#just noticed an issue with the gif but its too late now

[writingoddess1125]

Morticia and Gomez Effect pt. 2

Mihawk X FemReader

Since people liked this made a part two!

Part 1 <<<

• Mihawk mood had been fowl as of late, Clearly issues had been getting to him silently. His wine intake growing and his irritation rising

• You needed to fix this, Anger was never the most attractive look for your husband anyway-

• He had been home for two days and still hadn't spoke. Instead sitting in his study and doing paperwork while drinking, Sometimes the waft of cigar smoke greeting you as well from the halls.

• "Growling at the wall?" You call out seeing him sitting there scowling at the wall with his face turned up like a beast growling.

• He glanced at you, Seeing you close the door behind you, as well as noticing your done up appearance- mainly the black dress that fit you like a lustful sin he had bought some time again- already lessening his angry face.

• "I am in no mood Wife, leave me" He said with a irritated sigh. He never called you 'Wife' only when truly upset did he say this, Just like how when he was furious he would use your name.

• "I see, so you don't wish for your spirits to be lifted?" You said with a smirk starting to crawl across your face. Walking to the other side of his desk to close a curtain.

• "No- nor do I wish for whatever parlor trick you have p-pla-" Mihawk couldn't even finish his sentence as you pulled down the front of your dress flashing him your naked chest with a smile.

• Just like any man at any age his eyes widened and mind blank at the sight of breast. You quickly pulling the dress back up with a smile.

• He frozen, His drink almost falling from his hand if he didn't clumsily catch it and hold it steady.

• Mihawk stared at you for a moment like he was trying to formulate a response, his stoic face starting to break as a hearty laugh broke through his lips. His woes easily being wiped away by your trick as he tried to wave it away.

• "Dragostea mea (My Darling) you are too much, drawing me from my mood in such a childish way" He mused as he reached his arm out and pulling you into his lap.

• You smile at his words and nestle yourself against his strong chest, Your fingers playing with the cross on his chest.

• "Well anything for you my Love~" You smile and pepper kisses on his face and lips. He gives a delighted groan and his hand travels to find the zipper of the dress.

• "Idle hands my Love" You warn making him grumble for a short while- Mainly cause you both knew what was coming.

• His lips falling from its smile as the door bursted open and Perona March in like she owned the place. Recently you had been in charge of training her- Especially since you felt like Mihawk was too soft on her.

• Mihawk sighed as he sat up and saw Perona standing there making a face at the two of you.

• "So Gross!-" She tried as she stared at you two and invaded the space, You smoothing down your dark gown as you stared at the young woman with a amused face.

• "What do you want Perona?" Mihawk said as she stomped into the room, You watching her glare at you and look away flustered.

• "I never got a thank you from you for my recent mission!" She yelled as she pointed to you

• "Thats because you failed-" You spoke plainly.

• "I didn't fail!" She began to rant about the events of loosing to someone who flashed rainbow colors and worse 'disgusting' pastels.

• "So you lost to someone in pastels, Didn't get the information needed, didn't listen to the advice I gave you for the last mission. Now you come through here causing a ruckus cause I will not reward you?" You spoke very carefully, watching her stiffen at the lace of irritation through your voice.

• She shuffled a bit awkwardly and gave a single nod. You sighing at this-

• "Now your failing in the mission is one thing but my darling girl- Being beaten by Pastels?" You mused, she had fallen prey to a pastel nightmare was just too much of a burn. Her face turning as pink as her dress as she fluttered out screaming and throwing a temper tantrum thankfully she slammed the door closed behind her.

• Mihawk sighing as he leaned in his chair and pulled you back against him properly.

• "Disobedient" You hummed with a tired sigh.

• "If we had our own they would be more obedient and skilled" He mused, You feeling him place another kiss to the back of your neck.

• Surprised by his words you roll so you are facing him now, seated on him like a saddle. His intense yellowed eyes meeting your gaze before continuing to kiss you this time down your throat.

• "You're making it sound like you actually want one?" You said in mused question, a few breathy moans leaving you as he proceeded to bite rather hard down on your soft skin and his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

• Catching his gaze as he pulls back you could read him like a picture book. He did?

• "You actually want a child?" You hummed as your eyebrow raised, Feeling your husband's eyes wonder your form. His arm doing a quick sweep over his desk to push everything to the side and floor, uncaring as he had a goal in mind.

• "I am surprised we haven't already given an army due to us taking caution to the wind" He said calmly, setting you on the desk as his hands made easy work of rolling up the dark garment over your thighs.

• "Well if it's an army you want-" You purr and pull him closer to you by the cross around his neck feeling him close the distance between you two. "We better make up for lost time~"

• He smirked at this as he leaned down to kiss you with wine flavored lips as his hands found the front of your dress and in a fluid motion ripped the fabric down the center.

• Lost time indeed

Tag list-

@who-the-hockeysticks @vexladin

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #op mihawk #mihawk x y/n #dracule mihawk x reader

[reiderwriter]

Elevator Pitch

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 2k!!

Warnings: Smut, fingering, semi-public sex/ foreplay, praise kink-ish, some pet names completely ignored Spencer's germophobia to make this work 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Getting trapped in an elevator is never fun, but at least the attractive you're sharing the metal box of death with has an interesting idea about how you can pass the time.

A/N: This is just a really quick drabble for @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute challenge for this month!! I have an idea for another one that I'll post closer to Halloween too, so look forward to that alongside all the kinktober fics 👀

Check out my masterlist here!

You weren't planning on running late on your very first day on your new team, but here you were. You were scheduled to meet Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner in his office at 9 a.m. sharp, and here you were at 8:57, trapped inside an elevator. At least you weren't alone, but alone with a stranger, and one who seemed to be talkative in the worst way wasn't exactly ideal either. 

"Hey, don't panic. There are about 6 elevator-related deaths per year and about 100,000 injuries. I'm pretty confident about those statistics." He said, taking a sip of his coffee as he stood calmly by the door, pressing buttons and waiting for something to happen. 

"Oh god, I'm gonna die in here." You whimpered a little bit, falling to your knees and screwing your eyes shut. 

"No, I said we're not gonna die. Or its at least very unlikely." 

"And I'm supposed to trust you?" 

"Yes, I'm very good with numbers. Elevator accidents account for 0.00024% of all elevators in service in the US. There you don't have to panic anymore." Almost punctuating his words, the elevator gave a low groan and fell an inch lower, pushing him off balance and toppling to the floor right next to you. 

"That was just unfortunate timing." He said, his breath hitting your face. Your eyes opened again finally, and you noticed that due to his topple, he was way closer than before, face merely inches from your own. Whoever this overconfident stranger was, he was attractive. Distractingly so, as you didn't respond to his sentence the entire time he was there in front of you, words suddenly escaping you as you stared into his dark, wide eyes. 

"Mechanical issues are the cause of about 15.3% of elevator incidents. Since we're in Quantico, we can probably rule out foul play, which means that they'll probably have us back up and running in around 27 minutes." Opening his mouth ruined the fantasy for a minute, waking you up to the reality of your situation. 

"Did you work an elevator case or something, why do you know so much about this?" You regretted the question as soon as you asked it, as he launched into another speech. 

"I read the statistical reports published by the CPSC and the OSHA. It’s really interesting stuff actually, there are-”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way but I need you to shut up. I don’t think I can take any more statistics about my inevitable death by elevator. Can we do something else instead?”

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know. Can you… Can you hold my hand?” You felt yourself flush red the second the words left your mouth, and suddenly it was your turn to talk too much. “My mom used to do it when I was scared as a kid, and obviously you’re not my mom, and you don’t even know me, but I thought it could help comfort both of us. Human contact and touch is supposedly comforting in times of distress so I just thought…” He cut you off by silently grabbing your hand and settling into a seated position beside you and you sent a little prayer up to god to spare both your soul and your heart. 

Because Jesus Christ it was beating hard now.

“Oxytocin,” he said and you looked up at him with a questioning look. “Oxytocin is released when you come into contact with other people, it’s the reason newborn babies benefit from skin-to-skin contact and why humans enjoy petting domestic animals so much. And the whole sex to destress thing.” He nodded and looked away, but you could have sworn the oxygen was completely sucked out of the room when he mentioned sex. 

“Sex?” He turned to you as you said the word, as if processing the conversation you were in the middle of it. 

“Yeah, never heard of it?” You rolled your eyes and squeezed his hand in your own for a second, but his body was leaning closer into yours now, his entire attention on you, as if he expected you to answer the question. 

“Of course I have.” 

“And what do you think? Can it help you de-stress?” 

Your mouth moves before you can stop it. “Can we stop talking about this please, I’m already scared, I don’t need to be scared and horny.” You close your eyes and groan as his widen again, and suddenly you’re praying again, but this time you wouldn’t really mind if you became one of those six elevator malfunction deaths. 

“I don’t know, maybe it would help you. There are some studies that show that stress can have aphrodisiacal impacts in women, you know?” His voice was light, but your entire body stiffened as you looked into his eyes, trying to gauge what this stranger was offering. 

“So what, you’re suggesting I just get more and more turned on until I’m not worried about death?” 

“No, I’m suggesting I close the gap between us and distract you for a while.” You spared a glance down to his lips then, his tongue darting out to lick them and pulling you in closer. You nodded quickly, a small movement and he pushed his lips down into yours. 

He was soft at first, and you almost felt like pulling away and scalding yourself for engaging in risky behavior during a near-death experience. But just as you moved to pull away, his hand came up to your hair and you melted right back into him, the kiss deepening as you slanted your neck up to give up more of yourself to him. 

You barely feel his hands pulling you into his lap, but you’re suddenly there and so happy you are. Your free hand wanders up to his chest as he squeezes your connected digits again, sending your heart into a fit of palpitations. In a panic you pull away, groaning a little as you can feel his not stiff member poking between your legs. 

“Sorry, I don’t think we exchanged names. I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N..” 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” His lips fall down to your neck as he whispers the words into your skin, and you let your head fall back as his hands untangle from you and fall to your hips, encouraging your movements as you begin grinding over him.

“And you said we had twenty-seven minutes before we’re free, right?” 

“Whose the one talking too much now?” He bit into your neck sharply then, and you moaned out, battling the urge to let him take you there on the elevator floor. From it’s perch on your hip, his hand slips down and pops the button in your pants, pushing inside and finally touching you through your panties.

“That’s it, good girl, just keep grinding down on me.” Unconsciously, you press your hips into his hands, the pressure leaving you letting out a whistful sigh of relief. 

“God,… Should we be doing this here?” Your words were unsure, but your movements weren’t as you pushed yourself into him again and again, desperate to feel more of him as he rubbed circles into your clit, driving you closer and closer to your peak. 

“Let’s assume for now that the elevator malfunction has wiped out the CCTV,” he says, lips pressing against your skin as you lose yourself in his touch again. “We absolutely should be doing this.” 

His words fell straight to your core, and you felt yourself grow more aroused as you pondered being caught in such an intimate position with a stranger.

“You think you can cum right here, baby? Think you can give me one soon?” His words almost sent you over the edge, his smile widening as your hips twitched over his. 

“Fuck, yes, yes, please, don’t stop.” 

“Not so scared about this elevator anymore are you? Or did you want to spend your last moments coming undone in my hands?” With his words, you lost the ability to speak, simply moaning out your agreement to his every word. 

“I think I can hear someone talking through the walls, baby, you’re going to have to cum now for me, can you do that?” You nodded to him as he increased his pace on your words, and within seconds, you were letting it all out, head falling against his shoulder as you twitched through your orgasm. He pulled his hands out of your pants quickly and pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling you up to a standing position and making you look presentable as the doors to the elevator were finally pried open from the other side. 

“Hey, how are you guys holding up in there?” The call came from the maintenance staff, and you were sudden;y thankful that he’d finished you off when he did because as horny as you’d been, actually getting caught like that was something entirely different than the fantasy of it. 

You’re almost sorry that you have to leave when you do, suddenly absolutely involved in helping him “destress” the same way he’d helped you out. But he removes his hands from you and strikes up a conversation with the maintenance staff working to get your elevator level with the floor doors. You gravitate to the back of the stall, gripping the railing while your brain catches up to the circumstances. 

In no time, the elevator is back in working order, and you and your stranger are stepping foot on steady ground again, and saying your goodbyes.  

“Aaron Hotchner’s office is through those doors. Up the stairs to the left.” He smiles and nods at you before turning down the corridor and leaving you there by yourself. A glance at your clock tells you you’re too late to question his words, and how he even knew where you were going. You take off down the hall, ready to profusely apologize to your new boss and pledge to take the stairs for the rest of your days. 

When Hotch finally greets you, he has already heard about the elevator malfunction, and all is thankfully forgiven. You have to bite your tongue before asking if everyone on this floor is psychic. But you’re still late, and you have a case, so your introductions have to take place in the briefing room and you half-run, half-walk behind the older man as he makes his way down the hall. 

“Everyone we have a new team member today, please help her out for this first one and show her the ropes.” He introduces you by name, and you’re suddenly doing your best to memorize the names of a Prentiss, a Rossi, a Morgan, a JJ, and one Penelope Garcia. They seem to be waiting for someone else, but with the clock ticking, Penelope begins debriefing you on the next case.  

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice calls from the door, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand up in shock as everyone slowly turns to greet the newcomer. 

“What time do you call this?” Morgan laughs as the familiar man approaches, and a quick glance around tells you that the only seat left at the table, which had been so obviously reserved by the pile of paper files in contrast to everyone else's digital alternatives, was right next to you. 

“Spencer, we have a new team member, this is Y/N. She’ll be joining us on cases from today onwards.” Hotch quickly says, and you lock eyes with the man just as he falls into his seat. 

“I think we’re acquainted. Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Spencer Reid.” The room falls silent as he holds out his hand for you to shake, and you do your best to not show your shock and embarrassment on your face. You let your hand fall into his, the same one that you’d held earlier, the same one that had worked you up to the edge and then helped you pour over it, the same one that had pulled you together afterward. You said nothing after you’d finally pulled apart, waiting for him to make the next move once again. 

“I look forward to working with you.” 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #meet cute #mentioningmargins

[bits-and-babs]

𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒 – 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

↳ summary: miguel has an issue with the performance and comfortability of his suit. he feels he's found a suitable solution– but he can't tell you.

↳ pairing: pervy!miguel o'hara x f!reader

↳ content: 18+ MDNI. SMUT. pervy!miguel, sneaking into your home, panty stealing, miguel wears your panties, (m) masturbation, masturbating in your panties, a little dirty talk, imagines p in v sex with reader.

miguel masterlist ୨୧ main masterlist ୨୧ join taglist ୨୧ ask

Disgust coats Miguel's tongue in a kind of rancid film, his lashes fluttering closed as he tries to breathe through the turbulence of the unhinged thoughts that bounce in his skull. Of all the ideas he'd contemplated to make the suit a little easier to wear, this was by far the most demented.

The delicate, silky midnight fabric of your high-cut thong had sprung to mind late at night, sleep ebbing at the edges of his consciousness and poisoning his ethics. He'd noticed them the last time he saw you, the elasticated straps that framed your hips peeking over the denim waistband of your jeans when you bent over to collect some papers from his office floor. It's as though the image had imprinted itself on his brain's grey, swirling surface and seared into his retinas.

Friends, Miguel he had to remind himself consistently. You were his friend. Friends don't steal other friends' panties.  

Frankly, this ridiculous plot had all come about thanks to the absurd skin-tight suit Miguel consistently afflicted himself with. His excuse for invading your privacy was aerodynamics. The smoother the outline of the suit, the quicker he'd swing from his webbing... Or so he told himself. It was a perfectly reasonable excuse, as far as his bias was concerned. 

The temptation was intolerable. Of course, getting a thong was easy enough– Miguel could buy them from the mall with the excuse of wanting to see an imaginary girlfriend in them or order them online if it embarrassed him too much. But the debauched notion of wearing your panties, the kind you wore and smelt like you, drove him crazier than he could ever admit. 

He hadn't been able to stave off the desire for very long. Some forty-eight hours later, Miguel found himself snatching the object of desire from your laundry basket, blanketed by the pitch blackness of the dead of night. Driven by this repulsive need, he'd retreated to his office almost as swiftly as he had entered your home, careful to conceal evidence of his presence. All items had been placed back neatly while Miguel scoured for your thong, and he'd pulled your bedroom window back to its original position, open just a crack. 

Thoughts of your silhouette, framed only by the panties in his hand and their matching bra, had carried Miguel home. He'd been rock hard by the time he'd stumbled back into the office, practically ripping the lycra-like material from his body to slip the panties on. 

So here he stood, spider-suit a crimson and midnight blue pool at his feet, naked in the mirror beside the panties that barely stretched across his ample hips. His thick, muscular thighs looked even wider when paired with the dainty lingerie and the dark trail of hair that sparsely scattered his lower abdomen looked far prettier when decorated like this.

Miguel's eyes slid over the silky fabric against his smooth, tanned skin. The silk canvas barely contained the base of his cock and his balls, straining over the ample flesh he'd managed to stuff into the already limited, thin cloth. The scalloped straps of the thongs dug into his hips, little diamonte hearts encrusted by the base of the chords– he hadn't noticed them until now, his cheeks warming as he studied them in the mirror. 

The sheer mass of Miguel's frame was far too large for the undergarment, the elasticated waistband stretched across the shaft of his cock, so it rested against his stomach, erect. The ruddy tip of his swollen head leaked creamy pre-cum against his abdomen at the consistent pressure, throbbing weakly when Miguel passed his eyes over it.

"Hng-" he huffed a breath through his nostrils, the sound almost a wheeze. Fuck, he could smell you on them, the musky scent of your sex. Miguel can't contain the monster, his palm tracing over the outline of his cock. The fabric is stretched so thin against his dick that he can see it twitch, the engorged vein that extends across the arch of him evident in his reflection. 

"D-Dios-" Miguel moans softly, watching precum drip from his swollen tip onto the dark fabric of your underwear. Running his thumb over the head of his cock, Miguel smears his spend over the velvety skin and watches the muscles of his abdomen spasm with the intense pleasure that spidered across his nerves. 

"Oh fuck, pretty baby," he whispers, tracing the crescents arches of his nails over his clothed length, babbling to himself as he relishes your scent, imagining tasting you. "Want your pretty pussy on my face..."

Miguel's hand quickly grasps the mirror's frame, his knees threatening to collapse beneath the weight of his bliss. He's drooling precum now, steady dribbles leaking down into the elasticated waistband and trailing across his knuckles. Fuck fuck fuck– would you be as tight as your panties felt on him? Would you squeeze him like this? 

Pushing his thumb beneath the seam of your thong, Miguel lifts the waist of the lingerie upwards. Shuddering breaths heaved from his ribcage, bracing as he lets the stretchy band slip from his digit. 

It snaps back onto his pulsing cock with a 'crack', the stinging sensation from the impact rocking down the length of his spine as Miguel rubbed the flat of his palm across the flushed head. His jaw falls loose, vermillion irises rolling back into his skull.

"Hhah- fuuuckkk– gonna cum-" he choked out into the emptiness of his office, quickly snapping the fabric onto his length again. "Gonna fuckin' cum–"

Miguel's eyelids flutter, almost missing the lurch of his dick. Cum spurts from the tip, splattering across the reflective surface of the mirror, painting ribbons of creamy white across his bronzed skin. It seeps into the midnight blue of your panties, darker blotches oozing into the silk as he rocks his hips into his touch. 

When his exceptional vision finally rights itself, Miguel notes the tearstains that streak down his cheeks, wetness clinging to the ebony eyelashes that frame his dilated pupils. He heaves a shuddering exhale, letting out a hoarse scoff at the rakish vision of himself, smeared in cum and wearing his friend's panties. 

Despite the fizzling arousal that singed the edges of his nervous system, Miguel's mind continued to develop images of you. Forever unsatiated, it conjures the depiction of you sprawled across your bed with your cum stained panties balled up and stuffed in your mouth. Your jaw aching, eyebrows stitched together as Miguel's ludicrously thick cock sinks into your tight pussy. Would you tear up, back arching as you attempt to rock your hips further onto him despite the stretch?

Flopping into his desk chair, Miguel covers his eyes with his palm and feels his ravenous cock twitch under the soiled fabric once again. He was pretty confident he'd never return this thong now...

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Oscar Isaac taglist ;

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#꒰꒰ ‧₊˚📁 ─ my works ˚₊· ꒱꒱ #꒰ ‧₊˚ miguel 🕷️ ˚₊· ꒱ #spiderverse 2 #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #spiderman #spiderverse #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fic #miguel spiderverse

[readychilledwine]

hi, would it he okay to request one where it’s reader x azriel and they’ve been struggling with fertility/getting pregnant. And after a while reader finds out she’s not only pregnant but with triplets😭😭 and they’re all crying happy tears together sith the ic and celebrate😭😍

I was struggling with fertility and finally got pregnant after so long and I couldn’t be happier, so seeing dad az would be so amazing, but I read ur latest post so if it’s a lot then please feel free to ignore ❤️❤️

No. This is perfect. I can do this. 💙💙

Azriel Week Day 6 Prompt - Past and Future - Threefold

Summary - After years of trying and unsuccessful attempts, you and Azriel finally receive everything you've asked and prayed for threefold.

Warnings - high-risk pregnancy, labor (nothing graphic), babies, illusions to miscarriages, inferred toll of pregnancy on mental health (its hard.)

A/n - this fit too perfectly for @azrielappreciationweek dad Az is my favorite to write as a father simply because his inner child deserves to heal 💜

Madja and Rhys held your upper body as another bout of sickness ripped through your stomach. You hadn't felt right for several days now. You were exhausted and irritable, and lately, nothing has stayed down.

Rhys pulled your hair back, rubbing small circles into your back. "I can call for Azriel, y/n," he offered again. "He's only doing some follow up things in Windhaven. There are no new issues."

Madja looked at the High Lord. Calling for him silently in her mind. It was clear to the healer what was going on, and she wanted you on bed arrest immediately. You and Azriel had been trying and struggling to have a babe for years. She inclined her head to Rhys, motioning for him to follow her.

"She's pregnant," she boldly said. "The scent is faint, meaning it's early, but her morning sickness indicates multiples." Rhysand's face fell, joy, happiness, fear, sadness all washing over him. You and Azriel were the last of the circle without children.

He and Feyre had 4, Cassian and Nesta had 2, Lucien and Elain had 2. Even Mor and Armen had adopted children. But you and Azriel? You had been trying for years now, and unsuccessful attempt after attempt had led to you two in long fights, heartache, and emotional turmoil.

"Were they even trying?"

Madja nodded at the question. "We tried one last alternative method. It was very painful for her. That's why I need you to command her to bedrest, Rhysand. For them."

The High Lord reentered the bathroom, gently picking you up after you finished brushing your teeth and began the pathway to your room. "You're done working for today. I'm calling for Azriel." Madja opened the door for him, watching as he gently set you down on the soft sheets and blankets you had already started subconsciously nesting with. "You will not leave this bed unless one of us is here with you."

The Riverhouse set food and water on the table, indicatine needed you needed to eat. "Madja, what's going on?"

The old healer looked at you. "I'll be able to give you a better answer once Azriel is here and I examine you."

Azriel flew hard. Not wanting to be away a single second longer after Rhysand's urgent message. He landed with a thud, and instantly went into Rhysand's office where he and Cassian sat in silence. "Where is she? What's wrong?"

Rhys motioned for him to sit and Cassian handed him the whiskey he was nursing. Rhys sighed, "She's pregnant. Madja thinks there's multiple. You're both done. You will distribute your missions until further notice and stay with your mate." Rhys paused as Azriel threw back the expensive whiskey. "Madja is with her and waiting for you for the exam."

You were laid back, Azriel holding your soft hand in his scarred ones near his mouth as he kissed each knuckle. Madja was glowing, hands over your abdomen. You watched her mouth twitch and Rhysand stop pacing in the corner before he started to just laugh. "You are indeed pregnant, my dear. With three healthy developing children. Maybe 6 weeks." Azriel's face fell first, looking at Rhysand in panic. "I will leave you two with your High Lord. He is aware of my opinion given your history." Madja left the from gracefully, a firm smile cemented on her face as she walked into the hallway where the Inner Circle waited.

Rhysand moved to the foot of the bed, leaned on the post as he looked between you and Azriel. "You're on bed rest. You will not leave this bed or go anywhere alone. No training. No long walks. No long trips into town. We," he motioned between himself and Azriel, "will set the nursery. You, my dearest y/n, will no longer lift a damn finger." Azriel had not moved, his eyes locked on you. Rhys took the silent message, leaving the room as Azriel moved onto the bed with you, his mouth immediately on yours as that dam broke and tears began to fall.

"3?" He asked in shock, a hand going to your stomach. "And 6 weeks? You're already to where-"

"I know," you interrupted softly. "If we can make it 2 more weeks, it'll be the furthest we've made it." Azriel's hand tilted your head to his, and he kissed you softly.

Azriel paused. "Rhys is asking Madja if she'd be willing to stay here with her own chambers. They're also all setting up a rotation to ensure one of them is always with us."

You nodded, hand going over his to rest on your stomach. "3."

"3," he whispered back.

6 weeks passed without complications. At, 12 weeks and you were halfway to that safe period Madja had promised. The healer had her hand over your stomach, glowing in her magic and happiness.

"Such healthy little heartbeats." You felt Azriel's body language relax and his hand gently squeeze yours. "Everything looks very healthy so far. I will not lift the bedrest, though."

You looked at Azriel, silently pleading for him to advocate for you and were met with a soft apologetic gaze. "No," he commanded softly. "You stay here. I stay here. We stay here." House arrest, bed rest, that was the only issue so far. You were used to your work, to running daily, to anything but this. Madja left with a small smile as Azriel whispered thank you, and you began to cry. "I know, my love-"

"No you don't. You do not know what it's like to be trapped here. I can't even go outside without Rhys or Cassian appearing out of fucking no where. I miss the sun, the grass." You took a deep breath. "I am confined to this house and it's many walls for the well being of our babies. I understand that, but what about my well being, Azriel? What about my mental health?"

Azriel looked down, your normally selfless mate. "I'm sorry, y/n, but until I know something as simple as laying in the sun won't hurt them, I will support you being in the home, maintaining low stress levels. I will see if I can find a compromise. Perhaps an atrium? I know you've always wanted one."

