#that was long-winded but my thoughts on this are kinda all over the place | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luvergirl-866 · 2 months ago

Text

that’s so true

word count - 8.3k

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

c/w - language, toxic p/toxic relationship (situationship) (kinda toxic a too)? i guess you could call it angst? but it’s very unserious bc i’ve been doing too much serious stuff. fluff and happy ending. very dialogue heavy

a/n - i don’t usually like to incorporate music into my fics but the anon who gave this prompt specifically recommended it so i hope i did it justice! also, this takes place azzi’s freshman year so like 2021/2022, and i know this song didn’t exist then but this is fiction so i can do what i want 😛. hope yall enjoy!!!

They only have five minutes before they’re supposed to leave with everybody else to Ted’s. Unfortunately for Azzi, Paige Bueckers is very hot and also very much on top of her, and both of these things coincide to create quite the predicament: they can’t stop kissing.

It’s normal for them, lately. Kissing is easier than talking, considering talking has gotten harder since they started—whatever this is. Or maybe restarted is a better word, considering they did this same thing in high school. But back then, the kissing was a little clumsier, often fast and desperate, whereas now they’re older, mature (yeah, right) and they take their time with these things, often just making out for hours before they move on to other things, relishing in not having to worry about either of their parents or siblings barging in on them like they used to.

There’s also another difference—back then, they were dating. Like, introducing each other as their girlfriends, going on dates, holding-hands-in-public dating.

That’s different because today—and for the past six months—they’ve been decidedly not dating.

“We don’t need distractions,” Paige had said after they’d fucked, only a month after Azzi came to UConn. (They had both agreed to stay just friends—best friends—but nothing more. But then they had to live in the same building and watch each other get all hot and sweaty at practice and see each other in skimpy pajamas and who were they to blame, really, when they fucked in that club bathroom one heated but sober night? They had spent a year broken up, a year of being long-distance besties, FaceTiming and texting and posting each other on socials with captions like “happy birthday i miss you” and “come see me”. It honestly would’ve been wrong for them to not fuck.)

“Mm—Paige, wait,” Azzi whispers when they finally separate for air.

“What’s up,” Paige says, eyes roving over every inch of Azzi’s face. Her voice is a little raspy from lack of use and it does things to Azzi’s tummy.

“I—you don’t—we need to go,” Azzi urges, pushing at Paige’s shoulders. Paige, of course, just smiles at that, pressing her knee up in between Azzi’s legs. It’s really not her fault when she gasps a little.

Paige chuckles, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then between her eyebrows. “Do we?” she mumbles, pecking the tip of Azzi’s nose and the corner of her mouth. “Like, do we really?”

“Yes, Paige, we do.” Azzi moves one of her hands down to Paige’s occupied thigh, trying desperately to separate the toned muscle from her aching core. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Definitely not as much fun as this is.”

“Well, we can continue later, when we get home.” That gets Paige to move her knee back, offering Azzi both relief and leaving an ache between her legs. She does her best to flash a sultry smile. “It’s a weekend. We can stay up all night if we want.”

Paige looks at her skeptically. “I thought you were stayin’ sober?”

Azzi moves her head back and forth. “Might not.”

“For real?”

“Uh-huh.” Azzi winds her arms around Paige’s shoulders, then scratches a little roughly down the length of her back, something Paige has always been into. It works, Paige’s jaw dropping just enough to show the pink of her tongue. “I want it, too, P. We just can’t ditch the team again. I think they already suspect us.”

“What?” Paige makes a face and scoffs. “Nah, we’re sneaky.”

“You called me babe in front of everyone at practice.”

“That’s a friend thing.” Paige waggles her eyebrows and plants a kiss on her lips, as if to prove just how friendly they are.

“Nika saw you basically groping me the other day, too.”

“I never did that.”

“My apartment, the kitchen. Movie night. I was making popcorn and you came up behind me and grabbed my tits.”

“Hm. Don’t remember that.”

“You said ‘I wanna fuck you from behind right now,’ and poor Nika walked in and stared at us and said, ‘This doesn’t look like you’re making popcorn’.”

Paige groans, dropping her head into Azzi’s shoulder and effectively laying the entire length of her body on Azzi’s. “I did wanna fuck you from behind. You were wearing those jeans…”

“Paige!”

“Okay, whatever.” Paige is a little muffled now, buried in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Her breath tingles, sending hot shivers up the length of her arm. “I do that to everyone, Nika won’t think anything of it.”

“Oh, really,” Azzi says, tone dropping into something utterly unamused, and Paige’s head pops up when she hears it. “So you say things like that to every bitch?”

Paige’s eyes widen. “No!” she grapples for something to say, and Azzi just raises an eyebrow at her. “I don’t—I meant—I just didn’t wanna admit you’re right, I wasn’t—baby.” Paige juts out her bottom lip. It kinda works. “You know I wasn’t thinkin’.”

This is another interesting thing about their current situation: because they’re not dating, they’ve never discussed where they stand in terms of other people. Sure, at the very beginning, they agreed since it was just casual sex, there was no reason for them to be exclusive. They didn’t want to get anywhere near that line of the all-consuming, intense relationship they had in high school, and they figured seeing other people—or at least having the option to do so—would steer them clear of that. And it worked for about…two seconds.

But then somewhere down the line things got a little blurry and slowly but surely Azzi stopped thinking of them as friends with benefits and as more of a slightly complicated but also fun situationship. Because at some point they started kissing without the goal of sex or even third base, just little pecks here and there when they had a second alone. And then they started staying a little longer each time after they’d fuck—at first, they’d leave directly after. But then they would stay for some basic aftercare, and then it got to full-on snuggling, and then it got to their clothes in each other’s apartments from how often they’d stay the night with each other. And the most recent development which really cemented things for Azzi: Paige has started using pet names outside the bedroom, something she only ever did while they were girlfriends. It’s only been a few weeks since this started and Azzi was absolutely floored when Paige had picked up her phone call with a, “Hey, baby.”

And now here they are, late for yet another night out because Paige is very clearly scandalized at the mere notion of her seeing another girl—even though it’s supposed to be allowed—and Azzi has to be honest, she doesn’t love the idea, either.

“Aw, c’mon,” Paige says when Azzi doesn’t reply. “Don’t be mad at me, mama.”

Azzi blinks up at her, officially not jealous and not overthinking about their complicated situation any longer. “You’re stupid,” she teases, scooting back and sitting up.

Paige follows closely, so that by the time Azzi is propped up against the headboard she’s on her lap. “You’re really stopping us?” she asks.

“We’re already late, I’m sure everybody left without us,” Azzi says, tapping Paige encouragingly on the hip, “so yes.”

Paige doesn’t yet move and doesn’t look like she’s going to until a sharp knock at the door makes both of them jolt. “Hey!” It’s Aaliyah’s voice. “Y’all cannot be taking this long to get ready.”

“I don’t…we just…” Azzi stammers as Paige scrambles off her, and they both get quickly to their feet, making as little noise as possible, “our hair wasn’t cooperating,” she says, reaching up to fix Paige’s tousled hair. “We’ll be right out!”

“You better be, we’re all waiting outside and it’s fucking cold.”

“Coming!” Azzi calls, letting Paige wipe some of her smudged lip gloss, rolling her eyes when Paige smirks at her and says, “Oh, you will be.”

She has no idea what Paige Bueckers is to her, but an annoyance will always take the top spot.

————————————————

When Azzi had claimed she’d stay sober with the other freshmen, she hadn’t accounted for the fact that she has a best friend who loves to party and who loves peer pressuring even more.

“C’mon, just a few shots,” Paige pouts, leaning in too close to her. Azzi glances around the bar, trying to see if anybody is watching them, but she can’t tell. There’s too many people.

“Nobody can hear us,” Paige assures her, placing her hands low on Azzi’s hips, pressing her into the wall of the corner they’re semi-hidden in.

Azzi swears this girl is horrible for her blood pressure. “Paige,” she hisses, removing Paige’s hands, “not here.”

“You shoulda let us stay home,” Paige says, and now that her hands are placed firmly at her sides her eyes do all the wandering for them, raking slowly down Azzi’s body and back up. “I woulda had you fucked out by now, I swear.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Azzi mumbles.

“You seem anxious, baby.” Bravely, Paige holds her again, though this time it’s at a more friendly place, higher up on her waist. Azzi tries to meet her eyes but they’re held firmly on her lips. “Fuck. I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“No, Paige,” Azzi says, as sternly as possible. She would rather like to kiss her too, but not here, not now, not when Paige is tipsy and Azzi is horrendously sober.

“Okay, I’ma go get me another dirty shirley.” Azzi swears she would marry that drink if she could. “And I’ma grab a couple shots for you while I’m at it. And then we’re gonna fuck in the bathroom.”

Azzi smacks Paige on the arm. “I’m done with public restrooms. Once was enough.”

Paige, still sober enough to have some sort of common sense, wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, you’re right. But I’m still grabbing shots.” She smacks a wet kiss onto her forehead and with that, turns around to head toward the bar.

Azzi doesn’t get a second of peace before someone else is sidling up to her. Though when she looks over she sighs with relief when it’s just Caroline. “Hey, Carol.”

“You’re so lucky you have a girlfriend who’ll buy you shots,” Caroline says, looking wistfully in Paige’s direction.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Caroline side-eyes her. “Uh-huh.”

“She’s not. We broke up.”

“And then got back together.”

Azzi shoves her away before pulling her back, linking their arms together as she leads them towards their team’s section of seats. “Nope. We’re still exes.”

“Exes who are romantically involved.”

“Carol,” Azzi groans, urging her to shut up as they approach the rest of the girls. “We’re just friends.”

It used to leave a bitter taste in her mouth, lying to her closest friend, the one whose shoulder she cried on when she and Paige broke up. But after six months of doing it, she’s used to it. And it’s not like Caroline believes her, anyway.

“Okay,” Caroline says skeptically. “So if the guy that’s been looking at you since we got here asked for your number, you’d give it to him?”

They’re at the team’s booth now, and Amari perks up at the mention of the slightest possibility of drama. “What guy?”

“I haven’t noticed a guy,” Azzi says, which is the truth. As it usually goes, she’s only had eyes for Paige tonight.

“Over there,” Carol says, leaning against the table and gesturing subtly across the bar. “Muscle shirt.”

“Immediately no,” Azzi replies, not even looking for him in the group of guys across the room. But he must be actively searching her out because just as she’s about to look away she catches his eye, and even though she immediately looks away, she can still see him grin out of the corner of her eye.

“Uh-oh,” Amari mutters. “You engaged him.”

“Don’t make eye contact,” Azzi says, turning away from him to face her friends. “Make yourself unapproachable.”

Caroline turns away, too, and the two of them lean over the table.

Aaliyah looks up from the conversation she was having. “What’re you guys doing?”

“Hiding,” Azzi hisses.

Amari peeks around Azzi’s shoulder, then settles back in her seat. “He’s coming over.”

“What?” Azzi wants to look at him but doesn’t, instead inching herself closer to Caroline. “Save me.”

“Who is that?” Aaliyah asks, not-so-subtly staring at the guy.

“A man about to flirt with Azzi,” Caroline says, nudging her away.

“Oh, Paige is gonna be maddd,” Aaliyah sing-songs, and they all giggle like this is funny and not absolutely awkward and stress-inducing.

Azzi glares at them. “She has no reason to be mad.” And it’s true, she kind of doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean she won’t.

“Oh, yeah?” Caroline asks, glancing behind them just as Azzi feels the man come up behind her. “We’ll see about that.”

And then there’s a tap on her shoulder, and Azzi takes a deep breath before turning around with a strained smile on her face.

“Hey.” Muscle shirt is standing a little too close for comfort, which she’s sure he’ll excuse by the crowded bar but is obviously just him being weird. “You’re Azzi, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi says, leaning back against the table.

“I’ve seen you around,” he continues, smiling cockily, obviously very proud of himself for being brave enough to approach her. “You come here a lot, right? To Ted’s?”

Azzi shrugs, looking casually to her side in the hopes that Caroline will rescue her, but to her astonishment she has slid into the booth next to Aaliyah and is now chatting happily with the rest of the team. “I guess.”

“Noticed you weren’t with Bueckers,” he says, and she winces. Not five sentences into the conversation and he’s already brought up her current situationship. “Thought it was a good opening.” He laughs. She doesn’t.

“How so?” she asks, a little nervously.

“I mean, she obviously doesn’t want anybody coming near you.” A girl squeezes past behind him and he takes it as an excuse to inch even closer to her. Azzi presses herself further back into the table. “Can’t even look your way without her looking like she’s gonna fight someone.”

“She’s just protective,” Azzi says. As if Paige would do that for any of their friends, as if that level of pure possessiveness is normal.

“Right.” He doesn’t sound fully convinced. “You didn’t ask my name.”

God. Why are men so…gross? “My bad.” He stares at her expectantly. “Uh…so…?”

“I’m Elliot,” he says, grinning at her. That muscle shirt is really not doing good things for him. “You want me to buy you a drink?”

“Um, actually—“

“She’s good.”

Azzi’s shoulders sag at the mere sound of Paige’s voice. She can’t help but smile when Paige approaches them, moving roughly past Elliot to sidle up next to her. She hands her two brightly colored shots before slinging an arm around her, firmly ignoring Elliot. “Gotchu these. Lemme know if you don’t like ‘em.”

Azzi nods, and usually she’d shy away from the physical contact, especially right in front of their friends, but now she leans into it, safe under Paige’s arm. “Thanks.”

“Sorry I took so long.” As if sensing her discomfort—which she probably can—she rubs her thumb soothingly over her shoulder. “They’re super busy up there. You okay?”

Azzi opens her mouth to respond, but Elliot interrupts her. “She’s fine, dude. We’re just talking.”

Paige looks at him. “Aight. Well, you can be done talking now.”

Their teammates have gone mostly quiet behind them, and Azzi rolls her eyes when she hears them snickering.

Elliot scoffs, but he’s skinny and a little shorter than Paige, and when her arm tightens around Azzi’s shoulder he puts his hands up. “Damn, okay.”

Azzi breathes a sigh of relief when he’s gone. “Thank god. That was so awkward.”

“You shoulda called me,” Paige says, dropping her arm to turn around and face their teammates. “And y’all shoulda helped her out.”

The girls look up at them innocently. Amari smiles charmingly at Paige and says, “We knew you were gonna do it soon enough.”

Azzi shakes her head and downs one of the shots. It is as disgusting as it looks.

“You guys suck,” Paige says, pulling Azzi into her side once again. “Leaving my girl in the trenches like that.”

Dozens of eyebrows raise at that, and it’s then that Azzi smells the booze on Paige’s breath. She flushes, trying to pull away. “P,” she mutters.

“I know,” Paige says, holding fast to Azzi’s waist, setting her shirley on the table so she can wrap the other around her, too.

“Paige,” Azzi urges, pressed completely now into Paige’s chest and trying desperately to ignore the scrutinizing looks from her teammates. She hopes they’re all too drunk to think hard about Paige’s behavior.

“Yeah,” Paige says, her hand creeping slowly down Azzi’s back.

“Did you have another drink?” Azzi asks, trying to walk them away from the booth, but Paige keeps her feet planted.

“I might’ve had another shot.” Paige grins, and Azzi would easily admit she likes it a lot more than muscle shirt’s. “Missed you, baby.”

The girls are pretending not to eavesdrop, but they’re clearly listening, sharing furtive glances with each other. Which is just—great. Because tomorrow the girls are going to have questions and Paige will be sober enough for that to stress her out, which will in turn stress Azzi out, and there will be no saving face if she lets Paige continue on like this.

“Not now, Paige,” she hisses, trying desperately to push her back.

Paige pouts. Their faces are far too close together. “What, you wanna go back to that guy or sum’?”

Azzi knows she’s not serious, but it still annoys her, and she doesn’t feel quite as comforted in Paige’s arms anymore. “Seriously, I’m not in the mood.”

Paige scoffs, maybe a little more serious now. “Course you aren’t.”

Azzi blinks at her, and when Paige’s hands drop to her sides she takes a step back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I dunno.” Paige gestured between them. “Just that you never wanna be around me unless we’re fu—“

Azzi’s overstimulated and irritated, but she still has enough common sense to shove Paige hard enough to shut her up. “Don’t.”

Paige watches as Azzi drinks her other shot. “What? You really don’t want anybody to know, huh? You that embarrassed or something?”

Azzi shakes her head in disbelief, stepping back towards Paige so they can at least have this conversation too quiet for anybody to hear. “Are you dumb? You’re the one who wanted to keep this secret.”

“Because I didn’t want my teammates thinking I was distracted!”

“Our teammates, Paige.” Azzi gives her another little shove for good measure, and then she steps away again. “You’re acting stupid. Go chill out and come back when you wanna be normal.”

“Fine. I will.” With that, she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd. Azzi rolls her eyes at her hot-headedness. They’re both too stubborn for their own good, but Paige is ten times worse when she’s drunk and Azzi has always been more logical. Little, senseless arguments like this never happened when they were dating—or even when they were broken up—but now that they’re at this weird in-between, they’re becoming more frequent.

Hence why they prefer to kiss instead of talk.

Azzi plops down beside Amari, grateful when nobody questions her, and feels a little better when she thinks about how good the make-up sex will be later.

—————————————

There will be no make-up sex tonight. Or ever, Azzi thinks bitterly, glaring daggers at the girl Paige is currently feeling up.

Okay, feeling up might be an overstatement. She has a hand on her arm. But Azzi knows better than anyone that for Paige, hand-on-arm action might as well be foreplay. And the girl seems to sense it, too, if her batting eyelashes and twinkling smile have anything to show for it.

“She’s just doing it to make you jealous.” Once again, it’s Caroline, sidling up next to Azzi to study the tall blonde across the bar.

“I have no reason to be jealous,” Azzi all but spits out, and Caroline smirks.

“Pretend all you want, Az. But it’s impossible to not see what’s going on with you and her.”

“There’s nothing.” Paige’s fingers trail down the length of the girl’s arm and it’s almost like Azzi can feel it, too.

“Are you guys exclusive?”

“No,” Azzi responds immediately, too tipsy to be thinking straight, and when Caroline smiles proudly to herself, she backtracks. “I mean, obviously not. We’re not anything.”

“Well, if you’re not exclusive, she’s not doing anything wrong.”

Azzi hates this bitter reminder and turns her anger onto her best friend. “Shut up, Carol.”

“You two should probably talk about not seeing other people,” Caroline says, as wise and perceptive as ever. (She is also significantly more sober than Azzi is.)

“She can see whoever she wants,” Azzi seethes, stirring the ice in her drink. “I don’t care.”

Paige’s eyes flit from the girl’s face to Azzi. And then, with a little smirk, she leans in to whisper something in her ear, blue eyes never leaving brown as the girl giggles and grabs onto her arm. She smiles, too, and Azzi takes some satisfaction in the fact the girl has no idea she’s not the one Paige is doing this for.

She’s always been good at putting up a show. And Azzi has always been her captive audience.

Not tonight, Azzi decides as she looks firmly away. It’s about time Paige learns to behave herself.

—————————————-

It’s been a long night of drinking and trying not to watch Paige attach herself to this random girl’s hip when Azzi is approached by none other than random girl herself.

She’s gorgeous up close, but Azzi can’t help but notice her brown curls and crescent dimples, the way they’re the exact same height. It nearly makes her laugh.

“Hey,” the girl says, dropping into the bar seat next to Azzi.

“Uh,” Azzi says, vey tipsy and very irate. “Hey.”

“What’s that? It looks so good,” the girl asks, pointing to her drink. Her voice is soft and kind, nothing malicious gleaming in her eyes. Azzi hates it.

“Just a mango daiquiri,” Azzi responds, kind of unable to be snarky about it with the wide-eyed way the girl is looking at her.

“Oh, fancy! I’m definitely gonna cop that.” She smiles conspiratorially at her. Azzi can’t help but smile back. Okay, now she just kind of hates herself. She’s never been one to be rude to girls she’s jealous of. Especially not harmless, sweet ones.

“It’s so good,” she’s saying before she can help it. “And they come in all different flavors so there’s like, endless possibilities.”

“Stop,” the girl gasps.

“I know!” and then they both giggle like the tipsy college students they are. This is possibly even better than hating her, because it’s almost like a smack in the face: look at me, Paige, being the bigger person. Making best friends with your target of the night. How’s that feel?

“Hey,” the girl giggles, leaning her elbows on the bar. “You’re Azzi, yeah? You play so good.”

“Thank you!” Azzi gushes, flashing her dimples as the girl does just the same. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Haven,” she replies. Even her name is nice. Azzi thinks about how Paige must’ve thought the same thing when they met a few hours ago, but she doesn’t like the thought, so she pushes it firmly away.

“Hey,” Haven says, sounding suddenly hesitant. “Um, I actually wanted to ask you something. About…Paige?”

Azzi’s eyes snap to where the blonde sits at the team’s booth—she always seems to know where Paige is in a room, though she never remembers tracking her movements—before she quickly looks back to Haven. “What about her?”

“Well…that,” she says.

“What?” Azzi asks, stirring her drink casually.

“The reaction you just had to me saying her name.”

Okay, so Azzi apparently does not appear as cool and collected as she thought. “Oh, that was just—I mean, she’s my best friend.”

“Yeah?” Haven asks. “Because I kinda got the impression y’all were…”

“No,” Azzi says, trying to contort her features into something like disgust. “Ew. Never.”

Haven raises her eyebrows. “Never?”

Why is everybody deciding to clock Paige and Azzi’s shit tonight? “Okay, like, maybe at one point. But it’s over.”

“Really.” She does not sound convinced at all. Glancing over at Paige, Haven leans forward, as if she’s afraid they’ll be heard. “It’s just, she keeps looking at you and you keep looking back and she was all over you earlier, so like—“

“I wouldn’t say she was all over me.”

“She totally was.” Haven’s looking at her like she’s clueless. “I just…listen, Paige invited me over tonight.” Azzi’s stomach drops. So definitely no make-up sex then. In fact, Azzi might as well pack up her vagina right now because Paige has ruined everybody else for her, too. “And I don’t wanna get in the middle of anything,” Haven continues, completely oblivious to Azzi’s internal vow of celibacy, “especially nothing messy.”

“Yeah, no, I totally get that.” Azzi sighs heavily; considering their situation is exactly what one might describe as messy, Azzi figures it’s probably the right thing to do to tell this poor girl the truth. “To be honest, we kinda are…I dunno. I mean, we fuck.”

“Okay,” Haven nods, sounding not at all surprised.

“She stays over most of the time. I stay at her’s sometimes, but she mostly stays at mine.”

“Spare toothbrushes in each other’s bathroom?”

Azzi winces. “Possibly.”

“Yeow.”

“And, like, generally, we don’t see other people. We used to, at the beginning, but not anymore. We were just talking about it today, actually. Well, not talking about it—we don’t talk about stuff. We’re not serious enough for Paige to wanna talk about stuff.” Azzi is rambling now, and Haven is hanging onto her every word, and Azzi thinks she loves making fast friends with other girls then realizes this is the exact thing that happens every time she gets drunk. Perhaps she crossed over that line awhile ago.

The two of them have their heads close together now, the rest of the bar completely shut out. “But anyway, she said something and I was like, what, you say that to all your bitches? You know, mostly joking but not.”

“Of course.”

“And she was all, no, baby, I would never ever have other bitches, don’t be mad,” Azzi says, deepening her tone in a stupid caricature of Paige’s voice.

Haven gasps. “That was today?”

“Like ten minutes before we came here.”

“And then she was all up on me tonight.” Haven glares in Paige’s direction. “Damn.”

“I know. But like, yeah, we’re not exclusive or anything so it’s fine. But it’s not, you know?”

“Oh, for sure. That’s fucked up,” Haven says haughtily. “So, wait, how long has this been going on for?”

“Uh…six months?” but no, that doesn’t feel right. “Well, I guess, like, four years? But six months.”

Haven blinks at her.

Azzi sighs. “We were super serious in high school.”

Haven nearly screams, slamming her hand on the bar. “She’s your ex?”

“Yes!” Azzi cries, and it feels so, so good for someone to understand her situation. “We were so in love and shit! And then things started feeling weird the summer before she came here—because, like, I’m a year younger than her so she was gonna be in college while I was still in high school and I—I could tell she didn’t wanna be tied down by her lame hometown girlfriend so I ended things.”

“Girl!” Haven yells.

“I had no other choiceeee,” Azzi groans. “She woulda broken up with me if I hadn’t broken up with her.”

“You’re crazy,” Haven says, shaking her head. “That girl is down bad.”

“Stop,” Azzi says, waving her off.

“She is, horrendously.” Haven gestures over to Paige. “As soon as you got to UConn she wanted to start something with you, right? And then y’all have a little tiff and she’s doing the most with another girl just to get your attention?”

“She asked you to go home with her,” Azzi points out. “That definitely wasn’t for my benefit.”

“Um, I’m sorry, have you not noticed how scary alike we look?” Haven asks, and Azzi flushes. “She was definitely gonna pretend I was you. Which I’m not down for, like, at all.”

“She’s such a dick,” Azzi says. Because she may have been in love with Paige Bueckers since high school, but yeah, she’s still kinda a dick.

“Totally,” Haven agrees. “But…

“Don’t tell me you’re about to defend her.”

“Listen!” Haven places her hands on Azzi’s shoulder. “I think her heart’s in the right place. She wants you. She’s just a little…misguided.”

Azzi shakes her head. “She was the one who said we couldn’t be serious. She said we couldn’t have ‘distractions’.”

“And you didn’t stop to think that maybe she was still insecure and hurt by the fact you broke up with her and was protecting herself from getting hurt again?”

Azzi blinks at this drunk, genius girl in front of her. “Whoa.”

“Yeah. You know what, I’m starting to think maybe you’re both a little stupid.”

Azzi shoves her. “Don’t get so cocky, you could be wrong!”

“I could,” Haven admits. “But where would that leave you? With an asshole ex-girlfriend who messes with your head for fun?”

Azzi thinks maybe, if they didn’t look so uncannily alike, she could kiss this girl. “I love you.”

“Girl, I love you more.” Haven pats her arm and leans back on her barstool. “Now take Auntie Haven’s advice and give her the silent treatment for a few days. She’ll realize her mistakes and come running back real quick.”

“What if I don’t wanna take her back?” Azzi says, already knowing it’s bullshit.

“You do. But you gotta make her work for it. And then you have to communicate with her.”

Azzi makes a face. “Didn’t I already tell you we don’t like talking?”

Haven rubs her temples. “There’s your main fucking problem, Azzi.”

It’s then that Haven’s eyes trail to something over her shoulder and before Azzi can ask there’s a large, warm, all-too-familiar ringed hand on her shoulder. “What’re you two talking about over here?”

Azzi looks first at the hand on her shoulder, then slowly up to Paige’s face. Paige raises her eyebrows, waiting for an answer, and then Azzi looks back at Haven, meeting her eyes.

And then they laugh.

“What?” Paige nearly demands.

Azzi brushes her hand off, still giggling. “Leave us alone, Paige.”

“I just didn’t know y’all knew each other,” Paige says, and Azzi delights at how confused she sounds. “Because you two seem pretty buddy-buddy over here.”

“Didn’t realize you were watching so closely,” Haven quips. Azzi giggles.

“Never said I was.” Paige moves from behind Azzi, going to stand beside them, studying them closely. “You two are drunk as hell.”

“So are you!” Haven and Azzi both say at the same time, and tears are forming at this point. Azzi holds on to Haven’s knee to keep herself from falling off her chair.

“Aight, yeah, I’m getting you an Uber,” Paige says to Haven, before touching Azzi’s arm, “And I’ma walk you home.”

“I can get my own Uber,” Haven says haughtily, but Paige already has her phone out.

Once again, Azzi bats Paige’s hand away. “I don’t wanna go home with you.”

Paige rolls her eyes, still navigating through her phone. “I figured, Az. But we live in the same building. Just lemme walk you.”

“You’re not sober enough to walk me.”

“I’ve been drinking water for the past hour, I’m pretty much good.” Paige shuts her phone off and looks at Haven. “You car’ll be here in fifteen.”

“Wish you were pretty much good a couple hours ago,” Azzi grumbles.

Paige’s expression becomes a little less nonchalant at that. “I know, mama, we can talk about it tomorrow.”

And that almost works. But then Haven sends her a warning glare and she straightens up. “No, thanks.”

Paige’s face scrunches up like it always done when she’s shocked, and Azzi hates that it’s still the cutest thing in the world. “Whatchu mean?”

“Exactly that,” Azzi says, standing from her barstool. Her butt is sore from sitting for so long. “And I’ll walk home with the rest of the team, thanks.”

Paige splutters. Haven gives her the middle finger.

—————————————

Later, when they are walking home—stumbling, more accurately—Azzi is leaning against Aubrey when she hears familiar footfalls coming up behind them and braces herself.

“Hey, Azzi,” Paige calls, catching her arm as she catches up. “Come walk with me.”

“I wanna walk with Aubrey,” Azzi says petulantly.

Aubrey looks awkwardly between the two of them.

“Bro, just—“ Paige stops, mindful of their audience. “Let’s just talk, okay?”

“No, thanks.”

“Azzi, c’mon.”

“I’m drunk and I’m cold and I’m mad at you. Leave me alone.”

Paige looks desperately to Aubrey for help. Aubrey just shrugs and says, “What’m I supposed to do? She said what she said.”

“Thank you,” Azzi huffs.

“Man, fuck this,” Paige says. Azzi feels very satisfied when Paige falls back, leaving her alone. But her arm also tingles where Paige had caught it.

Oh, yeah. This makeup sex had better be good for the trouble she’s going through.

—————————————

It isn’t until the next day that, during a car ride with Caroline, Azzi disovers it.

The two of them have always had similar music tastes, so when an unfamiliar song comes on over the speaker, she’s a little surprised. However, as she listens to the lyrics, she finds herself even more surprised at how much they resonate with her.

I could go and read your mind

Think about your dumb face all the time

Living in your glass house I’m outside

“Hey,” she says, “what song is this?”

“That’s So True,” Caroline answers, still staring ahead at the road. “By Gracie Abrams. Why?”

Looking into big blue eyes

Did it just to hurt me, make me cry

Smiling through it all, yeah, that’s my life

“Oh,” Azzi says casually, “no reason.”

——————————————

It becomes very apparent there is a reason when, over the next week, the song becomes everyone else’s problem.

So apparent, in fact, that the team actually starts to worry about her.

“What did you do to her?” Aaliyah asks as soon as Paige walks into the apartment.

“You broke her,” Amari says.

“That stupid song kept me up all night and it’s your fault,” Aubrey continues, pointing menacingly at Paige.

“I didn’t do nothing!” Paige says, backing away from her angry friends.

“You better fix it,” Amari says. “Like, now.”

“Fix what?”

Oddly, they all go quiet at this. Paige is about to ask what’s up with them when music begins blasting from somewhere in the dorm.

“That,” Aaliyah says.

Paige scrunches her nose. “Bad pop music?”

“It is not bad,” Caroline says defensively, joining them in the entryway. When she gets judgmental looks from the other girls, she sighs. “Okay, it wasn’t bad. But Azzi’s been listening to it nonstop for a week and it used to be my favorite song and now I’m sick of it.”

“We’re all sick of it,” Amari adds unhelpfully.

“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me,” Paige says, but of course she’s lying. From what she can make out the lyrics are about a break up, maybe, something to do with jealousy and anger. With the way Azzi’s been dodging her this week (calls sent straight to voicemail, texts left on read, not even a hint of eye contact when they see each other) she knows she fucked up at the party.

It’s not like them to fight—really, it’s not. They’ve gotten into more arguments this year than they have in their entire friendship. Obviously, there’s a correlation there, something major signaling that this whole friends-with-benefits thing doesn’t work for them. Or maybe it does. Maybe it’s the whole best-friends-who-dated-then-became-exes-then-friends-with-benefits thing that they can’t do.

But either way—fights? Like, actual fights that Paige can’t talk (or kiss) their way out of? Those are rare.

She didn’t think their argument at the bar was that big a deal. Didn’t even think her flirting with another girl would make Azzi mad. (She’d been hoping for jealousy because dysfunctional as they may be, the sex is really good and it’s even better when one of them is all riled up).

She has a sneaky feeling this all has to do with that girl at the bar. Haven. The cute one who looked a lot like Azzi and seemed super into Paige until she turned around and became best friends with none other than Azzi herself. She should’ve known that would happen. Azzi always makes friends when she gets drunk.

She just wishes this bout of silence (and celibacy) between them would end already.

“You can’t be serious,” Amari says.

Paige shrugs.

“We all know you two are fucking, Paige,” Caroline says quite bluntly.

And, okay, the sheer panic that Paige feels at this is maybe a little ridiculous.

She never wanted the team—anyone, really—to know she and Azzi were back together. Because, well, they weren’t, for one, and there’s no good way to tell your parents, “Hey, you know how I was super emo about how the love of my life broke up with me before college? Yeah, well, it’s been a year and I’m not totally over it but I fucked her in the bathroom at a club and we’re going steady—as in, fucking—now!”

But the main reason she didn’t want anybody to know is because she was—is—so afraid of having her heart broken again. And if she keeps this to herself, then she gets to act like she doesn’t care if history repeats itself. Gets to move on and not think about it and use other people as rebounds without anybody batting an eye.

But it’s been six months of them going from friends with benefits to best friends who also kiss and have sex to best friends who kiss and have sex exclusively with each other. She may have gotten a little too cocky, may have thought they were finding solid ground, and may have not put so much effort into hiding it.

But Azzi hasn’t spoken to her for a week and she doesn’t even remember what solid ground feels like anymore so yeah, the notion of her friends knowing about them when they may be on the brink of ending is a little scary.

“Okay,” Amari says tentatively when Paige stares blankly at them, “don’t freak. It’s not a big deal. We don’t care.”

“No, I—I know,” Paige stutters.

“Seriously, P, it’s cool,” Aubrey says, patting her shoulder. “Just, you know, go fix it.”

That song has played three consecutive times since this conversation started. They may be right. Paige might’ve broken her.

Might’ve broken them.

“And while you’re at it,” Caroline adds, giving her a little push in the direction of Azzi’s room, “make sure you guys are official so we don’t have to deal with this again.”

Paige tries to plant her feet to prevent her advance towards Azzi, but Aubrey rounds to her front and starts pulling at her arms while Amari pushes and then she’s directly in front of a door with a pink ‘welcome’ sign hanging off the front. As that song thuds accusingly through the door, Paige doesn’t feel very welcome.

“Okay, stop being a pussy,” Aaliyah pipes up from behind them, “and go in there. Please.”

“Make it stop,” Aubrey says. She almost sounds like she’s about to cry.

Paige stares at them, wondering if they’re really going to make her do this. But they all nod at her before disappearing down the hall so it’s just Paige in front of Azzi’s door and she could leave, could just go back home but she’d never hear the end of it from her teammates. (And she might end up hating herself if she does that, too.)

So, with a deep, steadying breath, Paige lifts her fist and knocks.

“Coming,” Azzi calls. Blessedly, the song turns off and there’s some rustling inside before the door creaks open.

Paige expects a lot of things when Azzi first sees her—anger, upset, a door slamming in her face.

What she doesn’t expect is the satisfied smile that flits across Azzi’s face before she carefully fixes her expression into something more somber.

“Uh, hey,” Paige says. “Can I—“

“Come in,” Azzi says gravely, opening the door all the way to let her through.

“Uh, aight.” Nervously, Paige walks past Azzi, a little afraid that is some sort of trap based off the strange way she’s acting. Once she’s inside and the door’s shut, she faces the younger girl, though doesn’t quite look her in the eye. “So, I just…you know, about the other night. At Ted’s.”

