#He yearns for the labs
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princeofuchiha · 5 months ago
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Tobirama, some time after Hashirama's death: What do you mean I have to be the inspiring one now. That's not- I mean. Fuck.
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fizzytoo · 2 years ago
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i can’t watch pacific rim and just be normal
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misswynters · 2 months ago
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The Noble Daughter
Viktor x fem! reader / wc. 1.5k
synopsis: You are the daughter of a influential noble house. And Viktor is your little secret.
warnings: 18+, smut ofc, getting caught, him whimpering, soft sex 🫶🏼, reader getting eaten out, switch lean sub! vik, fingering
there might be some mistakes… -.-
[note | pls don’t just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned <3
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Every shadow and flicker seemed to embrace the secrecy of your meeting, cocooning you in a world that was just yours and his. Viktor turned at the touch of your hand on his shoulder, his amber eyes widening in surprise before they softened, filled with a mixture of longing and tenderness that made your heart ache.
"You shouldn't be here," he murmured, his voice low and gentle, laced with both worry and desire. But his hand found its way to your waist, as though he couldn't bear the thought of letting you go.
"I had to see you," you whispered back, lifting a hand to his cheek, fingers grazing the roughness of his stubble. He leaned into your touch, and before either of you could say another word, his lips met yours.
The kiss started soft, hesitant, but soon grew with a fierce urgency. Viktor's hands moved to your waist, pulling you close, as if he needed to make up for every second you'd been apart. He broke the kiss only to breathe, his lips brushing over your cheek, your jaw, leaving a trail of heat wherever they touched. You leaned back against his worktable, the cool metal pressing into your back.
With a glance up at you, Viktor lifted the edge of your blue dress, his fingers grazing the bare skin of your thigh. The contact of his hands sent a shiver up your spine. His gaze flickered up, silently asking permission, and at your nod, he continued, his hands guiding you, exploring every curve with a careful reverence.
"Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice gentle, his eyes searching yours, filled with both longing and concern. "I don't want you to feel..."
"Viktor," you murmured, sliding a hand along his jaw, tilting his face so he could see the determination in your eyes. "I’m in desperate need of your touch."
He bit his lip and with a shaky breath, Viktor nodded. His eyes never leaving yours as he positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your waist. He entered you slowly as he filled you inch by inch. This is what you were yearning for. His eyes were shut close trying to suppress his sounds, however here and there a whimper would slip through.
Each thrust was met with the wet, quiet sounds of your bodies slapping against each other, amplifying every sensation in the silence of the lab. All you could hear was the wet squelching sounds you’re pussy made as he continued to fill you.
As he moved, Viktor's hands slid under your thigh, lifting one leg to rest against his hip. The new angle sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you bit down on your lip to keep from crying out, your nails pressing into his shoulders.
Viktor's breath grew heavier, his forehead pressing against yours as he tried to hold back his own sounds. His gaze dropped down between you, watching where you were joined, the sight sending a shiver through him that made him let out a quiet whimper, his grip tightening on your thigh.
He began a slow, steady rhythm, each movement creating soft, wet squelching sound that continued to grow rapidly. The intimacy of it, the restraint you both held, only made the tension coil tighter. Viktor's gaze was intense, filled with both wonder and awe as he watched the way your bodies moved together. "I never thought..." he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "You're... everything I dreamed of."
You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a breathless kiss, muffling both your gasps as he quickened his pace. The sounds between you grew louder, the wet, rhythmic noises blending with the quiet hum of the lab, filling the space with a symphony meant only for the two of you. Every motion, every shift, was precise, Viktor's movements guided by both his passion and his care for you.
The tension built, coiling tight as Viktor's restraint began to slip. His breaths came in shallow gasps, and his eyes met yours with a look so full of longing, of devotion, that it nearly undid you. You clung to him, burying your face against his shoulder to stifle the moans that threatened to escape, your body moving in time with his, caught up in the quiet, forbidden passion.
With a quiet, trembling sigh, Viktor buried himself fully, his own quiet whimpers echoing softly in your ear as he felt you shudder around him. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining, grounding you as the last waves of pleasure washed over you both.