You woke up to that the very next day, Azriel, Rhys, Lucien, and Cassian were all shirtless with other workers. A room facing your favorite garden had been wrecked, the furniture all moved. They had started at sunrise and at nightfall it stopped. Between magic, skills, and your husband refusing a break, you had a skylit atrium. Rhysand moved to you, covered in dirt and sweat, tilting your chin to place a small kiss on your temple, then Cassian, then Lucien, the last leaving his hand ok your already large stomach for a little while with a happy smile.

Azriel was moving the furniture back, shadows assisting every step of the way. He finally entered the room, lifting you gently from the chair you were reading in, and placing you in the lounging couch he had moved into the full glass room.

"Az-"

"I love you," he interrupted. "And I'm sorry you're having to make this sacrifice for us and our family, but please know I love you. Please know I am just worried. We've lost so much, too many already. Please, y/n, meet me here. Let this be our common ground until Madja says otherwise."

You had no choice but to nod, eyes locked on the beautiful night sky you had not seen in what felt like months. "I'm hungry." Azriel smiled at the statement. His eyes lit up as he felt your gentle caving down the bond. "Could you perhaps bathe and feed me? Maybe out here?" Azriel nodded, pulling you into a deep kiss.

Before you blinked, your third trimester was half way over, and suddenly bedrest was all you could think about. You were uncomfortable, large, constantly feeling as if the babes were using you as a personal playground. You and the Twins were in the kitchen when it happened, tight pain shot through your stomach and wetness came, your hand flew to Cerridwen and she supported you immediately, screaming for Madja as she moved you to sit.

The next several hours blurred together. Rhysand appearing and having Cassian help him carry you to a tub per Madja's request. Him holding your mind as he apologized over and over.

It made sense that this was happening now. The one time there was a mission that required Azriel. The one time he was in the Mortal Lands, having to spy on the Queen furthest from your home. Rhysand held your hand through the process, Cassian helping support your body as every inch of you felt like giving up and going out.

Until that first scream came. That first wail of life. That first tiny little body handled to one of the twins, small perfect wings intact. "Push, y/n," Rhys whispered softly. "They need their siblings." It could have been but moments, possibly hours. You didn't know. But a second cry came followed by the door slamming open and Azriel running to your side, allowing Rhysand to move and help with the babes.

"I'm so sorry," you kept saying, guilt hitting you at his bittersweet joy of missing two of the babes being born. "I-"

"It's okay. I'm here for this one." Azriel kissed your temple. "Two have wings, my love. You are doing so well."

The third cry came soon after, your body wanting to be done before finally giving out as Azriel and Cassian waited for Madja to heal you the best she could. She nodded and they removed you from the tub, body absolute done as you rested in Azriel's chest.

Cassian had gone to the babes, his excitement too heavy. Soon the whole Inner Circle and Nyx sat in the room, waiting for Madja to begin the announcements. She walked one of the babies to you, "First Born, winged, healthy weight for a triplet. Boy." Azriel stilled, his grip on your hand tightening.

Rhys walked the second over, a familiar soft look in his eyes, "Second born, winged, also healthy and hungry. Boy."

Cassian was sobbing holding his little bundle, looking at Azriel and then nodding. Your mate's dam broke, handing you the two sons instantly and reaching for the baby Cassian had. "Third born. Wingless for now, we all know that won't be the case forever, though. A little smaller than Madja would like. Girl."

Azriel held her close, his eyes locked on her perfect little face as tears fell. "You promised," he reminded you gently. You were too busy, admiring your boys to even respond. They were holding hands, both searching for their sister. "Y/n."

You broke your stare, brows knit in confusion. "They're your lineage, Azriel. You know you have last say in their names." Madja and the Inner Circle now stood closer as Azriel studied the babes one by one, never letting go of his daughter.

"Ophelia," he handed her gently to you. "After my mother." He took one of the boys, stroking his little cheek softly. He was holding the second born, who was wearing a serious pout. The was the largest of the three, little wings trying to stretch already on his back. "Ramiel. Because I have a gut feeling." Nyx laughed gently, silently asking to take his cousin and get him situated for a bottle. Azriel gave him to his nephew, a look of warning on his face. He took the oldest, who immediately took a scarred finger into his tiny hands. "Opinions, love," he asked you before realizing you were feeding your daughter. "She just decided to latch on there, huh?"

"Pretty much," you looked at your oldest son, the second smallest. Face all smiles. "Arnan," you looked to Armen. "After his aunt who found the method that brought them into the world." She was at Azriel's side immediately, taking the babe from him without him even putting up a fight.

*3 months later*

You and Azriel sat in the nursery. The boys in his arms, feeding softly from bottles, your daughter in yours breastfeeding. Figuring out a schedule to ensure all of them breastfed once or twice a day had been difficult but the routine was easy now. Ophelia slept best through the night after skin to skin and breastfeeding. Arnan was less fussy in the mornings when his breakfast came directly from you. Ramiel napped better after an afternoon breast feeding. "They're holding their heads up so well," Azriel cooed. "My strong boys." He was a male obsessed and in love. He was frequently out your shared bed at night, and you'd find him, sleeping with all three of them on his broad bare chest in the nursery. He was the perfect father despite not having an example of how to be one.

"I think our sweet girl will get there soon," you kept watch on her, holding her little hand as she reached for you. "We're just a Danity little thing, though so Heaven forbid daddy has to carry and coddle us more." You teased them both as Azriel's jaw dropped.

"I can't help it, love. Look at her, look at those eyes, that nose, her little smile. I'll carry her to Spring and back by foot." He stood, burping both of the boys and laid them in their cribs before coming to sit in front of his girl. "I want her when you're done."

"You say that until they poop."

"They're so warm and happy after breastfeedings, y/n." He watched as she unlatched by choice, reaching for her father's familiar voice and he took her. "And her belly is all full. And she's so happy. My little star. The perfect ending to our family's constellation." He walked her to her crib, continuing to coo her. "All of my little stars," he turned their mobiles on, watching as they all slowly shut their eyes and then walked to you.

He left the door open a crack, escorting you to your adjoining bedroom. Once inside he kissed you, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he did, and rested his forehead against yours. "I love you."

"I love you too. Let's go to bed. Please. They hardly napped at all today. Nyx got them that damn toy and I am still deciding if our nephew gets to live." Azriel laughed quietly, moving to the bed with a hand holding yours. "Perhaps tonight you could stay here."

He paused, staring at you as he pulled the blanket over you two. "I don't know what you're talking about." His cheeks were slightly flushed. "I always stay the night here."

You kissed his hand. "Of course you do, Azzie. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, y/n."

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azrielweek2023 #dad!azriel x reader

[w0rmm1lk]

I saw that you were receiving requests and I was wondering if you could write a Bakugou x male reader angst (both adults and married if possible, but it doesn't necessarily have to be.) where they There's an argument and the reader leaves the house at night and comes back just a week later (because Bakugou said some bad things. I don't think he would do that but I love angst where the character almost literally has to kneel down and ask the reader for forgiveness 😭😭😭) I'm sorry if it's too detailed and forgive my English, I'm Brazilian and I'm using Google Translate ☠️... (oh! and with a happy ending please🥺)

Yayyy first request hehe

Summary: reader and bakugo got into a small argument about bakugo not being home enough due to his hero work, bakugo being himself the argument escalated into something worse.

reader: Male

other details: Hero!Bakugo, Readers job not mentioned (can be read as hero reader or other). It is mentioned that reader has a sibling but details about them are not specified.

warnings: angst-(fluff at end), swearing(its bakugo what did you expect) implied married reader and bakugo but not mentioned. Kinda ooc but I tried my best 🥲

You and bakugo had been together for quite some time. You first started the relationship when he was in his second year at UA, but you had known eachother since middle school. So of course you knew eachother very well, and were very close. Or well, as close as you can be with bakugo.

when you first got together he had been quite distant, but you understood. He wasn’t use to this kind of thing, yet it didn’t take him long to adjust. Long story short after he graduated you both ended up moving in together.

you had quickly gotten use to how much bakugo worked. He was so desperate to be the No.1 hero, and of course as his boyfriend/husband you supported him in that. Yet, sometimes you felt that he was more focused on that than you. He was rarely ever home leaving you to do most of the house work, including the laundry, dishes, buying groceries, ect. at first it wasn’t anything to worry about, you were mostly okay with it since you got to stay home most of the time, but sometimes it would get lonley. It was weird… you had been in a relationship for so long and even lived with him yet the house felt so empty and devoid of life. You thought that it was maybe a good idea to bring this up with bakugo. He would understand…right?

You ended up needing to stay up quite late that night waiting for him to return. He always worked overtime just to get his rank higher. He was already in the top ten… why did he worry so much…?

you felt a small jolt of surprise when you heard the front door unlock, sitting up you looked over to see bakugo. Despite being right there he didn’t seem to notice you.

“Katsuki..? Can we talk real quick?” You spoke, trying to seem calm. Despite this your heart was beating like crazy, it felt like some part of you was screaming to not bring up the issues. “Hm? Oh, you’re still awake.” He replied.. yet it seemed quite delayed.

“ah- yeah… but we need to talk.” He looked over with an annoyed expression. “Not right now.” His reply… shocked you to say the least. “Katsuki. It’s important. It’ll be quick I just need to—“ he cut you off with an annoyed sigh. “I said not right now Y/N.”

“This can’t really wait for later—“ he glared. “Do you not get what *not right now* means?” He raised his voice slightly as he spoke, his eyes piercing into your softer gaze. “It’ll be quick—! I swear.” You spoke, hoping that he would take a moment to sit down and hear you out.

he rolled his eyes tilting his head back letting out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.” I felt a bit of relief as he accepted. I waited a moment as he sat down on the couch beside me. “The hell do you want? It’s so goddamn late.” Despite him agreeing to speak it was clear how much he didn’t want to.

“i… I was thinking, could you maybe… try spending a bit more time at home…? I know how important your hero work is to you- and I don’t want to stop you from reaching your goal but… we haven’t really spent much time together in the last few months, and— I guess I’ve been kinda lonley…?”

he stared at you, his gaze not breaking for even a second as he spoke. You looked back as you finished, expecting him to understand, but instead you were met with a rather… interesting, expression.

his expression gave off the kinda mood of *are you being serious?*

“that’s what this was about? This is what was so fucking important you just had to talk about it right now?”

what he said… it almost hurt slightly. “What…? What do you mean? I think this is something that’s pretty important.” He rolled his eyes at your response. “Tch, I get how needy you are but I can’t just throw away all my work just for you.”

“what-? I- that’s not what I’m saying-! You’re only ever home at night after I’m asleep and you’re gone once I wake up! I’m not being needy! And asking to see you at least once everyday while living in the same house is not being needy!”

his expression made it clear he was pissed off. “Do you not realise how important my work is? How important it is for me to become no.1? Or does it all not matter to you?!” You stare at him in slight shock, it was weird how much he was misunderstanding the situation.

“that’s not what I mean! I just want to spend more time with you-! If I’m going to be stuck at home all day I at least want to see someone-! Especially you!”

“I can’t just throw away my work to spend my whole day with you! My life doesn’t revolve around you!” He stood up looking down at you.

“Katsuki! That’s not what I mean-! You—“ He cut you off. “If you think I can put everything aside just for you then— you’re mistaken.” There was an awkward silence in the room for just a moment. “You should just go.” You stared at him, your eyes locked onto eachother. “What…?” “Tch— I said you should go-!”

“Katsuki— what are you talking about?!”

“…. You know damn well what I mean.”

the silence started again lasting for a good twenty seconds. You could feel the tears building up yet not spilling. “Fine.” You stood up grabbing your phone and keys walking out the door. You didn’t know what to do but just listen.

you looked at your phone for just a moment before texting your sibling, you didn’t really have anywhere to stay so you hoped they would let you crash at their place for a bit. You stare at the small screen… it was late so you could only hope they were still awake to reply. The amount of relief you felt when your screen lit up and a small notification read

..”sure.”

the next few days passed by so painfully slow. You stared at your phone most the time just hoping to see a notification from Bakugo, some sort of apology, or just a check up. nothing.

it didn’t help that he was quite a popular hero, you couldn’t even watch the news without seeing him.

after a full week past without anything from him, you realise that this was most likley an end to your relationship. All these years thrown away simply because you couldn’t handle not being near him.

you picked up your phone hesitating before sending bakugo a simple message.

“im coming over to grab my stuff. Be there in 20.”

you looked as the message sent, of course he left you on read.

despite it only being a 20 minutes drive, it felt like hours. Your mind was racing, you were nervous, scared to see him. As you walked to the front door you hesitated standing there for a good 30 seconds before finally knocking.

your heart was beating fast as the front door opened. “…come in.” He spoke. He looked more tired than ever, if anything it was a surprise he was even home. You simply nodded, stepping inside. The house looked like shit. You weren’t thinking that to be rude, it genuine looked like bakugo wasn’t doing anything to take care of it.

“y/n i—“ he was cut off staring at you, as you gave him the same glare he sent you a week ago. He averted his eyes like he was holding back tears. “Please— let’s… let’s talk about this….?”

“…what is there to talk about. You made it clear how you feel.”

“i— I had some time to think… a… a lot of time and— i- im… Tch— im fucking sorry okay?!”

you continued to stare at him, though the apology was genuine, you were scared to accept. You didn’t want things to just go back to how they were before.

“please y/n i— I didn’t realise how much I need you.. you’re so god damn important to me… i… took you for granted.”

you stayed silent staring at him. It’s not that you were being rude, you simply didn’t know what to say. You could see the desperation in his eyes but didn’t expect him to start tearing up.

“Y/n… please don’t leave me-! I.. I need you… please…” you watched as he grasped your hands tears pouring down his face as he struggled to even breath.

“im sorry for everything I said I— I had so much time to think and… I didn’t have my priorities straight! So please let’s just… let’s talk over this okay…?”

without a word you lifted a hand up wiping the tears from bakugos eyes before resting a hand on his cheek. “You’ll do better this time right…? It won’t just go back to how it was before…?”

you could see a spark in his eyes now that you finally answered. “I promise-! I— it won’t happen again just— please— don’t leave me…”

you let out a soft sigh. “I won’t leave you. And… I forgive you.” You heald onto his hands gently for just a moment before he pulled you in holding you close.

“i… don’t know how I ever took a man like you for granted.”

(end)

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha x male reader #bnha x male reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugo x male reader #bakugou x male reader #mha x reader angst #mha x male reader angst #x reader angst #x male reader angst

[sanjisblackasswife]

i was wondering how would the monster trio react if they randomly got a boner and bro im SURE sanji’s cock twitches 47 times a day given the thoughts he constantly has 🙄🙄 zoro gets them while he sleeps so he waits for his dick to calm down before standing up,, people think he’s lazy but he’s just hard and doesn’t want anybody to know🤭🤭

luffy’s dick gets hard when he thinks about being the pirates king 😒😒

“𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝔾𝕖𝕥𝕤 ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕕 ℝ𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕞𝕝𝕪”

All are very canon cuz i seen it for myself.

Ft. Zoro, Luffy, Sanji

Blk Fem! Reader in Mind

CW: Dick talk, established relationships because i wanna project and include myself😓

Luffy

When he gets hard it’s really rare and i feel like it’s partially because of his rubbery body….does that even make sense

He gets hard from very few things and they’re always so minuscule or random its hard to know if he’s actually turned on or if his body is just trynna be funny.

You once made him a dessert that you really wanted to try without the assistance of sanji and when Luffy ate it he not only fell in love with you, but loved the sweet pastry so much you noticed a tent grow in his shorts

Very shameless in the morning by the way.

Every man gets morning wood at least once a lifetime and when Luffy gets it

everybody knows.

“LUFFY PUT THAT THING AWAY?!”

“Calm down, Nami it’ll go down in a sec..😄”

Has been heard by the guys a few times with him jacking off late night when his hard on is just so bothersome.

“GO DO THAT SOMEWHERE ELSE—“

“OR GO SEE Y/N!”

“Dont wanna. Shes too far. Im almost done dont worry.”

Usopp ends up pissed the entire day.

His boners can ironically go down quickly if he eats meat.

You swear his dick has a mind of it’s own, all you did was tell him about how much higher his bounty would get after defeating Kaido and his dick started poking you in the back.

Now he is still a guy and guys also can be attracted to women so you being his girlfriend—you’re not necessarily excluded.

However he gets hard at the simplest things you do.

Taking his hat, Calling him captain, even play fighting with him he ends up getting hard so hopefully youre a good gf and willing to help him out when it happens😁

Zoro

He claims he can control his erections .

No he cannot.

If he’s in a relationship with you he’s more shy about letting you know about his dick problems because you dont want him to think hes a pervert.

He can’t control a damn thing his dick does which is why he blames you.

“I had more balance before I met you—“

“Wh—HELLO?”

“LOOK. WOMAN.”

All you did was hug him.

Like u said: When he gets morning wood he is usually laying around a little longer. He has tried jacking off while in the room with the guys as they slept but he heard Luffy sleep walking (with his own hard on) and immediately just went back to sleep.

He very rarely does get hard though. However you plan to find out every single thing that turns him hard and so far you only found 2:

The first one is kissing, hes a touch starved man and you can never help yourself when it comes to locking lips with him. Your tongue wrapped around his, your hands on his chest and straddling him as he gropes your ass, he’s so needy it’s almost too cute to handle. and the look on his face when you feel him poke you is absolutely EVERYTHING.

The one that shocked you the most was when youre arguing with him. He doesnt know why he gets turned on by how mad you get whether it’s at him or someone else but the blood flow of his dick is damn near on fire. Maybe it’s because you have an accent when you speak fast, maybe it’s because it’s a rare occurrence, or maybe zoro is a freak. But seeing you so pent up and pissed makes his pants tight

Zoro getting hard consist of him being irritable, quiet, and trying to isolate himself until he or you fix the issue

Sanji

He’s always half hard.

Wanna know something else, his blood fits he has (the ones that didnt turn into a fucking plot point) are representing each time he gets hard.

Anyways though, he masturbates regularly. If he’s not cooking or out with the crew he is in the bathroom helping himself.

His hard ons are easy to spot because he’ll hide himself behind a counter with blush on his face or stand behind you.

He is shameless with his hardons only when you’re around.

He can get hard just by seeing you smile so have fun with that.

But he gets incredibly hard(and even easier) after you both have had sex before

If you all are on the deck and you wanna wear another thin ass bikini of course he is going to get hard. Thinking about the things he’d do to you if you just gave him the green light.

Which is also why Sanji stares at you a lot.

So he will come behind you and bury his face in your shoulder or neck whining.

You don’t mind it. It’s cute to see him rut up behind your ass, his accent slipping through .

“May we..go to your room please?”

If you say yes he will walk SUPER close behind you tying to hide his painful erection, mumbling small praises and thanks for you being so understanding.

He’s so grateful for you :(

#one piece #TimikosMonsterTrio #black reader #one piece headcanons #one piece x female reader #sanji #one piece smut #sanjionepiece #one piece x black!reader #sanji imagine #sanji x black reader #sanji x reader #x female reader #female reader #black foot sanji #one piece scenario #zoro headcanons #luffy #sanji smut #zoro hcs #luffy headcanons

[nina-renmen]

You’re Mine

Yandere Price x black reader soulmate au pt.2

pt.1 pt.3

Warnings⚠️: Yandere themes, blood, gore, empty threats, death, parents wanting reader to date within her race, family issues, profanity

summary: Y/n gets back from her mission but price is suspicious of her and catches on to her avoidance

“Stop nagging me.” Y/n barked out, turning away from her teammate as she prepared her dinner. A month had gone by, and soap was still nagging her.

“Not until you tell me why.” Soap huffed.

“Soap, stop-“

“You know, not everyone gets the chance to meet their soulmate.

”Soap-“

This is the chance of a lifetime!”

“I said stop!!”

Soaps voice died down. Your voice echoing throughout the halls. “Y/n?”

“I’m scared…” Y/n’s voice was barely above a whisper. “What if he’s not the man I need? What if my family doesn’t approve?”

“Y/n, why wouldn’t your family approve? I mean…sure he’s about a decade older than you but…” Soap trailed off, you were right. You would be his controversially young soulmate.

“Not just that…my family. My family wants me to marry inside my culture. Bringing him home would-“

“How do you know?” Soap cut you off. His form looking over yours. “They make hints at it, the one time I came over with a-“

“But they haven’t said it outright. Y/n I know your family. You’re thinking too much about this. They just want you to meet someone. Yes, preferably someone that’s in your ethnicity but it’s not a requirement.” Soap out his hand in your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Talk to the captain. I’m sure price would be enthusiastic-“

“Enthusiastic about what?”

Y/n’s face paled. The two were facing the counter. The man behind them could only see the back of their heads.

Soap looked down at y/n. She vigorously shook her head no making the males shoulder drop. “We’ll com’on, what this thing going on between you two? You’ve been runnin around like headless chickens for the past mon.” Prices gruff voice reached the females’ ears.

Y/n turned around, soap followed. Prices gaze locked onto the female. He never noticed the colors in her hair before. It brought out her skin tone. “You look like you’re gonna hurl sergent.” Price commented, folding his arms over his chest. Y/n only shook her head opting to leave the room “oh no you don’t, my office. Now.” Price barked out orders. “I’m tired of you avoiding me. We need to sort this out.”

“Captin, I don’t think-“

“Don’t wanna hear it soap.” Price cut off the shorter male. Johnny casted y/n an apologetic look as y/n hesitantly walked past him. Price shot Johnny a glare before following after you.

Entering his office Price could see you settling inside. Or…maybe not since you were so stiff. You stood off to the side, hands clasped and a blank expression on your face. Y/n’s colored eyes followed his every steps like a predator.

“Have a seat.” Price said as he walked around his desk, sitting in his chair. With careful, hesitant steps y/n sat in front of his desk. Her muscles were tight, hands in her lap. As if she was a rookie once more, standing in front of a yelling sergent.

“You’ve been avoiding me y/n. Every time you see me you go the other way. What’s up with that?” Price asked, leaning back in his chair.

No answer from y/n.

“Look, I get you’re anxious but I can’t have someone on my team if they can’t even communicate with their captain.” Annoyance was evident in Prices voice. But he couldn’t be mad at you. For some reason he kept thinking about you late at night. He had to remind himself that he had a soulmate, he wouldn’t end up like his parents.

Still no answer from y/n.

Price was starting to get frustrated. “Look sweetheart,” Price chuckled, trying to simmer the frustration. He noticed y/n’s gaze on his lips, her eyes softened, her shoulders loosening ever so slightly. Price continued to speak “I don’t think this team is right for y-“

“You should smile more….Its cute.” Y/n’s voice was barely above a whisper, but her voice still reached Prices ears. Almost immediately the room quieted. A burning sensation was on John’s arm. “What did you say-“

“I’ll see myself out captain.” Y/n stood up, the chair behind her almost falling over. “I’ll ask Laswell to switch me to another team. Have a good night.”

John felt like he couldn’t breathe. You? You were his soulmate? For once in his life he was glad about soulmate privileges within the rules. The regulations let soldiers get intimate with eachother as long as they could prove they were soulmates. “Y/n wait! I didn’t know-“ The sound of the door closing cut off the older male, snapping him out of his daze.

With quick steps he opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. You weren’t there causing John to close his office door and search for you. His heart pounding in his chest, he wished he hadn’t chewed you out. He wished he hadn’t made empty threats towards you. He just wanted you to talk.

After an hour of searching for you he began to get frustrated. Why couldn’t he find you?! “Ghost.” Price called out, causing the taller male to look up from whatever he was doing on his phone.

“Where’s Cobra?” He asked in a rushed tone.

“Soaps room.” Ghost said before looking back down at his phone. John’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned on his heel. Why the fuck were you in soaps room. Jealousy swirled in John’s chest like a festering blister.

Price knocked on Soaps door. Within a couple of seconds Soap opened the door just enough so John could see him. “Where is she?” Price asked, arms crossed over his chest.

“Where’s who?” Soap questioned, playing dumb.

“I’m not fuckin stupid Johnny, I know she’s in here-“

“With all due respect captin’ she doesn’t want to talk with you-“

“As her soulmate I have the right to talk with her. Open the door Soap. That’s an order.”

The area became quiet. Soap glancing in a random direction in his room. The sound of soft, padded footsteps came from behind the door. “It’s okay Johnny.” Y/n whispered, making Soaps harsh grip on the door knob loosen. The door slowly opened to see y/n standing next to Soap.

The bare expression on y/n’s face seemed broken. She looked away from Price. “I want to talk….privately.” Price’s voice was softer than it was with Johnny. Soap casted y/n a glance as if encouraging her to go on. “Alright….fine.”

The walk to his office was…awkward. Y/n kept her distance from Price. But as soon as the door to his office closed Price spoke up. Y/n’s back was turned to him as she wrapped her arms around her midsection.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Price asked. His back leaning up against the closed door. “You made me believe….”

“I was worried.” Y/n spoke up. Turning around to look at him. She looked as if she were about to cry. Her eyes glossy as she looked down at the floor. “What could you possibly be worried about?” Price questioned as he closed the distance between the two of you. “Look up at me.”

When you didn’t look up at him Price hooked his fingers under your chin. Pulling your face up to look at him. “I’m not here as your captain. I’m not even here as a damn friend. I’m here as a lover. So don’t give me a bullshit excuse.” Prices voice was barely above a whisper. As if speaking too loud would scare you away.

“My family…I mean…the age gap between us is..” Y/n trailed off.

“We’re both adults y/n. There ain’t nothin wrong with that. Whatever they have to say they can keep it to themselves.” Price said.

“It’s not just that…My family wants me to marry in my culture-“

“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding sweetheart.” Price said as he moved your hair out of your face.

“No….You don’t get it. I can’t loose my family over this.” Y/n said.

“Would you choose your family over me?” Price asked, forcing y/n to look up at him. Y/n didn’t respond at first. “Well? Would you?”

“Yes….yes I would.”

Likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated

#x reader #fem reader #black reader #yandere #yandere x reader #captain price x reader #john price #captain price #price #price x reader #call of duty #cod #john price x black reader #yandere John price #Yandere John price x black reader #yandere x fem reader #yandere male #Yandere John price x black fem reader #Black reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #black fem reader #black writers #black fanfic writer #yandere price x black fem reader #yandere price x black reader #price x you #price x y/n #Nina-renmen’s posts

[katebishopsbaefy]

Whatever You Say

pairing: kate bishop x reader (can kind of be read as platonic but there's a couple of things that imply romantic stuff)

summary: you have a nightmare and kate helps you feel better🥰😋

warnings: nightmares, like one swear word, kate is pretty dorky

word count: 1163

notes: hey everyone i said i would make this like a month ago or something but i did not have time and really i didnt have time now either because i have SO MUCH homework that is so much writing but this is more fun😊 anyway im literally in love with her no joke shes so pretty living up to my username woooooohooooooo also also also i wrote this so late at night i am so tired but i was on a writing spree and i ran it through grammarly so i think its probably mostly fine but either way ignore any spelling or grammar issues pretty please😁

Shaking and sweating, your body jolts awake with the force of your nightmare. Eyes flying open, heavy breaths, eventually gaining enough consciousness to notice the tight grip on your sheets you hadn’t realized you had. With a quick glance at your phone, the numbers glow 3:43.  You rub your eyes and sit up, hands coming away wet with tears you hadn’t realized had fallen. The darkness of your room threatened to consume you.

You’d been staying at the Avengers compound recently. Since you had some time off of school, you figured it would be nice to spend time with everyone. Your room was next to Kate’s, and you knew for a fact she would be awake playing video games. Desperately needing to get out of your room, you make your way over to the door. Really you just wanted to see her. Really you just needed to be near her.

Light showed from the bottom of her door, signaling she was still awake like you predicted. You knock quietly on her door after wiping your face one more time, and after a quick “Yeah?” from the other side, you squeeze through the door into Kate’s room. She knew it was you without having to look.

“Hey,” she says, not looking up from her computer, “why are you up so late?”

You try to reply, but all that comes out is a choke and a sniff.

Her head jerks in your direction at the sound, worry immediately lacing her features as she looks over your tear-stained face. You quickly make your way over to her sitting figure and stand between her legs. She pauses her game, gently taking your hands into hers and squeezing them to reassure you that you’re okay. One hand reaches up to wipe away your tears as she stands out of her chair. You lean your face into her hand, your body into hers. She moves her arms to wrap around your shaking shoulders and you bury your face in her neck.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers, rubbing your back. You let out another quiet sob into her shoulder and cling tighter to her hoodie, shaking your head.

It’s quiet for a couple of minutes before she speaks up again. “Nightmare?” she says even quieter than before. Your eyes squeeze shut and you nod. This time her grip on you tightens. “It’s okay, I got you.”

You pull away and wipe your eyes on your sleeve once you calm down a little. “Sorry for coming in here so late. You can go back to your game, I’m sorry,” you say quietly, making a move to leave.

“Hey, no, don’t do that,” Kate pulls you back before you can get too far. “What can I do to help?” she asks genuinely. As you gaze at her through puffy eyes, she takes your hand again. 

“Can I sleep in here tonight?” you whisper so quietly she almost doesn’t hear you. Thankfully she does, though, and smiles so softly at you that you think you might melt. You’re unable to see the light pink color that tints her cheeks because of the darkness at the suggestion. You know if it wasn’t so late she might’ve started rambling nervously, which you always thought was cute, but you appreciated the softness and sincerity radiating off of her at the moment. 

“Whatever you want. Let me shut off my stuff and then I’ll come with you,” she turns to turn off her game.

“No, you don’t have to. It’s okay. You should finish your game. I’m okay, really,” you tell her. You feel bad for interrupting her alone time, and all you really need is the company. Watching her play her game and sitting on her bed sounded perfect.

“Are you sure? I don’t have to, it’s not a big deal,” she replies.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just need to be near someone.”

“Okay,” she smiles at you and kisses your cheek, “I’ll try not to take too long.”

She sits back down, continuing where she left off. You plop yourself onto her bed and get comfy under the covers. You move in a position so you can see her character over her shoulder. Watching the screen intently, you notice something she misses.

“Kate, there’s a thing behind you,” you point out. You don’t exactly know what it is, but you feel like you should probably point it out.

“Huh?” she questions under her breath, turning her character around. “Oh shit,” she says louder this time, quickly shooting the guy in the face. Apparently, that wins the level for her, and the screen changes. She spins her chair around to face you lying on the bed, smiling. “Thanks for the heads up.”

You smile back. “No problem. Are you done now?”

“Yeah,” she replies, shutting off her computer. She quickly makes her way over, jumping clean over you to the other side of the bed. It makes both you and her bounce on the bed, the whole thing shaking with the sudden movement.

“That was unnecessary,” you giggle, snuggling closer to her.

“Quicker than walking,” she puts her arm around your shoulder, resting your head on her collarbone. She kisses your head very gently. “Less scary, too. Monsters can’t grab your feet if there are no feet to grab,” she shrugs.

“Whatever you say.”

You yawn as Kate starts to rub your back through your shirt, knowing it helps you sleep. She watches you try to fight sleep, moving her hand under the fabric to brush her fingers over your bare skin. “Sleepy?” she asks.

“No.” You force your eyes to open again. You’re tired but don't want to have another nightmare. 

It’s silent for a minute. “Do you want to talk about it?” Kate asks quietly. She feels your grip on her shirt tighten a little and decides to rest her free hand on yours, rubbing circles on both it and your back. She knows the answer before it leaves your mouth, before you even have time to think about it. “We don’t have to. I just want to help you feel better.”

“I do feel better,” you say. And you do feel better with her, but you’re not sure if you feel up to going back to sleep.

“Are you sure?” You nod. “Okay. If you wanna sleep, I’ll be here the whole time. I can fight off any bad dreams. See these muscles?” She flexes her arm a little bit and taps the side of your head. “Don’t even worry about it, I got you. I’ll just punch ‘em in the face.”

You giggle at her antics. Usually, you’d tell her she’s cheesy or not as ripped as she thinks she is, but you’re too sleepy to mess with her.

“Whatever you say, Katie.” 

You fall asleep not even five minutes later. Kate shifts a little to flick off the light and pulls the blanket up further, fully intent on keeping her word.

You don't have another nightmare for the rest of the night.

#kate bishop fluff #kate bishop x reader #marvel #young avengers #hawkeye #kate bishop #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #kate bishop fanfic #mcu #mcu fic

[raainy-daze]

don't mind me requesting stuff

so what if there was a y/n character who was super surprised when anyone initiated physical contact because who would want to touch anyone like them? (their words)

and so donnie doesn't like physical contact, but the first hug after nearly dying just sends reader into a fucking chopping board. they are stiff as a brick and have their hands awkwardly at their side cause, again, why would anyone (especially someone as amazing as donnie) want to make any contact with them?

(gn!reader please)

You Survived! Now Have Emotions

rottmnt!donnie x gn!reader

summary: wow. explosions sure do just mess up your day, don’t they? oh well, you survived. you kind of have to explain your issues with touch to donnie now, though.

word count: 1609

warnings for maybe slightly ooc?? it’s 12:45 at night i don’t know how good it is okay

a/n: thanks for requesting! sorry this took so ridiculously long. good luck to everyone it applies to on thanksgiving family reunion hell!

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How were you not dead right now?

Hell, you weren’t even just not dead, you only had minor injuries. That was a lot better than you had hoped in the moment. You had plenty of scratches and bruises, but nothing was broken, you were sure of that much. You tested moving cautiously, moving one limb at a time before standing up. The worst damage was taken by your right leg. Sprained, maybe. Not bad enough to not be able towalk, though, thank god. You limped a bit, but hey, that still counted as walking.

There was one catch, though. When the battle was over, and you had fully assessed your injuries, you were alone. Completely, horribly alone. So, you set out, stumbling a bit on your bad leg, in search of your friends.

You called out each of their names, one at a time.

“April!” You’d been closest to her in the fight, towards the back. Why hadn’t she been knocked the same direction you had?

“Mikey!” He’d been the farthest from the explosion, you were pretty sure. If you were fine, surely he’d be uninjured.

“Leo?” Had you even seen him? Last you remembered, he had ported off somewhere, probably with some kind of idea that came too late.

“Raph?” If anyone would be hurt, it would be him, he was closest to the blast. God, you hoped he was fine. He’s tough, he wouldn’t be…? Right?

“Donnie…?” You didn’t even want to think about him, as your thoughts grew steadily darker. You were fine. You were fine. Why wouldn’t everyone else be?

You didn’t know what you’d do without him.

How far could that damn explosion have thrown you? Pretty far, apparently. You weren’t even entirely sure what had caused it. You must’ve been near something flammable, and not noticed in the heat of the fight.

For a moment, you considered that you might be going in the wrong direction, but that couldn’t be right. You could see clear signs of destruction, getting steadily more obvious as you made your way along.

“Guys…?” The longer you spent in your head, the more pessimistic your thoughts got. Your final call was pathetically weak. Your ankle hurt more the farther you walked. You had finally reached the scene of the carnage again. Surely an explosion like that would make any villain flee.

At first, your call wasn’t answered. You shut your eyes, exhausted. You might as well collapse, wait for the others to find you. Or the police, if they showed up soon.

“(Y/N)!”

So much for collapsing.

You turned towards the voice, searching desperately for its source. You found it, all right, right in the middle of this stupid battle site. You felt your energy immediately restore itself. “Donnie!”

He was standing on a pile of debris, right where the explosion had gone off. He didn’t seem to have taken any more damage than you had. You watched as Donnie scrambled down from his perch atop the rubble (which, you would later learn, had been an attempt at a lookout) and began running to greet you.

You smiled a rather tired, albeit relieved, smile, and raised a hand in greeting. You unfortunately were not expecting for Donnie to practically slam into you, pulling you into quite possibly the tightest hug you’d ever been in.

Your brain reacted not unlike a computer crashing. You went entirely stiff, not knowing how else you were meant to react. Time almost slowed down as several facts went through your head all at once.

Fact one: people touching you was not a normal occurrence. Why would it be? You weren’t the kind of person people would usually want to hug, or anything like that.

Fact two: Donnie was just about the least touchy-feely person you knew. You only ever saw him hug people in… well, in situations like this, you guessed.

Fact three: even if Donnie wasn’t so against touch most of the time, you wouldn’t expect something like this anyways. He was so great in almost every way, and you didn’t think you were anywhere near his level.

So, you shut down, with no understanding of what to do. Thankfully soon, Donnie let go of you, though you noticed his hands stayed hovering by your shoulders. “(Y/N), are you okay?”

And you found yourself back in reality, even as your thoughts stayed confusing each other. You felt something wet roll down your face. Oh, god, you were crying. You were crying.

Donnie was never exactly the go-to guy for feelings, so needless to say, neither of you were having a great time figuring out what was going on. “Oh, crap crap crap, please don’t cry-“

That’s the moment someone else chose to make an appearance. More specifically, April and Mikey. They were jogging up from the street opposite of where you’d come from. You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or terrified. On the one hand, they were alive! On the other hand, that was two more people to see you crying. Who likes people watching them crying?

So, you turned your face away, wiping away tears with your hands and trying to hold your sobs in, as they ran your way. They were both yelling, though you were having some trouble filtering it through your head. You hoped it wasn’t something important.

The next hour or so was a blur. Raph was okay. Well, he was alive and not in a coma, at least. He was definitely still worse for wear, though, which wasn’t all that surprise considering you found him heavily dazed in the same pile of rubble Donnie had climbed. At some point, Leo had ported back, yelling something about a solution to the problem which had already vanished. At least he was useful for getting everyone back to the lair without having to climb through the sewers.

That was where you sat now, on the edge of the bigger group. Everyone was treating each other’s injuries, and Mikey was explaining what had happened to Splinter alongside occasional amendments by the others. You had determined that your ankle was, in fact, sprained, and treated it best you could. You weren’t sure how you’d explain what happened to your parents, but you were sure you’d figure it out.

Every so often, you’d catch Donnie glancing at you, which you had only noticed due to you doing the same thing.

As everyone was caught up in stories and follow-up plans, Donnie got up from the first aid kit to sit next to you. The air around you just felt a little uncomfortable, and neither of you spoke for several moments.

“Is everything alright?” Donnie was the one to break the silence. He spoke in a low voice, so as not to draw attention from the others.

“Just peachy. I love getting into near death experiences.” Though phrased as a joke, your voice was flat. He tried setting a hand on your shoulder, only for you to flinch away. “Why are you doing that? And why did you hug me?”

“Well, I was worried about you.” He looked somewhat confused. “And I was happy that you were okay. And I thought that people liked to be touched, usually, so… (Y/N), did I do something wrong?”

“Well, yeah… no? I don’t know. I’m just… well, you’re so cool. And all that. I guess I just… don’t think I deserve it?”

“Excuse me?” If you thought Donnie was confused before, you hadn’t seen anything yet. He looked almost offended. “Deserve it? I’m sorry, who hurt you? Of course you deserve it.”

He continued in what was almost a whisper, as his brothers made some dramatic explosion noise (you think? None of them are great at explosion noises.)

“Look, (Y/N), I know that I don’t usually… you know, touch people, but if anyone deserves it, it’s you. You’re awesome, okay?”

You bit your tongue and turned away from him. You were not going to cry again, especially not now in a place where everyone would most definitely notice.

“Donnie!” Leo cut in. “Did I or did I not specifically say, ‘oh hey, I bet that thing’s going to blow up’?”

Your conversation was marked as ended (or at the very least, put off) as his brothers dragged him into bickering over the details of the day’s events. April rolled her eyes and came to sit with you two, so you resolved to pull yourself together for the time being. The rest of your time in the lair was spent talking things over with April, laying down your cover story to your families.

The incident wouldn’t be brought up again until a week later in the lab, where you thankfully didn’t need to worry about everyone watching you. You talked it over, and you explained your mindset more to Donnie.

After that, things continued as normal. If you were fine with it, Donnie would make a point to make some kind of contact every so often. Usually not full on hugs unless he was in a particularly good mood, but he’d try to have a hand on your shoulder, or maybe holding your own hand.

It didn’t go entirely unnoticed by the others. Every so often, one of his brothers (usually Leo) would make a remark about your special treatment, but that was it. You didn’t feel like talking about it with much anyone else, anyways.

Neither of you were great at touch. That was simply a given of life. But you tried your best, and maybe that was enough. You just hoped you’d never have to go through that again.

#tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #tmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #donnie x reader #donnie x gn!reader

[sundeathh]

Aizawa’s sick day

One-shot | Masterlist

Pairing: Aizawa × Reader | Word count: 2,5k

Fandom: BNHA | MHA | Tags: fluffy, reverse comfort, home life, romance, SFW

CW: Sickness, of course (nothing too disturbing). Also: stable relationship, cheesy stuff, married couple dynamic, playful threats and teases. Readers' gender and appearance are not described, but there is a mention of reader being a "wife".

Notes: I've been working a lot lately, and I managed to get myself sick. I went to the EM two times now, and I just got some palliative medicine that didn't do much to the overall issue. I'm still sick. But I'm better than before and will be returning to work tomorrow (I can't afford absence anymore, unfortunately). But that's it.

I hate being sick, as real life doesn't pause to let me rest. So, to help me unwind for a little bit, I wrote this piece to take the focus off my sickness and to flutter my chest by pretending to take care of, at least, a fictional character. I hope you'll enjoy it. Sorry if there's any spelling; it is late, I'm sleepy, and my eyes are burning. Take care, love yall.

08:44 pm

"I'm home." The tired man called as he opened the door and took off his shoes. It has been a long day at work, and Shōta is more than exhausted. Slowly, he made his way down the hall to put the rest of his stuff away and grab a quick shower before dinner.

After taking note that you were not in the living room nor the kitchen, he reached your shared bedroom and pushed the door open, where he met with a smile that caused him to relax instantly after stepping inside.

"Oh! Hey, hun! Welcome back!" You greeted as you folded another piece of laundry, which was still warm from the dryer. Neat piles lined up on the king-sized bed.

"Hey." He replied quietly before walking over to you and pecking your lips. It had been rough lately, and every time he got home late from work, you noticed how increasingly tense he seemed as the days passed. 

"I thought you would be home early today." You commented. "Where were you? I was worried."

He sat on the bed next to where you stood, watching as you folded another shirt. Then, he sighed, rubbing his sore eyes as he rested his other hand on his knee.

"I was supposed to, but they needed me for a meeting and kept me late. Sorry I didn't text you." He explains, feeling a slight guilt sting in his chest as he glances at the clothes on the bed. You had to do his chores again. 

"I see." You respond quietly, with no resentment in your voice at all. "It's fine. But it is also late, so you should get ready for dinner." You instructed. 

Aizawa nodded and stood up before heading into the bathroom to shower, coming back moments later looking entirely drowsy.

"You look so exhausted." Your worried words pull Shōta from his sleepy state, the bed now looking pretty free from the clothes as you put the last pile into a drawer. "Didn't take proper care of yourself today, did you?" You questioned. "Did you eat anything besides applesauce?"

His eyebrows knitted together as he looked at you. You know he hates when you call him out like this. But you are right. Today was rough. "Yeah, yes, I know. Sorry. I promise I'll get better." His soft tone had you smiling. 

"No need to apologize, baby. I was just worried, that is all." You reassured as you walked toward him, snaking your arms around his waist and holding on tight, pulling him closer against your body. "You okay?" You asked quietly.

"Yeah." He nuzzled your neck. "Just tired." He explained, and you gently ran your hand up and down his back.

The two of you stayed embraced for a few seconds, pulling apart only after your stomach let out its demands, prompting you both to chuckle lightly. 

"Sorry, I have not eaten yet." You apologized before inviting him to the dining room, dragging his willing self by the hand.

As he followed behind, you heard him scolding you for your behavior. "I told you to stop waiting for me to have dinner when I do not get home until seven."

You rolled your eyes playfully as you turned the corner. "Sorry, I guess I forgot." You replied as you walked into the kitchen. "And besides, I did not have the appetite to eat alone anyway."

That earned you a soft laugh from the man who walked into the kitchen soon after you, helping you bring the food to the dining table afterward.

And, as you made yourselves comfortable, you two started eating. Small talk filled the air as you avoided both talking about work or the things that could be troubling your husband since dinner was not time for stress.

And this goes both ways, as Shōta knows that this small amount of time after he arrives is all he has with you since he needs to leave for work again before you even wake up the next day. 

Not long after, however, you can not help but notice how the dark circles under his eyes looked more purple than you ever saw, and his movements seemed a lot slower than what you were used to;

It worried you. Even though you know the hero and teaching work are naturally wearing, despite his tiredness, he always afforded to act, at least around you, not so worn out.

He had not been sleeping well recently, and you wanted to do something about it; but now was not the time, so you decided against mentioning it to him right now, as you knew it would bother him even further.

But he noticed you staring anyway, and his gaze drifted toward your lips, then back to your eyes. He raised a brow.

"Are you gonna finish those?" You asked, motioning to his half-eaten meal, which he absently turned over repetitively with his utensils. He shrugged. "Maybe later tonight?"

You nodded once in understanding and returned your attention to your plate. "Okay," you said.

He then went back into playing with his food in silence, which you did not mind. You know he was not hungry anymore but was making time to give you company as you finished your meal anyways. 

Once you finished, he rinsed the dishes while you dried them, setting them aside. Then, Shōta followed you back into the living room, where he plopped down on the couch.

Before long, you were cuddling together as something mindless passed on the TV screen. And, at some point during the movie, you began yawning, slowly lulling your head onto the shoulder of your partner, while his head would eventually fall forward as sleep threatened to grab hold of either of you.

So, reluctantly you sat up, stretching your back before turning to face Shōta. "Should we head to bed? Or do you want us to stay up here a while longer?" You asked, leaning in slightly, resting a hand on his leg.

He shook his head. "I think it's time for bed."

You nodded and stood up first, extending your hand toward him to help him stand up too. And, with his hand intertwined with yours, you led him back to the bedroom – where he went straight to lie on the bed.

After you were both settled, you wrapped an arm around his torso, nuzzling your head into his chest as he reciprocated the embrace, snuggling closer. Then, he placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

02:51 am

You woke up feeling hot. Well, hot enough for someone who does not bother regard to temperature. It is a bit unusual, and usually, you do not even realize the temperature change when asleep. 

You shifted in the grasp of your husband, turning over to your side as you tried, in vain, to cool down before realizing that the overheating you felt was radiating from the man you tangled with to sleep.

A frown immediately appeared on your face while moving your hand to place it over his forehead. Perhaps he was feverish?

Hmm, maybe. You could not tell for sure, but the skin felt a lot warmer to your touch. It did not feel right. So, carefully extracting yourself from the embrace, you walked to the closet and retrieved a thermometer, which you then returned and inserted into his mouth before sitting on the edge of the bed with him.

After a moment, the beeping of the device signaled that it finished testing; you watched as he started waking up a little after you took it out, his eyes fluttering open and landing upon the sight of you – sitting on the bed beside him, watching him cautiously. 

He blinked, slowly bringing his hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "Hey." He greeted, his voice hoarse. 

You gave him a gentle smile. "Hey." You replied, and he glanced back up at you.

"What are you doing?" He asks, squinting slightly in the darkness as if trying his best to decipher your features.

"Doing a little research." You responded. "Feeling alright? No headache?"

He furrowed his brows together. "No, why? Should I?"

You shake your head. "Probably not. But just making sure, you are running a fever, sweetheart."  You explained softly, reaching your hand out to grab his. "Come on, let us get you into a cool shower, and then you can rest a little longer, okay?"

He did not argue or question you, even though he seemed reluctant. Instead, he nodded and complied, rising from the bed, taking the offered hand, and following you into the bathroom.

While you reached the bathtub to turn the water on, Shōta quietly took his shirt off, discarding it into the hamper next to the sink. 

After you turned around, your gaze fell upon his toned muscles for half a second before landing on his face. His hair was sticking up every which way thanks to the ruffling from sleep, his bangs covering half his face and hiding the dark bags beneath his eyes. He looked exhausted as ever, yet also adorable somehow. However, the more you looked, the more you could tell he was getting sick. 

Sighing, you pulled your fingers through your hair, continuing to examine his appearance. You had never seen him sick, nor had you seen him look this exhausted in all the years you were together. 

Shōta turned around, noticing you observing his appearance, and raised an eyebrow. "What? Are you worried?" He questioned.

"Well, yes." You answered, still analyzing him.

His lips stretched into a faint smile as he approached you, cupping your cheek with his hand as he peered down at you, giving you an amused expression. "Why?" 

"You have been running yourself ragged lately." You answered, leaning into his palm. "And I never saw you sick before. I am worried because, especially now, you can not afford to be weak."

He sighed before pulling you close, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead, and placing one last soft kiss on the tip of your nose. "Don't worry. I promise I will be fine." He assured.

"Promise?" You repeated skeptically, staring deep into his eyes, and he chuckled. "Cross my heart."

"Mhm..." you hummed. "I will only believe that if you don't overexert yourself. If you keep worrying me like this, you will become bedridden sooner than you wish."

This time his chuckle was not quiet, and you could hear the whizzing in his chest. "Now, aren't you a good wife?" He teased.

You scoffed at that remark. "Of course I am. I am making sure you do not work yourself till you drop sick!" You retorted.

He gave you a smug grin. "Is that so?" He asked, tilting his head a little. "How mean."

You rolled your eyes in response before staring straight back at him. "But I am serious, Shōta."

"Then I will stop stressing myself and make a good impression on you." He declared, and his playful grin widened, making you chuckle. 

"Yeah, that is what I want. Now go wash off the sweat. I will fix you a cup of tea and bring it up. Alright?"

He smiled again, nodding. "Alright."

And as you made your way toward the kitchen, you wondered how you managed to fall for such a selfless bastard.

But you were not complaining.

03:12 am

Aizawa was still immersed in the bathtub when you returned with a glass in hand and medicine in the other. Then, after he emerged his hands from the water, you handed him one of each before leaning down to sit over your forelegs while resting your arms against the edge of the tub.

You watched as he gulped the medicine down with a generous sip of cold tea.

"How do you feel?" You quietly asked as he pulled the glass away from his lips. 

He merely gave you a small smile. "Not bad." He replied, his tone sounding slightly less hoarse now that he had drunk the tea. "I don't feel any different than usual. Just tired."

"Okay." You murmured, your eyebrows creasing together a little. "If it gets worse tomorrow, I will take you straight home from work, alright!?"

He nodded. "Okay."

"And I will ask Hizashi to check up on you since I know you won't tell me if it gets worse, after all."

He smirked a little at this, snickering. "That is true. But asking Mic to do that is not necessary." He paused, glancing at you before giving you a soft, small smile.

"Oh, yeah?" You asked.

Shōta nodded. "Yes. If it gets a lot worse, I will call you. I don't want to trouble any more people nor make you worry unnecessarily."

Your eyes softened at that. You know how Shōta hated burdening someone else, even though it would never feel like that to you. But he was willing to set his stubbornness aside for your sake. It flattered you a little, and you could not help but smile. 

"Okay, good... so, since you are telling me that, I will try not to worry too much then." You said. He returned your smile with a faint yet truthful one.

"Thank you, though."

"For what?" You inquired in curiosity. 

"Being so attentive like that." He said. "I appreciate it."

A faint blush formed on your cheeks as your eyes widened just a tiny bit. Then, the smile returned to your lips. "No problem, Sho. I care for you. And I love seeing you well."

His eyes softened at your words. "I know you do." He agreed quietly before opening his mouth to speak again but was cut short by a yawn escaping his lips.

"There you go again, falling asleep without meaning for it at all." You chuckled. Then, you reached forward and brushed the stray hairs from his forehead before letting your hand fall back onto the rim of the tub; while watching him intently for a moment. He smiled at you again. 

After a few moments of silence, his face finally showed some signs of discomfort, and you frowned slightly. "Are you uncomfortable? Do you need me t-"

"It’s fine." He insisted, cutting you off, before taking your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, effectively stopping you from finishing that sentence. "Just tired. It happens sometimes."

"Oh." You breathed, taking in what he said before sighing softly, slowly beginning to rise back to your feet. "Okay, then. I will grab some clean clothes for you now. Take your time resting up. If you need anything, ask me, alright?"

He smiled gratefully at you. "Okay, thanks, babe."

Your heart clenched at the sound of him saying those precious words; they meant everything to you. They always would. He knew how important they were; and how much you cherished them. 

Because, despite his cold surface, he never failed to make you feel loved and appreciated.

So you hoped you would never fail at that too.

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! Check the fixed post for requests.

#aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #bnha aizawa #my hero academia aizawa #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #bnha fanfiction #bnha headcannons #mr aizawa #aizawa shōta #aizawa sensei #aizawa shouta #aizawa fluff #shoto aizawa #aizawa headcanons #reverse comfort #boku no hero x reader #bnha #my hero acedamia

[caarpenters]

POISON

amber freeman x reader based on this request.

summary: the only one that can have you is amber.

rating: mature so minors DNI. beneath the cut there is unhealthy relationship dynamics, possessive behavior, and jealousy-fueled murder.

word count: 1,188 words

© caarpenters 2023

Wes Hicks vexed Amber Freeman more than she cared to admit. Not because of his borderline concerning level of paranoia. Not because of his deep-seated motherly issues. Not because of his horridly box-dyed blonde hair. Not even because of his deep attachment to her friend, Tara Carpenter. No, her vexation toward Wes could be traced back to one thing and one thing only: you, Y/N L/N. As of late, Wes had grown close to you, too close. He trailed after you like a dog with a bone, happily taking any scrap of attention you threw his way. For a time, his antics had been annoying, nothing more. Eventually, though, you began to inadvertently entertain those antics, to entertain him under the belief that he treated you the same way he did the rest of your friend group. You seemingly did not notice that the only friend he walked to and from class was you. You did not notice how whenever he stole a hug, he lingered just a moment too long, soaking in your warmth and taking in your all too sweet smell through his nostrils. Amber noticed, though. She noticed it all, and it sparked an anger within her that she had not known herself capable of. 

Because you were hers. You had always been hers. Her friend, her steadying force, her person. You were the first person she had met when her family moved to Woodsboro all those years ago. She had been out playing in her yard, messing around with her collection of Chucky dolls, when you had ridden up on your rickety old bike and offered her the brightest smile she had ever seen, a smile that had rivaled the sun in intensity. You had asked to play with her Tiffany doll, the bride of Chucky, and that alone had been enough for her to know in her bones that you two were well-suited. Most children your age had frowned upon the dolls, deeming them creepy, but not you. You adored them, treating them with as much care as Barbie dolls or action figures were treated. 

From that day, you and Amber had been thick as thieves, being one half of the other, which was why she could not tolerate Wes trying to weasel his way between the two of you. How would she handle him? Well, a more sane person would have likely come off with a lie, would have spread gossip meant to sully his name and ruin your perception of him.  You were so good, though, so forgiving, so mere gossip would not be enough. Perhaps that was why when Richie Kirsch proposed a dark, blood-bathed plan to recreate the 1990s Woodsboro killings, she agreed without hesitation or regret. If pushed for her motive, she would without a doubt chalk it up to her love of the Stab franchise. She knew it is not that simple, though, for when Richie proposed his list of victims, she wasted no time in adding Wes to the list. C'mon, Richie. It'll add shock value. He's the son of a legacy character, after all, she had pointed out, even though Judy Hicks could hardly be considered as such. She had, in Amber's opinion, contributed little, the same way that her son had. Richie had thought her important, though, for he had agreed and added him to the list of victims.

That was why now, Amber waited outside of the Hicks residence, donning the typical Ghostface costume. The black material of the robe felt hot against her skin, itchy, but the knife felt right in her hand, its hold so comfortable that it felt as though it was made for her. From the shadows of the porch, she waited, anticipation strumming wildly through her veins. Richie was on the phone now, no doubt, luring Judy back to the house. She could put up a fight, could try her best to preserve her son’s life force, but her efforts would be for naught; her son had sealed his own fate when he had tried to take you, to steal you from Amber. Did he really think that she would sit idly by and let it happen? No, it was not in her nature to do so. To take such a profound loss sitting down was weak, and she was not weak, not when it came to you.

When Judy pulled into the driveway and ran up to the front door, her face a storm of fear, Amber jumped out, emerging from the shadows like a harbinger of death. And oh, what a perfect harbinger she was, for she mercilessly stabbed Judy, delivering upon her one devastating slash after the other. It was a wonder that she had ever become the sheriff of Woodsboro, because she went down easy, so easy. 

Her son went down even easier.

After slaying Judy, Amber left her lying there in a river of her own blood to be found. That was exactly what Wes did, for as if sensing something was amiss, he pulled open the front door of the house and was met by a most horrid sight: the lifeless, cut-up body of the woman who had given him life, who had cared for him when no one else had. Unbidden, a grief-stricken cry tore its way out of his throat as he threw the door closed, trying to prevent the killer from getting in. Little did he know that Amber was already in the house, watching him, waiting. He leant against the doorframe, wheezing from a mixture of pain and fear. “Oh, God. Oh, God,” became a litany, the only words he seemed capable of . . . until Amber came out, her knife poised, aiming for his neck. In an act of pure desperation, his hands flew out, catching hold of the knife before it could make contact with his neck. “Fuck you,” he gasped as they struggled, fighting for control of the knife. He was distressed, willing to do whatever it took to survive, but she – she was incensed, rage incarnate. Months of pent-up vexation and jealousy came out, giving her the strength to win, to gain back control. This saw the knife plunging into his neck, immediately stealing away his breath and drawing out his scarlet blood. “No, fuck you,” she snapped, her tones cold as ice. The voice, it was her own, not that of Ghostface. “Now, die like the pussy you are.”

And he did . . . It was oh so satisfying to Amber.

Wes’ death seemed to hit you hard, to cause great pain to overcome you, which was why Amber stayed loyally by your side, doing everything she could to ensure that you were okay, that her actions did not break you. Little did she know that you took notice whenever she snuck away, believing herself to be discreet. You knew what she had done, but could not bring yourself to care all that much. Wes held no true place in your heart, after all, not the way that she did. And, perhaps, deep down, you knew that his murder, unlike the others, had been personal . . .

i HC amber as a child's play stan. idk why, it just makes sense, so here's a bonus fact: one year, for halloween, y/n and amber wear matching chucky and tiffany costumes. you can decide who wears which.

ALSO i know richie killed wes, but i changed it for the sake of this one-shot.

sign-off template.

#scream #scream fic #scream fanfic #scream franchise #scream movie #scream 5 #ghostface #ghostface x reader #amber freeman #amber freeman fanfic #amber freeman x reader #wes hicks #amber slaying (literally)

[sarahpaulsonsoftie]

Spoiled milk

A/N: Hey guys, pre warning, this fic mentions parental issues, parent with addiction, death, grief.

This fic is completely unedited and was comoketely rushed but i had an idea and i had to write as fast it urgently. In the future, i will probably rewrite and republish but so far here is the fic, in its barest form. I do hope you at least get some enjoyment from it.

-

Melissa Schemmenti X reader.

Spoiled Milk

*

It’s 3am when you get the call. You’re laying next to a sleeping Melissa when your phones vibrations wake you from your slumber. Melissa is still out cold, so you carefully pick up your phone and see your aunt’s name on your phone screen. You pick up the call, moving out of the bed and walking out of the bedroom when you hear your aunts’ soft cries.

“Hello?” You say, hearing the tiredness from your own voice. Your Aunt sniffles down the phone.

“Y/N, your mum—She- She passed an hour ago. I’m so so sorry, sweetheart.” Your Aunt, Carol, says. You nearly drop the phone out of surprise, immediately more alert from your previous sleepiness.

“How?” You manage to whisper out, you hear your aunt sniffle once more. Your heart aches at her pain, even more than hearing the news of hearing about your own mother’s passing. You walk downstairs to Melissa’s kitchen, sitting down at the kitchen island.

“She- She…” Your aunt trails off and you don’t say anything except breath down the phone. Your aunt clears her throat. “It was an overdose.” Your aunt manages to murmur, and your eyes flutter closed as you breathe in.

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Your aunt asks, and you notice a slight tremor to your hand as you rub your eyes.

“Yeah, I heard you, Carol. I just- Why- I thought- I thought she was getting clean.” You whisper, aware there is still a sleeping Melissa upstairs. You haven’t quite processed the news yet and, but your heart still aches as the pain in your aunt’s voice.

“I thought so too, sweetheart but she.. You know- Knew your mother. She always relapses- relapsed.” Hearing your aunts corrections about your mother brings the harsh reality that your mother, the only mother you had -albeit not perfect in any way- is dead.

“I- uh. Auntie, I must go. Please call me in the morning when uh.” You don’t know what to say and you feel your eyes growing wet.

“Of course, sweetheart. I love you, and your mum, she loved you too, in her own messed up way.” Your aunt states, before ending the call.

You sit at the kitchen counter for a moment before messaging Melissa that you couldn’t sleep and decide to head home to get a couple of hours in before school.

-

You don’t head home, you drive around in your car for a while before pulling out your phone. You notice a message from Ava. You click on it and see her online still. You check the time. 04:06. You sigh, before reading the message Ava has sent

‘Why are you online so late?’ The message reads, you feel your eyes brim again before you tell Ava the truth and ask her not to say anything to anyone. Ava reads the message almost immediately.

‘I won’t. I’m sorry you’re going through this. You can take tomorrow off if you need.”

The response surprises you, Ava never struck you as someone who would be so willing to accommodate staff in that way. You stare at the message for a while before typing your response.

‘It’s fine. I’ll be in tomorrow.’

-

You poured spoiled milk into your coffee. It’s lunch time at Abbot, you don’t remember the events from the morning, other than Melissa asking you if you slept any better at yours. You nodded with a fake smile, and she brought you in for a quick, secretive kiss.

But right now, all you know is that you poured spoiled milk into your coffee. The staff room is too loud from chatter that you can’t concentrate to. And you poured spoiled milk into your coffee.

You hear the staff room door open, and someone walk in, but all you can do is stare at the curdling milk that is in the coffee that you wouldn’t even need if you’d got some sleep last night, instead of driving around town, trying to distract yourself.

You hear someone say your name and you don’t look up because there is spoiled milk in your fucking coffee.

“Y/N!” You hear Melissa’s voice, and you look up to see her and Barb beginning to sit at their usual table.

“Yeah?” You ask, throwing another glance towards your coffee cup. You hear the staff room door open again and walks in is Ava, Jacob, and Janine. Ava spares you a glance of sympathy.

“What’s up with you? Tired or somethin’?” Melissa asks and you breathe in to try to calm yourself.

“I poured spoiled milk into my coffee.” You say, and you realize how stupid it sounds out loud, but if they knew the story behind it. Ava watches you with a look of uncertainty, and Melissa looks slightly confused but she doesn’t respond to you.

“Come on, Y/N. No point in crying over spoiled milk.” Jacob laughs, and you raise your eyes to him as you clench your fists lightly. Ava steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N, Girl, if you wanna take a few personal days, you can.” Ava states, almost lightly pushing you back, and for some reason this makes you even angrier. Your mum and you didn’t have a good relationship, you’re not upset about that. You’re angry because you poured spoiled milk into your coffee.

Jacobs seems to retreat to the couch, Janine following quickly. You don’t miss the questioning glance that Barb and Melissa throw you. They know this isn’t like you and Melissa quickly draws it up to your tiredness.

“I don’t need a few personal days, Ava. What I need is someone to put the f—” You don’t manage to finish your sentence before Ava’s hands are pulling you out of the staff room and into the hallway.

“I think you should come to my office, girl. You’re acting like 2008 Brittany.” She says and it’s all you need to hear before you’re following her down the hall down the office.

She sits in her chair, and you allow yourself to sit too.

“Someone left spoiled fucking milk in the fridge, and I poured it into my coffee!” You shout, and Ava put both her hands up in defense.

“Girl, you, and I both know this ain’t about no spoiled milk. Right now, as your boss, which I apparently need to be when you’re acting like this, I am telling you to take a few personal days.” Ava states calmly, all of her usual sass gone. She’s being reasonable, something you’re not used to.

“Your mum died. You need to deal with that. Go to the funeral and then come back to work, when you’ve had actual time to go to the funeral.” Ava says and you shake your head.

“I can’t go to the funeral.” You say, and Ava stands, moving closer to you.

“Why?” she asks, and you look up at her, finally accepting that maybe this isn’t about spoiled milk.

“My stepdad... He doesn’t want me to go cause my mum stopped talking to me before she died.” You say, and it finally hits you that your imperfect mother has passed. “My aunt told me this morning; told me she’d fight it. I told her not to bother. My mum and I didn’t get along.” You say and Ava steps closer bringing you into a hug.

Your eyes water and you accept her hug, before sniffling into her shoulder. You pull back and Ava looks up at you.

“So you’ll take the personal days?” Ava asks and you nod lightly. “Good. Also, in any other circumstances, if you sniffle on me, I will push you to the ground.”

You manage to crack a smile at that.

-

After leaving school early, you crash on your bed. You wake hours after school has finished and check your phone to see you have 5 messages from Melissa. The woman who you had a friend with benefits relationship. The woman who would only kiss you in private. The woman who would not let it be known you two were seeing each other, to anyone other than Barb.

You unlock your phone and click on the messages.

‘you ok?’ 12:47pm

‘Y/N?’ 12:51pm

‘you’re seriously taking a few personal days off over spoiled milk?’ 1:32pm

‘glad your personal day is going good, while the rest of us are suffering with your trying to balance your work load’ 1:57pm

‘ignore me then, Y/N. You’re acting like a child’ 4:37pm.

You look at the messages and check the time. 9:30pm. You knew Melissa would still be awake so you begin to try and type an explanation, before realizing that Melissa wouldn’t care. So, instead you type out,

‘I’m Sorry.’ 9:34pm, Melissa reads the message almost instantly and begins to type her own message.

‘You know, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to make things official but after today, I see how immature and selfish you are. So, don’t contact me again.’ 9:35pm

-

Two days pass and it’s Thursday. Ava has been messaging you to check in but you’ve been holed up in your apartment, not sleeping, not eating and holding yourself in foetal position for most of the time.

‘Hey, gonna need tomorrow off as well please. Funeral day is today and although I’m not there, I kinda just wanna process that shes now officially gone’ 12:20pm

Ava views the message almost instantly and takes and agonising time to respond.

‘take all the time you need, girl.’ 12:47pm

-

It was lunch time at Abbot elementary school, and the staff were all eating their lunch, making their coffees, and having distinctive chatter.

“When do you think Y/N’s gonna be back?” Janine finally has the courage to ask and almost all eyes on her, and Melissa looks up.

“Don’t care.” She grumbles. Barbara furrows her brows at her friend before looking towards Janine.

“I don’t know. But I do know that God sometimes gives us battles to not only test us, but the people around us.” She states, giving a kind smile to Janine. Melissa rolls her eyes and Barbara can’t help the glare that forms.

“She seemed really out of it when she was last in, and then super angry.” Jacob states, looking towards Janine.

“She told me she didn’t sleep well the night before, kinda shrugged it off. Didn’t expect her to take a few personal days because of spoiled milk.” Melissa all but growls, and shrugs lightly, “Anyway, I messaged her and gave her a piece of my mind. All she said was sorry so she probably doesn’t wanna face the fact she took a personal day over spoiled milk.”

Barbara looks at her friend and the looks around the staff room at all of the staff who are either nodding in agreement or pretended not to be part of the conversation. She might have expected the judgement from the other staff but not Melissa, the woman who had confessed to her that she had fallen in love with you.

“You all cannot seriously believe this is just about spoiled milk.” Barbara states in disbelief. Eyes shoot up to look at her, and Janine locks eyes with her before looking down ashamed.

At 12:17pm, Ava waltzes into the staff room and notices the tension but doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t care enough about these people to get involved.

It isn’t until her phone vibrates at 12:20pm and she looks down to her phone, seeing your message.

Barbara notices the look of sympathy on Ava’s face that she asks.

“Was that Y/N?” Is her question and Ava looks up at her. She pours herself a cup of coffee, adding an ungodly amount of sugar before answering.

“She won’t be back this week.” Is all Ava says before trying to leave.

“Over spilled milk? Jesus Christ, that girl needsa reality check.” Melissa states and Ava whips her head around.

“Girl, don’t act all stupid and pretend this is about spoiled milk.” Ava says, and glares at Melissa.

“So, you admit it’s not about spoiled milk?” Barbara asks, and Ava sighs nodding slowly.

“She didn’t want me to say anything but the way you all been bad mouthing that girl, I think you deserve to feel guilty.” Ava says and looks around the room, her gaze lingering on Melissa.

“What do you mean? Whats wrong with Y/N?” Janine asks, and Ava pulls out her phone showing the message to Barbara. All the staff in the room watch as Barbara’s face contorts to sympathy.

“Who?” Barbara asks sadly, and Ava looks at her, beginning to leave the room.

“Her mother.” Ava says before leaving and responding to your message.

“Barb?” Melissa questions, trying to grab her attention.

“I told you! I told you not to message that girl those horrible things and now you have absolutely no idea what you have done.” Barb says, her voice raising with every word.

“What happened?” Janine asks and Barb look towards her.

“Her mother died. I imagine she found out the day she was ‘crying over spoiled milk’” Barbara states, her glare increasing on Jacob who visibly shrinks under her gaze. “Now if you excuse me, I am going to call that girl and check she is okay.”

Barbara leaves the room but not before throwing one last glare to Melissa.

-

At 1:03pm you get a call from Barbra, which throws you off. You answer the call and immediately, Barbara is asking you how you are, who you’re with, if you’ve eaten.

You answer her questions truthfully, and she sighs down the phone.

“Please tell me if you need anything, Y/N. Do not hesitate.”

You’re confused but decided to ignore it and try to get some more sleep.

-

At 8:07pm you receive a message from Melissa.

‘Open the door’

You swallow the lump in your throat and head to your door and open it. On the other side, you see a distressed Melissa, with red bloodshot eyes and messy hair. You’re sure you don’t look any better.

You nod for her to come in and neither of you say anything, you just stare at each other. Melissa’s hands reach out to touch yours and you step back.

Her face is full of hurt as she looks down at her feet. “I’m sorry about your mum”. She says, not meeting your eyes.

“Who told you?” You choke on the words and find yourself bringing your hands to your face in shame.

“Ava.” She says. “Well Barbara, Ava showed her the message you sent, Barbara told us all off for acting the way we did.”

You remove your hands from your face and lock eyes with Melissa.

“Told you off.. for acting the way you did?” You question, and Melissa nods slowly. “Not just you?” She shakes her head shamefully at the question. You look at her in disbelief. “So wait, you all thought I’m the type of person to take off personal days for No reason?”

Melissa looks at you and opens her mouth to speak. “You all thought I am the type of person to just leave you with my workload for no reason?” You reiterate and Melissa looks away from you and nods slowly. “Even you?” You ask, and you move you hands to her face and lightly force her to look at you.

“I didn’t know what to think, Y/N! I thought at first, you were just tired, then I thought you didn’t wanna be with me anymore, and then I thought you were sleeping with Ava.” She admits and you laugh humourlessly, removing you hands from your face.

“You know what? I wish I was sleeping with Ava instead of you! She was the only who reached out when she saw me online, she was the first one to tell me to take the personal days, and then she forced me to take the personal days.” You shout and Melissa says nothing, just watching.

“My mother died, Melissa! I’m sorry I gave you guys my workload! I’m sorry I needed time off! I’m especially sorry that I fell in love with you!” You rant and Melissa seems to react to this, her hands reaching out towards you.

“You’re in love with me?” She asks, and you step back, staring at her.

“Wait hang on, you didn’t know that?” You seem to calm. Looking at her, you see her eyes brim with tears.

“No, I didn’t. I thought it was just sex for you, and that’s why I got so defensive and angry at you and I should have just came here in the first place, instead of being so cruel to you.” She confesses and you don’t say anything, instead you walk out of the hallway and sit down on your couch. Melissa follows and stands in front of you.

“I wouldn’t have told you.” You whisper, eyes brimming. Melissa sits next to you, and she doesn’t say anything. “I wouldn’t have told you.” You repeat.

“I understand why.” She states, and her hands make their way to your head, and she begins to play with your hair.

“No. It’s… My mum and I didn’t have a good relationship. She was an addict. We hadn’t spoken for a while before she passed. My stepdad didn’t let me go to the funeral and uh, I guess I realised that although I didn’t like her, I loved her a lot cause she was my mum, you know? And in all the bad shit she did, she was still my mum.” You say and Melissa’s hand come to a pause, and she readjusts so she’s looking at you.

“Loss is still Loss, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry I didn’t see that there was so much more going on.” She says and you don’t say anything, except pull her in for a kiss. She stops the kiss and looks at you. “As much as I wanna kiss you, I also wanna just take care of you. I meant what I said about wanting to making things official. Didn’t mean the things I said before that though.” She says and you nod.

Melissa pulls you in for a hug and you almost cry when she begins to rub your back.

You weren’t just upset over spoiled milk. Melissa knows that now.

-Fin.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti imagine #melissa schemmenti x reader #x reader #abbot elementary

[yeollie-plz]

Hello! I'm a new follower and I love you're writing! I was wondering if you could do a fiction of Andrew Garfield x reader? I'll leave the scenario up to you :)

Not Exactly As Planned

Andrew Garfield x GN! Reader

Synopsis: Andrew has been acting suspicious lately and you've all but convinced yourself that he's cheating.

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: mentions of cheating, insecurities, Y/N insert

Gif credits to owners!

"I'm telling you, Andrew has been acting strangely lately." Your best friend raised her eyes at you in an accusatory gesture. "Stranger than usual..." You trailed off, returning her look with an annoyance laced one of your own.

"I'm just nervous...you know?" You let your eyes wander to the cup sat in front of you. It's once sugary taste now bitter to you with the revelation of your confession.

Your best friend sat her own cup down, "So what? You think he's lying to you? Cheating on you?"

"I don't know, but its hard not to rush to the worst conclusion."

"Blah, blah, blah, you have trust issues. I know! But trust me that man would rather sit on a hot iron before ever hurting you!"

You rolled your eyes, "You're right..."

"Yeah, I know I'm right. Now finish your drink so we can go, the guy I went on a date with last weekend is right there." She rushed from her seat and dragged you up with her. You struggled to finish the sip you were taking as she jostled you up to your feet.

As you two walked away, you spoke up again. "'Sit on a hot iron?'" You turned to her so you could read her expression.

"Hey! I never said I was good at metaphors. Only relationship advice!"

"If only you could apply your advice to your own love life." You said pointedly.

"Hey!"

Later that night, you were sat on your couch watching tv, alone. Andrew had yet to come home. You were worried of course, but that worry soon warped itself into a different kind of worry. You were once again worried about your relationship.

Although your friend had attempted to help you push away those negative thoughts, they began to creep in once again. Then crept in the insecurities. And now you were no longer focused on what was playing on the television.

It wouldn't hurt if you just snooped around a bit, would it? I mean it was your apartment too. A quick peak wouldn't do any harm, you concluded, and lifted yourself from the couch.

Moving towards your bedroom, your heart began to beat faster. Not sure if you would find something or get caught. But you pushed the fear aside and walked to Andrew's nightstand.

You pulled out the top drawer, seeing only a few pictures, a book, and some other random items. Pulling out the bottom drawer, you lifted up a few papers to peak further in. Only to find nothing but more papers. One day he'd have to organize all of this, you shook your head, and lifted yourself back up to your feet.

You sighed, now you had to face the closet. You had a feeling you'd find nothing in the nightstand, but somehow knew the closet would be a different story.

You began to shuffle through his side of the closet. Moving things aside to get a better look. You even dug through his dirty to clothes to look for marks on his shirts or receipts in his pockets. Nothing!

You were about to give up when a box at the very top of the shelves caught your eye. Tilting your head, you had never noticed this box before. You decided that must have something in it.

So, you grabbed a chair from the kitchen, dragging it into the closet behind you. Pushing yourself onto it, you reached up to grab the box. You were just about to have it fully in a safe hold when Andrew walked into the doorway and startled you by asking what you were doing. Somewhere between you dragging the chair across the apartment and you dangerously balancing on top of it, Andrew had come home and heard you.

You jumped slightly, letting the box fall from your hands and almost falling off the chair. Andrew caught you by the waist and helped you stabilize yourself.

He laughed at your clumsiness, "What are you doing?" You looked around trying to find an excuse, he followed your frantic movements. Both of your eyes then landed on a small black box. He met your confused look with his scared one.

"This is not how this was supposed to happen." He concluded suddenly.

"What?" You were confused as you looked at the little box again. Oh. My. God. That was a ring box!

"Well I guess, since I probably can no longer surprise you with it." He moved to pick up the box, getting down to one knee. "Y/N, I love you so much. You are my soulmate. And this isn't exactly how I wanted to do this but in a way this is very us. So, Y/N will you be mine forever? Will you marry me?"

You nodded your head quickly, squeaking out a yes. He stood and pulled you into a hug. Tears began to fall from your eyes as he slid the ring onto your finger.

"I had this whole thing planned, I was going to take you to dinner. Walk along the river, to this beautiful candle lit stage." He hummed in thought.

"I thought you were cheating on me." You admitted.

"What?" He pulled away in shock, trying to read your eyes.

"Well, you were being suspicious and sneaking around and I just thought the worse. That's why I was snooping around."

"Oh goodness, love, I never meant to make you feel like that. I just really wanted to make it special for you." You shook your head, reaching your hand up to stroke his cheek.

"It's okay, I'm kind of in a just got engaged high now. Nothing can bring me down." Suddenly you pushed out of his arms and ran out of the closet.

Andrew called after you, "Where are you going?"

"To tell everyone!"

#andrew garfield #spiderman #spider man #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield fluff #andrew garfield angst #andrew garfield imagine #andrew garfield story #andrew garfield spiderman #amazing spiderman #tasm #tasm 2

[pensat-i-fet]

Too good for you (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**Welcome to an imagine that wasn’t requested but that was inspired by one of my dreams (but then I really only kept a tiny detail from the dream). This is a bit spicy, a bit angsty, also slightly toxic and everyone (but Kepa, who has a little cameo because the one in my dream was Juan Mata and how random is that?) is an asshole. But I think it’s fun! It was one of those where I let the story go where it wanted to go. I didn’t choose any of this. The story chose its own path and that’s cute. Enjoy! ❤️**

Word count: 4030

Masterlist

Wattpad

Another day, another photoshoot. But this one was pretty special. You had worked for Armani before, walking their show and doing some catalogue work for them. But this time it was a campaign they wanted you to be a part of and that was huge for your career. And the paycheck was going to be pretty decent too.

Also, you were shooting with a football player so you knew that your work was going to get a lot more exposure because of his presence. And it was a player you actually knew, which could make the shoot pretty interesting. Whether it’d be in a good or a bad way was to be determined.

"Come here for a sec so we can double-check it all fits nicely".

"Sure", you said, following the stylist. "Is the player here already?"