Azzi nods. “Go on.”

“Well, I know I started that lil argument and I feel bad.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I was just drunk and I wanted your attention so I acted stupid.”

Azzi crosses her arms impatiently. Paige wishes she had written this down and practiced beforehand or something.

“And with that other girl—“

“Her name’s Haven,” Azzi says sharply.

Paige blinks at her, surprised. “Yeah. Her. Well—“

“She’s actually really nice. We’ve been texting.”

Paige can’t help but scoff a little at that. “What, you gonna leave me for her or sum’?”

“We look related, so no,” Azzi says, raising an eyebrow. “And if I remember right, I thought it was you asking her to come to your place that night.”

Shit. So the two of them really did talk about everything. That’s not great for her.

“I didn’t mean it,” Paige says, which is very much true—she doesn’t know what she would’ve done if Haven had agreed to come over that night, but she certainly wouldn’t have kissed her. “I just, we were arguing and I wanted to make you jealous so we could, like, kiss and make up.”

Azzi crosses the room to sit on her bed, and Paige hovers awkwardly, wondering if she should follow. She decides on staying put. “I was jealous,” Azzi says. “But it just pissed me off.”

“I know, and it was a stupid thing to do.”

“I just—I thought we weren’t really, like, seeing other people.”

Paige freezes. This is completely outside of argument-at-Ted’s territory and it seems a little more like serious-talk-about-us time. Which Paige is just not prepared for at all. She should’ve made notecards for this.

“I mean—we aren’t—but, like…” Paige trails off, and she knows it’s bad how uncertain she sounds when hurt flashes over Azzi’s expression.

“Have you? Been seeing other people,” she asks, and Paige can tell she’s trying to sound nonchalant, putting on a brave face, but in reality she’s terrified of the answer.

Paige rushes to reassure her. “No, Az, no. Not a—seriously, not a single person. Not since that day at the club.” Not since the day Azzi came to UConn, if she’s being a little more accurate. But Azzi doesn’t need to know that.

Again, Azzi tries to act like it doesn’t affect her. But Paige knows her far too well—far too intimately—to miss the way her features relax, her shoulders lowering just a little bit. “Me neither,” she says softly.

Paige lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding at that. “Okay.”

“So…what does that mean?” Azzi asks tentatively.

Now that Azzi seems a little less guarded, Paige takes her chance to sit beside her on the bed, though not too close. “I dunno,” she says lamely, but when she’s met with a heavily annoyed silence, she sighs and tries desperately to think something up. “I mean. We can’t really be casual and exclusive. That’s not really how that works.”

“Yeah,” Azzi says.

Paige waits for her to pick up the conversation at least a little, but she doesn’t, and Paige is forced to go on. “I don’t—I think it’s not even something I want anymore. The whole casual thing.”

It’s hard, getting the words out, like each syllable is a barrier being broken, and maybe it is. Paige looks down at her hands, fiddles with them, anything so she doesn’t have to watch Azzi’s reaction.

“Paige,” Azzi says quietly.

And when Paige catches the hesitancy in her tone—the fear—she is suddenly too desperate and maybe even too in love to keep quiet just because it’s hard. Because she can’t do this, not again. She can’t watch Azzi walk away without at least putting up a fight.

“I know what I did was wrong,” Paige blurts out before Azzi can say anything else. She looks up, stares at the wall ahead, before turning to Azzi. She tries to detect the look in her eyes and what it may mean, but can’t. “At Ted’s. And I’m sorry. I guess I just—these past six months have been so—I mean, they’ve been good, but they’ve also been super fucking confusing and kinda scary, too. It’s like I’m always on edge waiting for you to end things, so whenever we get too close to how we were—before, in high school—I back out, no matter how hard it is. No matter how good it feels to have you again.”

Azzi opens her mouth, the beginning of a word escaping, but Paige’s heart races and she stands, stopping her. “But I’m realizing that I don’t think I can do that with you. I don’t think I can be just friends with you, or friends with benefits, or even whatever the hell it is we’ve been doing. Every day since you ended things I’ve been a fucking wreck, Azzi.” And it’s true. Her freshmen year had been hard, spent sleeping with random caramel-skinned, dimpled girls to try and fill the Azzi-shaped void in her heart. And the summer after was hell, too, reconnecting with Azzi long-distance and trying to become friends again, acting like they were never anything more. And the past six months has been the worst of it all, because having Azzi but not really having her, keeping her at an arm’s length and teetering on this edge of will she do it again and when will it happen proving almost painful.

Azzi stands, too, stepping in front of her, tilting her chin just slightly up to make eye contact like she’s always had to do. “I didn’t want that, Paige,” she says, almost as if she’s pleading. “I wanted—I thought you’d have more fun if you were single. I thought you’d resent me for, like, tying you down.”

Paige looks at Azzi for a solid few seconds, trying to discern whether she’s fucking with her. And when Azzi doesn’t laugh or tell her this was all a stupid prank she turns around, pushes her hand through her hair, and then faces her again. “Are you fucking for real?”

“Yeah,” Azzi says sheepishly. “I thought—I don’t know. I was also sixteen and stupid and insecure, and I just wanted to make you happy. I didn’t think about what I wanted.” She looks down at her feet. “Didn’t realize how hard it’d be.”

“Yeah, you were stupid,” Paige snaps, and when Azzi flinches, she takes a step towards her. “You really thought that I’d—what, not want you? Want to fucking break up so I could hoe around?”

“Kind of!” Azzi says, throwing her hands in the air. “Things already felt off that summer before you left—“

“Because I didn’t want to leave you!” Paige practically shouts, and she wonders briefly why they never bothered to discuss this before. “I had no idea what I was gonna do when we were so far apart, but you know what? We could have handled it. We could’ve handled a year. I wanted to handle it, if it meant we could stay together.” She takes another step closer, so they’re face-to-face now. “I thought you were bored of me or sum’, you know? I was so fucking hurt.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you!” Azzi cries. “Obviously I wasn’t bored, Paige, or I wouldn’t have jumped your fucking bones the minute I got to school.”

“And obviously I didn’t wanna be single or I wouldn’t have let you!”

Silence washes over them, and Paige is sure she could hear a pin drop, almost as sure as she is that their teammates are thoroughly listening to this argument outside the door. But she doesn’t care. Not when she’s looking close-up at the girl she’s loved forever and seeing her for the first time in almost two years—inches apart without hidden hurt or secret regrets tucked between them.

They’re both breathing heavy, both affected by everything they’ve just said and everything that still needs to be said but it’s not a surprise that they hold each other’s gazes, both too stubborn to be the first to look away.

And when the eye contact becomes too much for Paige to bear, she decides she will not chicken out, will not let her trepidations hold her back this time. And she leans forward and kisses her.

They’ve kissed—a million times, probably. Maybe more. At this point, they’ve learned each other down to the last breath, the last hair on their heads. They know exactly where to put their hands, exactly how to tell what the other is feeling based off the way they move their lips, exactly what things to say in between kisses. But despite all that, this—this feels brand new. Gentle, and tentative, but excited, too, like they know it’s the mark of something different. Something better.

———————————-

A week later, when Paige appears at her doorstep with a nervous little smile and flowers to take her on their second-first date, Paige asks her about the ‘lame girly song’ she’d been playing on repeat. Azzi tells her the song is not, in fact, lame, and is actually really quite good. She doesn’t admit that she can’t listen to it anymore.

(And, because I know you’re all wondering—yes, the makeup sex was as good as Azzi’d hoped.)

#lilah’s works #this is so stupid #but i kinda love it #this was so fun to writeeee #can’t wait to write the smut scene 😈#hope yall like #pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi fics

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sarastial · 3 months ago

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bus crush

ellie williams x reader

summary: your heavenly perfume catches ellie’s attention on the bus, and she can’t help but stare.

(university! ellie; implied femme reader)

a/n: i’ve been writing for years and this is my first published fic ever lol .. kinda nervy but i hope you enjoy it!

──────────────────────

Ellie Williams was drenched when she finally got on the bus that drove to and from the student housing complexes — drenched and shivering and exhausted. She had been on campus attending her back-to-back lectures all day (Tuesdays were her worst days) without so much as a thirty minute break between classes, and was beat by the time she got to the bus stop. It didn’t help that it was the peak of December, just before finals and winter break. That meant bone-rattling storms that almost shook the shitty old university buildings — which were definitely in need of some TLC, by the way — and Ellie’s overused umbrella getting fucked up with the rain and wind beating it down.

She closes said umbrella as she steps further into the bus, attempting to shake off as much water as she can from its tattered waterproof fabric before glancing up to scan for a seat.

Just my luck, Ellie thinks to herself with an internal sigh, finding every possible seat occupied by one of her equally drenched, shivering peers. She moves over to the side of the bus where there were already a couple of students standing and holding onto the cloth handles hanging from the roof of the vehicle. Ellie opts to squeeze the handrail instead, waiting for the bus to start moving. A few stragglers come in, and the bus finally departs from the station.

Someone moves to stand between Ellie and another student, cramping up the already tight space. Ellie’s about to scowl in the student’s direction when the scent of vanilla and cinnamon hits her nose.

Holy shit, she blinks, inhaling as deeply as she can without looking odd and/or slightly off-putting, Someone smells like a damn bakery.

She dares to spare a darting glance sideways at the person standing next to her … then a second, then a third. There was no doubt in Ellie’s mind that the girl who stood there, leaning into the condensation-riddled window of the bus and gazing down at the small, tattered paperback book in her hands with her old-school wired earbuds in, was the person who smelled so divine. She looked just like she smelled, nice and warm and pretty and yummy and —

Ellie inhales sharply, looking away and biting the inside of her cheek. Her hand comes up to tuck a loose, damp strand of her choppy, auburn hair behind her ear, gaze trained on the view outside through the foggy glass bus door that was right across from where she stood. The sight of the rain pouring down onto the dark, dampened streets of her little college town distracts her for a while. She waits for a few moments before stealing a longer glance at the girl and taking her in — from her long, perfectly manicured fingernails and mixture of dainty and chunky rings to the bootcut jeans she wore that somehow managed to hug her in all the right places.

Ellie feels a bit intimidated by how put-together the girl looks, by how different the two of them are appearance-wise. Her own nails are short and blunt from her nervous habit of chewing on them, and her clothes are baggy — wide legged jeans that are soaked at the bottom hems from walking through puddles all day and a zip-up hoodie with rolled up sleeves to show off her sick new tattoo. But Ellie really, really, really wanted to talk to the girl. She wanted to ask her about what she was reading, about what she was listening to, about what perfume she was wearing and about how the hell she managed to look so pretty after being out in a rainstorm.

She’s definitely straight, Ellie deflates slightly, pressing her teeth into her chapped bottom lip and furrowing her eyebrows, deep in thought.

Ellie doesn’t even realize that she’s still staring at the pretty, nice smelling girl until she’s met with a pair of eyes and a small, confused smile. She freezes up, enthralled by the new angle of the girl’s face.

She’s looking at you …

She’s looking at you! Look away, dumbass!

Ellie clears her throat and whips her head back to face the door of the bus in front of her, blinking fervently and internally cursing herself as she tries to play off her staring. It’s too late, for sure. She’s already made herself look like a creep, watching the girl while she minded her own business.

Damn it. Way to play it cool.. She squeezes the handrail a little tighter as the bus turns, trying her best not to sway in the girl’s direction as the vehicle lurches sideways. She didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself.

Ellie’s internally pouring over that slightest, faintest smile that the girl had given her when a voice breaks through her thoughts, soft and mellow.

“I like your tattoo.”

Ellie’s mind doesn’t even have the time to process the fact that it’s her, it’s the girl, and that she’s talking to Ellie and she’s complimenting Ellie and that Ellie should reply and say something and —

She turns her head a little too quickly, gaze flickering over to the girl at her side. Sure enough, she’s smiling again. She’s waiting for a response.

“Oh, uh,” Ellie spurts, tucking that damn strand that kept spilling back into her eyes back behind her ear, “Thanks. Just got it a few weeks ago.”

She takes in the girl’s silent nod of acknowledgment, heart pounding in her ear. They just look at each other for a moment. Then, the girl slowly turns back to her book, lowering her gaze and tentatively flipping a page. Her lashes fan out against her cheeks in a way that makes Ellie sure she’s some goddess in disguise sent down to earth to bait a poor mortal like herself.

“I like your smell,” Ellie blurts before her mind catches up, watching as the girl turns back towards her with a small, amused smile forming on her face. “I mean, I like the way you smell. Like, your perfume. It’s nice.”

Ellie winces internally, wanting more than anything to kick open the emergency exit and run back to her dorm and crawl under her covers and die. But the girl laughs — she laughs — and Ellie’s scuffed up boots stay planted firmly on the floor, so she doesn’t move.

“Thank you,” the girl replies, warm gaze sweeping over Ellie’s burning, freckled face. It’s obvious that her laugh wasn’t meant to be a mean one.

Ellie feels heat gather in her face and turns to look at the handrail she’s squeezing, studying it as if it were the most interesting thing on the bus. But it wasn’t. It definitely wasn’t, not with that pretty girl standing so close to her. But she can’t find it in herself to say anything else, so she just keeps staring at the handrail until the bus comes to a screeching halt.

It’s her stop.

Ellie hesitates for a fleeting moment, wanting more than anything to ask for her name or something. Instead, she lets go of the handrail and picks up her umbrella, sparing one last look at the girl — who’s too caught up in her novel to notice — before stepping off the bus into the biting wind and pouring rain.

Unbeknownst to her, the girl peeks up from her book with a small, giddy smile to watch her go just as the bus doors close.

#ellie williams #ellie #tlou #tlou ellie #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie willams x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you

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ashwhowrites · 9 days ago

Note

Oooh! I caught them this time! Yay!! I always miss ur requests! I’m so excitedddddd! 🤩

Can I ask for a Steve Harrington x reader fic w/ breeding kink? Like maybe he and reader have been together for a min and they’re out w/ Dusty and between watching him with the younger boy and maybe smiling and waving at a random baby reader is kinda watching him dreamy. So once they get a sec alone he’s like what? And she just smiles and is like “ur gonna be such a good dad”. And it DOES something to Steve. He plays cool and questions her like oh u think about that huh? And she’s like of course, I can’t wait to have ur babies. And Steve is like alright goodbye, drags her out and takes her home and smut breeding breedy smut.

Please and thank youuuuu 🤤 I love ur writing and def love ur Steve. I’ve never requested before and the anticipation is killing me already lol!!

Last one from my drafts :( none of this is proofread, apologies if it's a mess. I hope you find this and are still interested!!

Baby talk

It was common for Steve to hangout with Dustin. It was sorta babysitting in a way but Steve didn't feel that way. Y/N loved hanging with with her boyfriend and enjoyed when Dustin tagged along. It warmed her heart seeing Steve take care of Dustin and the friendship they had.

At first she thought it was sweet and adorable. But now that they've been together for over two years, thinking of their future together and growing more serious by the day, seeing him interact with all the kids sparked something inside of her.

It wasn't a surprise to see Dustin in the backseat as Steve pulled up to her place. She smiled at the young boy through the window before she entered Steve's car.

"How are my boys doing?" She asked as she clicked in her seatbelt, leaning over to greet her boyfriend with a soft kiss. Dustin pretended to gag behind them before he greeted her.

"Good. Dustin was telling me all about Hellfire....again," Steve said with a tight smile. A look in his eyes that Y/N could easily read as annoyed. She giggled and turned her attention to Dustin as he began to talk about it all over again, Steve peeling off down the road.

It didn't take long to wind up at the small restaurant, Steve as the gentlemen he was rushed out of the car to open her door. She thanked him as she slid out of the car, grasping his hand as they walked in, Dustin a few feet behind.

They settled at their table, a small giggle catching their attention. The couple turned their heads and saw a mom with a toddler at a table near by. The boy was clapping and there was a gummy smile on his face. Y/N returned her attention back to Dustin but Steve was in a trance. The little boy kept his eyes locked with Steve as he waved. Steve smiled and waved back.

All throughout their small lunch, Y/N couldn't look away from Steve as he entertained the toddler. The toddler loved him and Y/N couldn't blame him, she'd stare at Steve all day too. Which she has done and which she has been doing for the past hour. A dreamy look in her eyes as he made faces to the toddler.

Steve noticed his girlfriend's stare. Every time he looked back at her, she was already looking at him. A small smile on her face. Dustin filled the car ride with another story, but Y/N's mind was racing. She knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Steve, but damn she wanted to have his babies the second they got home. She wanted to be claimed by him and bounded together for life. To have the pride of bringing a baby into Steve's life.

She was lost in her daydream that she didn't notice Dustin got out of the car until the door slammed.

"What's up with you? You've been smiling all day," Steve laughed, giving her a quick look before he pulled off down the road.

"Nothing, just seeing you with that little boy. You're going to be such a good dad," she replied honestly. She thought the words would make Steve a little nervous, but he seemed to have an opposite reaction.

Steve felt his face burn and a twitch in his jeans. He thought about kids but hearing his girlfriend admit she noticed he would be a good dad excited him. He tried to not make it a big deal, playing it cool as he looked back over at her.

"Oh! You think about that?" He asked

"All the time. I can't wait to have little Steve babies," she joked even though she meant it. But Steve didn't crack a smile or laugh, he had this focused look on his face as his foot slammed down on the gas petal.

"Steve! You're speeding!" She scolded, looking at the speedometer.

"I don't care. I need to get you naked in my bed now," his voice was deep and serious. Her playful attitude shifted as she felt her thighs clench.

"Oh?" She teased, her hand moving to land on his thigh. She slowly slid it up, enjoying the way his breath hitched. "Do you have a secret kink you are hiding from me?"

Steve rolled his eyes at her teasing, but he couldn't help but melt in his seat as her hand moved closer to his covered cock. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles went white as her hand landed over his growing hard-on.

"Look at that," she whispered as she leaned over to his ear. Her hot breath fanned his neck as he harshly swallowed. "I should've known."

Steve somehow pressed harder against the gas, the car zooming down the street as he headed in the direction of his house. His breathing was heavy as she rubbed him over his jeans, teasing him the whole way.

He could barely think as he pulled into his driveway, moving fast as he raced them both out of the car, Y/N barely keeping up as he yanked her into the house. As usual the house was empty, leaving them alone.

Steve didn't waste a second before his lips were pressed against hers. She moaned into his mouth as his hands moved to undo her pants, slipping them off. He placed his hands under her thighs, making her jump as she wrapped herself around his body. He moaned into the kiss as her warm cunt pressed against his jeans. He stumbled into his room, blindly searching for his bed as he dropped her on the mattress.

Their lips disconnected as her back landed against his sheets. She propped herself on her elbows as he stood over her and removed his shirt. She moaned as his hairy chest came into view, her hands already reaching forward to run her fingers through it. She loved Steve's chest hair, it added so much manly potential to him and it drove her insane.

Steve reconnected their lips as she played with his chest hair, he showered underneath her touch his cock growing harder. He softly pushed her down, climbing on top of her as they were messily made out. His hands skimmed up her body, his fingers teased the band of her underwear. Her stomach was rising up and down with every fast intake of breath.

His tongue met hers and she couldn't help but whine. His fingers slid into her underwear until he met her soaked cunt. Her hands moved into his hair as she braced herself when his fingers easily slipped inside of her.

Her insides burned as he fingered her, he moaned as her tongue worked against his. She made his head fuzzy and all he could focus on was how badly he wanted to fuck her until she was screaming under him. He wanted to cum inside of her, paint her walls and put a baby inside of her.

Needing air, she pulled back. Her eyes rolling in the back of her head as Steve's skillful fingers worked inside of her. Steve looked down at her, his eyes full of lust as he watched her body.

"Steve, please," she whines, her eyes fluttering open. She moaned at the look in his eyes, they were dark, needy, and desperate. She loved having all the power over him, that she had him wrapped around her finger.

"What do you want, baby?" He asked, his voice thick with arousal. He kept his pace, loving how she sucked him in and coated him with her wetness.

"Fuck me. I want you inside of me," she moaned, "I want you to fill me."

Her words edged Steve on, his fingers curling up as she withered under him. "Yeah? Your sweet pussy wants to be stuffed full of daddy's cum?"

Y/N's body reacted to his words, easily showing him he said the right thing. She tried to speak but nothing came out but choked whines. He leaned down and softly kissed down her body, removing his fingers as he became eye level with her dripping cunt. Her hands lost its grip on his hair, reaching for the sheets below. He slid her underwear down her legs, tossing them to the side.

She twitched as she waited for his next move, impatiently. Steve took his time, his cock was suffocating in his pants but he forced himself to deal with it. He grabbed her ankles and placed them on his shoulders, she squealed as he used his fingers to spread her pussy open. He drooled at the sight, leaning in as he pressed his tongue flat against her. He licked up and down, coating his tongue. Her throat was dry as her sounds all cracked. She dove her fingers into his messy hair, forcing his head further against her.

He groaned at the taste on his tongue, his eyes rolling back as he sucked on her clit. He loved hearing her sounds and knowing he was the only one that got to see her like this. He was the only one who got to taste her. And he was going to be the only one to put a baby in her.

"Yes, Steve, fuck," she praised, her hips rocking against his face as she felt an orgasm approaching. Steve just needed a small taste of her, a smirk on his face as he pulled away. Leaving her and her cunt begging for more.

She wanted to groan in protest but knew how to behave. Steve had no problem giving her anything she wanted if she was good about it.

"Pretty pussy is pulsing for me. So needy. Sweet girl is in heat huh? Craving my thick cock to satisfy you?" His dirty words made her shiver. She began to whine pathetically, her mind all mush as she reached for Steve's skin.

He stepped back to strip the rest of his clothes. She fought to keep her eyes open, looking at his naked body from head to toe. Her eyes zoned in on his throbbing cock. He began to softly pump it, the action making her head spin. She could study his body for hours. She's had sex plenty of times with Steve but his cock amazes her every time. He was thick and veiny, and she clenched her thighs as she replayed what it feels like inside of her.

"Come on daddy, breed my little cunt," she said as she spread open her legs. Desperately needing him to slide inside of her.

Steve was quick to position himself on top of her, holding his throbbing cock against her entrance. He guided himself inside of her, instantly moaning as her cunt began to suck him in.

"How long have you been thinking about having my babies? How long have you been wanting my cock raw inside of you?"

Y/N hated that he asked questions because she couldn't think of a single word. All she could give as a response was moans and whines as he begins to pound her. Her nails gripped his neck, holding his head as he moved perfectly inside of her.

"I've been fantasizing about pumping my sperm inside of you every single day. Jerking myself off as I picture how perfect you'd feel around me raw and bare. And fu-ck, better than I imagined," he moaned out his words as he moved his hands on the sides of her head, using the leverage to push himself deeper.

"Daddy's cum- starved breeding whore" he growled

"Oh fuckkkkk," she whined, the nickname brought her closer to the edge. "Close, please."

Steve moved one hand down their bodies, easily finding her clit. Her thighs shook as her clit burned with need.

With how turned on she was in the car ride, she barely could hold it together as his cock and fingers on her clit brought her to a new level. She clenched around him and Steve knew she was close.

"That's it, milk me sweetheart. I know you want it. I know that slutty pussy wants my hot cum painting your walls. All my sperm emptied inside of you."

"Jesus Steve," she breathlessly laughed. She's never heard his mouth so dirty but fuck it worked well. "You're so fucking hot like this."

"Yeah? Want me to fuck you raw every day until I get you pregnant? Have you whenever I want you. Don't even need to wear panties, stay bare for me. Let me slip in when I feel the need to empty my balls inside of you?"

"Yes, fuck, yes. Please please. I need to cum," she begged. Even if she wanted to wait for an answer, she wasn't able to. Her body snapped and she came.

Steve shivered as he felt her cum on him. He puffed air out of his nose as he focused on his release. Her hands skimmed down his back, landing on his ass as she pushed him further inside of her.

"Come on, daddy. Fill me up. I want your cum, every last drop. Breed me, give me a baby. Show everyone how well you filled me up. How I belong to you."

A shiver ran up Steve's spine at her words, firing his body up as he gripped her hips and pounded himself harder into her. Her head was thrown back as she tried to handle the new pace. Her cunt was aching but he felt way too good inside of her.

"Fuck gonna fill you up until your belly is swollen. Not going to-" he moaned, "stop until...fuck...until I breed you."

He felt his orgasm building, desperately chasing it as the bed squeaked underneath them. His body was beginning to sweat. Drops dripping down his neck and Y/N craved to taste it on her tongue.

"Right there, yes, yes, fuck yes," Steve moaned as he came. His body shook uncontrollably as he emptied himself inside of her. He panted as he rested his head against her forehead, catching his breath as he continued to push himself into her. His eyes bored into hers as he let her cunt milk him for everything he has.

He collapsed on her body, still inside of her, as he finished. His heart raced as he continued to catch his breath. Their sweaty bodies sticking together as they both sat in silence. Both feeling his cum resting inside of her.

"God, I love you," he whispered against her skin. He shifted to see her face, leaning in to softly peck her lips. "I can't wait to marry you."

Her heart swelled at his words as she reconnected their lips.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington smut x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut x female reader #steve harrington requests #ashwhowrites #steve Harrington breed kink #steve Harrington fluff x reader

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keeira2 · 4 months ago

Text

I’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

stalkerexbf!rafe x fem!reader

masterlist

summary: life takes a weird turn when your introduced with an anonymous stalker. but everything changes when he breaks into your house and your met with him face to face..

warnings: crazy!rafe, pantie stealing?, creepy!rafe, rafe threatens you with a gun, sort of cnc, heavy on the smut, CNC, spit kink, degrading kink, tied up reader, soft!rafe at the end? MDNI 18+!! if i miss any pls lmk

a/n: this is kinda long whoops, not rlly proof read so ignore any mistakes pls. it’s also rlly kinky js giving everyone a heads up. hope you guys like it :3

after another long shift at the pelican yacht club, you’re finally home. throwing your keys onto the kitchen bench nd undress for ur shower. which was what you desperately needed after serving snobby kooks for the past six hours. you let the hot water fall down your body. scrubbing ur scalp and body clean of any grime from the day.

wrapped in ur towel, you walk to ur bedroom to get dressed. grabbing a baggy tee nd a lacy thong. as ur going thru ur lingerie drawer, you notice ur favourite pair of black panties missing? which was weird because you remember folding them nd placing them in there the night before.

you brush past it, getting dressed nd collapsing onto the bed to watch murder documentaries. after less than half the episode, you find urself drifting into a deep sleep.

days, even weeks go by, your daily routine unphased. another closing shift at work, you grab ur belongings nd start to walk home. usually you’d catch the bus, but when you close it’s already 10pm nd there aren’t any buses running this late to the cut. so you walk home, wrapped in ur fur hoodie trying to ignore the cold air.

it’s only a 10 minute walk to get home, which has never been a problem especially bc you know most ppl in the cut. but this time you feel a burning gaze shooting right thru you.

you shiver, partly because it’s cold but mostly bc you have an overbearing feeling that ur being watched. you hear a rustling in the bushes behind you, which could’ve been the wind but you were NOT taking any chances. so you start to run, not looking back. you don’t stop until you get home, quickly unlocking the door nd slamming it closed behind you.

you make sure to lock all the doors and windows before hopping in the shower, which helped you shake the creepy feeling off of you. you heat up some popcorn nd snuggle under your covers.

ur trying to pick a movie to watch, occasionally leaning over to grab a handful of popcorn you hear your phone ‘ding!’. lazily reaching over to grab and check it, you freeze when ur gaze lands on the message.

unknown number: you don’t need to run away from me, doll. was js making sure you got home safe ;)

someone was following you. oh my god. you sat still for a moment, still in shock. how did they get your number? how long have they been following you? you basically led them to your home, do they know where you live now?

millions of thoughts racing through ur head, you couldn’t help but text back, your hands shaking over the letters.

you: who are you???? please leave me alone.

before you can even shut ur phone off, another ‘ding!’ catches your attention like he was waiting for your response.

unknown number: you’ll find out who i am soon enough. i’m just looking after you, don’t be scared, doll.

what does he mean i’ll found out soon enough? is he gonna come after me? did he follow me home? you’re literally shaking in fear now, ur mind racing with different possibilities.

you: please. leave me alone.

you see he’s typing, but stops. he doesn’t text you for the rest of the night, maybe he listened and he’s actually gonna leave you alone. you were just hoping that maybe it was a prank from ur friends. anything except the fact that you might actually have a stalker.

you struggle to fall asleep that night. tossing and turning in your bed, desperately trying to calm yourself. ‘the doors are locked, nobody can get in. ur okay’ you reassure yourself.

a few days go by and you start to notice more panties going missing. what the fuck? you’re left with only a few pairs now, and there’s no way you’ve just misplaced them. the realisation dawns on you. what if he’s been here. has he been in ur house??

you try calming yourself down. ensuring every window nd door is locked. sitting back down ur cozy bed, u slip under the covers and bring ur knees up to your chest in a fetal position. your breathing is heavy while u hold ur head in ur hands. you quietly sob. ur so scared. you’ve only been living by yourself for 6 months and you were scared then. why me??

you didn’t even realise how much time had gone by or when you’d gotten tired. but you rub your closed eyes, letting out a big yawn and stretching your arms out. but when you finally open them, you freeze.

a man is standing in ur room, looking right at you. you can’t muster up the courage to say anything so you just stare back completely still, unable to see his face.

“hey doll, you miss me?” a familiar voice asks, stepping closer.

your mouth falls agape. no. no. no. no. no. this cannot be happening. you’d ended things with him MONTHS ago after he started acting out, getting angry all the time, threatening to hurt you and being literally insane. you blink ur tears away, one managing to roll down ur cheek.

“r-rafe..?” you whisper, if the house wasn’t completely silent he wouldn’t have been able to hear you.

“you’re so pretty when ur sleeping, baby.” taking a step closer to you now. you try to move backwards but ur back already pressed against the bed frame. u see him reach behind him, pulling what looks like a gun out of his back pocket.

“n-no, no please.. what are you doing?” you ask shakily, trying to back away further away from him to the other side of the bed.

he sighs, “i don’t wanna have to use this, doll,” shaking the gun in his hand to refer to it,” just listen to what i say and don’t give me a reason to hurt you, alright?”

you tremble with fear, “please, rafe, please leave.. i wont tell anyone. just please” you plead with him. praying that he’ll just go and never come back, even tho you know deep down that’s not gonna happen.

“m’sorry, no can do,” taking another step foward until he’s standing over you, ”missed you so much, can’t leave now.”

his words made your heart flutter, you couldn’t help it. you couldn’t deny the way ur thighs clenched together at the thought of him putting in all this effort just to see you. why are you like this oh my god?? no. u want him to leave. you need him to leave.

after a second of hesitation you finally ask “..what do you want, rafe?” wiping a tear from ur face.

he sits down across from you on the bed, holding the gun up to face you. ‘he’s only doing this to scare you.. he would never actually hurt you’ you try convincing yourself.

“aw come on, don’t be like that, angel” his hand grazing ur knee, before placing his large hand inbetween them to gently pull ur legs apart, “i bet ur so wet right now, so desperate f’me.” he groans nd u notice the massive buldge in his jeans.

u shake ur head, “no, rafe,” you sob again, “please go.” he brings the hand that’s holding the gun to your face, pushing the hair out of ur face with it, “sh sh, it’s okay.. ur okay. save the tears for when i’m done with you, alright?”

you don’t know if that’s reassurance or a threat but either way you feel your pussy getting wetter, his hand travelling lower until its resting on ur plush thigh.

“i need you to stay still, baby, or ur gonna get hurt.” he warns sternly before standing up and reaching for his back pocket again, pulling out a thick rope. u already know how this is gonna go.

he snatches both ur hands nd goes to tie them to the headboard. u squirm nd use ur trembling body to try and push him off, he doesn’t budge until u slap his face. his face turning back to you slowly, a hand against his jaw with a smirk.

“what did i just say? hm? ur gonna regret that, doll, makin me do things i rlly didn’t wanna do.” with a harsh grip he snatches ur wrists again, ur body squirming trying to release your arms but to no avail. when ur wrists are tied down, you whince, the pressure making you sore.

he reaches down to grip ur face and pulls you in to a desperate, hungry kiss. he hovers over you, pulling ur legs apart with his body. his tongue invading your mouth. as much as you hated this, you couldn’t help but kiss him back.

when he finally pulls away he wastes no time in ripping off ur shirt, “no bra, hm? knew you wanted this.” he groans and attaches his lips to ur tits, licking and sucking at ur nipples causing you to let out a series of faint moans.

rafe pulls away, snatching ur knees to spread your legs apart wide. eyeing you down, admiring the wet patch he’s created through ur panties. he lays on his stomach infront of you, giving ur thighs open mouth kisses.

“r-rafe, please..hmmpf” u whine. u don’t know if ur asking him to stop or if u want him to do more. ur so ashamed.

“please what, doll? use ur words cmon.” he teases ur swollen clit with his thumb, over the fabric of ur soaked panties.

when u don’t respond, his big hand slaps your pussy, causing you to let out a scream. “i said use ur fucking words” he raises his voice at you.

“p-please, eat me out,” u whimper when he rubs circles over ur clit, “need you.” that was enough to please him. so he tugs ur panties off, sliding them off ur legs and his tongue was licking a long stripe thru ur folds. “u taste so good, baby” he mumbles into you. without any warning, he inserts two fingers and thrusts mercilessly, now sucking ur puffy clit.

you let out a scream, or a moan, you didn’t know what it was but he makes you feel so so good. almost made you forget how he’s been breaking into your house and stalking you.

u tug to wrap your hands in his hair but remember ur wrists are tightly bound. he’s holding u down with one hand and fucking you with the other.

you feel yourself getting close, clenching around his fingers. u start to squirm, lifting your hips so he can get deeper but he detaches his mouth from ur clit and pulls out his drenched fingers.

“..why’d you stop?” you whimper, desperate for your release.

“youll cum when i say you can.” your eyes pleading with him but he shakes his head. “now your gonna take my cock like the filthy slut you are.” reaching for his belt nd yanking his jeans nd boxers off.

he starts teasing your folds with his cock, making you squirm even more. you know this is wrong. he’s insane. but you can’t help but enjoy his torment.

suddenly he roughly thrusts into you, without letting you adjust, pounding into you ruthlessly. the sounds of your skins clapping, his heavy grunts and your screams echo the room.

your legs unconsciously wrap around his waist. his hands grip onto your hips tightly, surely leaving bruises for you in the morning. “r-rafe, fuck, please sto-“ you screech when he goes in deeper. “fucking take it, quit complaining.” he yells before taking your tit in one hand, teasing your nipple inbetween his fingers.

he knew your body so well. you hated it. if this was anybody else you wouldn’t have been enjoying it like you are now. but it’s rafe. even when he was acting crazy in your relationship, he always made sure you knew how much he loved and cared for you. how he would do anything for you.

you can feel your release finally coming. you clench around his cock, silently begging he’ll let you cum. but to no avail, he pulls out. he unwraps your legs and sits over your chest. “open.” when you don’t comply he grabs your jaw and sticks his thumb into your mouth, “i said fucking open.” the second your lips start to part, he pushes his dick into your mouth, thrusting relentlessly making you gag around him. tears start to well in your eyes and when you try to pull your head away he latches his hand in your hair to stop you from moving. finally releasing you when you feel his cock twitch, followed by a hot flow of cum invading your throat.

he grabs onto your jaw again, giving you three light slaps to you cheek and spits in your mouth. “fucking swallow it,” hesitantly you do, opening your mouth back up and sticking out your tounge to show him.

he smirks, content with the sight in front of him. your hair disheveled, hot tears covering your cheeks and that look in your eyes, which you always had when you were around him. his sweet angel. he loved ruining you.

