#will tell you that 'hey if you want to survive you better break out that thesaurus and start getting creative with your labeling'

[luv4arinn]

THIS!!

April is my comfort character (and yes, I also love Megan Fox, I’m not complaining). She’s so sweet, I adore her. I’ve always seen her as a mother/big sister figure to the turtles, and that dynamic is pure gold.

BUT GOD— Bayverse April had SO much potential for real character development.

And what did they do with her? Oh, right, they added that super necessary shot of her butt in the first movie. Wow. Such a great contribution to the plot. Absolutely essential. I hate how they sexualized her.

Like—HELLO?? This girl lost her entire family in a single night. Her father died in a fire, and the only thing she had left were four little turtles and a rat. And not only did she save them from the flames—she freed them, let them live, and loved them from the very start.

While anyone else would have run away, April treated those five mutant experiments as her family, even as a child.

Don’t tell me she didn’t feel incredibly guilty when she left them in the sewer.

Don’t tell me she didn’t cry in her bed, wondering if they survived.

Oh God, my girl.

And then she grew up admiring SACKS, only to find out that he was responsible for her father’s death.

She also grew up believing it had all been a dream, that the turtles and Splinter had died that night. Until one day, years later, she sees them again.

Where is April’s emotional arc? Where is her trauma?

You’re telling me she felt guilty when she accidentally led Sacks to the lair???

And the worst part? That Shredder showed up and almost killed Splinter.

WHAT A LOAD OF CRAP.

AND ON TOP OF THAT, you’re telling me that by the second movie, Raph DIDN’T teach her how to break skulls??

LMAOOOO. Be serious.

Better yet, you’re telling me they cut scenes between April and Raph??

WHAT.

We need MORE Bayverse April content. I’m on my knees. Begging.

So YES, I’m joining the cause.

Here, have some more headcanons for our sweet April <3



April is absolutely obsessed with yellow. It’s her color, her essence, her vibe. But not just any yellow—her yellow. If you see a piece of clothing in that shade in her closet, chances are she bought it in multiple versions: jackets, blouses, heels… even phone cases.

April is an honorary turtle, whether she likes it or not. She’s their human sister, and you can bet they’re always causing chaos in her apartment. Pizza stains on the couch? Of course. Mikey hanging from the ceiling fan? Don’t ask. Donnie trying to install some weird tech in her toaster? Definitely.

April and Donnie are the ultimate geek disaster siblings. There’s no way she understood all the information Donnie dumped on her about Baxter Stockman in the second movie the first time. God, I know she was a fan of him too before realizing he was insane. She gets excited over the same nerdy topics as Donnie—though sometimes, she just nods and pretends to understand.

April knows Mikey has a crush on her. She’s not stupid, it’s so obvious that UGH— but she doesn’t want to hurt him, so she pretends she never noticed. To her, Mikey is like her little brother. She gives him hugs, ruffles his bandana affectionately, and tells him he’ll find someone amazing one day.

Leo respects her more than he lets on. He doesn’t trust many people outside of his family, but April earned that place. When he’s stressed, sometimes she’s the only one who can calm him down with a simple “Hey, breathe. We’ll figure it out.”

April drives like a lunatic. They trust her to get them out of dangerous situations, but every time she gets behind the wheel, EVERYONE holds on like it’s their last day on Earth. Raph yells insults, Mikey enjoys it way too much, Donnie calculates survival odds in his head, and Leo just accepts his fate.

When she found them again, she spent nights watching videos of their childhood. Sometimes she cried, sometimes she laughed, but mostly, she wondered what her life would’ve been like if she had never lost them… or her father.

After the first movie, Raph taught her how to kick ass. Oh my God, YES. Though she had to wait for him to take the initiative because she didn’t want to be a burden (she never would be). Now she can take down a guy twice her size without hesitation.

THIS WOMAN FACED SHREDDER ALONE HUNDREDS OF FEET IN THE AIR. WOAH. She’s got nerves of steel.

That’s why she’s 100% protective of her family and loved ones. Yes, even Vern. Especially Vern, because she knows he’d probably be dead without her.

If someone says anything even remotely offensive about them, April is already throwing daggers. Say one more word, and this woman will POUNCE. She’s mastered the “watch me destroy you with a single sentence” technique in interviews and doesn’t hesitate to use it.

She’s incredibly studious and takes her job seriously. I’m sure she had to fight to stop being seen as just a pretty face. She probably had to deal with way too many condescending remarks in her career, and every time someone tried to belittle her, she responded with cold, hard facts.

She can go hours without sleep when researching something. One time, Leo had to literally take her laptop away because she hadn’t rested in two days.

She has a special connection with Splinter. He’s like a father figure to her, and even though she doesn’t always talk about her emotions, there are moments when Splinter simply serves her a cup of tea and says, “I’m proud of you, April.” And that’s enough.

Her apartment is always a mess, but somehow, she knows exactly where everything is. Donnie tried organizing it once. Big mistake.

Mikey once took her skating through the sewers, and while she screamed like crazy at first, she ended up laughing like never before. It was the highlight of her week.

She’s an absolute fan of heroes and comics. And I know she loves Star Wars. (I’m sure Leo does too, but he just pretends he doesn’t.) Ask her anything about it, and she’ll hit you with incredibly specific information and bibliographic references. Donnie and Mikey once tried to test her knowledge, and they ended up with their heads stuffed full of facts about the original trilogy, Legends, and why Han shot first.

Absolutely, she buys/gives merch to Leo. And to the turtles, too. If you see Leo wearing a black hoodie with the Jedi Order logo, that was April. If Mikey suddenly shows up with a glow-in-the-dark Deadpool t-shirt, that was also April. Raph with a Punisher jacket? Yep, April.

I’m convinced the wardrobe change for the turtles in the second movie was all her doing. I mean, Donnie wearing solar panels as a loincloth… we all cried. April made sure they were dressed more appropriately, but also in a way that fit each of their styles. Mikey was the hardest because he liked everything (“BROOO, what about this? Or this? OR THIS?”), and Leo only agreed because she assured him that “Jedis also evolved their armor.”

No doubt she expands Splinter’s tea pantry. If there’s a rare, expensive, and hard-to-find Chinese tea, April has already gotten it for him—in three different versions. Mikey and Raph don’t understand how there can be so many differences between “grass-flavored teas,” but she and Splinter can spend hours analyzing them.

Yes, she supplies them. Clothes? Yes. Food? Yes. When she saw their fridge stocked with nothing but soda and pizza boxes, she nearly cried. Now, half of it is still soda and pizza, but at least there’s some fruit and protein.

She shares a love for bonsais with Splinter and Leo. It’s their relaxation activity together. But ironically, I know this woman has killed a cactus at least once. Mikey never let her live it down.

You cannot convince me this woman hasn’t gotten at least one tattoo. She loves body art and shares that interest with the brothers. I’m sure she let at least one of them tattoo her—probably a design by Mikey. Something small on her wrist or behind her ear, with a meaning only they understand.

Leo and Donnie made sure everything was 100% safe and sterile. Donnie literally turned Mikey’s space into a mini improvised tattoo studio. “God, April, if you’re going to do this, at least don’t die of an infection”.

Mikey was way too excited. “BROOO, THIS IS ETERNAL ART!” He made at least five sketches before she finally chose one.

She and Raph have a tradition of watching UFC fights together. He yells like he’s in the arena, and she just watches with a beer in hand, completely unfazed—until she sees the perfect kick and mutters, “Shit, that was brutal.”

Even though she helps them in their crime-fighting, she keeps trying to remind them not to forget how to live. Sometimes they show up at her place expecting to plan their next mission, only for her to force them to watch movies, play video games, or just hang out like a normal family. Well… as normal as four giant ninja turtles and an infiltration-expert reporter can be.

Donnie has taught her basic hacking. Not at his level, but enough to sneak into certain databases without getting traced. This is a problem, because now, whenever she wants a big scoop for work, Donnie gets a message like: “Hey, hypothetically speaking… if you had to break into TCRI Industries’ private files… how would you do it? Just curious.”

If Mikey is sad, April notices before anyone else. And even though she can’t give him what he truly wants (her romantic love), she always makes sure he knows how much she loves and values him. She’s the first to hug him, to make him laugh with a dumb joke, and to remind him that someday, he’ll find someone who loves him as much as he loves the world.

If she ever disappears, she’s probably at a nerd convention dressed as a Jedi. Leo would pretend not to be interested, even as she tries to convince him to come with her.

I mean, in full cosplay, who would even realize he’s an actual mutant turtle and not just a Jedi-Hulk crossover?

Obviously, Leo said no.

“April, it’s a public event. I can’t risk it.”

“Leo, there are guys in Iron Man suits that look straight out of the movies, and no one questions them. Literally no one would look at you twice.”

“No.”

“Coward.”

In the end, Mikey did go with her, dressed as a Mandalorian. He ended up signing autographs because everyone thought he was a hyper-realistic animatronic.

She has a theory that turtles don’t have actual fingerprints.

After multiple failed attempts to get them to use touch ID, she concluded that their prints are too irregular for normal sensors to read. Donnie took this personally when he tested it and failed. “This is impossible. My hands are scientifically perfect.”

She has the power to calm Raph down when he’s too fired up. Not with words. Just with a look.

When he’s about to lose control, she gives him the stare. The one that says “No. Don’t do it.”

And… well, he doesn’t always listen, but at least he hesitates.

She knows exactly how to make Leo agree to a plan that isn’t his. Just make him think it was his idea. It’s an art she has perfected.

“It would be great if someone designed a strategy that included this and this…”

“Hmm… maybe we could—”

“That’s an excellent idea, Leo! I knew you’d think of it!”

“…You’re manipulating me, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She has her own underground information network. Being a reporter and the turtles’ best friend has taught her how to move in the shadows. She has contacts everywhere—hackers, informants, low-ranking cops who hate corruption… She knows how to get intel without leaving a trace.

If she needs to go undercover, she does it with ridiculous disguises. No sleek, sexy black suits—she goes full grandma mode with awful wigs, oversized glasses, and the most unflattering clothes possible. Nobody suspects the clumsy woman who drops her purse every five seconds.

One time, Raph took her to train with Casey. And dear God, this woman fought for her life not to fall flat on her face on the ice. Raph mocked her mercilessly until she threw a snowball at his face.

She’s the only human on Earth who immediately understands Donnie’s jokes. Sometimes, she even finishes them before he does. Mikey considers this a scientific abomination beyond comprehension.

She drives like a maniac but has never crashed. It’s a miracle. She’s come dangerously close to hitting poles, jumped between moving cars, pulled off maneuvers that defy physics… but her record remains flawless. The cops can’t catch her if they can’t keep up.

Raph nicknamed her “ferrous” after watching her stand her ground against Shredder.

“You’re tougher than most people I know. You don’t break.”

She won’t admit it, but that nickname makes her smile a little every time she hears it.

She’s a fan of rock and alternative music. She has a playlist for everything. Training with Raph? Metallica. Investigative work? The Killers. Speeding away from the Foot Clan? AC/DC.

She does not fear Baxter Stockman. She did for about 0.2 seconds the first time she saw him. Then he opened his mouth, and she realized she could manipulate him into spilling information. Spoiler: she did.

If anyone hurts her turtles, she becomes a vengeful demon. She’s not a fighter, she doesn’t have super strength, but she’s smart and completely unafraid to get her hands dirty. She can make someone’s life a living hell with just a few phone calls and some well-done investigative work.

She’s been kidnapped so many times she doesn’t even panic anymore. The first time: “OH MY GOD!” The fourth time: “Okay, what’s the plan this time?”

If Casey calls her “babe” at the worst possible moment, she hits him. Not seriously, but just hard enough on the arm to make him understand that now is not the time.

Vern is only alive because she tolerates him. She genuinely cares about him, but there are days when, dear God, that man is unbearable.

If any of the turtles are injured, she’s the first to act. She’s not a doctor, but she’s learned enough from Donnie to perform advanced first aid. She’s also the only human strong enough to hold Raph up when he’s stumbling from an injury.

Mikey uses her as his human meme reference.

“APRIL, I LEARNED HOW TO MAKE MEMES WITH YOUR FACE.”

“Mikey, I swear if you Photoshop me into another Shrek meme…”

“…Oops.”

One time, she beat Raph in a pizza-eating contest. He swears he was just having an off day. She never lets him forget it.

If Splinter says he approves of her, then she’s family. And if anyone messes with her… They mess with the turtles.

that’a all bye <3

bayverse! April headcanons

because i hate the way megan fox was sexualised in the movies i wanna give her more personality than just being hot and smart 😭 i heart u bayverse April

- she thrifts! not just expensive 'real vintage' designer labels but everything, she also finds clothes than can be easily upcycled and tweaked for the boys. Her signature color is yellow so you KNOW she has rare and whimsical pieces she collects in her wardrobe

- speaking of which; she sews! Mikey often rips or breaks his stuff (like shoes and shirts) and hes always giving her bits and pieces to fix up. As much as Donnie is a tech wiz, Aprils expertise lies in the art of DIY! shes tried to teach Don how to sew but ironically its one of the few things he cant crack

- shes a stem nut, OBVIOUSLY! her and Don bond the most over new technology and the advancement of science and digital technology. her and Don made her a pc from scratch and its one of her most precious memories

- April has a really bad sweet tooth, when the guys get pizza for the rare nights in, she's reaching for Mikeys candy stash for sure (she makes sure to replenish it with all their shared faves)

- her favourite candy is anything sour! but actually sour, we're talking throat numbingly sour to the point where at the end of the bag all you taste is blood 💀 it freaks everyone out lmao

- she has a masters in journalism and a degree social sciences, its so important to her to give visibility to the stories rarely talked about. Shes very dedicated to her profession and genuinely gets mad that all vern cares about is attention from fans and the camera

- April is also very passionate about nutrition and fitness! she goes total big sister mode when the turtles neglect their protein intake especially with how big and physically demanding their jobs are. a few times she's tried to teach Leo how to cook for his brothers and hes just about learned how to not burn eggs on toast but shell be damned if she starts cooking for 4 6ft men 😭 respectfully not her job!

- she's incredibly protective of her friends, whoever they may be, even Vern. she doesn't take lightly to disrespect and she WILL trash talk you to silence if you make anyone she cares about feel less than

- when she was younger she wanted to be a zoologist or anthropologist. Like her dad, she's always had a love for science and research, but she loved animals so much as a kid and it crushed her when she realised her father was experimenting on animals

- she feels personally responsible for the turtles and Splinter, she visits them atleast once a night, whether on face time or in person. the fact that they feel theyll never be accepted in society weighs heavy on her heart. she wishes things were different

- she knows Mikey has a crush on her, but she doesn't know how to let him down gently and honestly doesn't wanna open that can of worms, so she just pretends she doesn't notice his very desperate flirting

- sleeper build april. SLEEPER BUILD APRIL. people treat her like shes fragile just because she's beautiful but shes also incredibly strong with amazing endurance. i mean hello?! SHE CAN RUN IN HEELS. thats badass

- she loves game nights w the turtles and Casey, she loves playing MK and her go-to character is ofc Mileena (goated and no im not biased)

- she may or may not have a dedicated collection of disguises for super sleuthing and recon. shes very proud of it and will give a tour if asked

- she wants to learn ninjitsu, just doesn't know if she should ask or wait to be asked. she feels awkward and sometimes wonders if its not her place, even though in reality Splinter would be happy to train someone so dedicated to justice.

- her favourite drink is banana protein smoothie!! the lair has a smoothie just for her 😭 they have to hide it from Mikey before he gets back into his liquid pizza phase again

- she likes hero comics/shows (like 2012 leo!). Naruto was her childhood and its kinda beautifully ironic that she's like a ninja by proxy now

thats all for now! its been like 5 years since ive written headcanons so sorry if the format is boring, lmk if you want more headcanons! ok bai

[theliterarywolf]

You ever see a situation boiling up and all you can think is 'Wow. It's almost as if you had done this ONE BLATANLY OBVIOUS AND EASY THING then this issue would never have gotten to this level.'

