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starkwlkr · 14 days

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love in las vegas | mark webber

through the decades masterlist

Las Vegas, 1967

Mark didn’t know why he even agreed to accompany his friends to sin city. He would much rather stay in his cosy bed and sleep, but he knew how much the trip meant to his friend, Tom, since it was a bachelor party.

“Think we’ll get lucky tonight?” Tom asked Mark as they walked the Las Vegas strip. Tom had talked all day about going to the casino so he was more than confident that he would be walking home with a few hundred dollars.

“I don’t want to jinx it.” Mark chuckled. Soon the group of friends found themselves in Caesars Palace. Mark never imagined himself at such a fancy place like Caesars Palace. He always thought it was for big name celebrities like Paul Newman and Audrey Hepburn.

Still he was here to enjoy time with his friends.

“Hey, I think I’m going to check out the rest of the building. I heard the pool is pretty nice.” Mark said to the group, but no one heard him since they were too busy on the slot machines.

He walked away and found himself wandering around. He wasn’t sure what direction the pool was located in so he kept walking and admiring the art work on the walls. That was until a sweet voice caught his attention.

“Honestly, Mary, why can’t I go alone? I’ve done it once, I can do it again. Fuck what the press thinks, they already think I’m a bitch!”

Mark watched as the most beautiful woman in the world walked down the hall. She had on red heart glasses and wore a shade of red lipstick that Mark loved. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her until he almost bumped into a wall.

“Mary, I’m going to be by the pool. All this thinking is making me stressed and I can’t be stressed.” Mark didn’t want to seem like a stalker, but he was going to the pool either way.

He watched as you were greeted by every person as you made your way to a cabana. You took your sunglasses off and laid on the lounge chairs.

Go talk to her . . No, she’s busy. . But it can’t hurt, right? It might! Think positive!

His inner thoughts were stopped when you called for him. He looked around thinking you were calling someone else, but he was proven wrong when you pointed at him.

“You are talking to me . . ” Mark nervously chuckled as he approached your cabana.

“Well yeah, you look lost.” You laughed. “You have an accent. I take it you’re not from here.”

“No, I’m from Australia. I’m just here with a couple of friends. They’re in the casino.” Mark explained.

“You can sit down, I don’t have germs.” You joked when you noticed that he was still standing. So Mark sat in the lounge chair across from you. “How are you liking Vegas?”

“It’s loud that’s for sure. It’s . . . perfect for those fancy rich celebrities. Especially those actors like that guy from to kill a mockingbird!”

“Gregory Peck? He’s lovely. Wonderful kisser too.” You reply with a smirk.

“What? Is it like a rumor?”

“No, I speak from experience. It was also lovely to work with him. He invited me to his house in California. I declined, but it was still nice of him to invite me.” You recalled the time your friend had invited you to his California home.

“Wait . .” Mark thought for a second. “You’re —”

You nodded. “One of those ‘fancy rich celebrities’ except I don’t come to Vegas often. I’m only here a couple hours. You see, I am supposed to be on a flight to Santa Monica for the academy awards, but I wanted to spend some time here. I like it here, it’s one of the few places I enjoy.”

Mark instantly felt like an idiot. He didn’t mean to insult you. Well then again, he didn’t know you acted. He hardly watches any new movies anyways. He had been busy with racing.

“I never asked you your name.” You said.

“Mark.” The Australian replied.

“Well Mark, do you want to explore Vegas with me?”

Mark didn’t have to think twice. You took him to your favorite restaurants, took pictures with your Polaroid and walked the strip until your feet ached. But there was one final stop that was a must do when you’re in Vegas.

Graceland Wedding Chapel

Was it a stupid decision? You and Mark didn’t think so.

That night, you had married a nice stranger.

“I can’t believe that we just got married!” Mark said as you walked out of the chapel with the certificate in hand. “Holy shit, we’re married!”

“Call me Mrs. Webber.” You held out the hand that Mark had been holding. The Australian grabbed it and kissed it.

“I think this is the best night of my life.” Mark sighed. “Wait, that makes my life sound extremely sad. Don’t listen to me.”

You laughed. “It’s okay. This is the best night of my life too and I’ve been to so many places, but being here with you is my favorite.”

As Mark leaned in to place a kiss on your lips, you gasped and pulled back. You had completely forgotten about the academy awards ceremony that you needed to attend in a few hours.

“I need to go! Wait, you need to go with me too!” You said.

“What? I can’t!”

“Why not? We just need to get to Santa Monica, get you a suit and get to the ceremony. I’m nominated for best actress!”

Best actress? You couldn’t miss that!

“Fine, but if my friends find out I ditched them—”

“They won’t notice you’re gone, I promise.”

Mark grabbed your hand and together you ran to the parking lot where his Porsche had been parked. Before you could get the chance, he opened the door for you and gave you a charming smile.

“Mrs. Webber.” He winked.

“You’re too kind, Mr. Webber.” You blushed.

Soon, you and Mark were on your way to Santa Monica. Mark had rolled the windows down and turned up the music. It was perfect. You could feel the cool air going through your hair, the sweet sound of ‘I think we’re alone now’ by Tommy James and The Shondelles filled your ears. Mark kept glancing at you every chance he got. In his eyes, you were the love of his life. He was a firm believer in soulmates and here you were in the passenger seat of his Porsche. You were living proof that love at first sight existed and he was head over heels in love with you.

The four hours it took to get to Santa Monica, you and Mark talked, sang and you even got a few minutes to nap. When you arrived, you took Mark to get a suit. Mark had only wore a suit a handful of times. He hated wearing them as a child, but now they weren’t too bad.

“What if I get asked a question?” Mark asked. “I don’t know anything about movies or actors!”

“Relax, i lie when I don’t know stuff. It’s fun.” You smile.

“It’s easy for you, you’re an actress. Wait, what if someone asks who I am to you? Don’t you have to talk to your manager or someone important before you say something?” Mark was too busy stressing while you were busy thinking how you were going to celebrate even if you didn’t win.

“Tell them the truth. You’re my husband, is that a bad thing?”

Being married wasn’t a bad thing, especially if you were his wife, mark thought. He would marry you everyday of his life if he could.

“I’ll scream it from the highest rooftop if I have to.” He kissed you.

After giving the cashier his last fifty dollars for the suit, Mark drove you to the Beverly Hills Hotel where your manager and makeup team were. He had never stepped foot in such a fancy hotel like the Beverly Hills before, sure he was in Cesars palace not too long ago, but the Beverly Hills was an upgrade.

You eventually made it to your room and entered the suite. Again, Mark was amazed by every little thing from the painting on the wall to the fluffy pillows. You honestly found it adorable.

“Where have you been?” Your makeup artist, Alexander, asked you.

“It’s a long story. Alex meet Mark, Mark meet Alex. There, we’re all good on introductions for now.” You smiled as you sat in the makeup chair.

“Where did you find him?” Alexander questioned as he got started on your makeup.

“Vegas. He’s Australian and he’s technically my husband. I’m Mrs. L/n-Webber.” You stated confidently. You were living up to the title now.

“What!?” Mark stood beside your chair not knowing if Alexander hated him or not. He wished he was anywhere else.

“Relax, we won’t say anything about it to the press.”

And that was the biggest lie. Well, sort of.

By the end of the night, Mark was introduced to most of the biggest faces in Hollywood. He got to walk the red carpet and posed for pictures with you. He also got to witness you win your first academy award where you publicly declared your love for him.

“Lastly, I want to thank Mark. These past few hours have been the craziest, but I wouldn’t change a thing.” You spoke into the microphone as you held your golden statue in your hands.

Mark was seated beside your manager, Henry, who was thankful the night was almost over. Little did Mark know that his friends had been watching the ceremony in their Vegas hotel room. Some of them were still drinking while others wondered how Mark even got an academy award winner to marry him.

The Australian smiled as you left the stage. This was certainly an interesting night that nobody would forget and nobody did. You and Mark stayed married. While Mark raced all over the world, you worked on numerous films and won awards. During the summer of 1969, you gave birth to your first child, a girl named Diana. Then four years later, your baby boy was born. Little Michael Webber, a spitting image of his father. You were in love with your little family even if it all started with a wild night in Vegas. You wouldn’t change any of it.

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber imagine #mark webber fanfic #mark webber #mark webber fluff #actress!reader #through the decades series

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luveline · 9 months

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hey jade!! i love kisses before dinner and was wondering (if you like the idea) maybe you could write something about avery realising how scary giving birth can be and starts worry about it before the new baby arrives? <3<3<3

thank you for your request! kisses before dinner —mom!you and dad!steve comfort avery when she has concerns for your health. fem!reader, 3k

cw discussed maternal mortality and death

Steve Harrington looks out over the kitchen table that night with a great sense of success. You're sitting at the other end with Dove on your knee, feeding her bites of macaroni cheese between feigned spoonfuls given to her rainbow teddy bear. Bethie sits to his left eating without complaint (a victory considering her pickiness). Avery sits to his right, trying to pour her own glass from the juice jug. It's awesome.

Steve quickly swallows the drink he'd been sipping on and offers to help her, hand extended, "Here. I got it."

"I can do it," Avery insists, her long arms shaking under the weight.

He doesn't mind her being independent, nor her improving capabilities, but the last thing he wants to do tonight is clean up a huge juice spill. Steve takes the juice gently and refills her plastic cup.

"Dad," she whines.

"Avery," he whines back.

She huffs and grabs her fork, ignoring her fresh cup of juice to shovel in bites of broccoli and macaroni instead.

"I think I'm done," Bethie says. Steve must have jinxed it.

He attempts to do the impossible —convince Bethie to finish dinner. He takes up station by the side of her chair, having tried everything now, and only this works.

"Beth," he says, putting his hand behind her back, "Are you sure there's no room left? I don't want you to be hungry again before we go to bed 'cos you won't tell me, will you?"

"I'm full," she insists, reaching for her drink bottle.

"Is there something wrong with it?" he asks, rubbing up and down her back.

"No, daddy, it's nice," she says. She isn't quite convincing, but she tries.

Steve looks at her. She looks like Steve sometimes, like neither of you other times, but mostly he looks at her and he sees you. Your smile, your frown, Bethie's tell is the same as yours when she lies. Steve can read you both like a book.

"Is it cold?" he asks, sticking his pinky finger in the corner of her macaroni. "A little. If I heat it back up for you, would that make it better?"

"No, please," she says.

He sighs. "Make you something else? Sandwiches?"

"I'm not hungry, daddy."

Steve plasters a smile over his worries and kisses her cheek. "Okie smokie. Well done, honey, you ate lots and lots. Let's try even more for breakfast, yeah?"

"Yes!" she agrees, sliding off of her chair.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"Need to pee!" she yells, running to the stairs. She opens the baby gate (which she’s known how to do for too many years, way before supposed to know how to —thanks so much, Avery) and Steve listens to her sprint up the stairs with a wince.

"Call me if you need help!" he yells after her.

"Okay!"

"You think that's why she didn't want to eat?" you ask, wiping the corners of Dove's mouth with her bib.

Steve stands up and stretches his arms behind his head. "I don't know," he says, rolling his neck around in a circle.

"Is it gross if I eat her leftovers?" you ask.

"I'll make you another pot, if you want it," Steve offers, arms dropping down to his side. He's been trying to get back into shape lately. It's not working out. "You having cravings?"

"I'm just hungry all the time," you say, your voice melding into a sing song as you finish wiping Dove's face. "All done! Good girl, Dovey! You're my good girl." You plaster her forehead with a layer of kisses before putting her down on the floor. She wobbles, hands on your thighs. "Okay? You want another drink?"

"Dotty Dolly," she says, taking your hand. "Please. Please, Dolly."

"Yeah, my love. I'm coming." You groan as you stand up, not quite pregnant enough to worry about popping soon but more than enough to feel exhaustion to the marrow.

"Just me and you then," Steve says to Avery, tucking in chairs and piling plates at the table.

"Me and you, sir," she agrees in a funny voice.

"Still mad at me?"

She remembers to glare at him. "Yes!" She takes another bite of macaroni. "Okay, no."

"If you're not gonna chew with your mouth closed, put your hand over your mouth. I don't wanna see your chewed up dinner." Avery pokes her tongue out, laughing when Steve says, "Ewww."

He sets the leftovers aside for you rather than waste Bethie's largely untouched pasta in the trash, stacking the dishes in the sink and wetting a cloth to wipe down the table. He cleans around Avery, squeezing her neck, shoulders and arms to make her squirm as he goes.

"You want seconds?" he asks, returning to the sink.

"I want dessert."

"Good idea. You know Mom's so pregnant all she does lately is wake me up for ice cream."

"She wakes you up?" Avery asks.

"By accident trying to put her socks on at the end of the bed. Baby's getting too big now, she can't see her toes."

"It's a good thing she has you, dad."

"Yeah, but you'd help mommy, wouldn't you? Help her put her shoes on if she couldn't reach?"

Avery hops off of her chair and passes him her plate, completely clean of food. She grows like a bamboo shoot and eats like a rabid dog. He loves it. She's evidence that he's a good cook.

"Thank you. What did you want for dessert?" he asks.

"I have something to ask you."

"Oh." Steve hates the sound of that, theorising that she wants a new something or other he'll have to say no to. He grabs her by the waist, wet hands and all, hoisting her up onto the counter by the dish rack. He puts a rag in her hands. "You dry and I'll answer."

"It's a weird question," Avery warns.

"Avery, you wouldn't believe how weird some of the questions I've asked are. Don't worry about it."

He scrunches dirty water out of the dish sponge and squirts soap onto a dirty plate. The hot water burns his fingertips. Avery dries a plastic plate diligently, her question coming out slow as running wax.

"Mom's gonna be okay, right?" she asks quietly.

Steve fights to keep his eyebrows down. They bob anyways. "Okay from what?"

"When she has the baby. She's not going to get hurt?"

"Well, having a baby really hurts. But there's medicine for her to take, and I'll be there to hold her hand."

"No," Avery says, frowning, "that's not…"

"Sorry, Ave. Ask me again, try a different word."

She puts the dried plate down to her left and picks another to dry. "Will mom die?"

"No," he says. Doesn't miss a beat, though his pulse capers. He knows that childbirth is hard, that lots of things can go wrong, but if he truly thought you might die he wouldn't have asked for another baby. And even if he did think it were going to happen, it's not a thought Avery needs to have. "She won't die, I promise you. Where'd you get that idea, honey?"

"Jordan's mom died having a baby."

Steve nods and tries to recalibrate the conversation. He knew of Jordan's mom passing away, he made a couple of trays of food for Jordan's dad and put money in the collection plate for her memorial, but he didn't know Avery knew precisely how it happened.

"Right, she did," he says gently. "And that's scary, huh?"

"Why can't it happen to mommy if it happened to her?" Avery asks.

Steve shuts off the water. Hand still wet, he rubs his forehead roughly. "Can I have that?" he asks Avery, gesturing for the dish cloth. She gives it to him, putting down her last plate, and Steve wipes his fingers dry to pick her up without getting her wet a second time.

"Let's have a talk," he says, tilting his head to the side. He sees his eyes looking back at him, smaller and softer, longer lashes but the same honeyed brown. "Me, you, and mommy. Okay?"

"Dad," she says, startled.

"It's okay, It'll be better if you talk to mom, too, because it's mom that's already had babies, not me. I think I know everything because my brain is so big and stuff, but I can't tell you what your mom is thinking."

"I don't want mommy to get upset," she says.

It's partially his fault for asking her to tell him if there's a problem rather than you a few weeks ago. He didn't want you walking up and down the stairs unnecessarily, and your blood pressure is something they've been keeping an eye on. He didn't mean for Avery to bottle things up. Every time Steve thinks he's doing something right it finds a way to bite him in the ass.

"I meant if Bethie's turned the faucet on and flooded the bathroom, or if you want to change your bed or something, not that you can't ask her things that are worrying you," he says, readjusting her weight. Her knees dig into his sides as he carries her to the living room doorway from the kitchen.

"Hey, mom?" he asks.

Your head jumps up. You're sitting on the edge of the couch with Dove's face in your knee, a dribble patch dampening your pants. Bethie has her hand in yours sitting next to you. You're still in your work clothes, your bump straining against everything now, but yet to drop. He'll have to wash your pants tonight.

"Hey?" you say, a guilty smile tugging up your pretty mouth. "I'm coming to do the dishes, I swear. My girls caught me in their net."

"Can we talk to you? For a minute," Steve says.

Your eyes widen. You stand up with a funny noise like someone's stepped on your toes, lifting Dove by the armpits to sit next to Bethie. You kiss the girls goodbye and they're too distracted by Dotty Dolly playing on the TV to mind.

"What's wrong?" you ask, following Steve back into the kitchen.

"Want me to explain?" Steve asks Avery. She nods. "Avery's a little worried about you."

"About me?" You put your hands under your face and beam at her. "What's worrying you? I've never been better."

"She's worried about when you have the baby."

"'Cos of Jordan's mom," Avery whispers.

You hear it despite her small voice, your smile sobering. "I see… I see. You know… you're a big girl, Avery. You're my big girl, and I wish I could keep you this young forever sometimes, but I know that you know that people don't get to stay with us forever, so I don't want to scare you, but I'll tell you what I think, yeah?"

Avery swallows around nothing.

Steve gives her back a sympathetic pat. "It's okay," he says to her, enthusing his voice with some pep to calm her down.