“rafey.. can i cum now, please? i’ve been a good girl.” you beg. the nickname making him flustered, which fortunately for him you don’t notice in the dark room.

“d’you think you deserve it?” he asks teasing to which you nod eagerly.

“please.” all your self respect and pride out the window now because you were so cockdrunk on ur psycho ex boyfriend you couldn’t think properly.

he shuffles back, spreading your legs apart again and moves his hand towards where you need him most. he begins toying with ur swollen clit before thrusting back into you. this time slower but just as deep.

you don’t hold back your moans, he makes you feel so good. but your cockdrunk haze interrupted when he started to speak again. “tell me you love me.” he groans, his eyes locking on yours. his thrusts hitting deeper, picking up the pace.

you were immediately taken aback. ofcourse you loved him, it’s rafe. but he’s crazy, god, he broke into your house and threatened you with a gun. he noticed your hesitation and starting rubbing your clit, almost sending you over the edge.

“y-yes, fuck, rafe i love you! hmmpf” you scream, your pussy clenching around him once again, his hand tightly gripping your throat. his thrusts brutal, pounding into you. you tug at the ropes bouncing your wrists when you feel pure bliss, your mind hazed and your pussy aching. his thrusts not stopping to ride out your high. you let out a loud, shaky moan/scream. the neighbours probably thought you were getting murdered. your orgasm leaves you limp, only ur legs shaking when he pulls out, yanking his boxers and pants back up.

what you’ve just done dawns over you. you’re so ashamed. you actually begged him to keep going. your tears reappear, trying to be as quiet as possible so rafe doesn’t notice and yell at you again. you wanted to kick him out, call the police and never see him again. the other part of you wanted him to hold you in his arms while you cry, and beg him never to leave your side. but right now, rafe decides for you.

he leans over to give you a sweet peck on the lips and reaches for your bound wrists. “are you gonna be good?” he whispers, eyes scanning your face for any lies. “i’ll be good, rafe. promise.” and you meant it, even tho you were choking back sobs of humiliation, you still meant it.

he untied the rope, your wrists aching and bruises already appearing. he leaves pecks all over the markings, which is his way of saying he’s sorry for hurting you. “i love you so much, y/n” he confesses, straightening back up to face you again. without even thinking, you lean forward, taking his jaw in your hands and you kiss him.

the kiss is beautiful, it wasn’t rushed or heated. it was slow and meaningful. when you finally pull away, you avoid his gaze. “i love you, rafey,” his eyes widen, he didn’t think you’d actually say it back. he knew you said it before, not because you meant it but because he basically forced you. but you did mean it. you never had stopped loving him, you were just tired of his lack of sanity.

he stands up and walks out of your room, leaving you on the bed alone without saying a word. a minute goes by, you felt so dirty and disgusting now. but before any worse thoughts could swarm your head, you hear footsteps heading towards your room. rafe is back, and hes holding a towel. oh, how you missed him.

he taps your thigh, signalling you to spread your legs and cleans up the mess you’d both made. discarding the towel, he crawls onto your bed and slides under the covers with you. “i’m really sorry, baby. i wasn’t trying to scare you. i just- i didn’t know what else to do.” his excuse was sloppy (and insane) but you still forgave him. you knew he was messed up, but so were you. in his head, he was just trying to show you how much he loved you, even tho to any normal person it’s a really creepy way to get someone back, you understood enough to let him hold you.

his arms wrapped around your waist, ur head snuggled in the warmth of his neck. “i know, rafe.. i’ll always love you.” you whispered before drifting to a heavy sleep in the comfort of his arms.

#cnc smut #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe smut #obx smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #obx x reader #rafe fanfiction #yandere!rafe cameron #yandere!rafe #stalker bf #stalker yandere #doll!reader x rafe #rafe x you

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arcanewhoosh · 1 month ago

Note

hiii how are you? I hope ur doing well!

I dont know if your requests are open or not so if they aren’t feel free to just ignore this :)

i was wondering if you could write a jinx X female reader (if not female gn is totally alright whatever you’re comfortable with) a soulmate au with jinx where it’s the reader who goes to the alternative universe instead of ekko, but instead of just going to one universe, the reader ends up going to multiple ones. she/they find out that jinx is her/their partner in every universe, in every timeline, in every possibility, making them soulmates.

I actually made a post about this idea, asking if anyone could write it, but I also wanted to ask you as well because I just adore your writing so so sooo much. I could honestly read your work for hours without getting bored or tired.

I Think We're Kind of Made for Each Other

This work will be posted (with an additional scene) on AO3 here. Please note that the work posted there will be tagged as Explicit

24.3k words

Proofread? Y/N

Relevant Tags: JinxXReader, Female Reader, Soulmates AU, Multiple timelines, Violence, Major character death, Suicide, Self-Harm, Alcohol consumption, Original side character, Canon compliant, LoL characters

When the anomaly at the Hex Gate transports you and your friends across realities, you're forced to confront the different lives you live in each one. But will you be able to accept a hard truth when you face the only constant thing in every timeline?

A/N: I just wanted to say, that this has to be my magnum opus. I don't think I can write another oneshot this long. To be fair, the idea had been floating in my head for a while, so when the request came, I kinda went crazy. And to think I thought I could write this in a day lol.

Nevertheless, I had a lot of fun writing. I highly encourage you to read some of my other stuff, purely because there are a few references in this story.

Please enjoy. And if you like it, feel free to share with your friends.

One

The feeling of wetness on the side of your face wakes you up—your entire left side, actually—as a dull ache starts to throb in your head. Barely registering the rain pelting down on you, you open your eyes and try to catch your bearings.

There's a loud ringing in your ears, but you can make out muffled shouting and gunfire, the sizzling in the air followed by a boom. It triggers the fight or flight response in you, but everything is hurting and you can't remember how you even ended up here. You should be doing something right now, but for the life of you, you can't figure out what.

Your hand wipes at your ear as you open your eyes to inspect it, an unsurprising streak of red on your fingers is starting to smear as the rain continues to pour. Your vision swims for a few seconds, and you figure a concussion is going to be added along with the possible ruptured eardrum in your list of injuries.

Thankfully, your gaze focuses on the sight ahead of you. The familiar bridge dividing Piltover and Zaun, cracked and blown off at sections. There are armed people hiding behind a barricade on your side of the bridge, shooting at enforcers at the other end.

You plant your hands on the concrete and try to push yourself up, getting to about knee level before a sharp pain in your foot knocks the wind out of you and fall back down. It only occurs to you now to look down and inspect the rest of you. Banged up, caked in dirt and blood—Whose blood was that?—and your clothes torn at odd places. Your foot is still there, and it's not dangling off at an awkward angle, at least. You grit your teeth and try to move the injured limb. The pain wracks through your body, but your foot moves nonetheless. Sprained, not broken; good.

An explosion next to you pulls you back into reality and starts up your sense of urgency as you crawl your way over to cover. Hiding behind a fallen pillar, you take a second to breathe and get your bearings. A number of people run past you, all carrying guns and explosives from what you can make out—Why are we in a gun fight with the Pilties?—all ignoring you as they erect more barricades and set their weapons up. It might be the adrenaline, but you can't for the life of you remember how you ended up in this situation. What the hell were you doing here?

You close your eyes and try to block out the pain from your head and ankle, willing yourself to recall the events prior this firefight.

This was all planned. Carefully planned over the course of years.

The painstaking effort it took to build weapon factories in the fissures to stay out of Piltover's radar.

the underground hand-to-hand combat classes.

"You know, you say we should feel like we're all one people—"

Expanding Zaun southwards to facilitate growth for the future.

"Is that a wild rune?"

"I have no idea what that is."

Noxus antagonizing you for trying to build a better city for your people.

"No, don't touch it!"

"Ekko—"

Your thoughts are interrupted when a pair of hands grab you by your shoulders. Your eyes snap open at the figure in front of you, her pink eyes all too familiar. She looks worried—about you, no less—and affection blooms in your chest the same time a feeling of repulsion comes over you. Jinx, you try to say, but you're still reeling from your injuries and your attempt to recall what had just happened, that you're not able to utter a word. She's speaking, but you can barely make out what she's saying because of the ringing in your ears. You try to read her lips, but your mind is too hazy to make sense of her words.

She realizes that you're not understanding her at all, and she spots the blood still coming out of your ear. As she moves to gingerly wipe off some of it with a gloved hand, you instinctively—instinctively??—lean into her touch. She pulls out a small vial with a needle at the end of it. The pink glow of its contents immediately tells you that it's shimmer, as Jinx takes off the cover with her mouth and spits it out to the side.

"No." You say. At least you think you do, you can't really hear yourself. You hand grabs her wrist holding the needle, but she's faster and leans her hand away just out of reach from you. She grabs your own with her free hand, and gives you an apologetic look. You're not sure why, but you can almost tell that she's trying to say this'll help, I promise.

The smile alone is enough to make you relent, and a part of you is bewildered at the fact. Still, you put your hand down and let her stab the needle into your thigh, its contents seeping through.

You lurch forward at the sensation, but she catches you and holds you as you tense up from the high that shimmer delivers with it. You grab onto her as you wait for the effects to subside.

"It's okay, you're okay, I've got you." She whispers into your hair. You relax, slowly but surely. Besides the fogginess you still feel, you're a million gold coins. You gently push yourself away, taking a look around, your sense suddenly heightened. A short side effect of shimmer, if you remember right.

"Jinx." You finally manage. "Are you okay?"

She scoffs, but you know that it's not out of hostility. "Don't you think I should be asking you that?"

She has a point. A part of you wants to contradict her for the fun of it, but this isn't the place, or time. You peek over the side of the pillar, the barricades are holding strong, even gaining ground over Piltover. The momentary safety provided by cover is enough for you pull Jinx and yourself on your feet.

Her face if covered in dirt and grease. She was supposed to be working on Fishbones, away from the front lines. "You're supposed to be on higher ground."

"I'm not gonna sit on my ass while you're all here risking your lives. Besides—" She pushes a rifle onto you. "Fishbones is ready. Once the Noxian's ship is even an inch within range, they're done for."

You shake your head. "You're better if you're—"

"No." She starts. She has a determined look in her eye, the same one she sports when she wants you to drop an argument. And you drop it, every single time.

"I'm just as good as a shot as you. And we're winning." She gestures toward the bridge, where the line of enforcers and Noxians troops are slowly but surely backing away. "We'll need as many boots here as we can. You said it yourself, the hardest part is gonna be holding the line once they call for negotiations."

Your grip tightens on the rifle. You were so close to freeing Zaun. Wait what?

Freeing Zaun? No, you needed to save your tree, with the firelights, and all the refugees. You needed to find Ekko, and Heimerdinger, and Jayce. Jinx… Jinx was the enemy. She killed your friends before, blown up your safehouses, let Silco flood the streets with shimmer—

"The Noxians ships are here!"

You both turn to the east side of the bridge, and spot the fleet approaching. Their pace glacial because of the narrow path on the water. They start deploying smaller boats filled with their soldiers, headed for the small docks on your side of the bridge. You turn back to Jinx, her eyes are still trained on you. She takes a breath, and opens her mouth to say something—

"Cap! We're armed and ready!" A blob of pink hair catches your attention; it's Vi, waving over to you from a distance away. "Give the signal!" You look up to the rooftops above her, a group of people rolling three launchers forward, all trained on the large vessels in the water. The blue glow coming from the HexTech gemstone running through lines on the launchers they were all hauling. One for each ship.

"This is it." You say as you grab Jinx's arm. "Go take cover."

"And leave you here? Fat chance."

"Jinx."

"I'm staying." This stubborn little—You sigh, now was not the time for a petty argument. You were about to give the go signal for a possible war-ending—or war escalating—attack. You settle for pulling Jinx with you as you zigzag towards where Vi is, bullets flying everywhere.

"We're armed and ready." She says as she crouches next to you. You know you can't delay the command, but a pit settles in your stomach as the weight of your decisions starts to sink in. The number of lives that'll be lost from this.

But you don't have the luxury in time, not in war. All you have is the culmination of your split second decisions and the consequences that follow.

"Tell them to fire." You state it with such calmness that it surprises the three of you. Vi nods, nonetheless, and gives the signal to the fighters on the rooftop.

In the few seconds that the high pitched screech of the launchers resonate through the air, the battlefields becomes silent. All eyes trained on the rooftops of Zaun, then the Noxian ships.

The first rocket hits a ship. A loud bang is heard as it makes contact, followed by a muffled explosion as smoke starts to billow out of the ship. The vessel groans and slows to a stop, as a line of soldiers dressed in red start abandoning ship as fires start erupting out of doors and windows. The other two ships follow the same fate. A loud bang, an explosion, the smoke, and people desperately trying to get away.

You stare at the horrific sight in front of you. There are no sounds from the guns firing from each side, no bangs from projectiles being launched from mini Hex gates. Everyone has stopped whatever they were doing and were now watching people on ships, trying to escape the inferno quickly building up.

Your head throbs, and you stumble as you try to walk towards the bridge. Jinx catches you as you fall to your knees, your head suddenly as heavy as lead, the ringing in your ears returning, louder this time. Jinx is trying to tell you something, but your vision begins to blur, and you feel like you need to just… shut your eyes for a few moments.

-----

Two

"Hey, Ms. Port Master extraordinaire? Hello?"

The snap of fingers brings you out of your stupor. You blink a few times before clearing your throat.

"Sorry." You try to flash a smile to the woman in front of you. Her eyes scrutinize you for a brief moment, seemingly trying to figure out what was going on in your mind, before her infuriatingly attractive smirk adorns her face.

"Didn't peg you for a lightweight."

You snort as you take a sip from your glass. "I'm not a lightweight."

"The zoning out is kind of a dead giveaway."

"I wasn't zoning out. I was lost in your eyes."

"You weren't even looking at me."

"I had to look away cause I was getting lost in your eyes?"

She lightly punches your arm—damn she's strong—before leaning against the counter of the busy bar. You sit close to each other, citing the noisy atmosphere and the hindrance that would cause during your conversation, but you both know better. You wanted to sit close because she was, pardon your French, too fucking attractive. Hers, you weren't sure yet, but you'd be able to find out eventually.

"I'm guessing you don't get lost in all of your customers' eyes, too?"

"Just yours." You’re not a lightweight, that much you’re certain. Tipsy, however, you very much are. If the brazen flirting wasn’t making it obvious enough.

"And you weren't out last night with some poor girl who also had engine troubles?" You put a hand over your chest.

"You're breaking my heart here, blue." The feigned hurt in your voice does little to deter the eye roll that Powder gives you. You let out a laugh as you put your hands up as a mock sign of peace. "Hey, I swear I was trying my best to be professional earlier, but I'm off the clock now, so I can flirt as much as I want."

"Oh, we're flirting?" You furrow your brows at her.

"Was that not clear?"

"Nah, not really."

"Do you platonically get lost in people's eyes?"

"Maybe. How do I know you don't take girls here every night? I could ask the bartender."

"Go ahead, he's an unbiased party. Besides," You shrug. "Even if I did, I'm a regular here so he wouldn't snitch on me."

"Don't put words in my mouth you muppet." the burly man working behind the bar walks towards the two of you, refilling your drinks. He winks at Powder. "Don't worry love, I'd sell this one for a sack of potatoes—"

"Hey!"

"But." He says, a thick eyebrow raised at you. "Lil' missy here isn't a revolving door of lovers. In fact, I don't reckon' she's ever brought someone here. Or landed a date, actually—" Powder snorts into her drink, and you take it as a sign that it's time to usher the barkeep away.

"Okay, thank you Ed, for the refills. I think there's some people asking for you over there." Ed laughs as he lumbers over to the other side of the bar. You keep your eyes on him until you're sure that he's occupied, before turning back to Powder. "I do in fact, get dates. For the record."

"Oh, of course, I totally believe you."

"I mean it."

"Completely believe you."

"Okay, now you're just messing me." Your ego is a bit bruised at Ed's interruption, the shit eating grin on Powder's face isn't helping either. But she's smiling, and for some ungodly reason, you consider it as a win. You shake your head and take a longer sip from your drink, why the hell were you so sappy all of a sudden?

"Okay, okay. Sorry, toots." She nudges you with her shoulder. "No more teasing."

You raise an eyebrow at her. "No more bruising my ego?" She shakes her head and crosses over her heart.

"Nope. Serious questions only, from this point forward."

"Oh? Like what?" You turn to her and prop your chin on your hand.

"Like…" She bites her lip and looks at a random spot on the wall of drinks across from you, momentarily in thought. At this point, you're not even trying to hide your staring. She doesn't call you out on it when she looks back at you, but a small smirk plays at her face. “You’re drunk.”

“Just as drunk as you are.”

“I’m not drunk yet.”

“You’re literally slurring your words right now.”

“…I’m tipsy.”

You do your best to hold back a chuckle. “Hi tipsy—“

“Gods, please don’t.” She groans and hides her face in her hands. “I was just starting to find you attractive.”

“I thought we were done bruising my ego?”

“The dad jokes make you free real estate.”

“Okay, alright.” You laugh. Gently prying her hands away from her face. “Just ask me your question.“

She relents, but doesn’t let go of your hand as she sets her hand down the counter. “Hmm…”

“Did you grow up here?”

“Here? No, I only came here about five years ago. Looking for my great perhaps and all.” A momentary ring in your ear causes your breath to hitch, but Powder doesn’t seem to notice.

“Where are you from?” She continues, her eyes slightly glazed but reflecting her curiosity.

“I’m from—“

The Free Nation of Zaun

The Undercity

Why the hell would I tell you?

“Hey.” Jinx gives your hand a gentle squeeze. You do your damn best not to yank your hand away. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me.”

Bilgewater, you’re from Bilgewater.

“No, it’s okay.” You squeeze her hand back before she has the chance to pull away. "Could you give me a second?"

You wait for her to nod before you push yourself off the stool and make your way to the bathroom. You quickly lock the door and rest your head against it. The ringing in your ears returns, and your breathing becomes ragged. "Where the hell am I?" You look over to the bathroom mirror, and you're surprised to see the figure standing in front of you.

Your hair is different; your face—you look healthier? Not someone who grew up in the Undercity. You walk over to the sink, planting both hands on either side, scrutinizing your features further. It's you alright, somehow. Only it's also not.

Born in Bilgewater, left for adventure, ended up here working at the port.

"No." You shut your eyes as you shake your head. "I was born in the Undercity, I'm a firelight, we came across a wild rune and… now I'm here. I need to find Ekko, and Jayce, and Heimerdinger." You repeat the words a few more times, just to make sure you don't forget. The sound of water flowing out of the faucet as you turn a knob offers little comfort, but the cold sensation of the water when you splash your face helps.

You're about to turn and exit the bathroom when you spot something on your arm. A small thing, peeking out of your sleeve. You gasp as you pull your sleeve back, the web-like patterns of the wild rune threading a line over your forearm.

You needed to find out what was happening, and why you've already encountered Jinx twice, every time you did whatever you were doing. Were you hallucinating? Did you just hit your head and was currently having a really trippy dream? You decide to think this over once you shake off Jinx, Powder, whoever she is. Easier said than done, since you kept acting like some lovesick fool.

When you return to the bar, Jinx is still there. Her back is turned to you, but her shoulders are slumped in a way that you can immediately tell that she's not in a good mood.

"Oi." Ed flicks your ear, ignoring your protest. "What the hell are you doing, making that sweet lass upset?"

I wouldn't use sweet to describe her.

"Sorry, I—uh, I'll fix it."

"Damn right you will. You come across someone like that once every lifetime." He pushes you toward the bar, before going back to clear a table.

"Sorry about that." Her head whips up in surprise, clearly not expecting you to be back. "Lost myself for a bit there."

"I…I thought you snuck out, honestly. It's no big deal, happens sometimes." She shrugs, her shoulders tense. She's trying to be nonchalant about you suddenly excusing yourself, but she was still slurring her words, and her gestures were becoming uncoordinated, so it wasn't really working. She looked more upset the more she tried to play it off.

You reach over the bar and grab a pitcher of water and a glass, filling it up and handing it over to her. "I'm really sorry about that."

She glares at the glass before reluctantly downing its contents "S'fine." A few beats of silence pass, and you unexpectedly feel guilt start to bubble up in your chest. No. No. No.

“I grew up in Bilgewater.”

"Huh?"

"You asked earlier, where I was from? Bilgewater. Terrible place, really."

She folds her arms on the counter and rests her head on them, closing her eyes. “Why’d you leave?”

“You get sick of the smelly pirates? Though, I do have to give them credit, their wild stories of adventure and conquest is what made me leave in the first place.”

"You didn't just join some random ship?"

You chuckle. "And get myself killed for some dumb mistake? No thanks." You refill her glass with water, before picking up your own and swirling the brown liquid around. You recall working in a bar, up in the higher levels of Bilgewater, where adventurers spent the coin that they made from their exploits, before begrudgingly having to go back down and gather a crew to earn more. A vicious that kept repeating itself. Sometimes, if they were lucky, the whole crew would survive, but those instances were few and far in between.

Memories. You realize. These are all your memories, or, whoever you are here, at least.

A properly functioning Hex Gate was capable of transporting ships across continents in a split second. Does this mean a magically screwed up one could transport you to a different life entirely? Was it because of the remnants of the anomaly on your arm?

You shake your head, this was stuff that Ekko was good at, not you. You needed to find him, fast.

But first, take care of this one.

As if on cue, you hear a light snore come from next to you. Jinx is knocked out, clearly not bothered by how she's awkwardly hunched over the counter. You sigh, you have no idea how to get back home, but you decide to handle that issue tomorrow. Right now, you had a drunk Jinx to take care of.

Thankfully, you remember where you live, because having to haul around a drunk Jinx was difficult enough. Small victories though, as you realize that this is better than being stuck in the middle of a battle field. You settle yourself on your bay window, looking over to Jinx's sleeping form on your bed. Tomorrow, you'd start figuring out a way to get home. For now, you'll try to get your first wink of sleep in Gods know how long.

-----

Twenty-eight

In the indiscernible amount of time that has passed—for you, at least—you've come to realize the following things:

You are not hallucinating, nor did you hit your head, you are, in fact, jumping through universes and different versions of yourself.

The first hurdle you had to get through was getting your bearings when you'd get thrown into another universe. It took a few tries, but eventually, you were able to come to your senses immediately after jumping to the next plane of existence you were in. You always repeated the mantra you made back in the second jump you did, the last thing you needed was to forget where you came from. The thought of aimlessly wandering through universes, feeling like you've lost your mind, you can't even imagine how terrible that would be. You needed to find the others as soon as you could.

The length of stay always varied and timelines can repeat, but there are always miniscule variations.

This was still a working theory. You've only repeated a timeline once, but you had enough wits about you to realize that some objects were a different color to their preceding counterpart, or that instead of Ekko explaining something to you, it was Scar. With how long you'd stay, there were a few instances when you'd only stay for a few minutes, but the rest spanned to about a week at the longest.

Somehow, some way, you and Jinx are connected in some way, shape, or form. In every. Single. One.

The last one was especially jarring, considering you had never even met Jinx officially back in your universe. Sure, you’ve had run-ins with her because the Firelights would frequently be trying to intercept shimmer routes, but you don't think barely surviving one of her chompers counted as an introduction. On top of that, she was your enemy back home, but in every single jump you've had so far, the two of you had a somewhat established relationship. This was good, in a way, because at least you didn't have to be on your guard constantly while you tried to figure out a way to get home.

"I can hear you thinking from over here."

Speak of the devil.

You ignore the comment from your friend. Emphasis on friend. In this universe it seemed, the both of you were Academy students in Piltover, mercifully platonic. You decided to do your best to study wild runes and HexTech when you could, but it proved to be difficult when you were distracted by that Other You's feelings for Jinx. At least this place gave you access to a literal sea of books and a clear enough mind.

"Hey, don't ignore me." Jinx opts to lightly tug at the top half of the book you're reading, and you can see her blue eyes peek through the space. That's right, no shimmer exposure in this universe.

"I'm studying." You deadpan, hoping she'll leave you alone. You get a mock imitation of your words, instead.

"No you're not, none of our classes are even looking into dusty old books about runes." She has a point. Truth be told, you're supposed to be studying about ethical practices in the field of body modification for utility uses. Which was close to nothing, really. But you can't really tell Jinx why you're reading about runes, now, can you?

"Have you ever heard of this thing called supplementary reading?" You shake the book off of her fingers, and go back to your futile attempt to learn about magic. Not that this book was any use, there wasn't even a list of runes and their definitions on here. The girl in front of you leans back on her chair and lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Ugh, you're boring. Let's go do something fun!" Her foot kicks at your shoe from under the table, and you have to lift both feet up to avoid her kicks.

"Hey! Not everyone can sleep through every class and still get high marks, Jinx." You scoot your chair out from under the table to put distance between the two of you. "Some of us have to actually study."

"What's studying without any field experience?"

"Pipe down. The librarian is gonna kick us both out, again."

She sticks her tongue out at you, but lowers her voice. "Come on, I'm dying of boredom here!" She splays out her upper half on the table, arms toppling over some of the papers and books you—Very neatly!—stacked for reference.

Your mouth forms a thin line, her rowdy, and playful personality had become apparent to you once you went through a few more universes. She'd get pissed if you ignored her for too long, but the structured environment of the Academy hindered a her from having any outbursts. So you opt to continue reading your books instead of taking the bait, quashing any urge from the You of this universe to make a side comment about her behavior.

She continues with her ranting about you not having any fun or having a stick up your ass. Her jabs get progressively more offensive, but that's how her and the Other You here interact. It's not fun for you yourself, because you didn't have the patience to make a jab at her without losing your cool.

You rub an eyebrow with one your hands, before gripping the book, willing yourself to focus on the next few pages in case they provide any useful information. You try to tune out the other girl, who has thankfully gone quiet.

You move book to book, thankful that this version of you could read and absorb information so fast. Sadly, you couldn't find anything about wild runes. Looks like Piltover was strict about distancing itself from magic as much as they could.

You don't look up from your book until you hear a grumbling from in front of you.

"What was that?" You close your book and pile it onto the Useless pile—which was all of them, really—and raise an eyebrow at Jinx, whose arms are crossed and is looking off to the side.

"doyouwannageticecream" You blink.

"Jinx, I'm not gonna understand a word you say if you keep grumbling like that."

She rolls her eyes. "I said, do you wanna get ice cream? or something."

Huh, how random.

"I made you upset earlier, and ice cream makes people feel better so..."

"I wasn't upset" You were.

"Yeah you were."

"I was annoyed."

"I know your annoyed face from your upset face."

"There's a difference?"

"So you were!" She slams her hand on the table, and is met by an irate librarian shushing her. You're once again taken aback by how different each Jinx behaves from the others. Where you were sure your universe's Jinx would have shot that poor woman, this one sheepishly rubs the back of her neck and throws a peace sign at her. If you weren't exposed to your universe's Jinx, you would have found her behavior cute. But you were exposed, so it absolutely isn't, and you're not going to play along with her to make her feel better.

"Thank for the offer jinx, but I'm not really in the mood to get ice cream." Good. "...and I'm not mad at you, or anything." You swear the last part was added in by Other You. Nonetheless, this seems to work as Jinx relaxes, resigning to making paper airplanes with the notes you had made while you went back to reading.

"Wanna break into Giopara's lab?" She starts.

"No."

"I think you'd want to—"

"No."

"If you say so." the singsong tone in her voice and the nonchalant shrug sets off alarm bells in your head. She's baiting you again.

Your eyes narrow at her. "You're being weird."

"No I'm not. I just thought—seeing as you're all interested in runes all of a sudden—you'd want to look at Giopara's vast book collection on that very subject."

"How the hell would you even know that?"

"Cause," She shrugs again. "He keeps saying I'm not living up to my potential and tries to make me read more Hex Tech origin stuff."

Your mouth hangs open, but you manage to close it before Jinx calls you a blubbering fish. "Wait a second. You're saying you've been reading about runes and Hex Tech?"

"Yup."

"So you know that the books here in the library are useless?"

"Mhm."

"And you've been letting me waste my time reading through them like an idiot?"

She sits back in her chair and crosses her arms. "They're not useless. They're just... Not useful."

"You're such a dick sometimes." Your remark is loud enough that the librarian to shush you as well. You whisper a sorry before turning back to Jinx.

"And you always have a stick up your ass." She whispers loudly.

"Yeah cause someone has to keep you from getting yourself killed, or worse, expelled!"

She snorts. "Really toots? Getting expelled is worse than getting killed?"

"The chances of getting expelled are higher with you, unfortunately."

She leans forward conspiratorially, a grin on her face. You don't notice yourself mirror her. "So come with me to break into his office, so I don't get expelled. Don't you want to read all those rune books? He doesn't even keep track of what gets taken out of there."

"Then why don't you just borrow them during lab hours?"

"What fun is that?"

"Jinx!"

"We'll be quick, five minutes, tops. And you'll have your dumb rune books." You grit your teeth. On one hand, You could just ask her to teach you what she knows. But you've known her—Other You!—your whole life, so you're a hundred percent sure that you'd have to pry that information out of her cold, dead, hands. On the other, Jayce's head was so far up in his own ass that Jinx was probably correct in saying he wouldn't notice any missing books.

I also don't know when I'll be yanked into another universe. There was also that.

"How sure are you that you can get us in and out that fast?"

"A million percent. Dude forgets to lock the door sometimes." She's already standing up and shoving all of your notes into your book bag, your eye twitches just the tiniest bit, before your head snaps up to look at her.

"How do you know that?" You ask as you start carrying the books to the book trolley.

"You're asking too many questions here. Less talking, more walking. Go, go, go." She ushers you out into the hallway, and the both of you start walking towards the east wing of the academy. The sun had already set, so there were much less students loitering. Still, the both of you err on the side of caution and stick to the lesser used hallways where the custodians had already turned off the lights.

You eventually find your way to the front of Jayce's lab, and Jinx wastes no time kneeling on front of the door and pulling out what looked like tools and shoving them into the door knob. This is definitely not her first breaking and entering.

"Where the hell did you get lockpicks?!" You do your best to keep your voice down, the allure of learning about runes slowly dissipating, panic replacing it.

"What did I say about less talking?" She whips around and raises her eyebrows at you, right as she turns the doorknob and opens the previously locked door.

"We're so fucked."

"You know, if we weren't stretched for time, I'd be celebrating you breaking your curse word quota for the day." She yanks her tools out of the door knob, and pushes you into the lab.

The room is nearly pitch black. Thankfully, the unlit hallways were enough for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. The low light from the moon streaming through the windows the only thing helping with your vision. Somehow, Jinx is able to navigate just fine.

"Okay, how often do you actually break in here?"

"How often is underground robot fight club again?" Robot fight club. The only thing Jinx is willing to wake up early for. Wait a second—

"Jinx!" You don't bother lowering your voice. Hoping that the closed room would be enough to muffle any sounds from coming into the hallway.

"What?"

"That's twice a week!"

"Where did you think we were getting our parts?"

"You said you knew a guy!"

"Clearly." She gestures around the room, where there were plenty of scattered machinery parts. Your face pales slightly; this Jinx was going to get You expelled, surely.

"You made me an accessory!"

"And now you're committing the crime. Congratulations, you've been promoted." She opens another door and theatrically gestures at the room. "Your little rune books await, oh great stuck-up one."

You roll your eyes at her and enter the room without any fanfare. Immediately you see that the all four walls of the room are lined with bookshelves as high as the ceiling. In the middle, a large wooden table with charts and books scattered across. Jinx stops next to you and nudges you with her shoulders. "Told 'ya. Worth the risk, right?"

"That's still up in the air."

She scoffs. "You totally think it is."

You don't want to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, but you don't even notice that you're grinning back at her until she puts an arm around your shoulders and waves her hand flippantly at the shelves. Other You's stomach does a backflip.

No. Absolutely not.

"So what are we looking for?"

You once again quash whatever physical reaction you're having. Now was definitely not the time. You walk out of her arm's reach and resort to looking around the spines of the books, already trying to spot their titles. "Wild runes."

There's a beat of silence before you hear her walking around the carpeted floor. "Wild runes huh? Yeah, I think I've seen a few of those around. Don't think I read them, though."

"That's fine." You start rifling around the shelves. Reading through anything that looked promising.

Jinx is the first to break the silence. She usually is. "So what are these books for, again?"

"I told you, supplementary reading. Also there isn't much to read on out ethics class so might as well fill my time with something fun."

Jinx doesn't reply, and you're happy to keep on reading through your books until you get a nagging feeling that you've just done something wrong.

You turn around to look at Jinx, who was plopped down on the floor and half-heartedly pulling books out, before seemingly placing them somewhere else at random. You mentally kick yourself when you notice that her shoulders are slumped. Opting to put the book search on hold, you walk over to her, hesitating for a moment before sitting down next to her.

"You know you can tell me stuff, right?" Her voice is quiet, and it's unsettling that you have the sudden urge to comfort her.

Yes, yes of course. This version of you felt completely at ease with Jinx. But you can't afford to be distracted by affection that wasn't even yours to begin with. If only you could explain that you've been universe-hopping and that in every single one of them you were in love or falling in love with her, and that you were trying to at least stall in this one so you could get as much information as you could before you got dragged into a different timeline again.

You can't, not really. But you know better than to try to lie to her.

"I think there might be another side to Hex Tech that we haven't discovered yet."

She stops rearranging the books and turns to you slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Like... Equal and opposite reactions."

"You think Hex Tech might have negative effects?" You feel your guilt lift at the curious glint in her eyes as you nod.

"Something like that. It's just a theory, though. I don't have anything to back it up."

"Well," She stands up and heads over to a shelf at the far wall. Pulling out an old looking tome. "I think this is just the book you're looking for." She blows off dust from the cover, coughing lightly from the cloud that forms. You quickly stand up and walk toward her, looking over the tome.

My ticket home—

"I don't care if they think I'm hogging too many testing hours, my methods actually work."

The door in the other room slams shut, you and Jinx immediately crouch down and move to turn the light off. Your eyes barely have time to adjust before Jinx pulls you over to the window.

"Are you crazy? We're on the second floor!" You whisper as she tries to pry it open.

"Less talking, more helping." As if on cue, you hear ruffling near the door. Less talking, more helping.

You help Jinx open the window, one hand still clutching the tome. You pray to every god out there that Jayce actually won't realize he's missing a book. The both of you swing your legs over the edge, and you grab onto the wall, suddenly feeling very nauseous. Jinx on the other hand, is grinning like a maniac.

"Aim for the bushes."

"Aim for the wha—"

You're unable to finish your sentence as Jinx pushes you out the window. You were wrong, the chances of getting killed might actually be higher than getting expelled.

While this was the first time Other You was getting pushed out of a window, this was fortunately—and sadly—not your first. Your instincts kick in and you're able to land on your feet, using the momentum to tuck and roll safely on the ground. All with the tome still clutched on one hand.

You're about to give Jinx a piece of your mind when she mouths catch me and you panic and free up your hands, just in time for her to land right into your arms. Sadly, however, strength doesn't carry over between universes as well as technique. Your knees buckle and you fall backwards. You barely have time to recover before Jinx is tucking the tome under her arm and pulling you up to your feet, already running away from the building.

You follow suit, quickly discovering that cardio was also not transferrable between timelines. Still, you keep running until your legs are burning and you see the dorms come into view, only stopping once you're both safely hidden at its side entrance.

You somehow beat Jinx to the door, your hands on your knees as your chest heaves. She comes to a stop right next to you. Planting a hand on your shoulder and using you for support.

"That was—"

"Fucking stupid."

She slaps your shoulder and laughs, commenting about how she likes this new, cussing, version of you. You take a second to compose yourself, huffing before standing to your full height, ready to give her a piece of your mind. Instead you stop short, your faces only a few inches apart. Thankfully, she seems just as surprised at the proximity, enough that she drops the infuriating grin on her face.

