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otakubimbo · 3 months

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Fake Love, Fake Rage

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!Reader

Contents: Yelling. Anger. Cussing. Mentions of fake dating. Angst. Mean Miguel. Miguel who can't talk about his feelings. Harassment. Unresolved argument.

You didn't think your life would turn out like this. What's the problem with a little white lie anyways? Miguel had a huge problem with that little lie.

Sticky Note: This is part 1 of 2, there will be a happy ending but let's get some angst in the meantime <3. Not proof read, if I missed any content warnings let me know. K. Thanks. Mwah.

Masterlist

Nothing could have prepared Miguel for the words that were going to come out of Jessica’s mouth that afternoon.

“So, you finally confessed to her, huh? About time.” Jessica says as she drops a stack of reports on his desk. He immediately looks up with an irritated confused grunt.

“What are you talking about?” He questions picking up the papers she just put down, turning his attention to that instead of her.

“You and Y/N are finally dating. It’s the word around the society.” She huffs, a smile painted on her face as Miguel's head snaps up and he stares at her wide-eyed.

“Que carajo? We are not dating. Who the hell is saying that?” He questions, eyes glowing red as his face heats up at the thought. Well yes, the two of you were close, as close as someone could be to Miguel, but dating? No, absolutely not. Of course, he’s thought about it. You had a genius that rivaled his own, you were beautiful, talented, competent, serious but funny. Miguel shook his head at the thoughts.

“Everyone’s saying that she said it. That’s why I thought you finally confessed your feelings for her.” Jessica shrugged casually, mildly amused at this.

“I do not have feelings for her.” He grumbles standing up from his desk to find you and ‘fix this’. Both Jessica and Lyla exchange looks at each other as he storms out of his own lab to yours, the one he personally built for you because he doesn’t have feelings for you. He absolutely has feelings for you.

As he makes his way to your lab, he can hear all the whispers of people about the two of you dating. Mostly people are shocked but can see it with the amount of time the two of you spend together and the things he does for you. There are some whispers about how you’re obviously too good for him and how he could ever convince you to date him with his personality. But he already knew that he already knew that you were too good for him. All of this just made him angrier as he neared your lab. You could feel him before you saw him, without the need for your spidey senses.

“Yes O’Hara?” You question, not even looking up from your task of working on a watch as Miles holds a light for you and Hobie is handing you tools. You, of course, could do these tasks by yourself but you enjoyed their company.

“Why the hell are you going around telling people we are dating?!” He barks at you; you still don’t lift your head from your work.

“Tone, O’Hara.” Is your response that makes his nostrils flair. He takes a deep breath; he knows your stubbornness will not allow you to communicate with him if he’s yelling at you. You made that very clear in the early stages of your ‘friendship’. Miles looks back and forth between you and Miguel while Hobie looks amused as usual. You had already told Hobie the incident that brought upon Miguel being in your office right now and he told you Miguel would be pissed.

“Why are you lying to people saying we are dating?” He asked in a calmer tone which surprised Miles, he’s never heard him speak so calmly but of course, this was usually reserved for spaces when it was just the two of you.

“Ben Riley wouldn’t take no for an answer, so instead of making him lose his teeth I told him we were dating.” You say nonchalantly still not looking at him.

“So, are yall dating?” Miles quietly asks more to you than to Miguel.

“We are not. Now hold still so I can finish these modifications.” You respond shifting his hand back in place.

“You would be lucky mate to even fake date her. She is one of the most fit spider women around.” Hobie jokes which just makes you roll your eyes.

“Everyone out!” Miguel growls at Hobie and Miles, now you finally lift your head to scowl at him.

“This is MY lab, O’Hara. You can’t just command them out during the middle of my work.” You huff, eyes narrowed at him. You and Miguel glare at each other.

“Ooof” Hobie huffs as he stands up from the desk behind you, putting your tools back. “Let’s leave the lovers to quarrel alone, mate.”

Miles nervously puts your light down while Miguel glares at them as they leave the two of you alone. The two of them didn’t even get out of earshot before you started yelling at Miguel.

“You think we should of just left?” Miles asks, worried about you.

“Oi, yeah absolutely nothing worse than getting in-between a couple's fight.” Hobie says as he casually puts his hands in his pockets.

“But she said they weren’t dating.” Miles looks confused.

“Yet”

At this point, you were truly heated at what his problem was. He could simply just deny that you two were a couple, there was no need to storm into your lab when you were in the middle of working.

“Miguel, I’m seriously too busy to do this right now. If you want me to be able to go on any missions, I need to work on this.” You gesture at your exposed watch on your desk.

“You’re the one who’s going around telling everyone we are dating because you can’t just reject someone.” He snaps back, towering over you. You roll your eyes deciding to just ignore him and get back to your watch.

“I told you; he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and you’ve been clear about spider-on-spider violence.” You respond with a roll of your eyes, whispering how he’s a hypocrite for the whole Miles situation. Miguel aggressively rakes his fingers through his hair, eyes going a light red annoyed with your instance that you weren’t in the wrong.

“And now, I’ll be getting back to work.” You say now having to adjust your stuff since your help was told to get out.

“You do realize what people are saying right?!” He grunts as his hand slams on your workstation.

“If it’s really that bad for people to think we are dating then just simply tell everyone we aren’t. I really don’t care that much truthfully; I just said the first thing that came to mind.” You don’t even acknowledge his tantrum anymore, tools in hand going back to your watch.

“Seriously?” He asked, his tone is different than before, it sounded saddened? That makes you look up at him, and really look at him. His brows were furrowed, and his teeth were clenched but there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t understand.

“What’s actually wrong, Mig?” Your voice was soft, gentle, the voice you only used when he was in one of his moods which seems like right now. Your eyes gazed upon him in worry and concern for him. He hated that. He hated seeing everything fade from around you, that all he could see was you. Your lips pressed together, plump and soft, your eyes shining at him as if he was the only important thing right then, the nickname you gave him falling off your lips making his pulse pick up. He almost let himself get caught in that until the voices of the other spiders played in his head, what Hobbie said played in his head, he was no where close good enough for you, he would never be. You deserve something better than the monster that he is. He breathes out curses in Spanish as he grows more frustrated with everything, mainly himself.

“Mig, you know I haven’t taken those Spanish classes yet. What is going on?” You ask even more gently than the last time, you could tell it was more than you pretending to date him. There was something else, something he wasn’t telling you. “Talk to me, you know you always can.” You say when you don’t get a response from him.

You reach out to touch him, like you always do when he gets too into his own head. He pulls back quickly, scowling at you.

“Have you ever thought about keeping me out of your shocking business? This stupid fake dating shit. And of course, people believe it because you’re always forcing yourself around me. I don’t want to be in any of your stupid drama, for shocks sake. Leave me out of your shit. Have you ever thought that shit was annoying? Because it is, it’s annoying and pointless. You’re here to do your job and that’s shocking it. ” He spits at you and your eyes go wide.

He’s never spoken to you like this before. Yeah, he had a temper and could even get frustrated with you but you thought maybe it was different between the two of you. The conversations you’ve had, all the time you’ve spent with just the two of you. You thought you were at the very least friends. You could feel your eyes starting to burn, but you refused to cry, especially in front of him. You grab your deconstructed watch and all your things in grabbing distance.

“Fuck you, Miguel” you say as you shove your way past him. He fucked up, he knew he did so he let you walk off. Hoping you could calm down enough to let him speak to you again, but he didn’t know when that would be. He saw the tears starting to form in your eyes when you pushed past him, he heard the crack in your voice, but he said nothing to stop you. No apology, no explanation, nothing.