She looked at you with a knowing look. "No, he's a bit late. Traffic is pretty bad".

"Cool. We'll wait then".

Fittings were done quickly and so you moved to hair and makeup. The look was pretty natural so that was done quickly but with it being an underwear shoot, the makeup artists had to make sure to apply makeup all over your body. And it was while they did it that Rúben showed up.

"Hello everyone, sorry I'm late".

His voice made you look up from your phone. Rúben looked you up and down and for a second you felt a bit self-conscious standing in front of him, and a crew of 20 people, in just a thong and a bra. As if he hadn't seen you in less.

While he was getting ready for the shoot, you put on a robe and sat down next to him.

"I thought you wouldn't make it".

"Bad traffic. I wish I had gotten here early. I might have volunteered to do your body makeup".

"Of course you would have".

"Do you want to do mine?", he whispered.

"I want to be home before midnight so hurry up".

"By home, you mean your place or mine?"

Rolling your eyes, you got up to check if there was something nice you could eat. Catering at these shoots was usually pretty good if you got to the table before all the good food was taken and only the dry carrot sticks were left.

"You didn't tell me you knew him", said your agent.

"I don't know him. I know what's in his jeans. It's different".

"Is it going to be an issue?"

"Why should it be?"

"I don't want you to mess up this big opportunity. Who knows how your career could develop after this".

Yeah, and you want the commission that comes from big-money jobs like this one.

"I won't mess up".

"How did you even meet him? I thought your friend played for Chelsea".

"At a party. It doesn't matter".

Yes, your friend played for Chelsea. But he had nothing to do with you meeting Rúben. As you said, that happened at a party. You didn't even recognise him at first. You just noticed a hot guy approaching your friend group and decided to start dancing with him before Gina, who had been staring at him all night, could do it first. Your friend group also consisted of people you didn't like that much. It was a fashion industry thing.

"Do I look good?"

Rúben was now next to you, wearing the underwear picked for the first few photos you needed to take. And yeah, he looked alright.

"As if you need me to tell you how good you look. You already tell yourself every morning when you look in the mirror".

"Is being confident a sin?"

"No", you said, getting closer to him. "Being arrogant is".

"Then we're both sinners".

"Sinning can be fun".

"It's fun when I do it with you".

That last sentence was whispered in your ear and you had to try hard not to blush. So you left him to go get changed into your first outfit.

"Wow! You don't need me to tell you how good you look either but I will".

You turned your hips slightly, letting him see how good you really looked while you pretended to adjust your panties with one of your hands, making sure Rúben's eyes followed your movements. "I mean, anything is an improvement from the skin colour thong I had to wear for fittings and hair and make-up. Least sexy piece of underwear you'll ever see. This", you said, pointing at your current outfit, "is a lot better, right?"

The way Rúben stared at you gave you all the answers you needed. "Believe me, seeing you in your underwear is always a pleasure. No matter the colour or design. But this…", he was now touching the little piece of lace that adorned the sides of the panties you were wearing. "Can you keep the clothes you wear at shoots?"

"Not usually but I think with underwear is different so maybe I get lucky".

"I'm feeling very lucky at the moment", he muttered, still staring at the fabric he had touched.

The photographer interrupted the moment, asking you to actually do your job. How inconvenient. And so you and Rúben moved to the shooting area and listened to the ideas the photographer had for the shoot.

You had actually been excited to shoot with Rúben. First, because you thought his look complimented yours really well. Sometimes you were paired with male models that looked so odd next to you but you and Rúben looked great together. Then there was the fact that you already knew him, which meant you were a bit more comfortable doing a more intimate shoot like this one. And of course, you wanted to see him. He mentioned you texting him if you visited Manchester but you had been travelling a lot and didn't get to see him in person ever since that party in Lisbon.

You also expected your chemistry to be good. At the party, you two connected immediately and felt incredibly comfortable in each other's company the whole night. So this should have been the same. But Rúben seemed to be struggling a bit.

"What's wrong?", you asked him during a small break.

"Well, it's a bit challenging to be this close to you while you wear almost nothing, you know?"

"Control the hormones, Dias. You're acting like a horny 15-year-old. Though I guess men never get over that stage. At least not mentally".

The pieces from the collection were stunning but a few were very impractical. Putting them on felt like you were doing a puzzle. And you could only imagine how difficult it would be to take them off, especially in specific situations where you'd be in a hurry to get rid of the underwear. But they did look good.

"Can somebody help me?", you called and heard the curtain move just seconds later.

You didn't even turn, used to random people helping in those situations. "I can help with that".

"Rúben, you shouldn't…".

"Shh".

You could feel his finger untangling the straps and doing the clasps. But before you could turn to face him, he bent down to kiss the side of your neck. When his hands went to your hips, you forgot for a second where you were and just leaned back into his touch. But a noise made by the crew startled you and you separated from Rúben quickly.

"We're working. We can't…".

But he wasn't listening anymore. He just grabbed your face so he could kiss you and you barely allowed him to touch your lips.

"My makeup. How am I going to explain it being smudged?"

"Are you wearing any?"

"Are you serious? Of course I am".

He leaned forward, impossibly close to you, and stared at your eyes. It was hard to keep eye contact but you managed. He then moved to your lips and smiled. "Yeah, I guess I can see a bit of product there. But it can be reapplied, right?"

"Stop it", you said, pushing him away from you and leaving the changing area.

Yeah, you could understand now what he meant by the shoot being challenging. But you were professional and a couple of hours later, you heard the magical words it’s a wrap.

“Where are you staying?”

The voice startled you and you held onto the shirt you were buttoning up for dear life. “Rúben! You can’t come inside. I’m getting changed”.

“I just spent 3 hours with you by my side wearing the smallest underwear I’ve ever seen in my life”.

“Really? You need to go out more”.

He rolled his eyes, before staring at your bare legs. “Besides, I’ve already seen everything there was to see”.

“It doesn’t mean you can see it again”.

“Not even if I say please?”

This time, you let him get closer and kiss you. And of course, you left with him. Much better than going back to the hotel.

                                        **

Back in London, you continued working non-stop. The Armani campaign was about to be released and some other brands wanted to work with you before that.

And for the second time in a month, you got to work with someone you knew well. But this time it wasn’t Rúben, but your friend Andrea.

“I love your hair”, she said the moment she saw you.

“Thanks. I had to cut it for a job but I’m really into this style”.

“Looks amazing on you”.

Catalogue shooting wasn’t the most thrilling part of being a model but it was pretty simple. And the crew you were working with was always fun to be around. So when it was time for a break, you all ordered food and chatted about everything and nothing while eating.

“Are you free this weekend?”, asked Andrea while you were getting ready to carry on shooting.

“I think so. Why?”

“Kepa has this event and I can’t go so we thought you could go with him. It’d be good for networking and all that”.

You met Kepa after working with his wife Andrea and became really good friends with both of them. It wasn’t the first time he had invited you to an event but…it was usually events that Andrea was attending too.

“I don’t know if it’s the best idea. I’ll be there as what? Your husband’s companion? What if people start to make up rumours?”

“It doesn’t have to be weird. Plus, it’s a very informal event. There might not be any press there at all and there is no need to dress up. It’ll be fine”.

“I’ll think about it”.

And that you did. Andrea kept sending you info and it really was a great opportunity to network. Also, the topic for the event sounded very interesting so you really wanted to go.

That’s how you found yourself arriving at the venue with Kepa by your side.

“Are any of your teammates attending the event too?”

“Why? Are you interested in any of them?”

“Kepa…stop. We’ve had this conversation before and no, I don’t like any of your teammates. None of them is my type”.

“You’ll break their hearts”, he laughed.

Kepa was busy talking to some people he knew so you decided to walk around saying hello to everyone. And that was when you saw him.

“What are you doing here?”

Rúben turned when he heard your voice and a big smile appeared on his face when he saw you standing in front of him.

“I was invited to the event. You?”

“I’m here with my friend”.

The word friend made him frown. “Another model?”

“No. Actually, another footballer”.

Rúben started to look around until his eyes fell on Kepa, the only other player that was currently there. “Him?”

“Yes, he’s my friend. Any problems?”

“You can do better than him”.

You laughed, not believing what you were hearing. “He’s married to my friend. We’re just friends, you idiot”.

“Is she here too?”

“No, she’s busy today. That’s why I’m here”.

“Big boy Kepa can’t go to places alone? Does he need you to babysit him?”

“Have you always been an asshole or am I just noticing? Don’t speak like that about my friend”.

Spotting Kepa, you left Rúben standing alone, staring at you while you walked towards your friend. His eyes never stopped following you around the venue and you could tell. But you avoided him.

Rúben kept trying to get your attention but you pretended not to notice and it was driving him insane. So when it was just you and Kepa standing next to the food, he decided to go introduce himself.

“Hey there, mate. Nice seeing you here”.

Kepa stared at him. They had never interacted outside of the pitch. “Sure. This is my friend…”.

“I know who she is”.

Kepa looked at you, frowning. So you had to clarify the situation for him. “Rúben and I did a shoot together recently. You’ll see it soon”.

“Right”, laughed Kepa. “Well, good to see you too. We gotta go…”.

“Maybe we could chat for a second”, he said, looking at you.

“Maybe I want to go with Kepa instead of chatting”.

Kepa kept looking from you to Rúben and then back, not understanding anything that was happening but if you wanted to leave, he was going to help you.

“She’s right. We need to leave now before my wife gets back home”.

When Rúben saw Kepa grab your hand to lead you to the door, his jealousy grew even more. “You have to make sure you finish before she gets back?”

Hearing that, Kepa let go of your hand immediately and before he had time to say anything, you had already slapped Rúben’s face.

“Don’t you ever insinuate something like that about me”.

Kepa had two options. Following you or copying your actions and slapping Rúben too. But even if he would have loved to do the same as you, he chose to follow you since people were getting closer to see what was going on. And his team had enough dramas to worry about.

"What was that about?"

"I would like to know too".

"Did he bother you at that shoot? You could complain to the brand or something. And if he's harassing you…".

"Kepa, I appreciate you worrying but it's nothing like that. I…I met him at a party a while ago and we hooked up. And then we met at the shoot and hooked up again. But I don't know, he was acting like a jealous boyfriend or something. And saying that about us…who does he think he is?"

"You were right to slap him. I wish I could have done the same".

You shook your head. You weren't an aggressive person. Actually, you avoided conflicts as much as you could. But hearing Rúben say that was too much. You couldn't not react.

Kepa invited you to stay over for dinner and you were a bit wary to say yes until you saw Andrea was back. She was fuming when she heard what had happened.

"Well, the good thing is you don't have to see him again".

"Actually…", her words made you realise you had to see Rúben again. Very soon. "We need to do an event to promote the campaign. I can't say no, Andrea. It's the biggest job I've ever done".

"You have to go", said Kepa. "Don't let him affect your career. Just pose with him for the red carpet or whatever and then you can stay away from him".

"Yeah, I'll do that".

But it was easier said than done.

                                        **

Rúben had tried his hardest to apologize. He didn't even know what got into him to talk to you like that. Well, he knew. Jealousy. But what right did he have to be jealous?

Still, he apologized on social media and even sent flowers to your agency. But got no response from you.

"This is what he'll wear", said the stylist, bringing the suit Rúben would wear to the event. "So we have to pick something that goes well with it".

You tried ten different outfits and none pleased the Armani team. But then you spotted a little black dress that no one had looked at.

"Can't go wrong with an LBD, right?"

They turned to see you holding the dress and one of the stylists shrugged. "Might as well see how it looks on. With those long legs of yours, it should look fine".

So you tried it on and it fit like a glove. The exposed back and the length gave it the sexy touch the brand wanted. You were promoting underwear not coats. But the front was more conservative, so it was sexy but still classy.

They paired it with some black heels and someone put your hair up in a messy bun to see how the neckline looked. You looked absolutely perfect. And you couldn't help but smirk thinking how it was going to drive Rúben insane.

But the first person you saw at the event wasn't Rúben, it was Gina.

"Hiii! Oh my God, you look gorg!"

Her smile was so fake, you feared she would get a migraine from the pressure on her jaw.

"I know".

"And you got to work with that hottie you slept with that one time. Where is he? Still single, I guess".

"I guess. But he told me he doesn't like obnoxious blondes so maybe don't waste your time".

"You're always such a bitch!"

"Not always, Gina. You just bring out the worst in me. Such a talent!"

Everyone was getting ready for the red carpet and it was then that you finally saw Rúben. He stood next to you but didn't even acknowledge you. Was he for real?

Once on the red carpet, he turned quickly to look at you and placed his hand on the small of your back. Your bare back. It was easier for you to just smile at the camera even if you didn't feel like it but he managed to do it as well.

You kept turning to show your outfit, placing your hands on his arms, shoulders or even chest.

"Stop moving", he whispered. His hand never leaving your back.

"I'm just doing my job. But nice to know the cat didn't get your tongue. Or were you just waiting to talk until you could accuse me of being a homewrecker again?"

"I messed up and I tried to apologize".

"Try harder".

The photographers thanked you and you started to walk away from the carpet, knowing Rúben was right behind you. When you turned your head to see him, you could see the way he stared at your body. He noticed you looking at him so we walked faster to catch up with you.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say something like that. I don't even know why I did".

"It was a very disgusting thing to say about someone you barely know".

"Again, I'm sorry. Please, let's pretend it didn't happen".

"Hi! Ruben right?", hearing Gina's voice, you closed your eyes to try to get rid of any murderous feelings.

"Yeah. Do I know you?"

She was now looking at you. "Be nice and introduce your friend".

"Who's the friend? You?"

Her fake laugh made you cringe. "She's so funny. Hi! I'm Gina".

"Rúben. Are you a model too?"

Oh God… "No silly, but do you think I could be one?"

"She's just an influencer who follows anyone with over 10k followers on Instagram around. If you slept with her, the whole country would know before you even finish".

Seeing Rúben's face made you laugh. He looked so uncomfortable.

"We gotta go, G. Everyone wants to see the stars of the event".

"You're just the accessory. He is the star".

Now she was showing her true colours. "Better than being the one that got a pity invite".

After a couple of seconds, Rúben caught up again.

"Are you going to roast me too?"

"You would deserve it as much as she does. But if you want to be told how amazing you are, Gina will be here the whole night".

"I have to be with my fellow star".

"Not your accessory?"

"I don't think you'd ever allow anyone to treat you just like an accessory".

"No one should allow anyone to treat them like that".

The whole night you had to be paraded around telling people about the collection and just hearing over and over again how great the campaign was. You knew that already. The photos were everywhere you looked and they were terrific. You knew that photographer was good but seeing the results in front of you made you realise how truly lucky you were to work with her.

"Do you like them?"

"Yes. These will be on my showcard for fashion week for sure".

"What's that? The card, I mean. I know what fashion week is".

"It's this little card with a couple of photos and my measurements. I have to take them to castings to give to the casting directors so they have all my info if they decide to hire me for the job".

"Interesting".

"You could model when you retire from football, you know?"

Rúben raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. I feel ok taking my own photos but working with photographers is weird".

"They stop you from doing stupid poses so it might be weird but look at the result".

He would have said something about your insult but could just stare at your fingers drawing invisible lines over the photos. Your fingers moved along the lines his muscles created and you seemed hypnotized by what you were doing.

He leaned towards you so he could whisper in your ear. "You know you can touch the real me too if you want to, right?"

"And yet you only get to touch me in the photos".

"You sure?"

His hand was now back on the small of your back and he could see the goosebumps caused by his touch. After looking around to make sure no one was there, he leaned down to kiss your shoulder and you kept staring at the photos trying not to show a reaction to his touch. But also not moving away, craving more.

"What's your favourite photo of the campaign?", you asked, interrupting the kisses that were now getting closer to your neck. And you knew once the neck kisses started, it was game over.

Rúben looked around at all the photos. "That one".

You looked at the photo he pointed and it was one of you with your back to the camera. You were topless so your back was as exposed as it was at that moment and you couldn't stop smiling seeing the rest of the photo.

"Is it my beautiful profile you like?", you asked, copying the pose so he could see the profile twice.

"Sure. But that thong…that's the sexiest piece of lingerie I've ever seen and I've seen a few. And of course, it looks even better because it's you wearing it".

"Do you want to know a secret?", he nodded. "That's what I'm wearing tonight. They let me keep the whole collection".

"You're kidding".

"Shame you won't be able to find out if it's true or not".

You left the room but not before turning to see Rúben unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. Yes, you were driving him insane. And no, he wasn't going to find out if you were telling the truth or not. Should have thought twice before pissing you off.

                                        **

After that event, Rúben tried to contact you but you ignored him. So he had almost given up. That was until he had to play against Chelsea. He obviously didn't make a great first impression in front of Kepa but perhaps they could talk, man to man, and fix that. So when the match ended, Rúben tried to find him quickly to talk to him with the excuse of needing to shake his hand after the match.

"So, your friend…".

"She's too good for you, brother. And you messed up and she doesn't give second chances. Sorry".

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias angst #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias x reader #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer angst #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Jayce Goes Sleuthing - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

In the wake of Vi's departure, and Viktor's defection, Jayce's life falls apart.

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

"Consider carefully. The Man of Tomorrow, Piltover's brightest mind, would look pretty dim in a prison jumpsuit."

Snippet:

Caitlyn—

I got your message this morning. I'm sorry it's taken so long to write. It's been a crazy couple of weeks. Not sure where to begin, so I guess I'll start with the most important thing:

I've resigned from the Council.

As of last week, I'm no longer a Councilor. Just a regular citizen. I know the news isn't official yet. There will be a special announcement later this week. It's pretty short-notice. I'm sure the media will have a field day.

Your Mother knows; I'm surprised she didn't tell you. Then again, the Council's been busy scrambling to find a replacement for Professor Heimerdinger. They've been hogtied in a bunch of other issues since Zaun's independence, too. There's been nothing but emergency sessions with the Zaunite Cabinet. So it's possible she didn't get a chance.

The motion for me to step down was unanimous. It's the right choice, and I'm at peace with it.

I'm sorry to hear about yours and Violet's split. It sounds like the two of you had a good thing going. She and I didn't really see eye to eye. But you seemed to care for her a lot. I had no idea there was a Peacekeeper Exchange Initiative happening—or that she'd been reassigned to Zaun. I saw no preliminary memos on the matter. If I had, maybe I could've done something to prevent it.

Then again, I've been so distracted lately. It wouldn't have surprised me if a hundred things slipped under my radar.

I understand you're concerned for her safety.  Near as my old contacts in the Council can tell me, her transfer has been approved. They've already conducted the ceremonial swearing-in, and the inaugural Peacekeeper Exchange Initiative has officially begun. They've been granted interim residency until the next rotation, six months from now.

There's not much that can be done to stop it. At least, not in the legal sense. My authority to intervene has run its course. And if the Council's being tightlipped, then Silco's people are pathologically silent.  The details of Violet's reassignment—where she'll stay, her duties, her work schedule—is all being kept private.  

I'm sorry, Cait. You're the last person who deserves this kind of heartbreak.

You've asked me to confront Mel. To convince her to stop Vi's transfer, or pull the plug on the whole project.

Sadly, I can't do either of those things.

Mel and I are no longer together. It was a mutual decision. She's no longer my mentor, and I'm no longer her protégé. She's made her position on forging diplomatic ties with Zaun's First Chancellor clear. I've made equally clear my distaste on trying to spin blood money into gold. We're both determined to follow through, and I don't see a way of changing that.

Guess it's heartbreaks all around, huh?

Maybe it's necessary. Maybe we're supposed to hurt so we can grow. I think I've gotten a little too comfortable in my cushy Council chair. It's high time I got back to the grind. I wanted to build a better world. That means I need to put the work in at HexCorp to make it happen.

We'll get through this, Cait. You and me. Let's meet up once things have calmed down. I miss our talks. I need some sane company after weeks of listening to politicians bicker.

If there's anything I can do, please let me know.

Fondly,

Jayce

*

Cait—

Viktor's gone.

He's been missing since last Wednesday. The reason the Enforcers haven't been informed yet is because the Council is keeping it under wraps. But they've alerted the Wardens, and they're conducting a private investigation. Viktor's notes are gone from the lab. His apartment has been ransacked. All the Hex-tech prototypes are missing. 

So is the Hexcore.

I'm worried. Not because the Hexcore could be turned into a weapon of mass destruction. Viktor's been under a great deal of strain. He's not well. I don't want him getting hurt. The fact that all his research has been taken—it makes no sense. He could've been abducted, but there's no ransom note. None of his assistants noticed any signs of foul play. 

There's also been no sightings of Sky Young. Or any traces of her remains.

Cait—I don't want to add to your troubles. But I don't know who else to share this with. I trust you. I value your insight.

And the truth is, I'm a little scared.

The Wardens are suggesting Viktor's gone rogue. More than that. They're speculating that he may be linked to Sky's disappearance. Their inquisitor told me that his behavior during their last interrogation was erratic. That he'd showed signs of paranoia. That he'd withheld key details about Sky's last hours, and lied about the last time he'd seen her.

They're considering the possibility that Viktor was involved in her disappearance.

Cait—I think it's bullshit. Viktor wouldn't harm a fly. He's one of the gentlest souls I've ever known. He's dedicated his life to serving Piltover, and making it a better place. And he’s known Sky since they were children. I never saw anything but respect between them. Her disappearance hit him hard. I was with him when the preliminary investigation was being conducted.

I can tell you: he wasn't faking his grief.

Something else is going on. I don't know what.

But I'm going to find out.

In the meantime, I'm sorry I can't be of more help with tracking down Violet. I don't have any pull with the Wardens, or Silco's administration. And my contacts on the Council won't talk.  Try reaching out to your mother. She's the only one I know who can reasonably intervene. At the very least, she can get her sources to conduct a quiet search.

I know it's not the solution you wanted. I know the stakes are high.

I just want you to know you're not alone.

Warm regards,

Jayce

*

Caitlyn—

It's late, and I know you're probably sleeping. Still, I had to write. Something happened tonight.

The Wardens found Viktor.

He's been located in Zaun. Specifically, at the headquarters of First Chancellor Silco. They're claiming he's defected. What's more, they're stating that he's in collaboration with a notorious chemist, formerly known as Colin Reveck, but currently known as "Singed." The doctor has a record for performing unethical experiments.

He's also rumored to be responsible for the creation of Shimmer.

The Wardens received clearance to access Viktor's medical records. They found traces of Shimmer in his blood samples. Apparently, Viktor's been on the drug for months. He's been hiding the side-effects. There is evidence that he's been taking massive doses. It's been compromising his mind.

And now, according to the Wardens, he's a wanted fugitive.

Sky Young's DNA has been found on his personal belongings.

I can't believe it, Cait. This isn't the man I know. Viktor would never harm Sky. Never. And with his medical condition, he'd be too weak to physically attack her. As for the Shimmer—he's always been adamant about never touching drugs. Or stimulants of any kind. One cup of caffeine was enough to get him buzzed.

He wouldn't take that poison, even in his darkest hours.

Something isn't adding up.

The Council are currently in talks with Zaun's Cabinet. They're demanding that Viktor and the Hexcore be handed over. The Wardens are pushing for extradition.  Mel has been trying—unsuccessfully—to reach First Chancellor Silco. He's been unavailable since last afternoon.

This is bad.

I've got a sinking feeling. Viktor's research—the Hexcore—it's the key to unlocking a whole stratum of potential weaponry. The fact that he's now in Zaun, under Silco’s aegis, isn't a coincidence. Silco's notoriously secretive, but we know that he has an extensive network of spies and informants. If he saw a chance to use Viktor's illness against him, and profit off his genius, he'd seize it without a second thought.

That's exactly what I think is happening.

Viktor's not a criminal. And he didn't disappear of his own volition. Silco must've had a hand in it.

I'm going to figure out how.

Take care of yourself, okay? Please. I've already lost my brother. I can't lose my best friend too.

Be safe. I'll keep in touch.

Jayce

*

Cait—

Sorry I took off so early yesterday. There was no time. The Council had an emergency meeting with HexCorp, and I was summoned as its representative.

Things have escalated. Zaun's Cabinet has denied extradition. They claim that Viktor's entry into Zaun was perfectly legal. What's more, they state that the Hexcore, as one of Viktor's primary inventions, is his to take wherever he chooses. They even claim that the Hexcore is a prototype and, therefore, not an official piece of HexCorp's patented technology.

I'd expected the Council to push back. Instead—and I can't believe I'm writing this—they've acquiesced.

I was speechless. 

The Council's position is that, as a scientist, Viktor has a right to his intellectual property. I argued that we'd both worked on the Hexcore as a team. Therefore, it was ours. They pointed to our original patent agreement, and the fine print that gives us equal, but not joint, ownership. They also reminded me that, as Viktor was from the Fissures, he was legally a foreigner under Piltover's laws.

I remember, during my tenure as a Councilor, pushing for months to get that stupid provision removed, and having my proposal shot down.

Now it's bit the entire city in the ass.

Cait—I'm ashamed to say it. But I lost my temper. In the middle of the meeting, I slammed my fist on the table and demanded to know why the hell they were backing down. Didn't we have the resources, and the right, to protect those who'd served us? Even if Viktor had exited under a cloud, didn't his deteriorating health and the danger the Hexcore posed justify both their retrieval?

Why, I wanted to know, weren't they summoning Silco here to account for his actions? Why weren't they threatening his administration with military force if he refused to cooperate? Didn't he owe us an explanation as to how our greatest innovator had come into contact with him?

It was Mel who answered. She explained that Silco's administration is a sovereign entity. We don't have the authority to demand an audience, nor the leverage to force his cooperation. We're not even legally bound to warn him. Zaun's Cabinet has the right to act independently of our influence. And, as for Silco's personal agenda, that is beyond the Council's purview. He's not obliged to share his secrets. It's his prerogative, not ours.

In other words, we don't have a leg to stand on.

I was so mad. So mad. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe them. It was the same shit I'd had to deal with when I'd first been nominated as Councilor. Except that time, it was the bureaucracy that was hamstringing me. This time, it's the people who I worked with. People who swore to protect our citizens. Who pledged to defend Piltover's principles.

And who are now acting like cowards, unwilling to do what's necessary.

I called them on it. In front of the entire assembly. I asked them where their courage had gone. Why they weren't fighting. Why they weren't even trying. Was this what Piltover was going to become? A society that allowed its greatest minds to be suborned? What the hell were they planning to do when the next inventor came under Silco's spell? Were they going to give up then, too?

