tinder. His hand lifts, slow, deliberate, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingers grazing your cheek. The touch is light but tingles, and you lean into it without thinking.

“Ever been out to the cliffs?” he asks, his voice low, rough, like he’s choosing each word with care. He’s leading you toward the quieter end of the boardwalk, where the crowds thin and the ocean’s rhythm grows louder.

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Not really. I’m more of a boardwalk-and-bonfires kind of girl.”

He nods a faint curve to his lips—almost a smile, but not quite. “C’mon. I know a place.”

You follow him, curiosity outweighing the slight prickle of caution. Your friends are probably still giggling by the stage but feel a world away.

Dwayne moves with purpose, his strides long but unhurried, and you step beside him, the night air cool against your skin. He leads you past the boardwalk, down a winding path toward the cliffs, where the sound of waves crashing against rock drowns out the distant carnival noise. The path dips, leading to a jagged opening in the earth—a cave hidden in the shadows of the bluff.

“Trust me?” he asks, pausing at the entrance, his eyes searching yours. There’s something vulnerable in his gaze, a crack in his otherwise stoic demeanor.

You nod, heart thudding. “Yeah.”

He takes your hand, his grip firm but gentle, and leads you inside. The cave is vast, its walls draped in shadows, lit by flickering candles and strung-up lanterns that cast a warm, golden glow.

It’s strangely beautiful, a mix of natural rock and scavenged relics—tattered curtains, old furniture, a record player spinning something soft and haunting in the corner.

You realize this is his home, or at least a piece of it, and the intimacy of being here sends a thrill through you.

Dwayne lets go of your hand, watching you take it all in. “Not what you expected?” he asks a hint of amusement in his tone.

“It’s… incredible,” you say, turning to meet his gaze. “You live here?”

“With my brothers,” he says, stepping closer carrying you down into the main cave before putting you on your feet when steady. “But tonight, it’s just us.” Your breath catches at the implication, the air between you thickening.

He’s close now, close enough that you can smell the leather of his jacket, the faint musk of something wilder beneath it. His eyes are locked on yours, and there’s a hunger there, but it’s tempered by something softer that makes your chest ache.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “This… pull.”

You swallow, nodding, because you do. It’s like a current, tugging you toward him, making your skin hum with something you can’t name. “What is it?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly.

He steps closer, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering. “You’re mine,” he says simply like it’s a fact carved in stone. “And I’m yours.”

The words hit you like a wave, and before you can process them, he’s leaning in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle and searing kiss. You melt into it, your hands finding his chest, fingers curling into the leather of his jacket.

The kiss deepens, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if he can’t bear any distance between you. You’re dizzy with it, with him, the world narrowing to the heat of his mouth, the press of his body against yours.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with want but still holding that quiet control. “Tell me you want this,” he says, voice rough but steady. “Tell me you want me.”

“I do,” you breathe, the words spilling out before you can overthink them. “I want you.”

That’s all he needs. He kisses you again, harder this time, and guides you backward until you’re against a pile of blankets and cushions in the corner of the cave, a makeshift bed that smells faintly of him.

He’s careful and deliberate, his hands roaming your sides, slipping under your shirt to trace the curve of your waist. Every touch is reverent, like he’s memorizing you, and you’re lost in the sensation, your hands tugging at his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders.

He shrugs it off, letting it fall, and you’re struck by the sight of him—lean muscle, the bracelet still on his wrist, his chest rising and falling as he watches you.

You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and his eyes darken, a low sound rumbling in his throat. He’s on you again, kissing your neck, your collarbone, his lips warm against your skin. You arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair, and he groans softly, the sound vibrating through you.

“Dwayne,” you whisper, and he pauses, looking up at you with awe.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, his hand sliding up your thigh, fingers brushing the edge of your shorts.

“Dwayne,” you repeat, and he kisses you, deep and hungry, as he works the button of your shorts free, sliding them down with a gentleness that makes your heart race. You’re bare before him, vulnerable, but there’s no fear—only want, only the certainty that this is right, that he’s right.

He sheds his own clothes, and you take in the sight of him, the planes of his body lit by the flickering light. He’s beautiful, otherworldly, and when he settles over you, his weight grounding you, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

His hand slides between your thighs, teasing, exploring, and you gasp, hips lifting to meet his touch. He’s slow and deliberate, watching your every reaction, and when his fingers find the spot that makes you moan, he smiles, a rare, genuine smile that makes your chest tighten.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear as he positions himself, his body warm and solid against yours. “Made for me.”

You nod, breathless, and when he presses into you, slow and careful, you feel that pull again, that bond snapping into place. It’s overwhelming, the fullness, the heat, the way he moves like he’s savoring every second. You cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders, and he groans, low and deep, his rhythm steady but building, each thrust sending sparks through you.