Her eyes flit to your lips, then to your eyes. A pointed look in hers. A challenge more than an invitation, really.

Your mind goes haywire.

There are many, many—actually so many—reasons why you should not, at all, kiss Jinx. Different timeline or not, you, specifically you, cannot do it. It would be the greatest betrayal to your people, your friends, everyone you know and love, your moral code, your promise to take down Silco's empire and clean the Undercity, Ekko, Heimerdinger and Jayce; have you mentioned your friends?

A tug at the front of your shirt, her biting her lip to stop a smile that reaches her eyes anyway, and your resolve begins to slip.

You can feel her breath on your lips.

"Stop thinking."

You will swear on your grave that it's the Other You that grabs her and closes the gap.

-----

Ninety-five

Timelines can have profound disparities from each other, but they could also have nearly miniscule, insignificant ones as well. This means that you could jump from one timeline where you were wearing a blue shirt, then a red one in the next, with everything else staying the same. Be a firelight in one, and next thing you know, you're an enforcer.

Sometimes, the big and small changes can mix things up. While they haven't been a huge inconvenience to you in the past—present, future?—they sure as hell were now.

Exhibit A: You're an enforcer.

Exhibit B: You're thrown into the mix on the day of the bridge explosion.

Exhibit C: Instead using a chomper to blow herself up, Jinx rigs the underside of the middle of the bridge with explosives.

At this point, ninety-five jumps in, you should really learn to be more vigilant when it comes to tackling unpredictable situations. Not that you can fully put yourself at fault, of course. You just wanted to make sure Ekko and his friends survived.

…And arrest Jinx so she didn't blow herself up. Then nothing else!

So why the hell am I lugging an unconscious Jinx into my apartment? You wonder as you set Jinx down on your bed. The panic and anxiety of the Other You understandably building up, seeing as she and Jinx haven't met yet. That and you're an enforcer harboring a wanted fugitive. And she killed Other You's friends, so the grief and anger are really making things confusing.

You roll Jinx onto her back, checking to see if she has any injuries. There's a deep cut on her side—courtesy of you while you were fighting—but nothing you couldn't stitch up yourself. Granted she doesn't wake up and shoot you, first.

Lumbering over to your bathroom where you kept your first aid kit, you flip the lights on. There's a semi-concerning pool of red on the front of your jacket, and your undershirt. You turn to the mirror, and spot what looks like a gash right under your breast. No big deal, it'll stop bleeding on its own. Must've been a sharp part of the bridge that nicked you as it collapsed, or maybe you cut yourself while fishing yourself and Jinx out of the harbor. Something I can fix later.

You grab a chair and settle on the side of your bed, taking out your suturing kit and disinfecting your hands. This shouldn't take too long, but that was never the problem. The problem was what would happen after Jinx wakes up.

You initially thought of just taking her to her hideout, but you ran the risk of running into Silco's people. While you could've just left at the docks—well, you don't really have a reason to not have left her at the docks, now do you?

You shake the thought out of your mind and get to work on closing the cut. It wasn't bleeding as much, but leaving it alone could get it infected, plus it would take forever to close.

Not that I care. You futilely tell yourself. As if saving her from dying, carrying her back to your home, and stitching up her wounds were normal activities between an enforcer and a fugitive—a fugitive of your creation!—on any given day. You weren't even originally planning on stopping her from dying. You know she comes back, pumped full of shimmer and allegedly a thousand times faster. Your only concern was getting Ekko to safety, but then one thing led to another, and you had your gun pointed at her as you were telling her she was under arrest. Everything should have worked out fine, if only the bridge didn't blow up.

Once her cut's been stitched up, and you change the bandage on an injury on her leg. You do a once over to check if she has any other life-threatening ailments. Once you deem that there are none, you decide change into a clean set of clothing. After slapping on a bandage over your cut—also bleeding a lot less—and putting on a sweater, your eye catches the mark the wild rune left on your forearm. You're reminded about another discovery you made: The mark was slowly fading.

You hypothesize that it had something to do with the number of times you were jumping through timelines. Did that make it a timer? Or was it a limited number of lives that was counting down to zero? And what does that mean when it runs out? Will you be stuck in that timeline forever? Or will it return you back home?

Learning about Hex Tech and runes was proving to be difficult jumping around to different timelines every few days. You'd have to pick up right where you left off every jump, and even then your access to resources was limited depending on the timeline. Not that you were making any progress, anyway. You were convinced that you needed to be a proper magic user before you could make sense of what you were learning.

You put your first aid kit away and head back into your room. It's not without difficulty, as you feel the adrenaline rush you had back at the bridge slowly ebb away; you're surprised it even lasted this long in the first place. But now you needed to rest a hand against your dresser for support, a feeling of lightheadedness starting to take over. Staying steady was actually becoming a bit difficult.

The hand you're using for support shifts to the side, as you struggle with your balance, and tips over a small container. The familiar rattling of pills catches your attention. You pick up the bottle and rattle it again before reading the label. A nagging feeling at the back of your mind is telling you that you've forgotten about something.

...Iron supplements. It read.

Uh oh.

"Fuck"

You suddenly feel like the best course of action is to close your eyes for a bit and sit on the floor to collect yourself, as you vaguely register the pill bottle clattering onto the ground.

Five seconds. That's all you need and you'll be back in tip top shape.

One.

Two.

Three.

A weight on your stomach, pushing out all the air you're trying to breathe in.

Four--

Click.

Your eyes open blearily, barely registering the barrel of a gun right in front of your eyes. Your gun, in fact. Panic and dread start to fill your senses, and for the first time since you hopped into this plane of existence, you agree with Other You's

feelings. If this was any of the preceding timelines, you would've been confident that Jinx wouldn't harm a hair on your head.

But not in this one.

You look past your gun and spot blue eyes staring at you. Some of the panic you feel dwindle when you see the curious look in her eyes—you can read her like a book at this point—and the slack of her grip on the gun. At least she isn't planning on shooting you immediately.

"Hello." You croak out, your voice hoarse from sleep. Oh no, were you a mouth breather in this timeline too?

Her hold on the gun straightens; your attention is immediately rapt and trained only on her. "Silco got you in his pocket, or something?"

You hesitantly swallow. Saying yes to buy yourself time was certainly one way to do it, but on the off chance that this was a test, that was a one way ticket to getting a bullet in your cranium.

"No."

The tip of the gun leaves your vision for a second, but you're spared no relief when you feel it jammed under your jaw. Wrong answer, then.

She comes into full view, sitting on your stomach—so that's why you couldn't breathe—boots on either side of your chest. "So what, you some kind of sicko? Saving poor 'ol me, patching me up? Or are you one of those delusional Pilties that think you can save some misunderstood girl from the Undercity?" Her head tilts to the side, a lilt in her voice as she says the last part.

"No." You struggle to get the next words out. "I swear." Your hand ball into fists as she jams the gun in deeper. Wait a second, my hands are free. I can take her do—no. No. I am not going to escalate the situation.

An oversight, or a challenge?

"You had a clear shot at me, you didn't shoot. I try to blow you up, you fish me out of the harbor and stitch up my wounds." Your eyes flit to her bandaged side She leans her face closer to yours. "Why?"

Well you see, I think we're kind of made for each other. You're tempted to say, but you doubt she's in any state to believe you. In any case, you'll actually come across as some sicko. Not that Other You would have shot her, either. You could feel the hesitation on her end when you had the gun trained on Jinx. If Marcus hadn't pulled his gun on Kiramman, she might have, but she thankfully had some sense of justice, and seeing the sheriff's true colors come out was enough to view everything with more scrutiny.

You have an inkling feeling that Other You would still end in the situation you're currently in. One way or another.

"I…I don't kno—"

"Liar!" The butt of your pistol connects with your temple, and you're nearly knocked out again. The room spins, and you're barely able to focus on Jinx again before her nails are digging into the skin on your cheeks, forcing you to face her. There's frustration written all over her face, but you know that she's just trying to make sense of the situation, if her shaking hand is any indication. Your fault, really, Other You is confused as hell, too.

She moves a foot back, and shifts so that her knee is carrying her weight—you're half thankful that it's not on your stomach anymore—as she leans forward. Her face closer now.

Your eyes focus back on hers. A mix of emotions swimming on those pools of blue; frustration, hostility, anger. But you also see panic, vulnerability, regret, and confusion. Her grip on you face loosens marginally. And then it hits you.

She didn't want to hurt you.

One thing constant in every timeline that you've been to, is the almost magnetic pull you felt towards her; the need to always have her in near proximity, and the sense of calm that would come over you if she was. And try as you might, you couldn't ignore the wave of affection that you would feel while you were with her.

Is it possible she feels this as well?

It's a risky thing to test, especially since you didn't know what would happen to you if Other You died. But it is kind of your own doing at this point.

You say nothing, hoping that she'll fill in the silence.

Her hand continues to shake, but you can tell that her anger is already wavering. You almost miss her asking you why again, she probably meant to keep it to herself.

"I don't want to hurt you either."

Risky. But you don't have a lot of options left.

She lets out a breath at your words, the gun retracts.

"Who are you?" Her voice is quiet, unsure.

Your soulmate, apparently. "Nobody." You answer semi-honestly. You were, technically, she hasn't had the chance to know you in this timeline yet.

She shakes her head and looks away. "No you're not." The softness of her tone catches you off guard. Her hand moving away from your cheek to clutch the collar of your sweater, doubly so. "You…you're familiar."

"Like we already know each other." Her eyes meet yours again, the surprise in them evident. She said those same words to you in a few past timelines. You always thought they were just little variations in those particular versions of her, but now…this just supports your hypothesis that she also cycles through the same sensations you do.

Your eye catches a faint streak of light manages to slip through your closed curtains, providing a miniscule amount of light into your dark room. "It's morning." You muse out loud, looking back at the still speechless girl on top of you. "Enforcers are going to be everywhere. You need to get out of here."

Her sense of urgency is seemingly stirred by your words, and she pulls you up along with her. Confusion still litters her features, you hope the smile you offer her is enough for comfort.

"Can you walk okay?" her mouth opens and closes a few times, still at a loss for words. You decide to push your luck, slowly reaching a hand over to touch her free arm. "Jinx."

Her brows furrow. The question of your knowledge of her name accusingly reflected in her eyes.

"I heard Kiramman say it, at the bridge." Thank goodness she actually did. Otherwise, this would've been very confusing for Other You in the future.

"I—" She starts. "I have to go."

You nod. "There's a fire escape out the bathroom window. Hold on—" You go to your dresser and pull out a hooded coat, moving to drape it over her, only to stop short when her shoulder tenses. Her eyes are trained on you, a slight air of hostility between them. You don't push to put on the coat, but you don't lower your arm either; waiting for her make the decision for you.

Her eyes flit around the room, seemingly trying to find her words around your home. She lets out a sigh, her shoulders drooping slightly. You take this as a positive sign, and gently place the coat over her shoulders. You see her hand tense around your gun, not in a threatening way, instinctively.

You slowly back away from her to give her space. She looks away from you as she slips her free hand into one of the sleeves, before grabbing the gun and slipper her other arm into the remaining sleeve. It's a little big on her, but the size and the addition of the hood is enough to hide anything that could immediately identify her.

There's uncertainty in her eyes when she looks back at you; she hesitantly lifts the hand holding the gun, the barrel clutched in her hand. "This is yours."

You shake your head. "As much as I hate to say this, you might need it."

She mutters an oh before holstering the gun in her hip. You gesture to an open door and lead her into the bathroom, pulling the window open and checking if there was anyone in the alley below. The sun was slowly but surely rising, it's rays already illuminating the dim streets in the main road.

"Coast is clear, stick to the alleys and you should be fine." You stand aside and let her climb out, her hand resting on the windowsill. The look she gives you tells you that she's trying to find an ounce of deception in your features. But she won't find any, not when it concerns her, not ever.

"I'll…I'll get you your gun back."

"Don't worry about it." You shrug. "I'll find you."

You see the ghost of a smile on her lips as she turns around and climbs down the ladder, disappearing into an adjacent alleyway.

"I always seem to find you." You mutter to yourself.

-----

One Hundred Sixty-Eight

The familiar smell of grease and burnt metal fills your nose as you enter your old workshop. Jayce had been kind enough to hand you the keys after you had asked if you could see the old place. Don't go too crazy he said. You rolled your eyes at his comment, of course. It wasn't as if you were going to steal anything as a souvenir; maybe draw something inappropriate on a whiteboard, sure. But as you drew closer to the lab, you spotted Jinx's car, and well, now you were going there for two reasons. You should have just turned around and not indulged Other You's—not yours!—thoughts. The length of time you spent in each timeline was getting longer on average, and you had to make the best of it while you could, especially with the mark slowly fading with each pass.

You walk towards the wall of the shared space, everything was still as messy as you—Other You—remembered. Diagrams and papers still littered table tops, probably permanent coffee stains on tables. But the hanging photos were new.

The first one was of Viktor and Jayce when they first started working on Hextech, just two young adults that barely knew what they were doing. The second one was of you three right after they had officially hired you. The third one was Jayce, Viktor, Ekko, and Jinx. Your eyes stray back to the middle photo, the one with you in it. The moment felt like lifetimes ago.

It's strange, looking at the person cheekily smiling back at you, already older than you in your original timeline. This body felt terribly tired, like the Other You here went through the ringer trying to get here.

The sound of a chair screeching and shuffling around one of the rooms grabs your attention. Your eyebrows furrow. Jayce didn't say anything about someone else being here, especially nearing midnight. You cautiously make your way to the room, trying not to make too much noise in case they'll think you're an intruder. The door is ajar, letting light seep through the darker main floor. There's a pull in your chest again, and you're reminded of your second objective here. Other You had wanted to speak to Jinx earlier, but couldn't because there was a line of other people that wanted your attention. By the time you broke free from the others, Jinx had already left.

A familiar warmth fills your chest. It looked like she had gone straight back to work after the party, still in her dress, heels discarded on the side, twirling a pencil as she looked over notes. Her headphones were on, and the couch she was lounging on was turned away from the door, so you doubt she'd hear or see you moving around.

You open the door fully and lean against the frame, deciding to wait until she notices you standing there. Not like you'd go unnoticed long, she probably felt the tugging too.

It's not even a minute before she stops what she's doing and turns around. There's a split second where surprise crosses her features, but she quickly recovers, raising an eyebrow at you instead.

"Come crawling back to the slums have we?" She says as she takes off her headphones and leaves it at her neck. She wears her hair down nowadays. It's also shorter here, only reaching the middle of her back. It's refreshing to see, and you find yourself brushing off the question of whether or not the older Jinx in your timeline would cut her hair the same one day.

"Something like that."

She scoffs, turning back to look at her work. Her words are friendly, but there's tension in the air. You're not sure if you should move into the room, or leave.

"Don't stand there like a creep, come sit." She pats the space next to her. There's no edge to her words either, so maybe the tension is coming from you. You're aware that there's a significant amount of history between her and Other You, but you're not sure whether this is the time or place to be settling past issues. What you do know, is that you shouldn't wait any longer before sitting down next to her.

There's a metal box in the coffee table in front of you, next to where Jinx has propped up her legs. "It's a prototype for a gemstone case." She says before you can ask. She takes the small box and twirls it in her hand, small prongs are protruding on the inside. "The goal is to make sure the gemstones only work if they're in these. So we can start using them for the more dangerous jobs around here; stop people from stealing them, since you have to break the case to get the stone."

You take the box when she offers it, testing the weight of it in your hands. "Did you go straight here after the party?"

"Not much to do there for me." She shrugs. "I'd rather work on this. Besides, you went here after the party, too."

"Fair point." You set the case back down on the table, and watch Jinx place it on a small stand to the side. "You work until midnight often?"

The corners of her lips quirk into a smile. "Talis is drowning in debt with the amount of overtime he has to pay me." You're about to laugh along with her, till you remember Jayce's comment earlier. Jayce you little—

She nudges you with her shoulder. "You're thinking again, that can't be good."

"Jayce."

"What about him?"

"Some dumb comment he said earlier when he gave me the keys to here."

"Oh?" A mischievous look in her eyes. "What did my boss say, exactly?" You grimace. This isn't fair, she fully knows Jayce said something completely out of pocket.

"Nothing."

"Bull. Tell me so I can take it out of context and bully him into giving me a raise." At this comment you actually laugh. You don't doubt that Jinx has probably done that at least once already. Jayce's tendency to say things without thinking is the worst thing to have when working with someone like Jinx.

"Tell me." She nudges you again, this time with a little more force. "Or else."

"Or else what?"

"I'll kick your ass." Just like that, the tension in the air lifts. You remember the times this version of yourself was at odds with Jinx, only to make up after spending a few minutes together. It's terrifyingly so easy, how fast she can disarm you—literally and figuratively—like it's nothing. How she beckons you over and you oblige with desperate speed. But Other You isn't as experienced in resisting Jinx's charms—ie your souls being tied together, apparently—so you still have the audacity to push her buttons.

"Aren't you too old to be threatening to kick people's asses?" She leans back, mouth agape, you snort at her expression, but the entertainment is short lived as a throw pillow connects with your face. You huff, genuinely surprised that she'd hit you. She throws her head back and barks out a laugh at your expression.

"Can't believe you're still a brat at thirty."

"Watch it, buster. You're the same age as me."

"You know what they say about growing up being a choice." You duck this time when she swings, grabbing the throw pillow next to you and decking her in the face with it. For a second you think that you hit her too hard—and these throw pillows were notorious for being harder than regular pillows—but the second you drop the one in your hand, she tackles you.

You're momentarily disoriented as your back lands on the seat. Jinx hits you a few more times, before she pins you down with the pillow, legs on either side of your waist, chest heaving. You sink further into the couch as she leans in close.

"Take that back."

The logical side of you knows that you should just say sorry, but the prideful side of you refuses to relent. "Which part? Growing up being a choice, or you being a bra—" The pillow thuds against your face. "Ow! Hey! Those things hurt."

You sit up to grab her wrists before she can land another blow. She pushes you in response, getting herself pulled down with you in the process. You lean a bit to side to stop your heads from hitting each other, Jinx pressing flush against you. The last thing Jayce needed was one of his employees getting a concussion because of a pillow fight. Though, you could use that as an excuse to get rid of the old throw pillows, but that would come with the price humiliation for you and Jinx. Not to mention relentless teasing from your other friends.

You shake your head at the train of thought. You were thinking too much about this, you really should have just turned around earlier.

The sound of her laughter brings you out of your musings. The way her chest rumbled with each breath. She rests her head in the crook of your neck, it doesn't even occur to you that you've let go of her hands, instead moving your them to her back and keeping her close—so she doesn't roll off and hurt herself, of course.

You yourself were out of breath, and probably flushed—because you were getting older and tire easy, nothing else!—as you felt yourself laughing with her.

When she lifts her head to look at you, she makes sure that she's still close enough that her lips brush against your jaw. The both of you know it's a proven and effective way for your mind to go blank, for you to focus solely on her. You keep telling yourself you be able to resist it, eventually. You never do.

The logical part of your brain once again reminds you that it's not a good idea to be this close, to prolong the time you two are in close proximity to each other. That you need to prioritize finding a way home, that there are people that depend on you and that this is irresponsible behavior. But for some reason, you find yourself not wanting to listen for once.

Maybe it's just because your souls might be tied to each other. Maybe it's because you spent the last one hundred sixty-seven timelines watching other versions of yourself being in love or falling in love with her. Maybe it's because of the Other You here, and her relationship with this Jinx. The both of you are older in this timeline, you've known each other longer, know each other better, seen each other grow together and apart, only to find your way back to her, over and over again.

It's not just that, though.

It's the softness in her eyes whenever she looks at you, the way she brushes your hair out of your face. It's every time she checks on you if she senses that you're not alright. It's her knowing what you want to say before you say anything. How immersed she gets in her work, drowning out the rest of the world while she works on a project. Every morning that you've had to wake up next to her, watching her sleep peacefully. It's her temper, and how passionate she gets when arguing over something. It's finding her doodles and notes that she's left for you every single timeline. It's the urge to find her when you end up in a timeline where she isn't immediately by your side.

It's her, all one hundred sixty-eight versions of her, and every version after. Honestly, how many variations of yourself do you have to watch love this girl before you finally admit it to yourself?

Too many.

"Got something to say to me?" The corner of her eyes crinkle as she smirks at you.

It's how she knows you.

"I love you." You breathe out. She doesn't try to hide her surprise this time, or isn't able to. She blinks a few times, and you smile at the fact that it's her mind going haywire for once.

You take advantage of her being momentarily stunned, sitting up, keeping your hold on her so she actually doesn't fall over. She instinctively grabs onto your shoulders for support.

"It's getting late." Her eyebrows furrow at your words.

"You just told me you love me, and now you're dipping?"

"I mean…You haven't answered, and I'm getting sleepy. Plus, the bed at the hotel I got is really ni—"

She doesn't let you finish as she yanks you into a kiss. You happily oblige, sighing and pulling her closer. Sadly, it doesn't last long as she breaks the kiss with a start, pushing your shoulders back when you try to chase after her lips.

"You really need to learn when to shut up sometimes." You take the hint and stay quiet, trying to bite back the smile already forming on your face. She rolls her eyes at your expression, having trouble hiding her own smile.

She doesn't need to say it back, not really. You understand that she hasn't seen Other You in a long time, and although the latter felt the same, your confession was more of a selfish move for yourself, really.

You can wait. As long as she wants, as long as she needs.

Her eyes flit back to your lips, before returning to your eyes. The mischievous glint returning.

"What's this about your hotel room having a nice bed?"

---

Two Hundred Fourteen

Meetings at the Firelight hideout weren't unusual.

In fact, a lot of your meetings with the group were often held here. Especially once Jinx had found out where you lived. So when you received a message from Ekko asking you to head over there because they had gotten a tip about a shipment of Shimmer, there were no alarm bells ringing in your head. A rookie mistake on your part, really.

To be completely fair, you had taken advantage of the two months you were here. You've never stayed anywhere over ten days, and the fact that you still had some semblance of the mark on your forearm meant that you were still going to get pulled into a different timeline at some point. But in the meantime, you started tinkering with equipment you could use to build your own Hex gate. The only thing missing was a gemstone.

Also in order to be completely fair. You were busy with Jinx, who you were slowly trying to convince to leave Silco's employ entirely. Which was a complicated thing to tackle, because you were an independent contractor that often worked with the Firelights. This meant that when she started showing up to your home unannounced, you had to switch up your dead drops and meet up points with the group, if only to keep the peace while maintaining your most consistent client.

And now you're in this predicament.

Surrounded by Firelights, plus Vi and Caitlyn.

You had hoped, foolishly, that this was as similar to your timeline as it was gonna get, at least with the limited amount of jumps you probably had left. You were lucky enough that Other You here and Jinx had met previously, and already kickstarted the inevitable chain of events that would have brought them together. You thought you had time before Vi and Jinx would meet, which was due in a few days from now.

You thought a lot of things, but at the end of the day, that was all they were. Two Hundred timelines in, and you still had trouble dealing with unpredictable situations.

"Piltover is one bad day away from sending enforcers to find Jinx."

"Damn, I hope they find her, then." Ekko groans, clearly not in the mood for the clueless act. Caitlyn steps forward a bit too abruptly, you draw your gun, everybody draws their weapons. Caitlyn glares at you, daring you to make the first move. You're a good shot yourself, but you know from past experience that there was no way you'd beat her in a gunfight.

"Hey—hey! Easy!" Vi gets between all of you, arms up, trying to lessen the tension. Ekko nods at his people—your people—and they lower their weapons. You shake your head for a second, before lowering yours. Other You was being protective and reckless, you had to control yourself. The last thing you want to do is hurt your people.

Caitlyn keeps her rifle trained on you, you maintain your glare towards her until she puts her gun down. "This is pointless." She looks towards Vi. "I say arrest her, and lure Jinx out."

"Can't arrest me if you're out of a job." Caitlyn narrows her eyes at your response. Fuck, wasn't supposed to know that.

"What, you think I don't have eyes and ears topside?" You're fairly sure that she'll buy your bluff, purely because there's no other explanation for you to know that. Thankfully Vi calls for everyone's attention.

"Look, we won't get anywhere arguing." She looks over to you, a silent plea in her eyes. You feel terrible about all of this, of course. You know she's just trying to find her sister after years of being locked up unfairly, in Stillwater no less!

"I know you care about her, and that you're the reason she's been quiet the last few months." It takes a bit of effort to keep your face neutral, your mind already working to figure out just how exactly they knew about you and Jinx. Had you become careless these past few months? Was she careless?

She moves a bit closer to you, arms in a placating gesture. "But if she doesn't return the gemstone, or worse, Silco gets his grimy hands on it, then Piltover will flood the streets with enforcers, and it'll be another civil war."

You wish you could tell them that Piltover wouldn't be able to handle the Undercity now, not with shimmer already being weaponized.

"I don't know where she is." You answer truthfully. As close as you two were these last couple of months, you didn't make it a point to know her whereabouts at every single hour of the day.

Caitlyn interjects. "Six enforcers are dead because of her, even more people wounded. Are you really going to protect someone who was willing to kill so many people in cold blood?" She makes a move to grab you, but Vi holds her back. Your jaw clenches. You thought you had swayed her enough that she wouldn't have gone through with the Progress Day attack.

Vi looks over to Ekko, who has mercifully stayed quiet. There's a disappointed look on his face, either for your involvement with Jinx, or your indirect betrayal on the Firelights, you're not sure. He nods over to the other FIrelights, who all lunge at you.

You try to fight back, easily sidestepping to avoid the first person to lunge, then using their momentum to launch them into the next person. A third person tries to hit you with their club, and you narrowly duck under their swing, springing to push them off their feet, and make your way to the door. On any other day, this would've been a fun sparring session, but sadly it wasn't any other day. And this was quickly becoming a one-on-seven fight.

Ekko grabs you from behind and bear hugs you. You feel the air being pushed out of your lungs as you struggle out of his grip. You drop to your knees, using his temporary loss of balance as leverage, and swing your body forward, he stumbles enough that his grip loosens, and you throw the rest of him over your shoulders. You turn around to make your way to the door again, before a fist connects right on your jaw. That's right, Vi is here, too

You quickly fall to your knees, the room is already spinning. you pitifully try to maintain your balance while on all fours, hanging onto a nearby chair for support. Two people grab you by the arms and begin to drag you away, you try to pull your arms free, but are met with a kick to the gut. You relent, letting them drag you into a dark room.

Their version of a holding cell, tying you down and taking your holsters and your coat. You're still a bit disoriented, but you're lucid enough to recognize Ekko's shadow when he approaches you.

"I'm sorry it has to come to this," He starts. "But if Silco gets his hands on Hextech, the Undercity will lose a lot more people. Good people."

You feel your chest ache at his words. You've been fighting for the Undercity your entire life, that's the last thing you want. But never in a million lifetimes would you betray Jinx. "You have to let me find her, Ekko." You plead.

"I can't trust your judgment on this."

"Try." He purses his lips, for a second you think he'll let you go. You weren't as close her as you were in your timeline, but you hope that your reliability in this one is enough to convince him.

He sighs, and the spark of hope you have is snuffed out. "This is for the best." He stands up and leaves the room, two guards replacing him.

Normally, you would be flattered. Two people guarding you even though you were already unarmed, and it doesn't even look like they're changing shifts soon. They don't take your eyes off of you either, so you pass the time counting the seconds. They probably already left to go find Jinx, which meant you had to give them at least a half hour head start before you could try to escape.

The minutes pass by quickly, and once you're nearing the thirty minute mark, you start prepping your escape plan.

They took away your coat and your holster with your weapons, but they didn't take away your belt. Which was a good thing because you actually needed it to pull your baggy pants up, but also because you had jammed a blade in between the leather. A knife was also welded into the buckle, built to quick release with the push of a button.

You carefully start to pry the blade out of the leather, being mindful not to cut yourself. You successfully get your knife out, quietly cutting your hands free. your next order of business was your feet. You'd have to time it with taking out both guards, who were both about six steps away from you. If you were lucky, you'd be fast enough to cut your feet loose and take them down at the same time.

You hedge your bets on yourself, and quickly lunge forward, cutting your feet loose in one swift motion. Both guards stand up, and you toss your knife just close enough to one of them that they freeze. You grab your other knife from your buckle, meeting the one still running towards you halfway. You slide downwards, jamming the butt of the knife into his knee, then following up by clocking him in the jaw with it as soon as he falls down. The one that was momentarily stunned launches himself at you, but you expertly roll out of the way and jump from behind him, putting him in a headlock. You tighten your hold, hoping to knock him out quickly. He struggles for a few moments, before his arms go limp, and you let him fall to the floor.

"Not bad." You say to yourself, impressed. You take the keys off of them and their mask, hoping it'll help you sneak out. Thankfully, you find that your stuff is just in the next room, and you hastily put your gear back on before sneaking out to find Jinx.

She wasn't in any of her usual haunts, or any of your haunts for that matter. You realized halfway through your search that she was avoiding you as well. It made sense; you had gotten her to stop with the over the top antics for Silco, and you were sure she knew that you didn't want her to continue working for him anymore. So this… whatever this was, you were probably not supposed to find out. Unfortunately for her, you're keenly aware of at least some of the events about to transpire. Which meant you didn't have a lot of time left; maybe the timeline of events was sped up somehow? The butterfly effect tended to go crazy, who knows what got kicked into gear when you showed up here?

You're halfway to giving up and going straight to Silco when you catch sight of blue smoke come off of one of the taller buildings in The Lanes. A flare?

"She told me that if I lit this up, she'd find me."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere. She promised."

Your feet are already kicking the ground before you even register it.

She had to have heard about Vi being back. How the hell did you forget? The most important thing you didn't take into consideration before running around the Undercity like a headless chicken. Of course she would find out. If they had met Ekko this soon, that would've meant that this timeline had an entirely different flow from yours.

So much for considering variations in the timelines.

The entrance to the old building is bolted shut, so you start climb up pipes and rooftops, anything to get there before the others did. Your arms were burning, but you sure as hell preferred that than having to fend off Vi and the others if they got there first. From the last time this happened, Jinx did not have the best reaction.

You're barely able to shout her name once you get half onto the roof, but you push yourself up and run towards her, swatting the flare out of her hands. Her shock lasts only a second before she rams you in the stomach with Pow-pow. It only occurs to you now that you're still wearing a firelight mask.

"It's me, it's me!" She recognizes your voice before you can even take off the mask. Her hostility quickly dissipates, before being replaces with hesitation.

"I—What are you doing here?" Her tone is accusatory, but it's only half meant. You know she's nervous because she thinks you haven't heard about the Progress Day explosion. You pull her into a hug, hoping to provide some comfort, if any, to make sure she doesn't have a panic attack.

"I'll explain later, okay?" You say as you pull back, cupping her cheeks. "We need to get out of here."

There's a smidgen of doubt at the back of your mind that she'll go with you, but thankfully, she nods as you lead her off of the roof.

The both of you head to her hideout. Not the safest place to go to, but your house was definitely the worse option. You're not even there for a minute before you start questioning her.

"Did Silco ask you to do this?" You say as you set down Pow-Pow on a table. She looks away from you, the shame on her face evident. Your gaze softens at the sight, and you remind yourself that this is Silco's fault, not hers.

"Hey," You walk over to her and gently turn her chin to look at you. "You don't have to go through with what he has planned, alright? I'll return the gemstone, Tell them I found it rolling around in an alleyway."

Fear flashes across her features. "I can't." She pushes herself away from you. "I need to finish what he asked me to do. Then we can…"

You're tempted to reach out a hand and hold her, but you stop yourself short, afraid that you'll scare her away. "What is he asking you to do? I'll do it, just…don't go back to doing the dirty work."

She smiles at you sadly. "He wants me to build something with it." Her launcher.

"Jinx." There's a sudden urgency in your voice that catches her off guard. She doesn't know what'll happen if she makes it, but you do. You know who dies, and what happens because of it.

It's instant, how she recognizes what you want to say, just by looking at you. She walks back over to you and pulls you close, until your foreheads are touching. "It'll be okay."

There's a sincerity in her eyes that nearly convinces you. If you hadn't brought with you the knowledge from your own timeline. Your chest aches for her, how sure she is that things will be fine. "We can just drop this, Jinx." You say softly. She shakes her head.

"No. I can't."

"Why not?" There's a storm brewing behind her eyes. You know she doesn't want to do this. Maybe if you just—

"You just have to trust me."

"I do trust you." You pull away from her, ignoring the instant guilt you feel when you see the hurt flash across her face. You run a hand through your hair in frustration, your hand rubbing the side of your brow. "It's Silco I don't trust! We can just toss the stone into the harbor and call it quits—"

"I told you, I can't!"

"Why?!"

"Because I can't risk it!" Tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. It takes you a few seconds, silence stretching between the both of you, before it dawns on you.

She was doing this for you.

You shake your head. "No. You are not going to do something you don't want to because of me."

She smiles at you sadly. She wasn't going to budge.

A lightheadedness starts to come over you, and you grab onto the desk for support. All of those timeline you had to go through, only for you to cause one to go through the same path yours did. No, you can't let it happen here. There has to be some way to stop all of this.

A pair of arms grab onto yours, grounding you. "Easy there, jelly legs."

You look up at concerned blue eyes, and a thought occurs to you.

"What if we leave?"

She blinks, taken aback by your question. "What?"

"Leave. Start over. Away from the undercity, from Piltover, everything."

"We can't just leave." She tries to look away from you, but you lean towards her.

"What's stopping us? I can get us an airship. Didn't you say you always wanted to ride one of those things?" For a second, you see hope in her eyes. You want to think that she's imagining a simpler life with you—Other You, you quickly remind yourself—away from everything that's ever caused the both of you pain.

And then It's gone, and she backs away from you. "You should go." She turns away from you, idly looking at her notes.

Anything she wants, anything she needs. Your jaw clenches, but you're dead set on this solution. It's the only way to keep everyone alive in this.

"Tomorrow, at the docks. I'll have an airship ready."

Tomorrow couldn't come sooner.

It could, actually. Because the time between you leaving Jinx's hideout and waiting on your newly acquired airship seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye. And now you were pacing around the outside, waiting for her to show up.

You shouldn't be this nervous, you know she'll show up. It's nearly guaranteed that she'll show up, nothing's stronger than the bond between the two of you. There's a slight pang of guilt as you consider that you took advantage of this, eliminating her choice in the matter entirely. But it'll be fine, this was the best way to avoid a war.

It isn't long before she shows up. She always does, but you feel the weight of the world lift off of your shoulders anyway. You waste no time running towards her and enveloping her in a hug. She holds you just as tight. You know how much she's leaving behind by agreeing to this, her whole life, her memories of her family, everything.

"We'll be okay." She whispers into your ear. You will be forever thankful for how well she can read you.

You pull away just far enough so you can plant a kiss on her forehead. "As much as I want hold you like this." You start. "You'd best get on the ship so I can untie it."

She chuckles a bit before pulling away—not before placing a chaste kiss on your lips—and disappears through the door. You move to hurriedly untie the cleats for the ship.

This is it. You're almost out.

"Stop!"

Almost out.

You whip around and see Ekko, along with some of your Firelight friends. You pull out your gun, absolutely loathing the possibility of having to use it on your own people. The thought of them harming Jinx does little to quell your inner turmoil.

"Just let us go, Ekko." You plead, pride thrown aside. "You and I both know it was Silco who put her up to it."

He shakes his head. "We can't do that. Not when Piltover is threatening to knock down our doors."

"So you're giving up one of your own?!"

