#arcaneimagine

Summary: He doesn’t speak much about what he thinks. But you’ve always seen through Viktor’s silence — the quiet effort, the unspoken exhaustion. As others drift, you remain. One night, he finally lets you in. Pairing: Viktor x Reader (with background Jayce friendship) Word Count: ~1,250 Warnings: emotional vulnerability, soft physical touch, slow-burn tension

You always knew Viktor spoke loudest in his silences.

He had his cane, his tools, his layered thoughts that rarely made it to words. And you? You had patience. The kind of patience most didn’t afford him. Jayce tried, yes, but Jayce burned bright — all ambition and fire, while Viktor was wind and coal, steady and quiet and harder to hold.

That was why, on late nights when the lab lights dimmed and the hextech core hummed soft in the dark, it was you Viktor lingered near.

Tonight was one of those nights. Rain scratched at the tall windows. Viktor hadn’t said much in the last hour. Just the occasional hum, the tightening of a bolt, the click of metal on glass.

You sat on the floor beside the prototype desk, arms loosely around your knees, watching him.

“Do you ever rest?” you asked softly.

Viktor glanced down, a wry smile tugging. “Resting is for those who can afford time. I cannot.”

“You’re allowed to slow down, you know.” You stood and moved to his side. “Jayce will keep the sky from falling for one night.”

He looked at you with tired eyes, something vulnerable behind them. “And you? Will you keep me from falling?”

You blinked. His tone wasn’t teasing.

You reached out slowly, giving him time to pull away. But he didn’t. Your fingers gently took his hand — cold, callused, always working.

“I already am,” you whispered.

He let out a quiet breath. Not quite a sigh, not quite relief. “You are… the only one who sees it. The loneliness of all this. The pressure. Everyone thinks I am driven, but I am only afraid of being left behind.”

You rested your forehead to his shoulder, and he leaned into it like it was a lifeline.

“You’re not alone,” you murmured. “I see you, Viktor. Even when you hide behind the science.”

Silence.

Then: “It terrifies me how much I want to believe that.”

He turned, slowly, and let his forehead rest against yours. It was barely a touch. Barely a breath. But it felt like everything.

“I’m not Jayce,” you said. “I won’t shout my love from rooftops or write speeches. But I will stay when things are quiet. When they’re hard. When they’re ugly. I will stay.”

His voice cracked when he said your name. Just your name.

Then, carefully, he cupped the back of your head and kissed your brow.

No hunger. No fire. Just a soft, aching pressure that said thank you and I’m afraid and don’t go all at once.

You let your arms circle his waist.

Neither of you needed more than that. Not yet.

Just two souls resting in the space between invention and exhaustion, between loneliness and the quiet hope of love.

Later, when Jayce returned, he found the lights still low.

He didn’t disturb you. Just smiled faintly from the doorway when he saw Viktor asleep for once, his hand still loosely wrapped in yours.

Somehow, Jayce always knew how to read a victory when he saw one.

A/N : What do u think about the second one ? Do you like it? Want a second part?

By the way, don't forget to Like, Share and Subscribe !

Summary: Back when the world hadn't broken apart yet, you were caught in the heart of something soft and dangerous — two boys who loved you, but never said it. Zaun was still only half a battlefield then. But love, restraint, and fear made it a war zone long before the fighting began. Pairing: Vander x Reader x Silco Word count: ~1,100 Warnings: Slow-burn pining, unspoken feelings, bittersweet tension, pre-canon setting

You didn’t ask for this kind of closeness.

Didn’t expect to matter to either of them the way you did.

Zaun had a way of pushing people together. Same dust in your lungs, same reasons to keep your head down, same constant ache for something better.

You grew up side by side Vander, the voice that steadied you in chaos. Silco, the silence that made you wonder what lived under all that sharpness.

And you? You were just there, always in the middle of it, heart pulled in two different directions.

Vander was warmth. Strong, grounded. The kind of person who’d lift the world on his back if it meant you could breathe easier.

He laughed with his whole chest. Always pulled you in when he hugged you. Called you "kid" sometimes even though he knew better. Always looking out, always asking how you were, even when you didn’t have an answer.

There were nights when he walked you home just to be sure. Never said why. You never asked.

Silco was… harder to read. But never absent.

He saw things no one else did. Not just in the city — in you, too. The way you second-guessed yourself, the way you tried to be the glue that kept everything together. He never told you it was too much.