The cave fades, the world fades, and it’s just you and him, your gasps mingling with his, your bodies moving together like they were always meant to.

He’s gentle but firm, his hands gripping your hips and your thighs, guiding you as you meet him, the pleasure building until it’s almost too much. You’re trembling, on the edge, and he senses it, his lips finding yours as he pushes you over, your release crashing through you like a tide. He follows a low growl in his throat, his body tensing as he finds his own.

For a moment, you’re both still, breathing hard, his forehead resting against yours. The cave is quiet except for the distant drip of water, the flicker of candlelight casting shadows across his face. He brushes a kiss against your temple, his hand stroking your side, and you feel it again—that connection, deeper now, unbreakable.

“You’re mine,” he says again, softer this time, and you smile as your fingers trace the bracelet on his wrist.

“And you’re mine,” you whisper back, somehow knowing it’s true.

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fortunxa · 2 months ago

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. ݁₊ ⊹ . Jinx archive loaded ... ⊹ ₊ ݁.

»» .txt files [stories] ⊹ ࣪ ˖

BLUE HAIR, BLUE EYES, BLUE LIGHTS ; The chances of a blue-haired girl being chased by the cops and hopping in my car, simply yelling “Drive!” are low, but never zero.

↳ sequel — FOURTEEN DAYS ; They say the longer the wait, the sweeter the kiss. But, darling, I’m starving, so don’t keep me guessing.

JUST COME HOME ; In a mix of alcohol and jealousy, heartbreaks can get confusing.

THE SYMBOL ; “Piltover saw her as a terrorist, and Zaun’s rhetoric had twisted her into a martyr while she was still alive. She was a ghost haunting two cities, a myth both sides needed alive or dead.” Jinx. The loose cannon. The symbol.

THE SOUND OF HER ABSENCE ; Bravery wasn’t isn’t the noise nor the chaos—it was in the silence that stood still against the storm.

HOT & COLD ; Jinx and you are over—officially. But the lease says otherwise. Add a blizzard, a broken heater, one very unfortunate bed-sharing arrangement, and too many grudges to count. The blanket is thin, but the line between hatred and muscle memory is even thinner. Who knew emotional repression could be this warm?

»» install pack [series] ⊹ ࣪ ˖

Jinx x ballerina!reader (modern au) ; Y/N is quiet grace, a careful line drawn in the sand. Jinx is the tide, wild and unrelenting, crashing into her world with neon storms and laughter that feels like fire. Order meets chaos; calm meets wildfire. Yet Jinx’s rough hands hold her gently, and Y/N’s guarded heart softens in the storm.

»» pixelp0rn [nsfw] ⊹ ࣪ ˖

VIDEO CONNECTION

THESIS: DEVOTION

LOSING STREAK

»» brain.exe [headcanons] ⊹ ࣪ ˖

physical affection with Jinx

Jinx with a drummer!reader

Jinx’s take on birthdays

streamer!Jinx

.ᐟ.ᐟ cached extras under . . .

#ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 thoughts. . .

#⭑.ᐟ headcanons. . .

𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 — Powder masterlist ⭑.ᐟ

— images by @diana-foggy-master !!

#masterlist ⓘ #ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 thoughts. . .#⭑.ᐟ headcanons. . .#jinx x reader

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avocado-writing · 11 months ago

Note

Omg i love your poly Deadpool and Wolverine fics !! I especially love that reader is totally a sunshine ! Could you do any fic with them and that trope ? 😍

vague sequel to this

Your bad day has been utterly forgotten.

It’s not incredibly hard for them to cheer you up, Logan and Wade have learned. You’re so rarely sad that it’s hardly an issue anyway, but all they really need to do is redirect your energy into something else. A distraction to take your mind off of whatever’s gotten under your skin.

There’s a little carnival that’s set up near the apartment. One of those ones which is constantly on the move, overcharges for everything, and is exactly the kind of place you love. So it was a no-brainer to take you there for the evening.

Logan bought you a necklace made of hard candies, Wade took you on all the rollercoasters which were definitely not safe but you screamed with joy while riding. You’d insisted all three of you squeezed into a boat through the tunnel of love, and they’d come out the other side with your lipstick all over their faces, you smugly sandwiched between them.

And through the evening you’ve been fucking jubilant. Your laughter rolls like thunder, but the kind which means a storm is going to clear out the oppressive atmosphere of a muggy day. A sweet, loud kind of laughter which peals from your very soul. Wade and Logan catch each other’s eye as you absolutely decimate a stick of neon blue cotton candy: they’ve done well.

The three of you are preparing to go home when something catches your eye, slowing you to a stop as you stare. It’s a prize booth - the kind where you have to knock over a tower of tin cans to win. Hanging from the rafters are huge plushies of your favourite animal.