"You think I don't understand what that means?" He steps closer to you. "Everything I've done was to help our own. Do you have any idea what it's like having to give up someone you grew up with, to save hundreds more?!"

"So don't give her up, let us leave!"

"She killed half a dozen people—"

"She had no choice!"

"Everyone has a choice!"

"You would've blown up a hundred enforcers if one of them threatened someone you loved!"

"It doesn't change what she did!"

"She only did it because Silco forced her to! Why hell aren't you going after him?" You lift your gun and point it at Ekko, who doesn't back down. All of your Firelight friends lift their own weapons, and you notice some of them gliding around in their hoverboards.

You always wondered what would happen if you died in a timeline.

Maybe it was time to test it out.

"Don't do this." There's hesitation in Ekko's eyes, but the both of you know that there's only one way left for this to end.

His eyes pull away from yours, moving to look at something just behind you.

You hear her call out your name, and you turn, oblige, anything for her.

She smiles at you, The softness in her eyes only reserved for you.

"I love you."

Dread seeps into your bones. There's no reason for her to say it with such finality. You know she loves you, she always does, she always will. You say it back just so she knows that you'll love her in every one, too.

"Take care of Vi for me, okay?" You nod dumbly and she turns around, walking back towards the airship.

The sound of a gunshot echoes across the docks, you think it's you who's been hit, the way the air is knocked out of your lungs, the way your ears start ringing, and everything goes numb.

"It's okay, you're okay, I've got you."

But it isn't you who falls limp onto the floor. It isn't your gun that clatters to the ground. It isn't you who's no longer breathing—not in this timeline.

“I was just starting to find you attractive.”

You stumble towards her, all but falling to your knees.

"Stop thinking."

Tears start to blur your vision as you try to reach for her hand.

"It's like we already know each other."

Your breath catches in your throat, you gently pry the Hextech gemstone from her fingers.

"I love you."

A sob escapes your lips. You can't let anyone see her like this.

"We'll be okay."

Your hands shake as you pull off your coat, draping it over her like a blanket.

You don't hear Ekko tell the Firelights to stand down. You don't hear him tell the Firelights to swear to silence.

You found Jinx before she could escape. You were the one who shot her. That was what they were going to tell everyone.

And you—you sit there, holding her hand, as everything else around you falls apart.

-----

Two hundred fifteen

"You need a top up for that, love?"

"No—" A shaky breath escapes your lips. "No, thank you."

How cruel must the gods be,

"Okay, you need anything else?"

To drag you through hell, then bring you back to the start?

"Love? You alright?"

The tears register a bit late, and you quickly wipe your eyes, meeting the concerned gaze of the man behind the bar.

Vander.

"Allergies." You blurt out. "They get pretty bad this time of year."

An eyebrow is raised, clearly doubting your poor excuse. You place your hands on your lap, safely out of his view, just so he doesn't see how much they're shaking.

"That so?"

You let out a nervous chuckle. It's taking everything you've got not to randomly break down at The Last Drop in the middle of the day.

"Yeah, yeah. I uh—I think I'll go blow my nose outside, actually."

"Hold on now—"

Whatever Vander says falls on deaf ears as you slide out of your chair, heading for the side door.

A wave of nausea starts blankets over you as you reach for the door and quickly step outside. You try to take a steadying breath, but there's a painful tightness in your chest, and all you can manage are a few stuttered gasps. Your vision starts to swim, legs collapsing from underneath you—the image of her blood spraying in the air replays in your mind—and you lean against the wall for support. Try as you might, a choked sob forces its way out of you. You clamp your hand over your mouth to keep your cries quiet, as your shoulders violently shake.

She died. Because of me. Because I was brash and reckless.

I shouldn't have tried to run.

I should have waited for things to die down.

I fucked up.

If I hadn't interfered, she would still be alive.

It's my fault.

"We'll be okay."

Your fist connects with the wall. The blooming pain in your knuckles provide a welcome distraction from your thoughts. So you punch the wall again, then again, and again, until red starts to coat the once grey cement. Anything to block out the image of her dying. Anything so you don't see her lifeless body when you close your eyes.

You only stop when you can no longer close your hand into a fist.

You hear the door open behind you, someone stepping out to puking on the side. Poor sap.

There's no way to make any coherent conversation with whoever this drunk person is. So instead, you gingerly cover your injured hand with the uninjured one, and push yourself off the ground.

You stiffen when you see who's throwing up in the corner.

Ekko.

What you'd do just so you could speak to him again. You miss your home, your friends, your people, your tree. Hell, even the grimy smell of the tunnels headed there.

When he's done heaving his guts out, he turns around and flops onto the floor, looking up when he notices you, and you lock eyes.

There's a disoriented look in his eyes, one you're extremely familiar with.

The door swings open again.

"One can't go shouting from the rooftops about being thrust into parallel dimensions without—Oh!" Heimerdinger shuts his mouth when he catches sight of you. He tucks the book he was about to hand Ekko under his armpit. "Hello there miss!" He chuckles nervously. "Quite a day we're having, isn't it?"

No.

No way.

"Ekko? Professor?"

It's Heimerdinger who recovers first. "Oh how wonderful!" He exclaims as recognition flashes in his eyes. "It seems the anomaly which dislodged us from our proverbial reality, also scattered us throughout time!" He throws his hands up, dropping Ekko's book to the ground. "But we're all here now, so everything is fine."

Ekko lets out a sigh of relief, before standing up and dusting himself off. "Man, I thought I was going crazy." Heimerdinger shuts the door again and begins explaining what happened to him while he was in this timeline.

Their conversation barely registers with you; tears once again well in your eyes. You walk forward, barely trying to contain the sob that comes out of your mouth as grab Ekko and pull him into a hug. You don't even try to stop yourself from shaking while you're crying into his shoulder.

The Firelights were a tightknit group, but you were always the less emotional, sometimes cynical one. So Ekko is understandably surprised and concerned when you're clutching onto him for dear life and bawling your eyes out. He holds you and rubs circles on your back either way, and lets you cry.

The door swings open a third time. Heimerdinger lets out a surprised squeal.

"Oh—uh sorry."

You flinch at the sound of her voice. Quickly pulling away from Ekko, you step back a few paces, and wipe your eyes. Your eyes stay glued to the ground, you can't bring yourself to look at her. Jinx's final words start replaying again in your head. There's not much you can do to distract yourself but to try and move your injured hand. It works, and the immediate pain keeps your grieving mind at bay.

"Hey, your hand." She speaks up again.

Fuck.

"It's nothing." You put your injured hand behind your back, grimacing as the pain shoots through you. "I…slipped."

A poor excuse, really. You're sure all three of them can see the blood stain on the wall, but you're not looking at any of them. So who knows, maybe they didn't see it.

"I uh—have something to do with Ekko and Professor." You keep your eyes low as you send a pointed look to Heimerdinger. He shrugs in response. "So we should really go—"

Ekko thankfully mutters in agreement with you, but Powder doesn't budge. "Ekko! Your friend's hurt, and we have a perfectly stocked first aid kit here."

As if on cue, you hiss as pain shoots up from your hand.

"See?"

"Perhaps it would be better if you allowed Ms. Powder to take a look at your hand." You let out a defeated sigh. Not like you can blame either of them—they don't know what happened to you.

Powder tries to reach for you, but you step away and start walking to the door. She thankfully takes the hint and guides you all through the bar.

------

You're all ushered into the back room that serves as a storage area for the staff, which just meant Vander's children. Powder sets you down on a chair, while Ekko and Heimerdinger whisper in hushed tones in the opposite corner of the room.

Against your request, it's Powder who cleans your hand, and dress it in bandages. She's also the one to put a bag of ice on it to help with the swelling. You're the one blinking back tears or wiping your eyes, claiming it to be pain from your hand.

She's the one to make small conversations, that you give curt replies to.

She's the one to ask you about yourself, that you shut down immediately, claiming to be uncomfortable with personal questions.

She's the one that reaches out, you're the one to pull away.

You still can't look at her, so you settle on staring at whatever interesting item is off to the side or on the ground.

Eventually she gives up, and leaves you with Ekko and Heimerdinger while she goes back to work, claiming she'll be back in a bit.

"What happened to you?" Ekko rushes over to you as soon as the door closes, concern written all over his face. He gestures to your bandages. "And what happened to your hand?"

You shrug tiredly. You could really use a nap right now. "I jumped through one too many realities."

Heimerdinger pipes up. "One too many?"

"Yeah, like, multiple ones…" Your eyebrows knit at his question. "Have neither of you…"

"No." Ekko shakes his head. Moving his chair to sit next to you. "How many realities have you been to, exactly?"

You blink. "This is two hundred and fifteen."

"Two hundred and fifteen?" Heimerdinger drops his banjo and rushes towards you. "And you're still mentally intact?" He drags a chair towards you and hoists himself up onto the table. Pulling out a pen light, he starts shining it on your eyes. "Your pupils looks normal, and I don't see any burst blood vessels…" He continues ramble to you until Ekko steps in.

"Professor, give her some breathing room."

"Oh right, my apologies." Heimerdinger scratches the back of his head sheepishly as he puts away the pen light.

"Okay then." Ekko sits back in his chair, leaning a bit toward you. "So, does jumping through different realities make you beat up a wall and cry?"

Fuck.

"I…I'm fine."

A sigh escapes your friend's lips as he crosses his arms, a frown on his face. "I've never seen you cry, then suddenly you're a sobbing mess."

You let out a shaky breath at his words, muttering a complaint.

"Look, I can't imagine what could have happened to you in over two hundred timelines. I can't even imagine how much time passed for you—"

"Five years, and a few months?" Ekko's eyes widen at the revelation.

"Five years? No wonder you're acting different." He puts a hand on your shoulder. "I can't help you if you won't talk to me—"

"Yeah, well maybe I don't need help." You quip, shrugging his hand off your shoulder. The expression on his face doesn't turn sour. If any, it becomes sympathetic.

"A friend to listen to you, then." He sends you a small smile, and you immediately regret snapping at him.

You tear your eyes at him to stare at the door Powder went through. "It's…illogical and kind of absurd if we're being honest."

"If I may, my dear. We're in an alternate reality where our lives are drastically different." Heimerdinger says as he picks up his banjo. "I think we've long departed the realms of logic and coherence."

You're hit with a sudden appreciation for your two companions. The familiarity, and the fact that you finally have people to speak with about your timeline jumping, makes you feel less alone after so long. And Heimerdinger is right, you're long past logic, so why not explain to them that you think you're meant to be with one person for eternity?

You run your uninjured hand down your face. "Do either of you believe in soulmates?" Ekko and Heimerdinger exchange looks, before turning back to you with puzzled expressions.

"Soulmates are a thing?" Your friend asks.

You sigh, trying to find the best way to explain. "I'm not exactly sure." A lie, and you know it. "No, wait, I'm sure. Soulmates are a thing, at least for me. I can't confirm for anyone else."

A look of realization hits Ekko. "Jinx... Wait, Jinx?"

"Yeah, that was my reaction too." You say as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"So you're saying, you're soulmates with one of the Firelight's biggest enemies?" His eyes are wide, you can almost see the gears in his head move.

"You know, enemies to lovers stories are usually a huge hit."

"You don't even read."

"A lot can happen in five years."

"Alright, children, settle down!" Heimerdinger puts his hands up in a placating manner. "I for one, would like to know how you came to find this out. How fascinating! To know your soul is tied to someone." Yeah, fascinating.

"So, how did you find out?" Ekko nudges you with his elbow. You throw him a scowl in response, before rolling your eyes and looking over to Heimerdinger.

"Every timeline. It was always her." You think back to the first time you jumped. "I remember the first jump I did. I was hurt, and she came running over. I remember feeling safe around her; I was only there for a few minutes before I got dragged somewhere else. And then, every jump after, I was either with her already, or at some point headed there. There was never anyone else."

"Was that all? Relationships that kept spanning across timelines?" The professor asks.

"No, not just that. I felt—" Feel. "—this pull towards her. There were times that I'd know where she was if we were close enough to each other."

"How intriguing." Heimerdinger starts pacing the room. "Never in my long life would I have guessed the existence of soulmates. And I've lived a very long life!"

"So something happened in the last one, then?" Ekko cuts in. Your jaw clenches, the reminder hitting you like a bucket of cold water.

"She died, in the last one. Shot herself, to protect me." His mouth falls open at your words, eyes widening slightly.

A heavy silence falls over the three of you; Heimerdinger sighs and walks over, giving you a pat on your knee. "Loss is already such a confounding and jarring experience. I can't imagine it what it felt like to lose one you're destined to be with."

"I didn't even have time to deal with it. I got pulled here right after it happened." Your run your good hand through your hair. "I feel the grief, but I also feel how happy the me in this timeline is when she sees Jinx."

"You coexist with the version of you in this reality?" The professor cocks a bushy eyebrow. You nod.

"Yes, it took a while to get used to. Even longer to manage."

"Well, if that isn't a shining example of your mental fortitude, then I don't know what is!" His enthusiasm softens as he gives you another pat. "You'll make it through your grief, I promise you that." He throws you a reassuring smile. And you feel your spirits lift a bit.

"You and Jinx, huh?" Ekko rubs his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I could see it." He yelps as you punch him in the shoulder with your good hand. "What? I'm trying to be helpful."

"Well you're not."

Heimerdinger ignores yours and Ekko's antics, curious eyes looking at you in anticipation. "So dear, tell me about these realities. Were all two hundred of them different from each other?" You shake your head.

"Not all of them were different, some timelines have very miniscule variations from each other, but are still the same with everything else that's there." You look up around the room. "I've been to this reality at least thrice."

"Incredible!" Heimerdinger exclaims, jumping up from his seat. "And how many unique realities have you been to?"

"Seventy-one, I think?"

"Was there a pattern you followed?"

"No, I just got jumped from one to another."

"How long were you in each reality?"

"I—usually a little over a week."

"Were there consistent behaviors between timelines?"

"I can hear you thinking from over there."

"Got something to say to me?"

You wince, shaking the memory away. "How big did the variations get?"

"Okay, jelly legs."

"Easy there, jelly legs."

"I don’t—"

"Oh, what about the people! How different were we from ourselves?"

"Okay, professor! Breathing room?" Ekko cuts in. Heimerdinger mutters an apology for his excitement. You pinch the bridge of your nose with your uninjured hand and sigh. So much for a distraction. "You okay?"

You nod despite obviously feeling the opposite—if Ekko of Heimerdinger notice, they mercifully don't bring it up—and sink a little further into your chair.

"Let's take a step back from the reality hopping, alright? We still need to figure out how to get home." He looks towards Heimerdinger, who's taken to plucking a tune on his banjo. "Professor, you said that Hextech doesn't exist here, which means there's no anomaly?"

"Precisely."

"Which just means we need to figure out a way to make our own Hextech." The both of them turn to you.

"I'm afraid once just can't go about creating their own Hextech, my dear. Without Jayce's notes, and the crystals—"

"Powder has a stash of them."

"—Excuse me?!"

"—A stash?"

The corner of your lip twitches, and you almost smile. But the crushing reminder that comes with Powder's name quickly grounds you. "She has them at her hideout."

Ekko's eyebrows furrow. "And you know this because…"

You shrug. "She told me, in the other timelines."

"Even so!" The professor gets in between you and Ekko. "Tampering with the Arcane is the reason we're in this very predicament! Who knows what mayhem we'll cause if we try to do it on purpose." Heimerdinger nods over to you. "It's a miracle we didn't have any physical side effects from changing realities."

"Well…" You say before you can stop yourself, causing Heimerdinger's eyebrows shoot up. "I had this thing on my arm." You pull the sleeve of your shirt up, revealing only the faded outline of the mark. "When I first noticed it, it was only my second jump—it was the same pattern as the one on our tree. But now," You run your hand over the faded outline. "It's just this. It was fading every jump I had."

Heimerdinger walks over and pulls out a magnifying glass. "Incredible. To think that the anomaly attached itself to you… Did you take note of any side effects?"

"There weren't any. I was disoriented the first few jumps, but eventually I got used to them."

"Well, if anything. This is a damning reason for us not to further meddle with the Arcane." He pockets the magnifying glass and huffs, Ekko and yourself understandably in disagreement. The latter stands up from his chair, frustrated with the professor.

"We don't belong here, professor. We have people who need us!" Heimerdinger tuts at Ekko and picks up his banjo, idly plucking the strings.

"You two just need to give it time."

"I've been jumping around timelines for five years, I've had more than enough time. I want to go home." The chair you're sitting on screeches as you push yourself off of it, and you start pacing the room. "Besides, I don't know if losing the mark means I stop jumping. I have a little over a week at most. The least I can do is get the both of you out of here."

A frown tugs at Ekko's mouth. "Wait. You mean there's a chance you can't come home with us?"

You sigh. "The conservative answer is yes. Look, we can recreate the anomaly here. We just need the—"

"Am I interrupting smart people discourse?"

You jump at Powder's words, and quickly retreat beside Ekko, eyes glued again to the ground. You don't miss the concerned look your friend gives you.

"Of course not, Ms. Powder." Heimerdinger starts walking to the door, much to yours and Ekko's chagrin. "You two take some time to get situated, clear your minds, and come find me afterwards."

Ekko shrugs from the corner of your eye. "I should get going."

You whip your head around to stare at your friend. "What?"

He puts his hands up. "I have to go uh—look at that thing you told me to check out."

You narrow your eyes at him. Did you miss some code word that was agreed upon? Ekko sighs as he walks behind Powder, you abandoning your quest to avoid looking at the girl in favor of figuring out what the hell your friend is saying.

"You get the thing you told us you needed, and then we can meet back with the professor."

"What?" Ekko looks at you pointedly, then at Powder.

Oh. The Gemstones.

Realization seemingly crosses your features, as Ekko promptly says his goodbye and shuts the door.

Leaving you with Powder. Did they not listen to your grief-filled monologue?

"Well, at least you're finally looking at me." She lets out an awkward chuckle. "Or at least, my general direction."

It's unfair, really; seeing the love of your life die in front of you one second, only for her to stand in front of you—alive and breathing—in the next. Her eyes still alight, curious, inviting.

And you, the mess of you. With your confusion, shock, grief, guilt; melding with relief, and the urge to hold her. The self-conscious look on her face already tearing down the walls you had just put up to protect what was left of your sanity. You couldn't even get away if you tried—and you've tried—because she'd follow you somehow, or you'd inevitably find your way back to her.

The bond of your souls demands to stay intertwined.

"So, do you need help with whatever you were getting?"

You blink. "Huh?"

Her lips curl into an amused smile. "Ekko said you had a thing you needed, that I totally believe exists by the way."

The easiness of how she speaks to you feels like a pair of hands wrapping around your throat. But it was between the friendly approach, or the concerned approach. The latter meant she'd ask why you were crying, so you'll just have to take this one and run with it.

"Uh, yeah." The words come out scratchy, there's an ever-present heaviness in your chest as you look at her, smiling at you. You clear your throat in an attempt to collect yourself. You found Ekko and Heimerdinger, and you have a week to get them—and hopefully yourself—home. You just need to push down the grief until then.

"You know anything about intradimensional travel?"

------

"So let me get this straight. You think you can create a way to transport anything from point A to B at light speed?"

"Not light speed, that's an entirely different can of worms." Powder rolls her eyes at you, leaning back into her bean bag chair.

It surprisingly took no effort for her to take you to her hideout; she even introduced you to Vi. A part of you wonders if this is because she felt sorry for you, but you can't really complain if it brings you closer to the energy crystals.

"Alright hotshot, what is it then?"

"It's more like—" You wince as you try to gesture with your injured hand. "—teleportation." You slouch into your own chair, resting your hand carefully on your stomach. "With magic."

She scoffs. "Can you do magic?"

"Nope."

"Pfft. Get a load of this guy, sis." Your eyes flit to Vi, sitting in her corner. "Sorry." There's a hint of embarrassment in Powder's eyes when you look back at her scratching the back of her neck. Only a second of confusion before you remember that you're a stranger to her here. "You must think I'm weird, talking to a plush of my dead sister. Which I'm not—I mean, I am talking to her. I meant the weird part, but if you ask my brothers they'd probably say I am weird—"

"I don’t think it's weird."

Another roll of her eyes. "Sure you don't."

"I think it helps." You say firmly, sitting up as best you can in a bean bag chair. "Talking to someone who's died, it keeps their memory alive, keeps me sane. Makes me feel like…everything's still normal, even though it's not."

Her eyes soften at your words; an expression you've seen thousands of times. One that used to give you comfort, now also draping you with the blanket of grief and guilt.

"You lost someone."

You tear your gaze away from her, choosing to stare at the drawer you know the energy crystals are stored. "I got her killed."

There's a shifting from Powder's side, and you turn to find her dragging her bean bag next to you, before flopping down and sighing. A few beats of silence pass before she speaks.

"When my sister died, I blamed myself for a really long time." Her eyes glisten as she looks at the altar she made for Vi, distant. "Back when things were harder for us down here, we did odd jobs from tips we'd get from Ekko."

A story you've heard hundreds of times, every version a bit different than the one before, but you'd listen every single time.

"There were these crystals. They looked valuable to me, so I took 'em. Didn't realize I dropped one and I guess it hit something." She sits up, hugging her knees towards her chest. "Next thing I know, half the apartment's blown up, and Vi…she put me under her so I'd be safe." You hear a sniffle as she suddenly looks away, not so subtly wiping her eyes. "We stopped doing jobs after that, focused on making things better here."

"I'm sorry." She snorts.

"Hey, I'm trying to comfort you, not the other way around." She puts her legs down, knocking her knee onto yours. "Anyway. My point is, she would've hated it if I spent the rest of my life blaming myself for what happened. If I just decided to be miserable all the time." A shrug, and she's standing up and stretching. "I sure as hell wouldn’t want her to blame herself, anyone of my family or friends really, if I was the one that died protecting them."

Forgiveness, handed out so nonchalantly. Completely unaware of the weight of her words. You almost hate feeling the weight lift off your shoulders; her forgiveness hadn't been earned, could never be earned. Not for Jinx.

But she still has the same soul.

"Alright, how exactly are we making your non-magic magic machine?" She says as she offers you a hand.

Still the same soul.

"We'll need to clear out some space." You say as you take her hand.

-----

Zero

"How fucking long were we gone?"

"Professor Heimerdinger…"

"There's Noxian's everywhere. What the hell's going on—Ekko!" You grab your friend by the shoulders, shaking him. "We won't have time to mourn the professor if we get sliced in half. We need to get home."

Ekko blinks a few times, before taking a deep breath and nodding. "You're right, you're right." He peeks his head out of the alleyway you're both hiding in, spotting Noxians soldiers pushing people out of their homes. "Why are they all here?"

"Beats me, but this can't be good." He ducks his head back in, unconsciously tucking the Z-Drive closer to him.

"We're you in any timelines where this happened?"

You nod. "Yes, but they were never in the Undercity. We were the ones taking the fight to them and Piltover."

The both of you stick to the wall as a group of Noxians soldiers march past, headed deeper into the Undercity. There was no way the both you could sneak back to the tunnel lines with that many eyes moving around. A curse is muttered at the thought, you needed to know how much time passed, and how much had changed in your absence.

"If only we could've gone back right after we left here." You rub your face in your hands. "I must've messed something up with the runes—"

"Hey, what happened to getting home being the top priority?" Ekko elbows you lightly on your side. "We can refine your rune work later," He points up to the roofs. "If we can't avoid getting to the tunnels from the ground, we'll have to cross the rooftops."

"Rooftops." You nod.

The both of you start climbing up pipes that are sticking out of the ground and around the buildings. Eventually making it onto a balcony, before jumping across the top of a smaller building. It provides you with a clearer view of the Undercity, still looking the same from where you are, despite the obvious changes occurring on the ground. The neon glow from various establishments, the ever present whir of the vents running through the streets, the gloomy allure atmosphere. Hell, even the smell was the same.

Ekko lands next to you, dusting himself off before surveying the skyline. "It's like nothing's changed from up here." He muses, reiterating your thoughts. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"We made it back...We actually did it." He looks over to you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Welcome back."

"Welcome back to you too, Ekko." He snorts, giving your shoulder another squeeze before letting go.

"Alright, let's head home." Ekko starts moving towards the next roof, and you follow suit. Each step you take giving you more confidence. Son enough, the both of you are running and leaping across rooftops.

You greedily breathe in the air, not caring at all that most people would consider Undercity air to be polluted. This was home. After spending five years trying to find a way back, who the hell could judge you?

"Hurry up!" Ekko shouts from ahead of you. Grinning, you lean forward and start kicking the ground harder.

"I'm just giving you a head start!" You say as you easily speed past Ekko, who huffs and matches your speed.

For a moment, you forget about all of your worries. You forget about the two hundred and sixteen jumps you did, all of the panic you went through, all of the memories you made, the lives you lived. It's just you and once of your closest friends, running through the rooftops of your city—your city. Not a variation of it in some other timeline. It's the place where you grew up, the place you're trying to fix and make better for the people. You run past familiar stores and landmarks, feeling your nostalgia grow by the second. It's a freeing sensation; leaving for years, then coming back home. Seeing everything be both familiar and new at the same time.

There's a billowing of dark smoke from your periphery. You almost miss it, but you turn your head and spot the smoke growing steadily. Unconsciously, you turn and start heading to where the smoke is. Ekko calls out to you, but starts to follow when he sees it as well.

You stop dead in your tracks when you find the source of the smoke. Dread starts to build in your chest.

The Last Drop, engulfed in flames.

There's no thought process involved before you jump down and enter the burning building, telling Ekko you'll meet him back home. You don't even heed Ekko's calls as you slide through a doorway before it collapses behind you.

-----

Your hands feel around for your gas mask hidden inside your coat, a sigh of relief as your eyes stop watering and you're able to breathe. Navigating The Last Drop is easy enough, you've been here plenty of times in the other timelines. But the problem wasn't finding your way around, it was figuring out why you decided to jump in in the first place.

Was it the thought of someone being stuck inside and needing help? Or was it the feeling of dread creeping up on you?

The sound of crackling wood fills your ears as you look up, a supports beam starts to collapse. You quickly duck out of the way before it falls, having no choice but to push in deeper into the bar. You start to think—hope—that no one is inside, since you haven't seen a single soul as you went from one room to the next.

You feel the pull before you register that it's her.

But this one is different, stronger. Enough that you almost stumble forward, as if it's somehow physically pushing you closer. You feel it wrap around your heart, clutching it tight, almost painfully so. The feeling of longing rushes over you, not the small waves that you felt in the other timelines, but a raging current, crashing through you and sweeping you towards her.

You wonder briefly why the feeling was much more intense. Was it because you were in other timelines? Did your soul know that they were Jinx, but they weren't your Jinx? Will she also feel this when she sees you? If this is what every other version of you felt when they were with their Jinx, their Powder, no wonder they can't keep themselves away from her.

She hasn't even seen you yet.

She has her back turned to you, hands limply at her side. Her hair jaggedly cut short, just above her shoulders, which are slumped in defeat. An almost instinctive need to comfort her enters your mind, but you push it down. The first thing you need to do is get her out of here.

She doesn't react violently when you pull her towards you, telling her that you had to get out of there. Does nothing when you pick her up and bring her out the side of the building. The same alleyway where you two would sneak off to steal kisses in one timeline, and mourned the loss of her in another. She's too stunned to do anything really. Maybe she felt the pull, maybe she was just surprised that someone had gone in to fish her out. But she doesn't do anything as you set her down and take off your gas mask. Nothing when you look over her, covered in soot and grime, to search for any injuries.

The second you meet her eyes, you know, you're sure, that her soul is letting her know who you are. That she's suddenly fallen into that same raging river that you find yourself in right now.

The surprise in her eyes softens, the same look you've seen thousands of times, that you'd try to find wherever you are.

The pull makes itself known again, probably ecstatic that you've found her in your own timeline. Not that you wouldn't have, anyway. Not even the omnipotent force that created every timeline to ever exist can keep you from finding her.

CRACK

But maybe a broken nose will.

You stagger backward. A hand over your nose, eyes wide from shock and confusion. She's polite enough to not say anything after she punches you. She awkwardly stands there and watches you curse as you push your nose back into place, wiping off the blood with your gloved hand. Yup, definitely broken.

At this point, two hundred and sixteen jumps after, you should really learn to be more vigilant when it comes to tackling unpredictable situations.

You keep a hand on your nose, one hand up on surrender. She still has her hand closed into a fist, but there's a shocked look on her face.

She Blinks a few times, before a look of frustration is on her face. "Who the hell are you?!" Her eyebrows are knit together; if your nose wasn't broken, you would find her confused frustration adorable.

"I thought you needed help." Your voice comes out nasally, and you can almost feel the bruises start to form.

"I don't need your stupid help."

Stubborn.

"Well who just stands inside a burning building?!" She huffs crossing her arms over her chest. It's now that you notice she's missing a few things from her usual outfit; her choker, the string marking the X on her top, her gloves—and had she been crying?

"First of all, stop looking at me like that, you creep. Second, it's none of your business."

"I literally just saved your—" The sound of clanking armor, and boots hitting the ground cuts you off.

You grab her hand without thinking, and pull her farther into the alleyway, away from the fire and the soldiers that have started to gather. Again, she's surprised, but doesn't protest. She doesn't let go even after you've stopped running.

"We need to get out of here. I have a safe house but it's a bit far. If we start moving now—"

"My place is closer." She tugs at your hand to get your attention—your eyes flitting down the same time as her—and you both realize that they're still clasped together.

You wait for her to let go of you, throw your hand and call you a creep again. For a moment you think she actually will; you see the conflicting emotions in her eyes. But she still doesn't.

"Just... follow me." She says tiredly, nodding down a road and half dragging you to her hideout. She only lets go of your hand when there's a tight squeeze into a tunnel and it would be too awkward to walk in side by side.

Neither of you talk the entire way there. You don't ask her where her hideout is—not that you need to, you could get there with your eyes closed at this point. She doesn't ask you how you can easily navigate through tricky the walkways and hidden passages.

At first you think she's still processing how she's feeling, but you remember the tear streaks, and the way her shoulders sagged as she looked at The Last Drop burning down. You wonder again how long you've been gone, what had happened to her in the meantime. Even now, she has her head down as she walks. Her demeanor completely different from the last time you saw her.

"I can hear you thinking from over here." She says nonchalantly. She sounds tired, her irritation from earlier long gone. "I'm not leading you to some murder house, if that's what you're wondering."

You shrug out of habit. "I know, I trust you."

Her head tilts up just a bit as she stops walking. She turns her head slightly to the side, just enough that she can see you from the corner of her eye. "You shouldn't." She doesn't wait for an answer before she starts walking again, and you're left to follow her in silence the rest of the way.

There's a hesitation in her step once you reach her hideout, stopping right in front of her desk, hands balled into fists. She tries to take a steadying breath, but it comes out shaky and uneven.

You take a look around her space, noticing how brighter everything is. Not like the other timelines where you meet her as Jinx, not like Powder's either. The space was more cleared out, lights had been added, a makeshift fort had been put over her couch.

She picks up something small on the desk, you recognize it as a smaller version of the robots you two made in a few timelines. Her eyes are distant as she turns it over in her hand, before setting it back down on the table. She doesn't look back at you as she speaks.

"Why'd you help me back there?"

"I would've helped whoever was in there regardless."

She scoffs, turning to face you, leaning against her desk. "Figures with you people."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You ask as you walk closer to her.

"You're a Firelight." You halt in your tracks just a few steps away, a puzzled look on your face. She's never figured that part out in any of the other timelines, either. "I've seen you before." She adds. "You always have your stupid mask on, but," A shrug, as she looks off to the side. "I recognized your eyes."

It's almost funny.

You spent the last five years learning that your soul wanted to be with Jinx, and this entire time, she's probably known hers wanted you.

There's a myriad of questions that pop up in your head, but Jinx is still upset about something, and figuring that out was more important.

"Why'd you burn the place down?" She crosses her arms at your question, keeping her gaze on the ground.

"I was breaking the cycle, or whatever that means." She sits down on a chair, and starts tinkering with a chomper on the desk.

"What were you gonna do after?"

"Haven't figured that part out yet."

"What about—"

"Coast should be clear by now, you can leave if you want." Her tone maintains the same aloofness she's had this entire time, but her shoulders are tense, her movements as she works on the chomper almost robotic.

Even though you’re guaranteed that your souls are entwined in every possible timeline, you find yourself at a loss for words. All the bravado and confidence that you’d carried with you with every other version of her, gone out the window. You really shouldn’t be worried, you know she’ll love you, she always does, she always will. Even when she's kicking you out.

Only this wasn’t the Jinx fighting for Zaun’s liberation, wasn’t the mildly annoying Academy classmate that got you into trouble, nor was she the Jinx that waited for you for years to be ready to come back to her.

This was your Jinx. And you know something is wrong.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Her hands stop moving, but you can see that her grip on her tools has tightened, her knuckles going white.

She knows you. Longer than you've known her in your timeline. You're not leaving her knowing that. So instead, you finish walking the last few steps to get to her, your hand hesitating slightly before resting on her shoulder.

The dam breaks, as she drops her tools, hands closing into fists. "You're not safe here." Her voice cracks as she speaks. "Everyone around me—" She clamps her mouth shut and looks away.

Things start to fall into place. "You lost someone."

She lets out a bitter laugh. "I've lost a lot of someones." You see her blink a few times before she turns to you, shrugging off your hand in the process. "So you best get out of here, toots. I'm no good for you."

"I don't know, I think I've survived you enough times." She shakes her head, turning back to the abandoned chomper.

"You have no idea what you're saying." You sigh, getting down on a knee so your eyes are level with her. She's taken aback by your actions, her eyes reflecting a cautious but curious glint in them.

"I do, actually." A questioning look is the only response you get from her. "I'd explain, but I'll have to ask you to not to think I'm crazy."

Her gaze softens, just a pinch.

"Have you even met me?" Yes, you want to say. I've met you two hundred and sixteen times, and I'll gladly stay here until my knee is sore just so I can explain to you how.

"Not yet," You say instead, you extend your hand. "But I'd like to."

Destined souls or not, you're aware that you're pushing your luck. A smidgen of doubt starts to form in your mind, when she does nothing but stare at your outstretched hand. You can see the conflicting emotions in her eyes. Whoever she lost, it was enough that she doesn't want to keep anyone close to her anymore. A sentiment that you can understand, given that you wanted to stay away from any variation of her after you lost her once. But you don't want to leave her, not like this, not when there's a gnawing feeling in your gut that she's not okay enough to be left alone. So you hold your breath, standing by your decision.

Her eyes flit back to yours, and you hope the determined look in your eye is enough to sway her.

"You're gonna regret this." There's a pleading tone to her words, as if she's begging you to turn away and leave her. Fat chance, really.

A soft, reassuring smile. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

She searches your eyes for any trace of doubt, or deceit, but she will find none.

Her hand reaches out to yours, and you wonder if she feels the same spark of electricity that shoots through you when your hands touch.

"Grab a chair." She says, but inconveniently doesn't let go of your hand. "You down on a knee is too intimate."

You laugh, and for the first time since you've met her, you see her relax, a smile on her face.

"Fair enough."

And she listens. About Ekko seeing the anomaly on one of the leaves of your tree, the three of you breaking into Jayce's lab, heading to the Hex gate, you idiotically reaching out to the anomaly. You show her the faded outline that the anomaly left on you, and she gingerly traces the mark with her finger.

You tell her about your first jump, how your mind struggled with the Other You, as you crawled your way to cover. How you she came and saved you. You don't outright say that you're soulmates, simply because you don't want to scare her off. Not even if she probably already knows. She doesn't say anything when you first mention you two meeting, but you see her figure it out by the time you're telling her about your eighth jump. Her eyes narrow, but she lets you continue. Patiently listening as you explain, part by part, that in every reality, in every timeline, it's always you and her. It will always be you and her.