"Jordan's mommy was sick when she passed away," you say, your hand resting on your bump now, inching closer to Steve and Avery where they've paused under the kitchen light. "She knew things were going to be hard. When you have a baby, you know things won't be easy, but it's not fair. It's very sad. She," —you look at Steve with a parent familiar fear that says, Am I saying the right things?— "said goodbye before anyone wanted her too, but Avery." Steve knows what you're going to say. It's a promise he made only minutes ago, one that you have no control over keeping, but a necessary one nonetheless to make. You could very well have complications down the line, things could spin out of control, but Avery doesn't need the stress of that hanging over her. "I promise you here and now that I'm not going anywhere. Daddy won't let me."

He laughs a little breathlessly. "Damn straight."

"But daddy isn't a doctor," Avery says, holding out her arm.

You walk into Avery's reach, letting her climb from Steve's arms to yours without complaint. "He didn't have time to be a doctor, he was too busy being the best dad ever."

"Are you flirting with me?" Steve asks.

"Duh, Stevie." You turn your attention to Avery, struggling to hold her and stroke a hair from her face. "Don't worry about me. Promise me you won't, Ave."

"I just don't want you to go away," Avery says with a frown.

Steve feels an unexpected heat behind his eyes. You smile softly, your thumb on Avery's cheek. "Then I won't. I'll stay. I can't go anywhere without you, gorgeous."

Steve strokes the back of Avery's head. "And I can't be without either of you, so mom doesn't have a choice."

He wishes things were that simple. Steve has no idea what the future holds, but he chooses to believe it'll be a good one, where every one of his girls gets to grow old. But the future isn't something he can predict nor change by wishing alone.

"Did that make much sense to you, sweetheart?" you ask Avery.

"It makes sense. Sorry."

You and Steve make twin sounds of loving disbelief.

"Sorry for what?" you ask, as Steve says, "No, God, don't be sorry!"

"It's okay to ask me stuff," you say.

"That's what we're here for."

Avery wraps her arms around your neck. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she whispers, near imperceptibly, Steve's ears straining to hear her under the sounds of the water heater and the television.

"I'm sure. I've done it three times already."

"Are you scared?"

You shake your head resolutely. "No. You know why?"

"Why?"

"'Cos I know, at the end of it I might get another little girl who's just like you. Or like Beth, or Dove. Maybe I'll get one who's nothing like any of you, but I know with such a great big sister she's going to be amazing."

Avery rests her cheek on your shoulder. "You think so?"

"I know so."

"Thank you," she says.

You laugh again. "For what?" you ask, nails raking up and down the length of her back. "Only telling you what's true. Me and daddy think you're the bestest."

Steve rubs his face with both hands rather than cry. Crying makes his eyes sore and he has to wake up at six AM tomorrow to take the girls to swimming lessons at seven thirty. (He also doesn't want Avery to see him crying and get the wrong idea, what with the previous conversation.)

"Mom?" Bethie asks in the doorway.

"Yes?" you murmur, resting your head atop Avery's gently.

"Excuse me."

You laugh a charmed laugh and scoot out of the way, resting your weight on the door jam. Bethie looks incredibly small idling at his feet, even though Dove is much smaller. She smiles nervously.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. He pretends to be nonchalant, while inside he's thinking about lots of things. Avery's huge heart and all her worries. Bethie's emerging cheekiness after years of quiet. Dove's roaring giggle when you squeeze her just right. And you, your bump, your devotion to him and the girls, but more than that —your voice and how you talk with all the good you possess. How you're talking now to Avery in dulcet tones.

Bethie takes his hand. "Can I have the rest of my mac and cheese, please?"

"Yeah, babe. Unless you want dessert instead?"

His hand sways in her grip. "I want mac and cheese if that's okay."

Steve picks her up with a typical dad groan. He'll check on Dove first, but he has no qualms with warming her mac and cheese. He'd offer to make you another helping if you weren't distracted entirely, nose bridge nuzzling into Avery's neck.

He doesn't know what the future holds, but he hopes for more of this.

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lovelybrooke · 11 days

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We Could Be a Family Pt.2 (Platonic Yandere Silco and Jinx).

It's finally happening. Here's part 1. And no, I'm not doing a part 3.

tw: choking is done to reader.

Masterlist

"You called for me."

Silco was sitting at his desk, his chair facing the grand window behind him, his eyes locked on the world outside his office.

He doesn't acknowledge you immediately. Instead, he slowly swivels his chair around, facing you with his syringe in hand. He gives you a small smile, one which you do not reciprocate.

"What do you need, I was working." You say blankly, Silco's smile dropping. He sometimes missed when you were younger, cute and naive. Now, you're eighteen, much more mature and hardened towards the world. He wishes he could go back to when you were a child, he wishes he could change a lot of things.

Silco waves the syringe around, your eyes rolling immediately. You take a short walk to his desk, walking behind the desk and taking the syringe from him.

The syringe has a small vial of shimmer in it, glistening under the light of the room. You take a stand in front of Silco, pulling down the syringe and listening for the click.

"You know...I've been thinking..." You mumble, Silco's focusing on you.

"That could be dangerous." Silco says, his voice gravelly. You don't react to his comment, moving the syringe towards his eye after a faint click sound is heard.

"I--I want to join the Academy." You whisper, Silco flinching when the needle punctures his eye and the shimmer drains. Once the syringe is taken away, he bends over heaving, looking at you with a snarl.

"What?!"

You fiddle with the syringe, placing it down on the table eventually. "I-I want to join the Academy, become a chemist." You reverted back to your shy demeanor, not even looking Silco in the eye.

He huffs, a small laugh escaping his mouth as he regains his composure. "Heh-you think they'd let a child from Zaun into the Academy." He leans back into his chair. "They wouldn't even let you into the city."

You look up at him, your face scrunched up in embarrassment. "I have the money, remember?" Of course, he remembers. You were smart, you hid it, and neither him nor his underlings could find any trace of him. "I could leave at any moment."

"But you won't." Silco says, smirking. He waves the syringe around, almost playfully. "You're my best worker."

"What about Jinx?"

"Jinx is unpredictable."

You cross your arms, and Silco can notice tears on your eyeline. "Can I go now?"

Silco doesn't answer, simply turning around and gazing back out the window. His smile drops as he hears your feet shuffling away. "(Y/N)."

"What?"

"...Don't forget about dinner."

You don't answer, the door slamming shut.

---

"Where ya going?"

You look over your shoulder, Jinx in the doorway behind you. You barely spare her a look before continuing to throw clothes into your old suitcase.

"I'm leaving."

The girl doesn't respond, but you can hear her move deeper into your room. She sighs dramatically, before crashing down onto your bed, her arms out to the side, one of her arms conveniently covering your suitcase.

"Is this about you messing up your assignment the other day?" She giggles, blowing a strand of hair out of her face before it falls right back in place. "Cuz it's not that big of a deal."

You don't even remember your previous assignment, but you remember being reprimanded by Silco. It was the first time in years he's yelled at you that loudly. It's a harsh reminder on why you should've left sooner.

You huff at the girl, moving her arm and zipping the suitcase closed. "No, Jinx, it's not about the assignment." You look her in the eyes, your whole demeanor calming when you notice the slight hurt in her face. "It's about-about everything. It's about Silco not respecting me, about me essentially being his prisoner since I was 14. It's about wanting more than what Zaun can give me. You understand that, right?"

The girl, yet again, remains silent, and her eyes move from you to the ceiling. You can tell she's having a conversation with herself in her head, and you debate leaving now. But you instead wait it out, watching as she rises from her spot, looking directly at you.

"You're being selfish." Her face was stern, angry even, and you could feel rage bubbling inside of you.

You let out a dry laugh, "I'm being selfish? Me?" You raise a brow at her as your voice raises. "What about you, you--you monopolize all my time, which gets me in trouble, and since you're Silco's little princess I have to take blame, because nothing could ever be your fault!"

Jinx is standing now, her face directly in front of you. "You're abandoning us, me and Silco, and you won't even acknowledge it."

"I'm not abandoning you; I'm giving myself a better life! And if that's selfish, then I guess I'm fucking selfish!" You yell one final time, slamming the door to your bedroom, leaving Jinx all alone.

---

Getting into Piltover was the easy part, you knew that.

The hard part was making sure you had all the money you needed.

You had to have enough money for food, clothes, housing, and eventually, schooling. You knew the money you've been saving would be enough, but you were still nervous.

You hid your money well, deep within Zaun, a place Silco would never go himself. You hid it in an old, abandoned building, in a case locked away. You knew hiding it in a place such as that was risky, Shimmer addicts frequented the area regularly, but it was the safest place from Silco and his goons.

You push your way into the building, your body squeezing when your arm brushes up against something gooey, but you ignore it. You take a deep breath when you finally get into the room, immediately eyeing the case.

You rush over to pick it up, checking just in case to make sure all the money was there. After counting everything, you shut the case, tucking it under your arm, squeezing yourself back out of the building.

You heave, never looking back as you make your way higher and higher out of Zaun. You make sure not to bump into anyone, every few seconds checking to make sure the case is still with you. It was difficult, feeling as though everywhere you turned someone was looking at you, looking for you. It was only a matter of time before Jinx realized that you were gone, but you didn't care.

You were done.

You were free.

And as you crossed the bridge into Piltover, the fresh air on your face, the singing of birds in your ear, the bright blue sky almost too much to handle, you knew that you finally made it.

---

You sometimes wonder if you're too lucky.

You've been in Piltover for three weeks now, and so far everything has been fine. Almost too fine.

You haven't gotten any weird stares, you haven't seen any tuffs of blue hair in any corners, and you even have an interview for an Academy position in a few weeks. You may have had to lie about your situation, but it didn't hurt anybody, and it wasn't like they were going to find out.

Everything was great, but it made you nervous.

Admittedly, you were a bit of a shut it. You barely left your small apartment unless you absolutely had to. Call it paranoia, but you always feared that every second you were outside was an opportunity for Silco to find you. You knew he was working with the enforcers, you knew that If they wanted to, they could take you right back to him immediately, but they haven't, and that scared you.

It was the dead of night, and of course, you couldn't sleep. Back in Zaun, it was hard to tell what time of day it was, the sunlight never reached down that far. It makes sleeping difficult for you, the quiet unnatural. So, you'd spend hours looking at the stars on your balcony. They were fascinating, beautiful, and strange all at the same time.

"It's beautiful, isn't it."

In a moment, you jumped up, turning towards the sound. Your heart was racing as you stared Silco in the eyes, his face unwavering as you shook in a mixture of surprise and anger.

"What are you--how did you get in?" You knew that was a stupid question, you could see a guilt ridden face of Marcus just right outside your door. You knew it was a matter of time before he ratted you out.

The wind blew behind you as you took a deep breath, steading yourself. "What do you want?"

Silco smirked, sensing your fear. You tried your best to put on a brave face, you didn't want him to use anything against you, but he could tell you were on edge, and you could tell you right where he wanted you.

The tall man stalked towards you, "honesty, I want you to be happy" he says, his voice low. You back away from him as he gets closer, hands grabbing the edge of the balcony as you back into it. He stands right in front of you, staring down at you.

"I've always wanted your happiness" a hand reaches up to grab your cheek. "above anything else." He whispers the last part as he looks you in the eyes. He was surprisingly soft, stopping you from moving out of pure confusion.

"I know I haven't been the best to you." He says, his hand moving down toward your neck. "But that isn't an excuse to disobey me." His hand tightens, restricting you from breathing a small bit. Your heart starts racing again as you feel your breath constrict.

"You are coming home." He says, his voice cold. "You will apologize to your sister, and you not leave again." His gaze never leaves you, even as you start choking. "Are we clear?" You could barely move your head, his grip tight. You racked your brain for any sense of fight, any small bit of rebellion left in you. But as the air left your lungs and your vision began to darken, all you could do was nod.

In an instant, his hand left your throat, your ragged breathing and coughs filled the room. You hear Silco kneel down close to you, feel his hand touch your back, but you're too concerned with coughing up air to care. You feel him rub your back, that disgusting sense of care making you want to throw up. You tried to move away from him, but there was nowhere to go.

Your head spins as he realizes that he wanted this, he wanted you to leave and get a sense of freedom, only to rip it away from you. He wanted to fill you with so much fear and then comfort you like a father comforts their child, it disgusts you.

It disgusts you as he pulls you up, tucking you into his side. It disgusts you as you walk out of your apartment, seeing the shame in Marcus's face as you're pulled away from him. It disgusts you as you watch the only bit of freedom you've ever had disappear behind the bridge.

Maybe this was your fault for assuming Silco would get over you. Maybe this was your fault for assuming Jinx wouldn't rat you out. Maybe it was your fault for being ever entering Silco's bar in the first place, for stealing that Shimmer and going along with that deal.

You can only imagine what life would've been like if you and Silco never crossed paths.

You can only dream.

#soft yandere #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #arcane x reader #yandere arcane #platonic yandere arcane #yandere arcane x reader #yandere silco #arcane

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mastermindmiko · 7 months

Note

Request: Where reader is jealous of some girl who flirts ron. And ron and reader have passionate sex

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you don't mind, but I've left out the smutty parts because I feel uncomfortable writing them. Sorry it took so long.

Green eyed monster and green skin girl

Pairing: Ron Weasley + reader

word count: 1008

Summary: Lavender gets too close to your boyfriend

Warnings: jinxes, some sexual innuendos, y/n being kinda cruel, maybe some mistakes? noot proofread

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

Ron has always been a jealous person. Sometimes, it didn't even make sense why he was jealous. It had sprouted over years of insecurity and feeling like his brothers were better than him. I've always tried to reassure him and make sure that he felt loved.

What didn't make sense, though, was the fact that today, Ron wasn't jealous, I was. So when madame Sprout announced that Ron's partner was Lavender I was too busy fisting my pen in my palm and trying to ignore her obnoxious laughter than celebrating the fact that Neville was my partner which guaranteed me an O.

They were sitting in the seats a few feet in front of Neville and I, and after a few minutes, I couldn't resist the urge to glare at the back of Lavender's head.

Poor Neville was trying to explain something to me, but I couldn't help but fantasize about chopping off Lavender's long blonde hair or even better yet, setting her whole head on fire.

My blood was already boiling, but when Lavender let out a high-pitched giggle and decided to place her hands on my boyfriend's arm, I was seeing red. All I was thinking about was how after the lesson, I couldn't wait to give her a piece of my mind.

Suddenly, I didn't have to wait till the end of the lesson because her hair caught fire. She started screaming and shouting. There was chaos all around her, and I tried to ignore it as much as I could. I didn't know I was that angry.

"How could you do such a thing?" Hermione whispers, angrily from the chair behind me after madame Sprout poured water on Lavender's head, leaving her looking like a drowned rat. I shrug my shoulders and avoided her gaze, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please! Everyone here noticed the way you wanted to stab her." Hermione scolded, and I scoffed at her (very true) insinuation. I said, "I did not want to stab her."

"You did, too. I stopped explaining ten minutes ago." Neville pipped in from beside me. I rolled my eyes and huffed. I turned back to find that Lavender's hair was intact and after a quick drying spell, she looked normal again.

Lavender continued her antics and pressed on my boyfriend's bicep, no doubt telling him how fit he was. Ron flushes and awkwardly shifts away from her. He looks back at me to find me glaring at both of them.

Lavender looks back at where Ron's looking and notices me. Her face turns to disgust. She looks me up and down, then scoffs, and she looks back to the front. I growl and try to claw at her from behind my table while Neville holds me back. Neville says, "You can't go to Azkaban for murder!"

"You're right, Neville." I say while straightening out my uniform before sitting down in the stool again. I grab my pen and whisper, "There are too many witnesses here anyway."

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" I reply, feigning innocence. Thankfully, the lesson is over in a few minutes. Neville and everyone else leaves the greenhouse. I wait, noticing how Lavender has my boyfriend cornered, talking to him about something idiotic.

Ron stops her mid sentence and rushes out of the greenhouse before she can catch him again. Lavender huffs and flips a bit of her hair over her shoulder. It was my moment, I slung my back over my shoulder, and as I walked towards her, I flick my wand to preform one of my favourite spells.

After it's done, I grin, satisfied. She's done packing when I reach her. I clear my throat and she looks at me. The give her a fake smile then say, "You should really know not to touch what isn't yours, especially since I know that you know that Ron isn't yours."

"What are you going to do if I don't?" Lavender replies with a hand on her hip. I smile, and head to the door, leaving the greenhouse, but not before replying, "You'll know."

Ron's waiting outside, fidgeting anxiously. I ignore him and walk a few steps towards the castle. Ron follows muttering, "I'm so sorry, I would never-"

"Relax, Ron. You were great, she, on the other hand...she'll get her punishment." I mutter the last part of my sentence. Ron looks confused. He asks, "What do you mean?"

A few laughs are heard and then a loud scream. I grin, knowing what happened. Ron looks back at the havoc that's occurring, and his eyes go wide. I can only imagine what he must be seeing, Lavender with green skin and hair. Ron looks back at me, eyes wide. Then, his face turns into what can only be described as incredibly smug.

"You're jealous." Ron says, and I look at him, mouth agape. I was, but no way I was telling him. I roll my eyes, but the blush on my cheeks betrays me. I huff, "You're insane."