[dangerousoperatoroperadonkey]

My mother is all into homesteading and off-grid living videos right now. Every time I check up on her, this is what she wants to talk about.

It gives her a sense of peace and purpose I guess. Which is good, she’s been struggling to find that with her injuries and condition. She’s learning skills, and feeling prepared for “the worst”. Like I can’t get her to stop watching conspiracy theory bullshit on YouTube so at least this kind of content alleviates some of the anxiety the other content amplifies, because she feels like she can do something now to secure her safety later.

But to get through these conversations, I have to tell myself— hey, if natural disaster comes our way, some of this might be useful. But I know she’s not just thinking a big storm or natural disaster. She’s preparing for the collapse of society. And I don’t know how to break it to her that we wouldn’t survive that. You can make long lasting candles with crisco? Cool. Where you going to by crisco when society collapses? You’ll stock up now? Ok cool. What will you do when it runs out? Honestly, before it runs out, what will you do when people with guns come to take your various stockpiled supplies?

If we hit a point where society collapses, we’re done for. Food, medicine, etc. we can’t survive without society, without a world where people are working together trying to help each other out.

So, I’ll go through with this shit in the name of natural disaster preparedness, and because it helps her. But that’s as far as I’m willing to put energy into it. I refuse to prepare for, bet on, or hope for the collapse of society. I’d rather spend my energy trying to prevent society collapsing, what little part I can play in that. I’d rather spend my energy supporting people in my community. I’d rather work and build towards a better future, not prepare for the worst.

[scarletemeterio]

hii, saw u wanted arcane requests. from what ive seen on tiktok, apparently jinx was able to escape after the explosion in the very last episode and survived and ran away on that blimp thing, so could u please write a jinx x fem reader where after the explosion, jinx comes to get reader and they run away together happily to another region to have a fresh start and have a quiet, peaceful life. 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 pls and thank you.

A Fresh Start (Jinx x Gn!reader)

Warnings: mentions of death, use of (Y/N) once

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Fandom: Arcane

Summary: see request

Word Count: 1.6k

No set pronouns for reader

•••

You still remembered every detail, every word said, replaying the moment in your head. You'd had a fight with Jinx, nothing serious you'd thought, but when she and Ekko found you, you could see the pain in her eyes. She came running to you, wrapping her arms around your neck.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean all those things I said,” she apologized, her voice breaking. “You've always been there for me, and I've been ungrateful about that.”

You hugged her tightly, with your arms surrounding her waist, hiding your face in her shoulder.

“It's okay, it doesn't matter now,” you mumbled. “Are you okay?” You asked, breaking apart and caressing her face.

She simply nodded, but you could read her like an open book, and you knew that there was something she wasn't telling you.

Before you could keep questioning her, Ekko decided to speak.

“I hate to interrupt the sweet moment and everything, but we have to hurry if we wanna survive,” he said. You gave him a confused look, slowly breaking your embrace with Jinx.

“Yeah, the world is basically about to end,” the girl said. And both she and the boy tried their best to give you all the information you needed, trying to come up with a plan.

When you were almost finished with the globe, Jinx pulled you apart for a moment, wanting to talk to you.

“I really am sorry about before," she started saying, “I just couldn't think straight at the moment and I took it out on you.”

“Hey, I said it was okay and I meant it,” you comforted her, grabbing her hand.

“I just don't want us to be on bad terms, we don't know what could happen out there,” she whispered, trying to hold back her tears.

“We're not on bad terms, okay? Don't worry about that, my love,” you answered, not wanting to think about the worst case scenario.

“Thank you for not giving up on me, (Y/N), I'm so lucky to have met you. You mean the world to me, and I love you so much.” Tears were already falling down her cheeks, making it hard to contain yours too.

“I love you, too, baby.” You pressed your foreheads together, closing your eyes to better savour the moment. “Don't worry, we're gonna be okay,” you tried to reassure her. “I'm not saying today will be easy, but we'll make it, and soon this will all be just a dark moment from the past.”

She wrapped her arms around your neck once again, not being able to control her sobs anymore. You were taken aback from the sudden action and her reaction. Her embrace was tight and almost filled with dread, almost as if she was certain something bad would happen. You decided to get those thoughts out of your head. Danger was knocking at the door, and you couldn't ignore it anymore; the moment to fight had come.

When you got to the fight scene, Vi quickly joined you, and so did Vander. Ekko took control of the globe, making it crash into the building, knocking the air out of your lungs. When you finally got back on your feet, you quickly went to help Vi and Jinx against Vander, but a hard blow at you was the last thing you remembered before losing consciousness.

You had no idea how long you were out of it. Ekko's figure was the first thing you saw when you woke up, and he helped you sit down slowly.

“Hey, easy there,” he said. “You got hit pretty badly.”

“I'm fine,” you groaned. “Where’s Jinx?” He ignored your eyes, tilting his head. “Ekko?”

He only had to look at you, and you could instantly feel the world crumble around you. Tears quickly flooded your eyes, still looking at the boy in front of you.

“Tell me it's not what I'm thinking,” you pleaded.

“She sacrificed herself to save Vi.”

You closed your eyes, letting the tears roll down your cheeks. You wanted it to be some sick joke, for her to get into the room and tell you that it wasn't true, that she was fine and you didn't have to worry about anything. But you knew her, and you knew something felt off about her in that last conversation you had. Turns out something bad did end up happening.

•••

Not many days had passed, the pain still fresh. You were lost in your thoughts, staring at the city in front of you. You were in the spot Ekko had shown you not long ago, trying to find a bit of peace in contrast to the mess in your head.

Life in Zaun was very unpredictable, which made it difficult to make long-term plans, but also made it easy to not get attached to anything nor anyone. But Jinx was the exception. You just couldn’t stop yourself from getting attached to her, and now you were suffering the consequences.

To be honest you wouldn’t really change anything, not even the pain you were feeling right now. Changing things would mean not even getting to know her, and you were grateful to have met her, to share your life with her. You were simply paying life’s price for love.

You suddenly felt a presence behind you, but you kept your gaze to the front.

“I'd really like to be alone, Ekko,” you said, assuming that the boy had come to check on you.

“I'm not Ekko.”

You froze in place. You had to be hallucinating, it had to be the only explanation. She was gone, and nothing would change that. You shook your head in disbelief, looking up at the sky.

“I'm even hearing her voice now,” you said. You could feel that presence even closer now, and you quickly grew frustrated with what you thought was your own mind. “Leave me alone!” You screamed, turning to the presence behind you and freezing once again when you finally saw her.

“Hey, it's me,” she whispered.

You quickly got up, never breaking eye contact.

“But- You- How?” It was all you could say, barely whispering, still not truly believing what you were seeing. She was right there.

“I guess being injected with crazy amounts of shimmer to keep me from dying had its perks,” she explained almost jokingly, trying to lighten up the mood. “I managed to escape the explosion.”

“But I don't understand. Why didn't you come back right away? Why let us believe you were dead?” You had a million questions in your head, and you could feel your heart beating like crazy.

“I needed everyone to believe it, to have a fresh start. Vi would never give up on me if she knew I was still alive; she'd follow me to the end of the world.”

You still kept your distance from her, it all seemed unreal. A few minutes ago you were grieving her, and now she was right in front of you, as beautiful as ever. But you felt anger inside you as well. She could've told you, she could've saved you from that horrible pain of thinking she was actually gone for good.

“You knew you were gonna fake it all along, didn't you?” You realized, thinking about that last conversation you two had. “That's why you were so emotional, so shaken and distressed.”

“Baby, I-.”

“You knew, right?” You interrupted her, voice cracking with your words.

“I did.”

You closed your eyes. You didn't really know when you'd started crying, but the tears kept falling down your face.

“You let me believe you were dead, Jinx! Dead!” You didn't even try to hide how emotionally distressed you were. You needed to let everything out. The blue-haired girl broke the distance between you two, holding you in her arms while you sobbed into her chest, quickly collapsing to the ground.

“I'm so sorry, baby. I made a mistake and I should've told you,” she said while running her hand through your hair. You could tell by her voice that she was also crying, filled with guilt. “I'm sorry, please forgive me.”

“I get why you did it,” you told her after a while. “I don't blame you for wanting peace, but you have no idea how much it hurt me to think that I'd lost you.”

She cupped your face and made eye contact with you before pressing your foreheads together. “I'm sorry,” she repeated, feeling like she could never say it enough times to express just how much she regretted not letting you know before.

“I'm just glad you're actually okay, love.” You leaned in to her touch, savouring the moment after such turmoil.

She gave you a kiss on your forehead before speaking.

“I want you to come with me,” she uttered.

“Come where?” You questioned.

“I don't know, away from here,” she replied. “I really want that fresh start, but I know that trying to live without you would be absolute hell. I've had many uncertainties in my life, but you just feel right. If there's something I'm sure of is that I love you, with every part of me.”

“I love you, too,” you told her. “And I'd also follow you to the end of the world.” You let out a hopeful smile, and so did she before cupping your face to kiss you.

Her lips against yours felt absolutely right, like it was just the way it had to be, forever and ever. You belonged together, and there was nothing you wanted more than to build a future with her, away from all the ghosts from the past. You knew it wouldn't be easy, both of you had a lot to let go of but with her by your side everything felt a bit easier, and for the first time in a long time, you felt hopeful.

•••

i absolutely loved this request, thank you anon! i'm a sucker for angst

also i'm 100% sure she's still alive

[aspenmissing]

hey! just wanted to say that i LOVE your writing style!!! :3 is it possible to get an s\a comfort for the arcane characters? nothing in detail of course- just the characters find out that reader gotten s\a'd. i'd really like that as someone who survived s\a. if you don't want to do that, that's fine! i get it. :) thank you! 🤍🤍🤍

ꜱᴀꜰᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴀʀᴍꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ || 6598 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ꜱ/ᴀ (ɴᴏ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ/ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟ)

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴀꜱᴛᴀʀᴅ ɢᴏᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴡᴇʟʟ! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪꜱʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ! <3 <3 <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ

JAYCE

The workshop was quiet, save for the occasional scratch of Jayce’s pen against parchment. Hextech schematics lay sprawled across the table, half-finished, waiting for the spark of genius he often found in the quiet moments. But tonight, his thoughts were elsewhere.

You sat by the window, the soft glow of Piltover’s streetlamps casting a golden sheen over your face. You hadn’t spoken much today, lost in a silence Jayce didn’t quite understand—but he felt it. The weight of something unspoken, something that pressed against your chest and refused to let go.

Jayce wasn’t the kind of man to push. He knew you’d talk when you were ready. But seeing you like this, so distant, so unlike the spark of life you usually carried—it hurt him. He had seen you in your brightest moments, laughing with unfiltered joy, eyes alight with wonder as you watched him work. Now, it was as if the light had dimmed, and he hated feeling helpless.

“Mi Amor,” he murmured, setting his pen down and pushing aside his work. He stood, crossing the room in slow, careful strides, as if afraid to break you further. “Talk to me.” (My love)

You didn’t look up, eyes trained on the world outside, but your fingers curled tighter around the fabric of your sleeve. He could see it now—the tension in your shoulders, the way you curled in on yourself as if trying to make yourself small.

His heart clenched.

Jayce had seen battle, had faced opposition, had fought tooth and nail to make the world a better place. But nothing, nothing in the world made him feel as powerless as watching you fight a war inside yourself that he couldn’t see. He wanted to fix things, but some wounds didn’t heal with science or innovation. Some wounds simply needed time, and someone to hold the pieces together.

“Please,” he said, softer this time. He knelt beside you, resting a warm, calloused hand over yours. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

A shaky breath left your lips, and that was the beginning of it. The unraveling.

Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Something happened to me… a long time ago.”

Jayce didn’t move, didn’t speak, but his grip on your hand tightened—not enough to hurt, just enough to ground you. To tell you he was here. That he wasn’t going anywhere. His mind raced with questions, with anger at the world, but he pushed it all aside, focusing on you and only you.

“It wasn’t my fault,” you continued, and the way your voice broke shattered something deep within him. “I know that. I do. But sometimes, I still feel like—like I’m dirty. Like I’m weak.”

Jayce inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. Not at you, never at you, but at the cruelty of the world. At the injustice of it all. But he forced himself to exhale slowly, to push down the anger, because right now, you needed him to be something else.

Gentle. Safe.

“Hey,” he whispered, shifting onto the couch beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He felt the way you tensed at first, before slowly sinking into him, letting him hold you. He pulled the blanket from the couch’s armrest, draping it over you both, creating a barrier from the outside world. “You are not weak, Y/N. You are the strongest person I know.”

A small, trembling hand clutched at the fabric of his shirt. “I just… I don’t want it to define me.”

Jayce pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering there. “It doesn’t.” He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, warm brown meeting yours with nothing but certainty. “You define yourself. Not what someone else did to you. And I swear to you, I’ll be here—every step of the way.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Jayce caught it with his thumb. And when you finally let yourself cry, truly cry, he didn’t try to shush you, didn’t try to rush your pain away. He just held you, strong and steady, as long as you needed.

Because that’s what love was.

As the minutes passed, the heavy silence between you slowly morphed into something lighter. He traced gentle circles on your back, whispering reassurances whenever he felt your breathing hitch. The world outside carried on, the distant sounds of the city moving forward—but in this moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in warmth, in safety.

“I love you,” he finally murmured, resting his forehead against yours. It wasn’t about fixing you. You weren’t broken. It wasn’t about saving you. You didn’t need saving. It was about standing beside you, through the shadows and the light.

And he would. Always.

VIKTOR

The evening was quiet, save for the steady tick of a clock and the occasional rustle of papers as Viktor reviewed his notes at the dining table. The soft glow of candlelight bathed the apartment in golden hues, casting long shadows against the walls. It was a rare moment of stillness—no rushing around the lab, no frantic calculations, just the gentle company of one another.

You sat curled up on the couch, a book resting open on your lap, though your eyes had long since stopped reading the words. Your gaze was distant, unfocused, as if staring past the pages into something only you could see. Something in your mind weighed you down like a heavy chain, an old wound resurfacing without permission, dragging you into memories you wished you could forget.

The warmth of the apartment should have been comforting. The scent of old books and Viktor’s faintly metallic, oil-stained presence should have grounded you. But tonight, none of it was enough to stop the shiver crawling up your spine.

Viktor’s cane tapped lightly against the wooden floor as he made his way toward you, his movements careful and precise. Even with his slight limp, there was an elegance to the way he carried himself, a grace you had always admired.

“You are awfully quiet tonight, drahý.” His voice was soft, tinged with curiosity but not pressing. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you, resting his cane against the armrest. His presence was gentle but unwavering, his sharp gaze studying your face, taking in every small sign of distress. (Dear)

You swallowed, your fingers tightening around the edge of your book. “I just… I remembered something I wish I hadn’t.”

The words felt heavy as they left your lips, like they had been stuck in your throat for too long. You hadn’t meant to say anything at all. The last thing you wanted was to weigh Viktor down with your ghosts. But there was something about his presence, the way he sat patiently beside you, that made it impossible to hold everything in.

Viktor didn’t speak immediately, but his golden-brown eyes flickered with concern. He was always quick, his brilliant mind piecing things together with little effort. He had known for some time that you carried burdens—unspoken ones, locked away in the depths of your heart.

Gently, he reached out, his calloused hand resting over yours. His touch was warm, grounding. “You do not have to tell me if it hurts too much,” he said quietly. “But if you wish to… I am here.”

You looked down at his hand over yours, the contrast of it. Viktor, for all his genius, for all his sharp wit and unrelenting ambition, had always been so careful with you. Like he understood you needed gentleness more than anything else.

A shaky breath escaped your lips, and after a moment of hesitation, you whispered, “Someone hurt me. A long time ago.” The words felt foreign in your mouth, like they didn’t belong to you. “Not just hurt. They… they took something from me. And sometimes, I still feel like I can’t escape it.”

Silence followed, but not the uncomfortable kind.

Viktor’s grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, his fingers curling around yours in a silent vow. His eyes darkened—not with pity, but with something deeper, something unreadable. There was an anger there, not directed at you, but at whoever had left these scars on your soul.