You're able to coax a laugh out of her when you tell her about your misadventures as academy students, she even teases you for being a stickler for the rules. She argues with you when you tell her that you always beat her in hand to hand combat "I could beat you any day, toots." Denies it when you tell her that she tended to sulk if you didn't give her attention, when she's be uncharacteristically thoughtful.

She holds your hand when you tell her how you lost her, how she sacrificed herself for your safety. Squeezes it when you tell her that the next version of herself is the one that pulls you out of your grief.

You explain the pull you feel when she's around, and how much stronger it feels when it's her. She interrupts you, then. Confirming that she had already known about it for a few years, right after she first saw you in a firefight. There's a blush on her cheeks as she confesses that she'd always tried to not hurt you after, and that she'd randomly seek you out to mess with you from time to time.

Eventually, she tells you how long you and your friends have been gone. What's happened to her since, about the attack at the Piltover Memorial, Vi and Caitlyn coming after her. How she met a little girl named Isha, and the strange little family she had formed with her and Sevika. You don't miss the sad, faraway look in her eyes when she recounts the adventures they had, their own little robot fight club, them making over her hideout. How they made a good situation out of everything, despite the Noxians and enforcers occupying Zaun.

You're surprised when she mentions Vander, and the short stint of happiness her and Vi had when their little family was able to reunite. She chokes up when she tells you how short lived it was, how she had been reckless in allowing Isha to come with them, that she finally understood why Vi told her to stay out of a fight all those years ago.

You hold her close to you when the tears come, and she shakes in your arms.

By the end of it all, you're both lying on her couch, and she's passed out on your chest. The physical and emotional exhaustion from the last few weeks finally catching up to her.

You spend the time processing all the information you learned; about the war, Viktor, Jayce. How there was a lot more weight now to the sacrifice Heimerdinger made for you and Ekko. You're sure he's already rallying people to join the fight, but from what Jinx had told you, Zaun won't fully unite until she's on board, too.

She's tired of it all, but she'll probably relent if you ask her. But that's an issue for tomorrow. Right now, you settle on holding her close.

And if only you hadn't asked her.

If only you had kept your mouth shut, and let her rest.

If only you hadn't put her in danger, again.

Your lungs burn as you run through smoke, not caring if your eyes can barely see anything, or that your legs are screaming for you to stop and take a break. You can't, not when you didn’t try hard enough to stop her, not when you could've asked her to stay instead.

You make it to the Hex Gate, the smell of burnt metal and wiring fills your nose and brings you to a coughing fit. You still shout her name, at the top of your lungs, hoping that she'll hear you. You start to lift debris and stray slabs of concrete. There's only a numbness in your hands as you cut and burn them while digging our rubble. Not a care in the world that there could still be explosive hazards in the area. The only thing on your mind was Jinx.

The desperation starts to build with every passing minute, the pull in your chest is painful, screaming at you to find her. Even as the smoke slowly clears, the momentary reprieve from searching blind not stopping you from your erratic search. You continue to clear the rubble, your hands smearing blood on every piece of debris you touch. This does nothing to bother you, though. You'd paint every inch of this room red before you stop looking for her.

You collapse to your knees, grabbing onto a large piece of rubble for support. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Just when you find your way back, when you finally have her with you. Five years and hundreds of jumps, only for you to lose her again.

You lay your head against the concrete, as the tears start streaming down your face.

Then a cough, the sound of shifting debris and rock hits your ears.

You bolt upright, ears straining to listen. For a few seconds, there's nothing, and you almost thing that you're getting high from the fumes. But you hear a groan, then you're feet are already kicking the ground.

Smaller pieces of rubble start moving around, and you quickly claw away it, clearing everything away until you catch sight of a hand. You've never been happier to see chipped nail polish in your life.

You ignore the ache in your arms as you lift every piece of heavy rock, until Jinx has enough room to grab onto you and you pull her out.

There's a deep gash on her side, a few cuts, and bruises already forming. She starts coughing, but there's no blood. Good. She's breathing, alive.

"You regret meeting me, yet?" She manages a smile, and your heart soars.

"No, not yet, at least." You wipe your eyes with the back of your palms, sniffling.

"Hey, hey, easy." She puts a hand on your chest to stop you from picking her up. "Your hands are bleeding."

"You have a gash on your stomach."

"I heal quick, you don't." She shoots you a warning glare when you try to pick her up again, and you relent.

"I thought I lost you again." The tears well up in your eyes, and her glare softens. She pulls you closer until your foreheads are touching.

"Sorry to disappoint," She starts. "But you're stuck with me forever."

You fail at stifling your laughter. "Sounds like a good deal to me."

She cups your face in her hands, running a thumb across your cheek, and you instinctively lean into her touch.

"Help me up, yeah?"

You oblige. You always do. You always will.

#arcane #arcane netflix #jinx x reader #arcane x reader #arcane jinx #arcane jayce #arcane vi #arcane caitlyn #arcane ekko #jinx #ekko #heimerdinger #Caitlyn #Jayce #Vi

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starsjulia · 4 months ago

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just as you are // leah williamson

leah williamson x neurodivergent!reader

a/n : everyone experiences neurodivergence differently, and this isn’t an accurate representation of all neurodivergent people, this is solely based of my personal experience with autism, though neurodivergence comes in many different forms and not just autism. based of this request!!!

It was late spring, and the air around Dorset had a gentle warmth, fresh with the promise of summer. You and Leah had been seeing each other for a few weeks now, with dates that felt both tender and easy—small glimpses of how good things could be when you didn’t have to hide yourself so much. Even if you hadn’t told Leah everything about you, each date seemed to draw you closer, as if she could sense the parts of you you weren’t quite ready to show.

Today, Leah had planned a surprise. She hadn’t given away much, only mentioning that she’d packed a picnic and that she hoped you didn’t mind “a bit of a trek.” You’d met her just outside her little holiday home that afternoon, where she greeted you with her usual warmth, her eyes lighting up when she saw you.

“Hi sweet, you ready for a little adventure?” she asked, her North London accent curling around her words in a way that made you smile.

“Yeah,” you replied, feeling that familiar mix of excitement and nerves. “Where are we headed?”

“It’s a surprise,” Leah said with a playful glint in her eye. “But I promise it’ll be worth it.”

She handed you a small, neatly packed backpack, giving you a wink as she shouldered her own. You took a deep breath, the sensation of the warm afternoon sun grounding you as you followed her down the winding forest path.

The journey was beautiful but long, winding through tall pines and wildflowers in bloom, their colors bright against the emerald green of the forest floor. Leah kept up an easy conversation as you walked, her voice a comforting presence beside you. She asked questions now and then—gentle ones, never prying too deep, like she understood you’d answer in your own time.

“How come you like the country side so much? Not like in a ew way, I just think it gets a bit boring”

You thought about it, carefully choosing your words. “I’m not to sure, i’ve always preferred somewhere quieter. Somewhere where I could have my own rhythm, I guess. The city is just… too much sometimes.”

Leah nodded, her face softening in understanding. “I kinda get what you mean. It can be a lot, all that noise and chaos. I bought the house to get away sometimes. I do sometimes like being in a place where you can actually hear yourself think,”

You gave a small smile, the warmth in her words easing some of the tension in your chest. It felt good, hearing her talk about needing her own space. It reminded you that maybe your own needs weren’t so strange.

After nearly an hour, Leah led you through a small clearing and out onto a sunlit hill, overlooking a valley where a river sparkled as it wound its way through the forest. The sight took your breath away; the view was so open, so peaceful. Leah spread out a blanket on the grass, giving you a gentle smile as she motioned for you to sit beside her.

As you settled onto the blanket, you felt a surge of gratitude toward her for bringing you here, to this quiet place. It was beautiful—and quiet. So quiet that you felt your shoulders relax as you took in the scene around you.

“Perfect, isn’t it?” Leah murmured, lying back on the blanket, her hands resting behind her head. “Just us and the whole world spread out like this.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, glancing over at her. “It really is.”

You felt a pull toward her in that moment, a soft, warm connection you hadn’t felt with anyone before. Being with Leah felt like breathing fresh air after being cooped up for too long. And yet, even with her kindness, you still couldn’t shake the lingering worry that had been building over the past few weeks—the part of you that kept wondering what would happen if Leah knew the truth. It was a fear that had become familiar, one you’d felt in other relationships before: the worry that maybe you’d be “too much” once someone really got to know you.

The thought weighed on you as you sat beside her, watching as she unpacked the small picnic she’d prepared. She handed you a sandwich, smiling as she brushed a stray curl from her face.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

You laughed softly, trying to push the worry from your mind. “Yeah, I am… I think. This looks amazing.”

The two of you ate in comfortable silence for a while, Leah occasionally making little comments about the clouds or the wildflowers blooming nearby. As you watched her, you felt a warmth spread through you, a feeling of being seen and accepted just as you were. But then, just as you were starting to relax, Leah turned to you with a thoughtful look in her eyes.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you something,” she said softly, her gaze steady on yours. “I… I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you these past few weeks. Being with you, it feels… easy, you know? Like I don’t have to pretend to be anything I��m not.”

Her words sent a jolt through you, a strange mix of happiness and anxiety swirling in your chest. This was the moment you’d been hoping for, but the thought of her not knowing everything about you made it feel… fragile. Like you were standing on the edge of something precious and terrifying.

“Leah, I…” You took a deep breath, the words catching in your throat. “Before we… before you tell me something more serious, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Leah’s expression softened, her gaze open and patient. “Of course. Whatever it is, I’m here to listen.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding as you tried to find the right words. “I have autism.” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper, but quite blunt. “so sometimes I experience the world differently. Things that seem simple for other people can be… challenging for me. Loud noises, bright lights, weird smells—they can be overwhelming. And i don’t really get social cues properly, and i sometimes says odd things.”

You looked down, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I just… I didn’t want you to be surprised if… if I have days where I struggle. I’d understand if that’s too much for you. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

For a moment, Leah was quiet, and you felt the silence stretch between you, your heart sinking as you braced yourself for her reaction. But then, gently, she reached out, her hand covering yours in a warm, reassuring grip.

“Hey,” she murmured, her voice gentle. “Look at me.”

Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet hers, and to your surprise, you saw nothing but warmth in her eyes.

“I kinda thought so?” she said, her tone soft but steady. “I didn’t know for sure, but… well, you’d mentioned needing time alone sometimes, and I noticed how certain things seemed to make you anxious. But you know what?” She paused, her gaze unwavering. “I like you, just as you are. I like all the little things that make you you, whether they’re easy or not.”

You blinked, her words washing over you like a balm. “You… you do?”

“Of course I do,” Leah replied,as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I mean, loving someone isn’t about expecting them to be stereotypically perfect. It’s about seeing who they are—all of them—and still wanting to be there. And I… I want to be here, with you.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “I know there might be things I don’t understand, there’s probably a lot i’ll get wrong, but I’d rather learn than walk away.”

A warmth bloomed in your chest, a feeling of relief and joy so strong that it left you speechless. For so long, you’d been afraid that no one would be willing to understand the parts of you that were different. But here was Leah, offering acceptance without hesitation, as if loving you was the most natural thing in the world.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “No one’s ever… said anything like that nice to me before.”

Leah’s smile softened as she took your hand in hers, her thumb tracing gentle circles over your skin. “Well, then, I’ll just have to keep saying it, because you deserve to be known, gorgeous,” she murmured, her voice carrying a playful warmth. “You’re incredible, just as you are. And I want to be here, even on the hard days.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and Leah reached up to gently brush it away, her touch so soft it made your heart ache. The two of you sat there in silence, the weight of her words settling over you like a comforting blanket. In that moment, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to hide parts of yourself to be loved.

Taking a deep breath, you gave her hand a small squeeze, feeling a surge of gratitude for this beautiful, open-hearted person beside you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “For… for understanding, it’s more than i could ever ask for.”

Leah gave you a warm smile, her eyes shining with a quiet, steady affection. “Always, love.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, the sun dipping low in the sky as the first stars began to emerge. You leaned your head against her shoulder, feeling her arm come around you in a gentle embrace, and for the first time in a long time, you felt completely at ease—loved and accepted, just as you were.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso imagine #leah williamson imagines #leah williamson x you #leah williamson one shot #leah williamson fluff #angst

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ur-local-wizard · 3 months ago

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Ink & Ivy

When you start a seemingly regular shift at Ink & Ivy, a new bookstore, an old friend's prank backfires.

fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!!! brother's best friend (kinda? like 2 sentences), graduated au, mattheo riddle x fem!reader, i think that's it

w/c: 1k

masterlist

a/n: sorry this took so long to put out! it's just my first fic I'm putting out there so i was getting really finicky

The ding of the front door rings through the book shop. Icy wind blows at your hair, abruptly being cut off as the door shuts behind you. Relishing in the warmth of the fire burning in the corner of Ink & Ivy’s front room, your footsteps sound off the creaky wooden floors.

The place smells like parchment and coffee, and as you walk down the hall to the employee’s break room, you pause as a shelf catches your eye. It looks oddly empty. “Why didn’t Susan restock last night?” You whisper to yourself as you resume your walk to the break room. Susan Bones was a fellow Hufflepuff during your time at Hogwarts, and although you two never talked during school – your brother Theo always dragging you along to participate in some stupid prank – you two became good acquaintances after you applied for this job.

After shedding your winter attire in the break room, you clock in. The hours tick by, and that empty shelf keeps nagging at you. Shooting a glance out the window, you determine that now is a good time to journey to the stockroom. It looks like nobody is going to venture in any time soon, so you might as well do something useful.

The door to the storeroom squeaks as it opens, and you stop in your tracks. A head of curly brown hair was poking through a window. “What the fuck-”

He looks up, and you instantly recognize your brother’s best friend. It’s Mattheo, the boy who would always tease you at school. You haven’t seen him since you graduated three months ago.

“Oh- Well- I-” He stutters, clearly caught off guard.

“Mattheo, you don’t even work here. Get out of the damn window so you can explain yourself.”

You watch as he awkwardly maneuvers himself through the window, dusting himself off as he stands up to his full height. You can’t help but giggle when you see his sour expression.

“What?” He asks, his tone defensive.

“Nothing. You’re just ridiculous. But I’m not surprised; you have been since we met in first year.”

After reading a label on a box and making sure it’s the right one, you pick it up and begin to walk back to the front room of the shop. Surprised, Mattheo scurries after you.

“I wanted to play a little prank,” he explains as the two of you walk down the short hallway. You stop in front of the empty shelf from earlier and set the box down, intent on restocking it. “And I haven’t seen you all summer. Would it be weird to say that I missed you?” He asks sheepishly, making you stop in your tracks, looking over at the man next to you.

Putting the book you were holding back in its box, and you study his expression. He looks embarrassed. Maybe a little nervous, even. “Why?” You ask, ignoring the hope fluttering in your heart.

You’ve had a silly crush on him ever since he bought you an expensive quill you wanted in sixth year. And now that he’s standing in front of you after visiting out of his own free will, saying you’re flustered would be an understatement.

“Your reactions are adorable when I tease you. And that one time when we replaced your wand with a trick one, your reaction was priceless.”

You swat his arm in frustration, retorting, “That wasn’t funny! McGonagall got so upset with me. I was afraid I was going to get detention because she thought I wasn’t taking class seriously.”

He laughs, but his expression seems to soften. “Sorry, princess. Didn’t realize it got you into trouble. But what can I say? I don’t regret it.”

You huff and roll your eyes, but stay quiet. It’s in the past now, no use saying anything. The two of you restock the shelves, and before you know it, the shelf is full again. “I’ll take this box back to the storeroom. You go back to the register, ‘mkay?”

You nod and let him take the box to the back, heading for the register like he said. It’s not long before he’s standing in front of you again, his elbow in the table, hand perched in his palm.

You raise your eyebrow, “What now?”

“Just looking.” He stands back up. “I remember you used to read all the time... What have you been reading lately? Any books you’ve been eyeing?” He asks, looking at you expectantly.

You sigh and tell him what you’ve been reading, along with explaining that your TBR is endless. “I can’t decide on anything,” you complain.

“Well then send it to me. I’ll decide for you.” He pauses before speaking again. “You get commission, right?”

“Uh… yeah. Why?”

“Let me buy you a book.” He’s smiling like an idiot, and it makes you blush a bit.

“You’re kidding.”

“You think I’m kidding? Darling, I’ve had a thing for you since fifth year. I like buying you presents. Hasn’t it been obvious?” His blunt confession makes your jaw drop, cheeks burn, and butterflies break out of the cage you so painstakingly put them in. “And I would say you share the same feelings, if the blush on your cheeks is anything to go by.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you look for something to say, shocked by his bold words. “Why tell me now?” Your voice is quieter than you intended it to be, and his expression softens. He walks around the counter to stand next to you and gently puts a hand on your cheek, making you look up at him. “Theo isn’t here to pound me into a pulp for falling for you anymore,” he explains, chuckling. “And he can’t stop me from doing this." With that, he presses a soft kiss to your lips, holding your face in his hands. The kiss is chaste, nothing too crazy, as if he’s afraid of pressuring you.

As he pulls away, you look at him with wide eyes, watching as he grins at you like a school boy. “So what book do you want me to buy?”

Ty for reading! I hope you liked it <3 Let me know if there's something I need to fix, and if you wanted to be added to the tag list let me know!!

©ur-local-wizard translating, republishing, copying, or claiming my work as yours is not permitted. all my work belongs to me and me only. thank you!

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taesanrot · 10 months ago

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[soothe] taesan x f!reader | 1.9k words established relationship, body worshipper!taesan, office worker!taesan, fluff and mostly smut note. this is kinda new territory for meeee thank u to anon who requested this <333 i had fun writing this and imagining taesan as a little office worker

as a manager at his company, taesan typically had his plate full no matter what day it was. for some reason though, today was exceptionally taxing on him.

fingers typing away mindlessly at an email to his higher up, taesan couldn't help but daydream about ditching in the middle of his shift and driving home with the windows down, letting the wind mess up his hair. he thought about how nice it would be to come home to you.

taesan checked the time; it was only 11:30 in the morning. your work hours were a bit more flexible since you worked from home, you were probably showering and getting yourself ready to log in.

screwing his eyes shut, he shuddered at the way his mind wandered to you under the hot water.

you always turned the water a little too hot before stepping in, letting out a little yelp before fixing the temperature. he imagined the suds running down your shoulders and down the curves and ridges of your body, the thought almost making him throw his head back against his chair.

fuck.

taesan usually tried not to think of you at work, especially you showering or changing. it always got him so worked up and made waiting for the end of his work day even more unbearable.

chewing the inside of his cheek, taesan grabbed his phone and sent you a quick text message, a cute little picture of him at his desk.

you opened it within a minute and sent a picture back. taesan held his breath as he clicked the notification open. smiling softly, he took in the sight of you.

you were perched in your desk chair with your legs crossed, sipping a cup of coffee you probably just brewed in your shared kitchen.

taesan wished you knew what you did to him. while the thought of you drove him crazy and kept him all pent up, it also calmed him down and soothed his nerves like no drug ever could.

locking his phone and looking back at his work, taesan groaned. it was going to be a long afternoon.

[...]

pushing your glasses up your nose, you typed away at your desktop computer, sitting criss crossed in your desk chair. the last rays of the evening sun shone through the window of your and taesan's shared apartment.

yawning, you leaned back and stretched out your arms and shoulders, groaning slightly. your coffee from this morning was now cold, you decided to take a break and reheat the rest of it.

grabbing the mug and walking over to the kitchen, you placed it in the microwave and leant against the counter. as the microwaved beeped and your drink was warmed up, you heard the front door unlock and creak as it was pushed open.

you smiled and pulled your drink out of the microwave, waiting for your boyfriend to walk around the corner.

you heard a loud sigh and the sound of shoes and a bag hitting the ground and before you knew it, taesan appeared in front of you.

hair messy and tie loosened, the boy sighed in relief at the sight of you, the one he was waiting to come home to. he strided across the kitchen and into your arms, exhaling louding as he melted into you.

"i missed you." you blushed at how raspy your boyfriend sounded, the exhaustion evident in his tired voice.

taesan pressed his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and tightening his grip on you even more. your hands came up to rub circles along his spine, encouraged by the sounds of satisfaction that echoed into your skin.

after a minute, you attempted to pull away from him, remembering your coffee sitting on the table. taesan trapped you in his grip, molding himself to your body as if he was trying to bury himself under your skin.

"no" you laughed at his stubborn voice, calmly cooing at him.

"taesan, my coffe-" you were shushed by your clingy boyfriend as he walked the two of you over to the living room couch, keeping his arms wrapped around you the whole time.

"i'll make you some fresh coffee later." and with that, he sat down and pulled you onto his lap, moving your legs so they rested on either side of his.

finally face to face with him again, you smiled at taesan's pouty lips. you brought a hand up to smooth down some of his messy hair, smiling at the way he practically melted into your touch.

his hand came up to intertwine with yours and he pulled it to his lips, placing a wet kiss on the back of your hands.

the loud smack made you giggle and taesan moved to your face, loudly pecking your cheeks and forehead and nose. he even kissed your eyelids, further egging on your laughter.

after he was satisfied with teasing you, taesan sighed and leaned further back against the couch, pulling you with him so your head rested in the crook of his neck.

you sighed in delight as you breathed in the scent of him. practically feeling the exhaustion radiate off of his body, your hands moved to undo his tie and take off his jacket.

taesan remained motionless, smiling at the way you doted on him so sweetly. no matter how hard or long any day at work was, he always felt at peace knowing he'd come back to you.

you who'd take care of him without a second question. you know he'd do the exact same for you, that if you asked him he'd rub out every knot in your body or clean every inch of the apartment for you.

left in his dress pants and shirt, you undid the top two buttons to relieve the pressure around his neck before going back to your previous position. taesan's arms snaked around your waist, hands loosely resting on your hips, and his eyes fluttered shut.

taesan shivered as he felt you breathe against the shell of his ear.

"do you want me to rub your back?" you asked tenderly. taesan pondered the idea for a moment before shaking his head.

"mmm, just wanna lay here with you." you smiled and got up from his lap, pushing his shoulders lightly so he could move to lay down across the couch.

you grabbed a small throw blanket from the ottoman nearby. turning back to walk towards the couch, you laughed at taesan's pouty face, arms outstreched towards you.

"you're like a cat, sani" you giggled before joining him on the couch, draping the blanket over the two of you. taesan wrapped his arms around you. breathing in happily, you listened to the sound of his heart beating as his warmth encased you.

taesan's hand moved up and down your sides, trying to memorize every ridge of your body with his fingertips.

you inhaled slightly as his hand ghosted over your boob, opening your eyes to look at his.

"can i?" taesan asks softly, smiling when he watches you nod mindlessly.

taesan dragged a finger down the valley of your breasts, watching the way chest moves with your shallow breaths. his hand trailed further down the front of your body, twisting the hem of your shirt and waiting for you to move your arms so he can take it off. you moved your body up so he can pull the article off of you, now left in your bra and sweatpants. you laid down on top of him and while taesan loves the sight of your boobs squished against his chest, he needed to be on top of you.

your boyfriend flipped the two of you so he was now hovering over you. he bit his lip at the sight of you, looking up at him with your doe eyes. your tongue came out to lick your lips and taesan almost saw stars.

he brought a hand to massage the skin of your right breast, palming your nipple over the cup of your bra. you closed your eyes and tilted your head back as he lowered his head to kiss the skin between your breasts. taesan's mouth moved up your left boob, teeth grazing the skin as he sucked and licked to his desire.

his mouth was warm against you, making you arch your back and push your chest into him. he responded to his immediately, taking the opportunity to slip a hand under you and unhook your bra.

bra discarded on the floor, taesan cupped your right boob and massaged it slowly, tweaking your nipple slightly. he peppered kisses along your chest, stopping to take your nipple in his mouth. you moaned at the way his tongue swirled around the bud, his hot breath making you shake underneath him.

his hands traveled downward to squeeze your hips, holding you down as you squirmed underneath him. running a hand through his hair, you tugged it slightly before tapping his chin lightly. breathless, your boyfriend looked up at you curiously. he received an answer as you pulled him up to be face to face with you.

taesan could read you like a book, he knew you wanted to kiss him from the way your fingers traced his neck and jaw. bringing a hand to curl around your neck, he let his lips meet yours, melting against them softly. you were more than eager, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into you.

as taesan sucked your bottom lip and stuck his tongue into your mouth, you unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, tugging it slightly. you boyfriend chuckled above you, detached himself from your lips to pull his shirt off completely.

you sighed, finally being able to run your hands down his bare back. one hand moved into his hair to tug and massage his scalp as the other rubbed circles along his shoulders and spine. occasionally, you let your nails lightly scratch against his skin, just the way he liked it.

"that feels so good." taesan's voice rumbled into your skin as he rested his head on your chest, cheek pressed against the pulsing skin under which your heart was beating softly.

reaching back to pull the blanket back over the two of you, taesan snuggled into you, wrapping his arms around your torso and waist and basking under your attention. nothing soothed him the way you did, the feeling of your palms and fingers against his bare skin filling up the cracks of exhaustion and frustration within him.

your hands slowed their movements, and your boyfriend looked up from your chest to see you snuggled into the couch's armrest, eyes shut. the boy smiled at the sight of you, shifting upwards so he could lay his head on the armrest beside yours.

you stirred slightly, and taesan wrapped at arm around you to pull you into his chest. he felt his heart bloom as you sleepily hugged him closer to you.

the apartment was almost completely dark now, only lit up by the dull glow of your computer screen. pressing your head into the crook of his neck, taesan felt like the luckiest man ever, falling asleep to the slow sounds of your breathing.

#han taesan #han dongmin #han taesan x reader #taesan fluff #taesan x reader #taesan smut #taesan #bnd fics #bnd smut #bnd imagines #boynextdoor #taesan imagines #taesan boynextdoor #bnd fluff #bnd x reader #boynextdoor x reader

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piastri-fvx · 2 months ago

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Walking in the wind. Arthur Leclerc.

Pairing: Arthur Leclerc x girlfriend!reader

Genre: angst

Type: smau, irl

Summary: When Arthur's girlfriend follows her dream and goes to college in New York, making Arthur and her have to deal with the distance.

Word Count: 1.285+

Face claim: Sabrina Carpenter & girls from pinterest, as usual, lmao :)

Disclaimer/s: not really any, just angst and i guess seperation anxiety/the fear of growing apart (?) also wanted to mention that my french is not perfect, so please don't come at me if i make any mistakes <333

A/N: wooooo, kinda trying something new with this, hope u enjoy!! <333

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

@arthur_leclerc

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, yourusername, charlotte2304, lorenzotl and 481.847 others

arthur_leclerc pour toujours ma fille ❤️

[translation: forever my girl]

tagged: @yourusername

| view all comments...

yourusername je t'aime!! ❤️ liked by creator [translation: i love you]

-> arthur_leclerc je t'aime, y/n/n ❤️

-> user1 yall, this kinda looks like a breakup...

-> user2 yeahhh, like... WHAT IS HAPPENING??

-> user3 y/n's going to New York for college 😭

-> user4 oh noooo, it's a goodbye post 😣

user5 face card is eating 😍

landonorris who's this DIVA? 🤭 liked by creator

-> user6 FRRRR, she is literally stunning

-> user7 i hope arthur can fight 😣

charles_leclerc ❤️ liked by creator

-> user8 the whole leclerc family is here 😭

alexandrasaintmleux we'll all miss you so so much, y/n!! i love you 💕 liked by creator

-> yourusername i love you, love of my life

-> arthur_leclerc i thought I was the love of your life??

-> user9 period.

-> yourusername @arthur_leclerc you're a solid second place 🥰

-> arthur_leclerc why, ouch. i thought we had something special

-> yourusername jk jk, you'll always be my number one ❤️🙄 liked by creator

-> user10 as she should, lmao

user11 i love how y/n's basically a part of the leclerc family 😭🙏

-> user12 arthur and her are basically married atp 🤭

-> user13 real

-> user14 the cutest family

charlotte2304 wishing you all the best, y/n 💕 liked by creator

-> user15 OMG HI CHARLOTTE

-> user16 frrrr

user17 i'll misss the y/n & arthur content so much

user18 you're the loss of my life 😣💔

-> user19 😭😭😭

Arthur and you stand in the airport opposite of each other, tears glistening in both of your, but also his eyes. You both know.

You didn't want to believe it, but you knew that due to his busy schedule and you being in New York, you wouldn't be seeing each ither for a long time.

"So..." he finally speaks up, his voice gentle and unsteady. He doesn't meet your eyes, instead directing his gaze to the airport floor. "I guess this is goodbye?" He then questions, his voice barely over a whisper, afraid of the answer.

You almost immediately shake your head, protesting, "Don't say that. It's not goodbye. It's just a... see you later."

He opens his mouth to speak but you gently shush him, instead adding, "It's just for two years. After that, I'll be back here in Monaco with you. In our apartment, as if i was never away," a tear rolls down your cheek but you smile, knowing that you have to be strong now.

He slowly nods, his eyes flickering to the terminal that shows the flight times and then to your luggage that is standing next to you.

He tries to smile at your words, knowing that you'll wait for each other, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes, seeming rather sad. His voice is barely over a whisper when he speaks up again. "You'll miss your flight.."

Your try to hum, your heart breaking into a million pieces at the sight of Arthur, the person you love the most, in tears, his eyes sad and his whole deameanor seemingly down.

Despite the amount of noise at the rather busy airport, the world around the two of you seems to fade, leaving only him and you, both with heavy hearts.

He knew you had to leave, you both did.

He takes a deep breath, taking a step forward and tightly wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a tight, kind of desperate embrace.

You simply stayed like that for a moment, his face staying buried in the crook of your neck as he gently rubs your back, trying to comfort you.

He pulls back just enough to cradle your face in his hands, his palms warm against your skin.

"Don't forget me, yeah?" He speaks up, a small smile tugging at his lips, an attempt to cheer you up. "And you better come back to me as soon as you're done with your studies."

"I will," you speak up, a small, soft giggle leaving your lips ad you finally meet his eyes. "I wouldn't dare of forgetting you. I'll text you every day. And we'll call each other."

"Promise?" He asks, a soft smile appearing on his lips as he gently held your chin in his hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

"Pinky promise." You grin, holding up your pink finger as he mirrors your action, locking his pinky with yours.

A sense of relief washed over him at your promise, his shoulders visibly less tense now, the firm yet soft expression on his face softening even more. "Bien.."

[translation: good]

He slowly leans down, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss.

The kiss was so bittersweet; the feeling of his soft lips on yours so familiar, despite this being the last time you two would have a moment like this for a while.

Arthur was kissing you like he was afraid that the moment his lips left yours, you would dissapear. He was holding you tight against his chest, as if afraid that he would never touch you again.

The kiss wasn't hurried at all. It was slow, chaste, tender and gentle. It was a goodbye kiss, a "i'll miss you" kiss, a "please don't forget about me" kiss.

The moment your lips eventually parted, Arthur rested his forehead against yours, his eyes remaining closed, as if he wasn't quite ready to look at you yet.

You just wanted to stay in this moment as long as possible.

He let out a sigh, reluctantly opening his eyes to meet, taking a step back, his hands now holding yours.

"I really gotta go now," you quietly spoke, knowing there was no way around this.

He nods, finally letting go of your hands and looking at you one more time. "Be safe. I'll wait for you." He said, his voice soft, yet sure.

With that, you smile, turning around and finally dissapearing into the criwd to go board your flight.

Arthur stays where he is, waiting until he can't see you anymore.

@yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, charlotte2304, lorenzotl, landonorris and 1.947.027 others

yourusername happy anniversary to the love of my life ❤️

tagged: @arthur_leclerc

| view all comments...

arthur_leclerc happy anniversary, l'amour de ma vie ❤️ liked by creator

[translation: the love of my life]

-> user1 they're so 😍😍😍

landonorris wowwwww, keep it PG13, please liked by creator

-> yourusername shush, you're single 🥰

-> user2 i love how lando and y/n act like siblings when they're together

-> user3 she ate him up 💀

-> user4 @yourusername preach, girly

user5 y/n in her aesthetic era 😍

user6 favorite wag 💕

-> yourusername my favorite wag is ollie 😝

-> olliebearman no.

-> yourusername YES.

-> olliebearman i am NOT a wag.

-> yourusername yes you are. you have kimi 😌

-> olliebearman he has a girlfriend???

-> yourusername i know, she's stunning 😍

-> babickovaeli tyyyy!! you're literally drop dead gorgeous 🫶🫶🫶 liked by creator

-> yourusername AHHHHH OMG HIIII

-> babickovaeli heyyyy!!!! liked by creator

-> user7 damn 💀

user8 ollie and y/n bickering like children is so funny to me 😭

alexandrasaintmleux so happy for you both 💕 liked by creator

-> yourusername how's my baby???

-> arthur_leclerc me?

-> yourusername no, silly 😌🙄 i'm talking about Leo.

-> charles_leclerc leo's good!! he misses his aunt though liked by creator

-> user9 poor arthur 😭

-> user10 i don't even blame her, leo's adorable

user11 "thank you for the couple content, y/n" we all chant in unison

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

A/N: actually had no motivation for a moment because i had already written half of this and tumblr deleted it, but yeahhh... 🥰 hope u enjoyed!! reblogs, likes and follows are greatly appreciated <333

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #social media au #angst #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc x female reader #arthur leclerc x fem!reader #f1 smau #f1 angst #f1 fanfic #arthur leclerc fanfic #arthur leclerc fic #arthur leclerc angst #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc blurb #arthur leclerc oneshot

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burrowlvrr · 2 months ago

Text

— NOT LONG AGO, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Joe and Y/N can't believe how far they've come. From taking a pregnancy test in a dorm room, to washing dishes while the babies watch a movie.

NOTE: I got a MacBook and forgot how to act, writing on this thing is so much fun Lord help me. I thought this was kinda cute, shows a lil different side of our couple but its low-key the shortest thing I've written so far, unfortunately :( but enjoy and ignore any errors! <3

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

The house was unusually quiet, a rare reprieve in the Burrow household. The twins, Hudson and Elijah, were snuggled up on the couch under a thick blanket, captivated by the colorful characters on the TV screen. Their little giggles and whispers occasionally broke the stillness. Outside, the cold December wind howled, but the warmth of their Cincinnati home kept the chill at bay.

Y/N stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing the last of the dinner plates. The glow from the under-cabinet lights cast a soft radiance over her face, and she hummed a tune under her breath, content in the moment.

Joe appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. His gaze lingered on her, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey,” he called softly. “Why don’t you let me handle these? Go hang out with the boys for a bit.” He nodded toward the couch where their sons were quietly enjoying the movie.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, her lips curving into a smile. “Y'know how this works, Burrow. I wash, you rinse.” She handed him a freshly cleaned plate, their fingers brushing briefly.

Joe chuckled, stepping forward to take his place beside her at the sink. “Fair enough. I just hate seein' you doing all the work when you’ve been chasing after them all day.”

“I like this part,” she replied softly, dipping her hands back into the soapy water. “It’s peaceful. Plus, we’re a team, remember?”

Their routine continued, the rhythmic sounds of dishes clinking and water running filling the air. The moment felt perfect in its simplicity.

“Remember when we found out?” Joe started, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia. Y/N looked at him briefly, shaking her head as she let out a soft giggle.

“How could I forget? You ran nearly three miles across campus to get to my dorm, Joe.” She replied, and he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before asking, "How do you think I got the Heisman?"

★

Back in 2019, Joe and Y/N were basically still kids. Seniors in college, but still kids. Y/N had finals coming up for her Bachelor's degree, and word around campus was that Joe would be nominated for this year's Heisman. They were both rather successful in their academics and sports--but this, no level of success could prepare a college student for a positive pregnancy test.