"You're very jealous." Ron replies and lets out a chuckle at the end. I pout and start marching away from him. Ron wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to his chest.

He presses his lips to mine and raises his hand to cradle my face. It's slow and passionate. I open my mouth, and he deepens the kiss. I feel butterflies in my stomach. He parts, voice significantly deeper, "You're very sexy when you're jealous, darling."

He trails his other hand and fidgets with the hem of my skirt. My eyes widen, and I look around to find no one noticing. Ron whispers into my ear, "How about...we go to my dorm, and I'll remind you how you're the only one for me."

He presses a long kiss to my lips again, but this time, it's filled with lust. A need grows inside me, and I can't help but let out a small moan when he pinches my waist. Ron doesn't waste any time taking us to his dorm.

a/n: I think you can guess what happens next. I hope this was good, its my first time writing a request, I hope I did it justice.

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ohtobeleah · 8 months

Text

Bruises // Jake Seresin

Chapter Two: [Tactile Takedown]

Summary: When a missile is headed right for Roosters F-18, Jake makes a decision that could end up costing you your life.

Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.

Word Count: 4.4k

Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Tuesday - April 18th 2023. D-day.

“How you doing back there Hollywood?” Jake asked as you settled into a steady climb, You’d just taken off from the carrier that had taken you out into the middle of nowhere to complete a mission that seemed somewhat impossible. But you were told these guys were the best of the best, that they don't get any better than the Daggers. An elite group of Naval Aviators who had completed some of the most insane covert operations you'd been blessed to read about. “How's my radar looking?”

And now? Well–now you were one of them.

“Radars clean Hangman.” You confirmed all the while trying to calm the pit of nervousness in your stomach. “Recommend increasing to three hundred knots, you've got Dagger Two approaching at around ten o'clock closure.”

“Confirmed.” Jake replied as he pushed up on his throttle, it sent your head into the back of your chair a little from the force of gravity changing around you. “Increasing speed, Rooster you still with me?” It was just the three of you, Rooster, Hangman and yourself. A small yet tactile team of experienced and highly trained naval aviators sent it to disable a rogue insurgent group that was making far too much noise for the United States navy to ignore.

The mission? Dismantle what Nav-Con believed to be one of the two main insurgent camps situated in the middle of a communication desert. With one highly explosive missile and two of the best air to air combat pilots the navy had ever seen, you were tasked with getting in through a valley that had been similar terrain to a mission Bradley had flown a few years prior.

That was why he was chosen. Experience.

Jake Seresin had a reputation, he was the Hangman. He had two confirmed air to air kills and wouldn't lose sleep over a third of forth. From what you could gather since being assigned as his weapons system officer, Jake took risks. Risks that paid off well. He was highly skilled and that somewhat egomaniacal belief that he was a god given gift to aviation made it easier to pull through with such risks.

That was why he was chosen. Taktical ability to compartmentalise.

But Jake Seresin had a fault. He had a single thread loose that if pulled could undo all that male bravado. He cared, deep down, about his squadron. His colleagues had become more like family than anything. He couldn't turn that blind eye that was so necessary to have if this mission were to fail.

And that's why you were brought in. Why you were chosen for such a dangerous mission. You would have been easier to lose against Robert Floyd or Mickey Garcia and the Admirals all knew it. Jake didn't know you. You were a pivotal part of the mission design, a means to an end if necessary.

You were simply expendable:

From the Admirals who had tasked Bradley and Jake with this mission to Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, they all knew that if it were Bob or Fanboy sitting in Jake's WSO seat, he wouldn’t take so many risks. And for once–they needed him to take risks. To not think and just do.

“I'm right behind you, Hangman.” Bradleys voice came through the comms as clear as day. He was taling right behind Jake. “We’re looking good so far.”

“Better not have just jinxed us Bradshaw.” Jake sighed as he made a small turn right, heading down into the canyon below. “We get in, we get out and we go home.”

You had spent the last month revising the mission, sitting in hour long debrief sessions with Rooster and Hangman to go over critical points of the mission. You knew they were close, but there was an underlying sort of animosity you couldn't quite figure out.

And that's why they were both chosen for this mission together. There would be no love lost between the two.

“Still nothing up ahead on radar Hangman.” You spoke firmly with enough conviction in your voice to cover up the fact your heart was racing a million miles an hour. You never thought in your wildest dream you'd make it to TopGun and then further, a specialist unit. But this was not the time to doubt your ability. “All systems go back here, max ceiling is three hundred feet if you wanna keep out of line of sight.”

“Aye aye Hollywood.” Jake had never flown with a weapons system officer before. This was his first mission with one. When he’d been called into Admiral Simpson's office one random Thursday afternoon before finishing for the day–He thought for sure he was about to have his ass handed to him for something he’d surely done.

“Hangman.” Admiral Simpson stood at his desk to greet the aviator who looked a little green around the gill upon first entry. He gestured for the flight suit clad, broad shouldered man to sit in the empty seat beside you. “I'd like you to meet Lieutenant Y/N “Hollywood” Y/L/N, she’ll be joining us here for the foreseeable future.” Jake listened as he sat down beside you.

Without hesitation he sent you a strong smile that took up the entire expanse of his face, completely intoxicating and undeniably hollywood.

“It's nice to see some fresh meat around here, keep the competition guessing.” Jake chuckled as he extended his hand to shake yours. “I'm Lieutenant Seresin, Jake.” He was all confidence and cocky ego until you touched his hand, until your hand shook his back in a friendly gesture. Jake wasn't going to pretend that he didn't feel that sharp spark, that jolt of energy, that lighting strike that ignited his skin when you touched him. “But everyone calls me Hangman.”

“Hollywood here is actually joining us as a WSO Seresin.” Admiral Simpson explained as he let his elbows rest against the old oak desk that put some distance between where he sat and where Jake sat, completely unaware that your presence in North Island was about to completely change the trajectory of his career. “She’ll be your WSO.”

“I’m sorry–” Jake retracted his hand from yours as he shot Admiral Simpson a look, he had previously warned you of this reaction, so you chose to remain silent. Taking in your surroundings and observing Hangman's emotions. It was your job to be observant after all. “Since when do I fly with a WSO? I've never flown doubles before and I don't intend to start now.” Jake argued before he turned back to where you sat. “No offence sunshine, I'm sure you’re great and all, it’s just I don't particularly play well with others.”

“I'm more of a midnight rain kinda girl.” All you did was eye him off with an emotionless expression. Jake didn’t appreciate your tone, he did however appreciate the way your eyes nearly sparkled in the warm afternoon sun that came beaming through the window of Admiral Simpson's office. “I’m not too over the moon about working with you either.” It was a dig. “With a callsign as transparent as Hangman I’m sure I’m in great hands.”

“And I’m sure Hollywood has some outstanding depth to it.” Jake was quick on his feet with his comeback before he frowned a little more and turned his attention back to Admiral Simpson. “Why not Bradshaw?” He groaned, seemingly unimpressed by the decision to dump a WSO on him after years of flying solo. “He doesn’t have a WSO, or Coyote!”

It was then that Admiral Simpson pulled out a cream coloured file from his desk draw and slid it across his desk. He let out a sigh that told you someone wasn’t coming back from this one.

“Because we need it to be you.”

“Approach the canyon entrance with caution.” You directed from behind as you watched the Radar closely. “Remember, we only engage if absolutely necessary.”

“Once we’re in we make this quick.” Rooster spoke firmly, he had been a little hesitant to accept this detachment knowing its risk to reward ratio. But he’d been promised a shore leave after this. A well deserved vacation. “Let’s get to work.”

“Copy, heading into Risk Range now.” That was the name on the cream folder Admiral Simpson had passed you and Hangman on day one. Risk Range. Because once you were in there was no way of pulling you out. It was risky, and a mountain range that expanded as far as the eye could see. “Hollywood, have that laser guide ready for me.”

“On it.” It was like they knew you were coming, because as your radar began flashing with approaching enemy aircraft you knew immediately that they knew. It was a gut instinct.

“Rooster evade left! Hangman break right, we’ve got company.” Jake didn’t waste a second of time reacting accordingly. He broke right as Rooster tailed off. It was the very definition of an ambush, cold calculated and premeditated. “Jake!”

“Hangman on your left!” Rooster's voice came through panicked on the comms as Jake did his best to avoid the enemy aircraft that had seemingly come out of thin air: stealth pilots. Trained to be completely unseen until they wanted you to see them. “Break left!”

“Breaking left!” You twisted and turned and left fingerprints on the canopy as you tried your best to get a better visual. It was madness, pure madness. One two three six how many were there? “Come on, talk to me Hollywood, tell me what you see!” As Jake asked you what you saw you felt your heart pounding inside your chest as you saw a single missile. With wide eyes and panic racing through your veins, you spun around.

“Smoke in the air! Smoke in the air! Six o’clock Hangman break right!”

“Deploying flares!” It was only by the skin of what felt like his nose that Jake was able to avoid a direct hit. These guys were ruthless, where one was evaded another would pop up. “Rooster, talk to me man where you at?”

“I’m here! Hollywood, tell me what you see!” You could have sworn the next few seconds played out like a three hour long Christopher Nolan movie. Time stood still as Jake turned around to expose the full scene playing out on the big screen. A surface to air missile was aiming right for Bradley Bradshaw.

“Jake—“ It was a mumble, a murmur even. It threw a spanner in the cogs of this well oiled detachment you thought you knew everything about. Every angle, every concept, every reason why the three of you were specifically chosen. Because as Jake made a decision that would send the F-18 the two of you found yourselves to be in into the side of a mountain range, you realised there would be love lost, a hell of a lot of love lost if anything happened to Rooster. Bradley Bradshaw was Jake Seresin wingman, period. “It's on him.”

“Not if I can help it.” Jake mumbled under his breath as he swung around and headed straight for where Rooster was.

“Banit coming in hot on your tail Rooster, break right!” It was your confirmation that you were all in, every decision Jake made in the sky affected you and vice versa. There was nowhere to run, not here in this mess. “Jake, deploy flares!”

“Deploying flares!” It was only the smallest of miscalculations that caused it. If Jake had deployed his flares just three seconds prior, then perhaps you wouldn't have been hit. Perhaps you would have been able to save Rooster without sacrificing your own safety. Perhaps if Jake had deployed his flares just three seconds earlier, then the missile that hit the tail end of your F-18 with such force, that it blew the ass end right off the aircraft, wouldn't have knocked you out from the impact.

The explosion was the last thing you heard. The warmth of the fire that kissed your skin was the last thing you felt before everything was cold again. So cold. So cold that it almost burned.

“Y/n!” Jake shouted with a panic in his tone of voice as he shook you softly. “Hollywood! Wake up!” There was blood dripping from your nose, a sign Jake wasn't too keen on but other than that? He couldn’t see any other physical injuries. You still had both arms and legs. “Lieutenant Y/L/N wake up!” It was all so muffled, like you were under water, you could hear Jake calling your name, you could feel him shaking your body, but you couldn't talk, couldn't open your eyes. Until you did, slowly and with a groan. “Oh thank god.” It was the first thing you heard Jake say clearly without the muffled understone. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“What happened?” You asked softly as you tried to sit up. “Where are we?” Jake could recognise the panic taking over your being as he kneeled beside you, helping you to sit up with a groan. He noticed the way you held your ribs on the right side of your body, most likely bruised at the very least from the impact of your parachute deploying. “What happened?”

“We got shot down.” Jake said the four words no aviator ever wanted to hear. “You blacked out on impact.” He explained tentatively, not wanting to scare you any more than you already were. “I pulled your chute.”

“Rooster! Head back to the carrier, abort the mission!” It was the last thing Jake could communicate to his wingman before he lost his radio. The fighter jet was totaled, there was no saving it.

“Hollywood we gotta go! Punch out!” Jake shouted over the warning signals that blared in the cockpit as he spun out of control. There was no worse feeling than burning in. He hadnt experienced it often, only once before–but it still felt the same if not worse than that last time. “Y/n?” When you didn't respond Jake knew something was wrong, as he turned to look behind him he saw you slumped forward and unresponsive. “Dammit Hollywood!” Jake did the only thing he could think of that would help you– he reached over and pulled at the yellow and black ejection handle between your legs.

Almost immediately the canopy went flying as you shot out of the fighter jet. Jake saw your chute deploy–relief flooded his system before he pulled his own ejection handle. It sent him flying high into the sky at the speed of light. He just prayed when he hit the ground he’d be able to find you alive and well.

The time between the moment Jake hit the snow covered ground below to the moment he found you lying between the trees was far too long. He ditched his chute and ran and ran and ran until he was at your side. But there wasn't a mountain he wouldn't climb to reach you. That much was true. You were his WSO. His responsibility.

“Rooster?” You asked as it all came racing back. “Did he–?” You didn't even need to finish your sentence before Jake was giving you some sort of peace of mind.

“As far as I know he turned back to the carrier after we got hit. I haven't seen him doing any flyovers.” Jake explained softly as he assessed your current state. “How many fingers am I holding up?” You watched as Jake held his hand up in front of your face and moved it side to side. You followed his every move.

“Two.” You said confidently, still sitting in the snow. “I'm fine, promise, just a little bruised.”

“You think you can walk?” Jake was helping you to your feet before you even gave him a response. “I'm sorry you're in this mess with me, it's just–” It was your turn to interrupt as Jake wrapped your arm around his shoulders to help you stand. If you had seen him demonstrate this kind of behaviour three days ago you would have sworn black and blue you were dreaming, or that some fictitious creature from another realm had replaced the Jake Seresin you’d been flying with for the past few weeks. But after seeing his harrowing attapet to save his wingman's life without a single second of hesitation, you knew Jake actually cared about the people around him.

“It's fine.” You hissed as you took your first guided steps on wobbly legs after falling out of the sky. “You were protecting your wingman, I would have done the same thing.” Jake had a pretty nasty gash on the side of his head from when he’d landed pretty ungracefully. The side of his helmet cut into his temple on impact. “But now we’re down here, with no backup.”

“E-stats are still working.” Jake reminded you as he continued to help you further into the woods, hoping that it could break the chill of the raging wind. “They’ll see us, hopefully, if we just stay put surely the carrier will be able to track our location.” You knew right then and there that Jake was bluffing, you were smack bang in a communication desert.

“Hangman–” You sighed as he helped you sit down against a rock that was further in, Jake didn't miss the way you squinted as you did so, still holding your ribcage like something was wrong. “I don't think anyone will come back for us.” You did your best to try and block out the pain radiating whenever you took a breath in. “It would make more noise than they want to make.”

“You don't know my squad Hollywood.” Jake smirked as he shook his head slightly with a chuckle. He was right, you didn't know the lengths they’d all go to for each other. Jake reached out to cup your cheeks softly, the pad of his thumb swiped at the blood that had dripped down from your nose. “Someone will come, we just gotta get comfy till then.” There was a moment of silence that passed as Jake really took a moment to drink in your features. Even through all the snow and all the worry your eyes still sparkled the same way they did when he first met you in Admiral Simpson's office. “Your ribs? You think they’re broken?”

“Probably just bruised from the impact.” You replied, lost in your own mind as you stared at Jake’s features. From his eyebrows to his emerald green eyes that you swore swirled with desire. Everything was perfect, even the dusting of that five o’clock shadow that was threatening to expose his not so clean cut navy aesthetic.

“Can I have a look?” You missed the feeling of Jake's hand on your cheek the minute he was gone and had pulled away. You couldn't help but to chuckle as you compiled and started undoing your flight suit.

“You trying to cop a feel Seresin?”

“Would that be the worst thing in the world?” He teased back almost too quickly to not have already been on his mind. Jake was as careful as he could be when you had undone your flight suit enough to expose your black under shirt. He watched as you lifted up the cotton fabric enough so that he could press his palm softly against where your ribs were killing. His heart broke when you whimpered, he knew you were holding back as much as you could. “I know why they call you Hollywood, you know.” Jake thought a distraction from the pain and the situation in general would be good. He kept pressing his fingers around your side trying to see if he could feel anything unusual. He knew it hurt like hell, but when your eyes met his as he looked up at you from where he was kenaling beside you–he hoped the distraction helped.

“Oh yeah?” Jake could hear the pain in your voice as you tried to breathe through his poking and prodding. “What's the consensus?” You groaned through gritted teeth as tears threatened to spill down your cheeks.

“Your dads Rick Neven.” Jake concluded as he finished up his examination. “I thought maybe you were some childhood hollywood hotshot at first but then I overheard Mav telling Mando that you looked just like him.” Jake paused for a moment, reading the terrain of your reaction—when you didn’t totally annihilate him for figuring it out, he pressed on. “You don’t like people knowing you’re practically Navy Royalty, hence your mums maiden name.” He shrugged all the while you worked to fix your flight suit up. “And just like you said, just bruised, not breaks.”

It was hard to believe the same man who hadn’t really looked in your general direction for the better half of the time you knew him was paying this much attention to you now. But then again, he had been the one who got you into this mess in the first place. If you were gonna play the blame game.

“Guess there was some depth to it after all huh?” You referred back to the very beginning, to when you had first met Jake. He smiled at you with that golden boy grin that took over the entire expanse of his face.