“I see,” he murmured after a long pause. His voice was careful, steady, but you could hear the tension beneath it. Viktor, who prided himself on his ability to understand the world, to solve its mysteries—this was something he could not fix. And that thought seemed to pain him.

Tears welled in your eyes before you could stop them. You hated crying, hated feeling like this. But Viktor made no move to hush you, no attempt to tell you it would be okay when he knew such words were empty.

Before the first tear could fall, he shifted closer. He moved slowly, always mindful, as if giving you the space to pull away if you needed.

“May I hold you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded.

With a tenderness that contradicted the sharp, brilliant mind always whirring with thoughts, Viktor pulled you into his embrace. His arms wrapped securely around you, his warmth seeping into your skin, steady and unshakable. You buried your face into his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of parchment and faint oil.

He didn’t speak right away. He didn’t try to fix it, didn’t try to offer empty reassurances. Instead, he simply held you, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back, his other threading carefully through your hair.

“I hate that this happened to you,” he murmured, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “You did not deserve it.”

The weight of his words unraveled something inside you, and the tears finally slipped free. You clung to him, shaking, but he never wavered. He held you like you were something precious, something unbreakable despite everything.

For a long time, you stayed like that. Viktor didn’t rush you, didn’t try to fill the silence with unnecessary words. He simply let you cry, let you be however you needed to be.

After some time, when the shudders had eased, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away the last traces of tears. “I do not claim to know what you need to heal,” he admitted. “But whatever it is, I will be here. Always.”

His words wrapped around you like a safety net, a promise woven into the very foundation of who he was. Viktor had never been a man of empty promises, never one to say things just for the sake of them. He meant every word.

You let out a trembling sigh, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Just this,” you whispered. “This is enough.”

And Viktor, ever patient, ever kind, simply held you tighter, as if he could shield you from every nightmare, every ghost of the past. And maybe, in this moment, he did.

Because for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

JAYVIK

The apartment was warm, lit by the soft glow of streetlamps filtering through the window. It had been a peaceful night—until it wasn’t.

Jayce’s hands had been on your waist, his lips tracing a path down your neck, and for a moment, it had been fine. You’d wanted this. You loved them—both of them. But then something shifted, something in the way he pressed a little too close, the weight of him trapping you against the couch. It sent a jolt of ice through your veins, a memory clawing its way up from the depths of your mind. Panic gripped you like a vice.

You barely registered the way you shoved him off, stumbling to your feet as your breath came too fast, too shallow. Your chest tightened, your vision blurred at the edges, and you could feel the room spinning.

“Y/N?” Jayce’s voice was distant, concerned, but it only made the nausea worse.

“Don’t—” Your voice cracked, shaking as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to ground yourself, trying to remember you were safe. But your body wasn’t listening.

Then, a familiar voice, steadier, softer, cut through the haze. “Drahý, breathe.” (Dear)

Viktor. His presence was close, but not too close. He stood carefully, his cane in hand, eyes locked onto yours with the kind of patience that had always made you feel safe. He wasn’t reaching for you, wasn’t crowding you—just waiting, offering you the space to come back to yourself at your own pace.

Jayce looked helpless, torn between wanting to comfort you and fearing he’d only make things worse. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” you choked out, barely able to meet his eyes before squeezing yours shut. You hated this. Hated that the past still had this much power over you.

A warm hand, tentative but grounding, touched yours. Viktor. He was sitting now, careful, his golden eyes searching yours. “Come, sit,” he murmured, tapping the space beside him. “Let us be here with you.”

You hesitated, but your legs felt weak, trembling beneath you. Slowly, you sank down beside him, his cane resting against the arm of the couch as he adjusted, staying close but not overbearing. Jayce followed suit, hesitant, careful, his usual confidence replaced with concern.

“Was it… something I did?” Jayce asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, staring at your hands. “No. Not really. It just—reminded me of something.”

Jayce inhaled sharply, as if realizing exactly what that meant. “Shit. Y/N, I—”

Viktor gave him a pointed look, and Jayce stopped, nodding in understanding. This wasn’t about fixing it. This was about being here.

Viktor’s hand, still on yours, gave a gentle squeeze. “You are safe,” he reminded you. “With us, always.”

Your breath hitched, but this time, it wasn’t from panic. It was from the overwhelming sense of love wrapped around you, steady and unwavering.

Jayce exhaled and ran a hand through his hair before resting his palm on your knee, warm and solid. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. Ever.”

You nodded, still shaken but feeling less alone. Less like you were drowning. Viktor’s fingers traced slow, rhythmic patterns against the back of your hand, a silent reassurance.

“We can just stay like this,” Viktor murmured. “For as long as you need.”

The warmth of their presence enveloped you, a steady reminder that you weren’t alone. Viktor’s hand remained in yours, his touch light, patient, as if he was anchoring you to the moment. Jayce, still hesitant, moved just a little closer, his knee brushing against yours, testing the boundaries of what you could handle.

Minutes passed in silence, save for the quiet hum of the city outside. The steady tick of the clock on the wall gave a slow rhythm to your breaths, helping you count, helping you focus on the present instead of the ghosts clawing at the edges of your mind.

Jayce shifted, carefully, his fingers flexing on his knee before he spoke again. “Is there anything you need? Water? A blanket?” His voice was still thick with guilt, but it was softer now, focused on you, on making sure you were okay.

You hesitated, considering, before nodding. “Water… might help.”

Jayce stood immediately, as if grateful for something to do, and disappeared into the kitchen. The sound of cabinets opening and the faucet running grounded you further, the normalcy of it cutting through the lingering panic.

Viktor tilted his head slightly, watching you. “Would you like to talk about it?”

You chewed on your lip, unsure. Did you? The thought of saying it out loud made your throat tighten, but at the same time, you wanted them to understand. Needed them to know why your body reacted this way even when your mind told you you were safe.

Jayce returned, pressing a cold glass of water into your hands. You murmured a quiet thanks and took a sip, the cool liquid soothing your dry throat.

Finally, you exhaled. “It was a long time ago,” you began, voice barely above a whisper. “But sometimes… sometimes my body remembers before I do.”

Jayce sat back down beside you, his brows furrowed. “That’s not fair,” he muttered, frustration evident—but not at you. Never at you.

Viktor nodded, his expression unreadable, but his fingers gave another soft squeeze. “No, it is not. But you do not have to fight this alone.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but this time, they weren’t from fear. They were from the sheer relief of being understood, of being loved despite the weight of your past. Viktor and Jayce didn’t ask for more than you could give. They didn’t push. They just stayed.

And right now, that was everything.

VANDER

The Last Drop had always been a place where time seemed to slow down. A haven for the weary, the broken, and the ones who had yet to be whole again. The flickering light from the lanterns cast a soft glow over the mismatched tables and worn stools, giving the place a sort of melancholic warmth. It had a life of its own, one that felt like a lullaby to those who found comfort here. But tonight, the usual chatter of laughter and boisterous conversation was missing. The bar was quieter than usual, and you could feel it in the air. Something was different.

Vander moved behind the bar with his usual fluid grace, his large hands skilled at cleaning glassware and wiping down counters. But there was something more to his movements tonight. The way his shoulders were drawn tight, as if he was carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid things. His eyes occasionally flicked toward you, noting the way you sat at the far end of the bar, your posture rigid, your gaze lost in the grain of the counter beneath your fingertips. You hadn’t even touched your drink, which was unusual for you. Your usual spark, the warmth in your expression that always made you stand out, was missing. Tonight, there was only a quiet storm behind your eyes, and Vander wasn’t one to ignore that.

He watched you for a moment longer before placing the rag down with a soft thud. The sound of it against the wooden bar seemed louder than it really was in the heavy silence. He made his way around the bar, his large frame blocking the faint light from the corner as he settled onto the stool beside you. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes. He didn’t sit behind the counter, creating a divide between the two of you. He was right there, at your level, making it clear that he was present, not just physically, but emotionally, too.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to reach deep into your chest. “You alright, love?”

It was a simple question, but the tone of his voice, the gentle concern in it, made you flinch before you could even stop yourself. It was so small, barely noticeable to anyone else, but Vander didn’t miss a thing. His eyes softened, and he studied you for a long moment, looking for something you weren’t ready to show. You tried to force a smile, but it came out more like a thin line, your lips barely moving, and certainly not reaching your eyes.

“Just tired,” you mumbled, hoping the vague answer would be enough to satisfy him, to make him leave it alone. But Vander wasn’t someone who would settle for half-truths. Not when it came to you.

His gaze didn’t waver. “Y/N,” he said again, his voice low and steady. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready, but somethin’ is weighin’ on you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy like lead, and for a long time, you didn’t say anything. What could you say? How could you explain it all without sounding weak? Without feeling like a failure? But Vander wasn’t asking you to explain. He wasn’t looking for your pain; he was just offering a place for it, a space where you didn’t have to carry it alone.

The silence between you stretched on, filled only by the quiet murmur of voices in the background. Finally, you sighed, the sound raw and full of weariness. You weren’t ready to tell him everything, but maybe you could start somewhere. Maybe just enough to take the weight off your chest, if only for a moment.

“Something happened,” you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. Your voice trembled despite yourself. “A long time ago. Before I came here. Someone—” You faltered, your throat tightening as memories flooded back, unwanted and sharp. The images came unbidden—faces, voices, moments you tried to bury deep within yourself. But they always resurfaced at the worst times.

Vander’s hand came down over yours, warm and steady, grounding you in a way no one else could. The simple touch of his palm against your trembling fingers was enough to silence the storm in your chest, even if just for a moment. He didn’t ask you to continue. He didn’t need you to tell him every detail. He just gave you the space to breathe. To be.

“You don’t have to tell me more than you want to,” he said softly, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand in slow, reassuring circles. “But somethin’ happened to you, and I can see it’s still hauntin’ you.”

You swallowed hard, and for a moment, it felt like the world was spinning too fast. You didn’t want to admit it. You didn’t want to let him see you weak. But it was too much to keep inside. So, you let out a shaky breath and whispered, “It’s not easy to talk about.”

His gaze softened, but there was no pity in it. Just a quiet understanding that went deeper than anything words could express. He didn’t push you. He didn’t demand more than you could give. Instead, he waited, patiently, with the calm strength that was always there when you needed it most.

When you spoke again, it was barely above a whisper. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like it still has power over me. Like no matter how far I go, no matter how much time passes, it’s still there. Still lurking in the back of my mind.” You looked down at your hands, trying to steady them, but they were trembling, betraying you.

Vander’s grip tightened just a little, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that you weren’t alone in this. “It doesn’t have power over you, love,” he said, his voice firm with conviction. “Not here. Not with me. No one’s ever gonna hurt you like that again. Not while I’m around.”

The weight of his words settled on your chest, a warmth spreading through you despite the cold ache that lingered in your heart. It was like the first breath of fresh air after a storm, the first ray of light after the dark. For a moment, you almost believed it. You almost believed that it really was over, that the past couldn’t reach you anymore. But then the walls you’d built inside yourself started to crack, and the tears you’d been holding back began to fall.

You didn’t try to hide them. Instead, you leaned into him, letting his warmth surround you like a shield. Vander’s arms encircled you immediately, holding you close, strong but gentle. His scent—a mix of smoke, ale, and something deeper, something more comforting—filled your senses. It was the scent of safety. Of home.

“You’re safe, Y/N,” he murmured against your hair, his voice low and steady. “Always.”

And for the first time in so long, you believed him. You let yourself believe him, if only for this moment. Because with Vander, you knew that the darkness of the past could never reach you here. You were safe. You were whole. And in his arms, you had the peace you’d been searching for, even if just for tonight.

Vander didn’t speak again. He didn’t need to. He just held you, his presence a quiet reassurance that you weren’t alone, and that you never would be again.

SILCO

The rain drizzled against the windows of Silco's office, a gentle tapping that seemed to mirror the quiet storm in his mind. His usually sharp focus on the papers before him had waned, his dark eyes drifting, unfocused, to the water running down the glass. The rhythmic sound of the rain should’ve brought him peace, but today it only reminded him of the unease that had taken root inside him. It was an unusual occurrence for Silco, a man whose mind was always a step ahead, never easily distracted.

Y/N had been distant for the past few days, but today… today it was worse. She wasn’t just quiet or distracted. There was a heaviness in her gaze, a sadness that hung around her like a thick cloud. Silco had always been able to read people—had to be, to survive in the underbelly of Zaun. But with Y/N, it was different. Her pain, her struggles, never quite made sense to him. He knew she had a past, one that she rarely spoke of, but he never asked about it. Yet, now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever haunted her had finally caught up to her, and it was something much worse than what he had imagined.

At first, he assumed it was just the stress of their work together—the constant battles with Piltover, the endless scheming, the weight of their shared ambitions. But today, as he watched her interact with the others in the hideout, he noticed small things. The way she flinched when one of the other members brushed past her, her hands trembling just slightly as she reached for a glass, and the hollow look in her eyes when she thought no one was watching.

It was when he had found her earlier in the hallway, almost jumping out of her skin when he stepped too close, that he finally understood. Something had happened. Something more than stress, more than the chaos of their lives. It was deeper. Darker. And Silco had no intention of letting her face it alone.

He had always been a man who kept his distance, preferring to watch and observe rather than reach out. But with Y/N… He had never wanted to be the type of man who ignored the pain of someone close to him. It didn’t matter how cold the world was, or how much the darkness seemed to consume everything—it mattered to him that she was safe. She mattered to him.

A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He barely registered it, his mind still tangled in worry for her, but the sound was enough to bring him back to the present. He glanced up as Y/N stepped inside, her head down, eyes cast toward the floor. Her posture was small, like she was trying to make herself invisible, and that only made his heart ache more.

She was different now. Gone was the woman who once held herself with a quiet strength, confident and steady. In her place was a shell, fragile and cracked. Her pale face, usually so expressive, was now hollow, her eyes dull with the weight of some unseen burden. Silco could feel his own pulse quicken at the sight of her. He hated this. He hated seeing her like this.

"Y/N," his voice was steady but soft, a rare tenderness in the way he spoke. "Come here."

There was hesitation in her movement as she crossed the room, and Silco didn’t miss the way she kept her distance, as though afraid of being too close to him. It wasn’t like her. He could sense the hesitation, the quiet wariness in her actions, and it cut through him like a blade.

She finally stopped in front of him, her eyes refusing to meet his. She stood there, trembling slightly, as though unsure of what to do. Silco rose from his desk, his presence commanding but gentle as he approached her. He didn’t need to ask what had happened. He already knew. He had known for a while now, even before she had come to him for comfort.

He didn’t ask her to speak. She didn’t have to say a word. It was enough for him to see the way she struggled, the way she tried to hold herself together in the face of her pain.

"You don’t have to carry this alone," Silco murmured, his voice low and smooth, each word measured and deliberate. "Whatever happened… I’m here. You don’t need to keep it buried, Y/N."

Y/N’s lips trembled, her breath shaky as she forced herself to look up at him. Her eyes flickered with an emotion too raw for her to hide—fear, shame, pain. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the tears threatening to spill. Silco could see it all: the weight of her grief, the sorrow she tried so desperately to hide. And in that moment, he knew that she needed him. More than ever.

He didn’t wait for her to say anything. Instead, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently lift her chin, guiding her eyes to meet his. The warmth of his touch was enough to steady her for a moment, to make her feel grounded again.

"You are not broken," he said, his voice calm but firm, carrying a quiet authority. "Whatever has happened, whatever you’ve been through… it does not define you. You are not weak, Y/N. You are stronger than you think."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, and for the first time, she let her guard down. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch as a sob broke free from her chest. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry for so long, hadn’t let herself feel the weight of everything she had been carrying. But with Silco, there was no need for restraint. There was no need to pretend to be strong when the pain was too much.

Silco’s thumb brushed gently across her cheek, wiping away the first of many tears that fell. His heart twisted with every drop, but he didn’t pull away. He wouldn’t leave her to suffer alone. Not now. Not ever.

"You’re not alone," he whispered, his voice breaking the silence. "I’m here. I’ll always be here. No one will hurt you again. Not while I’m around."