Sometimes, when you were talking with Vander and laughing too loud, you’d catch Silco watching. Quiet. Not angry. Just… like it hurt a little to hear joy he wasn’t part of.

One night, it cracked open.

You were arguing with Vander about something dumb — an idea you had, some reckless plan. He kept telling you it was too risky. You told him to stop treating you like someone who needed saving.

Silco walked in halfway through and didn’t say a word. Just leaned in the doorway and let it unfold.

When Vander left, frustrated, Silco stayed.

“You want him to see you differently,” he said, like it wasn’t a question.

You didn’t answer. Because maybe he was right. Maybe you wanted both of them to see you as more than just a part of the team.

There were small moments after that.

Vander brushing your hand a second too long when he passed you a drink. Silco fixing your coat collar without saying a word. You catching yourself staring when you shouldn’t.

You started to feel like a storm was coming, and you were the thing caught between the thunder and the strike.

One night, Vander sat beside you on the old balcony behind The Last Drop. City buzzing below, your shoulder pressed against his.

“You ever think we could’ve had something?” he asked quietly.

Your throat tightened. “We still could.”

But he shook his head like he didn’t believe it. Or maybe like he thought he didn’t deserve it. “You’ve always been the best of us.”

He kissed your temple, soft. And left you there with the weight of almost.

And Silco?

He didn’t speak in confessions. Not like Vander.

But one night, he knocked on your door with a bottle of something strong and a strange look in his eyes. He didn’t sit. Just stood there, hands clenched.

“I’d never ask you to choose,” he said. “Because I already know what you’d pick.”

Your chest burned. “And what’s that?”

He looked away. “Not me.”

He left the bottle and walked out before you could answer.

You didn’t sleep that night.

You couldn’t.

Because the truth was… you didn’t know who you’d pick. And that tore you up inside.

Zaun doesn’t give you love stories. Not the happy kind. It gives you loyalty and scars and choices you can’t take back.

And here you were, holding pieces of two men who both knew what it meant to lose, and were terrified of losing you, too.

You loved Vander’s steadiness. Silco’s sharpness. The way both made you feel like you weren’t just surviving here—you mattered.

And maybe that was enough.

Or maybe it would never be.

A/N: Here's the last imagine of Vander. Hope u like. Have a good reading! Ask me for a second part ! Lots of love ! 🩷🩷🩷🩷

Summary: Things with Finn were never supposed to go this far. But late nights and too much danger have a way of pushing people together. When Silco walks in, the fallout is volcanic. Pairing: Finn x Reader (+ jealous Silco) Word Count: ~1,200 Warnings: Implied sexual content, possessiveness, jealousy, emotional tension, manipulation

You knew it was a mistake the moment Finn pressed you against the table.

But you didn’t stop it.

Zaun had a way of wearing people down the noise, the blood, the choices that never felt like choices. You’d been running errands for Silco all day, and Finn had been trailing behind you, throwing cocky looks, leaning in too close, testing you with every word.

Now, the tension that had been building for weeks snapped.

The room was hot. His mouth was hot. Your hands scrambled for skin under his coat like you were trying to forget where you were, who you worked for, and what this would cost.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. It was need. His breath ghosted over your neck, rough and teasing. You tangled your fingers in his hair, too caught up to think too starved for something reckless, something real.

You didn’t hear the door open.

You only saw Finn’s eyes flick upward. And freeze.

Then you felt it that electric silence.

You turned, heart hammering.

Silco stood in the doorway, expression unreadable.

The air cracked.

His eye tracked every detail — your wrinkled shirt, the flush on your skin, Finn’s hands on your waist. He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe. When he finally stepped into the room, the weight of his presence was suffocating.

“Comfortable?” Silco asked. Voice calm. Controlled. Deadly.

Finn stepped back a little, but not far enough. “Boss—”

“Don’t.” Silco cut him off, eyes never leaving you.

You scrambled to fix your shirt, your breath catching.

Silco’s gaze dropped to your hands, then rose again. Slower this time. Colder.

“Of all people,” he said, low and sharp, “him?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. What could you even say?

“It was a mistake,” you said quickly. “It just happened.”

“Oh,” Silco murmured. “Just happened.”

His voice was quiet, but something uncoiled behind it. Not rage. Not yet. But hurt, twisted and buried beneath years of control.

“You think I haven’t seen the way he looks at you?” Silco stepped closer. “Like you’re something he can win. Something he can take.”