“Yeah, yeah I guess there was.” Jake knew just by flying with you, albeit reluctantly, these past few weeks, that you were an extraordinary weapons systems officer. You knew your stuff as well as he knew his shit and together you actually made a pretty decent team. He’d been wrong about you personally though. He kept his distance knowing you were only supposed to be around for this particular detachment then you were off again. There was no real reason to get to know you when you'd be gone in the blink of an eye. But oh how Jake was kicking himself for that thought process. Because now here he was, stuck in the middle of nowhere with the very same WSO he’d been actively trying to not get to know. Something told him though the pair of you were going to have a hell of a lot of time to get to know one another. “The sun's starting to set, we should probably find somewhere to spend the night, maybe make a fire.” Jake looked around, trying to see if there was a place in eyesight where the two of you could make camp for the night. It wasn't ideal, but what else was there to do?

“Yeah–yeah that's probably–” Before you could finish your sentence you heard the unmistakable sound of tree branches being crushed under the weight of footsteps. You spun around to see what was behind you and your heart sank into your stomach.

Insurgents, pointing guns directly at you and Jake.

“Jake.” You whispered as you stood slowly, they didn't make any attempt to move from their positionings. Crouched behind rocks, trees and some were just out in the open. They were everywhere. Surrounding the both of you so that there was no way out.

“Get behind me.” It was the only thing Jake could think about, protecting you. He got you into this mess and he was sure as hell going to get you out of it. He ushered you behind him, making sure to keep turning periodically to look at all angles, wondering if there was by chance a way out of this. “Listen to me, you say nothing, you hear me?” Jake reminded you as he assessed how many you were outnumbered by. “No matter what you don't say anything.”

You’d seen movies before, what could happen to a woman held as a prisoner of war. You couldn’t help it when your mind went straight to that awful place.

“Jake, don't let them take me away from you.” It was the worst situation Jake had ever found himself in. “Please—don’t let them.” You begged as tears streamed down your face. You fisted at the back of Jake's flight gear he had yet to take off. Holding him as close to you as you possibly could. You were beyond terrified.

“Put your hands where I can see them!” One of the insurgents shouted as he stepped closer, still aiming his assault weapon directly at the two of you. “Don’t make any sudden movements besides raising your hands above your head.”

He was wearing all black clothes, they all were. Against the white of the snow it made them stand out like sore thumbs. But they did well enough to cover their faces. No identities were exposed besides your own and Jakes.

“I want your word that you won’t hurt her.” Jake growled as he began to raise his arms around his head. Palms facing out. You didn’t dare to move as Jake felt you balling his uniform in your hands a little tighter. “Don’t you touch her.” Jake had his attention drawn to the insurgent in front of him all the while you had your face buried between his shoulder blades—trying to shelter yourself from this hellscape. “Touch her and I swear I’ll kill you all.”

“Lieutenant, I highly doubt you're an incompetent man, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt when I remind you that you have absolutely no authority or power whatsoever in this situation.” The insurgent snickered as he approached closer. “Take the girl.” He tilted his chin in the direction of his men standing off to the side. Before you could react, they were on you.

“JAKE!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as one of them wrapped their arms around your waist and pulled you away harshly—Jake felt your hands slip from the Normex of his flight suit as he spun around to try and grab your wrist.

“Don’t touch her!” Jake warned again.

“No! No! Stop please—PLEASE!” Jake hated your pleas, your screams would forever haunt his heart. His fingers grazed yours as he whipped around to reach for you. “LET ME GO! GET OFF OF ME!”

“I SAID DONT TOUCH—“ Before Jake could finish his sentence he was in the ground lying in the snow face down. The insurgent making the orders had hit him over the back of the head with his gun. It was enough to make you stop struggling, enough to make you stop resisting.

There was a moment where you just stood there in the detainment of insurgents, taking in everything that was happening. Just how were you going to survive this? This wasn’t in the mission parameters.

“Get them to the truck, before we lose any more light.” The insurgent ordered before he turned around, shouting over his shoulder at his men. Jake lying out cold in the snow was the last thing you saw before it all went black. You felt a pinch at the side of your neck before everything went black and your knees gave in.

“Keep them alive, for now.” It was the last thing you heard before everything went numb. “I want answers.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Tags 🏷️ @americaarse @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @athenabarnes @imaginecrushes @whyareallnamesgone @mjmaximoffbarnes @amiets2 @mads-weasley @gabbyella @ephemeralninon @xoxabs88xox @pedrohoe04 @starkleila @je-suis-prest-rachel @clancycucumber230 @maisie-rebloging-blog @callsign-barbell @obiwankenobis-lap @some-lovely-day @paperbag333 @callsign-magnolia @jhiddles03 @hardballoonlove @shanimallina87 @seitmai @abaker74 @missemrose @starset21 @kmc1989 @phoenix1388 @emma8895eb

#bruises // jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #Jake Seresin Whump #jake hangman x y/n #jake hangman imagine #top gun hangman

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luna-writes-stuff · 1 year

Text

The type my favourite Arcane characters would fall for:

With Viktor, Jayce, Mel, Vi, Caitlin, Ekko, Jinx, Silco, and Vander

———————————————————————

Viktor:

Viktor is very much a person who prefers solitude over social interactions. He focuses on his job more than anything, and can not quite find the time nor energy to do anything after that. Though he loves to find solace in lonesome rooms, he needs a little sunlight occasionally; metaphorically and literally. Someone who drops in once every two hours to get him a drink, a note or simply sit next to him to distract him from his project momentarily. You could sit on an empty chair at his side, observing his work from a safe distance, careful to not shove your nose in there. Tiny questions would escape you, such as “what is that?” Or “why are you using that?”, and he would be delighted to answer them. Sometimes, he’d pull off his goggles to look at you shortly, a tiny smile gracing his face, before he returns to his work. You’d get along with Jayce quite easily - maybe too easy, but it’s all in good manners. Viktor tries to make time for you and take short breaks, but more often than not, he gets so caught up, he cannot afford the distraction. Jayce is more than happy to entertain you for the time being; he rather enjoys your presence as well.

——

Jayce:

Jayce oozes charisma. Now usually, fire and fire don’t go well, but match his energy, and this is man is smitten. Absolutely at loss for words. Desperately in love, if you will. You tease him; the words disappear on his tongue. Now come the heart-eyes. You’d walk down the halls, and you could simply feel his eyes on you. He’d halt any conversation he held and stare at you in silence. Respectfully. Would you work in the same lab as him, this man cannot focus to save his life. Your jokes, your smile, your witty remarks….He’s gone. The worst is when you radiate serotonin. A job gone right, a good song, a funny joke? Anything that makes you smile, makes his heart skip a step. You know that hollow feeling in your stomach, but the good one? That’s him. He’s quick to pick up on little things you do once you get excited: Clap your hands, squeal, jump up and down, squeezing your hands in fists? He sees it. And there is that pit again.

——

Mel:

Listen, this woman is so busy and booked, she tends to miss out on the little things. She needs someone who will take little times a day where they will take a short walk, or do some painting together. Anything to get her mind off of work or business for a short second. A spontaneous decision often takes her aback, as she likes to plan things out, but once she trusts you, it’s all in, baby. During council meetings, you’ll sit on the side, silently calming her down when things get hectic or chaotic. You help her plan things out, but leave room for the fun things. She treasures this so much, she cannot even begin to explain it to you. Small touches on your arm or hand constantly to remind her you’re still there. Ironically enough, it keeps her from overworking. You’re simply so soothing to her.

——

Caitlin:

Bamf. Do I need to elaborate? Caitlin is the type of person to see the good in everyone, no matter how tiny it will be. ‘How bad can they be?’ is a regular question from her. She can be attracted to anyone, really. But if there was one type to capture her heart, it’s the bamf. The person who says things as they are, does as they please, witty remarks, teasing winks etc. The impression you leave on her is large, and she is in awe immediately. Even if she claims to not be amused. She is. Her heart is almost beating out of her chest. Someone get her some help, please. If you start flirting with her, this poor woman does not know what to do. Her cheeks turn red, her ears heat up, she freezes on the spot. But she loves it so much, though she would never admit it. And it’s great to get her flustered.

——

Vi:

Sure, Vi would love a badass and independent partner. But when that partner has a soft spot for children? Always sees the good in everything? Smiles when someone says hi? Don’t get me started. The way your voice changes when you speak to someone in a friendly manner: gone. Bye-bye, Vi. She is a bit rough around the edges, and can come of as cold at times. You contradict that in the best ways possible. Your kind waves to everyone you pass, the ‘how are you?’ when trying to pay for something, your loving hugs…All the things she’d 100% fall for. No question about it. She insists on holding your hand at all times. She says it is because you like it, but let’s be honest. She is not planning on letting you go and likes to let everyone know, you are indeed taken. 10/10 the type to make-out in public when someone takes your friendliness a bit too extreme. Her hand tugging on your waist, the glare shot towards the one flirting with you? Oof.

——

Jinx:

Jinx has a teasing tone, as everyone might know. Though she could use someone to work against that, she would not necessarily find herself attracted to it. If you decide to throw a confetti bomb her way though? You just got yourself a new girlfriend. She is the type to cause mayhem anywhere and everywhere. If she finds someone to do that with, her heart is taken. There are times her emotions tend to get the best of her. You’ll have to calm her down gradually before she does anything stupid. Offer a listening ear, a supportive arm, and she’ll eventually calm down. She loves to do stupid things with you, but she needs breaks. Sit with her and help her tinker with new ideas. Your voice can truly be enough to simply soothe her.

——

Ekko:

Ekko has a soft spot for nerds, no one can convince me otherwise. And I’m not talking technology nerd. I’m talking info-dumping nerd. Someone who knows a little bit about everything. With anything he encounters, you are able to tell a fun story behind that. “Is that a raven?” “Actually, it’s a crow. Did you know crows actually remember people and voices and can even hold a grudge against you? Even worse, crows gossip. What? They do.” Man has fallen head over heels. Your little ranting and rambling makes him feel all giddy inside. He actually used to hate it, but as he grew to realize it was love, he began to accept it. Now, the feeling is welcomed. He can listen to you talk for ages, as cheesy as it might sound. And he remembers everything you tell him. Sometimes he wishes he didn’t, so you could tell him again. You know you ramble, and you have often been told to shut up. So, when you notice you’re ranting again, you always stop suddenly, offering a meek ‘sorry’. He will not hesitate to shake his head wildly, grabbing your hands in reassurance, claiming he wants to hear more. And it’s not to make you feel better, he genuinely enjoys your little talks. It’s one of the things that makes you so special to him. He treasures every single word spoken to him.

——

Silco:

Now, Silco is not an easy one to fall. Not at all. Even with you, it might not have been love at first sight. You had to grow on him. But your mind, and your strategies? They were phenomenal since day one. And though he simply shrugged at it at first, he found himself being attracted to you for that exact reason. You had a solution to every problem, and you had a way of thinking that he simply adored. And from there, he started noticing other things about you. Had your eyes always held that sparkle in them? Were your hands always that delicate? Had your voice always sounded that soothing? It wasn’t until you once laid a hand on his shoulder to shake him out of dreamland, that he realized that he had indeed fallen. Because that touch seemed to linger on his shoulder even as you walked back to your seat at the table. And your eyes silently asking him if he was okay, suddenly looked so different. And then it all clicks. From that day on, his behavior towards you completely changes. Now he wants you in the room with him. Now he wants your opinion on everything. Now you have to follow him wherever he goes. He needs you closer to him now than ever before.

——

Vander:

Listen. Dad friend meets mom friend. It’s meant to be, what else can I say? Your warm-hearted personality, the way you kneel down when talking to children, your reasonable words always interrupting fights. That’s just a short list of things he adores about you. Being the voice of reason, but with that compassionate tone is something he greatly admires. Perhaps more than people usually would. But of course, carrying the day on your shoulder and trying to remain kind to others can take quite a toll on a person. At night, when you’re sure others will no longer come look for you, you tire yourself with thoughts of the day. He often comes to visit you around this time so you will not be alone. You share your worries with each other, but also try to encourage each other to keep it up. Those talks are something so precious and intimate to him. And he keeps on doing these even after being your partner through the years.

#arcane #league of legends #viktor x reader #jayce x reader #mel medarda x reader #vi x reader #Caitlin x reader #jinx x reader #ekko x reader #silco x reader #vander x reader

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pathetic-sapphic · 9 months

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could u do some dom!jinx x innocent fem!reader drabbles with some smut? 🙏 i love ur work sm u write the headcanons so well 😭

Overstimulation with Jinx (18+)

a/n: here's one smut drabble to begin with! i'll write more in the future with different kinks and scenarios. thank you for the kind words and enjoy <3

''W-wait Jinx, baby please, I-I can't anymore-'', you begged as your girlfriend stared at your bound form, writhing against the vibrating wand which she tied so it rested snuggly against your abused clit. You were tied up on the bed, intricate designs holding your hands behind your back and your legs bent at the knees while wide open, all for her to see and marvel at. She was sitting in a swivel chair opposite of you, watching you trash about with a hand down her pants. Your pretty moans and whimpers always made her so wet, she adored having you so desperate for her. The fact that you'd willingly suffer and come over and over again just because she said so gave her an adrenaline rush. You lost count of how many times you came and, no matter how much you begged, she refused to stop or even lower the vibration level. How could she, when you looked so cute with your lips trembling and eyes tearing up. Jinx loved torturing you like this and she knew that you loved it too. Seeing your body twitch and try to escape the prediction she set you in was such a pretty sight. Jinx was quite a sadist, she'd coo at your sobs and lick away your tears, ordering you to thank her for all the pleasure she's giving you. Sometimes, she'd toy with you and turn the vibrator off completely, giving you a false sense of salvation. As soon as she saw your body relax and the look on relief appear on your face, she'd turn it up again. Chuckling, she comes to your side and grips your face, squishing your cheeks so hard that your lips form a pout and says; ''You didn't really think I'd let you go so soon, huh baby? Now, be a good girl and don't whine so much, otherwise I'll have to gag you and I don't think you'd like that, right? Good, I love you, trinket.''

#arcane #arcane drabble #arcane jinx #jinx #jinx x reader #jinx drabble #arcane jinx x reader #jinx x female reader #jinx x you #jinx x y/n #arcane jinx x you #arcane jinx x y/n

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lazycats-stuff · 8 months

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you know how you did you did another part of jinx and how he’s adapting to his new home, and we see him becoming more comfortable? Could you do the same idea and concept but with the weapon!reader???

Sure. My baby needs to get more comfortable. This gif is a symbol of (Y/N) fitting in. Batfamily & male!reader, PART 2 - first 2 part

Summary: (Y/N) won't be a weapon anymore.

Warnings: the family is trying to get (Y/N) comfortable, fluff, a little bit of angst,

It wasn't an easy feat to make (Y/N) comfortable. First thing that Bruce needed to do was establish the fact that (Y/N) will always have a choice. First thing he did was give (Y/N) a choice of choosing his own room.

(Y/N) was unsure what to do, because of the past experiences with choosing. He was never given a choice. He got what he got and that was it.

No more or less.

He picked a room at the end of the hall, opening the door. It was a nice spacious room, with his own bathroom.

" Since you don't really have clothes, you will have to borrow from Jason and Dick. We got you a toothbrush, tooth paste. Also, if you need something I am 3 doors down. " Bruce said, smiling softly at the teen.

" Alright. " (Y/N) said, entering the room.

" See you tomorrow then. " Bruce said, closing the door.

(Y/N) stood in his room, just looking. He was afraid to touch anything. Was this really his now? Did he really... Have an opportunity to choose?

He shook his head. He can't get comfortable. He really can't. But first, a shower is in order. He stinks a little bit. When he stepped out of the bathroom, he saw a pile of clothes on the bed. He looked at them.

For a split second he heard his handler's voice. He suppressed it and shook his head. If this is really a new life... He needs to let go. But that's always easier said than done. Everything in him was telling him not to do this, not to stay...

But... What if there was a chance to do leave everything behind? He pushed his hair back, licking his lips.

He will think more tomorrow. Right now, he needs to sleep. He is too tired to think.

Damian was in the garden, watching Titus run around happily letting out some energy. He went inside to replace the water inside Titus' water bowl. He frowned when he heard Titus coming in. He saw him walking from the corner of his eye.

When he got zoomies and when he was in the garden he didn't leave for a long while. He would only come in to sleep and eat. And to cuddle.

But he was always somewhere near Damian. Always.

Damian followed Titus quietly. He was going towards the bedrooms and he entered (Y/N)'s.

Damian rose his brow and he slowly walked over to the bedroom door.

" Hey Titus. " Was all that (Y/N) said, before he sighed. There was a little bit of shuffling and then it was silence. Damian poked his head in and saw something that Grayson would have thought to be adorable.

Titus was laying on (Y/N)'s chest, acting like a heavy blanket. Damian also noticed tear tracks on (Y/N)'s cheeks. (Y/N) froze when he saw Damian. He quickly shushed (Y/N) and raised his hands in defense.

" I was just wondering where Titus went. " Damian said, sitting down on the chair near the desk.

" You are feeling torn. " Damian said, watching (Y/N)'s face.

(Y/N) just nodded sheepishly.

" I know you just came and feel like you can't talk to anybody, but you can with me. Whatever you say to me, it's going to be in between us. " Damian said, watching as Titus shifted a little bit.

" I thought about this situation the first night I was let out of the cell. How... much more... It's not easy to think about it. "

" I know how you feel. I was thinking about the same thing. Although, I was way more rebellious. I didn't know what to think... But in the end, this is the best place to be. "

" You felt the same way? " (Y/N) asked, patting Titus' head.