Y/N’s breath shuddered as she clung to him, her arms wrapping around his waist in a desperate need for comfort, for solace. Her tears soaked through the fabric of his coat, but he didn’t flinch. He held her close, feeling the tremors in her body as she let herself fall apart in his arms. She was broken, yes, but she was also stronger than she realized. And he would help her rebuild, piece by piece, if that’s what it took.

For a long time, they stood there in the quiet of his office, the only sound the steady rain against the glass and the muffled sobs of the woman who had come to mean more to him than he ever expected. And as she clung to him, Silco realized something he hadn’t before: he didn’t just want to protect her from the world. He wanted to protect her from the parts of herself she felt ashamed of, the parts that told her she wasn’t worth saving.

Silco gently lifted her head, his fingers brushing through her hair as he gazed down at her. His expression softened, his usual cold demeanor replaced by something warmer, something rare. "Rest now," he murmured. "You don’t need to carry the weight anymore. Let me carry it for you."

Y/N didn’t say anything, but the way she pressed her cheek against his chest told him everything he needed to know. She trusted him, in a way that felt sacred, and for once, Silco let himself feel the weight of that trust. He would protect her. He would stand by her side, no matter the cost.

For now, the world outside—the chaos, the schemes, the endless struggles—could wait. All that mattered was this moment. Silco and Y/N, two broken souls finding a quiet reprieve in each other’s arms.

And Silco… for all his ambition, for all his coldness, would be the one to show her that even in the darkest moments, there was still a glimmer of warmth waiting to be found.

MEL

The door to the bedroom creaked open slowly. Mel, fresh from a council meeting, entered, her heels clicking lightly against the floor. But something felt wrong—an unfamiliar stillness hung in the air. The usual warmth of their shared space was now replaced by an overwhelming silence.

As her eyes scanned the room, they found Y/N sitting by the window, her back hunched slightly. Mel’s heart tightened at the sight. Y/N’s hands were clasped tightly together, her shoulders trembling, and the soft sounds of stifled sobs drifted toward her.

“Y/N?” Mel’s voice was low and gentle as she moved toward her. She knelt in front of her, carefully reaching out to touch her lover’s hand, noticing how cold it felt. The contact was gentle, like a lifeline, but it sent a shiver of unease through Mel. Something was terribly wrong.

Y/N’s head snapped up at the sound of her name, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She immediately wiped at her face, but it was clear she hadn’t been able to hold it together for long, the rawness of her emotion still etched on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, her voice cracking with the weight of unspoken sorrow. She quickly tried to mask the pain in her eyes, but it was no use. She couldn't hide it from Mel.

Mel’s breath caught in her throat. She leaned closer, her voice soft, but filled with concern. “Y/N, love, no... Don’t apologize. You don’t need to hide anything from me.”

Mel gently cupped Y/N’s face, her thumb brushing away a stray tear that had fallen, while her other hand rested on Y/N’s trembling arm. The vulnerability in her lover’s eyes tore at Mel’s heart.

“What happened?” Mel asked softly, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, her touch like a balm to the raw, exposed feelings surrounding them. “You don’t have to say anything you’re not ready to, but I need you to know that you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m right here.”

Y/N sniffed, her chest tightening as she shook her head slightly. She didn’t want to say it—didn’t know how to say it—but the weight of her past was a shadow she couldn’t outrun. She hadn’t told Mel about this part of her life before, and it felt like a secret that would destroy everything if it came out. But the truth was suffocating her, pressing her to confess.

“I…” Y/N began, but the words lodged in her throat. She choked on her breath, her mind racing with the painful memories she had kept buried for so long. “I… I don’t know if I can say it. It’s just… it’s too much. I’m not strong enough.”

Mel sat down beside her, her presence a steady, unwavering comfort. She didn’t pressure Y/N, didn’t force her to speak before she was ready. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Y/N, pulling her close. Her touch was firm and safe, offering warmth and strength.

“Y/N, whatever it is, we’ll face it together. I promise,” Mel’s voice was quiet but filled with certainty, a pledge that she would never leave Y/N, not now, not ever. The words wrapped around Y/N like a shield, grounding her in the love they shared.

For a long moment, they simply sat there in silence. Y/N clung to Mel as if she were the only thing anchoring her to the present, the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to drown her. And then, finally, the truth spilled out, her voice shaky and small, as if saying it aloud would make it all the more real.

“I was… I was hurt a long time ago. By someone I thought I could trust.” Y/N’s breath hitched, and she turned her face away from Mel for a moment, ashamed of the tears she couldn’t stop. Her heart raced as she spoke, the memories still sharp and painful. “I didn’t… I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought I could bury it, but it’s not gone. It’s… it’s still here.”

Mel’s heart shattered for her, but she didn’t say a word. She simply held Y/N tighter, pressing her cheek against the top of her head. She felt the tremble in Y/N’s body, the silent sobs that wracked her form.

“You don’t ever have to face this alone, Y/N,” Mel murmured, the words both a promise and a comfort. She let her lips brush against Y/N’s hair, smoothing her fingers over the back of her head, her hands gently coaxing Y/N to let go. “I’m here. I always will be. And this, what you’re feeling? It doesn’t define you. It doesn’t change who you are. You are so strong, but it’s okay to feel broken, love. It’s okay to feel anything.”

Y/N’s body shook, the weight of everything coming to the surface. It wasn’t just the hurt of the past—it was the shame, the guilt, the sense of having lost something she would never get back. But in Mel’s arms, she felt a safe place to let go, a place where the dark corners of her mind couldn’t reach her.

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible, full of guilt and fear. “I should’ve told you before. I should’ve been stronger…”

Mel pulled back just enough to look Y/N in the eye, cupping her face gently. “No, love, you don’t have to be strong for me. You just need to be you. And you are enough. More than enough. I love you, and nothing in this world, not even your past, will change that.” Her words were firm, resolute. The sincerity in her gaze was clear, her devotion evident in every syllable.

Y/N finally let herself break. She cried freely, her tears flowing without shame, without restraint. She had carried these burdens for so long, but with Mel there, holding her, whispering comforting words, she felt a sense of relief she hadn’t known she needed.

And in that moment, Mel held her—no words needed—just the warmth of her embrace and the unspoken promise that they would heal together, one step at a time.

Mel kissed Y/N’s forehead again, her hand gently stroking her back. “You are not alone in this, Y/N. I will never leave you. Not for any reason. Not for anything.”

The weight of those words, the depth of Mel’s love, was a balm to Y/N’s soul. Slowly, the tears began to subside, but Y/N didn’t pull away from Mel. Instead, she let the quiet comfort of her presence settle in, the warmth of their connection something she could lean on as they faced the future together.

Mel stayed with her, never rushing her to stop crying, never pressuring her to move forward before she was ready. They stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the healing begin.

[madthetruemad]

fem!reader

The chances were slim, but they weren’t zero. Which was how you found it out to be true when your eyes cracked open and were immediately greeted with the blinding sunshine breaking through the cracks of the hospital windows. The flimsy curtains do little to block out the light.

And before you could register that you were, in fact, in a hospital. You heard something fall to the floor followed by a loud clatter.

“O- oh- oh my God!”

Barely being able to move your head, you watched as a nurse rushed out of the room. You wanted to see what happens next, but… the sun was too bright, and your head was hurting so bad. So, you closed your eyes in hopes that sleep would help.

However, the light still ricocheted across your eyelids, so with great effort you managed to pull the covers up. Though the covers were as flimsy as the curtains, for now, it would suffice.

Slowly now, you can feel yourself drifting back to sleep. A small smile on your features as the pain in your head started to disappear as darkness enveloped you.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, doctor. She was awake and looking at me-“

“Move! Move! Is she really awake?!”

“Soap, don’t yell in a damn hospital.”

You furrowed your brow at the different voices. You wanted to say something, snap at them to please keep quiet but… something felt off. Your mind was thinking clearly but it was as if… you were having trouble. Like something was blocking you. Opening your eyes, that was when you noticed it. You could only see out of your left eye. Where was your right? Why wasn’t it working?

You tried to think back to what landed you in the hospital in the first place, and when your brain finally supplied the memory, you resisted a groan.

You were shot in the head. In the right eyeball to be more exact. Survivability is basically none, but… it is never zero.

“Now, please understand men, she will not be going back into the field. Depending on her state a numerous of things could be wrong. For example, she could have weakness or paralysis in her left side, numbness, speech difficulties, cognitive impairments like difficulty with memory, attention, reasoning, decision-making. And of course there is memory loss, impaired speech, seizures, severe emotional distress, worsened coordination, and an altered mental state. I mean,” the doctor continued, “she was shot in the head. The fact that she even woke up so soon is a testament of itself- Hey! What are you doing-?!”

Ghost ignored the ever rambling doctor as he reached for your hand, his touch almost gentle as he took your fingers into his own and gave you a gentle squeeze.

“How are you feeling?”

When you looked up at him and registered his question you wanted to say something. Anything. But, your mouth just didn’t want to work.

“Were you not listening to the doctor,” the nurse squawked, “she probably won’t be able to-“

Good thing your mom and dad didn’t raise a quitter.

“Been better,” you manage to warble out, “head fucking hurts though. Tell the nurse and doctor to shut the fuck up already.”

You didn’t need both of your eyes to know Ghost was smiling underneath his mask.

[withjaejae]

Can I pet that dog? | JJK

Parings: Jungkook x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, oneshot, non-idol au

Basically, stranger danger

Warnings: (yes there are) do not do this in real life. Other men are not like Jungkook. Its short.

“Aren’t you handsome?” The pretty doberman pinscher who was loving the belly rubs you were giving him.

“His name is Bam.” The man on the bench with a book on his lap smiled.

“That’s a pretty name for such a good boy.” You start rubbing him with both hands. “He’s loving this.”

You finally glance at the owner and holy fuck was he hot. His sleeve tattoo, his piercings, all the way to his curly hair, his pretty pretty smile. You forget to breathe.

“I’m Jungkook.” He holds out his hand. You shake it, his firm grip making you blush.

“I’m YN. Thank you for letting me pet your dog.” You stand up and dust off your pants.

You maintain eye contact with his delicious owner.

“He has two more brothers at home. Do you want to meet them too?” His invite made you hot all over both with excitement and lust.

“Do you think I’d follow a handsome stranger to his place just to see more dogs?” He chuckles and the cutest fucking smile appears on his face.

“Do you think I’d invite a gorgeous stranger into my home just to meet my dogs?” It was your turn to smile, biting your lip to stop looking stupid.

“You could be a psycho, or worse, I could be a psycho.” You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your tits together.

“Good point. But anyone who loves dogs aren’t psychotic.” He raises an eyebrow.

“Great point.” But you’re still thinking about it.

“They’re names are Sonie and Paeng.” He really wants you over.

“Shit. I’m sold. Fuck survival skills.” You step back and gesture him to lead the way.

He stands up, much taller than you. He tugs on Bam’s leash and you walk together towards a luxury apartment building.

You exchanged information along the way, where you work, where you live, what he does, how he got Bam and his two other dogs, how much you love dogs but your apartment won’t allow it.

You finally reach his apartment and he opens the door to two more adorable sweethearts. You spend the afternoon just talking to a man you just met and his dogs.

Your phone rings breaking your conversation.

“Hey!” You greet the caller. Jungkook gestures that he’s going to the kitchen.

“Where the fuck are you?” You can hear Jimin’s frustrated voice. You check the clock and sure enough, its been over an hour above your agreed meeting time.

“Ohh shit. I’m so sorry, I’m at… a friend’s place.” You hope he cancels.

“A friend? Bitch. I’m your only friend in this damn city. Which friend?!” You can imagine his face all red and pissed, you chew your lip.

“His name is Jungkook, he has handsome dogs named Bam, Paeng, and Songie. I met them at the park while I was walking.” You hope he doesn’t give you an earful.

“You… hold up. Let me get this straight.” He sighs. “You met a man with a dog at the park earlier, and you followed him into his house?” You confirm. “YN. What the fuck?”

“Okay, he’s really hot and super nice. Let me have this.” You say in a hushed tone. Bam comes up to you and barks then proceeds to rest his head on your lap. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“At least send me your location so I know where to pick up your remains. Jesus. Have you ever heard of stranger danger?” He groans. “You’re a grown woman, let me talk to this man.”

“Do you really have to?” You whine, Jungkook comes back with some snacks and sodas in a can.

“Let me talk to him or I’m reporting you as a missinge person.” You groan at his request but do it anyway.

“My friend, Jimin, is really worried. He wants to talk to you… is that okay?” You hand the phone to him who chuckles and takes it.

They have their conversation, his answers were all ‘Yes’ and ‘Got it.’

He hands the phone back with a stupid grin. “You better make it up to me, or else.” That’s all Jimin says before he hangs up.

“What did he tell you?” You set your phone down on the coffee table and grab a fork to pick some sliced fruit.

“Nothing much. Usual warnings, and that if we do hook up, I better not yet you pregnant or he’d hunt me down and chop my cock off.” You choke on the piece of apple and he pats your back.

“Oh. God. He’s embarassing.” You hide your face in your hands.

“Its nice that he’s looking out for you.” He proceeds to tell you about embarassing stories with his friends and you exchange stories as well.

You’ve completely lost track of time and by dark, you have Songie and Paeng resting on each side of your lap, their heads on you.

“I’m surprised they warmed up to you so quick, they’re very wary of stangers.” He has bam on his lap.

“As they should.” You softly pet their heads. “They shouldn’t be like their dad who invites strangers into their homes.” You tease.

“Ah. But you’re worse for following a stranger into their home.” You wink at his rebuttal.

“Its getting late but I don’t wanna move.” You pout, looking down at the two pups. “Can I just take them home?”

“Do that and you’ll really end up dead.” He says with a stern face which breaks out into a full cackle startling the pups making them leave you two.

You smack his shoulder. “You woke them up.” You pout even harder, if that was possible.

You stand up and gather your stuff. Jungkook smiles and follows you.

“If you give me your number and let me take you to a proper date, you can see them again.” He wiggles his eyebrows and hands you his phone.

“You throw a hard bargain.” You take it anyway, you punch your number and give yourself a call so you can have his.

“How does tomorrow sound? I’ll get someone to watch the pups and we can have dinner.” He saves your number and walks you to the door.

“You move fast, Jeon Jungkook.” You raise yourself on your tip toes and land a kiss on his cheek. “I’d love that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You exit the door and he stood there grinning. He turns back to see his three babies looking at him.

“I’m so lucky to have you guys.” He drops to the floor and hugs them.

A/N: all my best ideas are made of Jungkook. Maybe its a 97’ thing. Idk. Anyways, hope you enjoyed!

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 15.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: curses, mentions of jk's unaliving attempt, explicit content: hickeys, fingering, they are so in love and can't stop saying it, unprotected sex, creampie

☆word count: 2.6k

☆a/n: i love them, and my bad if there are any typos this is heavily unedited haha let me know if you see any!

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook feels anxious. Ever since Taehyung asked him to meet up to talk, he’s been feeling incredibly anxious, like his heart might explode in his chest. Even worse - he’s afraid he’ll run into you when he gets to the apartment, and after what you said on Thursday, he thinks he might break with no way to heal if he sees you.

He’s scheduled an appointment with his therapist later today. All he can do is hope that it’ll help. And that his conversation with Taehyung will help, too.

Taehyung is in the living room when Jungkook gets home, playing on the Switch. He pauses his game the second Jungkook walks in, and they both stare at each other for a time, an uneasy silence filling the apartment.

Taehyung breaks it first. “Hey.”

Jungkook takes off his shoes but keeps his coat on as he heads towards the living room. “Hey.”

“How have you been?” Taehyung asks.

It’s awkward, and Jungkook hates it. He’s been hating way too much stuff in his life lately.

“Fine,” Jungkook replies. 

He can’t bring himself to return the question, and he sits at the other extremity of the couch, as far away from Taehyung as he possibly can.

“Listen…” Taehyung says when he realizes Jungkook won’t say anything else. “I’m sorry I punched you.” He winces as his eyes go over the bruise and wound Jungkook knows adorn his cheek. “Shit, I actually got you good.”