She sat on the floor of her dorm room, her back pressed against the bed-frame, knees pulled to her chest. Her breathing was shallow and erratic, her hands trembling as she clutched her phone. The pregnancy tests were on the bathroom counter, both of them untouched—her mind racing in panic, holding her back from using the tests alone.

When Joe picked up, his voice was steady but laced with concern. “Y/N? Hey, babe. What's up?”

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob. Her breathing quickened, and she could feel her chest tightening.

“Y/N,” Joe said, his voice firmer now. “Breathe, okay? I’m coming. I’ll be there in ten.”

The line disconnected before she could respond, and she stared at the phone in her trembling hands, her tears falling freely.

Meanwhile, Joe was already running. He bolted out of the locker room, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his cleats barely tied. The cold air stung his face as he sprinted across campus from the football field to the girls’ dorms. Students turned to watch as he sped past, but he didn’t care.

By the time he reached her door, he was panting, his chest heaving from the exertion. He pushed it open without hesitation and dropped his duffel bag to the floor. The sight of Y/N, curled up and trembling, hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Y/N,” he breathed, moving toward her. She stood shakily, meeting him halfway, and threw her arms around his neck. Her sobs were muffled against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Hey, hey,” Joe murmured, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her tear-streaked face breaking his heart. "I think I—I'm pregnant." She choked out, a hand going to her mouth to try and cover the hiccups.

"I'm too scared to touch them, Joe." She sobbed, and he nodded, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "It's alright, Y/N. I'm here now."

They stood there for a moment before Joe left a kiss on her tanned forehead, brushing a stray curl away from her face and tilting her chin upward. "I'll stand right beside you. I'll even hold your hand if you want me to."

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes, "Now's not the time to be humorous, Burrow." She roughly wiped her tears away before making her way to the bathroom, turning around with a waiting expression—hoping Joe was on her heels, which he was.

She took both tests while Joe stood a few inches away, looking away out of respect but still turning around to check on her every few moments. Y/N quickly washed her hands, taking the tests and grabbing Joe's hand, leading him to her bed. They both sat on the edge, the two plastic tests lying in between them. Face down.

At least six minutes had passed now, and Joe couldn't stop his leg from bouncing. Y/N stared at them as if they might explode, her hands trembling slightly.

"You should check." Joe said, breaking the silence, his voice low and steady. Y/N whipped her head in his direction, "Me? You check it!"

Joe shook his head by then decided against arguing. He sighed, leaning over, and then hesitating for a moment. His fingers hovering over the tests, "Okay, but...don't we kinda already know?"

"Just look, Joe." She snapped, her voice higher-pitched than usual. She squeezed her eyes shut out of fear, as Joe flipped the tests over and freezes. His jaw tightened, but he doesn't speak right away.

"Joe," Y/N whispers, her heart pounding in her chest. "What does it say?"

"Positive." he says, barely above a whisper.

The words hit her like a freight train. She slumps back into the couch, her head in her hands. "Oh my God," she mutters, her voice cracking. "This can’t be happening. I can’t—"

"Y/N," Joe starts, but she cuts him off, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush.

"My mama is going to kill me," she says, sitting up straight now, her hands flying. "You don’t understand, Joe. And my daddy's always lecturing me about ‘staying focused’ and ‘not ruining my future.’ This is exactly what he meant! They’re never going to forgive me for this!"

Joe stands, walking over to her and crouching down. "Hey," he says softly, placing a hand on her knee, but she jerks away, jumping to her feet.

"And what about graduation?" she continues, pacing the room now. "Three months, Joe! We graduate in three months! Do you have any idea how much a baby costs? Diapers, formula, doctor visits… How are we supposed to afford that?"

Joe stays quiet, letting her vent. She turns to him suddenly, her eyes wide. "You don’t even have a job lined up yet! And me? I don’t know if my internship is going to turn into anything. We have nothing, Joe. Nothing!"

"Y/N," he says firmly, standing up.

She doesn’t stop. "I’m not ready for this! We’re not ready for this! I can’t—"

"Y/N!" he says louder, his voice cutting through her panic. She freezes, her chest heaving.

He takes a step closer, his voice calmer now. "Listen to me. I know this wasn’t the plan, okay? I get it. But I am going pro. You know I’ve been working toward the draft, and my agent is confident I’ll get picked. I’m gonna make it, Y/N. And when I do, we’ll be okay."

She stares at him, shaking her head. "Joe, the draft isn’t guaranteed. What if something goes wrong? What if you don’t get picked? What if—"

"I will," he interrupts, his tone steady. "I will. I’m not just doing this for me anymore—I’m doing it for you. For us. For this baby."

Her bottom lip quivers, but she doesn’t say anything. Joe steps closer, taking her hands in his. "I know you’re scared. Hell, I’m scared too. But we’ve got each other, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure you and this baby are taken care of. I promise you that."

Tears spill over her cheeks as she looks at him. "You’re so sure about everything, but I’m not. My parents are going to see this as the end of my life, Joe. The end of everything I’ve worked for."

He nods, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Then we’ll prove them wrong. We’ll show them that this isn’t the end—it’s just a new beginning. You’re still going to graduate, Y/N. You’re still going to chase your dreams. And we’ll figure the rest out together."

She exhales shakily, leaning into him as he wraps his arms around her. "I just… I don’t know how we’re going to do this."

"One step at a time," he says, his voice firm but gentle. "We’ll start by telling our parents. Together."

She pulls back, giving him a doubtful look. "That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to hear my dad’s lecture about how I’ve ‘thrown my life away.’"

Joe chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, but I’ll be right there with you. And if he tries to kill me, I’ll just tell him I’m going pro—maybe that’ll distract him."

Despite herself, Y/N laughs through her tears. "You’re ridiculous."

"Maybe," he says, grinning. "But I love you. And I love this baby, even if it’s the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me."

She looks at him, her expression softening. "I love you too."

He pulls her back into his arms, holding her tightly. For the first time all night, she lets herself believe him.

★

Back in their kitchen, the married couple laughs in unison as they recalled the dinner where they told both of their parents. "Oh my gosh! Daddy almost jumped across that table at you!"

"I was scared!" Joe laughed loudly, covering his mouth when he saw Hudson's head pop up over the top of the couch. "Your dad is very intimidating."

"Well, you survived." Y/N insisted, "And we both know I thought my life was over." Joe playfully frowned, "You were pacing so much before that dinner, babe. I thought you were gonna burn a hole in the carpet."

She flicks a bit of water at him, rolling her eyes. "Well, excuse me for being a little freaked out. It wasn’t exactly a normal Tuesday, you know? We were graduating in three months, broke as hell, and had no idea what we were doing."

Joe nods, his smile softening. "I remember how scared you were about telling your parents. But you know what I remember more?"

"What?" she asks, handing him a clean glass.

"How you still managed to push through all that fear and finish your degree on time. You didn’t let anything stop you, not even two babies kicking your ribs during finals."

Y/N shakes her head, laughing. "Don’t act like you weren’t freaking out too. You spent half the night staring at that pregnancy test like it might change if you looked hard enough."

Joe laughs, drying the glass. "Okay, fair. I was terrified. But I knew we’d figure it out. And look at us now."

Y/N glances around the kitchen, her eyes lingering on the family photos on the fridge—the twins’ school pictures, a shot of the four of them at the beach, and a drawing labeled Mama, Daddy, Hudson, and Elijah.

"Yeah," she says softly, her voice thick with emotion. "We’ve built a pretty amazing life, haven’t we?"

Joe sets the towel down and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "We have. And those two little terrors in the living room? They’re the best thing that ever happened to us."

Y/N leans into him, resting her head against his chest. "I still can’t believe we were worried about not being ready. I mean, we weren’t—but we figured it out."

Joe kisses the top of her head, his voice low and full of love. "That’s because we’re a team, Y/N. Always have been."

Before she can respond, a loud crash comes from the living room, followed by giggles and a triumphant "Wasn't me!"

Y/N groans, pulling back. "Moment's over."

Joe laughs, grabbing a dish towel. "I’ll check on the damage. You finish up here."

As he heads toward the living room, Y/N watches him go, her heart swelling with gratitude. She turns back to the sink, rinsing the last plate as the sound of Joe’s playful scolding echoes from the other room.

She smiles to herself, thinking back to that night all those years ago. It had been terrifying and uncertain, but it led to this—a life full of love, laughter, and a chaos she wouldn’t trade for the world.

#joe burrow #joe burrow angst #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x wife!reader #joe burrow x black reader #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow bengals #dad!joe burrow #nfl imagine

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piastrisun · 2 months ago

Text

warming up to love.

pairings: franco colapinto + fem reader.

summary: beneath the falling snow, the warmth of a shared moment transforms a casual connection into something unforgettable.

genre: fluff.⠀word count: 3.6k.⠀ warning: none.

notes: i love writing long stuff about franco cause we know he’s a very talkative guy and would pull a before sunrise any day. this kinda made me wanna fall in love.

“oh, the weather outside is frightful / but the fire is so delightful / and since we've no place to go / let it snow.”

the christmas party hums with a mellow energy as the night winds down. it’s a familiar scene—mutual friends scattered across the house, the remnants of shared laughter echoing softly. you hadn’t planned to come this year; after all, these gatherings had long been a minefield of awkward encounters and unspoken wounds. your ex, the one who shattered your heart last christmas, always seemed to be at these parties, and the thought of facing him again was enough to make you steer clear.

but tonight is different. encouraged by a friend who insisted it would be ‘good for you,’ you found yourself here, hovering on the edges, nursing a glass of mulled wine by the fireplace. franco is here, too—franco, who has always been little more than a polite nod or a quick ‘hi.’ the two of you aren’t close, not even friends, really. yet as the evening stretches on, you find his presence more noticeable than usual, his laughter drawing glances from across the room.

most of the guests have either slipped away to spare rooms or are scattered in half-asleep clusters, the laughter and music now a faint echo in the house. you sit near the fireplace, nursing a mug of mulled wine, its spicy warmth a small comfort against the chill outside. the flickering flames cast golden light over the room, and you sink into the soft cushions of the couch, grateful for the moment of solitude.

until franco joins you.

you hear him before you see him, the faint sound of his footsteps against the hardwood floor. all evening, he’s been the centre of attention—his jokes landing perfectly, his energy magnetic, his laughter infectious. but now, as he lowers himself onto the couch beside you, he’s different. his movements are slower, deliberate, as though he’s shedding the playful bravado for something more genuine. he leans back, draping one arm casually over the backrest, close enough for you to feel his presence without it pressing on you.

“you’ve been sitting here for a while,” he says, his voice quieter than you expect, his accent rolling over the words with a natural charm. “thinking deep holiday thoughts?”

you glance at him, arching a brow, already on guard. “oh, you know, debating whether santa’s elves have a decent union.”

a grin spreads across his face, quick and easy. “they don’t,” he replies, leaning slightly toward you, his dark eyes sparkling in the firelight. “you can see it in their eyes—overworked, underpaid, stuck making toys for kids who’ll forget about them in five minutes.”

the corners of your mouth lift before you can stop yourself, the response catching you off guard. “exactly,” you say, meeting his gaze for a beat longer than you intended. “and don’t even get me started on rudolph. classic case of workplace exploitation.”

his laugh is rich, low, and unrestrained, and for a moment, it drowns out the crackle of the fire. “you’re good,” he says, his grin lingering. “sharp. i like that.”

you shrug, trying to deflect the sudden focus on you. “it’s just common sense. someone has to advocate for the underappreciated holiday workforce.”

his grin widens, but there’s a shift in his expression—something more curious, more intent. “so, do you always deflect with humour,” he asks, tilting his head slightly, “or is it just my lucky night?”

your lips part slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected turn in the conversation. “and do you always psychoanalyse women at christmas parties?” you shoot back, the edge in your tone softened by the playful smile tugging at your lips.

“only the ones who seem like they have really good stories to tell,” he replies smoothly, his voice dipping lower.

you roll your eyes, though you feel the laugh bubbling up despite yourself. “you’re persistent, i’ll give you that.”

“i’m argentinian,” he says with a light shrug, as though that explains everything. “it’s genetic.”

the absurdity of the statement makes you laugh, this time unrestrained and genuine. you shift in your seat, tucking your legs beneath you as you hold your mug close, needing the warmth against your palms. he adjusts as well, leaning forward now, resting his elbows on his knees. his gaze is steady, direct, and disarmingly sincere.

“you’re good at this, you know,” he says, his tone softer now, almost conversational.

“at what?” you ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

“deflecting,” he says simply, his eyes searching yours. “you tell a joke, flash a smile, and everyone forgets to ask the real questions.”

you shift uncomfortably, your grip tightening around the mug. “maybe i just don’t like questions,” you say, the words coming out more defensive than you intended.

“or maybe you don’t like answers,” he counters, his voice steady but without judgment.

the weight of his words settles over you, and you find yourself looking away, your gaze fixed on the fire. the orange glow feels safer than the intensity in his eyes.

“you’ve been hurt before,” he says, breaking the silence.

“haven’t we all?” you reply quickly, your tone sharper now, a reflex to protect yourself.

“sure,” he agrees, his voice calm, unbothered by your resistance. “but not everyone builds walls like you do.”

your shoulders tense, and you draw back slightly, the heat of the fire no longer comforting. “you don’t know me well enough to say that,” you reply, your voice quieter now, but firm.

“not yet,” he says, the gentleness in his tone catching you off guard. “but i’d like to.”

the vulnerability in his voice chips away at your defences, and for a moment, you exhale, leaning back into the couch. you’re silent, but the tension in your posture eases.

“it’s not that simple,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “people think you can just… open up and everything will be fine. but when you’ve given your heart to someone who didn’t want it, it’s hard to trust anyone with it again.”

his dark eyes don’t waver, his gaze steady but soft, and he nods slowly. “i get that,” he says. “but maybe the trick isn’t trusting someone else first. maybe it’s trusting yourself—that you’ll survive it if things don’t go the way you hope.”

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

the flickering firelight dances across his face, softening his features, and his expression is open, patient, unhurried.

“you’re different than i thought you’d be,” he says after a long pause, his voice dropping lower.

“what did you think i’d be like?” you ask, curious despite yourself.

“i don’t know,” he says, his lips curving into a faint smile. “polished, untouchable, the kind of person who always has the upper hand.”

“and now?” you press, leaning in slightly, the space between you shrinking.

“still intimidating,” he admits, his smile widening just enough to make your heart skip. “but in a good way.”

for the first time, you let the moment linger, the tension between you shifting into something unspoken but undeniable.

the fire casts a warm glow over the room, its crackling filling the quiet pauses between words. you laugh, shaking your head, the sound light but genuine. a comfortable silence stretches between you and franco, and in that quiet, you feel it—a subtle but undeniable pull. it’s unspoken, yet it lingers, drawing you closer to him in a way that feels both surprising and inevitable.

“you’re not what i expected, either,” you say, your tone casual, though the words carry weight.

franco leans forward slightly, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “oh? what did you expect?”

your lips curl into a teasing smile. “someone who tries too hard to be funny. but you’re just… effortlessly annoying.”

his laughter bursts out, rich and warm, and he clutches his chest dramatically. “effortlessly annoying? that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

you shake your head, your smile widening despite yourself. you can feel your guard slipping, piece by piece, the edges softening with every laugh, every shared glance.

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

as the night drifts on, the conversation flows like an easy current, touching on favourite movies, childhood christmas memories, and absurd holiday traditions. you trade stories that are ridiculous and endearing, the kind that make your sides ache from laughter. each word exchanged deepens the connection between you, weaving a thread of familiarity where there was none before.

he leans back, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “you know, this has to be the best christmas conversation i’ve ever had. no offence to santa and the elves.”

you raise your brow, feigning seriousness. “i’ll take it as a compliment. i don’t usually do this, you know.”

he tilts his head, curiosity dancing in his expression. “what? talk to effortlessly annoying guys?”

“no,” you reply with a soft laugh. “sit here, opening up to someone i just met. it’s… different.”

the teasing fades from his face as he leans in slightly, his voice dropping to something quieter, more intent. “different good or different bad?”

you meet his gaze, your heart beating a little faster at the intensity in his eyes. “good,” you say softly. “definitely good.”

the fire crackles softly in the background, the rhythmic pops and hisses filling the spaces between breaths. your laughter, which had moments ago echoed brightly, now fades into something quieter, something deeper. the silence between you isn’t awkward—it’s laced with a gentle understanding that neither of you has to name. you feel it—a warmth spreading through you, unfamiliar yet comforting, like an old song you’ve almost forgotten but still know by heart. it’s a feeling you haven’t let yourself embrace in years.

franco shifts slightly beside you, leaning forward as if to close the distance without intruding. his voice cuts through the quiet, warm and deliberate. “for the record,” he says, his lips curving into a faint, teasing smile, “you’re pretty good at this too.”

you glance at him, your brow lifting in subtle curiosity. “at what?”

his eyes linger on yours, the firelight flickering in their depths. he doesn’t hesitate, his tone softer now, almost confessional. “making me want to stay up all night talking to you.”

the words land heavier than you expect, and for a moment, your heart stumbles, a traitorous skip in its rhythm. you’re certain he notices, but for once, you don’t try to hide it.

your grip loosens slightly on your glass of wine, and you exhale, caught between disbelief and something dangerously close to hope. the vulnerability in his words disarms you, but it’s the sincerity in his gaze that keeps you still, like he’s waiting, patiently, to see if you’ll let him stay.

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

now you stand near the balcony door, the hum of the christmas party a soft murmur inside. outside, the chill air brushes your skin, the twinkling lights from the decorations contrasting with the warmth of the fire crackling in the corner. your glass of wine rests in your hand, swirling gently, the dark liquid catching the firelight. you find yourself momentarily lost in the way the flames dance, tracing their movement, letting the quiet settle over you.

franco is standing beside you, so close now that his knee almost brushes against yours, but neither of you says anything. it's the first time tonight that the two of you have actually been alone, outside the usual nods and polite greetings you’ve exchanged over the years.

after a beat, he breaks the silence, his voice low but steady, like he’s testing the air between you.

“you know,” he begins, glancing toward you but keeping his gaze just slightly above yours, “i used to think love was supposed to be this big, dramatic thing. like fireworks and grand gestures.”

you raise an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth curling into a smirk as you shift your weight, the wine glass still twirling in your hand. “let me guess—movies and cheesy romance novels ruined you?”

franco laughs, the sound soft but amused, and you can hear the humour in his voice when he responds. “hey, i’m a romantic. sue me.”

you chuckle, the ease of his words making you relax, but there’s something in his tone that lingers. the idea of love as a grand, sweeping event feels familiar, even if it's been a long time since you've believed in it. the pause between the two of you stretches a little longer, the silence pulling at the edges of your thoughts, and you finally turn to him, looking at him fully for the first time tonight.

“and now?” you ask quietly, your voice catching the reflection of the fire in his eyes. “what do you think it’s supposed to be?”

he looks at you, really looks at you this time, and there's something about the way he shifts, the way he leans slightly forward, that makes his words hit you harder than you expect. his eyes are steady, but his voice is softer now, more introspective.

“i think it’s quieter,” he says, his tone almost reverent, like he's sharing a truth he's only just realised. “more like… finding someone who makes you feel like you’re home, no matter where you are.”

the words settle heavily in the space between you. you blink, your breath momentarily stuck in your chest. there's something in his expression, something real and raw, and it pulls you in. you turn your body slightly towards him, the firelight flickering off his face, and you can feel the weight of his honesty pressing into your own guarded heart.

“that’s nice," you say, almost whispering, but a knot tightens in your throat. you shift your gaze, struggling to maintain the usual lightness, but it’s hard now. "but what if you’ve been hurt? what if 'home' feels more like a risk than a refuge?”

franco doesn’t hesitate. his elbows drop to his knees, the movement slow and deliberate. he leans in just slightly, his shoulders squared toward you, and the teasing edge that usually follows him is gone, replaced by something quieter, more vulnerable.

“then maybe you stop looking for a perfect home,” he responds, voice steady, each word measured. “maybe you find someone who’s willing to build it with you, one piece at a time. even if it’s messy.”

the simplicity of his answer leaves you breathless for a second. you swallow, feeling something shift within you, like a door cracking open just a little wider. his words hang in the air, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel the weight of them settle into your chest. it’s a thought you’ve buried for a long time, and you feel a flicker of warmth in the cold air around you.

“you make it sound so simple,” you say, a soft laugh escaping you, though your voice is quieter now, more fragile.

his lips twitch into a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes right away. he glances at you, his gaze lingering before he answers. “it’s not. but i think the right person makes it worth the mess.”

you exhale, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly, though his words have left something unspoken between you. the weight of the conversation feels too heavy to hold onto for much longer, so you try to shift the mood. you take a deep breath and let the faintest hint of a smile curve your lips.

“okay, mr. romantic,” you tease, your voice a little lighter now. “what’s your other grand passion? what keeps you up at night?”

franco grins, the teasing spark returning to his eyes. “besides annoy people by fireplaces?”

you laugh, shaking your head at him, but there’s something different in the way you look at him now, something softer in your gaze. you catch the slight change in his expression, the way his eyes soften, even if only for a fraction of a second, as he watches you.

“i like cooking, actually,” he says, a genuine warmth to his voice. he leans back slightly, the tension leaving his shoulders as he talks. “there’s something about making a meal for someone—putting care into every detail, knowing it’s going to bring them joy.”

you raise an eyebrow, amusement creeping back into your features, but there’s a spark of curiosity now, too. “cooking, huh? sounds like an elaborate way to flirt.”

franco’s grin widens, and you notice the way his eyes twinkle with mischief. “absolutely. works every time.”

you lean back, finally allowing a full smile to spread across your face. it feels natural, comfortable, the awkward tension of the night slipping away with the shared laughter, but something lingers—a connection that wasn’t there before. the warmth of the fire and the quiet rhythm of your conversation are the only things that matter now.

you lean back, your body sinking slightly into the chair, the chill of the balcony air brushing against your skin. the soft hum of the christmas party drifts in from the room behind you, but here, the cold night air feels refreshing, clearing the noise in your head. your smile lingers, and you can’t help but feel a change in the air. the distance between you and franco now feels different—closer, more intimate.

“i like that,” you say, your voice calm but thoughtful. “the way you think about it, i mean. cooking for someone. it’s... intimate.”

franco shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his gaze focused on you. “what about you?” he asks, his voice soft, genuinely curious. “what’s the thing that makes your heart beat a little faster?”

you hesitate for a moment, the chill in the air suddenly making you feel a little warmer under his gaze. his openness makes you feel safe enough to share, and without thinking, the words tumble out of you.

“i write,” you say, your voice quiet, almost wistful. “or i used to, before life got in the way. it’s like... the only time i’ve ever felt completely free.”

his expression softens, his gaze gentle as he watches you, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to fade. he looks like he understands the weight of your words. "why’d you stop?” he asks, his voice low, quiet with concern.

you shrug, avoiding his gaze, not wanting to face the vulnerability in your own eyes. “fear, maybe,” you reply, the words hanging heavily between you. “that i wasn’t good enough. that it wasn’t practical.”

“fear’s a bad reason to stop doing something you love,”he responds, his tone firm but gentle, almost as though he’s speaking to himself as much as to you.

the silence lingers in the space between you, and the cool night air feels heavier, somehow more present. you feel the weight of his words settle in your chest, your breath catching slightly as you meet his gaze. the snow falls gently, glowing faintly in the moonlight. the world feels suspended, quiet, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you in this stillness, and nothing else matters. there’s a sincerity in his eyes that pulls you in deeper, something you can’t quite explain.

“you should writing again,” he adds, his voice softer now, almost like a quiet plea. “you’re too passionate to keep it all locked inside.”

you swallow, the idea of writing again making something stir in your chest. but you don’t let it show, instead trying to keep the mood light. “and you should stop psychoanalysing strangers at christmas parties,” you tease, a small smile tugging at your lips.

he grins, a playful glint in his eyes, but there’s a shift. his gaze softens, and the playful atmosphere between you both changes. “maybe i’ll make it my new year’s resolution,” he says with a teasing tone, but there’s something deeper in his voice now. “right after ‘kiss beautiful smart women by fireplaces.’”

you laugh, a warm, genuine sound that seems to break the tension between you. but when your eyes meet again, the air is different. the laughter fades, replaced by a quiet understanding that neither of you can ignore. there’s a pull, something magnetic. his smile fades into something deeper, and you feel it too—a tension you haven’t felt in years.

“can i?” his voice is soft, his eyes searching yours, and you feel a warmth spreading through you that makes your heart race.

you nod, your throat tight, unable to say anything. but your silence speaks volumes, and it’s enough. he gives you every opportunity to pull away, but you don’t. you stay, rooted to the spot, as his lips hover just inches from yours, your heart pounding in your chest as he inches closer.

the kiss comes softly at first, tentative, almost as though he’s testing the waters, unsure of the fragility of the moment. but then, something shifts. the warmth between you builds, and the kiss deepens, both of you leaning into it, the connection effortless. it’s like you’ve both been waiting for this, and now that it’s here, it feels as though nothing else matters—just the two of you, wrapped in the glow of the lights and the quiet of the night. you both lean into it, your bodies moving as if they’ve known how to do this all along. it feels natural, easy, like the conversation you’ve had all night.

when you finally pull back, you’re both breathless, your cheeks flushed with warmth. franco’s smile is softer now, more intimate, and it makes your heart flutter.

“you’re a hard one to read, you know that?” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice, though his eyes are still searching yours.

you shake your head, the smile lingering on your lips. “and you’re impossible to ignore.”

the soft crackle of the fire still echoes from the living room, and the snow falls gently on your coat, glowing faintly in the moonlight. but here, on the balcony, it’s just the two of you. for the first time in a year, you feel something stir within you—a piece of yourself that you thought was lost. and in that moment, you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found it again.

#piastrisun: work #piastrisun: one shot #piastrisun: series #f1 x reader #franco colapinto x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 imagine #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto fic #piastrisun: under the mistletoe

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yumeaoka-chan · 4 months ago

Text

For Science!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Reader/ Spider-Punk x Vampire! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Tags: Cursing, blood drinking, blood, lovesick hobie, lovesick reader, cuddling, implied kink(just one mention of it really, it's not even fully there tbh), no physical description of reader, reader is AFAB, (In the Pursuit of Blood reverse au kinda, if you really think about it)

Summary: Your boyfriend has always been curious about your vampiric powers. But there's one question he's been refraining himself from asking.

A/N: Credits for the lovely banners go to @the-shroom-garden !!! Second piece for week 4 of Octobie @the-kr8tor , let's go!!! I'll probably have my third final piece done later this week, idk. I've been on a roll, so there might be a fourth if i can write fast enough��

“You fuckin’ with me, lovie?”

“No, Hobes. I really can turn into a bat. As well as a swarm of them, but that's besides the point.” You can't help the smile that flits across your face as he gestures to you with open arms and grabby hands. A clear indication that he's waiting for you to do just that, turn into a bat. Hobie knows the sparkle in his eyes is giving away just how excited he is to see you turn and he won't lie about how much he's dying to hold you when you do.

Shaking your head, you let out a playful sigh and place a hand on your forehead, as if you're winded. Turning around, you fall back into your boyfriend's awaiting arms, only for a small cloud of black shimmering mist to appear with a poof when he moves to wrap his arms around you. Hobie's eyes widen in shock as the mist subsides, an excited, lopsided grin on his lips as he peers down at you in his hands. A fuzzy bat about the size of his forearm with fur the same color of your hair. He has to reign in the urge to squish your little cheeks when you peer up at him with big red eyes, so cute and utterly adorable. Not at all good for his heart, he supposes. And when your little bat tongue comes out as you yawn, he goes “Fuck it” and squishes your cheeks between his thumb and index finger.

“Look at you… Too cute, darlin’. I'm gonna have a heart attack, swear”, Hobie coos softly as his other hand comes up to pet at your large ears, dopey smile lighting up his features.

You let out an irritated squeak of protest from the smothering of your cheeks and shake your head free from his fingers. With a small chirp, you open your tiny mouth towards his thumb, tiny fangs making his smile falter as he thinks you're going to bite him for a second. Only for your tiny tongue to gently lick the pad of his thumb, tiny bat body wrapping around his wrist. That was the day Hobie thinks his ‘wanting you to bite and drink from him’ obsession started. He was curious, as one naturally is when their girlfriend is a damn vampire. Days and weeks passed after that and he never uttered a word to you about the subject, not exactly knowing how you'd take being asked to feed from him.

You'd always made sure you were fed before being around him so, he never tried to ask. Although the nagging question and want to know how it felt ate at him day and night. Was it a need? No. Was it want? Perhaps. Was it somehow tied to his…longing of you? Hobie wasn't fully prepared to unpack that yet. Besides, what if the reason you never tried to feed from him was because you cared about him deeply and wished no hurt to come to him? That feeding was a necessity for your survival and you didn't want him to feel like you kept him around for just that? He groans as he thinks about those being the possible reasons, scrubbing a hand over his face with exasperation. It was late in the night with you having gone to feed, leaving Hobie alone in the houseboat with his ever pressing thoughts.

He flopped back on his bed and glared up at the ceiling, trying to will away the questions that flitted around his head a mile a minute. He was genuinely intrigued though. Hobie truly wanted nothing more than to find out just how it felt to be bitten by a vampire, about whether it would hurt or pinch just a bit.

“It's not even like that. She loves me. Plus this is just for…research…”, he mumbles to himself as he flings an arm over his eyes. Would you get mad at him and be offended if he asked you, however? You've always indulged in his curiosity when it came to your abilities but, something like this just had to be… personal. Teeth worrying at his bottom lip and tongue fiddling with his lip piercing, Hobie lays there for a few more moments before sighing and sitting up. He wouldn't ask you. At least, not yet. Too caught up in the long list of cons rather than the short list of pros. Just as he reaches for his guitar, a sudden bang against his window rocks the boat. He holds out both arms to steady himself as the houseboat slowly stops rocking, eyes darting towards the window and ears perked for anything that might spell danger.

His senses don't go haywire, which helps ease the anxiousness beneath his skin. Standing up, Hobie opens the window to peer out of it, only for the fuzzy blur that is you to come hitting him in the face, making him yelp in shock. Your fuzzy body drapes over his head before you slowly slide down into his palms that had quickly come up to catch you. Little chirps leave you, sounding weak and tired. Hobie shakes his head before peering down at you with growing concern as he walks back over to the bed and sits down with you in his arms. With a poof of shimmering black mist, you're back in your human form, albeit bruised and bleeding from multiple cuts. Your body sags weakly against his as you look up at your boyfriend with a shaky smile.

“Evening, Hobie.”

“Oh my days, what the absolute fuck happened to you?” Is what he furiously whispers as his hands tenderly cup your cheeks. You nuzzle into the warmth of his touch as he gently wipes the blood dripping from your forehead, eyes shining with concern and heart aching at your battered form. You can smell the scent of his blood beneath his skin, how it rushes through his veins. With a sigh, you bat tired lashes up at him and softly shrug.

“Not all vampires are as lovely as me. That is to say, I got into a fight with some old shithead and won. ‘M hungry though, didn't get to feed…” You mumble as you bury your face against his chest. Hobie scoffs and shakes his head. Of course you'd find a way to make some joke out of the situation. He's rubbed off on you a bit more than he'd liked to. Pursing his lips and watching as you inhaled the scent of him deeply, that nagging question springs into his mind again. After all, you were battered, tired, and hungry. It couldn't hurt to ask now…

“Hey, um, love? Considering that you need blood to heal and everything… W-What if you were to feed on me…?”

“Oh, finally. I was wondering when you were going to ask this question.” That makes his eyebrows raise in shock, mouth dropping open and eyes blinking repeatedly. You give him a knowing smirk and press a sweet kiss to his chin then his lips.

“Trust me, it's a very common question, baby. You wouldn't be the first to ask it. I am curious what your reason behind it is, though.” Hobie lets out a nervous chuckle, a dopey grin on his face as he avoids your gaze. He shrugs and scratches the back of his head, embarrassment coloring his voice and making it crack a bit.

“U-Uh, well… You know, it's for, um, science! Yeah… Science, lovie.” Not entirely a lie, he was much too flustered to come up with any other excuse. A giggle leaves your lips and Hobie's eyes soften as he gazes at you with fondness. Always so weak whenever you laugh for him, the sound like an arrow straight to his heart. He leans down to kiss you tenderly, hands cupping your face once more and thumb caressing your cheek lovingly. When he pulls back, his heart just about aches at the adoration in your pretty eyes, his heart fluttering in his chest. His thumb tenderly grazes along your bottom lip, gently poking at your fang that sticks out.

“Go ahead then, darlin’. Take what you need, mm?” Slowly nodding your head, you lean up to press your lips against his neck, softly gripping the hair at the back of his nape to gently tilt his head to the side. Your other hand rests on his shoulder. One of his hands is splayed across your back while the other rests on the back of your head.

“I'll be gentle, promise”, you mumble quietly against his skin as your fangs gently graze his flesh. He shivers slightly at the sensation and nods his head, heart pounding in his ears as you pepper his neck in kisses. It's then that he feels your fangs sinking into his flesh, like a shard of ice in his veins. The pain is sharp and quick to come, but goes away just as quickly. He can feel the sensation of his blood being sipped out of his body, a sensation that isn't too unpleasant. Warmth pools beneath his skin and he holds you closer against his body as you drink from him. His mind clears and his body feels lighter, like all of his troubles have been swept away by your touch. Giddiness makes a goofy smile appear on his lips as he presses his neck closer to your lips. You hold onto Hobie gently, tilting his head just a bit more as you lap at the delectable nectar that is his blood. There's something different about it, not like a normal human’s life force. You think that it's probably because your boyfriend is no normal human, after all. There's something energizing about it, something that pumps you up and you feel every wound stitching itself close the longer you drink.

Hobie's little hum and hands growing slightly lax in his grip on you makes you back away, tongue lapping over the bite mark to stop the bleeding. Pressing one final kiss to his neck as thanks, you gaze up at his face with slight concern. Hobie's eyes are half-lidded and glazed with contentment, hands wrapping around you and gently pulling you towards his neck again.

“Finish drinkin’, lovie”, he slurs just a bit, voice deep and soft like he'd been drinking. “Want you to get all better.” His words make you smile and you gently lay him down on the bed. You shush his protests with a soft kiss to his lips before tapping his cheek so that he looks up at you.

“I got just what I needed. Thank you, Hobie.” You coo softly as you drape the blankets over his form. Hobie gives you a lopsided smile, his eyes swimming with such a lovestruck shine to them that you can't help but pepper his face in more kisses. He hums softly as you adorn him with your love, grin widening with every kiss.

“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart”, he mumbles as you turn off the lights and press another kiss on his forehead. Sleep is quickly trying to claim him and he's not one to fight it. “Anythin’ for you.”

#octobie #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #octobie'24 #hobie x reader #fanfic #octobie halloween #vampire reader #spider punk #kind of a in the pursuit of blood reverse au if you think about it

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on-a-lucky-tide · 2 months ago

Note

Your ask made me remember the request I was going to send it to you but forgot

hard to pick one to ask out of my drafts (very tempted to ask a PriceGhost omegaverse thought) BUT I decided to go with this cliché ask:

During a mission it snowed in, trapping Price and Nikolai in the safehouse, maybe one of them is experiencing hypothermia and needed to be warm up...in one way or another ( ͡º ꒳ ͡º) you can decide if they go 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 or not!! I'll eat up anything you write either way

love yo stuff, stay hydrated! also manifesting max grains and zero pain for ya gym days 💪

Nik has to save Price from hypothermia, but with their bodies pressed so close, they can't resist each other.

cw: omegaverse, alpha Nik, omega Price, dubious consent in the sense Price is embarrassed by his body's reaction, clearly has some trauma, and it's kinda a stressful situation, and Nik gentles him? But they're into each other. Uncertain/open ending as Price clearly has a lot to work through. Sorry, Gomz, this got a whole 7k away from me...