" I did. Torn between all I knew for the first 10 years of my life and a new permanent environment. "

" How did you get over the dilemma? "

" I just accepted the mix of the two. " Damian said, shrugging his shoulders. " Of course, that doesn't have to work for you. " Damian added, watching as (Y/N)'s eyes got a little bit watery.

" I don't think I can let go. Every time I have tried to, just a little bit, I hear my handler's voice. "

Damian nodded. " If you ever need Titus, you can always take him. But he always has that sense for someone with anxiety so he will always go to you. " Damian said, petting Titus.

" Thanks Damian. "

Jason got back from patrol and he was desperate for a smoke. And if he was interrupted, may God help anyone who does that. He showered and changed into the more comfortable clothes. Afterwards, he opened the window and got out on the roof.

He was shocked to find that (Y/N) was already there, smoking too. They looked at the each, wondering what to do. Should they just go separate ways?

" We can smoke in silence? " Jason offered. " Trust me, I need it after the patrole and I don't want anybody to see me. " Jason said, seating next to (Y/N).

" Fine by me. " (Y/N) said, taking an another drag.

They did just that. Silence was prominent and they were just enjoying a good smoke. Jason because patrol was awful and full of shit, (Y/N) because of the thoughts going through his mind.

" Soooo... How are you settling in? " Jason asked, just to fill in the silence.

" It's going slowly. "

" You are feeling torn. " Jason said, taking a drag. He let the smoke out as he watched (Y/N).

" How do you know? " (Y/N) asked, taking a second cigarette.

" I can see it. And you are almost like Damian, but Damian was way more combative and rebellious. He tried to escape the manor multiple times. You are an angel compared to him. " Jason said, chuckling at the attempts.

" Is that why there are defenses? " (Y/N) asked, tilting his head.

" Yes and no. It's against burglars and other more trained people. You know, Bruce has a lot of enemies as a CEO and you know. " Jason said, waving his hands around.

" Huh. Why can I see that? " (Y/N) said, looking off into the distance.

" It's because you met Damian more thoroughly. Because of that you can see it. " Jason explained, leaning back down on the roof.

" He can be nice. " (Y/N) said, huffing out the smoke.

" When he is sleeping maybe. " Jason said, laughing quietly. " You two can bond over the fact of being trained as weapons. And trauma you two share. " Jason said, finishing his cigarette.

" Trauma bonding. " (Y/N) said dryly, also finishing up his cigarette. " Can I ask you something? " (Y/N) started. He thought about asking this for a while now, but he has never gathered any courage until now.

" Sure. What's up? "

" I am kind of tired of being couped up in here. I was wondering if... Bruce said anything about me going on patrol? " (Y/N) finished, looking straight ahead.

" He really didn't say anything... Don't worry, he has it in mind. He just wants to make sure you settle here. " Jason said, moving to the window. It was getting cold.

" He wants to make sure that you are in the right mindset. Patrol is important to him and he doesn't want you to be distracted. " Jason explained moving inside.

(Y/N) looked at the place where Jason was sitting down just moments before. Maybe. Just maybe.

Tim sighed as he was trying to find Black Mask. He was a slippery little shit who was keeping a low profile. Tim sighed quietly, rubbing his eyes. Tim turned his head to see (Y/N) coming into the cave. Tim liked (Y/N).

" Black Mask? " (Y/N) asked, moving closer to big computer. He had a general idea who that man is and what he does. But he wasn't different than the targets that (Y/N) was killing.

" Yup. I can't track him down for the life of me. " Tim said, leaning back. " How would you do it? " Tim asked, ready to get some help.

" Well, I would look for his second in command and torture him until he gives me the info. Of course, I would make sure that it's all incognito and what not. I assume you are not allowed to torture? " (Y/N) asked, making Tim nod.

" Well, we can't find his second in command either. " Tim explained.

(Y/N) looked at the screen, making him wonder. How would he approach this?

" Then look for his lieutenants. They are always in contact with the second in command. " (Y/N) said. " And if that doesn't work, then you have to look at the safe houses. Black Mask is in the city. " (Y/N) said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

" I hate him. " Tim declared making (Y/N) chuckle quietly. He wasn't the only one.

Dick was happy about this. It was the time where the family could have a movie night and they could be together to bond as a family. More so, (Y/N) could get more comfortable and that was a priority.

To absolutely everyone.

Dick went upstairs and basically dragged (Y/N) down. (Y/N), of course, allowed it. To Dick, that was a sign that (Y/N) got more comfortable.

(Y/N) was made to sit down on the couch, then covered with a blanket.

" What is happening? " (Y/N) asked, clearly confused.

" A movie night! Tonight, it's going to be Harry Potter movies. " Dick said, clearly excited.

" Harry Potter? "

Everyone stopped and looked at (Y/N). Bruce tried not to feel sad and tried to ignore that feeling that feeling in his heart. What the hell?

" Okay, so let me give you a brief summary. " Dick said, quickly giving (Y/N) a quick summary.

Everyone glanced at each other. They were going to give (Y/N) a brand new childhood. Starting with Harry Potter movies.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #batkids #tim drake x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #platonic relationsips

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kikiiswashere · 1 year

Text

Waltzing for Three

Summary: You're impossibly pregnant and uncomfortable. Luckily, Silco and Jinx are there to help you out.

Warnings: None/SFW

WC: 2.7K

SilcoxAFAB!Reader, established relationship, found family fluff

Notes: I have no idea where this came from, but this little drabble wouldn't leave my brain. So, please enjoy some domestic, soft Silco

------

It seemed entirely improbable that a human should ever fit into the tiny cloth you held up between your hands. The onesie was freshly laundered, the fabric impossibly soft under your fingers. You smiled, flipping it, and placing it against your swollen belly like a sticker. The pull of your lips broadened, revealing your teeth in a bright grin as your womb’s occupant gently patted their small feet or fists against their future wardrobe. Peeling the onesie away, you folded it and set it on the growing pile that had been started on the coffee table.

Nesting, they called it. A deep, primal urge to ready one’s space for a new baby. You hadn’t completely written off the people and books that had mentioned this phenomenon, but you were very surprised at the insistence and intensity of the inclination as you breached your third trimester. Especially since the pregnancy wasn’t planned, and since you and Silco were cautiously excited and anxious about the little one’s arrival. You figured your nervousness may sway nature’s tendencies; alas, she had a stronger pull than you realized.

A groan rattled through your teeth as you reached for the next article of baby clothing. Despite the happy anticipation with which you waited; your body was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. The first trimester was marked with nausea and tender, growing breasts; the second, digestive woes seceded and your bump bloomed proudly before you. You had felt beautiful and divine (and Silco had told you as much). Now, in your third, the glow of pregnancy was wearing off. You couldn’t breathe. You had to pee all the time. Your once confident and saucy gait had been reduced to a gimping waddle – like a fat whump. It hurt to exist; you and the baby fighting for space in your stretched out body.

Silco looked up from his desk at the displeased sound.

His scratching pen paused and he asked, “Are you alright, lovely?”

Internally, you felt your eyes cross. While you appreciated his doting behavior, part of you was sick and tired of being treated like a fragile, delicate thing. As your due date neared, every single utterance you made had Silco checking in. When you cleared your throat in your morning shower, he’d pop his head into the bathroom. When your inhale hitched up as you attempted to take a deeper breath, he looked at you expectantly. Once, you had stifled a wayward burp and he had shot up from his desk, looking at you with wide, waiting eyes.

“I’m eight and a half months pregnant, Silco,” you sighed, folding the onesie you had just plucked from the laundry basket. “I’m tired and it hurts to move. It hurts to be still. My hips and lower back are killing me.”

“Shall I pour a tub for you?”

Sitting back on the red tufted couch, you smiled appreciatively at your partner before lifting your gaze to the large window behind him. While the Undercity was always darker than the surface, you could tell by the light glowing behind its many panes that it was only early evening. If you took your nightly tub now, it wouldn’t be long before you fell asleep. Which would mean the baby would kick you awake in the predawn hours.

“No. Thank you, though. I don’t want to get ready for bed quite yet.”

An understanding hum rolled through the back of his throat. He put his pen down and pushed his chair away from his desk, making to stand. Setting the carefully folded onesie on top of the others, you reached into the basket, pulling out one that made you smile with soft fondness. It was black, with bright scribbles of blue and pink dancing in jagged designs across the fabric. It was an utter relief to you both that Jinx was just as excited about the baby. Given her traumatic past with siblings, you and Silco were initially nervous about sharing the news with her.

However, per usual, she surprised you with her reaction. When you had told her (being very mindful to repeat the fact that you and Silco would not love or cherish her any less), she tittered with excitement and fidgeted more than usual in Silco’s lap as she gazed at you with awe, her big, blue eyes tracking between your face and your (then, still unassuming) belly. Her small hands twitched and flexed, and she bit her lower lip.

“You can touch them,” you had chuckled. “But you won’t feel anything right now. Not yet.”

In a flash, Jinx’s hands were on your abdomen, inspecting.

“Gentle, Jinx,” Silco reminded.

She heeded his instruction, but her attention was fully on your stomach. Her small but dexterous hands padding over you in wonder.

“I’m the big sister,” she whispered, and both you and Silco shared a look over her head. She leaned in closer, lightly pressing her cheek to you. She wrapped her skinny arms around you and said, “I’ll never leave you. Okay? You can count on me.”

Your throat tightened and your eyes welled at her promise. Cursing your raging hormones, you pulled the girl into your chest for a tight hug. Once she was settled, you reach over her and pulled Silco into the embrace with a tug on his tie.

The soft, fuzzy sound of music flowing through Silco’s gramophone pulled you from your memory. Your head swiveled around to see him lift his hand away from the needle. He pivoted the sound horn just so before turning and walking over to you. Reaching out, he gestured for the onesie in your hands. You gave a quizzical look, but handed the garment over. Deftly folding it, he placed it on the pile and then held both hands out to you. Your eyes rolled and a playful scoff tsk’d behind your teeth. Nevertheless, you gripped his offered hands, and using your combined strength, hauled your massive, front-heavy form to its swollen feet.

You groaned as Silco steadied you, your skeleton adjusting and succumbing to the pull of gravity.

“I don’t know how good of a waltz partner I’ll be right now,” you sighed, waddling to the center of the office.

“Never fear, my lovely. I won’t hold it against you.”

Silco slid in behind you, nestling his front to your back. He wrapped his arms around you, but lower than usual. Before you could question it, his hands cupped the underside of your belly . . . and then hoisted up.

Janna’s sweet tits . . . the relief!!

It was immediate and euphoric. Your jaw dropped, head lulling back onto Silco’s shoulder. You were simultaneously melting and floating. The weight of your huge stomach being lifted off the aching and stretched cradle of your hip bones was heavenly. A long, loud, rattling groan tore through your mouth.

Silco chuckled. “Is that so?”

Weakly nodding against him, you matter-of-factly said, “If it wasn’t such a chore to get down and back up again, I get on my knees and blow you right now.”

A deeper laugh rumbled through his chest and he kissed your temple.

“Perhaps I can get a raincheck, then?”

A gooey smile, stupid with reprieve, spread across your face. You turned to look up towards your partner, and he was quick to kiss you. His lips were warm and firm against yours, just like his hands on your belly. Your and Silco’s lips molded seamlessly against one another; top and bottom lips taking turns puzzling against their neighbors. It was lovely, intimate, easeful, and unassuming. Giving him one last, lingering kiss on his scarred lip, your head lulled into the crook of his shoulder and neck. Silco readjusted his hold on your belly, and you both kept swaying to the music softly warbling through the office.

After a few minutes, the babe within you wriggled into a new position, punching, or kicking, across Silco’s wide hands. You felt his hold tighten and his chest swell. The fact that he was so quietly excited made your knees wobbly with adoration.

“They’re a good dancer,” you whispered. “Just like their dad.”

Silco huffed a small laugh and you were thrilled to see the color rise in his cheek out of the corner of your eye.

Before he could administer a witty retort, there were a series of thumps and mutterings above your heads. Then soft, shuffling scratches and mumbled thoughts traveled further through the ceiling. Both of your heads followed the noise, bodies gently turning in time with the sway of your feet, until you were both facing Silco’s desk.

From the rafters, you heard a small voice take a deep breath and whisper, “Okay . . . Three, two . . . one!”

Jinx leapt from her platform and tumbled onto Silco’s desk. Even though this was not a new behavior for the girl, what was new was the way your heart leapt in your throat, and the way you winced at her clumsy landing. A few times, you had read how a parents’ brain (especially the parent that carried the child) changed; how things that never used to bother or scare them suddenly mattered when it came to the safety of their little one.

You had expected it, but you were not looking forward to the ‘worrying’ part of parenthood – especially in a place like Zaun. Especially in the positions you and Silco held. Especially since Jinx did not seem to have any sense of self-preservation.

She dusted her knees off and leapt up. “I finished it!” She proclaimed, flourishing a large piece of white parchment with scribbles all over it.

“Oh? Let’s see then,” you said, awkwardly leading you and Silco toward the desk, making sure he still held up the weight of your bump.

Jinx flopped onto her seat on the desk’s top, kicking her gangly legs over the edge. Adjusting the paper in her hands, she thrust it forward proudly for inspection. Your heart swelled at the sight of it, and it was a weight you were glad to hold within your bosom.

For the past week, Jinx had been designing the baby’s room. What color it would be; where the furniture would go; what art she was going to put on the wall; where the toys would live; where she was going to keep a sleeping bag and pillow in case she and the baby decided to have a slumber party.

Excitedly, loudly, and quickly, Jinx began to take both you and Silco through each detail she had laid out. You listened attentively, still weaving to the music.

“And this is where his toys will be stored . . . over here is his dresser . . . this is his changing table. I’m still trying to figure out how to create a super-sealed-smelly bin in case his diapers are extra stinky . . . “

As beautiful and sweet as it was, your heart couldn’t help but tap a little nervously as Jinx went on about ‘his this’ and ‘he that’. You weren’t sure what the sex of the baby would be – and you, annoyingly, felt like you never got a good, motherly sense of it. Somedays you were certain it was a boy; then a few days later, it felt like it could be a girl; then you wouldn’t be sure at all. Regardless, you both had tried over the last several months to temper Jinx’s insistence that she would be having a brother. But she wouldn’t hear it.

“I don’t want another sister!” she would cry, stomping her feet.

Of course, you and Silco would be happy with either, or whoever the baby turned out to be. But you were quietly hoping that Jinx would get the brother she was expecting.

As she continued explaining the sorting system of the dresser, a knock came at the office door. All three of you paused, Jinx’s face falling into an aggravated expression at being interrupted. Silco guided you both to turn toward the door.

“Come in.”

At this time of day, it could be only one person; and, indeed, Sevika let herself into the office. She froze at the sight before her. It wasn’t new per say – this domestic scene – but it clearly wasn’t one she was getting used to. She huffed and closed the door behind her.

“We have an issue,” she said, stepping forward.

Again, you felt the pads of Silco’s fingers press more firmly against your bump. Whether he was conscious of the way his arms stiffened to pull you closer, you weren’t sure. It made your heart melt regardless.

“An issue that you cannot sort on your own?” he asked. You could hear by his tone that he was sneering at her. As your due date grew nearer, Silco had made an effort to delegate as many tasks as he could so he could be close.

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” Sevika replied, barely keeping her temper in check. “Marcus is on his way. About that Councilor’s kid OD-ing on Shimmer.”

A gruff sigh passed through Silco’s lips. He rolled his eyes and said, “Very well. Go get the VIP booth in the mezzanine ready. I’ll be there shortly.”

Since you had become pregnant, Silco no longer took meetings in his office. It didn’t quite make sense, since it was not a secret that you two were expecting. But it seemed to bring him some modicum of peace, so you hadn’t questioned it.

“Good night, Sevika,” you called as she turned to leave.

She nodded and half-heartedly waved a hand in your direction before leaving and closing the door. Silco let out a gentler, more forlorn sigh once she was gone.

“I’m sorry, my lovelies,” he said, addressing you, Jinx, and the baby, you realized, as his hands gently caressed your bump. “Duty calls, unfortunately.”

“No!” Jinx cried. “I wasn’t done showing you his room!”

She brandished the blue print at him, her blue eyes going big and watery.

“I know, child,” he cooed, leaning his head toward her. “I would love to see and hear the rest if I am finished before your bedtime. If not tonight, tomorrow over breakfast. Agreeable?”

Jinx’s shoulders and lower lip slumped forward, but she nodded.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Silco whispered against your temple before planting a kiss there. Your daughter was already laying on the guilt pretty thick, so you restrained your reaction and merely nodded in understanding.

“Ready?” he asked, indicating his hold on you.

Something between a whine and groan pealed out of your throat at the thought of being saddled with the weight of your giant belly again. You began to nod, but Jinx jumped off the desk with renewed excitement.

“Let me! Let me! I can do it!”

She jockeyed in next to Silco, awkwardly wrapping her arms around you.

Your partner’s soft chuckle vibrated through your chest, and he said, “Come stand over here, Jinx . . .”

You stood dutifully still as Silco patiently guided Jinx into the correct stance, placing her arms and hands appropriately and instructing her to widen her feet to accommodate her shorter height.

“Ready? I’m going to let go. Don’t drop them.”

“I won’t! I won’t! I can do it!”