The meeting ended shortly afterwards.

 Mel tried to catch me in the hallway, but I was having none of it. She cornered me by the stairs. She wanted to know if I'd reconsider resigning. If we could talk.

I'll admit I was tempted. I haven't seen her since our split, and it's been hard. I miss her. It'd be nice to just hold her, even for a few minutes. To feel sane again. Safe. I know we can't rekindle things. Not with her position, and mine. But a hug, a kiss, some conversation...anything would've been good.

I turned her down.

I said we had nothing to discuss. That she'd made her position clear, and it was not one I agreed with. I asked her what the point of continuing the conversation was if we couldn't agree on the most fundamental matters. If we'd end up arguing over the same things again. I didn't have time for it. My focus had to be on Viktor. On finding a way to bring him home. And if she wasn't willing to help, then we had nothing else to talk about.

She told me I was being foolish. That I'd let my emotions blind me. That my stubbornness was going to be the death of me.

I told her I was fine with that. Because the alternative would be dying inside. That I wasn't willing to let Silco's take everything from me.

Especially not Viktor. 

Cait, let's meet. Soon. We've got a lot to discuss. And I can't do this alone.

Jayce.

*

Cait— 

This is going to be a quick one.

The Council and Zaun's Cabinet have arranged a summit. It's slated for next week. Silco is going to attend. We'll be discussing the terms for Viktor's return, and the repatriation of the Hexcore. Mel has been working to make it happen. It's the first sign of progress. It gives me hope. And it's a chance for me to confront Silco directly.

I'm not going to rest until Viktor's back where he belongs.

I'll ask Silco about Violet. I'll corner him in private, if I have to. I'm not sure how the two of them are connected. If they are, at all. But it can't hurt. And the more I can get him talking, the more opportunities I'll have to figure out what the hell is really going on. What he wants. And why.

I'll send a follow-up letter once I've got more information.

Stay strong. And, whatever happens, please don't lose faith. Piltover needs your courage. So do I.

Jayce.

*

Caitlyn,

I'm so sorry. I need to vent. Too much has happened.

Viktor's staying in Zaun. 

So is the Hexcore.

Negotiations fell through. I don't know why. Silco showed up, and he was civil. More than that, actually. He was polite. He shook hands. He thanked the Council for reaching out, and expressed his appreciation at their willingness to compromise. He'd brought along his Deputy and a few members his Cabinet. They were well-dressed, professional. I was impressed. I was relieved. I'd come prepared to do battle, but he seemed determined to cooperate.

Then it all went to shit.

Cait, I can't explain it. But the whole thing felt... staged. Like Silco already knew how it was going to end. Like the Council had already signed off on some private deal, and were simply going through the motions. Mel opened with the usual pleasantries. She asked Silco about his health. His administration. His relationship with Zaun's citizens.

The latter question was a nod to me. A subtle signal that she was leaving the floor open for me to address him.

I did. I'd been preparing for weeks. I'd even gone over my questions with some of the other Councilors. They'd all agreed that the issue had to be addressed. If the Council was serious about building diplomatic ties, and creating a sustainable rapport with Zaun, then Silco's conduct had to be taken seriously. And he couldn't be given an inch.

He needed to be confronted.

So, as soon as the pleasantries were finished, I asked him what his plans were for the Hexcore. For the Peacekeeper Exchange Initiative. Why, if he was a man of the people, was he taking a magical relic that was potentially volatile out of our control? How was it serving his citizens, or the people who'd been entrusted to his care? How was it serving his principles?

And, most importantly, where the hell was Viktor, and what the hell was his game?

Silco smiled.

The bastard actually smiled.

Then he showed me a letter, in Viktor's handwriting, addressed to the Council. It stated that, because of his deteriorating health, he'd chosen to relocate back home. He wrote that there was only so much treatment the doctors at Piltover could provide. Eventually, he'd need more intensive care. And, as a Zaunite, he was entitled access to the physician of his choosing.

His physician was Colin Reveck.

Singed.

Apparently, if Viktor's letter was to be believed, Singed had known Viktor for years. As a chemist, he had a keen understanding of the disease affecting Viktor's lungs. And he'd been working with him on an experimental treatment. That was the reason Shimmer was in Viktor's bloodstream.

It was an integral part of the therapy. Without it, he'd have died long ago.

Silco also presented records of his conversations with Viktor, during which Viktor had confessed to feeling ostracized in Piltover. To having been made to feel bypassed, not only by the Council, but by his own peers.

By me.

Sky's disappearance had hit him hard, and the strain of maintaining his career and his health had left him emotionally depleted. He'd been forced to make a choice, and he'd chosen life.

He'd chosen Zaun.

I demanded proof. I said there was no way Viktor would write a letter like that. That there was no way he'd willingly choose to work with someone like Singed. He'd always despised putting morality aside for progress. He'd never approved of using animals as test subjects. Or people. I accused Silco of lying. Of blackmailing Viktor, or worse.

Silco showed me a photo.

I'll spare you the worse details. It was Viktor, yes. Definitely him. But the man in the picture looked nothing like my friend. He was... augmented. All over. He had metal plates across his face. There are mechanical appendages in place of his hands. There's gears, and cogs, and wires, on his torso. His throat is encased in a tube, and there is an equalizer outfitted to his chest.

Even his eyes are different. They're no longer his natural color. They're yellow and black. Like hazard lights.

And they glow.

Cait, it was like something out of a nightmare. He looked—he looked like an automaton. Like a cyborg. It wasn't a person anymore. It was a machine. Something created by a mad scientist, and brought to life by evil sorcery.

The timestamp on the photo was two weeks ago. When Viktor was first reported missing. That meant that, between then and now, Viktor had undergone a terrible transformation.

He'd become something inhuman.

Cait, I've known Viktor for years. I've known him better than anyone. But right then, I didn't recognize him. Not even a little bit. And, when I looked up at Silco, I saw him watching me. Watching the horror in my face. Smiling.

Smiling like the Devil himself.

I could've hit him. I would've hit him. Right then and there. But the Councilors intervened. Their security pulled me back. Mel tried to talk me down, but I was too furious. I couldn't believe what I'd seen. I couldn't believe he'd had the nerve to show it. To shove it in our faces. I couldn't believe the Viktor he'd shown me was real.

But it was.

The photograph's been vetted. It's the real deal. So is Viktor's signature. His handwriting hasn't changed. It's been matched to several official documents. His letter, which was accompanied by a medical report from Singed, has also been examined. And, while we've been unable to corroborate its contents, the letter itself has passed a rigorous authenticity test.

Viktor is alive.

And he's staying in Zaun. Under Silco's care.

He's been provided an apartment, a generous stipend, and a state-of-the-art lab. He's been placed in charge of an expanding Hex and chem-tech research division, and given a team of assistants. He's been granted unrestricted access to Zaun's medical facilities for his treatment, and all the resources necessary to conduct his experiments.

All of which are in collaboration with Singed.

There's nothing we can do, Cait. Absolutely nothing. Silco's got him locked in a golden cage. He's using Viktor's genius to advance his agenda, and the fact that he's been augmented is proof that he's not above forcing him into compliance.

Viktor's a casualty. And we're the ones who lost him.

It's all my fault.

They've scheduled a forty-five-minute recess. We'll take a break, then resume for the next session. After that, there'll be a dinner. And more discussions. I can't. I just can't. This is all wrong. Everything. My best friend is gone. Mel and I are no longer together. And the Council. They've failed. Failed us. Failed the city. Failed Viktor.

And something tells me it's going to get a whole lot worse.

Cait, please be patient. I still need to ask Silco about Violet. And I'll do everything I can. You have my word.

Jayce.

*

Cait—

The summit's over. Silco and his people have left.

 And good riddance. I never want to see his rotten face again.

Cait, the whole thing was a sham. A total sham. From beginning to end. Nothing meaningful came out of the meetings. Silco didn't answer a single question. The Council wouldn't hold him to account.  Instead, they started discussing the crisis as if it was a business merger. As if it was some kind of deal to be brokered, and a mutually beneficial arrangement to be made.

Silco had the gall to suggest a compromise.  He said that Viktor, as a Zaunite, should be allowed to continue his research on the Hexcore. In return, the Council will be permitted to oversee his future Hextech projects. Both cities will collaborate to conduct a monthly audit via a joint Oversight Committee. They'd guarantee a set number of patents, and a share of the profits, and even provide funding for further innovations.

I argued that this was unacceptable. It would give the Council no actual leverage, and would only make them complicit in Viktor's subjugation. That they'd be signing a blank check. And that, by working with Silco, we'd be condoning his crimes.

The Council said nothing. They didn't support me. They didn't even try.

Mel agreed with Silco.

I couldn't believe it. I still can't believe it, Cait. She sided with him. With him!

She said the Council had to think long-term, and that, if we wanted peace, we needed to start acting like the world leaders we claimed to be. She pointed to the economic benefits, and the opportunities the new alliance could create. She reminded everyone that Viktor was a free man, and that he was the one who'd made the decision.

As far as she was concerned, it was his right.

I was outraged. I told her this wasn't the time for political theater or corporate speak. This was a human being's life we were talking about. And Viktor wasn't free. He was a hostage. If the Council really wanted to serve their citizens, they'd stand up to Silco. They'd demand the repatriation of the Hexcore. Then they'd demand Viktor's release.

And they'd use every means possible to get him back.

Then Silco dropped a bombshell.

He said, as thanks for the Council's cooperation in facilitating Viktor's "return" to Zaun, he'd make a gesture of goodwill. He'd draft legislation to outlaw the production of Shimmer as a narcotic, and to ban its distribution for recreational purposes. And, to prove his intentions were sincere, he'd have the new law approved by a vote, and the legislation made public. Only medicinal uses, he stressed, would remain legal.

The Council, he went on to suggest, could enact a blanket embargo on Shimmer's importation. Points of entry would be monitored, and Piltover would take steps to crack down on illegal trafficking. It would send a message to Piltover's allies, that Zaun was serious about pursuing the path of legitimacy. And that its partnership with Piltover was a symbol of that intent.

I was shocked.

So was Mel. And the rest of the Council. This wasn't what anyone had been expecting. This wasn't the Silco we'd known. He was offering to put himself in our debt. To cut ties with the illegal drug trade, and to allow the Council the opportunity to enforce sanctions against bad actors.

It was a major concession.  It would effectively eliminate a key revenue stream in Silco's operation, and cripple the underworld's most valuable market.

Cait, I'll admit it.

I didn't see the trap until it was too late.

Silco doesn't need to distribute Shimmer within his city anymore. Because he's got the Hexcore. And it's capable of making breakthroughs in science and magic, beyond anything we've ever known. He's got some of the world's greatest innovators under his thumb. The only limits are their imaginations.

With the fruits of their labor—and the Council's backing—investors will flock to Zaun. Capital will pour in. The city will grow. Its economy will flourish.

No drugs needed.

I was the only one who spoke out against it. I felt like a complete jerk. But I had to state my case. I argued that the Council had to consider the risks. That we couldn't trust Silco, no matter how immaculately he dressed up his proposal. Who was to say he wouldn't take the Council's investment and put it into other ventures? What if he began funneling the investors' coin, and used it to finance bioweapons? What if he turned Zaun into an armory, right under Piltover's feet?

And, even if he did give up the drug trade, what about his human trafficking? His smuggling? The brothels, and the illegal casinos, and the underground fighting pits?

What about his ties to organized crime?

The Council dismissed my concerns.

They were eager. Eager to shake hands. Eager to sign on the dotted line. Eager to move forward.

The deal, Mel explained, would be the cornerstone of a lasting relationship between Zaun and Piltover. The Council's approval was vital. It would lend a stamp of legitimacy to Zaun's new order. And, she stated, it was the only way to avoid future conflict.

I was disgusted.

She was trying to sell the summit as a success. Like we hadn't given up a critical piece of our national defense, and put it into the hands of a foreign dictator. Like Silco hadn't blackmailed Viktor, or taken advantage of his illness, or exploited his vulnerability. Like he wasn't an abusive tyrant who ruled by fear, and murdered in cold blood.

Like he hadn't just gotten away with everything.

Cait, I can't tell you what happened. I don't have the words. I was angry. So, so angry. And disappointed. With the Council. With Mel. With myself. I couldn't stand to be there a moment longer.

So I walked out.

After the summit, I waited to catch Silco in the lobby. He was heading towards his limo. There were no security personnel. Just him and his Deputy Chancellor and a blackguard. He was smoking a cigar, and strolling like a man with all the time in the world.

I didn't say a word. I didn't hesitate. I grabbed him and pinned him against the wall.

I told him he had a choice. Either he could hand over Viktor and the Hexcore, or I'd beat the truth out of him.

The bastard smiled. He smiled at me.

Then he said, "Pet."

Someone grabbed me from behind. An arm went around my throat. A hand wrenched my elbow behind my back. I struggled, but couldn't break free. The grip was like iron.  I half-turned, expecting to see Silco's Deputy. It was the blackguard.

Cait...

It was Violet.

She was in a full-on bodyguard get-up. Black suit. Black shirt. Black visor. Black boots. Her was cropped short, and she'd gained muscle. She looked lean, and hard, and strong.

Like a soldier.

She didn't say a word. She kept me in a sleeper hold, until the Deputy arrived with security. I don't know how many Councilors saw me in that position. I don't know what they must've been thinking, or what they must’ve been saying.

I was seeing stars. I was dizzy. I could barely breathe.

Then Silco said, "Drop him."

Violet obeyed.

When I came to, I was on my knees. My neck hurt. My arm hurt. My head was pounding. It was hard to focus. Then two steel-tipped boots materialized in my line of sight. I looked up, and there was Silco, staring down at me.

He was calm. Collected. Completely at ease.

"You'll have to forgive her," he said. "She's still being trained."

Cait, he knew.

He knew I'd ask him about Violet. He knew you'd placed inquiries looking for her. He knew we were concerned for her wellbeing.

So he'd had her accompany him to the summit, as a deliberate provocation.

He was taunting us both.

"I'd advise you, as a personal favor, to not try this again," he said. "If you do, you may find the outcome... less forgiving."

I told him to go fuck himself.

I think he smiled. It's hard to remember.

With a fingertip, he gestured Violet over. She came. I'll never forget that. The way she obeyed. Without hesitation. Without question. Not once did she acknowledge my presence. I still remember when I'd drop by for tea sometimes at your flat, and she'd scowl when she saw me. Or roll her eyes. Or say, "Oh, look. Pretty-Boy's here."

There was none of that. Nothing. Just total silence.

Total obedience.

Then Silco took her by the chin.

"There's a good girl," he said, and stroked her cheek.

 It made my skin crawl.

I told myself it was because of Silco. Since the Siege, I'd been looking into his past, and there's enough material in the dossiers to turn your blood to icewater. I can't imagine the psychic price of serving that monster. I can't even imagine the pressure of being a blackguard at his beck-and-call.

I told myself it was the thought of Violet at his mercy, night after night. I told myself it was because she'd lost her autonomy. That she was trapped. That she was under duress.

I told myself that's why my gut was churning.

I'm sorry, Cait.

That's not the truth.

The truth is, I wasn't scared of Silco.

I was scared of Violet.

No—I was terrified.

Cait—there was a look in her eyes. I don't know how to describe it. A coldness, almost. Like she wasn't seeing me, or the Deputy, or anyone. Only Silco. She didn't flinch when he touched her. She didn't even blink. She was completely unmoved. Like a soldier on the parade ground.

Like a weapon waiting to open fire.

The limo pulled up. Silco and his Deputy got inside. I remember Vi holding the door open for them. And I remember her turning, one last time, to look at me.

There was nothing in her face. No emotion. No recognition. No regret.

Just empty.

Then she got inside, and the door swung shut. They drove off.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Cait, it's all I can think about. How different she looks. How hard she seems. And that stare. That terrifying, horrible stare.

What the hell did Silco do to her?

Cait, I'm coming to visit. We have a lot to talk about.

Jayce

*

Cait—

I have news.

Big news.

After I left your flat, I went straight home. A courier had just dropped a missive off at my place.

It was from the Wardens.

Their theory on Viktor being responsible for Sky's disappearance is crumbling. Despite their suspicions that Viktor was the last man to see her, their investigation has been unable to locate a single shred of evidence.

Viktor's laboratory is clean. No fingerprints, no signs of foul play, no indication of a struggle. Even the cameras, which the Wardens have accessed using a subpoena, showed no signs of her leaving with him. Her clothes, and belongings, were still inside the building. And her bike was still parked outside.

They're still not sure how she vanished. It's like she was swallowed up by a black hole.

As for the DNA—a secondary lab test revealed it was a mistake. Just a case of cross-contamination. They'd mistaken an old sample from a previous search in Sky's apartment. The report had gotten mixed up with Viktor's case file. The mistake had been made by an intern, who'd mislabeled a sample, and the senior investigators had simply repeated the error.

All in all, it was a complete botch-up.

The evidence is circumstantial. There's nothing that implicates Viktor.

For now, they've dropped charges.

I should be thankful. I know Viktor hasn't committed any crimes, and there's no concrete evidence of his guilt. It was a stretch to accuse him of involvement in Sky's disappearance.

But now there's a nagging doubt in the back of my mind. The timing's too convenient.  First the Council caves to Zaun, and lets Viktor remain as Silco's prisoner. Now the Wardens have decided, of their own accord, not to press charges.

It makes no sense.

Worse, my own mind's playing tricks on me. I keep replaying the night Sky was reported missing. How distraught Viktor was. How he could barely speak. Barely look at me. He was a wreck, and I believed his distress was sincere. I'd told the Wardens, time and again, that there was no way Viktor had done anything to harm Sky.

I'd vouched for him.

Now, though...now, I'm not so sure.

The thing is, we still don't have all the facts from that night. Sky was last seen exiting her office at eight o' clock. The cameras see her walking down the main corridor. Then, at nine thirty, her assistant goes in to check on her, and finds her gone. Her bike's still there. Her street clothes are still on the rack. All her possessions are still inside.

But no Sky.

Where the hell did she go?

The cameras don't show her exiting the building. Which means she must still be in there. Except there's no trace of her. None. 

Then it hit me.

The Hex-lab—mine and Viktor's workspace—had no cameras. A security camera had been installed, but Viktor had requested it be removed. He'd said, and I quote, "We are scientists. Our work necessitates a degree of privacy." It was part of our terms with the Council, and an addendum to our patent agreement. The lab would be kept off-limits, except to those involved with the project.

Viktor, Sky, and I were the only one who had the keycard.

And Viktor was the only person in the lab that night.

Caitlyn—I'm worried. It's possible I've made a terrible mistake. I've been so fixated on finding Viktor, I haven't stopped to ask myself why. Why would Viktor disappear without a word? Why would he take all his notes, abandon his post, and go into hiding? Why wouldn't he ask me for help? Or at least leave a note?

I've been thinking—what if he doesn't want to be found?

What if something bad happened between him and Sky? Something so terrible, he had no choice but to run?

Cait, please—help me figure this out.

Your friend,

Jayce.

*

Cait,

I had a fight with Mel.

I'm ashamed to say it. To be honest, it's embarrassing. I've never raised my voice at her before. Or sworn at her. Or, frankly, behaved like such a prick.

Here's what happened.

After my talk with you, I went straight to her penthouse. I was in a bad place. I'd hit the bar—awful idea, I know—and then gone for a walk. It was raining. I ended up in one of the city's parks. It's near her place. I sat on a bench and tried to get my thoughts together. Everything—why Viktor could've left, why Sky might've disappeared, why  the Council were so willing to negotiate with Silco—was running through my head.

I just wanted to talk. I wanted a friend. I wanted her.

Cait—you told me how hard it's been since Violet left. How much you've been hurting. Not the everyday stuff. I know about that. But it's the other things, too. Like how you don't feel like yourself anymore. Like there's something hollow in you, that only she can fill. And nights are the worst. You miss the closeness. You miss the warmth.

And, Gods help me, the sex.

That's the part I miss the most. I can't tell you how many times I've woken up at night, dreaming about Mel, and I've had to stop myself from calling her up at four o'clock in the morning.

It's hard, Cait. Being apart. It's really hard.

I know how you feel. So you'll understand perfectly why I went to see Mel. I know we broke things off. I know it was my decision. And, no, I didn't expect us to pick up where we'd left off.

I just wanted someone to talk to.

Before I knew it, I was at her penthouse. I was soaked, and cold, and drunk. It was the middle of the night. But the doorman recognized me. He let me in, and called ahead to let her know.

She was waiting for me.

I'll never forget how she looked, Cait. She was wearing a silk robe.  One of my favorites: all white lace and gold brocade. Her hair was loose, and it smelled like hyacinths. You know, I've never told you this, but I used to comb Mel's hair before bed. I wasn't very good at it. Sometimes I'd end up pulling too hard. But she'd smile, each time, and show me the trick to gently working through the knots. She'd kiss my hands. Then she'd kiss me.

Then—

Well, I think you know.

Seeing her again. Seeing her so soft, and warm, and lovely. It took my breath away.

It took everything.

Cait, I'm not going to lie. We ended up in bed. She said she'd missed me. And, damn it, I'd missed her. So much.

So very, very much.

I can't say I don't love her. How can I not? She's smart, and gorgeous, and funny. She's passionate. She's fearless. And I admire her. She has a way of commanding a room, but also of making every single person feel heard. She makes me feel heard. When I talk to her, I feel like I can say anything. Do anything. Be anything.

I needed that. I needed her.

She felt the same.

It was beautiful. Intimate. Wonderful. Sure at first, we were both a little awkward, and clumsy, and I'd forgotten to shave the past few days. But, after a few minutes, we were like two people who'd never left each other. Two people who'd never been apart.

Two people in love.

When we finished, we held each other. Then she kissed my cheek, and whispered in my ear, "Jayce, darling... you're home."

And, Cait, it felt like it. Like I'd finally come home.

It's not until after I'd showered, and was heading back into the bedroom, that the doubts crept in. Those nagging little doubts. Things I'd pushed down. Things I didn't want to confront. Like how the Council and Silco seemed to be on the same page in advance.  Like how they were giving him carte blanche to exploit a man's genius, and use it for their own gains.

Like how Mel, out of everyone, seemed to know exactly what Silco was thinking.

Like she was expecting it.

I slipped back into bed with Mel, and I held her. Still, the questions came in my head. They came quietly, at first. Softly. Then, as the silence between us grew, they began to gain volume. Until I was sure she could hear them too.

Then I asked her the question.

"Why didn't you fight?"

At first, she pretended not to understand. So I said it again, louder.

"Why didn't you fight, Mel? Why didn't the Council?"

She turned. She was looking at me. Searching my face.

"You had a chance," I told her. "You could've fought for Viktor. You could've fought for me. Why didn't you?"

There was a long silence.

"I didn't have a choice," she said.

"Bullshit."

"It's the truth. I didn't. Jayce—you don't understand. There's more at stake than just the Hexcore. It's a small piece of a bigger issue. That issue being—how can we maintain our peace with Zaun. You have to understand. It's not only about your friend."

"Viktor. His name is Viktor."

"Viktor, yes. But we need to think of the whole picture. It's not just him. It's our trade agreements. It's our economic stability. It's our reputation as a city. As the City of Progress."

"So it's not important, what's happening to him. Because he's not a Piltovan, he's expendable."

"That's not what I'm saying. Please. Don't twist my words."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that a single man, or his personal rights, cannot eclipse the good of a city. You've been obsessed. You've been chasing shadows, instead of addressing the real problems."

"Like the Council selling out their best innovator to a dictator."

For the first time, her eyes disconnected from mine. "He isn't a dictator."

"Isn't he? What do you call someone who murders his way to the top, and uses his power to enslave his citizens?"

"We've held discussions, Silco and I. He wants prosperity for his city. Freedom for his people. I want the same for ours. To achieve that, we must compromise on certain issues. He's no model of merciful leadership, I grant you. But he's a pragmatic man. A visionary. Someone who can bring lasting change."

"He's a monster."

"Jayce. Darling. Your anger blinds you. I know he's committed terrible crimes. And yes, we've made deals that neither of us is pleased with. But, in the end, the outcome is worth the price. Our cities will grow together. We'll create a lasting, sustainable peace."

"At the cost of my best friend'."

"Viktor chose to leave. It's his right."

"Only because he had no choice. He couldn't stay in Piltover. Not with the Wardens falsely accusing him."

"Jayce—" A shadow fell across her face. "Please. Stop. This isn't getting us anywhere. Can't you see that? If you keep on fighting, you're only going to make things worse."

"Worse for who? The Council?"

"For Viktor. And... for you."

There was something in her eyes. Something... dark. Almost desperate.

"Please, Jayce. You need to trust me. I have your best interests at heart. I've been working to protect you. You've no idea the things I've—" She cut herself off.

I asked her what she was talking about. I asked her what the hell was going on.

That's when she told me.

Cait, the Warden's investigation? Mel is the one who called it off. Not because of inconclusive evidence. Not because of the waste of resources. Not because the security camera footage was inconclusive.

She called it off, because the Wardens had irrefutable proof that Viktor had killed Sky.

It wasn't just the fact that he was the last man to see Sky alive. Or the fact that she was last seen near the corridor to the Hex-lab. 

It was the fact that, in the lab itself, they found Sky.

Or rather, her bone dust.

It was everywhere. Motes of it, on the floor. On the chairs. On the workbench. Someone had tried to clean it up, but not thoroughly. Not enough to remove the residue. And the forensics team had been able to confirm, using chemical analysis, that the samples were mixed with Viktor's DNA.

His, and no one else's.

The Wardens were set to launch an arrest warrant. Then Mel had intervened.

"It would've been a disaster," she told me. "A disaster for him. A disaster for Zaun. And for us. I had no choice, Jayce. None."

I was shocked. My brain couldn't comprehend what she was saying. It was impossible. Viktor wasn't a murderer. He couldn't be. He just couldn't.

I asked her if Silco knew.

She admitted that he did. He was the one, in fact, who'd tipped the Wardens off. Apparently, a remark Viktor had made during a conversation with his Deputy Chancellor had caught Silco's attention. He'd sent a blackguard to Viktor's lab, on the pretext of collecting leftover notes. During a search, the blackguard found traces of bone dust. He collected the sample and turned it over to the Wardens.

There were no signs of tampering. The evidence was months old.  And it was damning.

"I can't believe this." I whispered.

Mel put her arms around me. She held me tight.