“And what?” Finn snapped, stepping forward now. “She’s yours?”

“Don’t test me,” Silco growled.

Finn didn’t back down. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy with power plays and smoke and mirrors”

“You don’t get to speak like you understand her,” Silco snapped, voice rising. “You don’t even see her.”

“And you do?” Finn laughed once bitter. “You think control equals love?”

“Enough!” you shouted.

Both men froze.

You took a shaky breath. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. But you” You looked at Silco. “You act like you own people. You never ask. You never say what you feel. You just expect.”

Silco’s eye narrowed, sharp with something like grief. “And you would rather have someone who can’t protect you?”

Finn's jaw clenched. “She doesn’t need a cage to feel safe.”

The tension pulled so tight it could’ve broken glass.

You looked between them Silco, barely restrained, his voice a blade. Finn, furious and half-dressed, still daring to stand his ground.

This wasn’t love.

This was chaos.

But in a twisted, awful way, part of you liked it. Being seen, finally even if it was through the smoke and the fallout.

“I need time,” you said, voice raw.

Silco didn’t answer. Just turned on his heel and walked out.

Finn watched him go, breathing hard. Then he looked at you all heat and confusion.

“Should I go after him?” he muttered.

“No,” you whispered. “He’ll come back.”

You weren’t sure whether that comforted you… or terrified you more.

A/N : Here 's the imagine ask of them... I think it's gonna be one the last one request^^ I have one last to do and after I could reopened on September ^^ or maybe when Arcane S3 will be released^^ ! Have a good reading ! ❤️❤️❤️❤️Lots of love ! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Summary: He let you in once, for a moment. But now, Viktor is learning that healing isn’t a one-time thing it’s a choice. And maybe this time, he’s ready to choose you. No theories, no projections, no fear. Just something real. Pairing: Viktor x Reader Word Count: ~1,300 Warnings: Emotional healing, soft intimacy, slow-burn comfort, gentle kiss

The next few days were… quieter.

Not empty, not silent just gentler.

Viktor still worked, of course. He was Viktor. But something had shifted. He paced less. Snapped less. You even caught him eating on his own once, like he remembered he had a body to care for and not just a brain to race.

He still hadn’t said much about that night the one where he let himself lean on you. Where he’d admitted, in a whisper, that you made him want to stay.

But the way his eyes lingered when you handed him tea, the way his fingers brushed yours when you passed notes, the way his shoulders relaxed when he realized you were nearby those were confessions in their own way.

You didn’t need grand declarations. You just needed the truth.

He was scribbling calculations on the glass wall of the lab when you walked in again. The faint scent of ink and ozone clung to him, and you could see he was in one of his deep spirals not frantic, but somewhere else.

“Hey,” you said softly, leaning your hip against the desk. “How long have you been up?”

“Two hours,” he said automatically. Then paused. “…Since the second sunrise.”

You blinked. “Viktor. That was yesterday.”

He turned, sheepish. “Ah.”

You crossed the room, tugged the pen from his hand, and took both of his in yours.

“You promised me,” you murmured, voice gentle. “No more burning out.”

He opened his mouth to argue because of course he did but then he looked at you. Really looked. The tired curve of your mouth, the faint worry in your eyes.

And for once, he didn’t argue.

“I’m trying,” he said quietly. “I don’t always know how.”

You brought one of his hands to your lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Then let me help you remember.”

That night, he didn’t go back to the lab bench.

Instead, you found yourselves on the old couch again, tangled together in the hush of the workshop, your legs across his lap as you half-read an old book aloud.

Viktor wasn’t listening, not really. His gaze was on you not intense, just soft. Like watching you breathe was enough to keep him grounded.

You lowered the book.

“What?” you asked, teasing.

He shook his head. “I don’t know how I lived before you. It all seems… louder now. Sharper. But easier, too. Like I was moving through fog before.”

You rested your hand over his heart. “That’s how I feel when you let me in.”

He swallowed. “It scares me.”

“I know.”

There was silence.

Then so carefully, it almost broke you—he touched your face, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“I think I’m tired of running,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Tired of thinking the next breakthrough will make the fear go away.”

You leaned in. “Then stop running. Start staying.”

He didn’t move.

So you did.

Your lips brushed his soft, lingering, not urgent. Just there. Like a promise.

When you pulled back, Viktor’s eyes were glassy. Not from tears. Just from everything.