When you left your lab, you went directly to Spider Byte, your watch wasn’t working currently since you took it apart and you just wanted to go home. You hadn’t started crying yet but she could see something was wrong when you walked up to her.

“Hey Margo, my watch is kind of out of commission right now. Can you get me home?” You ask breathy, your chest tight in an effort to keep your composure.

“Of course, girl but are you good?” she asks, concern written all over her face. You wave her off dismissively.

“Yeah, I just got some stuff to take care of at home. I’m good. I’m good.” You say through your gritted teeth, hoping she would drop it and she does, going into start to bring up your home universe.

“So, you and Miguel?” She questions, an eye looking up at you hoping this wasn’t your problem.

You take in a deep breath, “There’s definitely no me and Miguel, absolutely not. That was just a lie I came up with to get Riley off my case ya know.” You respond trying to keep your voice steady and reassuring.

“Yeah, yeah I get ya.” She replies, dropping that topic also as she pulls up a portal to your universe. “Thanks, Margo, I’ll catch you later.” You say stepping into the portable before she could even reply. And that was the last time anyone had seen you.

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bunnighost · 3 months

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#unresolved romantic tension #unrequited crush

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wangxianficrecs · 6 months

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At the end of all things by Entityx

At the end of all things

by Entityx

M, 6k, Wangxian

Part of the MDZS Mini Remix for Tired Adults™

Summary: Lan Wangji is aware that he is not the only one who is left haunted by constant bloodshed. Everyone has changed over the course of the Sunshot Campaign. However the one who underwent the most drastic change was undeniable. It's subtle- he's still friendly and boisterous with members of his sect. But he is not truly open anymore. Gone is the optimistic boy who radiated sincerity with every word. Instead he is replaced with a hollow imitation, with a smile cracked at the edges, and a laugh that is too hollow to fool anyone. Kay's comments: Sunshot Era Wangxian who are constantly at each other's throats has so much potential, especially if it escalates to them actually fighting and that ending up in a golden core reveal and this fic delivered on all of that and much more. The first half is incredibly dark and angsty, showing the reality of Lan Wangji's life in the war and the second half treats us to Wangxian first fighting and then slowly growing closer as the revelations hit. A really great story! Excerpt: Wei Ying grins, "Lan Zhan! Come, take a seat!" He shifts over on the log he had been sitting on, patting the empty space next to him. Briefly, Lan Wangji wonders how someone can have a smile so welcoming even whilst wearing robes stained with blood. He carefully seats himself beside Wei Ying, careful not to let his robes touch the mud. The slight contact of their shoulders brushing against each other puts him on edge; this is the closest he has physically been to the other man in a very long time. "Lan Zhan! What are you doing here? Don't tell me you missed me," Wei Ying teases. "I was walking nearby and I saw smoke. I thought there was trouble." He can't stop the frustration from seeping into his voice. I thought you were in danger. Wei Ying's smile falls, and he puts down the jar of wine he was cheerfully swinging just moments ago. "Ah, I didn't realize…" "Wei Ying, what were you thinking- starting a fire this close to enemy territory?" He is careful not to raise his voice- but it doesn't matter. The second the words leave his lips he realizes that they sound accusative, and he knows he's made a mistake. The other man's eyes flash red. "Fuck I forgot about the stupid rule okay? We were just trying to have fun." The other Jiang cultivators, even as drunk as they are- are beginning to look uncomfortable. They glance at each other uneasily, once, twice and ultimately walk away. Wisely, or perhaps rudely- they do not stick around to say goodbye to their senior.

pov lan wangji, canon divergence, sunshot campaign, angst and hurt/comfort, war, nightmares, mental health issues, wei wuxian has ptsd, wei wuxian's three months in the burial mounds, golden core reveal, miscommunication, unresolved romantic tension, hopefuly ending

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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densi-mber · 4 months

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We Swear It’s Not Real

A/N: Thanks to @mashmaiden for the scenario! Set at the end of season 7, but AU in that Kensi and Deeks are not already together.

***

“Ok, so I think that should be the last thing until the actual wedding,” Kensi announced, double checking the expansive color-coded list placed in front of her.

“Sweet.” Deeks peered over her shoulder on the way to Kensi’s fridge. “Wait, was there always a dove release on the itinerary?”

“Yep.” Kensi made a face. “Kat says it’s regal.”

“I could debate that, but it would be futile,” Deeks said. He came back from the fridge with a bucket of cut fruit, and offered it to Kensi. “Did I tell you Kip has some extra tickets for next weekend? You want to go?”

“Oh no, we can’t go then. We’ve got Kat’s wine tasting on Saturday,” Kensi reminded him. “Sorry.”

“Right,” Deeks sighed, like it was perfectly reasonable. “I didn’t realize that wine tastings were a part of wedding preparation. And requires the entire wedding party.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s just a Kat thing.” Kensi paused to roll her eyes. “You know how over-the-top she is.”

“Oh, I know. The the whole show ponies thing was kind of a clue.”

Deeks smiled, sending a quick text to Kip.

Pretending to be Kensi’s date to Kat’s wedding had seemed easy enough when she first presented the idea. Given her chronically terrible dating history, she hadn’t felt like explaining the complete absence of a plus-one at any of Kat’s events. Or worse, be set up with every available male by her well-meaning friends.

Deeks wasn’t exactly entangled himself, so after a very small amount of consideration, he’d agreed to be Kensi’s fake date for Kat’s wedding season. He’d even thought it might be fun, and certainly would give him ample reasons to tease Kensi.

What he hadn’t anticipated was just how much time they’d spend together, pretending to be a couple. It was their undercover roles as Melissa and Justin on overdrive. Because as ridiculous as it sounded, Kat, Mindy, Mandy, Tiffany, and Tiffani scrutinized them far more intensely than any Russian spies ever could. If they were holding hands, kissing, and just generally exuding an air of absolute bliss, one of the girls noticed.

The hardest part though, was pretending that he didn’t enjoy it. He enjoyed every kiss, snuggle, dance, or moment when he got hold her hand. It made him feel like he was cheating, even though Kensi encouraged it.

It was an awful kind of torture. One he kept coming back for more over and over again.

***

They ate dinner together, which seemed an increasingly regular occurrence neither of them bothered to question. Tonight, Deeks threw together a stir fry and rice; since he’d started coming over more frequently, Kensi’s kitchen stayed better stocked.

“Thanks for cooking and cleaning,” Kensi said from her position at the table. He’d gladly have cleaned a thousand dishes then deal with sorting through the pile of invitations in front of her. Though he’d probably end up helping out anyway.

“No problem. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, leaning in to kiss Kensi before he headed for the door. It wasn’t until he was halfway down sidewalk that he realized what he’d done.

He’d kissed Kensi. And it wasn’t under any pretense related to the wedding or a case.

He’d kissed Kensi, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

***

Deeks went into work the next morning with serious misgivings. Kensi hadn’t texted him at all since he left her apartment last night. He debated calling her immediately to apologize, but chickened out and ended up pacing for most of the night.

He walked into the bullpen, still uncertain what to do. Kensk was already sitting at her desk when he entered; she looked up briefly, her expression giving nothing away.

“Hey.”

“Hey. You’re in early,” Deeks noticed, testing the waters. She didn’t seem angry at least. Though maybe she was just waiting for the right moment.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been slacking on paperwork with all the wedding stuff. So, I figured I’d knock it out today before Hetty gives me one of her notes,” she explained, eyes tracking her computer screen as she typed.

“Makes sense.”