“C’mon baby, you know these games are rigged,” Logan sighs, aware he’s marching into a losing battle. You lick the sugar off of your fingers and dump the wooden stick into a garbage bin, eyes wide in the fluorescent lights of the bumper cars nearby.

“Aww… but they’re so cute…” you sigh, looking really disappointed.

Well, neither of them are ones to let that happen, so Logan and Wade find themselves speaking in unison when they say: “I’ll win you one.”

They exchange a look and you grin. Oh. This has become a challenge, and both are too stubborn to back down. Together they step up to the counter, each slamming five dollars down and making the poor teenager manning the booth jump.

“Uh, okay, you have two balls and need to knock the whole tower—”

The teen doesn’t even get a chance to finish their explanation before Logan has launched one of the pathetic beanbags at the cans with such force that it crumples a couple of them in half. They’re cleared off completely in one hit. The attendant can only gawp as he smugly points to one of the huge plushies which is dutifully fetched. You let out a little woop of joy as he passes it into your arms, giving Wade a look which says beat that.

Wade hums, throwing the beanbag up and down in his hand, testing its weight.

“Okay, well, not all of us are barbarians who need to use brute strength to compensate for our advanced age. It’s all about the finesse, pookie.”

Wade angles his throw so it bounces off the side wall, clearing all of the cans but one. Logan lets out a smug huff. Wade frowns.

“Hey, look, is that Spiderman doing full-frontal nudity?” he says, pointing into the distance, distracting the teen with one hand while he whips out a knife with the other and skewers the can to the back of the booth.

“Prize please!” he says when they turn back, turning pale at the sight of what’s been done to their game. They pass him another plushie from the roof with shaking hands, and Wade presents it to you with a flourish.

“That was cheating,” Logan states as the three of you walk away.

“Uh, I cleared the cans, old man. No cheating about it.”

“You had a second ball to throw,” you point out, and Wade pauses.

“Do you want the toy or not, sweetcheeks?”

And that is how you find yourself more stuffed animal than human, waddling out of the carnival with a huge smile and arms full of polyester. The whole thing is sort of ridiculous but, honestly, if you’re smiling? Logan and Wade can agree it’s totally worth it.

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

#my writing #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #x men x reader #logan howlett imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #wolverine fanfiction #mcu fandom #Deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader

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bettelaboure · 5 months ago

Text

⊹ No going back ⊹ | Choi Seung-Hyun

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• sequel to “Between the Spotlight and Shadows”

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ Pairing: Choi Seung-Hyun x Reader

⊹ Warnings: past negative sexual experiences, slow burn / sexual tension

⊹ Summary: after weeks of avoiding Seung-Hyun out of embarrassment and fear of ruining their friendship, she finds herself alone in the dance studio—only for him to confront her, refusing to let her run from what they shared

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The neon glow of Seoul flickers through the windows of the dance studio, casting long shadows against the mirrored walls. You move through the routine without thought, letting the music guide you, your body flowing in a rhythm that feels like second nature. And yet, no matter how many times you go through the steps, no matter how much you lose yourself in the movement, your mind always drifts back to him.

Seung-Hyun.

It’s been weeks since that night. Weeks since he had touched you, kissed you, unraveled you in ways you never thought possible. And yet, instead of facing him, instead of allowing yourself to explore what this new, unfamiliar connection between you could be, you ran.

You avoided him at rehearsals, made excuses whenever the group went out, and kept your interactions strictly professional. You convinced yourself it was for the best—that whatever happened that night was a mistake, a lapse in judgment. That your friendship wasn’t meant to survive the weight of whatever was brewing between you.

But deep down, you knew the truth.

The way he made you feel that night… It was intoxicating. Overwhelming. It terrified you how easily he had read you, how effortlessly he had undone years of self-doubt with his hands, his mouth, his voice whispering against your skin.

And now? Now you were here, alone in the studio, trying to dance away the memory of his touch.

You spin, your breath heavy, your body slick with sweat, when the door clicks open.

You freeze.

In the reflection of the mirror, Seung-Hyun leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes locked onto you.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he says, voice low, unreadable.

Your pulse stutters. You weren’t prepared for this—not now, not when you’re still trying to sort through the mess of emotions that have consumed you since that night.

“I—I was just finishing up,” you say quickly, reaching for your water bottle, avoiding his gaze.

But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t let you slip away so easily.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

It’s not a question.

You inhale sharply, gripping the bottle tighter. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Bullshit.”

Your eyes snap up to his in the mirror, his reflection unreadable, but his voice holds no anger—just quiet determination.

He pushes off the door, stepping closer, his gaze pinning you in place. “Talk to me.”