In the stillness that followed, Viktor pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, his hands still resting at your waist, as though he couldn't bear to let go. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice full of awe and tenderness. "For loving me... for being here."
Moments have passed since you have reached your first organism and you were still on the table. As the quiet settled over the lab, Viktor held you close for a few lingering breaths, his forehead pressed gently against yours. But soon, the intensity in his gaze softened, replaced by a tenderness that left you breathless.
With a quiet reverence, he carefully knelt before you, his hands resting on your thighs. He was weary to not hurt himself which would cause him more pain on his limp leg. Viktor’s golden eyes met yours as he slowly lowered himself, his expression filled with something almost worshipful. He pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, then to your thigh, each touch lingering as though he was committing every inch of you to memory. His lips moved higher, grazing over your skin with soft, open-mouthed kisses that left a warm, tingling trail in their wake.
Your breath hitched as his mouth moved closer towards your pussy, the intensity of the moment making your heart pound.
Viktor's metal fingers traced along your thigh, the coolness of his touch a delicious contrast to the heat he was leaving with his lips. His long, slender fingers followed the curve of your leg, slipping inside your walls with a grace that was gentle. You felt his thumb press softly against your skin, steadying you, while his other hand reached up to rest at your waist, grounding you in the moment.
The coldness of his metal hand sent a shiver through you, heightening every sensation, and he seemed to notice, a slight smile tugging at his lips. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a hint of mischief in his gaze. "Still alright?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern, but his tone held a knowing warmth.
You managed a nod, your hand reaching down to thread through his hair, tugging him slightly closer. His lips quirked into a soft smirk before he returned his focus to you, pressing another kiss to your folds. His mouth moved with a slow, deliberate patience. His kisses growing bolder and deeper, as his tongue darted inside you.
Viktor's metal fingers traced light patterns along your skin, each touch careful, his control a testament to his dedication. As he moved higher, his thumb pressed gently along the inside of your thigh, guiding you open for him with a mixture of care and desire. The coolness of his touch, combined with the warmth of his lips, sent tremors through you that you could barely contain.
His mouth hovered near your folds, his breath warm against you, but he paused, looking up with a gaze full of tenderness. "You're... beautiful," he whispered, his voice barely a murmur, as though he was confessing a secret.
Before you could respond, his lips finally met your pussy, a quiet, reverent kiss that left you dizzy. His metal fingers continued their journey, a gentle, precise touch that sent waves of sensation through you, heightening every nerve. He took his time, savoring each reaction, each shiver, his mouth and hands working in tandem as he explored, worshipping every part of you with a devotion that left you breathless.
As his cool fingers reached deeper, finding your sensitive spots. His mouth followed, leaving soft, lingering kisses that melted any remaining restraint. The contrast of his cold touch and the warmth of his mouth created a rhythm that had you gripping the edge of the table, biting down on your lip to keep from crying out.
Viktor's pace quickened, his cool fingers moving with a newfound intensity. Each motion was calculated yet filled with passion, his gaze flickering between his hand and your face, drinking in every reaction, every quiet sound you made. His metal fingers, precise and deft, moved inside you at a pace that left you breathless, teetering on the edge as he guided you closer with each stroke.
He murmured soft, breathy reassurances between the kisses that he laid on your thighs. His voice filled with warmth."You're perfect... absolutely perfect," he whispered, his free hand caressing the curve of your thigh.
Viktor's replaced his slender fngers with his tongue again, alternating between teasing flicks and deep strokes, savoring every taste. His metal fingers splayed across your thigh, holding you firmly, while his other hand trailed down to his own body. He shivered as he began to touch himself in time with his mouth on you, his quiet moans and hitched breaths vibrating against you, only intensifying your pleasure.
He glanced up now and then, his amber eyes darkened with desire, watching the way you responded, drinking in every soft gasp and tremble. The sight of your flushed face and parted lips seemed to drive him further, his movements becoming more hungry as he lost himself in the pleasure he was giving you. His fingers dug into your skin, his grip tightening as he grew more desperate, his own moans blending with yours, low and needy.