Setting his bag on his desk, he logged into his own laptop. Silence settles around them as they both quietly worked. A good 20 minutes passed, and Deeks realized he would need to broach the topic since Kensi clearly wasn’t.

“Hey, um, I’m sorry about what happened last night,” he started, and Kensi frowned. “You know, the uh, the kiss. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Oh.” Kensi shrugged, focusing on the brushing some crumbs off her desk. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Really?” Based on her refusal to look him in the eye, he sincerely doubted that.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s just a habit right? And we’ve kissed so many times by now, that it’s no big deal anymore,” Kensi continued, letting out a nervous chuckle that approached cackle.

“Yeah, no. You’re completely right,” he agreed, and Kensi looked up sharply. “It meant nothing.”

“So no reason to apologize.”

“Exactly.” They stared at each other, neither breaking away until Sam and Callen came in, bantering as usual.

He swore a hint of disappointment flash across Kensi’s face in the second before she turned away again.

***

A/N: In direct contrast to my recent story, Kensi and Deeks apparently have all the time in the world in this fic.

Part 2 to come.

#densimber 7.0 #densimber 2023 #densimber day 19 #ncis la fanfiction #densi #fake dating #marty deeks #kensi blye #unresolved romantic tension #ncis la #by ejzah

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cupidford · 2 months

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Demitasse by oorsprong

Johnlock Love Letters #2333

We found ourselves at Pagani's upon nearly every successful completion of a case in unspoken celebration. At these times Holmes was much more relaxed, but without the preoccupation of his favourite pastime he turned his interest invariably to me.

#jl3 #johnlock #<5k #Unresolved romantic tension #Love confessions #domesticity #domestic fluff #Victorianlock #ACD #mutual pining #dinner #holding hands #hand kissing

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ejzah · 5 months

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Hey there! I have a prompt request if you’re interested. I’m sorry if I’ve already sent it your way. I’m new to fanfiction and you are one of my favorite writers. I catch myself thinking of prompts randomly and questioning if I should send them your way.

I was rewatching S3E7 Honors and I have always wanted to hear more about the talk radio show conversation. I always felt that Deeks deflected way too easily. Would you write a tag either close to canon or completely AU? Whatever inspires you more.

I appreciate that you keep writing for the show. I always look forward to reading your writing.

A/N: Thank you anon! That is so kind of you. Feel free to send me any prompts that you’d like. Just know that I may not always write for every one or it may be some time before I get around to a particular prompt.

***

What If

“So, what did you say?” Kensi asked a few minutes into their drive back to the mission house.

“What?” Deeks shot her a confused look, and she nodded her head, a smirk playing at her lips.

“On the radio show Callen heard you call in to. What did you say?”

Deeks chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, we did not establish that whomever Callen heard was me,” he evaded evenly.

When Callen first brought it up, Deeks had felt a moment of panic. The call had come during a moment of weakness, when he’d been feeling particularly frustrated and lonely. Deep down, he knew the idea was a terrible one, but he convinced himself that no one would ever find out and it would be a good opportunity to unload on someone he’d never have to talk to again.

“Really? A guy who was confessing his deep, dark feelings for his partner?” Kensi said skeptically, slanting a look his way before she smoothly switched lanes.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that would describe a lot of guys in LA.” Deeks shrugged, putting on a thoughtful face. “And I’m not even sure that Callen said he was talking about a female partner.”

“Deeks, as we established this morning, your voice is unique. I would certainly recognize it anywhere.”

It was Deeks’ turn to raise an eyebrow, and he grinned suggestively. “Oh really?”

The side of Kensi’s right cheek bone flushed under his gaze as she scrambled to defend herself.

“I mean, I spend two-thirds of my life with you, to my deep regret. Of course I would recognize your voice,” she said quickly.

“Uh-huh.” He grinned at her discomfort, settling in his seat as he considered her reaction. He’d seen Kensi flustered a few other times like this, but he’d never pursued it beyond a couple jokes.

There was an extended silence where Kensi resolutely stared directly ahead and Deeks watched her out of the corner of his eye.

“So, hypothetically speaking of course, what would you have done if it was me on that radio show?” he asked casually.

It was a few moments before Kensi spoke, having taken the time to pull into her designated parking spot.

“Well, I would say that you can always talk to me. Even though I tease you a lot, if it was something serious, I wouldn’t betray your trust or make fun of you,” she started, expression surprisingly honest as she eyed him. She dipped her head, focusing on her thumbnail, and added, “And you might be surprised by my response, if you did.”

“I would?” Deeks asked softly.

“Maybe. Hypothetically speaking.”

“Yeah, no, of course.” The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he found himself hesitating.

“We would should probably go inside before Hetty comes looking for us,” Kensi said, and the moment was gone. “No matter how much she might like your “idiosyncrasies”, you know she hates late paperwork.”

“Definitely don’t want to make Hetty mad,” he agreed, getting out of the car and falling into step with Kensi. They didn’t speak again as they walked to the door, but he was aware of every brush of their shoulders.

He wondered what would happen if he was just a little braver.

***

A/N: I hope that was ok.

Thanks for the prompt!

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #pre-densi #post honors #unresolved romantic tension #anonymous prompt #ejzah fanfiction

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itlearns · 4 months

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A game of poker

"Do you wanna deal?” He shuffles the deck deftly. It’s mesmerizing in a way.

“I trust you”, you shake your head. Definitely not because you don’t want to look awkward with all the cards sliding out of your hands and falling everywhere.

“Huh. An interesting statement. I expect a fair game from you then.”

“The expectation is mutual”, you respond through your teeth.

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septic-skele · 5 months

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At least it made sense, how you got here; it was Sans’ first time skating (a surprise, considering he grew up in Snowdin—or perhaps not so surprising, considering his HP) and you were so eager to share the new experience with him that you rushed out the door without your jacket.

He slipped, as beginners do, and naturally you caught him—though only just, considering you were shivering so hard you nearly lost your grip. He compensated by grabbing at you in return, reeling you into a clumsy hug to anchor himself.

Once you registered the warmth radiating from his coat, the security of his grip…It made sense, didn’t it, that you wouldn’t want to pull away?

This was fine. This was good! He needed the support. You needed insulation. Friends offered a helping hand. Friends hugged!

Of course, so did—

“You, uh, trying to catch me up on human history?” If Sans sounded a little breathless against your ear, it was probably just the exertion from the near miss. “The Napoleonic era? Cause…huddled up like this, we’re just a Bonaparte.”

Your startled burst of laughter was enough to throw you both flat out on the ice.

#undertale #fanfiction #ficlet #double drabble #sans #x reader #fluff #self indulgent #unresolved romantic tension

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mellybaggins · 15 days

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Kvitravn

Laileth of Waterdeep Series

Baldur’s Writers III Prompt #1 Character A casts a spell that is meant to protect Character B but it backfires, badly. How is tending to them/their wounds handled? Are they angry or forgiving?

Laileth is injured pretty badly during a fight and after she heals Gale takes it upon himself to teach her how to protect herself with a spell. To mixed results.

This takes place early in their budding relationship, when they are still getting to know each other, but there's still definite attraction.

#bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #inspired by music #ao3 #gale dekarios #gale x tav #fluff #forest elf shenanigans #unresolved romantic tension #budding romance #Spotify #mellybaggins #laileth of waterdeep

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walkawaytall · 1 year

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So, here's how this went: I wrote part of a scene that was supposed to end up in Purpose of Heritage, scrapped the idea that would've lead to it but I still liked the scene, so I set out to write a one-shot with the express purpose of using said scene, and ended up with this -- which doesn't use the scene, either. Uh...hope y'all enjoy...whatever this is. We'll call it a character study so I can sound classy.