You shake your head, looking away. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Really?” He takes another step, and then another, until he’s close enough that you can feel the heat of him behind you. “Because I think there is.”

Your body betrays you. Even without touching you, his presence alone ignites something deep in your core. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to be strong, to not crumble the way you did that night.

“I—I don’t want to ruin what we have,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Silence stretches between you before he finally speaks. “Is that what you think happened?”

You nod, your throat tight. “We crossed a line, Seung-Hyun. And now… I don’t know how to go back.”

He exhales slowly, and then, just like that night, his fingertips ghost along your bare arm. The touch is light—barely there—but it’s enough to make your breath hitch.

“What if I don’t want to go back?”

Your eyes fly open, meeting his in the mirror. There’s no hesitation in his gaze, no doubt. Only certainty.

Your lips part, but nothing comes out.

He steps closer, his hands finding your waist, grounding you. His voice is low, intimate. “You think I regret that night? That I regret touching you, making you feel good?”

A shiver runs through you at his words.

“I don’t,” he continues, his breath warm against your neck. “Not for a second.”

You swallow hard, your heart slamming against your ribs. “But our friendship—”

He turns you then, his hands firm on your hips as he spins you to face him.

“Do you really think I wanted to be just friends with you?”

His words knock the air from your lungs.

Your lips part, but before you can answer, he steps even closer, erasing the space between you. His hands slide up your sides, slow and deliberate, his touch burning through the thin fabric of your tank top.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your hip. “But I waited. Because I needed you to be ready.”

Your breath stutters as his hands skim higher, his fingers grazing your ribs, your pulse hammering beneath your skin.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he whispers, his lips hovering just above yours. “Tell me, and I’ll walk away.”

But you can’t.

Because despite your fears, despite your hesitations, the truth is undeniable.

You want him.

You’ve always wanted him.

And when his lips finally claim yours, slow and deep, you know there’s no going back.

The moment Seung-Hyun’s lips meet yours, everything else fades. The walls of the dance studio, the faint echo of music from the speakers, even the hesitation that has kept you away from him—all of it dissolves in the heat of his touch.

His kiss is slow at first, testing, coaxing. His lips mold to yours with practiced ease, a soft inhale slipping past his nose as he deepens it, his hands framing your face as if you’re something delicate, something he doesn’t want to scare away. His thumb brushes over your cheekbone, a silent reassurance, a reminder that he isn’t going anywhere.

Your hands tremble as they find purchase against his chest, his body solid beneath your fingertips. His heartbeat thrums under your touch, steady and sure, anchoring you in place. And when his tongue sweeps against your lower lip, teasing, you part for him, a soft sigh escaping as he takes the invitation.

The shift is gradual but undeniable. The gentle, tentative exploration melts into something deeper, hungrier. His fingers slip into your hair, tilting your head just so as he drinks you in, his body pressing closer, heat radiating from every inch of him. You can feel the tension in his muscles, the restraint he’s barely holding onto, and it sends a delicious shiver down your spine.

Then, just as suddenly as he takes, he gives. He slows, letting the kiss linger, drawing it out, savoring the taste of you like he has all the time in the world. He nips at your lower lip, soothing the sting with his tongue, whispering your name like it’s something sacred.

You barely register when he starts moving, guiding you backward until the cool surface of the mirror presses against your back. His hands slide down, gripping your hips, fingers flexing as if he’s memorizing the shape of you. He kisses you again, deeper this time, his body slotting against yours, warmth and need coiling between you like a slow-burning fire.

And then—he pulls back, just enough to meet your gaze. His pupils are blown, his lips swollen from kissing you, his breath uneven. But his voice, when he speaks, is soft.

“You don’t have to run from me.”

Your chest tightens. “I wasn’t—”

He shakes his head, silencing you with another kiss, this one softer, more patient. His fingers skim up your sides, tracing over the fabric of your tank top, sending a ripple of goosebumps across your skin.

“I don’t want to be just another mistake you try to forget.” His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “I meant what I said. That night… I don’t regret it. Not for a second.”

Your body tenses at the memory, and suddenly, you’re not in the studio anymore. You’re back in that dimly lit dressing room, the air thick with something unspoken, the space between you charged with anticipation.

He touches you like you’re something precious, his fingers gliding over your skin with reverence. He kisses you like he wants to rewrite every disappointing experience you’ve ever had, like he’s trying to prove a point without words.

The way he worships you with his hands, his lips, his voice—it’s unlike anything you’ve ever known.

He makes you feel special. Wanted. Beautiful.

And when his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your shorts, when he strokes you with slow, deliberate intent, he watches you—studies every hitch of your breath, every tremor in your limbs, every sigh that escapes your lips.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs against your skin, pressing kisses to your shoulder, your collarbone, the curve of your throat.