“You did,” Jungkook coldly replies.

Taehyung eyes his knuckles, which have also turned red and purple from the blow. “I really am sorry for that. I don’t know why I punched you, and I’m a little disgusted with myself that I did.”

“You were mad. It makes sense.”

Taehyung shakes his head no. “It doesn’t make sense. But… man, why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“Because you told me you’d kill me if I did touch her?” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Yet you still went behind my back and fucked her,” Taehyung states, a hint of anger flashing behind the words.

“I didn’t fuck your sister,” Jungkook spits. “It’s never been like that with her.”

Taehyung remains silent for a few seconds and then sighs deeply. “Then how is it?”

His tone is cool, composed, and a lot nicer than Jungkook expected it to be. It calms down the anger that was starting to simmer in his blood better than a cold shower would have.

“Wha - what?” Jungkook lets out.

Taehyung offers him a smile that seems forced, yet Jungkook sees it for what it is - he’s trying to make an effort.

“How is it with Y/n?”

Jungkook gulps, gaze widening. “Huh… well…” he trails off, eyes falling to his hands, where he’s been mindlessly pulling at the calluses he gets from working out. “It’s… great. I know she’s your sister but fuck… she’s amazing.”

“She is,” Taehyung agrees.

“But I fucked everything up in Paris when I kissed Gabrielle.”

The silence that follows is heavy, interrupted by Taehyung’s sigh what feels like an eternity later.

“Were you guys together then?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook shrugs. “We weren’t together together. But yes we were.” He pauses, and his throat is so dry it feels like sandpaper when he tries to swallow. “We started on Valentine’s Day.”

Taehyung’s nose is scrunched up, much like you sometimes do, when Jungkook looks at him. “That’s… a long time ago.”

“We ended in Paris, though,” Jungkook adds. “Except last Thursday.”

“I thought you and Lisa…” Taehyung trails off.

“It happened once last month,” Jungkook immediately explains, probably far more defensive than necessary. “And Y/n actually caught us together so… I ended things with Lisa right away.”

“I remember Lisa being pissed about it,” Taehyung admits. “But then she said that it was because of another girl, and looking back I was stupid to think it was Gaby.”

Jungkook purses his lips. “I haven’t spoken to Gaby in person since Paris. We only texted a couple of times.”

Including that one time she’d given him shit for not telling you about his promise to her.

“Right…” Taehyung trails off. He sighs, sitting back on the couch, throwing Jungkook a look. “What do you want with my sister?”

Jungkook gulps around a sudden lump in his throat. What does he want with you? He already knows, but can he tell Taehyung? Can he tell your brother that he’s so irreversibly in love with you he thinks he’s been dying since you said it was a lapse of judgment on Thursday?

That he almost died in July after he lost you?

“You want the truth?” Jungkook asks, his heart rate spiking. “I’m in love with her. I just want her to be happy, and of course I wish she’d want to be happy with me, but I don’t think that’ll happen after last Thursday.”

“You’re in love with her?” Taehyung repeats.

Jungkook gulps. “Yes.”

Taehyung nods and, to Jungkook’s surprise, taps Jungkook’s shoulder. “Noted. Come home, Jungkook. You should talk to her.”

Jungkook is stunned silent, and he just stares at Taehyung, just stares at his best friend unblinkingly, not understanding where the conversation went.

“What?”

“Come home,” Taehyung repeats. “I’m not mad at you. I was mostly mad that you both hid it from me for months, but clearly I was wrong.” He pauses, chuckles lightly. “At least that’s what Ari said. She quite literally beat some sense into me.”

So… this is it? The biggest obstacle to you and him… wasn’t even an obstacle?

“She did?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung tilts his head to the side, gaze widening as if he’s reminiscing about what happened with Ariane. “She said that I was a dick for not letting you guys figure your shit out. I think Gaby told her about the two of you.”

That would make sense, considering that the two girls are best friends. 

“Oh,” is all Jungkook manages to say.

Taehyung surveys him for a few seconds, as Jungkook’s world crumbles down around him. It’s like the floor disappeared, and he’s plummeting towards the ground with no parachute to save him.

Taehyung is not opposed to your relationship.

If you want it, Jungkook can be with you.

“So come home,” Taehyung repeats. “Talk to Y/n. Fix shit with her.” Taehyung smiles, and this time it’s fully genuine. “I just want you both to be happy.”

Jungkook nods, and he has to take a deep breath to refrain from crying then and there. “Okay.” He nods again. “Okay, I will talk to her.”

There’s a moment of silence as Taehyung just carefully observes Jungkook. Jungkook wonders, can Taehyung hear the wild beats of his heart at the perspective of talking to you?

“Can I…” Taehyung starts, and then his eyes drop to his hands in his lap. “Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s heart seems to come to a full halt in his chest. “Yeah?”

“What happened last summer…” Taehyung trails off. “Is it related to Y/n?”

A bottle of wine crashing on the pavement comes to Jungkook’s mind. But he never told Taehyung - how would he know?

“What do you mean?” Jungkook replies, pulling on his piercings.

“In July.” Taehyung sighs, meeting Jungkook’s gaze for a few seconds. “Lisa told Sera, and she told me and Jimin.”

Jungkook hates it. He hates it so much, hating the vulnerability that it imposes him.

“Ah.” He gulps, and he thinks about you for a moment.

Thinks about the fact that you were the only thing on his mind when he was so close to ending it.

“It was partly caused by losing her, yes,” Jungkook finally answers, and he’s suddenly blinking back tears.

“Fuck, JK…” Taehyung trails off. “You really should have told me about her…”

“I didn’t think you’d be… open-minded,” Jungkook says, shrugging his shoulders. “And she’d already ended things with me then.”

Taehyung nods once, and then sighs again. “Please don’t keep everything to yourself now, okay? I really don’t want you to think you’re alone. And I really don’t want you to ever feel like… that is a solution. So please talk to me, talk to Jimin whenever you need help, okay?”

Jungkook can’t speak around the lump in his throat, so all he does is nod. Taehyung understands - they’re best friends after all.

“I love you, bro,” Taehyung adds. “Please talk to Y/n.”

“I will,” Jungkook answers, his voice choked up with emotion.

All he can hope for is for you to be open to the conversation, whenever it comes. 

*****

For the first time in months, Jungkook feels at peace.

You’re here with him, and for the first time, he knows he won’t have to let go. Maybe that’s why he’s kissing you slowly, softly - you have all of eternity stretched ahead of you. Yet it seems you want more. Your kisses grow deeper, and soon his blood is pulsing at his ears, shooting down to his dick, and Jungkook pushes his tongue in your mouth.

It’s like he’s discovering you for the first time. He marvels at your sight, at your taste, at the way you moan softly against his lips. He swallows your sounds, inhales your inebriating scent, and he climbs on top of you, gently parting your legs with his knee so that he can be as close to you as possible.

He has half a thought that Taehyung is somewhere in the apartment, but the way you wrap your legs around his waist makes him forget everything until there’s just you and him.

He leaves your mouth to find your neck, his tongue darting out to taste you. A second later he’s sucking a hickey on your skin, and you moan softly, hand pulling at his hair.

“Kook,” you breathe out.

He pauses, just content with being close to you. “I love you, peach.”

Your arms wrap tightly around him, and though you have to be aware of his erection pressing against you, you both just stay there for a moment. 

“Love you too, Kook. So, so much.”

It’s the way you say the words. Jungkook immediately feels the need to be inside you, to be surrounded by you, and he kneels between your legs so that he can take off his shirt. You run a hand on his body, awe in your eyes like you, too, can’t believe you made it in the end. He takes a moment to look at you, to take in the way your eyes sparkle with emotion - with love, lust and yearning.

He loves you. And the best part about it is, you love him too.

“Fuck, peach,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”

You sit up, taking off your shirt in one swift motion that reveals so much skin - you weren’t wearing a bra - and Jungkook thinks he’ll go insane. It’s like he forgot what you looked like despite seeing you just a few days ago - it feels like a whole lifetime ago.

You’ve gained muscles over the months apart. You’re leaner, and there’s a strength to your curves that makes Jungkook’s dick twitch in his pants. The tattoo on your ribs is all too attractive too, and Jungkook takes a moment to trace it as you lie back down under his watchful gaze.

The art is beautiful. Delicate, with fine lines that have sunk perfectly in your skin. Jungkook wonders who your artist is, if they’d be able to tattoo something on him too, something to remind him of you. But then you’re whining from lack of attention, and Jungkook leans down, kissing you deeply.

You run your hands on the skin of his back, nails lightly digging in his skin, and when he grunts softly, you whisper, “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He goes fully insane. Insanely in love, perhaps. He undresses you, kissing every inch of skin revealed, and though he wants to taste you, to eat you out until you come undone on his tongue, his dick is throbbing too painfully for him to ignore it.

You’re glistening, your arousal evident the second his eyes land on you. He still takes a moment to slip two fingers inside of you as he kisses you again, swallowing your soft moans as they come. And when he thinks you’re ready, stretched enough for his dick, Jungkook takes off the rest of his clothes. His dick springs free, already rock hard like it always is with you, and he jerks himself off a couple of times as he watches you, as you watch him through half-lidded eyes.

“Condom?” he asks, though he hopes you’ll say no.

He wants to feel all of you again.

You shake your head no. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Fuck,” he curses, his dick hardening even more. “Fuck, peach, I love you.”

He comes closer, rubbing his tip on you, collecting your juices. It’s so sensitive without a condom, and he has to bite the tip of his tongue so that he doesn’t come right away. It doesn’t help that you’re so wet. That a moment later he’s slipping in, inch after inch, your walls sucking him in. 

It doesn’t help that you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows bunch together from the pleasure. You’re so hot like this, so sinfully beautiful, and some feral part of him just wants to pound into you, to fuck you until the whole neighbourhood knows that you’re his forever now.

But he tames himself, slowly pulls out before pushing all the way in again. 

“Kook,” you moan, and your hand finds one of his where it’s holding your waist. “Come close.”

You don’t have to ask twice, especially not as he wants you close, too. So he bends down, cages you between his forearms, and then he establishes a slow rhythm. Your hips lift to meet his, your walls tightening around him from the motion, and he knows he’ll come fast.

You’re too tight, too wet, for him to hold on for a long time. So he tells you how much he loves you. Whispers on your lips that he never wants to be separated from you again, that he thinks you’re the reason he’s alive. You confess your love back, tell him that he’s so worthy of your love, that you wouldn’t want anyone other than him. 

You tell him that you’ll love him when you’re old, which makes him laugh against your lips. There’s beauty in the thought, in the knowledge that he does have a lifetime with you.

“You’re…” he trails off, because he has no words to describe how amazing you are, and his dick is stealing most of the blood from his brain.

So he kisses you instead. Kisses you slow, kisses you deep, his motions growing faster until they turn sloppy, and then he pushes all the way in, his dick twitching as he unloads his cum deep inside of you. You hold him tight, pussy pulsating around him, and Jungkook’s high keeps going on and on, your lips muffling his groans and soft moans.

“I love you,” he says again when he starts being able to think once more.

He’ll never get tired of telling you.

“I love you too, Kook,” you whisper.

He’ll never get tired of hearing that, too.

Read chapter fifteen here!

☆☆☆☆☆

he is so in love with her please send help. Let me know what you think of the drabble!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[cjjohansson]

what if love isn't enough?

natasha romanoff x reader // part 1...

angst? yes. sad? yes. am i sorry? no x x x

“Were you going to tell me?” you breathe out into the room, Natasha stills when she hears your voice. 

“Tell you what?” She tries to act innocent but you know better. You won’t fall into her games right now. 

“That you're seeing some girl, some doctor in the medbay?” Natasha stays quiet, and part of you feels like you can hear your heart break. 

“Ha, ok, nice. See you around Natasha.” And now it is her turn to feel like she can hear her own heart break too. 

You and Natasha have a long history. Years of flirting turned into a one night stand, which led to multiple dates. Which then turned into a relationship that floated naturally, without one another having to say a thing, without actually having to verbalize it. You shared a bedroom; well not for about 3 months now, that’s how long it has been since you two separated over a stupid argument about how she didn't want you to go on a solo mission. Nights spent in that room worshiping each other, treating each other's wounds after a bad mission, comforting each other after horrible nightmares, sharing i love you’s…

How can you be with someone for 5 years and claim you love them so much that it hurts, to then start seeing someone only 2 weeks after breaking up? 

Because according to a conversation you overheard in medbay, they’ve been seeing each other for just under 3 months. 

You mindlessly drift through the compound, ignoring everyone who tries to speak to you, you can’t do this right now. 

How can you do this when only 5 days ago, she was in your bed breathlessly moaning your name after you both needed some comfort after a bad mission?

How could she do this? That’s all that was running through your head as you approached the punching bag in the corner of the gym. 

How could she start seeing someone so quickly after you broke up? How could she then sleep with you while seeing someone else and not even tell you? How could she rip your heart out all over again? 

You hated it. You hated how much emotional power she held over you. 

But you guessed that’s what you get for falling in love right?

“Hey.”

“Fuck off.” You huff to Bucky as he approaches the bag and holds it still, taking the force from your punches like they're nothing to him at all.

“You know…” That makes you stop. Your hands falling to your sides as you stare at him confused.

“I know what Buck?” You watch his eyes widen as he takes a step back, putting some distance between you. 

“I was going to tell you, I was, I promise you. We both just got caught up in missions and when I was here you weren't, and vice versa you know?”

“I know what James? Do not make me ask a third time!” Your anger is building, you already know the answer.

“About Nat and Dr-”

“Fuck you.” 

“Y/n…”

“NO! FUCK YOU!”

“Calm down, let me talk!” 

“No, you don't get to talk to me. You’ve been my best friend since we were 3 years old! You kept this from me! How could you! How could you…” You sob as you turn and walk out the room. You can’t be here. Your own best friend knew? Who else knew? Everyone most likely if Bucky did. 

You find yourself mindlessly drifting back through the compound, only this time no one stops to try and talk to you. You can’t imagine you look good right now, you're so close to exploding. 

You end up in your bedroom, walking into your closet to grab a suitcase from the top, dragging it to your bed as you work your way through your drawers and closet, grabbing everything and anything you could get your hands on. 

You need to leave, it is the only thing that you can actually think straight on. If you stay, you won’t survive. It’s been hard enough the past 3 months let alone knowing she is with someone new. 

“Babe…” You don't stop grabbing clothes. You don't bother to fold them, you just throw them straight into the suitcase as quickly as you can.

“Can you let me talk, let me explain.” You stay silent. You can’t even look at her right now. 

“I’m not, ugh, I’m not seeing her. I don’t know what you heard, but you know how rumors spread around here. I’m not seeing her.” You lose it. 

“You're fucking her though, right?” You turn to face her, keeping the distance between you. You're so angry, you're hurt, this is ruining you. 

“Y/n… We broke up.”

“Oh so that just makes it okay to go fuck someone days after we break up? 5 years of my life wasted for what? Did you actually ever even love me? Or did you just love the attention I gave you?” 

“That is not fair. You know I love you, I love you so deeply that it hurts, it aches. But you were the one to walk away, don't try and act like a victim here. YOU LEFT ME! You broke my heart. So you do not have the right to stand here and be upset and angry with me for doing that, when you were the one who walked away first.” That isn’t fair, that isn’t what happened at all. 

“I did NOT walk away. You gave me an ultimatum. I had to go on that mission, you knew I did-”

“YOU DIDN’T! Bucky said he would go instead! The lead up to that mission was driving you crazy, for months you had nightmares, you worked yourself to exhaustion. I tried to be there for you and you pushed me away! I stayed until I couldn't anymore! I couldn't stand by and let you ruin yourself. I left because in return it was ruining me too. Because if I stayed you would have hated me anyway.” Both of you are breathing deeply, the tension flowing around the room. How can any of this be happening? How is any of this fair to either of you?