Summary:

Leia Organa didn’t just have a problem; she had a crush.

Leia could handle a problem. Problems could be solved with logic and careful thought and sometimes a little luck. Problems could be reasoned through. Problems, if they became too overwhelming, could often be set aside for a minute or two while she regained her bearings.

Crushes, though…Leia hadn’t had a crush since she was seventeen, and this current iteration made her feel entirely juvenile.

#star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #leia organa #leia organa fanfic #hanleia #sort of #denial is not just a river in egypt #unresolved romantic tension #fanfiction #ao3 #my fic

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otakubimbo · 2 months

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Fake Love Fake Rage

Part 2!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!Reader

Contents: Yelling, Anger, Cussing, Fake Dating, Angst, Mean Miguel, Insecurity, Emotionally Immature Miguel, Argument, A Bit of Fluff At The End

Everything has gotten worse in the spider society now that you've taken a leave of absence, but are you even coming back? Not without something from Miguel first.

Sticky: Hi, me a known liar. Sorry it took so long for part 2 ya girl as been busy T-T but I hope yall enjoy! I may make a part 3 but who knows I am a known liar after all but you can ask. Mwah <;3 Requests are open btw.

Part 1

Masterlist

For two weeks since your absence, the rumor mills up in full force since your departure. Of course, people heard the truth about you and Miguel, but people also heard the two of you arguing and now with your disappearance people were talking. It didn’t help that Miguel was in a worse mood than usual with your absence. He was grumpier than usual, shouting at anything that anyone did even if it was something successful or useful. Everyone at headquarters was walking on eggshells around him and even that was too loud. Not even Jess, Lyla, or Lego Peter Parker could put him in a better mood.

The whispers in the corridors about your absence infuriated him even more. When were you going to return? Why haven’t you contacted him yet? Why haven’t you contacted anyone yet? Everyone knew better than to ask him about you missing from his side, you are missing from your lab, you are missing from headquarters. If Miguel wasn’t storming around headquarters looking for someone to take his aggression out on, he locked himself away in his lab not daring anyone to interfere with his sulking. If only he would go and apologize to you, all his problems would be solved but he wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to apologize because he wasn’t wrong. Well, yes, he was wrong, but you were the one who started it. You were the one who started the rumors, this was your fault. It had to be your fault, he wouldn’t have had to face the fact that everyone knew that you were too good to be with him, that you were too kind, too smart, too great to be with him. Everyone loved you and he…... and you were the only one he was able to tolerate besides Jess. Your absence was missed by everyone.

Miguel, Hobie, Gwen, and Pav all watched Miguel storm around for those two weeks hoping that you would have returned by now. This wasn’t the first time the two of you have argued but it is the first time you didn’t return to headquarters after a day of cool off period. They were all starting to get worried about you since no one could contact you in your universe since your watch was inactive. It was decided that one of them would have to visit you to check on you and inquire about when you were going to be back to fix things with Miguel.

The first person to visit you in your universe was Miles, the sweet baby angel pacing out in front of your condo awaiting your answer to his call from the door. Miles looks at you sheepishly, “Hey kid, what are you doing here?” You greet him by letting him into your condo.

“I just wanted to check and see if you were okay since you didn’t show up to HQ and no one can reach you.” He said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head not knowing what to say, there wasn’t a plan for his arrival. The gang just assumed once you spoke to Miles that it may just get you to come back, you would hopefully assume that Miguel may have sent him or something. You gave him a tiny laugh, knowing that it was everyone else but him that is reaching on about your wellbeing.

“I’m fine darling, just trying to adjust my watch in peace. Hopefully, it will be able to help everyone when it’s finished.”

‘Everyone’ you said, not ‘us’ but everyone, excluding yourself. You didn’t know if you were going to go back, returning to headquarters was the furthest thing on your mind. Your only focus is making the adjustments and protecting your own universe. You never took anything from Miguel, and you weren’t going to start now. He hurt you, the only person who was patient with him, the only person who gave him the grace that he didn’t deserve, the only person who he thought understood him. You. Miles could feel the pain in your voice, could see it in your eyes but you still held that small smile attempting to reassure him that everything was fine even if it was a lie to him and yourself.

“Well, we all miss you. We all do.” Miles attempts to say the quiet part out loud. That everyone misses you, that Miguel misses you, but there was no way you were going to believe that until you heard it from him.

You give a defeated sigh, “Yeah, I know but work must be done. The multiverse isn’t going to save itself.”

Miles's eyes are kind as you attempt to joke about the situation, he gives you a sad smile nodding at you in understanding. He leaves you to your work and your thoughts. All your thoughts are avoiding thinking about that one thing, that one person. Your heart is heavy with Miles's departure, but you won’t focus on that.

Once Miles turns back to headquarters the gang surrounds him with questions, hoping that he received the confirmation that you were going to be coming back to headquarters soon and Miguel's tirade would stop. The look on Miles's face told everyone everything they needed to know before he could even answer any of their questions.

“She looked so sad,” is how Miles starts as he tells them what happened when he went to meet with you, almost in a hushed whisper as if Miguel would hear them from his office. No one knew exactly what he had said to you to make you leave but now after Miles returned it must have been something that would not only make you stay away for so long but still affect you enough to sadden you. They agreed to give you some more space and time since you seemed to want to be left alone for the time being.

Even still, after another two weeks, there was still no word from you. You've been gone for almost a month now and Miguel has just gotten worse. You couldn’t even imagine how bad. It wasn’t even his temper anymore; he was fucking up. Missions were going poorly, anomalies weren’t being captured properly, and even worse Miguel got hurt. It was stupid and was easily avoidable and yet his mind was everywhere else but on catching anomalies. It was about you and his last moments with you. All he could see was your face, your eyes, the tears that were threatening to spill, and the way you looked at him with such pain. He was distracted and careless. A green goblin anomaly got him good and broke at least two of his ribs. Nothing that would do any permanent damage or leave him out of commission for more than a day or so, but the anomaly got away and he fucked up. Because of you. All because of you and that made him even more upset. Why weren’t you back yet? Why were you distracting him even if you weren’t even here?

“Just go and apologize to her” Lyla snarks at Miguel as he sulks in pain in his lab. He groans attempting to ignore her until she pops up right in front of his face. “Seriously Miguel, I don’t think she’s going to return unless you go and apologize.”

“I have nothing to apologize for” He scoffs attempting to swat the AI away. His last memories of you flash behind his eyes, ‘Fuck you, Miguel’ were your final words to him as you left headquarters eyes filling with tears. He never wanted to see your face like that again and he didn’t think even if he apologized you would accept it. You had never spoken to him like that before, at least not in a serious manner, and never cried because of him. He didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t apologize. He just couldn’t. Miguel resigned to not seeing you until you decided to come back to headquarters until you decided to forgive him on your own.

That was until a week later when Miles Morales as gently as possible webbed his way onto Miguel's office platform. Miguel barely even acknowledged his presence, just grunted in his direction as he continued to focus on the screens in front of him. Carefully, Miles walked up and placed a multiverse gizmo on his desk. It almost immediately caught Miguel's attention because it wasn’t any gizmo, it was YOUR gizmo. Obviously, it was yours because while everyone else’s was black, yours was your favorite color. Miguel just glared at it and in the silence, Miles decided to speak.

“She asked me to give it to you. Said that there were modifications to it to help direct the spider society closer to the anomalies when we use it. She said you would be able to figure it out.” Miles explained, his voice softer than usual to not agitate Miguel because Miles knew what it meant when you gave that to Miguel.