Heat pools low in your stomach, your body arching into his touch, and for the first time, you understand.

Pleasure isn’t just about the act.

It’s about trust.

It’s about him.

You shudder at the memory, your hands fisting in Seung-Hyun’s shirt as the present moment rushes back in. He notices—of course he notices—and his expression softens.

“You’re thinking about it,” he murmurs, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. “About that night.”

You nod, throat tight. “I just… I didn’t know how to face you after.”

He sighs, resting his forehead against yours again. “You don’t have to be afraid of this—of us.” His fingers trail down your arm, slow and soothing. “I’m not going to rush you. I never will.”

Your chest tightens at the sincerity in his voice.

And then, with the same patience he’s always shown you, he shifts his touch—his hands sliding from your waist to your back, then lower, gripping your thighs. In one smooth motion, he lifts you, guiding your legs around his hips as he carries you across the room.

You don’t realize where he’s taking you until you feel the cool leather of the studio couch against your back. He kneels between your legs, his hands gentle as they skim up and down your thighs, grounding you.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmurs.

Your breath hitches. “Seung-Hyun—”

He shushes you with a kiss, slow and tender, his lips lingering against yours before moving lower—over your jaw, your throat, down to the place where your pulse thrums wildly beneath his touch.

“I want to make you feel good,” he whispers against your skin. “The way you deserve.”

And when his hands slide beneath your shirt, when his lips follow, you let yourself believe him.

#choi seunghyun #choi seunghyun scenario #fanfic #t.o.p bigbang #choi seunghyun x reader #top x reader #bigbang #big bang

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dcnatural · 6 months ago

Text

Above Wayne Manor

Word Count: 3632

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Jason Todd x Tim Drake x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Synopsis: During a plane ride after a mission, Luke Fox begins to flirt with you, but your brothers get jealous and decide to mark you as theirs.

A/N: Work written for the @macrocest winter bingo, filling the prompt for "marking their territory".

A/N: This work is a sequel to Below Wayne Manor. I rarely make part 2, but BWM was so well received that I decided to make a follow up, Thank you to all the read, liked and/or commented <3

It had been a couple months since you had lost your virginity to your brothers, in what became the first of many secret meetings in the cave. Bruce remained oblivious to the whole thing and, while you had a feeling Alfred had somehow found out, the butler had never mentioned anything to anyone.

You'd thought it would be weird to be in a relationship with your three older brothers. In reality, it was anything but. Those nights in the cave were your favourites, your heart beating faster whenever Dick, Jason or Tim sent an encrypted message asking for a meet-up. It wasn't always the four of you, sometimes you hung out with just one or two of the boys, or they hung out with you, but there was no jealousy among the four of you. You didn't quite know what to call that dynamic, but you knew it felt right.

The only thing that bothered you was the secrecy of it all. The hushed tones, the hidden encounters. Never being allowed to even talk about what happened in the cave when you were out of it. You wish you could just… be with them. Let everyone know you belonged together. Surely there were bigger issues in Gotham than four siblings being in love. Or, even if you couldn't be public in your civilian identities, why not let everyone know that Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin and Flamebird were in a relationship? But whenever you brought up the topic of going on dates or even doing it in the manor, your brothers quickly shut down the idea, saying that Bruce would go crazy if he found out.

Sometimes, at night, you laid awake worrying that for them it was just a casual fling. Sex for the sake of sex. But then, how to explain the sweet words they whispered in your ear all the time? Or the frequent emotional conversations you all had after sex? Still, as months passed by, you learned to accept it as merely 'siblings with benefits' and gave up on dreaming of it being anything more.

* * *

The low hum of the Batplane's engines filled the cabin, a constant, soothing vibration that contrasted with your still accelerated heartbeat. The sleek interior was dimly lit by faint blue panels, casting long shadows over the faces of your companions. Dick sat at the controls, his hands steady as he navigated the aircraft through the night sky. Jason was leaning back in his seat across the aisle, arms crossed as he watched Tim type the mission report on his laptop. Luke, sitting in front of you, tinkered with the cowl of his Batwing suit.

You sat by the window, your knees tucked to the side and your head resting against the glass. Outside, the world stretched endlessly beneath you, the clouds below glowing in the moonlight, pierced occasionally by the faint glimmer of city lights. The stars above were shockingly bright, free from the interference of Gotham's ever-present smog and neon haze.

"It's beautiful, right?" Luke said suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet. You glanced over to find him watching you instead of the view, a crooked smile softening the sharp angles of his face. Ever since he had taken the role of Batwing, you two had been spending a lot of time patrolling together, so when Batman asked you and your brothers to take care of a splinter cell of the League of Assassins in Markovia, you decided to invite Luke to tag along. And it was a good thing you had, as he had proved essential in the fight.