The lab was filled with the squelching sounds of your bodies. A mix of his restrained groans, the wet, rhythmic noises of his mouth, and your own stifled whimpers. You felt like you could cum any second as your stomach turned tighter. Viktor seemed to sense it, as his tongue pressing deeper, his pace quickening. His free hand gripped your thigh harder, pulling you even closer to him, as though he wanted to consume every last bit of you.
Just as you felt yourself reaching the edge, Viktor lifted his head slowly, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. His chest rose and fell in deep, unsteady breaths, his flushed cheeks and slightly dazed expression showing just how much he'd enjoyed himself. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your thighs, grounding you as you came back down, while he gazed up at you with a look of pure adoration.
He brought his metal thumb up to wipe away a stray drop from his chin, a slight, satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You taste... exquisite," he murmured, his voice low and rough, a mix of pride and lingering hunger shining in his eyes as he leaned up to kiss you, letting you taste the passion you had just shared.
Viktor then reached towards your soaked pussy to finger you again. The quiet wet sounds filled the air, amplifying the intimacy of the moment, creating a world that felt entirely your own. But then, a faint creak echoed through the room, and both of you froze. The unmistakable sound of the lab door opening snapped Viktor back to reality, and he stilled, his eyes widening as his gaze shot up to yours. You both turned, just in time to see Jayce entering, a stack of papers in hand.
Jayce's eyes met yours first, and then drifted towards Viktor, his fingers still inside you. For a brief, painful moment, silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the distant hum of hextech machinery. Jayce's expression shifted from surprise to awkward shock as the realization dawned on him. His mouth opened, as though he wanted to say something, but words seemed to fail him.
"I... I didn't mean to interrupt," he finally managed, his tone caught between embarrassment and disbelief. Jayce quickly looked away, his cheeks flushing as he backed out of the room, practically stumbling over his own feet.
"I'll... come back later," he stammered, disappearing from sight. The door clicked shut, leaving the lab filled with silence once more. Viktor's face had gone red, his eyes fixed on the floor, clearly mortified. But as he glanced down at you, the edges of his mouth twitched, and a quiet laugh escaped him, breaking the tension.
"Well," Viktor murmured softly, a hint of humor in his voice, "that... was unexpected." He lifted his soaked fingers towards his mouth as his other hand still lingering on your waist, sucking all of your juices as he maintained eye contact. His mouth made a popping sound as he let his fingers go from in between his lips. He then led his once soaked fingers towards the back of your neck, caressing your hair.
"Perhaps we'll continue... later?" he suggested, his voice low, a promise glinting in his eyes as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. You couldn't help but laugh, nodding as you pulled him into an hug. You hoped that jayce didn’t go out and tell anyone what happened. Because if he did and your parents knew, you would sure be in for a scolding.
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taglist: @luneariaa @minagrayson @aliives @mammonsleftring @gxrextxgaidk @anna1-1 @bl-0-ndi-3
banner: @cafekitsune
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spatialwave · 2 months ago
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just one more.
➸ ask: “Hey! How about “one more kiss, please” from the prompt list for Jayce. I just need him desperately yearning for reader” – ➸ pairing: jayce talis x gn!reader ➸ word count: 1.3k ➸ tags: mdni! fluff, kissing, yearning, mutual pining, gender-neutral reader, no mention of y/n. ➸ notes: tysm for asking! ask came from this prompt!
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You couldn’t count on ten fingers how many nights you dreamt of Jayce Talis, the Man of Progress himself. The image of him rattled through your mind at every waking hour, that stupid smile you always wanted to wipe from his lips with your own. 
What you hadn’t known was how he reciprocated the sentiment. Jayce would find you at your workstation, dirt on your face and welding goggles on as you carefully put together pieces that would host the hextech gemstones for further research. You had become a treasure to him, someone he could rely on when his days were busy, which were more often than not.
There were plenty of times you hadn’t been aware of his presence, he would stand in the doorway watching you work. Hearts for eyes and forcing himself to turn away before his heart ached too much, knowing that you weren’t his.
He yearned for you each day, staying up into the late hours, wondering if you felt the same.
How could you? You were too…perfect. 
It was the night of one of Piltover’s illustrious charity events that brought in only the richest of citizens. Any and all who put in their well-earned money for the academy, and you, had been invited by Jayce himself. Viktor had decided against it, not so much inclined to spend his night at another event when he could be spending his evening in the lab with Sky.