It meant that you weren’t coming back. It meant that you were standing up to Miguel and his shit. Someone had to and it had always been you but never like this, never to the point of not returning. Now Miguel was panicking, he thought that eventually you would just come back fuss at him, and forgive him but no, you were leaving. You were leaving society; you were leaving him. His panic turned into rage and his rage turned into him pounding at your window in the middle of the night after going to your universe.

The banging on your window was completely unexpected, your spidey senses feeling it before it happened making you jolt out of bed. You knew it was him even in your groggy state before you went to your window, you just didn’t think it would ever be him. Your eyes went wide blinking at him as if he was an apparition, you knew it had to be him because your body told you so but it truly just couldn’t be. You hadn’t seen him in over a month and you were sure that he resigned to go back running the society alone without your assistance. Unconsciously, you open your window letting him in and he starts his tantrum.

“What kind of scientist are you that you let a child bring in one of your projects without an explanation on anything?” He starts attempting to tower over you as you're still waking up from your abrupt sleep interruption.

“Huh” You’re confused looking up at him, forgetting that you finally finished making the modifications to your gizmo, giving it to Miles on his last visit to you. He came immediately after Miguel got hurt, hoping that would soften you enough to come back to headquarters. It didn’t, which is why you gave Miles your finished prototype and told him to tell Miguel to figure it out.

“So, you didn’t give Miles your gizmo and tell me to figure it out??” He glowed down at you as you noticed he was gripping your watch with the band to not damage it.

You slowly start coming to your senses, realizing what was happening, “I assumed it would be helpful to the society with the modifications I made and an idiot could figure out how to work it. So there was no need for me to explain anything.” Your hands cross under your chest, not thinking how it is pushing your boobs and shirt up towards him. Miguel almost falters watching you do that, realizing that you in fact were only in a shirt, his shirt (and maybe panties but he could barely tell).

“Why haven’t you returned to headquarters?” another question, no apology, but yet another question.

“For what Miguel? I did my job good enough in my universe, yes? You would have been able to test it properly if you weren’t here right now. And yet, you are. Why are you here?” Your eyes narrow at him as you ask the question, he didn’t want you to. “Isn’t it easier without my presence annoying you? You can figure things out by yourself, no?”

You throw his words back in his face, getting as upset as him. How dare he barge into your universe? How dare he act like he hasn’t done anything wrong? Why is it always like trying to move an immovable object with him? He was the one always pushing you away. He was the one who said that your ‘business’ was annoying and that you should keep him out of it. Foolish of you to believe that at one point he may have cared for you, that in some universe that couldn’t be one that either of you would ever visit the two of you would be together, the two of you would make sense.

You could tell that Miguel was frustrated by what you said, irritated, he mumbled under his breath in Spanish. He rakes his hand through his hair starting to pace back and forth in your bedroom. He throws your watch on your bed as he comes to stand in front of you, his thoughts making no sense in his own head. The exhale he makes from his nose washes over your face, but you stand tall glaring up at him, challenging him as you always did. As he looked down at you, the one thing on his mind that he never wanted to admit was blaring at him. He loved you; he fucking loved you and he hated that he loved you. He hated that he didn’t feel good enough for you and he hated that everyone else saw that he wasn’t good enough for you.

His voice was low and soft as he spoke back to you, “Why did you tell Ben we were dating?” You were taken back for a second, almost annoyed that he was bringing this up again. Was this really the issue of everything? As long as he told everyone the truth it would have died down and no one would have really cared.

“Seriously Miguel?!” You throw your hands up frustrated, “This again?? What’s the issue?? We aren’t and it doesn’t matter!”

“You don’t think it hurts for everyone to talk about how I could never be good enough to be with you?? How you’re so much better than me and have no good reason to be with me anyway??” He grits through his teeth as he runs both his hands over his face and hair again. Your eyes go wide in shock and misunderstanding.

“What are you talking about?” You ask taking a step back to look at him, he’s shaking, hands opening and closing in frustration, saying what you assumed were curses in Spanish.

“Just because I don’t have spidey senses, doesn’t mean I can’t hear.” His head turns from you as you look at him yet again in confusion. “Everyone in the society said you were too good for me, that there was no way that you would actually want to be with me” His voice was softer than you had ever heard him speak when he said that, and it broke your heart. How could he not see how much you cared for him? How could he not understand that the reason you were comfortable with the fake dating is because you wouldn’t have minded it being real? But that didn’t give him the right to treat you that way.

“So you hurt me because of what other people said? You truly think I care nothing for you Mig?” You say just as softly as he did, looking up at him fighting the urge to hold his face in your hands.

“I….” He starts as he gazes down at you, pausing and unpausing as he fights to hold your face in his hands also. “I know I’m not good enough for you. I’ve known since the first day I laid my eyes on you that I would never be good enough for you.” He confessed and tears started to build along your lash line at his words.

“I’m sorry….” He says before hesitantly grasping your cheek, “You are too good for me, but I want you so badly. I want to kiss you, hold you, go to bed with you, wake up to you. You’re everything I am not and more.”

“Miguel” You barely whisper as your hand grasps onto the wrist that was holding your cheek.

“I hated hearing what I already felt from everyone.” He confessed.

You looked up at him, his brown eyes filled with sadness. You, who knew him better than anyone, should have known this. But you didn’t, he kept this hidden even from you. As you locked eyes with him, the walls you had built towards him almost immediately crumbled and a spark of courage flowed through you. You press on the balls of your feet upwards, lips landing directly on his. Your hands make their way around his neck as he freezes for a moment in your embrace until realizing that you’re kissing him. YOU are kissing HIM. Once his brain catches up to reality his hands immediately wrap around your waist, drawing you into him to deepen the kiss. Your mouths move against each other as if they are in a dance that only they know. As things get more intense, your hands find his face and pull the two of you apart.

You pant a little before speaking, “Why didn’t you come for me sooner?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me.”

“I’ve always wanted you.”

Taglist, i think i got everyone: @berlinswifey @migueloharastruelove@kinkybandages@razertail18@beckberin-xo

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findmeinthelake · 1 year

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Steel (Jayvik Fanfic)

Chapter One: Transformation

Note: This is also posted to my Ao3, which is under the exact same username

Jayce x Viktor (Arcane), tension, angst, Viktor becoming Machine Herald, Machine Herald

"Those stupid words that came out of Jayce's lips... fuck."

“Jayce will understand.”

His previous choice of words still stuck in his head, bouncing off his skull and causing yet another headache.

Viktor sighed.

Jayce did not understand, yet here Viktor stood- next to his friend whom he loved dearly. Why did he do these things for Jayce when he got nothing in return?

Love. Unconditional love.

---

“Mel?” Jayce called, coughing and covering his eyes, shielding them from the dust that clouded the room.

Soft groans came from the rubble, the remnants of the council chambers shifting as those who survived cried out for help.

The Golden Boy dove at the stones, trying to find his lover. He sifted through the pile, looking for any sign of life.

“Please, Mel…” Jayce whispered, “Please.”

For a while, there was nothing but the sound of falling rocks and the pitter patter of enforcer footsteps.

Then came the sobs, awful screams of agony. No one could tell if it was a trapped soul, or the one who found their body.

That, right there, was his biggest mistake.

Dark grey rocks crumbled as Viktor tried moving his already weakened limbs. This was going to get nowhere.

He inhaled sharply, holding back coughs of dust to listen in. Faintly, Viktor could hear Jayce calling out.

His amber eyes lit up as he gained hope, thinking, no, knowing, his partner was looking for him. Viktor could finally smile.