"Jayce," she said. "I'm sorry. Silco and I—we decided that the best thing would be for Viktor to remain in Zaun. For the charges to be dropped. So long as he confines his work to the Fissures, he'll have complete freedom. But should he return to Piltover..."

She didn't finish.

She didn't need to.

Cait, the Council and Silco. They've conspired against Viktor. Against both of us. They're letting him remain in Zaun, so that he can continue his research on the Hexcore. But, should he return, he'll be arrested.

And I'll be forced to testify.

It was too much. The idea that my best friend could be a killer. The fact that Mel knew. That she'd been complicit. The betrayal, by the Council, who'd gone along with it all. The duplicity. The corruption.

It was just too much.

I couldn't stop myself. I lost control. I leapt out of bed. I shouted. I called her a liar. I asked her how she could do it. How she could let him stay, and put him in danger. How she could be so calculating. So cold.

So much like... Silco.

She didn't answer. She was crying. I've never seen Mel cry. Never.

And, Gods help me, I didn't care.

Cait, I stormed out of her flat. I left her there, in tears.

I can't go back. I can't forgive her. I can't forgive myself.

I'm writing you now from a bar. It's three o' clock in the morning. I can't go home. I can't bear to sleep. I can't stop thinking. About the summit. About Mel. About Viktor.

About the future.

Cait, please help.

I'm lost.

Jayce

*

Jayce—

Destroy this message the minute you read it. You're being monitored.

Your apartment is being watched.

Your office, too.

I know, because so is mine.

Silco knows you're trying to make contact with Viktor. He knows I'm trying to reach out to Vi. The only reason he's permitted you to communicate with me is to bait a trap. I've gone back and deleted every missive I've written to you. Do the same. You need to watch your back. If the Wardens find out you've been trying to make contact with a suspected killer, it's not just your career.

It's your freedom.

You're a private citizen now. They won't hesitate to arrest you. And I won't be able to stop them.

Jayce, this is serious.

You're a hero. You're the face of Hextech. You've changed the world. You can't afford to throw it away. If you get caught, it'll be catastrophic.

Please. I'm begging you. You have to stop.

We can't contact each other via missive. Not until I can figure a way out of this.

Caitlyn

*

Caitlyn,

Don't worry. I won't put you in danger. I've found a workaround. I've created a secure channel, which will allow us to correspond without being intercepted. I've also modified the pneumatic tubes. It will take some time, but I can rig a system, which will ensure the messages are delivered directly to your desk.

I need a favor.

Your department has access to the Warden's database. How high is your clearance? Can you get access to their records on Sky? I'd like to have a look at their files.

I'll explain when I see you.

Jayce

*

Jayce,

I got in.

Here are the files.

Hurry. I don't know how long the clearance will last.

Cait

*

Cait—

Thank you.

This is incredible. You're amazing.

I've been reading through the records. It's difficult, because a lot of stuff has been redacted. But I've managed to piece together the timeline of Sky's disappearance. It's hard to believe, but the case has been open since the day she went missing. It's bigger than the Wardens let on to the Council.

There's more here than I expected.

According to the records, the Wardens were already investigating Viktor.  He'd been placed on their Watch List, under suspicion of having ties with the Undercity's chemists. It was a flimsy pretext, and he wasn't a suspect. Just a person of interest.

They were tracking his movements, to see if he had any known associates belowground.

Then Sky was killed.

By now, I know she was killed. It's hard to watch. There's security footage, from the night she went missing. It's in black-and-white, and it's grainy. You can see Sky, exiting her office, and walking down the main hall. She's still in her lab coat, with her notes under her arm. Her hair's up, but her ponytail's slipping. She's got a smile on her face, and a spring in her step.

It's strange, Cait. But I can tell, even though she's just a shadow on the screen… she's happy.

She's going to see Viktor.

I know she's going to see Viktor, because the security cameras are tracking her movements. And they show her walking down the main hallway, past my office, and into the stairwell. From there, she goes to the third floor. The cameras lose her there. There's no coverage inside the Hex-lab.

It has no cameras, remember.

But something happens six minutes later. There's a—a fluctuation, almost. In the video. The image blurs. It's like the camera's glitching.

Except it's not the camera.

Cait, I've seen that fluctuation before.

It's a Hex-field.

I can tell because, while the image distorts, the edges of the hallway remain sharp. Which means the field's expanding outward, in a dome pattern, from a central source. The source, in question, is the Hexcore.

It's been activated.

I've checked the timeline. The hex-field is only active for a few seconds. Then it's gone.

But Sky never returns.

I've been over the footage a hundred times. And the conclusion's always the same.

Sky entered the lab. She met Viktor. Then he killed her.

Why, I can't say.  Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was something else. The point is, her remains were never found. Only traces of her bones.

I've got to find him, Cait. I've got to talk to him.

I've got to understand what happened.

Jayce

*

Cait—

It's a trap.

You were right.

I did something stupid. I didn't think. I took a risk, and it's backfired. 

I went into Zaun. I had no formal dispensation; no notarized travel pass; no clearance from the Council. I was, effectively, trespassing on foreign soil.

I didn't care.

I was going to find Viktor. I needed answers on what had happened. I wasn't going to let him stay down there, hiding from what he'd done. I was going to make him tell the truth. Then, maybe, we could figure out how to fix this mess.

So, in the middle of the night, I armed myself with my hammer. I went down to the harbor. I was careful to avoid the usual checkpoints you'd told me about. I headed for a small, out-of-the-way pier, where the patrols were less frequent. I'd borrowed a friend's boat. It was small, and not the fastest, but it's quiet. I managed to sneak past the harbor's first buoys.

Then, I crossed the border.

 Zaun's different now.

I remember the last time I was in the Fissures to get supplies. Back before the Siege. It was rundown. It was rancid. The streets were in disrepair. The people were sullen. There was poverty and sickness, and a sense of despair.

Things have changed.

The Promenade's undergone a transformation. It's like a state-of-the-art motherboard framed in multicolored neon. They've repaired the streets, and the buildings are lit up like stars. They're clean. Pristine. Even the air smells different. Less acrid.

It's almost... pleasant.

It was late, but the shops were open. The crowds were out in full-force. They were mingling in the plazas, drinking at the bars, dancing in the squares. I passed an upscale club, and there was a line snaking all the way around the block. There were people of all classes and creeds, and they were dressed up, and celebrating.

Like it was a holiday.

I couldn't believe it. After everything that monster's done, the people of Zaun are out, and living it up, like it's the greatest carnival in the world. Like they're grateful. Grateful to have Silco in charge.

Cait, it's surreal.

It's as if, after years of fear, they're finally free. Not only free from Piltover's control—from its judgment, its oppression, its prejudice. It's like they're free in their souls. They're happy. Joyous.

But I can't shake the feeling that they're in a trance. As if, with the bright lights and poppy colors, Silco is hypnotizing them. He'd holding them in thrall, so they'll worship him, and not notice the bodies he's left in his wake.

That's how I felt, walking through the Promenade. Like I was following a parade of automatons, fueled on sensory ecstasy.

I tried talking to a few passersby, and they seemed nice. Friendly.

Some of them, too friendly.

I'm not sure how, but they knew I was a Topsider. A couple of them offered to give me directions. Others were eager to buy me drinks. A few asked if I'd like a dance.

One thing's for certain: they're much more welcoming now. Like, now that Zaun's nearabouts Piltover's equal, bygones can be bygones, and no one cares about a bit of old history.

I wasn't there to debate history, though. I was there to find Viktor.

I asked a few of the locals if they'd heard of him. It didn't seem to ring any bells, though a few said he sounded familiar. Then I mentioned he'd worked on Hex-tech, and a chorus rose up.

"Oh! The Machinist!"

That's what they call him in Zaun. They've forgotten his name. Or maybe they don't care.

What matters is that he's terraforming the urban landscape. Changing the city. Bringing the Fissures up to par. Creating a new Zaun, and building it up from ground-zero

I was shocked. He's already begun work? It's only been a few weeks.

But it's true. Apparently, Silco has put him in charge of a full-scale revitalization project. He's using the Hexcore to create new infrastructural designs. Changing the way the city is laid out, and making the Fissures over from a mud-hole into a metropolis. He has a whole team of engineers, and an entourage of blackguards. Every week, they're working on a new layer of the city.

A fresh coat of paint, if you will.

This week, they were overhauling the turbines. The next, the power grid. The one after that, the sewage system. By the time the Expo's begun, Zaun will be a chromed-up paradise.

And Silco will be lauded as its liberator.

The irony.

I was told he'd be working on the turbines this week, and to head toward the eastside. So, that's where I went.

The zone was a hive of activity. Tremors from power-drills under my feet; sparks from welding torches in the air; bodies swarming over scaffoldings. It looked like a small army had been drafted, and was working their hands to the bone. The entire sector had been cordoned off. 

The turbines stood on platforms, towering over the street. They were colossal works-in-progress: rivets the size of hubcaps, steel girders dense as concrete blocks, pistons the width of my chest. They were astonishing, Cait. The scale of them was unreal. Their alloy-shelled interiors seemed to be a combination of metallurgical compounds and Fissure-seam crystals, the two meshed together into a seamless matrix with a shimmery-green tint.

There were runes, too.

Hex-runes.

They were inscribed all over the turbines. And, judging by the way the technicians were treating them, they weren't simply decorative. They were a critical component of the new design.

I'd never seen anything like it.

I couldn't help but admire Viktor's work. He'd done all this in less than a month. Except it wasn't just him. Here and there, I saw a familiar monkey motif scrawled into the blueprints, or decorating the turbine's frame.

It was Jinx's signature.

It hit me, then, like a gut punch. Viktor hadn't done this alone. Jinx was collaborating with him. Her notes were scattered throughout the designs. This wasn't a solitary operation with a spur-of-the-moment breakthrough. This was a joint venture, between two rogue agents. One that must have been in the works for months.

Or longer.

I felt a chill go down my spine.

Silco had likely planned this—this coup—from the moment of the Peace Treaty.

And there was no telling what he had planned next.

Cait, I had to stop him. I had to find Viktor.

I asked a few technicians if they'd seen him. I was directed to the south end. I didn't have a plan. All I knew was that I had to find him. Confront him. Demand an explanation.

Then I saw him.

He stood in the middle of the mayhem, directing the crew.  At first glance, he seemed the same. Same height. Same build. Same accent. But that was a trick of the eye. Like my memory was a distorting medium, and my mind had supplanted an old image onto a new reality.

Because, when he turned, it was like he'd been replaced by someone else.

Someone I barely recognized.

He seemed taller, somehow. His movements were more fluid; his stiffness less pronounced. He didn't walk. He glided. The balls of his feet seemed to float a bare millimeter above the ground, as if the air itself was propelling him forward. And the way he carried himself, with such confident assurance—it was like his world had expanded, in the span of a few weeks, from a sickbed to a stage.

That's when I noticed his cane was different.

It wasn't the ergonomic model he'd designed for himself, as his mobility declined. This was a prong-tipped rod, polished black, with a barb at the base. Like a javelin. It was a definite case of function over form. No aesthetic appeal. No concession to comfort.

Just a weapon.

But, Cait, that's not what unnerved me the most.

That was Viktor himself.

Because he wasn't Viktor. He was some unnervingly close approximation dressed in patches of Viktor's skin, with steel seams running through the missing spots. His skull, torso and limbs are half-cybernetic. The right leg—the one that 'never behaved' as he'd sometimes put it—has been replaced with a mechanical prosthesis. It's got a titanium exoskeleton, and a carbon-fiber frame, and a hydraulic heel. The knee's a ball joint. The thigh's an articulated piston. It's like a work of art. The most horrifying work of art you could imagine.

But it's not just his leg.

His right hand—the one he'd taken to wearing a glove on—is now a four-fingered steel claw. It's hinged at the wrist, and the phalanges are articulated, and the palm's been fitted with a projectile port.

I know, because I watched him fire it.

It was a blackguard, one of the many onsite. The guy was being a dick. He was bullying some of the workers, and shouting at them, and generally harassing everyone within earshot.

Then Viktor walked up, and calmly ordered him to stand down.

The blackguard laughed.

Viktor didn't hesitate. He didn't say a word. He lifted a hand. The steel palm opened, and the projectile port spun, and the muzzle flared, and a blast of hot green light shot out, and blasted a hole straight through the guy's sleeve. It must have singed his skin, too, because the blackguard let out a howl.

Then he fell to his knees, groveling apologies.

Viktor, with terse instructions to the rest of the crew, turned, and left.

I couldn't believe it.

He'd shot at a man.

Without flinching. Without pausing to consider the consequences. Without even acknowledging the guy's pain.

He'd changed, Cait.

The Viktor I knew was gentle. He had a self-effacing slouch, an earnest smile, and an uncanny ability to see the best in people. He was always questioning, always second-guessing, always willing to learn. 

This man was nothing like that.

This man was... hard.

As if the softness had been drained from him.

Just like Violet.

As he strode off, I was able to catch strains of conversation. Cait—his voice has changed completely.  He's got an equalizer attached to his mouth, which runs on a small internal pump, and has an integrated voice modulator. It's the reason his accent's less pronounced. His tone's deeper, too. It's more authoritative. More commanding.

Less human.

The rest of his face is the same as the photograph. There are sensors on his cheeks, and his jaw is augmented with a cybernetic clamp. Then there's the eyes. The sockets are lined with a copper alloy, and the lenses are bionic. No pupils; no sclera. Just two reflective orbs with a glowing core.

Golden and black. Like looking into a pair of glowing embers.

Except they're cold.

I followed him. He wasn't going far. There was a trailer nearby, where blueprints were spread out over a makeshift table. He stepped inside. I'd expected to see Jinx. I was sure she'd be there. After all, she was collaborating with him. She'd drawn up half the diagrams, and, by the looks of things, had helped him implement them, too.

But the trailer was empty.

Viktor was alone.

Then I realized Viktor knew I was there.

"Jayce," he said, without turning around. "You are trespassing."

His voice, even through the equalizer, was the same.

Except it wasn't.

It was cold, too.

"Viktor," I said. "We need to talk."

He still didn't turn. "If the blackguards find you, they will arrest you. And, should they do so, I cannot guarantee your safety."

"I don't care."

"You should."

"I know what happened to Sky."

There was a prolonged silence punctuated by the distant sound of power tools. Then, very slowly, he turned. Our eyes met, and even though every muscle and nerve ending in my body fought it, I couldn't stop myself from flinching at the totality of his transformation.

At the eerieness of it.

"Sky," he said, at last, "is gone"

"I know.  She's dead. The Wardens found her bone-dust in your lab. You killed her."

"Jayce, you don't understand."

"Then explain it to me."

"I didn't kill her. Not in the way you think."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Viktor, you were the last person to see her alive. She was last seen near the Hex-lab. There are traces of her DNA mixed in with your own. What the fuck am I supposed to think?"

He said nothing. His breathing rasped like an iron file through the air. It was a strange, grating sound. His lungs, I understood, had been augmented, too. The extent of the mechanization, in such short a time-frame, couldn't be man-made.

Then I understood.

"Magic," I said.

He didn't answer.

"That's what happened, didn't it? You were using the Hexcore's magic. Not on tools. On yourself. And you didn't want anyone to know."

Still he said nothing.

"But it went wrong, didn't it? The Hexcore did something to her. She was in the lab, and something happened, and she got hurt. Badly. So badly that you had to dispose of her. And you thought, if you were careful, no one would ever find out. That you'd get away with it."

"Jayce—"

"Is that why you left? Because you were afraid of being caught? Dammit, Viktor, answer me!"

He looked at me, and the stare was preternaturally calm. But I could feel an intense heat cooking the air around him. He didn't raise his voice, or gesticulate, or make any move against me.

He kept on staring.

"Jayce," he said at last, "before I left Piltover, I was working on a theory. One involving the Hexcore. I had discovered that, with the right runic sequence, it was possible to channel its subatomic energies into living flesh. Through an organic compound as the catalyst, and the correct sequence as a stabilizer, the Hexcore's powers would no longer be tied to its physical matrix. We'd use it to augment living things. Restore damaged muscle. Heal sick tissue. Repair a faulty organ. Even..."

"What?"

"Prolong life."

Dazed, I shook my head. "Viktor, that's impossible. That level of transfiguration—"

"Can be achieved. All that's necessary is for the Hexcore to sustain the right frequency, at the correct resonance. A harmonic pattern, if you will."

"We tried, remember? We tried, with plants and fungi. We couldn't even manage to make a weed grow. The results crumbled, or rotted, or—"

"—died. Yes." His breath shivered like a metal grate in a storm. "That is because the runic sequence is incomplete. To channel the Hexcore's power, a keystone rune is needed. Something to anchor the harmonics. Act as the focus. Without it—"

"Viktor, please. You're not making any sense—"

"I was trying to extend life, Jayce!"

For the first time, the flat dial tone of his voice shifted. I heard, subaudible but discernible, a quaver of grief.

"Extend life," he whispered. "Not take it."

It took a moment for the meaning to sink in. My breath came hot, nauseous. "You messed up. Didn't you?"

"Jayce—"

"You screwed up. Something went wrong. You did something to Sky. You killed her."

He gave a single jerky nod.

My guts turned over. The fear had been replaced with disgust. With anger. I couldn't stand to look at him. To see what he'd done.

What he'd become.

"Where's her body?" I demanded.

"It's gone."

"Gone? Gone where?"

He rubbed his jaw, the bones grinding side-to-side. It was old gesture. The one he'd make, whenever he was uncomfortable. Or guilty.

"It was consumed."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Jayce, please. You must believe me. I—I did not intend for her to die. I did not even realize she was there until after—"

"After?"

The glow in his bionic eyes dimmed. "The Hexcore, when it opened, created a feedback loop.  The catalyst in my blood was to be the sensor, absorbing the concentration of the energy's signals. The runes on my body were the integrating centers, the medium through which the feedback would be channelled.  But—but there was not enough of one to balance the other."

I understood. "The Shimmer. That's why it was in your bloodstream. It interacts with the Hexcore's harmonics. Instead of destabilizing the resonance, it amplifies the feedback. It's what allows you to maintain a stable connection."

"Yes."

"And the runes. They're not for stabilization. They're for augmentation. For transmutation."

"Yes."

"And Sky? Where did she fit into all this?"

 A strange darkness filmed Viktor's bionic eyes. "She was not meant to be there. I should have—should have locked the door. Should have—but no, I did not think. It was too much, the moment. The chance, too great. If it had worked—" He broke off. His head drooped, slowly, as if his neck was made of wires stretched too taut. "She was there. The Hexcore's field was activated. It took her."

"Took her."

"Blindly. As a mouth takes in food. She was trying to pull me away. She was saying my name. Viktor. Viktor. She did not understand." His cybernetic fingers flexed around his cane. "I could not stop it. Could not shut down the Hexcore. The energy—it was too strong. Too much."

"You're saying the Hexcore absorbed her?"

"Her flesh. Then her bones. Then her essence. Until nothing remained." His chest vibrated, like an engine winding down. "Nothing but dust."

A cold fist gripped my heart. I thought of the security footage. The fluctuation, and the blur. It hadn't been a camera glitch.

It had been the Hexcore.

"Viktor," I breathed. "My Gods."

His head remained bowed.

"This is why, isn't it? Why you asked me to destroy the Hexcore. You knew, then. Knew how powerful it was. How dangerous. You wanted me to shut it down."

"Destroy it," he whispered. "Yes. But that was before—"

"Before, what?"

"Sky. In her notes. She'd left me a—a message. Only, it was never intended for my eyes."  He unstuck his jaw with effort, as if his teeth were glued together. As if the words themselves were too heavy to shape. "Sky was working on a project. One I'd encouraged. Every week, she would show me her findings. I would provide suggestions, or offer assistance, as needed. She was a brilliant researcher, Jayce. And unlike myself... she never forgot her roots."

I swallowed. It was hard, around the knot in my throat. "What—what was her project?"

"Life." The word was soft, almost reverent. "Here, in Zaun. She'd designed blueprints for a Hex-filtration plant. Something to purify the water. Sewage removal. Runoff collection. All to make the streets where she—where we both—grew up, safer. A habitable home for the people who needed it most."

"And now... you're building it."

"Yes."

"With Silco's blood money."

He lifted his head. The contours of his expression iced over; robotic, remote. "The blood money is the Council's. Silco is only the siphon."

"What—?"

"Or do you not hold the Councilors complicit in the Undercity's degradation?"

"That's not—"

"Not the same?" Something in his bionic eyes crackled. It could've been anger, or amusement, or a thousand other emotions, and I wouldn't have known the difference. "Tell me, Jayce. Why are you here?"

I was taken aback. "Because—because I needed to know the truth."

"You know the truth." The last humanity dissolved out of his voice, leaving a mechanical buzz. "You wanted to hold me accountable."

"If you'd killed Sky—"

"You've killed too, Jayce."

A stone lodged in my chest. It was cold. It was hard.

It was the truth.

Cait—only you, Violet and Mel know what I did. That night, at Silco's Shimmer factory. The boy caught in the crossfire. The boy who'd died because of my recklessness.  I've lived with the memory of his face ever since. It's haunted me. Night and day. No matter how much I've tried to justify it. No matter how many good deeds I've done.

The fact is, I took a life.

And Viktor knew.

For so long, I'd kept it from him, out of shame but also fear. The fear of him judging me, as no different from the other Topsiders. The same ones who'd mistreated him as a boy; who'd buried his city under their refuse and left the people to rot. I was afraid, Cait, of him hating me. Of him realizing how little I deserved his friendship.

And now he did.

 Silco, I thought, icy splinters of rage in my gut. He knew too.

He knew—and he'd used the knowledge to turn Viktor against me.

"Viktor," I began.

"Jayce." His voice was dead as the grave. "Do not."

"Look, please, I—"

"You should not have come. Your presence will be construed as hostile. There will be consequences."

"Then let's leave. Come back with me. I can protect you. The Council, they'll—"

"Forgive me?" His lips approximated a smile. "No. That, I think, will not happen."

"You can't stay here. Not under Silco's thumb. He's using you, Viktor. Using the Hexcore. You can't trust him. Can't you see?"

"I can. You cannot."

 "Viktor—"

"I cannot return to Piltover, Jayce.  My mistakes have made it impossible. I understand that." The mechanical ruthlessness returned to his voice. "You, in turn, must understand. I will not return, because of your own."

My entire axis tilted. I couldn't believe my ears. I was reeling.

"You—you don't mean that."

"I do."

"You'd really choose Silco, over Piltover?"

"I choose neither."

"But—HexCorp. Our research. Me. Us."

"I am sorry, Jayce."

And for the barest moment, the briefest heartbeat, his bionic eyes seemed wetly sheened. As if he was still human.

Then it was gone.

His cane tapped, twice.

A heartbeat later, blackguards melted from the darkest corners.

I counted four. They'd been posted all around. In the shadows.

Waiting for him to give the signal.

I knew, then, that I'd been set up.

Silco had goaded me into coming. He'd known I'd confront Viktor, and Viktor would reveal what had happened to Sky. Then the blackguards would appear, and there'd be arrest warrants. Public censure. Tarnished reputations.

All the while, Viktor would remain in Zaun, free to pursue his work.

I'd played right into his hands.

"Viktor," I said. "Please. Don't do this."

"Goodbye, Jayce." He turned. "You must not return."

"Viktor—"

"Take him."

Cait, I barely had time to react. The blackguards closed in, and my hammer was out, and the energy pulsed, and I managed to get off a shot, and send two of the men flying back, until—

A blow to the back of my skull.

The ground rose up, and slammed into my face.

The world went dark.

When I woke, I was in a holding cell. A dank, cramped space, with a barred door and a cot, and a bucket in the corner.  My head throbbed. My hammer had been confiscated. My wrists were chafed from old shackles.

But, other than that, I was unharmed.

I wasn't sure how long I was kept there. Time passed strangely, in a fog of disorientation. It felt like days, but couldn't have been more than a few hours. Finally, a guard appeared. He escorted me out. We took a lift down to an underground garage, where a limousine was waiting. He shoved me in, and I braced myself for the worst.

Maybe Silco would have me strangled. Maybe they'd put a bullet through my skull. Maybe they'd dump me in the river.

I had a dozen scenarios running through my head. None of them ended well.

None of them came close to reality.

Mel was sitting inside.

Silco had informed her, via a confidential courier, of my entry into Zaun. That I'd gone across the border, unsupervised, armed, with no clearance. That I'd trespassed, and threatened Viktor. And that, in doing so, I'd violated the terms of the Peace Treaty.

Politically, it could've been catastrophic. Months of negotiations—the careful cultivation of trust, the fragile bonds of diplomacy—all put at risk. If Silco had decided to press charges, to use the incident as leverage against Piltover, or retaliation for a perceived slight, the Council would've been hard-pressed to respond.

But he hadn't.

Mel told me, afterward, that the crisis had been resolved behind closed doors. She'd taken the ferry to Zaun, requested a private meeting, and met with Silco in his office. There, after some back-and-forth, she had convinced him to drop the charges. In exchange, the Wardens had agreed to a temporary suspension of my duties at HexCorp. It was, in effect, a forced sabbatical. One I was to spend, for three months, under house-arrest.

During that time, I was forbidden from entering Zaun.

Mel told me all this later. In that moment, sitting beside her in the car, I couldn't bring myself to speak. I was too ashamed—too overwhelmed—to say a word.

We rode in silence.

Cait—I've been such an idiot.

I've gambled high, and I've lost. And because of that, Piltover had nearly lost, too. I'd put myself before my city. Before the safety, the security, the future of our people. I thought of how I'd exploded at Mel, that night in her flat. How I'd left her there, in tears. How I'd jeopardized everything she'd worked so hard to achieve. Everything I'd fought so hard to create.

All because of my own blind, selfish, outsized ego.

All because I thought I could swoop in and save the day.

Gods, what an ass I've been.

Throughout the ride, I kept looking sidelong at Mel. She sat, straight-backed, her hands in her lap, her eyes cast forward. Her dress was pristine, her hair was coiffed, her makeup was impeccable. To the untrained eye, she looked flawless.

I knew her better.

I saw the way her hands were a white-knuckled twist. I saw the subtle quiver of her lower lip. I saw the lavender shadows under her eyes.

The guilt was suffocating.

She'd saved me. She's always saved me. And how have I repaid her? With scorn. With mistrust. With disrespect.

I wanted to fall at her feet. Beg her forgiveness. Tell her how sorry I was, and how stupid I'd been, and how wrong.