“I love you. But you didn't love me enough to stay. So I walked away and every step I took, it fucking killed me. I stripped myself bare to you! I gave you so many parts of myself that I have never given to another person before, that I will never give to another person ever again! So yes! I slept with someone, I can hold my hands up and admit that I did. It was soon, and that was a shitting thing to do but you leaving was really fucking shitty too Y/n. I do not owe you an explanation or an apology for how I deal with my own pain, not anymore.” Natasha’s breathing picks up, tears flowing down her cheeks with no intent of stopping any time soon. 

“Natasha…”

“I am not seeing her. I slept with her once. And I have regretted it every single day since it happened. Because she isn’t you, but no one is going to be you, ever. And that’s my burden to carry.” Natasha turns to leave the room but you find yourself rushing towards the door and holding it closed before she can exit. Her back is pressed against your front and all you can smell is the perfume you bought her for valentines day. 

“Stay…”

“How can you expect me to stay when you wouldn’t?” Her forehead rests on the door as she continues to breathe deeply. Her words completely throw you. Because she is right.

“I know that mission drove me crazy, but I need you to understand that I needed to do what I had to do tasha or it would have ruined me even more. They…they ruined me, they took me apart and put me back together wrong over and over as they saw fit, day after day. I was the one who needed to finish it. Not anyone else. Because if I didn’t finish it, it would have eaten me alive for the rest of my life. That night, when I left, all I felt and saw was rage. They stole everything from me, I needed it to be over, and I’m sorry that it meant I had to leave you to be able to do that. But I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to ruin you too. I never meant for any of this Natasha. Believe me when I say that, please.” Your voice cracks as you rest your forehead on the back of her head. Your tears falling into her hair, you can feel her body moving from her own sobs. 

“I know you didn’t. I didn’t either but we both did. How can we even move forward from this Y/n?” She turns in your hold, your forehead now resting on hers and you stare into each other's red eyes. 

“I love you. After all this time, I still love you. It’s always been you, it was you yesterday, it was you 2 months ago, a year ago. It is you today, it will be you tomorrow and for the rest of my life it will be you, I love you Natasha.” 

Her hand moves to your face, your own head leaning into her palm as she takes the weight of it. 

“But what if love isn’t enough y/n?”

part 2

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddie-spooktober day 4: corn maze | G | wc: 1,147

uhhh i know i'm the one who came up with the corn maze prompt.. but hay bales suited this story better 🧍‍♀️

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Where the hell is that kid?”

“Probably back there where I said we should’ve gone left.”

“You go find him then if—” Steve cuts himself off when he comes face to face with another dead end. The stack of hay bales mock him. “Alright. You know what, fine. I give up.”

“You give up.”

“I give up.” Steve plops down onto a pile of stray straw at the base of the five-bale-tall wall.

“That’s not the Harrington I know.” Eddie says, a smirk in his voice.

“Yeah, well, if this was a corn maze like they normally have every year, I’d just walk through the walls to the center. But no. They just had to have a crazy amount of hay this year, didn’t they?”

Eddie laughs at him, the bastard. Steve takes a second to glare furiously at him. It’s almost enough to kill off the unforeseen crush he’d developed on their newest party member, but even now, Eddie’s frustrating and frustratingly good looking.

The cold has brought some prickles of pink to his cheeks, the wind that would flood down on them whenever they’d turned down a parallel leg of the maze having done wonders to his hair, the exasperated smile he’s currently sporting.. Damn him and damn his pretty.. everything.

“Who would’ve thought that Captain of every team he’s on Harrington would only ever be a bad sport when it comes to harmless, family fun mazes.”

“...I’m not directionally gifted. Shut up.”

“Do you want me to take the lead, or do you actually want me to leave you here in the dirt?” Eddie holds out a hand for him to take.

Steve has no choice but to take it.

“Damn, your hands are cold!” Eddie says, pulling him up, “Alright sweetheart, you hang onto that, and I’ll get us out of here.”

Some of the heat that Steve could have routed down to his hand floods into his face instead.

Eddie stands still, almost frozen, for a few seconds, then says, “Right.” and starts pulling Steve along the way they came.

One right, two lefts, and one more right after that, and they break into the large, sunny center of the maze.

“Surprise!!” The entire rest of the party is there already, waiting for them with grins on their faces. “Happy Birthday Steve!"

He has to fight the urge to pinch at the bridge of his nose as the group surge forward toward them.

“We got you a birthday doughnut!” Robin says, holding up a small paper plate with a sugar-crusted doughnut on it; a single candle is wedged into a glazed doughnut hole that’s been smushed into the center of the other. The flame gets gusted out by the wind as she passes it to him. “Whoops..”

“I brought a canteen full of hot cider!”

“There are presents too, ours was Mike’s idea.” El’s comment surprises him, and Mike is already looking away from him pointedly when he glances over at him.

“The maze thing was Eddie’s idea!”

“Hey, the whole thing was Eddie’s idea, Henderson. Give him some credit.” Eddie says, pointing accusingly at Dustin.

Steve turns to raise an eyebrow at Eddie.

“How was I supposed to know that mazes are the one thing you’re bad at?” he says in a mock affronted tone.

Everyone laughs, and are soon piping up to tell their own stories of trying to get through from the other side.

“Dustin got all claustrophobic like, two minutes in, and it actually made him get through it faster.” Mike teases, poking Dustin in the side.

“I wish it was corn like last year, I would’ve gotten through in half the time.” Lucas grouses. (“That’s what I said!” Steve says, gesturing heartily at Lucas.)

“Me, Max, and Erica were the first ones through, it was so easy.” Robin says, “I thought we’d have to eat all the doughnuts to survive.”

They hang out in the center for a while, and it isn’t until he goes to reach for another pumpkin spice doughnut, pulling his hand from Eddie’s to do so, that he realizes Eddie was still holding his hand, thumb running idly back and forth across his knuckles the whole time.

Maybe Steve’s not the only one with a crush after all…

“Alright, ready Eddie?” Steve says once all the baked goods are gone and the presents (a sweater from the boys, a mini leather bound journal from Robin, a hefty handful of new pins for his work vest from the girls, and a new walkman from Hopper and Joyce) are packed away back into Will’s backpack. He stands up and starts doing some useless stretches, his arms, his calves, jogging in place.

“For what?! Are we running a marathon next? ‘Cause I gotta tell you Stevie, I may do a lot of running, but that doesn’t mean I’m good at it.”

“Nope, for my redemption arc. I’m leading us back out. And I won’t get lost this time.”

“Sure you won’t, Dingus.” Robin says, standing too and grabbing their trash. “See you boys on the other side.”

The party all tear out at the same time, splitting in half and timing their exits to go back through opposite sides, something about the winning half getting some sort of prize. Hopper and Joyce similarly split, a dinner date on the line for the winner.

“Alright Munson. Eyes closed, hand out.” Steve says once they reach the break in the wall too.

“Ooh, bossy. I like that.” he says, smirking at the eye roll Steve gives him as he squashes his eyelids shut.

Steve’s cold-ass fingers lace through his, not at all the platonic grip he’d had on Steve’s the last time.

They turn and weave and wind through the walls, and soon, as the drone of the crowds filter out, Eddie can tell Steve’s gotten them lost once again.

“There. Think this is good enough.” Steve murmurs, and before Eddie can ask what he means by that, Steve has pulled him sharply around, spinning him and pressing him back into the prickly wall of hay.

Eddie’s eyes fly open in surprise when his back hits the bales, but closes them again in the next second when Steve’s lips connect with his.

Funnily enough, they’re warmer than Eddie’s, and the press of them makes his stomach swoop almost violently.

Too soon, way too soon, Steve is pulling back. “You planned a surprise for me.” he breathes.

“Robin helped.” Eddie breathes dumbly in return.

Steve snorts, pushing closer to him, “I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Uh huh.”

He leans closer, gaze hooded. “That okay?”

“More than.”

Steve tastes like cinnamon sugar, and suddenly it’s the best flavor in the world.

(“Okay, you can lead us back out now.” Steve says, after ten minutes spent warming his hands on the skin of Eddie’s torso.)

divider from @saradika-graphics!

[sweetcherriexs]

die; b.e.

Ever feel like you’ve done absolutely nothing right in your life? Like anything you did, said or thought was wrong. You couldn't ever do anything right. Like you were never meant to feel okay. Like every single thing you’ve ever accomplished was… out of pure pity from God? 

It’s the worst fucking feeling.

You can’t be dead because that’s unfair to people who love you. You can’t be dead because you’d seem pathetic. You can’t be dead because you’re a fucking coward. 

But you can’t exactly be alive either because why the fuck did you exist? Like genuinely… why on earth were you born? If only to suffer and suffer until you finally break down and crumble.

You’re too selfless for your own good but you’re also the most selfish person on earth. You don’t deserve the love you receive. You don’t deserve anything good because the moment you have it, it’s right in your hands and then your drop it, scrambling to catch it but you’re too late and now it’s broken and you’ve lost it.

No one believes you when you tell them you’re a bad person. No… how could they? You’re so sweet, aren’t you? So loving and sweet and kind, huh?

But nobody sees or hears the thoughts in your head. God you’re a horrible person. You fuck up everything, every good thing coming your way because you too damn desperate to be loved. But you don’t get it, do you? Nobody will ever love you. You’ll always doubt every ‘I love you’ said to you. You’ll never feel the love that is given to you and it rips you apart from the inside out but there is nothing you can do.

You’ve given up. There is no escape. Only acceptance that you’re broken. And you can’t be fixed. But do you even want to be fixed? Do you want to be okay? Will anyone care when you’re finally okay? Will you be able to love as hard when you’re okay?

Will you want to live? Will you be able to confidently admit that you don’t want to take your last breath? You don’t know and it scared you.

Maybe you’re getting worse and worse on purpose. You’re doing this to yourself so you get attention from people that are just trying to survive. God, why can’t they just hate you? Hate you so you don’t have to explain the mess that is in your head. It’s such a dark place and most of the time you just wanna take a gun and pull the trigger. God, it would feel so good. To you…

But what about the people you’ve fooled? What about them? How will they know your true self? Who you really are and what’s really going through your mind every second of the day.

There were so many times you’ve thought you’re getting better, but, no, it was just another person your heart longed for that you've fooled because they cared…. They loved you and-

“Hey, babe” 

Your head shot up from staring at the ground, your fingers stopping their fidgeting on your lap as you’re met with your girlfriend’s eyes staring at you. 

“You okay?” 

You stayed silent for another second before breathing out. “Yeah uh… I’m fine” 

Billie swallowed harshly at your vague answer and pursed her lips. “Mrs. Harris called” She mumbled, sitting beside you on the sofa with a sigh. “Said you haven’t been going to your sessions” 

You took in a sharp breath then looked at her. “Yeah… I don’t need them” 

She looked at you with soft eyes and you wanted to puke. PLEASE PLEASE DONT FUCKING PITY ME. Your throat closed up and you looked away from her, squeezing your hands into fists. 

“Baby…” Billie starts but you cut her off.

“I can’t be fixed, Billie. I’m past fucking repair” You muttered harshly “honestly I don’t even know why you care!” 

Billie straightened up at your words with a frown on her face. “The fuck? I care because I love you!” You let out a loud scoff at her words and shook your head. “What? What now?” Billie grumbled.

“You don’t love me! You say you do because you want me to be okay but I’m never gonna be okay! I don’t want to be okay!”

Billie froze, staring at you with disbelief etched on her face.

“Just go! Leave me before I rope you into my endless hurt and suffering!”

“Baby, I’m not gonna-” 

“I said fucking go!” You shouted, bringing your knees up to your chest and curling into a ball and you screwed your eyes shut.

Billie pressed her lips together as she looked at you. She felt her chest tighten and her eyes watered. She moved closer to you. “Don’t do this…. You’re gonna be okay, okay? I’m here, my love” She placed a head on your back and your whole being broke at the soft touch, sobs rocking your body. “Sh sh sh” She shushes you gently, grabbing your shoulders and bringing you to face her.

“I know, baby, I know. It hurts I know, don’t listen to those thoughts, okay? Just feel my love for you” She murmured, bringing you to her chest as she stroked your back. You sobbed and gripped her shirt in your hands.

“I–.. d-don’t-.... deserve—..” 

Billie soothed you once more, pressing her lips to the crown of your head as her own tears fell on your hair. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that” She whispered, her voice breaking as she held your shaking body in her arms. “I love you, I love you so much” She lets out.

And though she said it… you couldn’t believe her. You wanted to. Oh if only anyone knew how bad you wanted to but you just couldn’t. It hurt your chest and you couldn't breathe.  

She doesn’t care

She doesn’t love you

She hates you

God she hates you so much

She wants you gone

You're a burden to her

A broken thing she has to take care of

You should just kill yourself

You shouldn’t be alive

You don’t deserve this beautiful life

You don’t deserve her care

You don’t deserve her love

Why can’t you just die?

[bullet-prooflove]

For Carmy Berzatto

Injury + Cheerful + Community?

Tagging: @wabi-sabi1090 @kmc1989 @turtle-cant-communicate @fallout-girl219 @morgthemagpie

Companion piece to:

The Farm - Carmy recalls the day you met.

Good People - Richie and Carmy discuss a potential relationship with you.

Pears - It starts when Carmy makes an order he doesn't remember.

Something Important - Carmy knows the two of you have something important together.

Mornings - Carmy sleeps better with you around.

Bubble - You have no idea that you saved Carmy's life.

Crazy, Stupid, Fucked Up World (NSFW) - Carmy tells you he lvoes you for the first time.

Doing Something - Carmy owns up to something he's been doing without telling you.

When Carmy hears about the accident at the farm, his heart stops. He’s in the middle of dinner service, surveying the plates for Table Seven when Sugar rushes in with that tone in her voice, the same one she had when he told him Mikey died. His world falls apart in that moment and he reverts back to his old patterns.

He doubles down on the work, firing off orders, getting plates out that door, because it’s the only thing that makes sense to him, the only thing that stops the terror from suffocating him.

When Sugar tries to pull him away, to get him to go see you at the hospital he brushes her off. This is where he needs to be right now, making sure everything flows just the way it needs to.

It’s then she gets Richie. Richie who knows just how hard it is to love again after you’ve been torn apart, how frightening it can be, how overwhelming. Carmen tries to block him out, to focus on his tasks but Cuz he’s persistent, he always has been, it’s the reason Carmen both loves and hates him.

It gets into a fight, shouting at first and then physical. Carmen shoving at Richie because he just wants him to fuck off and Richie, grasping Carmen to him, holding him because this violence right now, it comes from fear. The fear of losing the person you love, the fear of being shattered all over again.

“If you don’t to this.” Richie tells him, his grip on the back of Carmen’s neck tightening as the other man tries to fight him. “If you’re not there for her when she needs you, you’re going to destroy that thing that you love and you will hate yourself for it, you will regret it every damn day of your life.”

All of that aggression, it drains from him then and he finds himself clinging to Richie, his fists bunching the fabric of his suit jacket as his body begins to tremble.

“I’m scared.” He whispers unable to force the rest of the words out. “I can’t…”

He can’t lose anyone else. He simply won’t survive it.

“I know.” Richie murmurs. “But she’s scared too and sometimes it’s a little easier when you’re scared together.”

He’s still a wreck when he turns up at the hospital. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket so the nurse he speaks to can’t see them shaking. She’s alarmingly cheerful as she dictates your condition.

A broken arm, a concussion, a couple of fractured ribs.

They’re keeping you in overnight for observation.

When he’s escorted to your room, the relief he feels is palpable because you may be a little battered, a little bruised but you’re still here, still with him and in that moment that’s all that matters.

You’re sleeping when he approaches the bed, your face tilted towards him, your hair falling across your features. He uses his fingertips to tuck an errand strand back behind your ear and you start to stir under his touch.

“Hey.” He says softly, his thumb tracing gently over the apple of your cheek.

“Hey.” You whisper back, your lips brushing over the palm of his hand. “You came.”

“Yea.” He says, his voice breaking as his eyes meet yours. “I’m really fucking glad I did.”

Love Carmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[cassiebones]

I don't think Agatha willingly gave up her son and here's why:

Her reaction to the Darkhold in the cradle was visceral, okay? I just reblogged the post that even says that's not the reaction of a woman who willingly gives up her child. So I don't think she did.