You nodded, "The view? Beautiful indeed."

"Yeah, I was totally talking about the view," he said with a laugh, his tone a little too quick. A faint blush crept up his cheeks, barely visible on his deep brown skin. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, then after a moment of hesitation, got up and slid into the empty one beside you. "So," Luke began, his voice trembling slightly, "I've been meaning to ask, do you have a boyfriend?"

You noticed Jason tensing on the other side of the aisle, his hands gripping the armrests of his seats a little too tightly. Even Tim glanced up from his screen to stare, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he returned to his task.

You laughed, "No, I don't." You shrugged, keeping your voice casual. "Why do you ask?"

Luke chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, not that it's any of my business or anything. I just figured, you know... someone as amazing as you probably wouldn't be single." He winced as if realizing how forward that sounded, his gaze darting away before returning with a sheepish grin.

You felt a warmth spread through you at the compliment. Luke was undeniably handsome, with a sharp jawline framed by neatly groomed stubble, warm brown eyes, and a soft, boyish smile that was making your stomach flutter. However, you were seeing someone, or rather, multiple someones. But you couldn't tell him that.

"No, no one special," you replied, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

Luke's shoulders relaxed a bit, his eyes glimmering with hope. "Good to know. Means I still have a shot, right?" His grin widened, but his fidgeting fingers betrayed his confidence.

From across the cabin, you felt Jason's eyes on you, burning with unspoken tension, while Tim's typing slowed once again. Dick glanced back briefly, his brow furrowed but his focus still on piloting.

"Maybe," you said with a playful smirk, deciding to let the moment hang in the air. "You can start by asking me out."

"That's enough!" Jason growled. His chair creaked as he pushed himself up, the sudden movement drawing everyone's attention. His boots thudded heavily against the cabin floor as he strode over to you and Luke, his expression darkened with a barely contained fury. He loomed over Luke, his shoulders tense, and his fist clenched tightly. "You better stay the fuck away from my-"

"Sister", Tim cut in, jumping to Jason's side to hold back his arm, before Jason could throw a punch he would regret later. "How would you feel if I was shamelessly flirting with Tiffany?"

Luke stood up, he was shorter than Jason, but he held his ground, his chin tilted up in defiance. "I'm sorry, I thought we were all friends", he raised an eyebrow, looking from Jason to you and back to Jason. "I'm just trying to get to know your sister better. Is that a crime?"

Jason scoffed, "You're trying to get into her pants, more like it." Tim's grip on his arm tightened, but Jason shrugged him off, his eyes never leaving Luke's. You let out a sigh, leaning back in your seat.

Dick, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up. "Jason, enough." His voice was calm, but authoritative, making everyone pause. "Luke, come here, I need you to take control of the plane."

Luke hesitated for a moment, his gaze flicking between Jason's tense stance and Dick's calm demeanour before he finally nodded and made his way to the cockpit. Dick handed over the controls, giving Luke a brief rundown of the basics. All the while, Jason and Tim continued to shoot you angry looks, while you kept your gaze fixed on the window, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. You couldn't hide that your brothers' jealous reaction had been a pleasant surprise.

Once Luke had settled into the seat, Dick placed a large headset over his head, adjusting it securely before strolling into the cabin.

"There, now we can have a private conversation." Dick said, as he sat down next to you, his thigh brushing against yours. "You too", he added, turning to Jason and Tim, "take your seats." The two obeyed, taking the seats in front of yours and Dick's so that the four of you were facing each other.

"What do we even have to talk about?" Jason grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh, I don't know, how about the fact you almost punched Luke because he showed interest in me?" you retorted. "What's that about?"

Jason hissed in a low tone. "I don't care what you do. But have the decency to not rub it in our face." Jason's jaw clenched, his eyes darting away from yours.

"Besides, he's not good enough for you," Tim added.

"While I disapprove of his methods", Dick said with a pointed glare towards Jason, "Jason was right to interfere. You shouldn't be dating anyone right now, birdie," he ended in a soft tone, placing his hand over yours and giving it a light squeeze."

You raised an eyebrow, a defying smirk on your face. "And why not?"

"Because you fucking belong to us, and we don't want anyone else sniffing around you", Jason blurted out.

Tim and Dick nodded in agreement, their gazes intense as they awaited your reaction to Jason's outburst.

"I belong to you?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. You were very pleased to hear that he considered you to be his, but you weren't going to let him know that just yet. "I wasn't aware I was a possession."

Jason winked at you. "Oh, doll, don't play coy. You know exactly what I mean."

"Or perhaps she just needs to be reminded of who owns her", Tim added with a conspiratorial smile.

Dick chuckled and looked from Jason to Tim. "Well, maybe we should remind our little bird that she does actually have a boyfriend. Three, in fact."