I didn't.

Instead, I sat there. Staring at my shoes.

We pulled into her driveway.

"Jayce," she said. "Go. Rest in the guestroom. I'll have the maids send up some tea."

Her tone was polite, but distant. Reserved.

I nodded. "Thanks."

"Jayce?"

I paused, halfway out of the car. "Yes?"

She turned, at last, and met my stare. Her eyes were dark, and sad, and tired.

"I'm glad you're safe," she said simply.

Cait, I couldn't say a word. I could barely breathe. I hesitated for just a second, then pulled her across and into my arms. She embraced me, and as soon as I felt her warmth, smelled her perfume, I couldn't stop myself.  The past few weeks—Viktor's departure, the truth of Sky's death, the realization that I'd nearly ruined everything—everything came rushing back.

I broke down.

I was crying, Cait. Crying in her arms. Like a child. She held me. She didn't say anything. Just held me.

I don't deserve her.

I truly don't. But having her close, and knowing she cared, was a lifeline. Since the Siege, it's like I've lost a tiny bit of my reality. My grasp on the world. Every day, it's been a little harder. Then Viktor left, and Sky died, and the pieces of my world started falling apart.

Mel is the one of the few pieces still anchoring me.

I wanted to tell her this, Cait. I wanted to tell her, how much she means to me, and how sorry I was, and how grateful. I wanted to tell her, over and over, that I didn't deserve her, and how, despite it all, I was never going to leave her side.

I didn't, though.

I kissed her.

It wasn't planned. It just... happened. I kissed her. She was still in my arms. We were still in the car. I was still crying.

Then I was kissing her.

She let me, for a little bit. Then she broke, gently, and turned her head. Putting a palm on my chest, she nudged me back.

"No, Jayce."

"Mel..."

"You need to rest. We'll talk, later."

"Mel, I..."

"Later," she said softly.

It wasn't a request.

And so, I let her go. I walked into the penthouse, and was escorted upstairs. But, Cait—it was the loneliest walk of my life. Because I realized why, when I'd kissed her, she'd withdrawn.

Not because it was the wrong time.

Not because I was in shock.

Not because she was mad.

Cait, she's seeing someone else. I can't say how I know. Just that I can sense it. And, the worst part is, I can't blame her. After the way I've treated her—blowing hot, then cold; pushing her away, then pulling her close; accusing her of things she'd never do, then expecting her to help me when the shit hits the fan—it's no surprise she's moved on.

And how can I expect this gorgeous, sophisticated, brilliant woman, with her head screwed on straight, and her heart in the right place, and the courage to speak truth into power, to stick around?

Especially when I'm acting like a spoiled, sulky, immature, selfish asshole.

She's better off.

But not me.

I've fucked up, Cait. I've hurt people. I've hurt my friends. I've endangered Piltover. All because I've been too caught up in myself. Because I've let my pride run wild.

Because, at the end of the day, maybe I'm still just a boy meddling with things I don't understand.

I think it's time that boy grew up.

It's time he made the world a better place.

P.S.

This will be my last correspondence for a little while. I'll be going upcity to my mother's place.  I've got a few projects in mind, and if I'm going to be under house-arrest, might as well put my time to good use.

Before I go, though, I want to thank you.

For your support. Your honesty. Your friendship.

For everything.

Cait, you're the best.

Your friend, always,

Jayce

*

 To Jayce Talis, Esq.

Sir,

You will oblige me to ask the following: Are you out of your fucking mind?

First, you attack the First Chancellor in plain view of half the Council. Then, you decide it would be a good idea to traipse across the border, unescorted and armed with Hex-tech, without a notarized travel pass. Then, not satisfied with having broken one law, you have the gall to threaten one of our citizens—our brightest minds—with abduction and bodily harm. Then you injure two blackguards, and thereby put yourself, and the integrity of the Peace Treaty, at risk.

Now, you have the balls to write to me—demanding an audience with the First Chancellor, once your house-arrest has expired.

Your arrogance knows no bounds.

Read carefully, sir. Because I will only say this once:

No.

No, you will not have an audience with the First Chancellor. No, we will not divulge the address of the Machinist, Viktor. No, we will not disclose blackguard Violet's current location. And no, you will not be given leave to enter the Fissures, unsupervised and with your hammer.

That is final.

Your last letter, demanding a 'sit-down' (you have, evidently, been reading too many tabloids) is not only a grave presumption. It is also a threat against the integrity of this office. Your future letters, from here on out, will be marked as "Return to Sender." The prior ones, we've already compiled and forwarded to the Council, who have assured us will investigate.

I trust they will take the proper disciplinary actions.

Janna knows, you deserve a slap on the rear. A hard one.

Given your tenure as a former Councilor, we are prepared to show a degree of leniency. You are a prominent figure in the public eye. We recognize the emotional impact of your mentor, Dr. Heimerdinger's, passing. We also know that you have suffered the loss of Viktor's partnership, and are under intense strain in your private life. 

In light of these facts, the First Chancellor has agreed to overlook your invective. We will not press charges, and will not seek punitive action, so long as you cease any and all communication with the First Chancellor. You are also instructed to desist any further inquiries into the whereabouts of the Hexcore.

If you continue to persist in your obstinate line of inquiry, the First Chancellor will no longer be inclined to clemency. You will find yourself facing multiple felony charges, which may carry a term of imprisonment.

Consider carefully.

The Man of Tomorrow, Piltover's brightest mind, would look pretty dim in a prison jumpsuit.

Kindly refrain from further correspondence. Unless it’s in the form of an apology. A similar letter of warning has been forwarded to Enforcer Caitlyn Kiramman. In light of your close personal relationship, we request you relay the message next time you meet.

Regards,

Sevika M.

P.S.

The First Chancellor has also requested we share the following message:

"The boy's letters are charmingly feisty. The girl's, surpassingly eloquent. I am delighted to know that two such exceptional individuals are among our neighbors. My only regret is that they spend more time throwing rocks, and less time building bridges."

"When their aim improves, they will be welcome to visit. Until then, they are advised to keep their distance."

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo #arcane jinx #jinx #arcane viktor #viktor #arcane jayce #jayce talis #arcane caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman #arcane mel #mel medarda #arcane sky #sky young #meljay #mel x jayce #jayvik #jayce x viktor #arcane vi #vi #caitvi #violyn #caitlyn x vi #vi x caitlyn #arcane zaun #arcane piltover

[laurenkmyers]

Summary:

a sweet little smut fic highlighting Chen Yi's possessiveness and the ensuing chaos of navigating his relationship with Ai Di. ao3

Chen Yi knows Ai Di is a jealous person.

Every instance where Boss rings and Chen Yi instinctually picks up on the first ring is always accompanied with Ai Di’s face screwing up as he mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like an insult thrown in his direction. But what Ai Di doesn’t realise is that it’s entirely reflex. If I ring, you pick up has been drilled into his life since he joined the Chen family. It’s not going to stop overnight, no matter how much Ai Di wishes it would.

But Chen Yi now at least understands why Ai Di acts this way. He understands a little too well what Ai Di’s jealousy looks like, a deep-rooted fear of abandonment and a life of yearning for something he never thought he’d ever get takes its toll. But Chen Yi does everything in his power to make up for the feelings he knows Ai Di tries and fails to hide from him.

What Chen Yi can’t seem to comprehend though is his own jealousy. He never thought of himself as a jealous man. A little possessive, maybe, but never jealous.

Recently, however, he seems to have pushed those limits to the brink. 

He always knew he hated Ai Di’s insistence on running that goddamn bar, and now that he owns it he’s there more often than he’s not, and that wouldn’t be an issue if Chen Yi wasn’t also hyperconscious of Ai Di’s history with the men who frequent his bar. 

Chen Yi was always privy to the way Ai Di slept around, even more aware of the way that used to feel like a punch to the gut each time he’d witness another man’s tongue in Ai Di’s mouth. But he never let himself think too deeply on why it made him feel that way, it was simply easier to brush it under the rug and let the knot unfurl in his stomach the moment Ai Di returned to him. Because he always did return. 

Ai Di never stayed the whole night at his hook ups, no matter what time of the night it was, he would always return home to Chen Yi, and the routine was always the same. He’d open Chen Yi’s bedroom door and linger for a moment before heading to his own room. 

On those kinds of evenings Chen Yi got into the habit of leaving his door ajar, though he never really knew why at the time, other than the thought of it bringing Ai Di a sense of comfort and that was usually his top priority. He now knows that it had become a comfort to him too, knowing his boy had come back to him. 

Now that Ai Di belongs to him in every way, it’s increasingly harder to ignore the way hungry eyes linger on his boy. Chen Yi knows Ai Di would never stray, and he also knows that the men Ai Di used to fool around with were just meaningless fucks to ease the pain of his yearning when Chen Yi was too stubborn to notice that Ai Di’s heart belonged to him from the very beginning. 

Thankfully, Chen Yi isn’t the asshole breaking Ai Di’s heart anymore, he’s the one who gets to look after it. And despite the fact he’s staked his claim with matching dog tags and the many additions to Ai Di’s rather impressive collection of collars, men still think they can look and occasionally touch what doesn’t belong to them. 

It drives Chen Yi to the point of literal insanity. 

Tonight is no different. 

When Chen Yi arrives at the bar just after 2am it's to a visual of Ai Di dancing next to some faceless man who can't seem to keep his goddamn hands to himself. Chen Yi’s immediate response to seeing another man’s hands on Ai Di, innocent or not, is normally to haul ass over there and pull Ai Di back where he belongs, but for some reason he’s rooted to the spot, watching the gentle grind of Ai Di’s hips as they sway to the beat of the song. Chen Yi is stuck, mesmerised by the way his boy moves his tiny body, the lazy smile that graces his face, the slow trace of his hands as they make their way over his head. 

Chen Yi may have been late in distinguishing his complicated feelings for the boss and the way they differ from the way he’d convinced himself he felt for Ai Di, but one thing that was never complicated was the way he always had his eyes on Ai Di. Never letting him sway too far away, and when it did inevitably reach a point where Ai Di slipped from his line of sight, he always made it everyone’s fucking business. Rounding up the troops to find Ai Di.

Now is no different, but the implications behind his possessive thoughts are much clearer and far less innocent than they once pretended to be. Especially in moments like this, as Chen Yi’s hungry eyes latch on to a single drop of sweat as it slides caressingly down Ai Di’s collared neck.

Chen Yi openly watches its descent until it eventually tucks itself neatly into the piece wrapped lovingly around Ai Di’s throat and when the fog finally settles at its destination Chen Yi’s entire body betrays him. His head fills with cotton and a choked breath escapes his lungs and forces it way out of his lips as the burning inferno inside him ramps up to its highest setting. 

He’s now aware only of the sweat dripping down his own neck in response and he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the realisation that Ai Di is wearing his most recently acquired collar. 

The collar Chen Yi gifted him for their joint birthday. 

The collar that was meant to be worn only in the privacy of their bedroom. 

The collar with the words ‘Boss Chen Yi’ engraved into the heart of the leather. 

Chen Yi’s traitorous cock twitches painfully in his pants as he realises the implications of Ai Di’s choice in collar for this evening. 

The possessiveness claws at his insides like a feral beast. 

Chen Yi is fighting for his life. 

But all too suddenly the moment shifts, twisting into something ugly and dark as the brainless oaf, who’d been nothing but an afterthought in Chen Yi’s horned-up mind, decides to put his filthy lips on Ai Di’s body. 

And something inside Chen Yi snaps.

Desperation and possessive rage liquify the cotton into something brittle and jagged and suddenly all Chen Yi is able to process is the most painful way he can kill a man with his bare hands.  

With those thoughts in mind, Chen Yi storms the crowd of scantily clad boys and men, who part on instinct, the way prey scatters whilst being hunted in the wild, and it leaves his path so spectacularly clear that it’s a shock even to him how easy his target just became. 

The force of impact upon landing, plus Ai Di’s impulsive nature, already with half a retort in his mouth, forces the boy to swing round just in time to catch the full scope of Chen Yi’s rage as he pummels the pathetic excuse of a man to the ground. Chen Yi’s fist flies back and forth as blood splatters across his knuckles. 

Blinded by pure instinct alone, Chen Yi hears nothing over the sound of his fist connecting with soft flesh, and the satisfying crunch of bone. He pulls back one final time when other sounds pop back into the scope of his brain and halt him in his track.

Ai Di’s voice calling his name is all it takes for Chen Yi to stop, the rage slowly  dissipates and the world shifts back into focus. All he knows now is the fire in Ai Di’s eyes as he drags Chen Yi’s face to look at him and the soft words that follow, “Take me home.” 

Home, yeah, great fucking idea. 

Chen Yi doesn’t know how they make it out of the club or how they make it back to their bedroom, but what he does know is the taste of Ai Di on his tongue as he laps at the sweat still sitting beneath his collar before moving up to devour is boys mouth with teeth and tongue. 

“Christ, Chen Yi- what’s gotten into you?” Ai Di moans into the kiss, already half hard and desperate as he rips his lips away to bare his neck once more for Chen Yi’s needy tongue. 

Chen Yi can hardly focus on words when actions are a much more effective way of getting his point across, but he does manage to choke out a forceful ‘mine’ which has Ai Di grabbing his hair by the fistful and responding with a smug, “Yeah Boss, all yours.”

Which only furthers Chen Yi’s spiralling thoughts to consume and mark and bite as he drops to his knees, latches onto the neckline of Ai Di’s shirt and tears it clean in half. 

Ai Di huffs out his frustrations about his ruined shirt, but the throaty little whine he releases as Chen Yi bites down on his nipple masks any real threat in his voice. Chen Yi smirks around the bud as he feels the shudder run down Ai Di’s entire body. Chen Yi doesn’t stop, leaving his marks all over Ai Di’s chest, but working a particularly nasty twin pair along the collarbone and hip bone, his favourite places on Ai Di’s body. Only then does he pull back to admire his work. 

Ai Di is now fully hard in front of him, tenting in his pants and Chen Yi wants nothing more than to get his mouth back on his boy, so he does, mouthing hotly at the wet patch already forming on Ai Di’s red cargo pants before stripping him and getting his mouth where he really wants it, wrapped tightly around the head of Ai Di’s weeping cock. 

The sweet little noises and elongated utterances in english of ‘please’ and ‘fuck’ from Ai Di settle something dark in Chen Yi’s gut. He lets himself fall under Ai Di’s spell even further when he opens his throat and lets his boy take what he needs. Chen Yi chokes around a moan on a particularly deep thrust and when he surprises Ai Di with a soft caress across his neglected rim Ai Di’s legs buckle. 

Fully aware of the effect he’s having, Chen Yi pulls off and catches him before he hits the ground. Chen Yi never lets him fall.  

Ai Di barely notices the change as he’s hauled into Chen Yi’s arms and thrown down onto the bed. But the little shit does bare his neck again, purposefully bringing attention to the goddamn strip of leather that started all of this. 

“I see you like your new present.” Chen Yi smiles, tapping at his own throat like Ai Di isn’t aware of exactly what he’s talking about. 

“I do.” Ai Di purrs. “Shame it didn’t work though.” He pouts, thumbing the metal ring next to Chen Yi’s name and tugging it menacingly. “Men still think they have the right to touch me, Boss. What’re you gonna do about it? As hot as that display back at the bar was, you can’t beat them all to death.”  

Chen Yi growls and yanks Ai Di’s cargo pants and boxers clean off. 

“Watch me.” He says fiercely as he spreads Ai Di’s legs and tries to dive between them, but Ai Di’s reflexes have always been faster. He chuckles darkly and stops Chen Yi’s descent with a tiny, but powerful foot in the middle of his chest. 

“Ah ah ah- take it easy, Boss.”

Chen Yi tries to evade him, ignoring his plea as he goes to grab the leg attached to the foot currently halting him in his place, but as he does Ai Di launches him backwards with a forceful shove. 

“Before you touch me, I need something from you.” 

“Ai Di…” Chen Yi whines as he makes to step forward one more time, but Ai Di shuffles himself further up the bed out of reach. 

“Be good, Chen Yi.” He says as he settles himself on his knees amongst the mountain of pillows. “I’m yours, always have been. So I’m gonna need you to show me.” 

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Chen Yi groans. 

“Not with your cock, Yi. I need you to own me. I need those men at the bar, and any man who dares to look in my direction from here on out to know, explicitly, who I belong to. The collars are pretty, but they aren’t enough.”

Chen Yi’s frustration at the truth behind Ai Di’s words burn him to his very core. He wants the same thing, but what more can he possibly do than kill every single man who tries to touch what belongs to him? 

“Tell me what you need.” He says darkly. 

Chen Yi watches through half-lidded eyes as Ai Di squirms, slowly pumping his tiny fist up and down his still spit-slicked cock. Impatient little thing thrusts into his own fist and sighs. But in his distraction Ai Di has pulled something shiny from behind his back and dangles it in front of himself. It takes a minute for Chen Yi to realise what it is he’s seeing, but when he does his eyes widen. 

“You want me to-?”

“-I want them to know, Chen Yi.” 

Ai Di attaches the metal leash onto the ring at the front of his collar and offers the other end in Chen Yi’s direction. “I need you to own me.” He repeats the sentiment from earlier. 

Chen Yi’s entire body burns with need. His hands tremble as he reaches out to grab the end of the leash being offered by his good boy. He yanks on it to test its strength and Ai Di lets out the most delicious sound that goes straight to his cock. 

“God, Ai Di- this is-”

“-what I want, Chen Yi.” 

Chen Yi nods in agreement and tugs once more on the leash. 

Ai Di’s eyes haze over as a result and he follows blindly, flopping forward onto his hands and knees and crawls, closing the remaining distance, and showing his appreciation by nuzzling his face against Chen Yi’s still covered cock. 

“Need you.” Ai Di sobs after lapping too long at the rapidly staining fabric. “Need your cock now.”

Chen Yi wraps the metal chain around his palm a few times to shorten the length and then uses its remaining rigidity to tug Ai Di away from his cock as he slowly bends to Ai Di’s level and whispers, “I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby.” 

Ai Di’s responding shiver sends him mad with lust. 

Chen Yi uses the leash to force Ai Di onto his knees in a deep arch, with his ass in the air. He takes a moment to watch as Ai Di sinks into the mattress, panting into the sheets as he uses both hands to present himself just for Chen Yi. 

The vision alone has Chen Yi biting his lip hard enough to taste the all too familiar metallic tang as blood fills his mouth. It shouldn’t, but it still shocks him sometimes how willing Ai Di is to bare himself so brazenly for him. 

He knows it’s his own goddamn fault, but it still irks him to think about the fact that he wasn’t the first, second, or even third person to have the privilege of making a home in Ai Di’s sweet little body, but what does bring a small iota of comfort is the knowledge that his boy has never submitted the way he does when he’s with Chen Yi. 

Ai Di has always been his feral kitten by nature; full of fire and violence and destruction, who only ever turns soft and sweet and submissive when he’s got Chen Yi’s cock buried in his ass. And that beautiful submission reveals the truth of Ai Di’s loyalty. Chen Yi is, and will always be, the only one who ever gets to see Ai Di this way. He won’t ever take it for granted again, and he’ll spend the rest of their lives together proving it. 

Chen Yi makes quick work of lubing up his fingers before trailing the tip of one against Ai Di’s fluttering hole. Ai Di arches further into the touch, hissing at him to ‘stop teasing and hurry the fuck up’. Ai Di never has to beg twice for anything. But because he’s being such an impatient little shit Chen Yi decides to show him who’s really in charge by yanking the leash harsher this time.

“Greedy boys get what I give them.” 

But despite his own authority, Chen Yi knows he never truly denies Ai Di anything anymore so without thinking too deeply into why that is he pushes one long digit all the way in, curling his finger with pinpoint accuracy right against Ai Di’s sweet spot. The responding cry tells him everything he needs to know to continue pumping with one, two, three fingers until Ai Di is a writhing mass of soft limbs beneath him, crying desperately into the mattress as Chen Yi forces him past the point of climax, toppling him straight into hysteria. 

As much as Chen Yi enjoys making an absolute mess of his boy, he hates not being able to see the ruin for himself, so with a practised ease he flips Ai Di onto his back and laps at the remaining liquid splattered across Ai Di’s torso with a deep hum of appreciation. Using Ai Di’s distraction he strips himself, and begins fisting his own cock a few times to try and calm the deep seated hunger he feels brewing in his belly. 

Still pumping his cock, Chen Yi watches carefully as Ai Di slowly makes his return to the surface with a soft smile and groggy eyes and when Ai Di blinks up at him in semi-awareness Chen Yi chuckles softly, releasing himself in favour of Ai Di’s attention and asks, “You back with me?” 

Only when Ai Di nods back does he then ask, “think you can take more?” with a soft pat against Ai Di’s ass. 

Ai Di scoffs, “One orgasm isn’t going to take me out. Barely felt it, actually.” The little shit giggles and then makes a grab for Chen Yi, pulling him flush between his spread legs until he’s using the new found, post-orgasm strength to switch their positions so that he’s now straddling Chen Yi, hovering menacingly over Chen Yi’s painfully neglected cock. 

“Think you can take me riding this thing,” he fists Chen Yi’s cock in his tiny hand and flicks the head over his slickened hole once before releasing him to grab the leash still attached to his neck and pushing it into Chen Yi’s open mouth, “while you choke me with that thing?” 

Chen Yi spits out the looped leather end and once again wraps the remaining metal chain tightly around his palm before he drags Ai Di’s lips onto his own. They both sink into the kiss, ripping into the core of one another as they lick and suck and bite and allow each other to take and take and take. The kiss leaves them both breathless and when they do have to pull away, they don’t go far, stealing breath from each other’s lungs as they pant into one another’s mouths. But the need is too great, and their magnetism pulls them back together again and again until Chen Yi uses the chain to haul Ai Di away, though it pains him to do so. But he’s literally on the precipice of release, and the fear of coming too soon brings him back to reality. 

“Fuck.” Chen Yi breathes, “Need a minute, Di. Don’t wanna come until I’m inside you.” 

Ai Di whines and impatiently grinds down on his cock, “Then get to it, Boss. Want you to fill me up.” 

Chen Yi  groans, burying his head in the crease of Ai Di’s neck and mumbles into his collarbone, “Stop saying shit like that or I’ll blow my load right now.” 

In moments like this Chen Yi has to hand it to Ai Di, when he wants something, there is no one in this fucking world that’s going to stop him. And so, without warning Ai Di pulls Chen Yi’s head out of his shoulder, arches his back, expertly reaches around to find Chen Yi’s cock and sinks down on it in one fell swoop. 

Chen Yi barely has time to process a single second of what’s just happened until he’s literally buried balls deep in Ai Di’s ass. And when his brain eventually catches up to his cock, he can only throw his head back and cry out in pure fucking bliss.  

“Jesus fucking christ, Ai Di!” Chen Yi bellows as Ai Di starts bouncing his perfect little ass up and down at a pace that would be considered psychotic to anyone other than Ai Di. 

The crazy fucking psychopath, giddy as ever, fucks himself on Chen Yi’s cock like it was made just for him and it forces Chen Yi to lie back and let him taketaketake until they’re both satisfied, but a small part of his brain reminds him that he knows Ai Di and the residing chaos that follows his boy sometimes needs to right kind of taming. 

With that knowledge he’s looping his finger into the metal ring of Ai Di’s collar and pulling. Hard. The immediate effect sends Ai Di hurtling toward subspace, his greedy hole doesn’t stop taking, but the bouncing slows into a dirty grind, which makes Chen Yi twitch inside him, but he’s focussed now, and he desperately wants Ai Di’s full submission.

“Good boy.” Chen Yi croons, “Taking me so well.” 

Ai Di swoons at the praise, but Chen Yi knows he’s not entirely in his own head right now, can see it in the way Ai Di’s eyes have lost focus, can feel it in the way his limbs have loosened, and all the tension in his shoulders, his thighs, his arms, have gone as he lets Chen Yi take full control of his pleasure. 

Chen Yi smiles in open adoration of the trust Ai Di has given him. “Gonna take care of you, Di. Give you what you need.” 

Though he doesn’t pull on the leash again, Chen Yi does fit his entire palm under the collar and gives Ai Di’s neck a squeeze, watching the way Ai Di falls completely under as his eyes roll back into his head. 

Chen Yi keeps a soft, but steady pace as he fucks up into his boy, angling himself until he hears incoherent babbles from Ai Di that let him know he’s hit his mark, and only when the noises reach a fever pitch does he flip the pair of them so he can begin thrusting brutally into Ai Di to bring him to the brink of his bodies pleasure. 

Well versed by now in the exact tone of Ai Di’s pleas when he’s close Chen Yi buries himself deeper, and squeezes a little bit harder until Ai Di’s eyes fly open. Chen Yi doesn’t dare stop, but he basks in the moment Ai Di topples head first into the abyss.  

It doesn’t take much for him to follow suit. The tight vice of Ai Di’s warmth sends him spiralling into his own. 

When Chen Yi regains the baser functions of his body and brain he lifts his head from Ai Di’s neck with a trail of soft kisses and lets the sweet words spill from his lips as he tries to coax Ai Di back up. 

“Come back to me, Di. Open your eyes, baby.” He whispers against Ai Di’s cheek, as he wipes away the tears that fell sometime during their peak. 

Eventually, the coaxing starts to take effect and Ai Di shifts, his breath evens out, and slowly his eyes flutter open. They’re still dopey and glazed, but there’s a sense of awareness creeping back in that makes Chen Yi beam with pride. 

“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you. You did so well.” 

Still unable to produce actual words, Ai Di hums his affections back, a sign that he’s almost fully resurfaced. 

Chen Yi stays inside Ai Di for as long as he can, having learnt from previous experience how vital it is to Ai Di in this vulnerable state to have Chen Yi as close as humanly possible. Because as much as they both know Chen Yi won’t ever leave, Ai Di’s brain, especially in this state of flux, likes to trick him into thinking he’s not worthy of love.

So Chen Yi stays- exactly where he belongs- for as long as he can. 

And when Ai Di finally returns, it’s with his usual sass and resuming chaos. 

“So, Boss, when are you going to parade me and my new leash around for all the boys to see.” 

Chen Yi wouldn’t have him any other way. 

#kiseki: dear to me #kiseki #ai di x chen yi #chenai #louis x nat #kiseki dear to me #smut #fanfic #i wrote a thing #because the severe lack of fics made me depressed #enjoy #i love comments 😏😏