So, you took his spot – and you did not belong.
With your hand wrapped around an empty glass which once held a darkened liquor, you stood off to the side in the large area that had been decorated so elegantly. The tunes of the live music and sounds of chatter filled your ears, eyes looking amongst the swarm of rich Piltovians sharing conversation about gods knows what.
Jayce had been everywhere and nowhere, the Golden Boy was easily the most important icon of the evening. Everyone wanted to talk with him, ask about his research and his plans for improvement of the city. 
It was irritating to be stuck alone, but at least the invitation filled your stomach with top-shelf food and liquor you wouldn’t be able to afford yourself.
There Jayce stood amongst a group of rich folk, eating him up, just like you knew they would. He was surrounded, a big smile on his lips as he moved his way through each conversation with his natural knack of charisma. You wondered what he was talking about, watching his lips move as he spoke so goddamn passionately, hands flying with each word. 
His eyes connected with yours at one point, lingering on you for a quick moment with that stupid smile, before his attention was enraptured by another generous donor.
After a few more minutes of watching, you gave up. There was nothing else for you here.
Footsteps clicked along the surface of the tiled floors, the empty halls more inviting than the gala ever was. Your fingers dragged along the surface of the brick walls, the liquor having left you in just the perfect amount of bliss as you made your way home, knowing you could sleep the next day away.
“Hey!” A voice called from behind you, startling you with a soft gasp.
You snapped your head around, eyes widening when they settled on Jayce hurrying down the hall behind you. He wore a smile, wearing too fancy of clothing to be chasing you down.
“Why are you leaving?” He asked once he reached a few steps away of you, breathing a bit heavy, “Sorry… out of breath,” he chuckled through deep inhales, “I didn’t think I’d catch up to you.”
The thumping of your heart against your rib cage didn’t go unnoticed, stilled in silence over the fact that he chased after you. A tiny smile spread across your lips.
“It’s not really my style,” you finally replied, hands landing on your hips, ��why do you care if I leave?”
“Why do I care?” Jayce’s eyebrows furrowed together, “because I invited you here. I… I want you here.”
You hated how sweet he was.
“You’re a busy man, Jayce,” you smiled, offering a slight shake of your head as you stepped toward him, better seeing him under the dim lighting of the empty hallways, “I’m not too fond of just standing around watching you get swarmed by every wealthy person from Piltover. As inviting as that sounds.”
He snorted out a laugh, eyes watching you closely as you stepped directly below one of the overhanging lights. It illuminated your features perfectly, made you appear like a glowing angel.
“So, you’re just going to leave me here by myself?” He asked, those big eyes of his making you want to melt right into the floor beneath you.
You laughed in disbelief, raising an eyebrow, “you’re not alone.”
“But I want you here,” he was adamant, eyebrows furrowing again, “come on. It’s not that bad.”
“You’re annoying,” you groaned, trying to act like this was worse than it was. You had a flair for the dramatics when you needed to pull something out from your sleeve, “I’ll see you tomorrow anyway, it’s fine,” you brushed him off with a wave of your hand, “plus, you’re going to be busy all night, so if I stay, I’ll end up getting drunk by myself and that’s never turned out well for me.”
Jayce’s eyes flickered over your face, studying your expression carefully. Neither of you had realized how close you had gotten, close enough that he could tuck back some of your hair behind your ear. The movement of his hand made you both tense up, a fleeting touch that he hadn’t realized he’d done. Fingers brushed against the shell of your ear as he pulled his hand away, redness tinting his cheeks.
“Oh, uh–” he forced out an awkward laugh, eyes now looking anywhere other than your face, “you had some hair… in your face.”
Lips parted, but you couldn’t speak. His touched left you stunned in place, eyes big as you watched him. You watched as his eyes focused somewhere along the walls, hands balling into tense fists and teeth biting at his lower lip.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or the late hour of the night, but you hadn’t the slightest care in the world anymore. All you wanted was Jayce, and it was his fault that he made you feel this way, so you were going to pull him into the mess that was you.
Even if it ruined the friendship you worked so hard to maintain, all these years.