He smiled. “You make me believe I deserve this.”

You kissed his forehead next, and rested your brow to his.

“You do.”

Later, with his head in your lap and your hand combing gently through his hair, he murmured, “You really are the only one who ever understood me.”

You smiled. “Good. Then I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Viktor slept not from exhaustion, but from peace.

A/N: Here's Part 3 of "Imagine Being the Only One Who Understands Viktor". Hope u like it! Don't forget to Like, Share & Subsrcribe ! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Part 2 – Vander x Reader x Silco

Summary: Feelings long buried rise to the surface when Silco and Vander each reach a breaking point and you're the storm between them. One shows up at your door, too angry to pretend. The other waits in the dark with regret he won’t name. You never asked to be loved by both, but now you're faced with what it means to matter this much and to maybe lose it all. Pairing: Vander x Reader x Silco Word Count: ~1,300 Warnings: Bittersweet tension, romantic confusion, longing, love triangle, unspoken hurt, implied heartbreak

There was never a right time to fall in love with two men. Especially not those two.

Not Vander, with his arms always open for everyone but his heart locked shut. Not Silco, with his words sharp enough to cut and his silence even sharper.

And definitely not in Zaun where soft things don’t last long, and love always costs more than you’re ready to pay.

But it was too late now.

Things between them had shifted. You could feel it, like tension in the air before a storm. The way Vander barely looked Silco in the eye anymore. The way Silco walked around Vander like a blade waiting to be drawn.

And you? You were stuck in the middle again.

You weren’t sure what cracked it open. Maybe it was that night Vander kissed your temple like he was saying goodbye. Or maybe it was Silco showing up on your doorstep again, same bottle, same clenched jaw, but this time staying.

He didn’t speak for a long while. Neither did you. He just sat beside you, shoulders tense, like touching you would set something off inside him.

Then he said your name. Just your name.

Quiet. Careful. The way someone says a prayer when they aren’t sure they believe anymore.

You looked at him, eyes tired but kind. “You didn’t come here to drink.”

“No.” He held your gaze. “I came because I can’t pretend anymore.”

You felt your breath catch. “Pretend what?”

“That I don’t care. That I’m fine watching him stand next to you like he’s the only one allowed to matter.”

His voice cracked near the end. He didn’t look away this time.

You didn’t know what to say.

Because truth was, you’d been carrying both of them in your chest for too long.

You didn’t choose. How could you?

Vander was a home you always came back to. Solid. Strong. He made you feel safe.

But Silco… Silco made you feel seen. He knew the mess inside you and didn’t flinch. He liked that you weren’t perfect.

And somehow, that meant more than anything.

The silence between you stretched.

Finally, you whispered, “I never wanted to hurt either of you.”

Silco looked at you like it physically hurt to hear that. “Then why does it feel like bleeding, every time you look at him that way?”

You didn’t answer.

Because maybe… he was right.

Later, you found Vander behind the bar at The Last Drop, knuckles raw from training.

“You talked to him,” he said without looking up.

“I did.”

“Do you love him?”

You hesitated.

“I love you both.”

That shut him up.

Then: “You know that can’t work, right?”

You stepped closer. “I didn’t say it would. But it’s the truth.”

Vander leaned on the bar. His voice broke around the edges. “You’re the only soft thing left in this place. He’ll ruin that.”

You reached out, hand brushing his cheek. “He’s not the only one who’s changed.”

He caught your wrist gently, eyes full of something ancient and aching. “Then maybe we all lose.”

You didn’t cry, though gods know you wanted to.

Because Vander was right.

Zaun didn’t give people like you a fair shot. It gave you war. Hard choices. Broken bonds. Love with teeth.

Still… when you left that night, neither of them stopped you.

Not Vander. Not Silco.

Maybe they didn’t know how.

Or maybe… they were hoping you’d come back. But this time, choose on of them To end the war.

A/N: Here's Part 2 and last part of" Imagine Being Taken Back to the Old Days with Young Vander and Silco" . Hope u like it @mverickss !! Have a good reading ! Lots of love ! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Summary: A long night in the lab turns into a moment of raw honesty. Viktor and Jayce both confess what they've been holding back about their feelings for you, and each other. Pairing: Viktor x Reader x Jayce Word Count: ~1,250 Warnings: love triangle, slow-burn to heated tension, emotional vulnerability, implied intimacy, +18 themes (no graphic content)

The lab was always quieter after midnight.