What I think is that Nicholas got sick. Like really, really sick. So sick that there was no way he was going to get better. Maybe Rio was warning her about it. Maybe Rio was trying to set the expectation that hey, Nicholas isn't going to get better, you should prepare yourself for that, but Agatha ignored it. Agatha figured that she's in a relationship with Death, herself, so there's no way that her son is going to die and be taken away from her. But Rio keeps reminding her "I don't want to do this, but it's my job. I can't chose not to."

And Agatha gets desperate. As she's watching her baby boy get sicker and weaker. I'm not totally sure how old he was when he died. I'm imagining him as a baby or toddler. A size that Agatha can still hold in her arms. Maybe he won't eat anymore and it worries her. And she knows that the only way to make him better, the only chance at keeping her son, is by getting her hands on the Darkhold. Dark magic is the only thing that can keep him with her, alive.

Rio, obviously, advises against this. Dark magic is trouble and Agatha will not be the same if she does this. Agatha ignores her. She makes a coven and forces Rio down The Road with her, begging her to help save her son. Rio, loving Agatha so deeply, agrees, and they set off down the Witches' Road.

The other three witches obviously don't make it, as we know. The other witch who survives (of course bc she cannot die) is Rio. Agatha acquires the Darkhold and rushes back to her son's side.

But she's too late. Nicholas is gone. He died while she was on the road. He was alone in his last moments, probably in his bassinet. Agatha missed it in her ambition to get her hands on the Darkhold. She probably will never forgive herself for it.

Rio felt the second he died, but probably didn't tell Agatha because there was nothing they could have done at that point.

Agatha is resolute, though. She starts looking for a resurrection spell for Nicholas, which Rio panics about because that is not what Agatha wants, she tells her. Nicholas won't come back right. He will never truly be alive. He will be a corpse, reanimated. His soul is already departing.

"Not if you don't let it," Agatha says, because Rio is in charge of reaping the souls, of ferrying them to the afterlife. She's Death, after all.

"It doesn't work like that," Rio says, softly and apologetically, reaching out to stroke Agatha's cheek. Agatha slaps her hand away and continues to frantically search through the book, but Rio can't let this happen. Nicholas would never be right. He wouldn't be the boy Agatha--that both of them love. Never again.

So she reaps his soul, takes it away before Agatha can start her spell. Agatha begs her to stop, to let her have her son, to not do this please.

"If you love me, you won't take him away from me," she says, desperate and angry and so, so hurt.

Rio doesn't look back. She's holding Nicholas's soul in her arms, cradling him because he's 100% her son, too. Her baby. She holds him more tightly.

"I'm doing this because I love you," she says, without looking back. She keeps walking while Agatha wails behind her, Rio fighting back tears as she listens to her wife's heart break.

Rio tries to return after reaping her son's soul, wants to apologize and beg at Agatha's feet for forgiveness...but she's not there.

Before, Rio could have found Agatha anywhere. She always knew where she was, like a homing beacon on her heart. But now Agatha is just...gone. The home they once shared together is completely empty, not a soul or piece of furniture in side. Except for Nicholas's bassinet, empty. She can't feel Agatha anymore. She doesn't know if she's alive or dead, but she's pretty sure she knows why.

The Darkhold. Agatha used a spell in the Darkhold to shroud herself from Death, to keep Rio from finding her again. Grief echoes in Rio's heart at the loss of the two most important people in her life. Then anger begins to burn low in her stomach.

Anger at her job. Anger at the Darkhold. Anger at Agatha. Murderous rage takes root in her chest, where her heart used to beat for Agatha Harkness and their son. Both are gone now.

But she will find Agatha. One day. And she is going to kill her...or make her wish she were dead. Either will suffice at this point.

[declareqenius]

all the ashes in my wake

summary: part two of "some would sing and some would scream". wanda and natasha have several heated conversations while they wait for you to wake up. it's been days and both of them miss hearing your voice, and they know the last thing you would want to see is them fighting, but wanda can't help tearing into natasha for everything that happened. natasha's guilt eats away at her.

warnings: mentions of the violence in pt 1, coma

a/n: guys i really just wanted to get this one out. i haven't read through it/edited it so any mistakes are... well, mistakes. but hey! we get wanda in this one! i feel like i could have gone a little darker as far as wandanat are concerned, but we do what we can! i hope you enjoy!

The infirmary room is cold and sterile and a heaviness settles over the exhausted woman. Wanda keeps hold of your hand as if letting it go means that you'll slip away for good. She's careful of the IV stuck in the back of your hand giving you fluids. In a way, it serves as a reminder that blood still flows through your veins and your heart still beats, and that even though your bright smile and musical laugh don't fill the room, you're still alive.

Wanda brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. She doesn't know how many times she has done that in the past three days, but the gesture comforts her. Tucking your hair behind your ear so she can see your beautiful face better and looking into your sparkling eyes is one of her favorite things to do. Your gaze holds so much love and adoration and it always makes her wish she would never have to live without it.

Your eyes are closed now.

Wanda hates every second of it.

Bruce said that even if you don't respond that you can still hear everything. Wanda trusts that he's telling the truth and it wasn't something he said just to make her feel better.

So she talks to you. About anything and everything she can think of. Your favorite TV show that is on the air right now or the book that you recommended and she finally read. How much she loves you and how she can't wait for you to wake up. How sorry she is that she wasn't there sooner. She makes promises that she intends to uphold. Ones about revenge and torture and everything you would hate and tell her not to worry about were you conscious. Wanda smiles at the thought. She won't listen, though. The Celestials hurt her family. Hurt the love of her life. She can't let that go unanswered for.

Right now, though, you are her priority.

The door handle clicks and Wanda doesn't need to look up. She knows it's Natasha coming back from telling Steve and Yelena what happened. Can feel the exhaustion and guilt dripping from her without having to so much as glance in her direction.

"Wands-"

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Natalia. Sit."

Wanda nods to the unoccupied chair on the other side of the bed without taking her eyes off of you. She's being harsh and she knows it. Natasha was there with you. Right by your side. Made to watch as the leader of their enemies hurt you in the most sloppily calculated way. She was powerless against Najma and Wanda knows this, but all rationality left her when she burst into the cell and laid eyes on your bleeding body, slumped over, barely an ounce of life in you, and her anger nearly consumed her.

She almost leveled the entire block.

The only thing that stopped her was Natasha, carrying you in her arms, reminding her that time was scarce.

So yes, perhaps she is being too harsh with her wife, but somehow you had become their entire lives. Their reason for being. Neither of them would know what to do without you, and they came very close to losing you under Natasha's watch.

They will be okay eventually. They survived many fights and many arguments before you came along.

Tears form in Wanda's eyes.

"Yelena is wondering when she'll be able to see Y/N." Natasha's voice breaks the silence. It's rough and scratchy.

"After she wakes up."

Four words and Wanda can feel how they form on her tongue. Her Sokovian accent is thick with her anger and distress despite the words being spoken soft and firm.

"Wanda," Natasha starts to protest but the finality in her wife's tone makes her go quite.

"Nat."

It's then that Wanda decides to look up at Natasha. Decides to let her wife see her and every emotion that makes its way onto her face and every thought that swirls around in her mind.

Natasha pauses for a moment, taken aback by everything she sees her wife going through. The made-up scenarios. The what-ifs. She knows because she went through every last one of them when she was in that cell with you. To see the same thoughts cluttering Wanda's mind, well, it only makes her guilt worse.

She clears her throat, "Yelena is her best friend."

It comes out as more of a fact than an argument.

At that, Wanda turns her attention back to you, "I don't want anyone except for us and Bruce to see her like this. They don't need to."

"They want to know that she's okay, Wands."

"Tell them that she is. That she will be. That's all they need to know for right now. They need to focus on getting the jump on Najma and the Celestials. Our focus is Y/N. I think our family is capable enough to come up with a plan by themselves, don't you?"

Wanda's calmness is starting to make Natasha uncomfortable and she shifts in her chair. She refuses to touch you, though, afraid of what might happen if she did. Would your body crumble under her fingertips? If you were conscious would your body recoil at her touch? For letting you get hurt. For not protecting you like she should have.

Suddenly streams of tears silently make their way down Natasha's cheeks.

"I'm sorry I let this happen."

Wanda's eyes meet hers again and Natasha feels like she can breathe a little easier. It isn't perfect and she guesses it won't be perfect for a long time, but time will help. The fear will linger within both of them because Natasha knows Wanda almost as well as she knows herself, and she knows that neither of them will be letting you out of their sight for a while after you wake up. Until Najma is taken care of, at least.

Wanda tilts her head as she tries to get a better read on Natasha without using her powers. Even if they would help in the moment she has rules for herself: never on Natasha and never on you.

"They caught you off guard. It is a hard position to be in, radnaja."

Darling. The pet name helps Natasha relax a little more, but her hands stay folded in her lap.

"We needed- I needed to protect her better. We promised to keep her safe and I couldn't do that, Wands. I failed her and I disappointed you and... and what if she decides to leave when she wakes up? I would be the reason we came so close to losing her... and then to actually lose her? I don't know if we could survive it."

"Nat... Y/N loves us with everything she is. Just as we love her. I need you to be confident in that."

Natasha wants to scoff but instead she fidgets with her hands, "Confident? In what, Wanda? That she'll wake up and we'll pretend everything is fine and that we're not the reason she almost fucking died?! That the two people she loves most in the world couldn't protect her like they promised they would? I was powerless Wanda! I couldn't stop them! I-" Natasha's tears flow freely and although the tension in the room is building, she feels safe enough to let herself go in the presence of her wife, "I couldn't save her!"

"Natalia Romanova-Maximoff!" Wanda stands for the first time in hours but she does not drop your hand. It's the only thing grounding her right now. "This is not entirely your fault, radnaja. Maybe if you would have kicked and punched more when they took you then we would be in a different position. Maybe if you had given Najma the answers she was looking for then Y/N wouldn't have been injured as badly as she is but these are all what-ifs, Natasha! What if I had been there with her instead? What if I had been with both of you that night? What if I would have gotten to you sooner? What if she had died!"

Finally, the question that has been on both of their minds since Bruce had walked into the meeting room with your blood all over his neatly ironed button up and jeans- he didn't have time to even think about putting his lab coat on- and told them that you would eventually be okay.

"I have been asking myself that question every day for the past three days," Wanda finishes, salt on her tongue, nose red, and her scarlet hoodie stained with tears.

Natasha cannot find it within herself to tell her wife the new information Bruce gave her in the meeting. While he operated and stitched until he could barely stand any longer; you flatlined once. Your heart decided to give up for a minute and Natasha hasn't had the proper amount of time to process something like that, but the time would never come for Wanda to be able to process the reality of such a thing.

Both women stare down at you with puffy eyes and red noses. You are the most precious thing in the world to them. They hate seeing you so lifeless, and the only wave of hope keeping them afloat is your steady breaths.

The fight has left both of them, but an air of tension remains. They are nowhere near finished with their conversation. With taking their frustrations out. Hopefully they'll have everything figured out before you wake up. Natasha knows how much you hate playing peacemaker when they actually have fights and really get going at each other, but she also knows that her wife can hold a grudge.

She doesn't think Wanda will actually hold a grudge after you wake up, but for now her anger and grief towards Natasha are the only things emotionally anchoring her to reality.

"I miss her, Wands," Natasha sniffs and wipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Me too, Natalia. Me too."

They sit in silence for a minute, taking everything in. There are no windows in the room and during the day that means zero sunlight. You always say that time in the sun is one of the most important parts of your daily routine, and it always helps you cool down when you're stressed out or in a bad mood.

Natasha is the first to break the silence, speaking directly to you.

"You are going to hate this room so much when you wake up, detka," she muses with the smallest smile.

Wanda only glances at her before turning her attention back to you and sitting down in her chair, trapped in her mind just as Natasha is, but not all hope is lost and for that, the older woman is grateful.

"Believe it or not, she was the calm one. During everything."

"Natasha."

Her name is said softly although there is still a warning behind it, but she needs this and she believes that Wanda does too. Even if she doesn't know it yet.

"Please, Wanda."

Wanda just sighs and nods, never taking her eyes off of you.

"Najma had me struggling within ten minutes. Begged her to take me instead and to let Y/N go. I don't know why I thought it would work, but I think I just wanted Y/N to know that even if I couldn't get us out of there in that moment... I was trying. I would keep trying."

Natasha's voice is still scratchy as her exhaustion slowly catches up with her.

"Y/N was so firm with me. She said not to tell Najma anything and she meant it. I don't think I've ever heard her be that direct before, but she left no room for argument. She knew what the information would do to the family because she... she sees us as her family, Wands." The redhead sniffs and wipes at her eyes when her tears return, making a prominent trail down her cheeks.

"We are all she has left and she means the world to us! And... and I let her down so much. So, so much, Wanda. She stayed so calm! She did so good! She talked to Najma. She had a conversation with the woman who had a knife to her cheek!" Natasha's laugh is reserved, but her features are shock-ridden and amazed, bordering on flabbergasted and anxiety-filled.

Wanda finally looks up at her wife. Natasha is starting to spiral and there is no way to stop it other than just letting her get it all out, so the Sokovian keeps listening to and watching her wife. The recount of events is told with animated hand gestures and tears gliding down Natasha's cheeks, and Wanda's heart clenches.

"We were doing so well. She was doing so well. Then, Najma stabbed her and my heart dropped. I thought it was over. I thought we had lost her for good." The hand gestures come to an abrupt halt and the tension in the room is once again palpable, but not so much as before.

Natasha looks down at you with pleading eyes, "Please forgive me, malyshka," she drops to both knees and finally takes your hand in hers and whispers, "please."

She kisses the back of your hand delicately and you can feel each tear drop as they land in the exact spot she kissed. There is no need to wonder why your girlfriend is crying. You remember everything.

Your eyes slowly blink open to see Natasha's own eyes closed and Wanda staring at her wife with a thoughtful expression. The love they have for each other makes you want to smile, but the urge to reassure your sobbing mob boss girlfriend wins.

"I..." talking hurts but you need to say the words. Natasha needs to know! "Forgive... you. Always... Natty."

[sports-on-sundays]

Oh...! Maybe you can make a part 2 of the fic Mama's Boy when they're on date or make a new one with the same trope because this is so cute and I can't stop reading it! 😆

mama's boy / Héctor Fort / Part 2

Summary: Héctor x best friend!reader - Héctor takes you on both of your first dates, his clear, awkward, huge crush on you funnily apparent. Link to Part 1!

Requested?: Yes! Thank you!

"...Héctor...?!" Lamine suddenly says louder, gently slapping Héctor's shoulder, snapping Héctor out of his deep thoughts. "Did you just hear any of what I just said?" the seventeen-year-old asks in slight exasperation.

"Uh... yeah, of course," Héctor replies, looking at the younger guy like a deer in headlights.

"Then what was it?"

Héctor sighs. "Alright. Maybe I didn't hear you. Sorry. What was it?"

Lamine shakes his head. "It doesn't really matter. Not really, in any case. But what's your problem lately, man?"

"What do you mean?" Héctor asks a bit too defensively and quickly.

"I don't know. It just seems like you're always zoned out and stuff. Is there anything going on?"

Héctor sighs, shaking his head, standing up to go. "No, no, it's nothing. Just got a lot on my mind. Anyway, I've got to go now. Bye, Lamine!" and he leaves before the boy can press him any more on the subject.

Because the truth is, he does have something on his mind. Something really big. And he hasn't been able to get it off his mind literally all week.

But it'd be awkward to tell Lamine the thing that's making him literally check out of conversations is all centered around a girl. And if Héctor knows Lamine enough, he also knows Lamine would never let him live that down.

Well, tonight is his date with you. Ever since he asked you out about five days ago now, at your house, in your room, all he can focus on are the nerves of that. You, the girl he's known for years, the girl that's always been so close yet so untouchable. He is taking you out on a date.

And you actually like him back.

Just the thought of that makes his chest tighten. How on earth is he going to survive a date with you, no matter how excited he is for it?