His amber eyes landed back on you when he felt your hands reaching to his cheeks, cupping his face oh-so delicately. They widened as he watched you lean closer, noticing the way your gaze flickered down to his lips he’d been habitually chewing on all evening.
Jayce’s heart fluttered, and he acted on what felt right. Meeting you halfway and sighing when your lips touched after years of imagining what this would feel like. 
Both hands reached out for you, resting on your waist as he pressed forward. The kiss developed slowly, lips moving together a bit clumsily as your patience wore thin. Hands explored each other, touching hips and shoulders, and your tongue slipped from between your lips, and that’s when you froze.
“Fuck,” you whispered as you pulled back, taking a slight step away, “sorry–”
“No, don’t,” he whispered, closing the distance with a forward step until your chests were pressed together. He stared deep into your eyes, his own full of love as his gaze continued to flicker down to your lips that he needed to taste again, “one more kiss… please.”
You smiled like an idiot.
“Just one more,” you murmured, rolling your eyes affectionately, before he pulled you back into another kiss that took the breath from your lungs.
Jayce would be the death of you.
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aaksuitac · 2 months ago
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[04:24 am] “what are we?”
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wc: 2.3k
a/n: [fluff viktor brainrot thanks to @dilemmars. t dije q me vengaría baby, así q zas, un payback por tus podcasts jdjfjjsd. hope u like cause its ur fault]
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he’s humming something you don’t quite understand, a distant tune that sounds familiar —probably you’ve heard him sing it before—, and even if you don’t recognize the melody aside from that, you can’t help but appreciate it.
his hands fidget with whatever he can reach as he sighs once more, as if he was stealing breaths from the world, heavy, almost as lidded as his eyelids. his hair falls on his eyes and in between his slender fingers while he curls the untamed strands, and you fall into an endless pit of staring at him as he scribbles, grunts, sighs, and finally pinches the bridge of his nose.
“statistically speaking, i’m starting to feel like the chances of me getting this right are adversatively proportional to the chances of you accidentally swallowing a fly.”
and you just blink, once, then twice.
he stares at you, gives you a pointed look. he can’t really say if you understood that you were just staring at him with your mouth parted, but you squint at him, snickering.
“what,” his low voice fails to ask, unbothered, knowing that you’ll answer regardless.
and you do, answering. “you haven’t even uttered a word in a while. i was just surprised that you could still talk, is all,” you grin cheekily, playing with a screw on the table as you turn left and right on the chair you’re sitting on.
viktor looks at you, and he can’t help but crack a smile. point for you.
“what you laughing for, mhh, mister science?”
“isn’t it enough to bother me from the moment i get inside the lab in the morning that you need to do it at night too?” he pretends seriousness, side-eyeing you teasingly.
“fair enough. i will consider your offer, man of fleeting memory, and take it upon myself to bother you longer.”
his mean stare wouldn’t even make a kitten mewl, but you take you hand to your heart, pretending to be wounded.
“don’t look at me like that! you’ll hurt my feewings,” you pouted, much to his amusement.
“fleeting memory?” he scoffs, accent rolling off his tongue. “when’s the last time you lost a hairtie, mmh?” he mocks.
“unfair!” you can’t help but giggle as you pretend to hide your hair from his view. point for him. “besides. i take better care of my hair than you do of yours.” you pouted smuggly. “mine looks prettier.”
“what?” he finally asks, letting out a chuckle this time as his eyes land on you for the first time in the good part of an hour.
you play with your hair to style it, and funnily pose, hands on your cheeks as you lay your elbows on the table.