The hum of arcane machines, faint blue light spilling across schematics, the scent of coffee long gone cold. You were used to this spaceViktor pacing in socks, Jayce sighing over another failed prototype, you caught somewhere in the middle, the glue between two brilliant minds too stubborn to admit they needed you.

Tonight was different.

The tension wasn’t in the machines. It was in the silence between them.

Jayce leaned back in his chair, staring at you like he was trying to read an equation. Viktor stood near the window, cane in hand, jaw tight. You could feel it building whatever this was, it had been simmering for weeks. Months, maybe.

Finally, Jayce spoke.

“She needs to know.”

His voice was softer than expected. No anger, no frustration. Just truth.

Viktor didn’t move at first. “I agree.”

Your heart stuttered. “Know… what?”

Viktor turned. And suddenly, there was no room to hide.

“That this isn’t one-sided,” he said. “Not from him. Not from me.”

Jayce stood up slowly, walking to your side. “We’ve both been trying to ignore it. Pretend it was just… tension from the lab. A crush. But it's not.”

“And we don’t want to pretend anymore,” Viktor added. “Even if it’s complicated.”

Your breath caught. The lab spun a littlenot from fear, but from how right this felt, how terrifyingly real it suddenly was.

You looked at them Jayce with that steady fire in his eyes, Viktor with his quiet, aching intensity. How long had they been feeling this? How long had you?

“I care about you both,” you whispered. “I don’t know if that makes me selfish, or foolish, or”

“It makes you honest,” Viktor said gently.

Jayce’s fingers brushed your wrist. “We’re not asking you to choose. Not tonight.”

Something in the air cracked. Maybe it was restraint.

Jayce kissed you first. Slow, careful, his hand cupping your cheek like you were something delicate. He tasted like cinnamon and exhaustion, like held-back feelings finally let loose.

Then Viktor stepped closer.

He didn’t ask permission he read it in your eyes, in the way you leaned toward him. His kiss was deeper, searching, less soft. As if he'd been holding his breath for far too long.

Your hands found their shoulders, your breath tangled with theirs. The hum of the lab machines faded. All you could hear was the sound of needhonest, desperate, and warm.

When the kiss broke, all three of you stood there in the blue light, breathless, tangled, trembling.

Jayce leaned his forehead to yours. “Stay. Just… stay.”

You didn’t even need to answer. You were already home.

That night didn’t end in words. It ended in warm hands and whispered promises, in two hearts pressing against your own like they were trying to memorize the rhythm of you. It ended with no winner, no loser just three people who had stopped pretending.

A/N : Here's first imagine of Viktor who is gonna be the last character of Arcane. Next is going to be Blood of Zeus. Hope u like this imagine! Have a good reading ! Lots of love ! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Summary: Zaun is on the verge of breaking. Amid sirens and smoke, you fight alongside Vi to defend your people. But between the bruises, blood, and the bond that’s only grown stronger in the chaos, something deeper starts rising to the surface and neither of you can shove it down anymore. Pairing: Vi x Reader Word Count: ~1,200 Warnings: Violence, blood, minor injury, romantic tension, battle setting, emotional suppression

The street was on fire again.

Not literal flames this time but the noise, the smoke, the yelling it might as well have been.

You wiped sweat from your forehead with a cut-up sleeve, heart pounding too fast to think straight. Then, through the haze, you saw her.

Vi.

Covered in grime, blood on her cheek (probably not hers), jaw clenched like she was chewing on rage.

“You good?” she shouted over the chaos, swinging a pipe over her shoulder like it was just another extension of herself.

“I’ve had better nights,” you muttered, panting, “but yeah. Still standing.”

She smirked. “That’s all that matters right now.”

Another explosion cracked through the alley behind you a flare burst, not close enough to kill, but close enough to rattle your ribs. Vi didn’t even flinch. She reached for your hand, pulled you behind cover like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You didn’t let go.

The air down here always smelled like rust and electricity, but tonight it was worse panic thick in every breath. The streets had turned into a battleground. Kids were fighting, old friends turning on each other, and no one knew who the enemy even was anymore.

Except you and Vi.

You two had always known what you were fighting for: each other, and the ones who couldn’t fight for themselves.

“I’ve got your back,” you said, ducking behind a broken vent wall.

She looked at you not a glance, but a real look. Like she needed to know you meant it.