"You've been awfully quiet this car ride," Héctor's mama says in the car seat next to him.

Héctor sighs, shrugging. "Yeah, I guess so..."

"Aren't you excited for your date?" his mama says kind of teasingly, giving him a little nudge.

"Of course! I guess I'm just..." he trails off.

"You're just a bit nervous, but that's something you'd never admit to anyone out loud, huh?"

Héctor just smiles awkwardly, shrugging, and lets his silence be the answer to that question. After a few seconds, he sighs, unbuckling his seat belt, and saying, "I just hope I don't screw it all up."

"Hey, trust me, Héc. Look here for a second," his mama says.

He looks up, meeting his eyes. "Yeah. What?"

"You won't screw it up. I'm sure it'll go great. You've known that girl since you were both born. And I have, too, by the way. And if there's one thing I can tell, it's this: she likes you just as much as you like her. She's just less of an awkward idiot about it!" His mama laughs, giving him a little pat on the shoulder.

"Hey!" Héctor snaps back, unable to keep the smile from breaking out on his face at the tease from his mama.

She gives him a little pat, saying, "There's my boy's real smile. Now, go on, and have fun, Héc!"

He smiles and nods, getting out of the car, feeling a lot better than before.

Héctor replayed this scene in his head over and over, all week, perfecting it every time, until he was sure what he would do and say, in order to be perfectly smooth and charming, without being too corny, either.

The scene where you would walk up to him, and he'd take you inside the restaurant, and you'd sit down, and it would all go just the way he wants it to.

But all the sudden, as he sees you walking towards him, he feels his heart begin to pound in his chest, and the moment you reach him and say happily, "Hey, Héctor!" all other thoughts and plans of what he would say next fly right out of his head.

His mind goes blank, and instead of the smooth comment he thought he'd make right here, he just smiles stupidly and says, "Hi. I'm glad you came!"

You smile softly. "Well, I am, too. Let's go inside."

So the two of you walk in, and Héctor internally beats himself up at how much he's 'already messed up.' At least according to himself, that is.

So in an effort to fix his mistakes, as the two of you are escorted to your table, he suddenly gently slips his hand into yours and looks at you with a sweet little smile.

You smile back, blushing a bit, and squeeze his hand gently.

That's when he blurts, "You look really good today. I mean, like... I mean, you look beautiful... Uhm..." he clears his throat. "You look good every day, obviously, I mean. I just mean to say... you look especially pretty today."

You smile, feeling how awkward he's being. But regardless, you think it's cute. He's cute. And he's being sweet. So you say simply, "Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself." You can tell he's tried to look his best for this. His clothes are perfectly ironed, his shoes clean, every hair on his head perfectly in place. You can't help but smile softly when you think about the effort he must've put into all that as you both sit down across from each other.

You both begin looking over the menu, and as you do this, you say with a little smile, after you catch him giving you little glances for the fourth time, "You really like me, don't you?"

He smiles a bit and says, "There's a lot to like about you." Finally! Something that was at least half-smooth! his brain screamed, like as if he'd just scored the winning goal. Which is actually quite funny, considering the situation itself.

You smile and say, putting a hand to your chest, "Why, thank you!"

And he grins back at you, his eyes softening in some sort of deep affection that further tells you just how down bad he is for you.

"So, what are you going to get?" Héctor asks, beginning the small talk of the night, which, honestly, you're thankful for.

As the date goes on, though, you both settle into being more and more comfortable with each other, until it seems at the end you've both forgotten this was supposed to be any different than any other time you've just hung out and had fun with each other.

Until the time for you both to get going is nearing, and suddenly Héctor, apparently getting a newfound spark of confidence, reaches across the table to take your hand in his own. You look up, watching him inhale slowly, before meeting your eyes with his own and saying in a gentler, more serious tone than the teasing one that had lingered most of the evening between the two of you: "So... have you liked it?"

You smile as each of your hands seem to naturally entwine in each other's. "Liked what?"

"Tonight. Our date."

You beam. "Oh, Héctor, I've just loved it."

"Really?" he asks, his eyes sparkling.

"Don't you know that any time I get to spend with you is amazing? Come on now, Héctor," you gently tease.

He beams back at you, squeezing your hand.

That's when you finally feel comfortable enough to ask the unabating question that's been on your mind all week: "Héctor... how long have you liked me...? You know, in this way."

He seems hesitant. Maybe slightly taken off guard. But he doesn't let go of your hand, and after some silence, finally responds with, "The truth is, it's been longer than I've even known."

You can't help but laugh a bit at that, maybe a little nervously, saying, "What does that mean?"

Héctor smiles softly. "It means that I'm starting to think I've felt like this towards you for years. Like, at least five."

Your eyes widen at that as your heart rate begins to quicken. "Oh... my goodness, Héctor, that's so sweet...!" It really is. Hearing those words from him is so... touching.

He smiles awkwardly, glancing away from your gaze, before asking, "How long have you liked me? I mean, you do like me, right?"

"Héctor! Of course I like you! I like you a lot!" you exclaim, liking the way he happily looks back up at that. "I mean, I guess it hasn't been as long as you, but I've probably liked you for, like, at least eighteen months now."

He seems to be satisfied with hearing that, and says, "It kind of seems perfect, doesn't it?"

"What does?" you ask, your expression softening further.

"The way we've known each other... forever. Our families love each other, we have the same interests, we know all the little things about each other. It's almost as if..."

"...we're meant to be?" you finish after he trails off.

His eyebrows happily shoot up. "How'd you know that's just what I was going to say?"

You chuckle. "I guess we're just on the same wavelength, too, on top of it all, huh?"

He squeezes your hand, before daring to bring your hand up to his lips and gently kiss it, saying, "I guess we are, my princess."

You stare in awe at him, suddenly feeling like he's just shot you in the heart with an arrow of love, regardless of how cheesy that all seems. You can't help but giggle and tease, "Oh my God, Héctor. I didn't know you had that in you!"

He beams, admittedly seeming quite pleased with himself.

Soon, then, he pays for the meal, and the two of you stand up to head out. As you walk, Héctor links arms with yours, and once you're outside, he turns to grab your shoulders gently, face you, and look into your eyes. All you can see in them is simple, beautiful, complete joy. It's then that he whispers, "I hope you know... how much this means to me. All of this."

You stare at him. He so... close. It's not like you haven't been this close to him before- you have, many times.

But this time? This time, it just feels... well, different.

This time is different.

His thumb gently rubs your shoulder. The tenderness in his dark brown eyes...

You swallow.

"You're so beautiful... I'm so glad I get the privilege to be so close to you. I'm so glad you're my best friend."

"And I'm so glad you're my boyfriend," you suddenly blurt with a silly little smile, your heart pounding at the words you just let slip from your lips.

His eyes immediately widen. "You... You really want to...?"

You lean in close, gazing up at him, "I'd love to, and I know you would, too."

He grins, before it slowly dies down to a simple, soft, dreamy smile. "I sure would..." he barely murmurs, moving his hand up to gently cup your cheek.

You chuckle breathy as he lean in, tenderly planting a kiss on your cheek, before moving close to whisper in your ear, his cheek almost touching yours, his gentle, warm breath on your ear, "Well, I guess I've got to go now... But I'm excited for next time, huh?"

You grin, whispering back, "Oh, Héctor, I hope you know I can't wait."

He grins back and whispers, "Good. Me neither. Now, bye bye, Y/n!" He leans away again, pecking you on your cheek, closer to your mouth this time, and waves as he starts heading off.

You beam. "Bye bye, Héc!"

And this time, he doesn't seem to mind you calling him that. In fact, he might actually like it. Just a bit.

[adelheidvonschicksal]

hey! Was just wondering, could you do a part 2 for puppy! Yuji x reader, where Yuji successfully breeds reader, (don’t ask how it’s possible lol) and reader doesn’t know she’s pregnant, so Yuji tries to tell her she is by rubbing her belly, or laying on it and always holding it. Also some smut if you still do that kinda stuff! I understand if you wouldn’t want to do it! But I would really appreciate it! Live your work btw! <3

Based off I Love Yu

Kind of a what-if since originally there was an implication that he couldn't breed Reader, but let's do it! <3 Thank you to Avy for beta-ing for me again.

AN: It's been a while since I wrote non-solo smut I think. I love Itadori he's already really sweet and cute like a pup! I tried to fit some smut in there so I hope this is something like you were thinking.

CW: NSFW, Smut, Oral (F!Receiving), Interspecies (Puppy Hybrid), pregnancy✨

Filter tags Notsfw, Adelssmut, tw: hybrids, tw: pregnancy

You didn’t understand what was wrong with you.

You’ve been feeling so rundown. No matter how much you sleep, the fatigue doesn’t break. It didn’t help that you could barely keep anything down either, surviving off nothing but toast over the last three days.

The only bright spot in your day recently is your precious puppy boy. Yuji is so sweet to you nowadays, well, he’s always sweet but even more so as of late. He constantly stares at you with big brown eyes and holds his arms around your waist while resting his head against your belly. The warmth of his full weight on you did wonders for the random waves of cramps that hit you after a long day on your feet.

This time when you get home from work, immediately collapsing on your bed with nothing but a towel on after a long shower, he’s there. His fingers tiptoe along your shoulder, a curious set of pokes against your steaming skin.

In a small burst of energy, you plant your hand between two furry ears and briefly pet his head before passing back out into the sheets, sparing no care that you were making them damp. The coolness of them felt too good right now.

Yuji presses a hand to the back of your head, mimicking your actions as he lays on his side to try to catch a glimpse of your face.

“Mad?” he asks.

“I’m not mad, sweetheart.” You work the energy to turn your head to face him. It isn’t the first time you collapsed into the bed in the same fashion. Usually, it meant you were burnt out at work by an assignment or a stupid co-worker. “I just don’t feel good today.”

Big eyes going soft in an apology, he frowns at you before having the excellent idea to squeeze the back of your ankles and shuffle you around. You never understand exactly where he finds this strength, even with all the muscles, but you don’t fight it as he wiggles you around to flip you onto your back.

His hands slide up the side of your legs, shifting your towel to expose one thigh before wrapping around your torso. He scrambles on top of you. His head pushes to your stomach, and he muffles a soft “love you” against it.

“Love me?” he asks, and it makes you wince. He never really asks that unless he did something that he thought would get him in trouble. He learned to get really good at asking once he figured out that buttering you up was an easy way to slip out of scolding.

This time, it concerns you that he might’ve taken your tiredness as something he did wrong, so you run a hand along his upper back. “Of course, I do.”

His tail wags and his face shines again with that smile you love as he cuddles against your belly again. It’s enough to make you ignore it when another cramp seizes, all save for a small whimper and wince that causes his ears to twitch.

Your puppy moves on his own before you can request him to get off your stomach. Warm, big hands hold down your hips and pull at your towel enough so he can pepper your lower belly with kisses. They progress slowly down the center of your stomach, crossing the border to ghost between your legs.

“Are you trying to make me feel better?” you breathe out. With how his tail increases its pace, swinging back and forth fast enough to create a light swishing sound, and how his smooth wide tongue flattens against your mound, you take it as a yes.

And oh boy does it work to make you forget everything when he sets to work. His nails scratch against your skin, biting into the meat of your thighs as his tongue laps at your clit.

You moan eagerly, gripping at your sheets and lifting your hips to greet his sloppy mouth. He makes out with your cunt, almost like he’s trying to devour it as his tongue slides between your folds and his upper lip brushes your bead.

“Sweetheart, do you still know how to use your fingers?”

Yuuji growls and places a kiss on your thigh, smiling against your skin at the wet stain he marks you with. He brings two fingers at your entrance, glancing back up to watch your crumbling expression as he curls them into you.

“That’s it. G-Good boy,” you praise, and he knows he’s struck the right spot that’ll have your pretty moans vibrating in his sensitive ears.

You smell heavenly when he finally flattens his tongue back out over your clit. He knows you’re his, all his, when your walls flutter and suck his fingers deeper into their spongy hold.

He sucks in a breath through his nose. Your scent makes his cock twitch and the swollen and firm feel of your clit tells him you’re feeling good now, and he’s so happy to return the feeling you give him when you constantly float around with the pheromone of his pups.

Yuuji wraps his arms tighter around you, holding you closer. It makes you force a hand down into his hair, praises of “good boy”, “keep going”, ”almost there, sweetheart” panting wetly from your lips until your legs quiver in his strong hold.

When he pulls away, his face is coated in your release, from his nose down, far beyond where his tongue can reach but he wastes no time sucking your taste from his fingers with a smile as he stares at your spent form.

You may be sweaty and out of breath, but you look much happier now. Yuuji crawls over you, sliding his hips between your legs. His hard length presses against your stomach as he presses kisses to the center of your neck, his soft ginger ears tickling the underside of your chin.

Your heart could almost hold the world when he forces his full weight against you to cuddle you.

“I love you.”

You coo at him, scratching fingers through the back of his hair. “I love you too, Yu Yu.”

When he hears your voice, his cock aches. He whines against your skin, wishing that this time would go faster so he could breed you again already. He guesses it doesn’t matter this time, he knows you’ll still at least feel better after he knots you, even if your body is already occupied.

And the whimper you make when he parts you with his cock proves him right.

When the morning comes, you don’t want to get out of bed. You’d rather spend all day cuddling Yuuji and smothering yourself into the sweet strength of his muscles. Alas, you force yourself to get up and go to the doctor’s appointment you made for yourself otherwise you’d never feel better.

You let Yuuji sleep, sliding out from under him, throwing on the first thing you see in your closet, and heading to the clinic.

You enter the building with the expectation of getting some antibiotics or confirmation of stomach flu at worst. Instead, you’re given a list of vitamins to take, a note with a list of symptoms at the bottom all culminating in a diagnosis that reads: pregnant, and a little baby badge to attach to your bag so people won’t hassle you for using the special seats on the subway.

You’re scowling the entire way back home, stopping briefly at a drug store to pick out a couple of different pregnancy tests. There’s no way those stupid doctors had it right.

When you return home, you slam the door behind you, spooking your puppy as you rush to the bathroom. You take the first test that morning and the second one that afternoon, and they both come back with the same result: positive.

Your heart is racing the entire rest of the evening as you sit on the couch and stare at that dumb stick for what seems like forever, thinking that maybe if you stare at it enough your result will change. The only thing that keeps you from going ballistic is Yuuji sitting underneath you, one leg shuffled between yours and the other on the outside of your right. His chin rests right on your knee as he watches you talk with your friend on the phone.

“Is it someone you met on that app?”

“I haven’t even gone on more than a first date.”

Yuuji starts to get impatient the longer your conversation goes on, and you ignore him. He shuffles up onto the couch and collapses his head against your shoulder, making you grimace and shift, so he doesn’t knock the phone out your hand.

“You don’t think that maybe—"

“No, it was only two, and one was for coffee and the other we didn’t ride together,” you add on, and you never drunk enough to where you think someone could have taken advantage of you. “Yuuji cut it out,” you scold when he starts to whine and pull at your waist. Sensing he wasn’t going to stop any time soon, you decide to hang up. “I’ll call you back.”

You put down the phone, turning to your pup to ask him what was wrong. He snuggles against you, rubbing his head against your shoulder and sliding an arm around your stomach.

He mumbles out your name and starts to weigh you back, just enough so your lower back presses against the arm of the couch and he can scoot down to place his head on your stomach and breathe in deep.

“Love you,” he mumbles and looks as though he could almost fall asleep against you. You almost repeat it before the unsettling realization crashes down on you.

That’s impossible, isn’t it? You’re not even the same species!

“Yuuji,” he snaps his head up, pinning his ears back at the rough sound of your voice, “Did you do this?” you ask him, showing him the pregnancy stick. He doesn’t seem to understand so you put it in words he can. “Breed?” you ask.

He senses that you finally get it and gives you the widest smile you think you’ve ever seen him wear. It’s almost enough to make you laugh. Almost.

“You’re downright proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

Happily, he buries his forehead against your stomach. “Good boy?”

You sigh but pet him anyway, seeing that this is very much your fault in the first place. Besides you can’t stay mad at that face. “Very good boy.”