You felt Silco’s hands and arms recede, transferring the weight of you and the babe to Jinx. A small laugh escaped you as you felt the small girl behind you squeak and brace herself. To her credit, she did manage to keep your womb off your hips.

“Oh my gosh! Why is he so heavy?” Jinx exclaimed.

“You’re doing wonderfully, Jinx,” Silco applauded as he rounded you both.

He brought a hand up to your face and held it against your cheek, looking you in the eye earnestly.

“I am sorry.”

You leaned into his hand and shrugged, as you and Jinx began to sway to the music again.

“You can make it up to me later,” you said coquettishly.

That sliver of a smile that was reserved only for you (and now Jinx. And soon, baby) cut across Silco’s lips. He leaned forward and kissed you.

“Good luck,” you said as he broke away. “Give Marcus my best.”

Silco rolled his eyes, ocean and fire flicking up to the ceiling. He reluctantly took his hand from your cheek and strode for the office door.

“Give him hell!” Jinx grunted from behind you.

You laughed, patting her hands with yours. Silco did not respond, but you saw his shoulders quake with amusement as the door closed behind him.

------

Notes: Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please comment and reblog!

#silco #silco fanfic #silco x reader #silco x f!reader #silco x afab!reader #silco x pregnant reader #soft!silco #found family #silco fluff #jinx #sevika #domestic fluff

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queenimmadolla · 1 year

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Hey, me again! Sorry to bother you but I wondering if I can send a request about my favourite family (but of course remember to take the time you need to write this or completely ignore this request if you don't like it)? I was thinking about the reader coming back home from an afternoon with the other girls and once she comes back, she sees the most adorable scenario she has ever seen. Eddie and the other boys sitting on the tiniest chairs ever, wearing tiaras, make up, fake earrings, playing having tea with Penny and her stuffed animals. Idk, I thought it was cute😅

But Again, feel free to ignore this request if you don't want to write it. Thank you and I hope you have a nice day❤️

this was such a cute request for them and i enjoyed every single second of writing it. i hope i did it justice and i hope you enjoy!

𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐞𝐚 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬

(girl dad!eddie munson x mom!reader/pregnant!reader)

warnings: imagery of men in terrible makeup and mentions of pregnancy (reader is pregnant) more penny, eddie and reader (and baby wayne) adventures here :)

If someone were to have told younger you, you’d be a mom before you were the age of 21, you probably would have punched them in the face, strictly because of the implication and the jinxing. While having a baby was something you entertained after seeing a particularly cute one out in the world or something, you weren’t overly fond of the idea of raising a tiny human with someone or even on your own. You considered yourself much too selfish for that.

…However, if someone were to have told you you’d have Eddie Munson’s–one of three local freaks and town urban legend in the making—babies, you probably would have given them the keys to your car and maybe the deed to your parents’ home.

Your crush on the metal head had a lasting effect on you. When you’d actually begun dating him, falling head over ass in love, being with him was all that mattered to you and it didn’t feel pathetic because it was all he wanted, too.

Immediately after graduation came marriage and then Penny, your cute little Oopsie as Eddie referred to her when she was in your tummy. You preferred it over his original nickname for her, which was Creampie, seeing as how he was sure that was how she’d been conceived. You forced him to change it.

Of course, since you had said baby with another on the way, you had to provide for them. Eddie had already been employed at an autoshop—his skill with the mechanics of a car was probably what led to Penny’s conception, you just couldn’t help yourself when faced with Grease Monkey Eddie—and Eden got you a job with her at her father’s firm as his partner’s receptionist.

It worked out pretty well, Eden didn’t have a car so you’d pick her up before work since she’d rather jump off her roof than drive with her dad, who was also her boss, then afterwards you’d drive back to the trailer where Eddie and Argyle would be waiting for the two of you (if Argyle wasn’t off, she’d chill with your little family until he came to get her because she didn’t want to go home and you couldn’t blame her).

Normally, your job wasn’t super stressful, you’d just been exhausted lately, though you didn’t exert yourself (Eddie would never allow it).

Today you had felt every agonizing second of the work day, it had been so slow. You’d done all the filing, made all the copies, called all the people, there just hadn’t been as much going on as usual and after you’d managed to make it to lunch time, the last half of your shift was spent staring across the room at Eden, both of you blinking owlishly at each other, staring contests, trying to get paper airplanes to reach the other, anything to stave off the boredom. Suddenly, you couldn’t wait til you could take maternity leave.

After work, you’d both practically sprinted to your car, the ride was spent bitching about the work day. The closer you got to your home, the more life you felt began to fill you; energy the work day had sucked away returning to you at the notion of seeing Eddie and Penny.

If you had known exactly what you’d be walking into, you may have transcended into a higher level of joy.

You and Eden were still chatting as you shut your car doors, still shedding the weight of the work day. She’d been talking about moving in with Argyle, something she was desperate to do but her parents were still hesitant about when you unlocked the front door, pushing it open for her.

Eden had walked through the doorway and stopped, causing you to run into her back.

“What’s the hold up?” You asked, peering around her shorter frame. The sight made you gasp.

“Hi, honey!” Eddie greeted you, grin so wide it almost looked like it hurt.

Eddie, Argyle and Jonathan—always dragged around with Argyle—were crouched in tiny pink plastic chairs (much too small for them to actually allow their weight to rest in, lest they break them) around the small table in the living room, which was cluttered with various kitchen utensils and Penny’s pink tea set.

Not an unusual sight, since they always indulge your three year old. What was new was the bright colors adorning their faces.

Eddie had on bright purple eyeshadow (complete with poorly replicated wings of eyeliner), cheeks powdered with an even brighter pink and lips coated in a deep shade of red lipstick, meticulously applied judging by the precision. Pink clip-on earrings dangled from his lobes and around his waist was one of Penny's pink tutus—stretched to its limit.

Argyle’s long dark locks were in two high, messy ponytails. His eyes were decorated with a blue eyeshadow (ruined with various marks and stains of mascara), cheeks powdered bright red and lips a coral orange. His tutu was purple and his earrings were red.

But Jonathan…oh, Jonathan. His eyeshadow was pink, cheeks pink, and lipstick a bright red. Penny was always more gentle with Jonathan, for some reason. His makeup didn’t look as messily applied as the majority of Argyle’s and Eddie’s. Unlike with them, Penny had attempted to draw on eyelashes for him, and he had smatterings of glitter sporadically around his face. Not only did he have one of her pink tutus and green earrings, he also got the privilege of wearing her favorite pair of fairy wings.

He refused to make eye contact with you, staring into the tiny, plastic tea cup clenched in his hand.

“Hi, babe. What happened here?” You asked, hand moving to hide your smile, though you were pretty sure it was obvious. Penny—dressed in her pink princess dress and a purple feather boa, pretty little face also covered in makeup with a plastic crown carefully placed on her head to make sure her curls didn’t get tangled in the combs of it (Eddie had to have put it on her)—returned from the hallway closet where her toy box was located, arms full of her stuffed animals, all of which she dropped the moment she saw you.

“Mommy!” She squealed and you squatted down to allow her to run into your arms as Eden stepped out of the way and disappeared into your room. “LOOK, MOMMY! I made daddy and unca Ahgle and unca Johnny puddy!”

“Uh huh,” was all you could say without laughing.

“We awe having a tea pa’ty.” Penny informed you after she’d unwound her arms from around you, giving your baby bump a gentle pat before she ran back over to scoop up her stuffies. They were placed in the other empty plastic chairs surrounding the table and actually looked like they fit in the tiny seats, unlike the grown men.

“Do you think I’m pretty, mama?” Eddie asked, batting his eyelashes at you with his red lips pulled into a mischievous smirk. Eddie was no stranger to makeup, you’d done his eyeliner for gigs plenty of times and he could now do it on his own, but that only involved lining his waterline and tightlining, not wings.

He and Jonathan had silently stared at themselves in the bedroom mirror, self reflecting on how they got themselves in this position, for longer than either of them would care to admit. But Eddie would do anything for Penny and he knew you would get a crack out of seeing him like this.

Argyle was too high (it was a perpetual thing at this point, he’d been stuck in a high since back in high school) to care, although he’d wanted his ponytails braided and Penny wouldn’t allow it.

“I think you’re something,” You offered through your giggles and Eddie chuckled along with you, stopping only when a flash of bright light momentarily lit up the room and blinded him.

Eden lowered the Polaroid camera she’d retrieved from your room, plucking the picture that whirled out.

She shook it briefly and examined the developing photo with a careful eye before she smirked.

“Oh, this is a good one. I gotta make a copy of this for Nance.”

Jonathan stood up then, kind of. His butt was still stuck in the tiny chair so it went with him. “Eden, give me the photo.”

Eden took that as her cue to take another one, cackling as she grabbed the film.

Jonathan began to advance.

“Eden—I mean it, give me the pictures—EDEN!” He shouted as she bolted out of the front door. He ran (as best as he could with a tiny chair attached to his ass) after her with Argyle following him to play instigator.

“Run, baby, run!” Then when he realized he’d be in both pictures as well, “GET HER, JONATHAN!”

Eddie was howling with laughter, causing Penny to join in even though she hadn’t been paying attention to what was going on. Once he calmed down, he stood up from his chair, pulling the thing off of his hips, he moved it to the side and sat on the carpet, patting the spot between his legs to beckon you over.

You set your bag on the counter and went over to join them, settling between his legs as you leaned back into his chest with his encouragement for cuddles. Eddie pressed a kiss to your forehead, no doubt leaving a kiss stain as Penny set a little tea cup on a plastic plate down in front of you.

“He’we you go, mama.”

“Oh, thank you, Penny!” You lifted the teacup by its tiny handle and pretended to take a sip. “That’s very good!”

“Yes,” she stated, pleased and already distracted with arranging her stuffed animals in their seats.

“Long day?” Eddie asked, mumbling against the side of your head as he continued to press kisses wherever his lips could reach. He’d clocked the lingering bits of tension and stress on you the moment you’d walked into the trailer, he also swore he had a sixth sense tied to you somehow, because he could always tell when something was wrong. He’d get bouts of anxiety at work and come home to find out you’d had a terrible day, so he’d taken to just calling you when the feeling popped up.

He hadn’t been wrong yet.

“Yeah,” You sighed, turning onto your side as you burrowed further into Eddie and the soft shirt he wore. “It’s better now, though.”

He hummed as you lifted your head, lips puckered. With a grin, he closed the small distance, giving you your ‘welcome home’ kiss.

“Awww!”

You broke away, the two of you smiling as your attention was drawn to your daughter, who looked shy and had a small smile of her own as she wrung her little hands together.

“You kissed.”

Eddie chuckled, chest shaking against you.

“We’ve kissed before, baby.” He pointed out. She’d witnessed you exchange thousands of (appropriate) kisses in front of her but lately she’d been cooing every time Eddie showed you affection. You thought she may like seeing you two love each other like the couples in the cartoons she watched.

“Yes.” She giggled into her little palms, shoulders rising as she became even more bashful.

You shook your head in amusement, raising a hand to rest your chin in, thumb absentmindedly stroking over your lower lip. You were surprised to see a shade of red over the skin of your thumb, considering you’d worn a nude shade of lipstick.

Oh. Eddie’s lipstick. Right.

Then you got to thinking about it, the gears in your head turning as your eyebrows furrowed.

“Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“Where’d you get this makeup?”

Eddie and Penny exchanged nervous glances and there was a long pause in between your question and his answer, deciding to try to get out of this like his daughter often tried to.

“Yes.”

“Eddie, is this my makeup?!”

“Baby, I have to go pee, can you move real quick?”

“You’re not getting away, answer the question!”

Yes. It was your makeup.

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sevikaspillowprincess · 7 months

Text

Okay, imagine Sevika falling head over heels for reader and not knowing how to deal with it as it’s her first time liking someone with intense feelings.

She’d be so awkward. I reckon she’d have little malfunctions where her brain just stops working because reader is so pretty. Trips over a chair once and face plants. Stays on the ground so when reader turns to look for the noise she doesn’t get seen.

Silco thought he was loosing his shit because all in one sitting he’d heard Sevika giggle, snort and watched her blush a lovely crimson. All because reader was present. Silco stared in shock for so long his cigar went out.

Jinx almost fell out of the rafters one time because after reader had left the room and Sevika had secured the door she’d skipped merrily back to her desk. Jinx caught herself just in time but was promptly cussed out of the room by an enraged and embarrassed Sevika.

Poor woman fully took a beating to the face one time during a fight because reader had swayed their hips a little to much and her eyes had autopiloted straight to readers ass. Ran didn’t stop giving her shit for it until her broken nose had healed.

#sevika #arcane #arcane sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika imagine #zaunite #sevika headcannon

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starrystevie · 1 year

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steve loves the warmer months. he loves the tail end of spring that bleeds into summer, the feeling of sun on his skin and sleeping with a window open. he's the person who puts all of his warm winter clothes away the second the weather starts turning and refuses to get them back out again even if it's chilly because he doesn't want to jinx the weather back into being cold.

their false spring came early with a day reaching up to 81 degrees in march that had steve sitting in a lounge chair in the backyard, his shirt sleeves rolled up and head tilted to the sun like a cat in a warm spot. he went back inside later that evening with his cheeks tinged baby pink and feeling warmed to the core only to shove his coats back into storage and get out his summer clothes.

but the warmth seeped away as soon as it came and they were back in a cold snap full of defrosting cars and sleeping with the windows fully shut.

steve's pouty, his arms halfway covered by an old baseball tee as he shivers against the brisk air outside of eddie's house to pick him up for their date. he rubs his hands over his arms trying to get some warmth back into them, bouncing on his toes slightly. the second eddie opens the door, steve pushes past him into the warmth with his arms wrapped around his center to keep whatever body heat he could in.

"cold?" eddie asks with a smug grin, nice and warm under his leather jacket as steve sends him back a playful sneer. see, eddie loves the cold weather, despises when he starts to sweat under all his layers and hides away in the shade to outrun the sun's heat.

"not cold, just a little chilly, that's all."

eddie rolls his eyes and grabs a sweatshirt off the counter like he knew to be prepared. it's folded and smells like him, woody and earthy, and when he hands it to steve, he gives him a little kiss to help warm him up before wrapping him into a hug.

"i swear, you come over here looking like a popsicle just so you can steal my clothes. i know your secrets, harrington."

steve leans back in eddie's grasp to pull the sweatshirt on quickly, smooths over his hair where he knows it must have puffed up, and brings his sweater-covered hands up to his mouth to blow hot air into the fabric to warm up his nose. he melts at the eddie smell that radiates off the sweatshirt and curls his hands around eddie's neck to drag him in for another kiss.

steve might hate the cold weather, but being wrapped up in everything eddie was an unexpected plus that makes the chill worth it.

#this is brought to you by me having to wear my winter coat and scrape ice off my windshield this morning!#steddie #steddie headcanon #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie fluff

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abitohoney · 7 months

Text

Hustle - CH1: Proposition

AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, Ran & Reader, Established Relationship, assassin reader, Fluff, Smut, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, horny idiots in love, Dom/sub, Dom Sevika, sub Reader, Humor, Banter, Choking, Spanking, Teasing, Light Sadism, Begging, Strap-Ons, Lesbian Sex, Aftercare, Gambling, Smoking, lack of understanding card games, totally winging this shit, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Semi-Public Sex, Rough Sex, Hair-pulling, reader is not the most graceful creature, but Sevika adores reader all the more for it, Jealousy, Marking, Orgasm Delay, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms, Hurt/Comfort, a Yordle OC that we will likely never see again but I had entirely too much fun writing, 69 (Sex Position)

Word Count: 7.9k

Summary: Looking to make your nights with Sevika a bit more… exciting, you suggest making use of your shared talent for playing cards. Together, the two of you take the Undercity, and even Topside, by storm. And what’s more exciting than the thrill of winning, or watching your opponents whine and gripe in defeat, or earning far more coin than the two of you could possibly spend? The release of pent-up sexual desire that seems to come with each and every win, that’s what.

AN: This is already in process over on AO3.

Sevika sat at the small table in your shared room, removing the last screw that held the protective plate over her metal shoulder. A thick cigar- one of the fancy ones you’d gifted her a while back- hung from the corner of her mouth. She was apparently too focused on her arm to realize it had gone out some time ago.

You, however, noticed when you approached her, two drinks in hand and clad in only your underwear and one of her old shirts. After placing one glass near her, and the other at the opposite end by your chair, you grabbed her lighter from the table.

“Light?” you offered, opening the lighter with a swift flick of your wrist.

Sevika glanced down her nose at her barely smoldering cigar before bringing the end into the dancing flame. After taking one long drag, her gray eyes met yours. Tendrils of smoke seeped from the corners of her mouth when her lips curled into a crooked grin.

That smirk of hers was the closest thing you’d get to a thank you, but it was good enough for you. You gave her your own lopsided grin in return before bending down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

Moving to the chair opposite her, you took a seat and started working on sharpening your pile of daggers strewn about the table.

That had become somewhat of a weekly ritual for the two of you. An unspoken one, where once a week the two of you would sit at your small, quaint table littered with parts, tools, and cleaning supplies for Sevika’s arm, as well as sharpening tools and cleaning cloths for your daggers. You’d both have a good drink. She’d have one of her usual cigarillos, or occasionally, like tonight, she’d treat herself to a fancy imported cigar. A sign that she’d had a particularly bad day.