“what, don’t I look pretty?” you smiled, letting out a cheeky giggle.
yes. he doesn’t say it, but his eyes haven’t dodged back to his papers just yet. it’s another point for you. so very pretty.
he doesn’t dare. he knows it. his mind, or at least the small portion of his mind that still ties him with the occasional reminder that he’s human, looks at you and wants you in a way that he’s never wanted before.
so viktor resolves in looking at you. maybe only for a moment, maybe only on those fragments of time when he’s tired enough that he looks at the stars and at the moon, yearning to reach them, only to think he’ll miss the moonlight, finally blinking to the realization that he had been staring into your eyes for too long.
his eyes are dull as he stares at you, and your expression of worry at the fact makes his heart skip a beat. “viktor?” you mumble, softly, sleepily, warily. he can’t stop staring at you, and while he supposes success and defeat can look the same in a mirror —therefore, he doesn’t really blame your confusion—, he finds no words to explain which one he’s feeling as you move your chair towards him by a push against the floor, solely accompanied by the sound of the little wheels rolling to him.
he grabs his walking stick and turns it around, pretending to poke at your chair, as if to teasingly shove it away. if you realize that he settles the walking stick just in the correct place so that your stool can’t move back, he doesn’t know. viktor just stares at the floor, to pretend that maybe the way your eyes turn tender when his reflection shines on them has nothing to do with what you’re about to say.
tsk, tsk. clueless viktor.
he’s expecting it, yes, but even with that on mind, he can’t phathom how your course of action chooses laughing as you fidget with the loose button on his vest, the second one from the top down. viktor purposely forces himself to stable his breathing, worry seeping into him, thinking that maybe you could feel his heartbeat grow faster beneath the layers of clothing.
and he feels like the remnants of a cheap ring that stain a finger blue, when comparing himself as he stands —sits— close and next to you. maybe its because you usually wear rings, and he can feel the ghost of them as your hand trails up and absentmindedly fixes his collar.
he can almost see it. your mind working, the pieces falling into place, the—
“either my eyes are deceiving me or yours have been on my lips for a rather long time.”
and he can just. blink. as if that could break how mesmerized he feels, how his heart swells up and covers his throat, how inexplicably he feels when you’re with him, near and alone. the need to know more. the need to use every trinket and screw to map out your body for him to explore, and to map out the wonders of your mind for the world to admire and maybe then find out the reason of his inability to look away.
he was so focused before. used to be.
he is. now, at you. of you. on you.
you.
another point for you. he isn’t keeping count, but something tells him he’s losing.
and as his gaze falls back to your lips in between a battle against your eyes, lost in which to stare and sink into their devotion, he hesitates again.
he thinks its funny. so funny, viktor holds back the dry chuckle that threatens to go past his lips. how to cherish you in a way that matters. how to love, the scientist wonders. is there a way that would allow him to unveil and unravel himself to you? could there be some kind of language, able to express the depth of his insides, that you, too, could understand?
what is love, anyways? is he in love with you because his coffee tastes better when it matches the dark of your pupils? because when he takes the mug from your hand and his fingers brush against yours, it seems warmer? because he notices how the dark shade in your eyes seems to mix with that of your irises, and the way the black eats the colour when you stare at him? because he claims to hate company while he studies alone, but one chair remains empty as he works, waiting for who it was meant for? because when he fails and surrenders himself to the fall, throws his walking stick against the wall, he yearns for your embrace and how your hair smells in the evenings?
is that love? and if it is, could you understand it?
if it is love, and he could say it, would such a short word convey its meaning, or was he speculating just a couple of paragraphs ago? was he assuming the meaning of what love entails?
even so. if he said it, would you repeat it? would you claim you love him because he loves you, claim to love him too? would you instead claim to love him despite everything, even the uncertainty of love itself?
…does he accept it himself?
he’s overwhelmed by the sheer amount of voices in his head. there’s too much chatter. too many questions he can’t answer, too many commas, too many question marks. too much, too much, too many.
so he silences them. makes the voices dim to a deep silence. and when his lips find themselves suddenly against yours, he finds out the true, effervescent meaning of quietness.
his hand fails to pull you closer because of the damn walking stick that gets in the way. or maybe its the chairs you’re both on that clash against each other. maybe its matter itself. for a while, its the first time viktor doesn’t want to know.
in a bold statement, he couldn’t give a fuck.
he’s kissing you.
and it should be bad because of all the unanswered questions. he’s skipping procedure. he’s gone from the fuck around to finding out and he doesn’t know where he is at this point.
what he does know, is that your hand pulls him by his necktie, and he’s gone. science? yours only. the science that he’d study all of the nights he may have left. the science behind what makes you. the science behind how your hand craddles his face while stroking his cheekbones. the science behind how you’re the closest you’ve ever been to him and somehow still not close enough. the science behind the reason why when you pull away makes his heart beat so loudly, as if it had forgotten how to a second ago.