“You always do,” she said, voice rough. “But tonight… I need more than that.”

You frowned. “More?”

Before she could answer, a scream rang out a young voice, too close. You both spun around.

Two enforcers, backed into a corner by some half-masked chem-barons. Wrong place, wrong night. Vi didn’t hesitate she ran toward it, fists first. You were right behind her.

You fought like you always did in rhythm. Her blocks, your swings. Her takedowns, your follow-throughs. Not perfect, but enough. Always enough.

You took a hit to the ribs that knocked the wind out of you. Vi caught you before you could hit the ground.

“You okay?” she asked, breathless, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, blinking fast. “Just… let me catch my soul real quick.”

She laughed short, shaky, but real. Then she pressed her forehead to yours for a second. Just a second.

“You scared me,” she said, so low you barely heard it.

“I’m right here.”

“I know. That’s the problem.”

Later, when things had quieted not safe, but quiet you sat with her on the broken steps behind an abandoned chem-lab. Her knuckles were split. So were yours.

Neither of you talked at first.

Then she said, “I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel it.”

You turned your head.

“The way I look at you during fights,” she added, eyes locked on the horizon. “The way I check if you’re breathing before I even check myself.”

“Vi…”

She shook her head, suddenly looking mad at herself. “I don’t get to want things. Not down here. Not when everything’s falling apart.”

“You do,” you said, gently. “You get to want something for yourself. You get to want me.”

That made her look at you.

“Because I want you too,” you admitted, voice barely a whisper. “I just didn’t know if it was okay to say it. If it would mess everything up.”

Vi gave a quiet, almost tired laugh.

“Everything’s already messed up,” she said. “Might as well have something real in the middle of it.”

And then she kissed you.

Not soft. Not slow.

Desperate.

Like she’d been waiting for the world to end so she could finally do it.

You kissed her back.

Later, the riot would start again. The smoke would come back. The sirens, the blood, the noise all of it would return.

But for a moment, you weren’t just part of Zaun’s war.

You were part of Vi’s heart.

And for once, that felt like enough.

A/N :Here the last character of Arcane -> V. I. Hope u like it. Have a good reading! Lot of love !! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

It's gonna be the first one and there are two other imagines!

Summary: Everyone sees Vi as unshakable. Tough. The punch-first-ask-later girl. But late at night, when it’s just you and her on a rooftop with the city quiet for once, she lets her guard down. With you, she’s soft and terrified. Pairing: Vi x Reader Word Count: ~1,100 Warnings: Fluff, emotional vulnerability, soft Vi, light language

It had been a long day. The kind that leaves dirt on your face, blood on your sleeves, and a silence in your chest you don’t know how to name.

You were sitting on the rooftop behind Benzo’s. Your usual spot. Quiet. High enough above the chaos to pretend it didn’t exist, at least for a little while.

Then boots on the ladder.

You didn’t have to turn around.

Vi climbed up, pulled herself over the edge, and sat beside you like she’d done it a hundred times. Like she belonged there. Like you’d been waiting for her.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just exhaled hard and stared out over the city like it was mocking her.

After a while, you asked, “Rough day?”

She gave a soft, tired laugh. “Aren’t they all?”

You let the silence stretch again. Let her sit in it, breathe it in.

Then, quietly, she said, “I don’t know how to do this.”

You turned your head, brows pulling together. “Do what?”

“This,” she gestured between you. “Be close to someone. Not… with my fists.”

You didn’t answer right away. Just watched her. The way her shoulders stayed tense, like even now she was waiting for something to fall apart.

“You don’t have to do it perfect,” you said gently. “You just have to be here.”

Her eyes flicked to yours. Searching.

Then, like a wave crashing before she could stop it, she leaned in.

And kissed you.

It wasn’t practiced. Wasn’t smooth or slow. It was urgent like she’d been holding her breath for weeks and just remembered how to exhale.

Her hands cupped your face like she was scared you’d disappear. Your fingers found the side of her jaw, grounding her. She kissed you like she didn’t know how to be soft but wanted to try just for you.

When she pulled back, she didn’t let go.

Foreheads pressed together. Breath mingling. Her voice was raw when she spoke.

“I don’t want to lose this.”

“You’re not going to,” you said. And meant it.

Her hands were still shaking.

But she stayed.

And that was everything for you.

A/N : Here's last one ! Have a good reading and good weekend! Lot of love! !