“Mel… please.”

Viktor barely heard the whispers from under the rubble, struggling to free his left arm that had become pinned between two pieces of metal.

Those stupid words that came out of Jayce’s lips… fuck.

No one was looking for him.

No one cared.

---

The lab was just like how he left it- messy. Good. He knew where everything was left.

Viktor limped over, not wearing the glove that had previously concealed his augmented hand. He dropped his crutch, gathering his supplies.

He frantically scooped up blueprints and materials, shoving them into a bag. Jayce will miss none of this. He thought to himself.

Jayce never noticed anything anymore.

Viktor sighed, double-checking that he grabbed everything of importance. Yup.

He was good to go.

“Home sweet home.” Viktor murmured, walking down the entrance of the cave. He carried his belongings in a heavy bag, straining his shoulder.

“I assume he didn’t.” The Doctor spoke, bandages covering his mouth as he answered the statement from days ago.

Viktor shook his head in disappointment. “He… he did not.” He calmly spoke, setting his bag of stuff down.

Singed had a history with Viktor, as they had met when the young boy stumbled into his lab. They didn’t see entirely eye to eye on things, but, ends could be met.

The older man didn’t have to ask. He eyed Viktor’s altered leg, examining the purple and black skin. “Are you willing to give up valuable things?”

“Like what?” Viktor asked, cocking his head. He had already lost his friend, his lab, and his trust in people.

Flicking a vial, Singed replied with two words. A horrifying trade.

“Your humanity.”

Viktor gave a slow nod, accepting the consequences.

Singed smiled, glad his old friend was beginning to agree with him.

“Get rid of all of it. I want it all gone.” Viktor muttered, “Every last part that renders me slower- more of a, how do you put this, risk? Anything you can do, do it.”

The chemist nodded, walking over towards Viktor. “It will take a toll on you. Emotions are what drive the mind, boy.”

Viktor closed his watery eyes, whispering “I don’t want to be human anymore.”

“As you wish.” Singed replied, tracing Viktor’s arm with the needle. He flicked the scientist’s small tricep, squeezing around his arm to find the vein.

The needle had a cool sensation. Viktor didn’t question what was being injected in him, as he didn’t wish to know the pain he would endure. Yet. All things have a price. His amber eyes got heavy, weighing down on his face. He watched Singed grab a small saw, blinking rapidly as the restraints were tightened.

---

Was it real gold? Or was it fake, just in place to make Piltover, The City of Progress, look exquisite?

Why is this the shit I ponder? Jayce scolded himself. He could be doing something important- something worthwhile. But no. He sat and stared at the fancy ass door that should’ve been opened over an hour ago.

“Mr. Talis?” A voice called, the sharp steps echoing around the room.

Jayce perked up, scratching at the side of his face where the cut was. “Yes?” He asked, standing up and turning towards the enforcer. He wiped the small amount of blood off his cheek. The stupid thing kept reopening… constant reminder that he failed.

The enforcer coughed, crumpling the piece of paper. “There is still no sign of Viktor.” She paused, watching the Councilor’s expression turn from hopeful to blank. “He is now presumed dead, most likely caught in the blast of the explosion and, well, vaporized.”

Vaporized.

With a quickened heartbeat, Jayce whimpered. No… that can’t be true. Not Vik… A tear ran down his cheek, running over the small cut. First Mel, now this?

“You’re certain?”

“Yes, sir. Viktor is dead.”

The world froze. Nothing mattered anymore. Years down the drain… Everything was so real now, coming into the limelight and falling onto him. He never got to say goodbye.

Without another word, Jayce headed out the door. Surely there would be some clues in the lab, right? Work Viktor left behind?

Jayce opened the door, twisting the familiar key in his hand. He peered in, wide-eyed and half expecting to see his old partner at work on one of their many projects.

He walked along the lengthy desk, tracing his index finger in the dust, drawing obscure shapes. Maybe if he had paid more attention to Viktor, he would know where to look.

The hexcore was gone, but even when Vik was… alive… it was gone. Maybe Heimerdinger had it destroyed in secret?

“We could have done so much together…” Jayce whispered to the nothingness in the room, waiting for a response that wouldn’t come.

If only you didn’t leave him- and for a girl of all things. Maybe he would have trusted you more. Confided in you. But NO.

Jayce winced, clawing at his temples and tearing the wound on his upper cheek open. “Go away… please.” He whimpered, staring at the center of the room. He contemplated grabbing the pistol he now carried.

Nothing responded.

He was alone. No one was left to do his work, look after him, let him lean on them- they were all fucking gone because of him. He could’ve done more.

Progress isn’t something that comes to those who don’t strive for it. The future is now, and the past needs to be left behind. The dawn of tomorrow is coming, and Jayce doesn’t want to be left behind.

That is his greatest fear.

---

Nothing.

Viktor grunted, struggling against the restraints. He didn’t say anything- didn’t want to see. His eyes were wide with excitement, but also regret.

“You’re awake?” Singed spoke, walking over to the boy and grabbing him by the jaw, using a small flashlight to look into his pupils.

The Inventor nodded, a million thoughts surging through his mind. Did it go well? How far along was he? Is he gone?

Singed undid the restraints, occasionally glancing up at the man he operated on. “It’s just your legs for now.” He paused, undoing the last restraint and pointing at the ground, “Test them out, go on.”

Viktor furrowed his brows, asking “Why not the other parts-”

“I need to see how your body reacts to the change. I know you mixed magic and science by carving runes into yourself, and by doing that, you made yourself the one controlled variable we are allowed.” The Chemist explained, blankly stating what he found to be quite obvious.

Cold. Viktor traced the steel with his fingers, standing up and shaking. It would take him a minute to find his balance, but he could walk.

He grinned.

The new limbs were quite nice indeed. He paced around the room, flexing the metal limbs. “They’re beautiful.” He whispered, “More, please, doctor.” He asked, sitting on the table once more.

“I cannot pair your nerves with the mechanics- you will never be able to feel anything with your hands again.” Singed muttered, his mask slipping. He almost felt bad for the boy.

Viktor nodded. “My organs- can you replace them too?”

Singed silently agreed.

Viktor leaned back, closing his eyes as Singed flooded his bloodstream with shimmer. Now would hopefully be the final time.

An orange glow tinted the room, only the experiment tubes providing other light. The steady sound of creaking filled the space, water dripping from somewhere above.

Without a word, Viktor opened his eyes. He moved his limbs, noticing he wasn’t tethered down to the operating table like before.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d wake up.”

Viktor looked towards the Chemist, standing up. “How long has it been?” He asked, blankly stating the question.

Singed sighed, “Almost one month. Your body took quite the toll.” He explained, finding a mirror for the boy to look into. “The shimmer has a fair share of side effects, which would explain your prolonged sleep.”

The face in the mirror was not one Viktor recognized. His eyes were a milky shade of black, only having his amber pupils to stand out. Cheeks that were once colorless were now replaced with steel. A neck with many unique marks was covered in sections of metal, moving smoothly on itself.

“I hope you like it.” Singed whispered, watching Viktor touch his new face with metal fingertips.

“I am satisfied.” Viktor replied, a faint smile cracking on his lips. He ran his new hands through his fluffy brown hair, twisting it around his fingers like he used to as a boy.

Nothing. He felt nothing.

The Mechanical Man unbuttoned his shirt, looking at his torso. He still had some skin, but his ribcage was guarded by a steel chamber, along with his spine that ran up the back of his head.

Singed explained “I hope you don’t mind the small changes. I had to extend it slightly up the back of your skull after I… altered your brain.”