Before you could reply, Dick pulled you into his lap, his mouth going straight to that spot in your neck that made you gasp in pleasure. Not missing a beat, Tim left his seat and kneeled in front of yours, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw before tilting your head towards him and capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue demanding entrance into your mouth. You moaned seeking more contact.

Jason, taking advantage of the way your body arched towards Tim, reached over and unzipped your suit, his knuckles brushing against your skin. You shivered, your nipples hardening into peaks, straining against your bra, which Jason noticed as soon as had removed your bodice.

"Oh, it never fails to amaze me how easy it is to turn you on", he said in a mocking tone, thumb brushing over your sensitive nub and making you whine.

Dick's mouth moved to your collarbone, his teeth grazing your skin. "She's always ready for us, aren't you, sweetheart?" he asked and could only nod. You could feel his hardness pressing against your backside, and you rubbed against it, eliciting a moan from him.

"Use your words, pretty girl," Tim urged as his lips left yours, his hands moving to your waist, unzipping your suit further and pushing it down to your hips and leaving you almost completely exposed.

Three pairs of eyes watched you with intensity, waiting for your response. Your head was fuzzy from their kisses and touches, and you could feel your clit throbbing with need, your pussy also desperate to be filled up. "Fuck yes," you shouted. "I'm always ready for you."

Jason smiled wickedly. "And why is that?"

"Because I'm yours", you told them with honesty, squeezing Dick's hand while you looked at Tim and Jason. "I've always been yours." Jason opened a large smile and leaned down to kiss you, his mouth rough and unrelenting against yours.

"And it's time we let the world know that", Dick growled into your ear, causing you to shiver.

"Is everything alright back there?" Luke yelled from the cockpit.

Tim pressed a button in his earpiece to reply. "Just keep flying the plane to the Batcave and mind your own business", he said, before tossing the communication device aside.

Jason bit down your lip, teeth sinking into the tender skin and making you taste blood while Dick's mouth continued to attack your neck. Tim removed your boots and the rest of the suit with agility, his hands going for your bra and panties next.

Dick then stood up, lifting you with him, and carried you to the back of the plane where a large, plush couch was situated. He laid you down gently and Tim and Jason followed, their eyes never leaving your naked body.

Tim kneeled beside you, running a hand up your thigh. "Spread your legs for us, sweetie", he commanded, his voice low and rough. You complied, cheeks burning bright as you revealed your glistening pussy to them.

"Here's how this is going to go", Dick announced, taking control once again. You and your brothers were used to having him barking orders and dictating your encounters. "Baby, you have really hurt our feelings tonight," he said to you, giving a wink to show that he wasn't really being serious. "So we are going to hurt you in return."

Dick's words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt yourself getting wetter. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. You had seen them playing rough with each other, but so far, they hadn't ever hurt you. The thought of them doing so made your heart beat faster.

Jason chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You heard the boss, doll. We're going to make you pay for teasing us like that."

Tim leaned in, his breath hot on your ear. "If it ever becomes too much, remember you can always safeword. We don't want to really hurt you."

You nodded, rolling your eyes as you muttered the term you had heard then use before. "Yes, yes, I know. Batword."

The three men nodded and exchanged a knowing look. Tim sat down on the couch and suddenly Dick was flipping you onto your stomach and bending you over Tim's knees, making sure to hold your legs in place. You still hadn't really processed the change in position when you felt Jason's gloved hand coming down hard on your ass, causing you to let out a small shriek.

There was barely time for the stinging sensation to pass before Jason gave you a quick succession of five slaps. This time, instead of a cry of pain, you let out a loud moan of pleasure, your hips grinding automatically against Tim's legs, seeking fiction.

"Oh, it seems our little slut likes that?" Dick said, running a finger through your folds to collect your wetness. He admired it for a moment, and then brought his finger to his mouth, sucking it clean. Tim's hard cock poked at your belly, pre-cum already staining the leggings to his suit.

Jason merely chuckled at your reddening but cheeks, and gave you another series of smacks. You didn't bother to suppress yourself this time, letting out a series of whimpers and groans. Jason kept slapping you while Dick and Tim watched, cooing words of encouragement at you: "Good girl", "Taking your punishment so well", "You look so good with palm marks on your ass".

You mentally counted each slap, and Jason kept them coming until you reached fifty, evenly divided between each cheek. When he finally stopped, your skin was burning and you knew that in the morning there would definitely be marks. Which was what they wanted, afterall. Your brothers were marking their territory, laying their claim over you.

"So pretty the sounds you make…" Jason said, running his tongue over his lips. his bulge was visible under his pants and your pussy clenched at the thought of his cock. He crouched in front of you, face close to yours. "Are you holding on alright?" He asked, and you could feel the worry in his tone.