The snow had come in so quickly. That was the problem with operating this far north; the weather was unpredictable, and when it turned it took no prisoners. Nik had managed to get them to an old house he knew about just on the outskirts of a small town. One of many old estates once owned by a soviet officer, its wine cellar, opulent decorations, and sprawling grounds all that remained of the bloated symbol of hypocrisy. It had long since been abandoned by the locals; too much trouble to repair, and everything of immediate value had been gutted.

While Nik had tried to get one of the old radios they found to work, John had been shovelling snow around the generators in an effort to get close enough to crank them up, but the storm had eventually defeated him and driven him back inside. Not even the legendary Bravo Six could overcome nature when she dug her heels in.

Nik wasn't immediately worried when John stepped into the study where they'd set up a temporary camp, shaking the snow from his carrier vest and coat like a dog clearing its fur. He was walking normally, placing his rifle down against the wall as he shut out the howling wind. Nik had loaded a fire in the hearth and found a heap of animal furs and blankets in one of the bedrooms upstairs to supplement their sleeping bags, so the room was warm enough to shed their coats and hang them to dry. He sat hunched over the desk by the window, one side of the headset pressed to his ear as he adjusted the antennae.

The radio whirred and buzzed, but there was too much interference from the storm and all he could coax out of it was white noise and whining. "There is only static," Nik said. "It is working, but we will only get a communication through when the snow eases. For now, we must wait."

"Thas'good," John said, and then proceeded to knock into a dusty coffee table, his boots clumping heavily as he tried to steady himself.

Nik paused, his hand stilling on the dials. "Captain?" He looked over his shoulder, picking John's shape out in the gloom as his eyes adjusted to the dim light created by the fire. A sharp contrast to the almost radioactive yellow of the dials. He could see John slouched over by the door, his hand against the wall.

"Nik, I fink... Fink 'm..."

Nik abandoned the radio in the next breath and was there to catch John when he staggered, his body falling heavily into Nik's arms. There was no mistaking the signs of hypothermia; John looked confused, his eyes dilated, and when Nik yanked his glove off with his teeth and shoved his hand just on the inside of John's collar where he should be warm and dry, his skin was cold and clammy.

"Nik, 'm... S'somethin'..."

Nik dragged John towards the fire, his boots scuffing on the old wood panel floor as he struggled to find his footing. John's clothes were wet, inside and out; a combination of relentless snow melting through and the sweat from exertion meant that much of his gear's insulation had been rendered useless. Exposed for too long in adverse conditions, even the most expensive military kit couldn't keep up.

Nik peeled John out of them, tearing off velcro and unclipping buckles, swift and efficient. His palms passed over pale skin spotted with freckles, blue in some places where it should be flushed and pink. Despite its pallor, John's body was truly beautiful; strong and athletic, with its defined musculature dusted by downy body hair. If the situation wasn't so desperate, Nik might have lingered to admire every new inch he revealed. He had fantasised about it long enough in private moments, his eyes closed and his hand inside his underwear.

John tried to help. Even dazed and shivering, he knew what was wrong. Knew what the process was. But his clumsy hands only slowed Nik down, numb fingers unable to grip or feel their way over the fastenings. "Let me. I have you," Nik said gently, pushing John's hands away from his belt. He was naked for barely a handful of seconds before Nik was wrapping him in a sleeping bag, laying him down on top of the pile of furs before the fire.

There were warm packs in their Bergens and Nik cracked a few of these as he kicked off his own clothes. Sleeping bags needed actual body heat to work well, and that was something John was lacking; on their own, the heat packs wouldn't work quickly enough. This wasn't how Nik had wanted to hold John for the first time, not what he had dreamed about in those quiet hours before dawn, his hand clutched around his knot, but he didn't have time to lament fate.

Nik shivered as he grabbed the last of the blankets, a little musty, but a maid had clearly laundered them before storing them away for the final time. He draped them over in layers before sliding into the sleeping bag at John's back, large arms encircling his quivering chest and drawing him close, John's freezing body fully ensconced in life-saving warmth.

Only in the stillness that followed did Nik realise his own heart was hammering in his chest, his ears muffled by the pulse of his blood as he allowed himself the momentary grace to feel fear. What if John had stayed out only five minutes longer and collapsed in the snow? What if Nik had searched for him, his body already covered over, and hadn't found him until the morning? Frozen solid, his beautiful eyes empty of life. It could have happened. Fate had been close to stealing John away. Too close.

John's laboured panting evened out and Nik felt his body go slack as he slipped in and out of unconsciousness. It was fine, as long as he was warming, breathing, his body relaxing out of its tense alarm, then Nik could stop his useless panicking.

Nik swallowed, tilting his nose down into John's hair to inhale a lungful of him, seeking comfort from the soft scent of a mature, fertile omega; a guilty pleasure, but one he allowed himself to calm his fear.

He had never been this close to John. Brief embraces, shoulder to shoulder in the back of a Hercules, sharing a drink and whispering conspiratorially in a bar, passing a cigar back and forth in the back of Nik's Black Hawk. So many intimate moments where Nik had fallen slowly, irrevocably in love with this fierce, bad-tempered, feral man with scruffy facial hair and cunningly intelligent blue eyes. But none like this. None where he could taste John's musky, soft smell in the back of his throat, feel the pulse of his heart as if it were beating under his own skin.

Nik knew he was torturing himself. John’s scent curled through him like rich cigar smoke in an expensive bar, winding down his spine until it coiled in his belly and stoked at his instincts. Nik was so very aware of the firm line of John's body in his arms; the plush curves of his full arse, the strong muscles of his thighs and the quiet strength boasted by his broad shoulders. How soft and inviting his body hair was, how kissable the freckles, scars and moles across his skin, like constellations mapping a lifetime over John's body. The thought of spreading John's legs, sinking into his tight heat and making that gravelly voice break with pleasure was driving him insane.

"Blyat..." Nik muttered, the heat coiling in his hips, his cock twitching. Nik flattened his palm against John's chest and felt the strong, valiant thrum of his heart, defiant in the face of the cold. He used it to ground himself. He had to stay calm. For John's sake. While Nik could forgive his body its natural urges around such a handsome omega, he could not forgive any loss of control because of them.

Nik stayed vigilant as the minutes ticked into hours. He tried to remember his training about the different levels of hypothermia and their recovery times, but all his damn mind could latch onto was the scent and feel of the omega in his arms. Nik ached in a way he never had before; a deep, humming discontent at his very core. It was a combination of desire and terror; the cold had nearly snatched John away, and now here he was, so close, so vulnerable, and yet he had never been so off limits. Nik burned with need and it mocked him.

Nik held John a little tighter and closed his eyes. As long as he could feel the slow rise and fall of John's chest, feel the flutter of his breath over his bicep, he knew John was still… here. Alive, and safe. If Nik stayed still, taking each minute as it came, he would not slip. Not allow himself to indulge in his weakness.

Nik must have dozed off to the lullaby of John's heartbeat, his face tucked into his hair, because seemingly in the next moment John was writhing in his arms, his arse bumping back against the hard length of Nik's cock, which had only stiffened further as Nik had grounded himself in the strength of John's body. A poor method of quietening his libido, as it turned out, with John's scent now fogging every breath, melting into his hot skin like settling snow.

Nik loosened his embrace a little and John rolled over, the cold tip of his nose pressing between the mounds of Nik's tits. Nik felt the bristles of John's beard and then the soft vibration of a contented hum, followed by the softest roll of a pleased purr; the noise of a receptive omega looking to mate. It gripped in Nik’s chest like a closing fist and he drew in a stuttering breath. Nik stroked a palm down the curve of John's spine to settle at the small of his back, and John's hips pushed forward, teasing himself against the thick bulge in Nik's boxers. Nik did nothing to stop him, paralysed by the noise he never thought he'd hear John make.

One of those strong legs lifted to drape over Nik's hip, drawing him closer until Nik could feel John's wet slit dampening the cotton over his cock. John was reacting favourably to his scent, judging him worthy as he flexed against his strength, instinctually reaching for him. Nik's entire body ached with desire and sordid lust, his teeth on edge, as the man he yearned for offered himself up in a poisoned chalice. To take advantage now would be beyond redemption.

"John?" Nik croaked.

John's lashes fluttered against Nik's skin and he pulled back a little, a stitch between his brows. "Nik, I..."

"How do you feel?" Nik bit out, intimately aware that he could feel the throbbing heat between John's legs pressed against the length of his cock.

John's cheeks reddened and Nik felt his weathered hands press to his chest. "Fine... Good, I... Sorry, 'm... I didn' mean..."

"Is ok," Nik said softly. "It is warm. Your body is reacting naturally."

John swallowed and Nik felt a deep breath shudder the length of his back. Noticeably, John didn't draw his hips away; he tensed and then relaxed, like he was fighting an internal battle, his body warming further in Nik's arms as his hips squirmed, rubbing the swollen bud of his cock against Nik's with a soft gasp of surprised pleasure. His skin was warm, flushed, the first beads of sweat gathering across his shoulder blades, slick between their bellies and chests. The miasma of pheromones and arousal made Nik dizzy, and beneath it he could smell the telltale sweetness of heat.

John wasn't due, he knew that much. The captain organised his heats fastidiously. His body had been thrown off kilter by the cold, perhaps, or even the proximity and availability of someone his subconscious deemed a worthy mate to protect it while vulnerable; a virile, strong alpha. The thought that John's primal self would offer him for mating, assured that Nik would be strong enough to protect him while he recovered, and the resulting pups from their union, stirred something feral and possessive in Nik's gut. He pushed it down, shoulders bunching.

John growled low in his throat, flashing his sharp canines, his fists bunching against Nik's chest, perhaps sensing the shift in Nik body. "Don't know wos fuckin' wrong with me," he snarled, and Nik felt the graze of those teeth against his clavicle.

Nik knew John fought his biology. He chafed at it, saw it as a failing. Nik could only imagine what had been done to him in the past to make him feel that way. Like any omega, John was more than capable of tearing him to pieces if he felt threatened, but there was something so rawly vulnerable about John now as he clenched and growled, fighting something that he should view as a nuisance more than a crippling inadequacy.

"Nothing," Nik said. "There is nothing wrong with you. You are... velikolepnyy."

"Fuck, Nik..." John's fingers splayed over his chest again, the cool tip of his nose warming in the hollow of Nik's throat. "Haa, hnn, I think.. ahh, I think ‘m..."

"Da, I can... smell it in your sweat."

"Fuck, fuck..." John snarled, letting out another soft gasp as his body cramped for the first time.

"It is ok. You are safe. We can manage it until help arrives."

John shoved his face into Nik's chest and groaned, pained. “Yer so fuckin’ hard, Nik.”

Nik swallowed. That didn't sound like anger or disgust. But desperation and desire. “Da, you… smell very good,” Nik said, somewhat lamely. “It is ok. I can… I am in control.”

“Oh, fu–” John tensed in Nik’s arms, and Nik heard his jaw creak as he clenched his teeth through another spasm of discomfort. “Need t’ get out of here or I won't be… ha-ah.”

“Nyet, you… John, you must stay in the warm.’

“All the bloody blankets smell of you. S’only gonna… get worse. Fuck, why fuckin’... now?”

Nik swallowed and slid a hand from John's back to his hip. “A panic response. You were in danger–this is not your fault.”

John said nothing. He faded into silence, his body wound tight in Nik’s arms. His previously calm, deep breaths that had inhaled lungfuls of Nik’s scent, soothing his heat into a deeper lull, now hitched in short, sharp pants, trying to avoid the lure of comfort and surrender. Nik wished they were home, in John's bed, or even the snug bunk he used in his office when he couldn't be bothered to drive back to his flat. At least there, surrounded by familiarity, John might have felt safe enough to tentatively explore the desire sinking its hooks in.

But then, Nik thought with only a hint of bitterness, it was the sheer desperation of the environment around them that had panicked his body enough to shake up the clock. Without it, John would have always remained in absolute control of himself to the point of guarded repression. He would have never fallen into Nik's embrace.

“God, fuck,” John growled, his body rigid, like if he moved even an inch he might lose some invisible battle. Ground lost to an encroaching enemy. Nik wished he could roll him into his back and scent him until he relaxed. Every instinct sparking in his brain roared with distress at the discomfort of the omega in his arms, demanding he do something, anything. He laid there uselessly, as frozen as the fish in the ponds outside, caught in the storm of competing needs; to satiate John, and to respect him. It hurt that the two things were in opposition when they should be one and the same.

John shifted, his broad shoulders rolling a little, his head tilting back. Nik could practically hear the cogs whirring in John's mind. When he finally lifted his chin far enough for their eyes to meet, John's were red and watery from stress, pupils dilated. Nik could see a deep sadness, a kind of resignation; bright blue dampened to a faded grey. “I, uh… would ya help me, Nik?”

Nik’s mouth opened and closed, each breath drawing more of John’s deep, saccharine scent to the back of his tongue. His body was tense in Nik’s arms still, occasionally shuddering as another muscle spasm worked its way through his core, a grunt snorting through his nose as he swallowed down his groan of pain. Nik couldn't find his words. “I…”

“C’mon, know you want it, can feel ya between my legs,” John said, huffing softly with amusement, face crinkling in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “Would jus’ be, mm… quick, y’know? So they don't find me in a state. I'd make it up t’ ya, on my word.”

“You would offer me something I have wanted for years as if it is a burden,” Nik said, trying to keep the edge of sadness from his voice but failing rather miserably. “This is not how I… hoped it to be.”

John swallowed, his eyes dropped, expression hazy. It wasn't how Nik had hoped his confession would be either. He had pictured an expensive dinner, perhaps a trip to Duxford so he could look at the planes and John could look at the tanks, and then Nik would have told him as they strolled through the countryside towards a pint, wrapped in scarves and heavy coats. Warm, safe. Comfortable in each other’s presence as they had always been. Like this, John would feel under duress, vulnerable and like he needed to be on the defence.

Another shudder, another pant of breath, the soft gasp not quite bitten back in time. “Please, Nik… can’t let them see me like this, I… I'll be good.. ahh, for ya. No funny business.”

“Funny business?”

“Yeah, not gonna bite, or… mm, won't… won't fight ya.”

“John…” Nik said, his chest pulling tight; his teeth ached at the back of his mouth and a miserable knot formed in his throat. “I am not a rapist.”

“I know, I know… Nik, 'm… ahh, ‘m not thinkin’, didn't mean it like that, I…” John's face dropped to Nik's chest for a moment as he gathered himself. “Jus’... Don't bite me, don't mark me, no’... no’ ready. I… no’ like this.”

“I promise I won't,” Nik said. It hurt that John couldn't meet his eyes. Someone had hurt him badly in the past. Nik had always assumed as such, but that was all the confirmation he needed. The harm was so deep, still raw, that John couldn't even trust a man that had served him loyally for so many years.

Nik lifted the hand from John's hip and cupped the side of his face, thumb brushing over his cheek. Those blue eyes flickered and John tilted into his palm, the softest purr breaking through the tightness of his jaw, so low, like a glass marble rolling across an old oak table. Nik couldn't be sure John wasn't forcing it for his benefit, but it had the desired effect either way; the alpha part of his biology ruffled happily, and he responded with a soft chuff, pressing his lips to John's forehead. "Ya tebya obozhayu."

Nik couldn't resist any longer. If he was gentle, if he took his time, then that apprehension he could see in John's eyes, the tense fear rigid down his back, would melt away. John was watching him, sad blue eyes glistening, part in shame, part in barely disguised fear, and Nik wanted to hold him until all he felt was comfort and pleasure.

Their first kiss was tentative, as tender as Nik could be as his hands shook. John's mouth yielded to his tongue, soft, chapped lips parting with a low moan as John's body arched against his once again. Nik slid his palm beneath John’s thigh to lift it further over his hip, grinding his hard cock against the wet heat between his legs, slow and leisurely. Even the soft material of his boxers would begin to feel coarse against John's heat sensitive skin, so they needed to go.

When Nik pulled away, he sucked gently on John's lower lip, before pressing another kiss to his forehead creased with tense lines. He wriggled away enough to shove his boxers off his hips and down his thighs until they passed his knees. When John pressed back against him, soft skin of his inner thigh sliding over the outside of Nik's, Nik's cock head slid through his wet folds, bumping up against the swell of his cock.

“Oh fuck, Nik… yer so fuckin’ thick…” John bit out, grinding himself against the underside of Nik's cock, slick and precum making filthy, wet noises as John groaned into Nik's chest, hands clutching at the meat of Nik's body as he took his pleasure. Nik let him, mouth hanging open, the soft, wet slit of John’s cunt hot and perfect around the underside of his shaft.

He cupped John's arse with one hand, spreading it open a little so his fingers could dip towards the fluttering muscles of John's holes. The softest brush of his fingertips appeared to be enough because John’s moans hit a peak after only two passes, his body seizing, pushing hard against Nik's cock. “Oh, fuck, Nik, Nik… ha-ah.”

John tucked his face away as if ashamed at his eagerness, pressing his nose into the centre of Nik's chest as his orgasm rattled through him. He was on a hair trigger, sensitivity heightened, receptive to a potential mate’s touch. The thought made something warm and heavy curl in Nik’s belly, and he allowed himself a fleeting moment of excitement. Nik nuzzled a kiss in his hair and chuffed softly, stroking his hands up and down John's back before lifting John higher against him, his cock flicking free of the press of John's body.

It was awkward like this, wrapped tightly in the blankets with John half draped over him, and Nik didn't want to risk rolling on top of John and panicking him. There was a risk instinct would overcome reason in the haze of heat and John's fear, and those sharp teeth would rip through his jugular in seconds. Perhaps later, when he had realised Nik wasn't about to hurt him, Nik would drape over his back and appease the deep need in his gut to blanket his omega as they mated, to fully encompass his powerful body as it presented and guard it with his own. Instead, Nik reached beneath John's thigh, hitching it a little higher, to steady his cock just long enough to sink the head inside.

John gasped, his back arching, his walls still tingling from his orgasm bore down, spasming in renewed pleasure as Nik slowly thrust inside. He couldn't quite get fully seated, not at this angle, but it was enough. His eyes flickered shut at the sweet, soft heat sucking around his shaft as he drew back, thrusting back in with a slow roll of the hips, feeling John press against him with a strangled grunt of shock.

“John…” Nik kept hold of John’s thigh but the other hand slid up his back into his hair, urging his face away from where it had buried against his chest. His eyes were red-rimmed, dull, and there was a crease of concentration doen his face. Nik's heart ached. “I am sorry… you are… tight.”

“S’ok,” John croaked. “Don' be, s’fine, feels good… please, move… ‘m–haa.”

Nik kissed him gently on the lips, no more than a brief brush, before rolling to ease him on top. As John slid down Nik's full length, his knees splaying over the blankets, he choked out a soft gasp. “Nik, fuck, so much… haa, mmm, n-no, give me a moment, need a moment…”

John was so tight, bearing down on the thick girth pressing him open, resisting, anxious. Nik had a slight height advantage, and he used it to press gentle kisses to John's face; over his brow, against a flushed cheek and the creases at the corners of his eyes. He chuffed, stroking warm palms up and down John's broad back as it flexed and quivered.

With each caress, John relaxed, sinking down against the plush warmth of Nik's body; the give of his belly, the cushion of his chest, the downy black hair of his torso that trapped the scent of his sweat and pheromones, rubbing both into John's skin.

John tucked his nose beneath Nik's chin and purred, rough and craggy, like someone had rubbed sandpaper down his throat. Not the silky trill of a young omega, but the worn, tired purr of a mature one that has torn his way through life with his bare hands, snarling and growling, so used to roaring with fury that gentler noises were unwieldy. And yet, it was the most beautiful sound Nik had ever heard.

Nik responded with soft huffs and murmurs of his own, hands sliding down to John's thighs as he slowly rocked his hips up, dragging his thick cock out until only his crown stayed notched inside, the slick dripping down his shaft, soaking his balls, further assurance that John was finding pleasure in their mating. When John tilted his head and started to lick at Nik’s chin and neck, his tongue rasping over Nik’s stubble in long, indulgent laps, Nik tilted his back to submit himself to his omega’s affectionate grooming. I trust you, please trust me.

His. His omega. John was his. Handsome, fierce, strong. Every inch of him wrapped in corded muscle, with a soft layer over his belly and tits, his slim waist and the dip of his back perfectly shaped for Nik’s hands, the firm curves of his arse and thighs, built for explosive strength, agility, for riding an alpha’s cock and taking their pleasure. If only someone had nurtured John's confidence rather than destroy it.

Nik pushed his heels and upper back into the floor, and bounced John’s hips against his, fucking him down onto his cock with increasing pace.

“Oh, Nik, Nik… mmm, yeah, tha’--ah, ah, fuck,” John panted, breath hot against the wetness he had left on the underside of Nik's chin.

“You are perfect, John. Tell me, tell me what… mm, tell me what you want…”

“Ahh, ahh, I nee’, ah, Nik, yeah…”

“That's it, solnyshko, take what you… ahh, take what you need. I am yours.”

Nik could feel John taking agency, tentatively, his hips moving without guidance. He slid his hands down the back of John's thighs and held him behind the knees, giving him something to brace against as he began to grind and roll with increasing urgency, chasing the pleasure coiling in his hips, tensing in his thighs and his lower back.

“Ahh, yer… ahh, yer gettin’ harder… feel, ahh, feel bigger, mm… ahh, yer knot, fuck!”

Nik's knot was beginning to swell, popping in and out of John's hole, gaping him wide with each pass. His back arched, hips thrusting up to meet John, a firm platform for him to slam himself down and grind against. Under the cover of the blanket, the sweat eased the glide of their bodies together, intensifying the scent of heat and arousal in Nik's nostrils. His balls pulled tight as John's desperate noises, broken and gravelly, hit a new, urgent note, and his knot swelled, grinding into John's hole until it locked them together.

Nik released John's shaking legs as his body responded with a deep, overwhelming orgasm that milked Nik’s knot, and Nik grabbed John's face, arching him back to lick the sweat up the curve of his throat. So close to his scent glands, it was saturated in heat pheromones and Nik sucked desperately at the soft, vulnerable skin just above the hollow of his throat as his prick filled John with his seed.

Those strong thighs clamped around his hips, shuddering and weak from exertion, and Nik whispered gentle praise until John went limp against him, melting into the cradle of Nik's body and relaxing around the bulge of his knot.

Nik had never felt satisfaction like it. A soft, comfortable calm settled deep in his bones. His omega smelled satiated, content, the heave of his shoulders calming as his heart settled into an even rhythm. Neither of them spoke. Nik thought perhaps they were both listening to each other's bodies. Nik could feel John's heartbeat; against his chest, wrapped around his cock. Defiant, strong. And Nik wondered whether John could feel his, beating deep inside him, whether it made him feel content, whether the intimacy made him feel as content as it did Nik. Nik kissed John's neck and received a soft rumble in response.

They dozed. Nik's knot went down and he eased John into the softness of the blankets, kissing his chest, his throat, his mouth. Desperate to taste him, to please and comfort him. He was sucking a pebbled nipple when John tugged at him again, gladly spreading his legs for Nik to climb between them. Nik gathered John's hands and pressed them above his head, their fingers wound together, and watched his eyes, kissed his lips, made love to him as gently as he could.

Muscular thighs spread wide as Nik ground deep inside John's eager cunt, alternating between agile rolls and circles of his hips and deeper thrusts that let John feel the heavy balls ready to breed him. The second knot was as intense as the first, and Nik fucked his spend deep into John's body, his tongue in his mouth, their lips locked together. John pushed himself up into it, legs wide in wanton and beautiful submission.

The ebb and flow of John's heat stretched through the night, the storm howling relentlessly outside. They slept between bouts of sex, with John curled into the safety of Nik's arms. After his first turn on top, he was too weak to take the lead again; drained by his brush with the cold, exhausted by the anxiety of an unplanned heat, he relaxed into Nik's care because he had little choice. Nik cradled him, kept them wrapped in the blankets, now rich with the miasma of their mating, their bodies slick and pliant. Every time John demanded, Nik provided.

When he left the impromptu nest - for that is what it had become, soaked in the scent of their mating - it was only to check the radio, feed the fire and arrange John's clothes before it to dry. Each time he returned, John curled back into his embrace with a contented purr, drawing Nik back between his legs.

As dawn creeped closer, John's scent changed, so full of Nik now that he was ready to be claimed. John rolled onto his front, too exhausted to fight his natural desires, and tilted his hips up. Nik writhed between the blankets to taste between his legs, warm tongue lapping slowly over John's puffy, sore cunt, so sensitive and wet, giving into his own instincts to taste the fertility and readiness of his omega.

It was dizzying, intoxicating; Nik pressed his tongue inside and felt John squeeze around him, heard him sigh softly in pleasure, and ground his hard cock against the furs in excitement. He had done this. He had satisfied this strong, indomitable omega to the point he would relax, present, accept a deep and thorough breeding. Nik had been deemed worthy once again.

Nik licked John until his jaw ached, his face soaked in slick, reaching to play with John's engorged cock, squeezing and rubbing until John’s hips were rocking, his moans low and filthy. Eventually, John squirmed, a softer orgasm making his walls flutter in search of a knot as his fingers snagged in the furs. His heat would break in the next few hours; this was their final coupling.

Nik draped over his back, up on his hands and toes with John's hips tilted up. John swallowed him so easily, snug heat sucking Nik’s cock down until Nik’s heavy balls were flush to his body. Nik groaned, the silky soft wetness somehow more divine than it had been the first time, and John echoed him, pressing back, demanding his alpha.

“Nik…”

It was the first word John had said in hours. He had been mostly moans, gasps and growls, completely delirious. That was it, wasn't it? The tension, the resistance, it had melted away, John wanted him, wanted to feel his knot, to take his seed.

“Da, solnyshko. I am here…”

John twisted, arching back, and they kissed, John licking into Nik's mouth. No hiding his face, no delirious submission, but seeking affection as Nik slowly rocked into him. Nik's chest ached in a different way; relief, love, a deep need to protect, to serve his omega's every whim. The soft noises John made through their kiss as Nik dragged every inch of his prick in and out of his body made Nik want to stay there forever, trapped in this moment of bliss. So in tune with John, their heartbeats in tandem, bodies joined as one.

When John broke the kiss, he turned to press his chest into the furs and lift into Nik's thrusts. “Breed me proper, Nik… fuck, I need it… need yer knot, mmm, please, please… harder, wanna feel ya in my damn womb.”

Nik's nostrils flared, his lips rolling back to show his teeth. He dropped to his elbows and tucked his arms beneath John's chest, pressing his own into the sweaty plain of John's back, and began to rut into him harder, faster. The blankets fell away with the pace of Nik's movements, but the fire was stacked high, the room warm enough that it didn't matter. John moaned and gasped, slick hole bearing down on the relentless pump of Nik’s prick into it, hands kneading at the furs.

It was instinctual to lean down and mouth the gland at John's neck, rolling it between his teeth, the sweet taste of unmated omega soaking his tongue. John moaned, more slick dripping down his thighs, his mind unthinking in a soft haze of instinct and heat. He didn't resist, didn't fight.

It would be so easy to claim him at that moment. They would be bonded for life. This beautiful omega would be Nik's and Nik’s alone. Every heat, his body would call for Nik, and Nik’s rut would answer. The intensity of their mating would leave them both sated, and Nik would have a lifetime to show John how much he deserved to be loved. Perhaps even a pup or two, with John's beautiful blue eyes and round cheeks and lopsided smile–

Nik moaned, teeth tightening, as his hips pistoned harder, cock throbbing, so close to release. John's body was so open, so wet, the noises filling the room alongside their moans completely obscene. The filthy pleasure of it roiled in Nik's gut, the thought of pumping another load deep inside his omega, of it quickening as his teeth rended through freckled skin to claim what was already his by fucking birth right, and John had said no, but what if–

He growled low in his chest and forced his jaw apart, pressing his open mouth to John's shoulder, as his knot popped and his balls emptied in powerful pulses.

He didn't bite down.

Wouldn't.

Couldn't.

John had said no and Nik's love for the man was greater than his desire for the omega, even in the heat of the moment. A well of self disgust formed in Nik's chest as he pressed his face to John's back, the fevered, possessive internal rant fading into an echo in the back of his mind.

John moaned and flopped into the furs, his hips shifting only with the occasional stutter of Nik's as he ground his spend as deep as he could. Nik relaxed some of his weight onto John's back and felt him vibrate with the depth of his contentment; a low, croaky purr, only stoked a little louder when Nik lapped at the sweat on his neck, his biceps, and nuzzled into his hair and beard. “Am I too heavy?” he asked, his voice soft beneath the crackle and pop of the fire.

“Naw, feels like yer crushin’ my soul back into my body,” John murmured, his muscles squeezing a little around the swell of Nik's knot. “Feels… good.”

Safe, Nik thought.

The way John was relaxing into the furs, his scent sweet and doughy, blue eyes drooping closed. Nik continued to groom him while they were knotted, licking at the rough at the edge of his grey-speckled beard, nipping his ears and kissing the slopes of his shoulders.

When Nik’s knot faded, he sat back on his heels and watched his cock pull free of John's body with a filthy little slurp. He pressed his thumbs into John's thighs to spread them, admiring the glisten of slick and cum dripping out of John's used hole. Something primal wanted to push it all back in, to make sure not a single drop was wasted. With John so relaxed, Nik gave in to the desire. When Nik slid two fingers in slowly, watching John's soft cunt swallow them so easily, he groaned. It was enough to make his cock twitch with interest again, despite the ache in his lower back and thighs.

“Nik…” John whispered, his hips lifting. “‘m knackered, c’mon… oh, fuck.”

“You are just so perfect… krasivyy. I want to make you feel good. Just once more.” Nik slid his other hand beneath John's body, two fingers rubbing back and forth over the lovely swell of his eager cock, matching the pace of the two thrusting into his cunt.

“Oh, ah, Nik… it's… too much, ‘m too… ah.”

Nik curled his fingers, finding the sweet spot that made John's back arch, and it was so breathtaking the way his muscles bunched, rolling beneath sweat slick-skin, following each pulse of pleasure as it passed up his spine. John's knees spread out, agile hips grinding his cock against the rough pads of Nik's fingers. Even exhausted, wrung out, John’s body sang like a finely tuned instrument under Nik's touch. Like they were meant to be, even without the chemical bond of a mating mark.

John came with a broken moan, his thighs shaking as his cunt clenched around Nik's fingers, slick and cum soaking Nik's palms. The alpha in Nik rumbled with pride and he pulled his hands away to watch John flop, powerful body twitching in the aftershocks.

Nik drew the blankets over their backs and bedded down at John's side, pressing his lips to the back of John's shoulder. In the soft afterglow of their mating, Nik made the silent promise to wait as long as it took for John to be ready. Even if their bonding was his final act as he drew his last breath.

Nik woke some hours later to a crackling voice through the radio. This is Bravo 7. Come in, Yankee 7. He dragged himself out from beneath the blankets and stumbled over to the headset. “This is Yankee 7. It is… good to hear your voice, Lieutenant.”

Copy. And yours. Sitrep?

“We are secure. The captain requires… medical assistance, but it is non-urgent. Hypothermic but stabilised.”

Roger. Location? Over.

“Figures,” Nik yanked his notepad towards him and read out the coordinates.

Rog. Hostiles? Over.

“Just the storm.”

ETA two hours. Sit tight. Out.

Pulling John from the nest felt cruel. Omegas needed time to recover from a heat, and prepare for the next stage. A stage that John would not get to experience, Nik realised, with no small pang of disappointment. They had little time to talk, focusing on packing up camp and covering evidence of their presence.

John's clothes were rough where they had dried before the fire, and Nik held him as he climbed awkwardly back into them. By the time they were making their way towards the drumming blades of a helicopter, Nik's arms around John's back to help him across the uneven ground, they smelled more of woodsmoke and musty damp than sex.

Ghost’s eyes lingered on John when he snapped at the attempt to help him into the Heli. A recently mated omega was aggressive to any alpha that wasn't theirs, and the lieutenant knew something existed between his captain and the pilot that arrived to snatch him from frying pans and fires across the world. Nik dipped his chin once when Ghost glanced at him, and that was enough for the lieutenant.

They gave John his space on the flight home, listening to him growl over the Comms, updating Laswell and Mac on the relative success of the mission. They had secured the intel they needed, even if the storm had nearly scuppered them.

Rog. Ye broken?

“Naw, caught a cold, nuffin’ a rest won't fix.”

Copy. See ye when ye land. Oout.

Nik watched John chuck the radio down and drop his face into his hands, and had to grip his own knees hard to stop from moving over to comfort him. All he felt for the entire journey was a burning desire to blanket and scent the love of his life until he could sleep peacefully. John dozed fitfully the rest of the way, startling awake where he felt unsafe, unguarded.

The base nurses kept him in for a night for monitoring after Nik had accurately relayed John's symptoms, omitting the heat when John had cast him a stern look. So it wasn't until the next day that Nik had a chance to speak to him without prying eyes and ears encroaching on their privacy. Nik caught him just as he was heading into his office.

“John.” Nik felt a stab of pain as John’s shoulders lifted with tension. He couldn't help but reach for him, fingertips stroking the inside of his elbow.

“You olrigh’, Nik?”

“Da,” Nik said, his hand dropping away under John's scrutiny. “Did… did they clear you?”

“Yeah, they said… uh, ya saved my life. Again. Quick thinkin'.”

Nik swallowed, his palm pressing to the door by John's head, desperate to touch him. “And yet, you cannot look at me.”

John’s breath hitched. “I, uh… what you saw… I had no right t’ demand that of ya, Nik. I was arrogant t' think I didn't need spare suppressants for a quick jaunt. Fuckin' irresponsible. Won't 'appen again.”

“You demanded nothing I was not willing to give.”

Somehow, that was the wrong thing to say. John drew in a stuttering breath and tilted his head away, like Nik's scent, even dull beneath shower gel and cologne, was too much. “Yeah, I… thanks fer no’ bitin’ me. I woulda let ya… at the end.”

Nik felt a prickling at the backs of his eyes, a tight knot in his throat. “I do not wish to be thanked for common decency.”

John huffed. It was a sad, resigned noise from deep inside his chest. “Not as common as ya think, mate. Listen, I need time t’ process… come back tomorra?”

“John, I…”

“I need bloody space, Nik,” John snapped, and Nik heard an edge in his voice usually reserved for people stupid enough to try clawing their way under John's skin. “Tomorra, olrigh’?”

Nik blinked quickly, drawing back and inhaling a deep breath. It only served to carry the scent of distressed omega to the back of his tongue, and he wanted nothing more than to curl around John until he smelled just as content as he had in their makeshift nest. “Da. Tomorrow then.”

John pushed down the handle beneath his hand and disappeared inside his office, leaving Nik in the corridor to stare forlornly at the door.

He would wait, he reminded himself. Wait for John to be ready. Even if it took ‘til his dying breath. Nik placed his palm gently on the door before he departed, heading for the familiar comfort of his Black Hawk and her myriad of mechanical issues to occupy his mind.

If Nik had pushed the boundary, he would have found John Price, Captain, peerless leader of the 141, the indomitable Bravo Six, curled up on the floor on the other side of the door, his face buried in his knees as the tears fell and his shoulders shook. He had said he needed space to process, but the truth was, he had no idea where to even start.

#captain john price #cod nikolai #nikprice #prikolai #omegaverse #spicy

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