Viktor felt at the back of his head, hearing only the sound of metal on metal. His brown waves that were previously there were cut, replaced by the steel plating. He still had most of his hair, but the sections near the metal were cut extremely short to account for the surgery.

“It’s only a small section that is hidden.” Viktor replied, shrugging before putting his shirt back on. “Even then, it doesn’t matter.”

“Then it worked.” Singed smirked. “Before, you would have thrown a small fit.”

The Scientist nodded. “Good. Then I look relatively the same, aside from the sides of my cheeks and eyes?”

Singed coughed, “Yes.” He murmured, handing Viktor a small metal mask. “This is so you aren’t… how should I say this… ostracized? Society won’t like you like this.”

Viktor took the mask, examining it. It was beautifully crafted as a gift for him. “Thank you, Doctor.” He smiled, “But society didn’t like me before, it will be no different now.”

“They will hate you.”

“So be it.” Viktor muttered, attaching the mask to his face. It heavily altered his voice, giving it more of a… robotic feel. “I have things I need from my lab.”

---

Jayce walked down the hallway, doing his nightly walk.

It was a new routine for him- pace around and think.

He passed the lab twice now. Jayce avoided the door like the disease it was- it had ruined his life once, and he wasn’t going to let it ruin it again.

CLANK.

A rattling sound came from the lab, followed by a string of angry curse words.

Jayce stood in front of the door, his hand inches away from the handle. Should he open it? What if it is bad?

His curiosity got the best of him. Jayce twisted the knob, entering the room. His hazel eyes met an orange glow coming from the desk as someone, or something, rummaged through the drawers.

“Show yourself!” Jayce barked, ordering the thief to step into the light. “I’m armed!” He yelled, holding the weapon at his side.

The stranger walked over, revealing a mask of steel. He stared at Jayce, watching him tremble.

Jayce shook, eyeing the tufts of brown hair that stuck out into a similar fashion that Viktor’s did. “Vik?” He whispered, lowering the gun.

“What?” Viktor mumbled, his voice masked by metal. “Did you really th- OW FUCK.” He yelled, holding his side.

Jayce panicked, looking at the gun he just fired. “Oh my god…”

Viktor swatted at Jayce, “Get away from me, traitor!” He grunted, shoving more stuff into his bag with gloved hands.

“They told me you were dead…” Jayce cried, dropping the gun. “I thought I lost you.”

“You have.” Viktor blankly stated, eyeing the ‘Golden Boy’. “Now, leave.”

Jayce shook his head, “No, absolutely- absolutely not!” He yelled, walking rapidly towards Viktor and jumping at his face.

Trying to shake him off, Viktor grabbed at Jayce. “Get off me, dammit!”

“What did they do to you?” Jayce yelled, pulling at the mask. “I can help you, Vik, we all can- the city will help you. I am here for-”

Jayce went silent as he fell to the floor, carrying the mask with him. He looked up at his old friend’s face, seeing his altered eyes and the steel on his cheeks and neck.

“I did this to myself.” Viktor answered, staring at Jayce on the floor, taking off his gloves and revealing his metal limbs. “It’s quite nice, actually.”

“Vik…” Jayce whispered, tearing up as he looked more and more. He stood up, walking over and grabbing Viktor’s steel hands. “We will make this work… it will take time, but we will make it work.”

Viktor watched as Jayce traced his hands. “Stop.” He ordered.

Jayce looked down at him, his brows knitting together. “What?”

“I can no longer feel the sand under my feet. Never again can I feel the warmth and touch of someone’s hand on my own. It means nothing to me.”

Jayce shook his head, unable to believe this was the same person as before. “Vik, I love you. I always have.”

Viktor tilted his head, taking his mask back and sealing the bag he carried.

“Love is conditional, Jayce.”

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clementinecrane · 1 year

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So, Say The Words So Often hit the 5k mark in hits recently so I thought I’d write a short something from before Jaskier and Geralt meet IRL. It’s not much but it seemed like a fun way to celebrate the milestone. :) I hope you enjoy!

Jaskier stared at the computer screen for a long moment. His eyes drifted to the gif that WhiteWolf had sent him, asking if he was still alive. His own adorable nagging way of asking for attention. They’d known each other for a little over a year now, and such displays were totally normal for them. He was stuck in the midst of making a decision that he couldn’t take back.

Dandelion: lol what’s up, goof?

Wolf proceeded to tell him about a fic he’d just finished reading and how Jaskier needed to read it ASAP. A small smile played at Jaskier’s lips as he read the review of the fic from Wolf, and his various warnings about certain things. He could tell him, things wouldn’t change except for the better, right? Jaskier had had a crush on WhiteWofl for months now, and he wished they could be more than just friends. Long distance dating was a lot, he knew, but in his mind it was better than nothing. Hell, he’d even move if he had to. But he’d been feeling this way for a while and he didn’t know how much longer he could go without saying something.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he thought of how he wanted to phrase it. But every time he started to type something out, he would just backspace until he’d erased everything. What if he just made WhiteWolf uncomfortable and their friendship dissolved? What if that was the last thing he ever got to say to him? Suddenly a billion different forms of rejection appeared in his mind and all he could think was, no, there’s no way I can do this.

So instead he simply typed back an affirmative that he’d read the fic as soon as possible, sure that he would love it. He slumped down in his chair and covered his face with his hands. If only there was a way to find out how Wolf felt without broaching the topic himself. He sighed and clicked the ao3 link and settled himself in for another long night of reading fic.

#geraskier #unresolved romantic tension #unrequited love #one-shot #angst

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eatdirt420 · 7 months

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So what? It's some shitty Halloween party, what possibly could happen?

"I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself." Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | "I'm fine."

Relationships: Rhaenyra Targaryen/Laena Velaryon (Daughter of Corlys), Rhaenyra Targaryen & Elinda Massey, Rhaenyra Targaryen & Elinda Massey & Mysaria | Lady Misery (A Song of Ice and Fire), Laena Velaryon (Daugher of Corlys) & Laenor Velaryon Characters: Rhaenyra Targaryen, Laena Velaryon (Daughter of Corlys), Laenor Velaryon, Elinda Massey, Mysaria | Lady Misery (A Song of Ice and Fire)

✵✷✵

Parties aren't Rhaenyra's thing; it's just a bunch of university-age kids getting drunk off their asses and making asses of themselves. Still, it's freshman year, the first year away from her parents, and her roommates (Elinda and Mysaria) have decided that the only way they can celebrate Halloween is to become one of those fucking idiots. It's almost like they don't even care that midterms are coming up, but whatever— she's done plenty of studying; it can all wait till later, anyways.

Rhaenyra is scantily clad as Cleopatra, complete with a white cut out mini dress, gold chain headpiece, and gold gladiator sandals. The only thing she has that brings any semblance of warmth is a dainty red chiffon scarf wrapped around her upper arms like a shawl. This ensemble is, of course, an oversight on her part; it's brumal inside and out.

(The venue itself, complete with a bonfire outside, has been rented out courtesy of the Velaryon family, which is sure to earn Laena and Laenor some popularity points. Neither of these facts were known to Rhaenyra, who hadn't even planned on being there in the first place and l, likely wouldn't even care if she knew. All that information would come later from Mysaria's morning tea gossip session.)

Rhaenyra, for the most part, stays inside, but at one point she decides to take a peek outside towards the bonfire. She searches for the pink of Elinda's princess dress or the striking red of Mysaria's femme fatale ensemble, but finds neither. Braving in the cold for just a moment, she ventures outside to get a better look. Surely, they hadn't left her here, alone, and without a phone.