“Rough day?” you asked and carefully wiped one of your daggers clean before setting it aside to grab the next.

“Yeah,” she replied gruffly, focus returned to her arm while she loosened something at the elbow.

Your gaze fell to her bicep from where it peeked out from beneath her leather sleeve, watching almost in a trance as it flexed with her movements.

Good god, she’s so fucking buff.

“Jinx?” you asked, knowing that more often than not the blue-haired girl was the cause of Sevika’s bad days. The bane of her existence really. You’d met the girl a few times over your years under Silco’s employ, and although she was quite the little spitfire, unpredictable even, she seemed like a genuinely sweet kid. Everyone in the Undercity had their demons, so why Jinx’s seemed to bother Sevika so much more, you weren’t exactly sure, but you weren’t about to ask. Best not to poke the bear.

“Yeah.”

Realizing she was clearly not interested in divulging any details, you returned to your daggers in silence, occasionally sipping your drink or stealing a glance at Sevika working on her arm.

Once every dagger was finely sharpened and shined, you turned your full attention to Sevika. Her arm at some point had ended up in far more pieces on the table than usual. Must have been a deep clean day, or something got really fucked up. A quick glance at Sevika’s face confirmed the latter.

Her dark brows sat in a deep v-shaped line and her lips pulled into a tight frown. She was clearly not happy. Even less so than usual.

Dragging your chair over to her side, you ignored the sharp look she gave you at the obnoxious sound of it scraping along the floor, echoing through the otherwise quiet room. “What’s wrong?” you asked and leaned closer to look over all the parts.

“Something jammed,” she grumbled and removed her cigar to throw back the last of her drink.

Picking up her metal hand, which although disconnected from her wrist, was still entirely assembled, you turned it over several times to inspect the construction. Even after all the time you’ve been close to Sevika, you still found yourself fascinated with all the intricacies of her mechanical arm. So many moving parts, powered primarily by something that was also used as a drug. Intricate joints that functioned much like the real thing, but better. More precision, more strength, more flexibility. But the moment something malfunctioned, like now, it became almost useless. So of course you understood her frustration. Not only being left without a usable arm, but also being left with the hassle of trying to fix the damn thing.

As you took what would be the index finger between your own fingers and moved the joints, you could feel more resistance than usual. Turning it so the palm faced up, you stretched and bent the joints opposite their intended direction. There was definitely a build-up of… something. Gunk of some kind. No wonder shit was jammed. Probably full of dried blood, or human flesh. Who knows how many necks she broke or guts she impaled since her arm got a good cleaning.

“What are you smiling about?”

Not even realizing you were smiling, your eyes shot up to Sevika’s scowling face in confusion. “What? Oh. Just thinking about how many idiots you must have slaughtered since you last gave this a proper cleaning. There’s all sorts of shit stuck in the joints. Of course you’re having issues.”

“Well maybe if you did your job and took them out with your little knives, I wouldn’t have to use my hand so much,” she sneered, mouth twitching at the corner. She was clearly proud of her snarky comeback.

Ass.

Smile still in place, but now directed at Sevika, you shot back your own snarky retort, “Well maybe if you didn’t fucking announce our presence with your big ass feet stomping around, I could have used my daggers.”

Oh, that got her truly smirking. A challenge. A verbal challenge. Something the two of you have always taken part in, but ever since becoming an... item, it had become downright exhilarating. You both enjoyed the challenge the other provided. Equal wit, snark, and speed. Not to mention it almost always ended with the two of you engaging in other fun activities.

“I don’t need that hand to choke you.”

“I don’t need to ask if you’re bluffing. All talk.” You smiled at her confidently. At least at first.

Sevika’s chair scraped across the floor when she stood suddenly. Your eyes widened and you jumped in your chair, not really expecting her to do anything. Not when her arm was half disassembled, tubes and wires dangling loose and exposed. You quickly schooled your expression, back to that cocky smile to match hers. She wouldn’t really follow through. Tilting your head back, you stared up at her towering form as she stood close enough for her feet to disappear beneath your chair.

“I don’t need to tell you how very wrong you are,” she sneered, her smile curling into a wicked grin. Without breaking her eye contact with you, she removed her cigar from between her teeth and set it in the ashtray you’d made her months ago. Her prized possession. And when she bent down, you could feel your smile start to falter, confidence waning. “I’ll show you,” she said so quietly you almost missed it.

Fuck. She is going to-

And then her hand was on your throat, squeezing with just enough pressure to have you feeling the strain in your airway. But when the air in your lungs escaped through your parted lips, it was not in the form of a complaint, a cry, or a whine. No, it was a deep, quiet moan. Her name.

“Sevika…”

It’s yet another unspoken… dynamic the two of you had developed from the very beginning of your relationship. Despite you offering her a good verbal fight, and sometimes even physical, it always ended with you submitting to her. Completely willing. Because it would always benefit you both. She gets that ego of hers stroked real nice. A good power trip. You swear it almost makes her high. And you get that euphoric feeling of losing control to someone you trust deeply. Someone you know can give you what you want. What you need. She doesn’t even need to ask. She knows. She’ll only ask to make you say it. To watch you squirm while you try to find the words- your voice- to beg her to give you all your filthy desires.

“What do you want?” she husked, and you could smell the intoxicating mix of cigar spices and high-end whiskey on her breath when she leaned in closer.

“You,” you breathed, your desperate eyes pleading with her wild ones. Your hands- one still holding her metal hand, the other resting on your thigh- clenched, fighting urges. But not because you wanted to remove her hand, or fight back. You wanted to put your hands on her. Touch her. Pull her closer. But you knew you couldn't. Not yet.

“What do you want from me,” she sneered, thick fingers squeezing just a little tighter around your neck.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, but when you saw her arch a brow, you knew what else she wanted to hear. “Please, Sevika.”

Her smirk softened, and as she brought her face even closer, your eyes fluttered shut. The moment those full lips of hers pressed against your own, you felt yourself melting into your chair. The way she kissed you, so teasingly soft while she squeezed your throat in her hand- a hand that could easily snap your neck- left your head spinning. She was powerful enough to destroy you without using so much as even half of that power, yet she always gave you pleasure instead.

Moaning against her lips, you finally dropped her metal hand in favor of placing both your hands on the exposed skin at her hips and waist. She allowed it, but not without the cost of her teasing you. Lips parted, you tried to invite her tongue in, but she chose to run that delightful muscle of hers across your upper lip instead. And when you tried to lean in and take it yourself, her fingers wrapped blissfully tighter around you, leaving you seeing stars.

Without realizing it, your nails dug into the skin just above Sevika’s hips, causing her to break away and hiss at you. Gazing up at her through half-lidded eyes, you whispered a soft, “Sorry,” and relaxed your fingers, soothingly running your fingertips over the little crescent moon marks you’d left behind.

“I need to finish fixing my arm before I fuck you,” she husked, slowly loosening her grip on your throat. “Think you can be patient for me?”

No.

You nodded, whimpering when she released you and went back to her seat. Slowly turning back to the table, you picked her metal hand back up, but your mind was too clouded by lust to really focus. Glancing at Sevika from the corner of your eyes, you spotted her smirking at you. Apparently amused by how she got you so fucking riled up only to leave you sitting there stewing in your own… juices.

So fucking mean, but so fucking hot.

It was a deadly combo that kept you on your toes, and kept you coming back for more. Because in the end, with patience, you always got what you wanted. What you both wanted.

Once your head was mostly clear, you grabbed one of your smaller, sharper daggers and started prying out some of the crap stuck in the joints of her prosthetic hand. Disgusting to most, it was- in all honesty- a very satisfying process for you. The little bits of dried bloody flesh and even bone left you itching to get back to your job. Being Silco’s number one assassin had been rewarding beyond anything else you could have done to get by in the Undercity. You’d always had a knack for stealth, speed, and agility. Not to mention a fascination with knives and daggers, or ‘ pointy objects’ as Sevika so lovingly called them. But that feeling of euphoria you got the first time you slid a blade along someone’s skin, watching the blood trickle then pour from the wound. It was your calling. A sick thing to take pleasure in perhaps, but with the rest of Silco’s crew, you fit right in. Sevika included. You’d seen her get that same wild gleam in her eye. That same wicked smile while she strangled her foe or beat the everliving snot out of them.

Peering over at Sevika, you found her scowl was back in place. Seemed that little intermission was not enough for her either.

“Hey, I was thinking,” you started as you continued to meticulously clean one of the metal fingers, “What if you and I teamed up at cards and wiped this whole damned city clean? I mean, you and I are two of the best, if not the best, players down here. If we teamed up, we’d be unstoppable.”

When Sevika didn’t offer a reply, you turned your attention to her. Cigar back between her teeth, she simply raised a single brow, and you weren’t sure if that was in intrigue or disbelief. “What? It could be fun. Get ourselves some good coin while we’re at it.”

Removing her cigar. She tapped it against the ashtray. With an amused grin, she finally replied, smoke billowing from her mouth while she spoke, “Alright, princess, I’ll admit that sounds like a good idea.”

“A great idea,” you corrected her. “If we set up a tournament, we could end up with enough coin to buy some nice things.”

“Like what?” she scoffed, “More pointy objects?”

You narrowed your eyes at her little jab, gaze dropping to her cigar as you retorted, “Or more fancy cancer sticks.” Before she could throw another retort your way, you added, “But I was thinking more like an improved chem tech arm, so you don’t have to fuck around with maintenance so much. Or you could just pay someone else to do it.” Reaching across the table, you grabbed a cloth and a bottle of solvent. Pouring a generous amount into the cloth, you started wiping down one of the metal digits. “Just think about it?”

“How soon?”

Your gaze shot back up to Sevika. “Really?”

She said nothing, just kept her gaze on you and waited for your answer.

You made no effort to hide the wide smile that put on your face. And though she shook her head in mock disgust, you saw how her own lips pulled up at one corner. “I bet with Ran’s help I could get a tournament set up by this weekend. So you’re game?”

“As long as Ran is involved to make sure you don’t screw it up.”

You ignored her attempt to bait you into another battle of wits, too thrilled that she’d agreed to your idea. Instead, you returned to your task in silence, save for the excited tapping of your foot. That weekend couldn’t come soon enough.

Too caught up in your meticulous cleaning of Sevika’s metal hand, not to mention thinking about how the two of you were going to clean up a bunch of unsuspecting idiots, you hadn’t realized Sevika had finished her own work some time ago. After giving the hand one final wipe down with a clean cloth, you turned to find her leaning back in her chair just watching you while she smoked. “What?” you asked, cheeks flushing under her heated gaze.

Setting the remainder of her cigar in the ashtray, she patted her thigh. “Help me put it back on.”

Suspicious of her intentions with how… oddly she was looking at you, you hesitantly stood from your chair to take a seat across her lap. As you reached across the table to grab the hand, you felt her wrap her human arm around your waist, resting her hand on your thigh. And if that hadn’t been distracting enough while you tried to hook up the tubes and wires of her prosthetic, the feeling of her intense gaze on you sure as hell was.

With everything reconnected, you gave the wrist one final twist to lock the hand back in place. Carefully, you turned it over in your hand, ensuring everything was moving properly. Bending each finger, you could tell the cleaning had definitely made a difference. Satisfied with your work, you lined her hand up with yours, marveling at the contrasting size and material. Bringing it to your face, you placed a kiss on the top of one of the plates that covered the back of it. Releasing her hand, you glanced up at Sevika to find her still staring at you with that odd expression. It was as if she was in disbelief. You searched her eyes for a sign of what she was thinking. And god damn you swore those gray eyes of hers were somehow a softer shade.

“Sevika? Is something wrong?” you asked quietly.

Her gaze fell to her metal hand as she lifted it. She moved each joint, one at a time while she spoke softly, her voice so raspy you swore there was something she was trying to hold back. “I’ve told you this before, but I’ll say it again. You’re too good to me.”

Oh Fuck. That’s so sweet.

She had, in fact, said that before. And your heart both swelled and broke all the same last time. “Sevika,” you whispered breathlessly. You weren’t even sure how to respond to that. Tell her she’s an idiot for thinking she doesn’t deserve your affection and care even after all this time? Tell her everyone deserves someone to treat them right? But you knew neither would help someone like her see the truth. So instead of telling her with words, you decided to show her using her own language. Action. Sliding a hand along her scarred cheek, you pressed your fingers against the back of her neck and slowly guided her lips to yours.

She hesitantly returned the kiss, but it was nothing like her usual more fervent and dominating ones. The kiss was much sweeter, softer, and surprisingly tender.

Her arm around your waist pulled you closer while her metal hand gently grasped your thigh. That delightfully soft nose of hers glided along the side of your own and over your cheek when she cocked her head and pulled you even closer, pressing her lips further into yours.

Though the kiss was far less wild than usual, it still left you equally, if not more, breathless when she pulled away. Resting your forehead against hers, you gazed into beautiful pools of gray. Slowly, that lopsided grin of hers started to reappear.

“Should we head to bed?” you asked softly.

She gave your thigh a gentle squeeze before releasing her hold on you.

The moment you stood up, you no more than turned to head for the bed when you felt a sharp slap to your bottom.

“Hey!” you yelped, spinning on your heel to scowl down- or rather up- at Sevika as she stood from her seat.

“Don’t get too used to that soft shit,” she sneered and stepped closer, toe-to-toe with you.

A challenge?

“Of course,” you replied with a dramatic roll of your eyes. “Can’t ruin that tough image of yours.”

And then she was in your space, chest pressing into yours and causing you to take a step away to keep from toppling backward. You furrowed your brows while you peered up at her.

What’s she playing at?

She took another step into your space, a smug smile painting her face.

You took another step away, the backs of your knees connecting with the edge of the bed.

“Now that I’ve got my hand back…” Sevika drawled and lifted her metal hand to inspect it as the gears near her wrist spun and whirred.

You should have taken that as your warning sign, but you were too focused on trying to figure out what she had planned to do with you. A shrill yelp pulled from your throat when the sharp blade sprung from her arm, slicing through the air dangerously close to the side of your face. With nowhere else to go, you fell onto your rear on the edge of the mattress.

Her dark chuckle made your brows draw together.

“Damnit Sevika stop startling me with that fucking thing!” you snarled and shot her a nasty glare.

“Thought you liked pointy objects,” she jeered, her blade retracting back into her arm with a resounding swish.

“ My pointy objects.”

“Hmm. They are pretty nice,” she teased, eyes blatantly honed in on your tits.

Despite your best effort to refrain, you couldn’t help but grin at that lovely combination of joke and compliment.

Sevika stepped forward again, her knees urging you to spread your legs and allow her between them.

Then she slowly leaned over you, forcing you to scoot back on the bed.

“Sevika…” you sighed, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I told you, I’ve got my hand back now…” she sneered, hands planted against the mattress on either side of your hips.

“Now what?” you asked.

Moving farther away, you fell back onto your forearms as she crawled onto the bed and up your body, her strong arms on either side of your chest. Then you recalled what she’d said to you earlier when things were starting to heat up.

‘I need to finish fixing my arm before I fuck you.’

Oh.

Her hands moved to either side of your shoulders and you let your back fall completely against the bed. You beamed up at her while she smiled down at you wolfishly.

Her eyes dropped to your mouth. "That fucking dopey smile."

"You know you always say that, but then you're just smiling at me. Clearly you love it," you pointed out.

Sevika scoffed, but that smirk remained on her face. "It's ridiculous."

"And cute," you added.

"Ridiculous."

"Ridiculously cute. And it's only for you," you said sweetly.

"Damn right."

You raised a brow. "A bit possessive aren't we?"

"Just know what's mine." Her lips curled higher.

Fucking cocky.

But two can play that game.

"Same," you replied with a crooked grin before grabbing Sevika by her leather vest and pulling her down for a kiss.

She willingly kissed you back, but not without the cost of taking your bottom lip between her teeth and tugging- hard. She chuckled at your whine of protest, lips curling against yours before she kissed away the stinging sensation.

Your game wasn’t over yet though.

Sevika pulled back from the kiss, brows furrowed as she peered down at your smiling face. “What's so funny?"

"This," You replied just before flipping her onto her back. You swiftly moved to straddle her waist and pin her wrists above her head.

She simply smirked up at you with a raised brow.

You both knew she could break free with very little effort, but you both tested each other. You tested how far she'd let your hand go as it traveled down her neck toward her chest. She tested just how brave you'd actually be.

The moment your hand rested over a breast she gave you a threatening look.

"Don't you do it," she growled.

"Don't do what?" You asked with feigned innocence.

"You know what."

"Oh, you mean this?" You gave her breast a hard squeeze, twisting her nipple through the thick fabric of her top. That got you the desired effect, or rather effects. The immediate; a groan and strained face of pleasure, and the delayed; you were not only thrown off her, but also lying face down with your ass held up high by her thigh wedged between both of yours. Before you could even think to react, your wrists were scooped up by her metal hand and held together behind your back.

"You're gonna pay for that princess," she sneered.

You opened your mouth to retort, only for a startled yelp to escape when her flesh hand contacted your asscheek with a loud SMACK!

"Learn your lesson?" she asked, rubbing her hand soothingly over your tingling skin.

“No.”

SMACK!

Another sharp cry ripped from your throat.

"How about now?" she sneered, hand running delightful circles over your other abused asscheek.