your forehead rests against his. he shouldn’t have done that. he just… did it. maybe that was bad. was it? could it be? he had been waiting for so long too. he never thought he would…
“viktor, what are we?”
and he’s dead. he knows what the question implies, but he doesn’t want to answer. he could follow you like a lost puppy through piltover and zaun and hell knows where else. if he wasn’t dead now he would die right there and now without a second thought, because the feeling that overcame him was that love was suddenly a sentence or two away.
he knows he doesn’t dare. it’s one of the only thing he knows, one of the things he’s sure of.
but somehow, he moves. he stands up, takes the walking stick, and attempts to walk out the feeling that bounces inside him.
the walking stick always makes a noise when he walks, one with dificulties to interpret in terms of onomatopeia. not quite a thud, not deep enough to reach that quality. not a clack, for it is not entirely made of metal. still, as if it was a mix of both, he keeps walking.
viktor is nervous. thud-clack. he’s not moving far from his chair, nor is he going somewhere else. thud-clack. he still keeps pacing. thud-clack. maybe the answer is somewhere in the room. thud-clack. maybe he can reply.
thud-clack, thud-clack, thud-clack.
only does he then realize that he hasn’t answered your question. and a non-answer statement might as well be a rejection.
no. no, no, no. fuck.
he’s sitting again, but you stand up. your hair follows, long. moving and brushing against the skin of your shoulders in a way that he can’t help but claim it to be endearing.
you’re walking. you don’t make any kind of extra sound when you walk. your heels reverberate against the floor like any other, yet also they mark the beat of his heart.
he can’t reach for you. you walk too fast.
you stop when you feel the walking stick on your side. the part made for him to lean on as he walks hooks you, and you stand, not facing him.
he doesn’t use the walking stick as he stands. no, he keeps it hooked to your core, scared that you might leave. you could, he wouldn’t blame you. but he can’t allow it.
he holds it in the air as he takes one step. another step. you’re turning, surprised to see him standing, and you gasp when he lets himself fall on you.
your touch surrounds him. yes. that’s the closeness he needed. he drops the walking stick, his hands slithering on your body, pressing you against him, for no reason at all yet because it is all needs.
“what can we be?” he whispers. he takes the science approach. the viktor approach.
he isn’t too clueless after all.
he raises enough to look at your darkened, sleepy eyes. he wants to drown in them.
“if i wanted to kiss you everytime you hand me coffee, wanted you to sit on the same chair as ne and hug me from behind as I work, wanted you.” he swallows dry. “then, what can we be?”
he doesn’t want to say the words, and its petty.
it’s the 31st when the clock strickes five am and your hands travel through his hair to kiss him again. to unbalance him enough that he falls back on his chair and you follow him, sitting on his lap.
and as he kisses you, his hands worshipping the skin he can touch, the warmth he can feel through layers of clothing, he feels like maybe there’s a life worth living, so he can’t ask.
he’s heard boys and girls when he was young talk about it. “he didn’t want to celebrate our month-versary,” a girl cried as he played with his little boat, watching from afar as she was comforted by her friend.
it’s the 31st. and he can’t really ask the question now, because if he says it, how could you celebrate each month?
he moves the chair and holds you in his arms as your back falls against the table before him. maybe he can kiss you until next month. until the clock strikes and it’s the 1st.
he smiles as he kisses you, feeling you pull his necktie off. he thinks it’s the best idea he’s had in a while. and a true scientist always tries out their hypothesis.
~k.k. (☆) have fun!
aaksuitac, november 2024 ©
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noxcheshire · 11 months ago
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I just think
It’d be really neat if Danny looked more like Martha Wayne than Thomas Wayne.
LIKE
I love the Danny Fenton looks like Thomas Wayne or Danny Fenton is Thomas Wayne reincarnated — but the BEAUTY of Martha??
Of Alfred interacting for under five minutes with Danny, dabbing his eyes and going, “That is indeed Martha,” I WANT IT. I want Martha who was spunky and sassy and wanted to do good for her town the same way Danny wants to do good for Amity Park.