In sparce, separate groups around the bonfire are imbellic students that have decided that the fire is enough to chase away the cold. In one of these groups (further away from the door), stands the woman she knows as Laena from one of Rhaenyra's elective classes. She's wearing a long black leather jacket, almost like a duster, and what appears to be some form of tights, likely beneath a short dress hidden by the jacket. She's got on turquoise socks and black tennis shoes. Her hair is pulled back in a thick white ponytail, tied off with a turquoise and black ribbon.

Laena turns to her, dressed like a Euphoria cheerleader underneath her leather jacket. She gives her a once over, then turns to a black man dressed as a cowboy and whispers something in his ear. He turns back to her with a smile and shoves at her shoulder.

At this, Rhaenyra turns away and scans the crowd for either Elinda or Mysaria; she finds neither, but makes her way inside towards the bar to start on another beer anyway. Originally, she planned to wallow mysteriously with the bartender's ear, but the crowd there gives her heebie-jeebies. She's handed another Guinness and makes her way towards the bathrooms where the crowds are sparse (completely opposite to the dancefloor and double french doors to the outside world).

Rhaenyra finds herself immensely bored. She's got no phone and no social entertainment in her corner; the most she can do is get herself completely wasted so she will no longer be cold, or watch all her classmates dance together, smiling from ear to ear. She likes to do the first, but is very rudely interrupted; she can't seem to find it in her to be annoyed.

"Rhaenyra," Laena greets her, smelling of smoke.

"Laena," Rhaenyra acknowledges in return, "Gaelic 1A, yeah?"

"That'd be me," there's a slightly tense silence, save for the other moving party-goers, as she leans against the wall, "you don't strike me as a Celtic major."

"No, no— uhm," Rhaenyra clears her throat and leans back away from Laena's easy stance, "Politics, Philosophy and Economics— I just wanted to… learn… Gaelic…"

"Ah," Laena takes a swig from her cider, "you're a true academic, then."

"I take it you are majoring in… Celtic?"

"Celtic and Linguistics," Laena gazes at her lips for a moment too long before averting back to her eyes, "parents wanted me to go to University, and I figure it'll help when I join the Armed Forces."

"Oh," Rhaenyra adjusts her stance subtly (even subconsciously, not knowing that she's moving at all) and brings her beer to her lips, "you think yourself a soldier, I take it."

"I think o' myself a doer," she shrugs, watching her drink her beer with an underlying intensity, "figure I can do better work fighting then I can working an office job."

She smiles warmly in return, despite the not-quite-warm air, "how noble of you."

The two of them fall into one of those lapsed silences that occurs when you've known each other for long enough to graduate past passing small talk, but not long enough to know what comes next. Some people combat this by asking mundane, get-to-know-you questions: favorite color?, any hobbies?, recent holiday excursions?. While this is a tried and true tactic, it's not always the most effective. Sometimes one of the parties will give into impulsivity and suggest going somewhere else altogether: somewhere more quiet, more quaint, more… personal.

A door opens, sending in a ghastly draft; Rhaenyra shivers involuntarily against it, pushing herself subtly colder to Laena as a way of creating a human shield.

Laena deflects the silence, "aren't you freezing?"

"I'm fine. I've got," Rhaenyra lifts her scarf with a shrug.

"A scrap of fabric," Laena counters with a furrowed brow, "its brass monkeys outside; not much better in here."

"I'll blame my piss-poor planning and walk it off," she shrugs, twirling her now-empty bottle and ignoring the sudden rush of heat in her bloodstream.

"You'll get frostbite," Rhaenyra opens her mouth to argue, but she beats her to the punchline, "d'you want my jacket? I swear on my mother, I won't mind."

As some sort of aside, Laena takes the bottle out of Rhaenyra's hand and passes it to the man (when did he get here???) she was talking to earlier. They have some sort of exchange (that Rhaenyra can't quite hear) before he rolls his eyes and leaves the two of them alone again.

"Look, I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself," Rhaenyra takes a step back, her skin raised in goosebumps (not from the cold).

"Of course you can," Laena laughs. The sound is cruel, but not mean, "but that's not what I asked, pretty girl."

Laena straightens up as a group brushes by them to get to the bathrooms, pulling Rhaenyra away from them and towards a more hidden alcove by the 'employees only' area. There, in the internal alleyway, she crowds her against the wall. That is, she uses her hands to make sure Rhaenyra doesn't hit the brick too hard before pulling slightly away, her right hand just above her head, palm against the bricks.

"Are you… trying to intimidate me?"

"Depends on whether or not it's working," Laena backs up a bit when she sees the flash of anxiety in Rhaenyra's eyes. She switches tactics, "look, no strings attached— I'm just looking for somewhere to hang my jacket, but if you're not cold…"

"I wouldn't really know what to do with," Rhaenyra raises her scarf again, this time much more pathetic than the last. It almost feels like an excuse; she longs for another beer.

"I can help with that, too, y'know," Laena half-whispers, making it clear it's only for her to hear, "if you'd like."

She looks at her— really looks at her: past all the glitter and entrancing smiles. Laena's offer is genuine, for she truly cares about whether or not she'll get frostbite. The sound is foreign on her tongue when she whispers back, "okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Thank Tyraxes," Laena leans back a bit, giving Rhaenyra another brush of the cool night air, "I was beginning to wonder if all that studying stole your reason."

"It's not—"

Laena pulls the scarf out of Rhaenyra's grasp, pulling it into a condensed line in her hands. She takes her left hand and carefully puts it on her waist, using it to pull her closer and effectively grasp the end of the scarf. When she's got it threaded around the back, Rhaenyra half-wonders if she's gonna use the scarf to kiss her.

Rhaenyra banishes the thought as Laena flawlessly ties the scarf up.

With that out of the way, Laena slowly removes her jacket and pulls it onto Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra herself is dumbfounded, making no moves to help (which is, of course, Laena's intent). She is caught like a deer in headlights beneath her caring ways. Her stomach swoops dramatically, and she forces herself to refrain from leaning in to leave a kiss on her cheek.

Laena pulls away with a mischievous smile, her tongue poking between her teeth, "what were you saying?"

Rhaenyra swallows harshly, "nothing."

Laena fixes her leather jacket's collar, flattening it unnecessarily. If Rhaenyra didn't know any better, she'd say she was obnoxiously flirting with her; a buried part of her hopes she is.

"See you around, Rhae," Laena smirks, giving her one more once-over before vanishing amongst the crowd.

Rhaenyra takes a moment to breathe, but it does nothing to ease the rising tension in the center of her chest. She finds herself frazzled in the dark leather of Laena's coat. If she turns her nose into the collar, she will find the scent of fresh sea salt. Later in life it'll provide her with a sense of security, a sense of home, that she didn't know beforehand. For now, it makes her feel nervous. She bites her lip, turns her eyes to the ceiling, makes a small prayer to whatever Gods might be listening, and walks back out into the party.

Rhaenyra will return the jacket come Monday, for now she's just concerned about sticking to her plans of sipping Guinness 'til the sun comes up. Her next three beers are paid for, but the bartender keeps the benefactor unknown.

Rhaenyra doesn't remember most of the night, but she knows she wasn't cold; her throbbing hangover reminded her of whose fault that was.

#whumptober 2023 #no.15 #'i don't need you to help me i can handle things myself'#supressed suffering #'i'm fine'#HOTD #GOT #ASOIAF #Fire & Blood #fanfiction #heavy drinking #partying #pre-relationship #unresolved romantic tension #University AU #Halloween AU #Modern Day London AU #dirttalks

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