"I think- I think you're gonna have to drill it into me,” you managed to get out between soft moans.

Janna, you’re so fucking clever.

"Hate to admit it princess, but I think you're right," she husked and continued to rub your bottom, her thumb inching closer to the inside of your thigh and ghosting over your slit through your panties. "Looks like you're nice and ready for it too."

Your cheeks burned. You knew you were already dripping from what little attention she’d already given you. She always had that effect on you.

She gave your ass one more pat before crawling off the bed and leaving you disappointed at the loss of contact. "Now, how big?" She asked as she strode to the dresser where she kept all the harnesses and attachments.

You rolled onto your side to watch her, resting your head on your hand, elbow propped on the mattress.

"So I was thinking," you started while she rummaged through the drawer, "we should come up with signals to communicate with each other during the tournament."

You tilted your head as you continued to speak, trying to catch a glimpse of which toy Sevika had selected while she slipped on the harness.

"I could come up with a series of subtle hand gestures, ways we hold our cards or drinks, or how we blow the smoke from our cigarillos. You know, something that looks unsuspecting."

"Gonna play dirty, huh?" Sevika sneered as she lubed up the faux cock.

With her back to you, you still couldn't quite make out which one she'd put on. Your curiosity- the anticipation- had your body temperature rising by the second, but you still tried to keep your cool. "Damn right. Those fools won't know what hit 'em. You and I are gonna empty the pockets of every poor sucker down here."

Sevika turned to face you, revealing a strap you hadn’t seen before. Not particularly girthy, but long, bright purple, and with a notable curve.

Oh boy. What the hell is that for?

As she stalked toward the bed, you met her gaze– her very lust-filled gaze. “Why- Why are you looking at me like that?” you stammered and moved to lean back on your forearms, eyes nervously following Sevika as she stalked toward you.

She crawled onto the bed, metal hand slowly dragging up the side of one of your legs. “Cause I want to fuck you. Now shut your mouth or I'll give you something to keep it busy."

"You say that like it's supposed to be a threat. Maybe I want you to keep my mouth busy. Ever think about that?" you retorted with a crooked grin, though it came out much less snarky and confident than you’d intended, your anxiousness getting the better of you.

Her hand froze at your thigh. A single brow arched. Then she sat up on her knees and started to undo her harness.

"Wait!"

She paused, smirking. "Thought this was what you wanted."

"Fuck me first.”

…

“Please," you quickly added.

She said nothing, but bent back down to resume dragging her metal hand up along your leg until she reached your panties. She slipped a sharp claw beneath the waistband, then locked eyes with you and gave you the most evil-looking toothy grin.

“Don’t you do it,” you threatened, eyes narrowed.

“Don’t do what?” she mocked.

“I just bought thOSE!” your words turned into a sharp yelp the moment Sevika ripped your underwear clear off your body. “Fucking hell Sevika! You can’t just keep ripping all my clothes!”

“I’ll buy you more.”

Though she spoke those words with a stoic tone, you could see her mirth plain as day with the damn smirk she wore.

“You’ll just buy something impractical,” you pouted.

“And I’ll rip those off too,” she sneered, backing down the bed to stand on the floor between your dangling legs.

You raised your brows, confused as to why she left the bed. Was she going to fuck you or not?

She leaned over, flesh and metal fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to grasp your hips. Then, without warning, she yanked your body down across the mattress, pulling your ass to the edge of the bed, your shirt up and over your chest when it caught on the sheets, and yet another startled yelp from your throat.

Your mouth hung open to fire another chastising remark, only for it to die in your throat when her hands started slowly gliding up your stomach towards your now fully exposed chest.

“Got something to say, princess?” she husked as she cupped each breast.

You knew she was goading you. Trying to get you to speak so she could provide enough stimulation to make you fumble your words again. So instead you said nothing, just watched her with narrowed eyes. But not even that look stood a chance the moment she started to squeeze and knead your supple flesh.

“Hm. Didn’t think so,” she taunted.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to stifle the moan that you felt building up. Once she added your nipples to her play, you had officially lost the game.

Your eyes fluttered shut, lips parting and releasing a soft moan when she rolled metal and flesh fingers across your hardened peaks.

“So easy to shut you up,” she continued to tease. She leaned over your chest, ghosting her lips along the swell of a breast.

The urge to bite back was completely overrun by the natural desire to just submit to her. To just let her take care of you. Like she always did.

“Just a simple touch,” she continued, accenting her words with a drag of those luscious lips right over a nipple.

You keened, arching towards her mouth, silently begging her to wrap her lips around your flesh. But she wouldn’t do that. Not yet. She had to tease you more. Break you down. Leave you begging.

“S-Sevika,” you whined when she merely slid her mouth to the other breast– not nearly enough stimulation. And good god you craved her. You could already feel the ache building in your lower half– a tight heat that radiated from your core straight down through your legs.

“Yea, baby?” she murmured against the swell of your breast. She introduced her tongue into the mix, dragging just the tip around your areola while her hands continued to explore.

“More, please,” you pleaded. You carded your hands through her hair, but you didn’t dare pull her head closer, despite the burning desire to do so.

“More what?” Her tongue left a long, wet trail from the bottom side of one breast clear across the other.

“Your mouth,” you sighed.

“Hmm,” she hummed against the side of your breast, the vibrations only adding to the torment of her light touches. “What do you want me to do with it?” she asked before flicking her tongue across a nipple.

Your fingers and toes curled and you sucked in a sharp breath. “Suck,” you whispered as you released that breath.

Another reverberating hum. “Like this?”

Those delightfully soft, warm, wet lips wrapped around a nipple and sucked, tongue teasing over the tip.

“Fuck, yes,” you groaned. Your back arched again, pressing your chest closer to her mouth.

“Mmm. And what about this?” she purred. Without further warning she bit down on that sensitive nub, pulling a sharp cry from you only for it to dissolve into a soft moan as she soothed it with her tongue.

The sound of her low, throaty laugh only made your body ache for her more. Before you could beg for her to continue, her mouth started to move up your chest, sucking and biting every inch of skin along the way. Her metal hand soon joined the climb, gliding up the other side of your chest while her human hand descended down your stomach.

Her tongue dipped and trailed up along your collarbone while her metal hand crept up the column of your throat. With her flesh hand tightly gripping your waist, she pressed her metal thumb against your chin, forcing you to expose more of your neck.

Your mind was already reeling from all the sensations, but then you felt the cold, wet tip of her faux cock tease over your clit. Her teeth sank into the flesh of your neck, her nails into the soft fat at your waist. There was no hope for holding back your desperate mewls, her name spilling like honey from your lips.

“Sevika.”

You needed her. You needed her so bad.

“Sevika, fuck me. Please.”

The deep, sinister chuckle that you felt just as much as you heard contrasted against how she ran the side of her nose gently along your cheek and nose.

“So desperate for my cock, hm?” she taunted, lips brushing over yours as she spoke.

You swallowed hard, throat bobbing. Even with your eyes still closed, you could feel the heat of her eyes on you, the arrogant curl of her lips just barely pressed to yours.

“Yes,” you breathed and it took every ounce of willpower to remain still. To not pull her lips to yours and take the kiss you so desperately wanted. To not just thrust towards that teasing silicone toy and grind against it. Your fingers curled against her scalp, your toes against the sheets hanging off the edge of the bed.

Patience.

You needed to be patient. The reward she’d give you would be so very worth it.

She slid her thumb from your chin to the pulse point at your neck, teasing over it several times before finally pressing, ever-so-lightly.

Your lips parted in a breathless gasp, body thrumming in bliss. Your subsequent moan became muffled, drowned out by her mouth hungrily devouring yours. Her tongue delved in, swiping along yours as if fighting for dominance. But there was no battle. There was nothing you could do. You were too lost in that delirium she always brought on when she had her hands on your neck, carefully- precisely- applying pressure.

You were too far gone to even realize the hand at your waist had left to move the tip of the strap between your wet folds, lining it up at your entrance.

And then came the abrupt, glorious stretch of your walls as she buried the faux cock clear to the hilt with one powerful thrust. Your cry of pleasure was muffled by her mouth over yours. You sank your nails into her scalp, earning a threatening growl from her that barely registered through the cloud of pleasure overtaking your mind.

She stood upright, your hands sliding off her head and collapsing against the bed at your sides. You gazed up at her through half-lidded eyes, slowly starting to come back to your senses with your airway fully open again.

God you wanted her hand back there.

“Sevika,” you whined, but you were too ashamed to admit what you wanted. She knew anyway, and yet she’d still make you say it.

“Yeah baby?” she teased. She slipped her hands beneath your thighs, lifting them until your heels rested on the edge of the bed, opening you nice and wide for her. Both her hands firmly grasped your waist and she slowly slid back out, her eyes glued between your legs and reveling at the sight of the silicone toy sliding between your wet folds.

You lost the ability to articulate your request as you watched her move her human hand over your lower stomach and press– hard. Her dark lips curled into a crooked smile, eyes glinting in sick satisfaction while she slowly pushed the strap back inside.

“Fuck, baby,” she breathed.

There was no telling if that was truly for your ears. She looked utterly lost in watching- feeling- her sink deeper inside you.

Your fingers curled against the sheets, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as the added pressure of that wicked curve and press of her hand left an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure.

She pulled back out again, grabbing one of your wrists and placing your hand flat against your stomach. With her hand encasing yours she pressed down hard, her gaze still locked between your spread legs. Then, torturously slow, she pushed back inside once again.

“You feel that?” she husked. “My cock dragging along your insides? That’s good, isn’t it?”

You could, in fact, feel the tip of the faux cock dragging beneath your hand. That, however, was not what had you reeling with pleasure and arousal. No, it was her expression. She looked utterly enraptured by it. It made your body tremble, visibly shudder against the sheets.

“It’s…” You trailed off, groaning when she bottomed out, her thighs pressing against the backs of yours. “Sevika,” you mewled. Even when you whimpered her name, she couldn’t break away from that state. Instead, she let your hand slip free to grip the sheets again and placed her hand back on your stomach.

She set a slow rhythm, much unlike her typical rough and unhinged pace, more focused on enjoying the show of it than pleasing you, at least until she heard your soft plea.

“Sevika, please,” you forced out between clenched teeth. The pressure against your insides was damn near excruciating. It felt as if you were teetering on the edge of bliss. You needed just a little more.

Sevika’s heavy-lidded gaze drifted up to your face. Though her smirk remained, her gray eyes softened at the sight of your distress. “What do you need, baby?”

“I- I need-” you struggled to speak, distracted by another gradual roll of her hips.

“Hm?”

You felt her press her thumb against the tip of the strap through your stomach and had you been in your right mind you would have vocally accused her of attempting to impede your ability to speak.

“Fuck,” you cursed, closing your eyes shut tight. Her sinister chuckle echoed in your head. She had definitely been fucking with you.

Deep breath in.

“I need more,” you huffed with the release of that breath.

“More what?”

Fucking sadistic cunt.

She knew how much you hated saying the specifics out loud. How fucking hard it was when she was working you up. But she also knew you loved it.

You loved everything about the damn woman smirking down at you while she waited for your answer.

“Fuck me faster,” you groaned, another drag along that sweet spot leaving you seeing stars.

“Forget your manners, princess?”

You peered up at her through narrowed eyes. Whatever malice you had behind that look was lost in how your face contorted in pleasure.

“ Please fuck me faster.”

With a satisfied chuckle, she quickened her pace.

While her hand remained pressed against your stomach, her thumb slid down to tease across your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your throat.

Despite your effort to bite back the sounds your body so desperately wanted to release, you quickly lost that battle, succumbing to the pleasure that radiated through your body with each heavenly swipe of her thumb, each divine drag of her cock.

She must have sensed your approaching climax, her pace suddenly increasing and her metal claws sinking deeper into your hip.

The sound of the headboard smacking violently against the wall was lost to your mewls and moans- her grunts and heavy breaths.

And then- time slowed, your body stilling when all that build-up finally exploded in mind-numbing pleasure. You sobbed her name, barely getting out the last sweet syllable before all your breath left your body in a shuddering gasp.

“That’s it, pretty baby, let it all out.”

Your lover’s voice was merely a low hum in your head, the last waves of your orgasm still wreaking blissful havoc on your body.

Then, just as quick as it came, it was gone, leaving you in a daze. Sevika must have come to a stop at some point, you realized when you peeled your eyes open to gaze up at her.

She wore that damn lopsided grin- the cocky one she always has after she fucks you senseless. And senseless you were, brain damn well useless, empty of any and all thoughts other than how fucking wonderful Sevika was. That, and how badly you wanted to touch her. The only point of contact you had with her was the tops of her thighs pressed against the back of yours, and her hands resting against your hip and stomach. You needed to hold her. To be held by her.

“Sev- please,” you panted softly, hand weakly reaching out for her.

Still smirking, she bent over your limp body, her flesh arm slipping beneath your back to scoop you up and hold you against her. As she carried you further up the bed toward the headboard, the faux cock shifted inside you, pulling whines from you that elicited a chuckle you could feel from where her chest pressed to yours.

She dropped you rather unceremoniously against the pillows, smiling like the sexy fucking sadist she is at how the protest you had ready to fire turned into a sharp gasp when she pulled the strap out without warning.

“You’ve got to warn me when you do that!” you chastised, eyes narrowed on her.

She simply chuckled, slipped out of her harness, and tossed it aside. “I don’t have to do anything, princess,” she sneered.

Before you could fire back, she was over you, mouth pressed to yours in a deep kiss that took your breath and left your head spinning. You pulled your legs up, spreading them to give her room to kneel between them. She rested her metal arm beside your head, the soft whirring of its fan a distant echo in your fuzzy consciousness. Her other hand slid up along one of your thighs, fingertips sinking possessively into the supple flesh.

You tangled your fingers in her soft hair. You felt her knee press against your exposed core and your lips parted to moan softly, allowing her to slip her tongue inside and run along yours.

When she finally released your lips from hers, there was little time to recover as her mouth moved down your jaw and neck, biting and sucking marks into every inch of skin along her path. Lips barely grazing your ear, she whispered, “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

Had she not already washed away your irritation with her earlier harsh treatment, it certainly would have faded in that instant. Your heart swelled, damn near bursting from your chest.

Your dynamic mostly consisted of witty banter, quips, and jabs. They were typically fairly well-matched, but she had a tendency to win by cheating. She knew what buttons to push, or rather touch, to have you forget any and all coherent thoughts. You both thoroughly enjoy it, and you both knew it was just your odd way of showing your interest in one another, that you both were actually head over heels for the other. However, in rare moments like this, Sevika would say out loud what she was actually thinking. And it left you absolutely floored every single time.

“You know-” you started quietly, pausing to clear your throat, afraid she’d detect that you were getting a bit choked up, “-I could say the same to you.”

She hummed against your neck while pressing more kisses there.

You two really were a gorgeous couple, you thought.

"Imagine what our children would look like."

The moment those words left your mouth you knew it was a fatal mistake, but there was no taking it back. Your heart sank to your stomach and Sevika’s lips paused against your skin.

Oh fuck!

She slowly lifted her head, a single brow raised as she peered down at you.

Oh dear god, say something to fix this!

“I- I mean not that I would have kids with you.” you spat out.

Sevika’s brow raised higher.

“I mean not that I wouldn’t want to- with you. I-”

Oh god, just shut up. You’re just digging a deeper grave.

“Not that I want to either. I- I mean honestly I haven't really thought about it. With you. Or anyone. I mean we couldn't technically...” Your cheeks burned hotter than the fucking sun the more you fumbled your words.

The corner of Sevika’s mouth twitched.

Sensing some sort of snark that would leave you wanting to just bury your head somewhere and never let her see your face again, you tried to further explain. “I just thought, like if we did, not that we would, or wouldn’t, that they’d be really cute and-”

Your nonsensical rambling was finally cut off by the soft press of Sevika’s lips to yours. She kept her mouth there, in a gentle kiss, her hand gently caressing your thigh, until you realized she wasn’t upset or planning to obliterate you with a mocking comment. Your heart rate finally settled and she pulled back from the kiss just far enough to look into your worried eyes.

You searched her face for any sign, any warning of what she might be thinking. All you found was the corner of her mouth curling upward.

Please let that be a good sign.

"IF we had children, they would be beautiful."

Oh gods, the way she looked at you as she said that– even with that damn smirk, those gray eyes sparkling while they watched you- spoke louder than anything. She was complimenting you. A shy smile spread across your face. You reached up to wrap your fingers around her bicep and whispered, “And strong.”

"And cunning."

"And cute." You emphasized the word with a peck to the tip of her nose.

"And great in bed," she added with a cocky smirk.

"Whoa, now that's just weird. We’re talking about our kids here. But are you saying I'm great in bed?!" you laughed.

"I'm saying I'm so damn good it would make up for your lacking." She grinned wider, revealing her tooth gap and making the snarky comment considerably less effective.

“Cute and annoying,” you replied with a barely contained smile as you pressed your hands against her shoulders and attempted to shove her off you.

She was too fast for you though. Not that it should have surprised you. With no effort whatsoever, she grabbed both your wrists into one hand and pinned them above your head. "Very annoying," she sneered.

To your surprise, rather than tease or mock you for your failure, she brought her lips to yours again.

You could feel the wide spread of her lips against yours, and couldn’t help but smile just as wide.

CH2>>

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #fanfic #honey writes #ran #arcane ran

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