"I'm good," you said a little breathless. "Just… thinking about getting fucked", you confessed.

Dick shook his head."No, no, no. You are not getting any cock tonight, princess. This is supposed to be a punishment, remember?"

You whined. "But--"

Jason cut you off, grabbing you by the throat and cutting your breath. "You heard him, you are not getting fucked tonight. Complain again and we will keep denying you for a whole week", he finished and let you go.

"Or maybe we will comply and fuck your ass", Tim added nonchalantly. Your eyes widened. Although you had talked about it before, they had never actually entered your rear entrance, and the idea of them doing so was quite… intimidating. Especially considering that all of them were well sized.

"Sorry", you quickly apologized. "I promise to not ask again tonight."

"Good", Dick replied, running a head through your head. "Your turn, Tim."

Tim got up from the couch and Dick took his place under you. Jason slid on your side, and with his gloves off, he touched your folds, smiling upon feeling how wet you had gotten just from his spanking you.

Tim maneuvered your body again, so that you were sitting on Dick's lap, your back against his torso, legs opened on the front. As you wondered what exactly Tim was going to do, his mouth closed around your clit and he began sucking hard.

Dick wrapped his arms around your shoulders to prevent you from moving, and Jason's hands casually grabbed your boobs, while Tim gripped your thighs, keeping you from squirming too much, while he kept licking and sucking your pussy.

You could feel your orgasm building up, your body tensing as you got closer and closer to the edge. Tim's tongue was relentless, flicking and circling your clit at a maddening pace, while Jason's fingers pinched and rolled your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chanted, your head thrown back against Dick shoulder, your hips bucking in an attempt to get more friction. Tim's hands tightened on your thighs, holding you in place as he continued his assault on your pussy. Dick took full advantage of your exposed neck, his teeth sinking into your skin and his lips sucking hard enough to form a deep red bruise, marking you just like Jason had done with his handprints on your ass.

Then, as soon as it had all started, Tim pulled away with a loud pop, leaving you panting and on the brink of an orgasm. You let out a frustrated groan, your body aching for release. Tim calmly got up to his feet, unbuckling his belt while Jason and Dick continued to play with your body, their hands roaming over your skin, their mouths leaving marks all over your neck and chest.

Tim's belt hit the floor with a clatter, followed by the sound of his zipper being pulled down. You looked up to see him standing over you, his cock already out and in his hand, stroking it slowly. He was long and thick, the head glistening with pre-cum. You licked your lips, eager to taste him.

Tim smirked at you, wrapping a hand around his length and giving it a slow stroke. "I thought we had made it clear that you weren't getting any taste of us today."

"But, you-", you protested but Jason clamped your mouth, turning your words into muffled sounds. While you were still confused, Tim began to furiously masturbate.

"Just stay there and be a good show," Tim commanded, his voice rough with desire.

Tim continued to stroke his cock, his eyes locked onto yours, his gaze intense and hungry. Dick moved his hand to touch between your legs, while Jason continued to suck your breasts, the combined sensations causing you to moan and arch your body, despite their strong hold. Tim's strokes became faster, his grip tightening around his cock. You could see the muscles in his arm flexing, his breath coming in short gasps.

You watched, your mouth watering, as he jerked himself off, his hand moving up and down his thick shaft. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum", he panted, his abs tensing. He let out a low groan, his hips thrusting forward as he came, his hot cum spurting out in thick ropes. Jason moved out of the way just in time for Tim's cum land on your chest and stomach. You let out a whimper, feeling the warmth of his release on your skin.

Dick chuckled. "Look at you, all covered in his cum." Dick's voice was a low growl in your ear, his hands smearing Tim's release all over your skin. "You look fucking gorgeous, baby."

Jason leaned in, his tongue licking a trail of cum from your collarbone up to your chin. "Delicious too," he murmured, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, sharing Tim's taste with you.

Tim, still standing over you, looked down at you with a satisfied smirk. "Do you still think you don't belong to us?"

You shook your head, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal. "I'm yours," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dick pulled you in a tight embrace, not caring about the mess in your chest, his lips pressing against your forehead. "We know, baby. And we're going to make sure everyone else knows too."

Tim and Jason exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them. They both nodded, their expressions serious. "It's more than time for Gotham to know that the Wayne girl is taken," Tim said, his voice firm.

"And as a bonus, we get to piss Bruce off," Jason added.

Dick released you and carefully placed you on the couch. "Which reminds me, we must be near the Manor. I'll go land the plane."

"Wait. What are you going to tell Luke?" you inquired.

Dick waved his hand dismissively, already strolling towards the cockpit. "I guess I'll just tell him to stay away. Or he'll have to deal with your three boyfriends."

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