I want Martha who loved to take Bruce and the family out to star gaze because her baby had never seen the stars before, and the way his eyes light up like a mini galaxy takes her breathe away the same way that Danny feels when he turns his head up to the sky yearning for something he knew loved but doesn’t know what.
I want Martha who would literally find trouble in a paper bag because she can’t help her curiosity the same way Danny can’t help tripping over his own ghostly tail and making a mess of things before he figures things out.
I want Martha who would fight men who thought they held power, going absolutely feral from stress the same way Danny does when he’s tired of not being able to do his homework or pick up a vacuum against the wall to clean because ghosts.
I want Martha who loved the pearl necklace that Bruce had picked out for her birthday, and Danny reaches towards his neck and startles when his fingers only touch skin when he is certain there was something supposed to be there. I want Danny whose eyes linger on whites and pearls when he passes by open window stores in the mall, fingers itching to flick a nail against the smooth surfaces.
I want Martha who died bleeding underneath the hand of a gun, hoping to everything above that her boy would be safe, and Danny whose body burns at merely looking at the makeshift guns his parents create in the lab, his heart pounding desperately with a yearning to save there was someone she wanted to save the ghosts.
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leurdhavemerky · 26 days ago
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Only in His Dreams (Part 1/2)
Viktor yearning for you harddd.
Contents: Academy/scientist gn!reader, you're starring in one of his dreams, suggestive
Word count: 400
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Viktor's new hobby is admiring you from afar. He adoringly observes the details of your face while you work. His heartbeat quickens as you enchant him during conversation, even if you're speaking about ordinary lab procedures. Those rare interactions are magical.
He wishes he could summon the courage to initiate something. Anything. Making small talk, asking a question, or just greeting you by name- if you even knew his.
Viktor drifted to sleep one night, a marbled swirl of emotions painted on the canvas of his subconscious.
----
A light pink haze clouded his vision, and his face felt feverishly hot. Viktor was vulnerable, standing alone in the living room of someone else's home. He couldn't see straight. It was all a bit blurry- a watercolor piece. He tried to speak, yet it felt as if his vocal chords were coated in thick honey.
An unidentifiable humming began, faintly at first. The subtle tune eased his nerves, and he was sure that he was safe, even in this house of mystery.
Viktor finally lifted his cane and began to wander slowly, suspecting that the rose-scented trail of pink fog he followed had something to do with his weary state.
Warm light spilled out of a small crack between the sides of a door and it's frame. The trail ended here, where the soothing humming grew prominent.
Viktor's hands instinctively opened the door, before his mind registered the action. The hinges creaked quietly, revealing the singer.
It was you, just out of a hot shower, small drops of water still clinging to your skin.
Viktor swallowed and his pupils dilated, shocked by his unintended intrusion. Through the warm steam left over from your shower, you hadn't noticed him, and you continued your sweet song, wrapping your heavenly body in a thin towel.
Was he invisible to you? He turned to the slightly steamy mirror, but the reflection that belonged to him was missing. He glanced back at the angel before him. With a soft gaze, he admired you, and opened his mouth, but only a light, desperate breath would come out.
----
He stirred awake, whispering your name longingly. Each sound left his lips slowly, passion-filled. Viktor tensed his grip on his cold pillow, coming out of the romantic trance. He groaned, realizing that his hands weren't tracing your features.
Something. Anything.
Part 2 here
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straightoutthehexcore · 25 days ago
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𝙃𝙚𝙭𝙚𝙙 <3
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Side note can we talk about how this version of Viktor and hexcore (rainbow) Viktor are the best versions of him? Did bro say Glorious Ovulation because holyyyyyyyyyyyy 0///0
𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧: Viktor my beloved <3
𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: Just general romantic/some NSFW headcanons for my favorite boy. You can picture these with whichever Viktor you want (I guess), but I feel S1 Viktor fits best.
𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: NSFW themes (edging, eating out, praise kink on both sides if you squint, public sex fantasies), AFAB reader (mostly intended to be fem! reader but I'll be extra careful for my nonbinary/ftm friends)
𝙍𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨
First off, I wholeheartedly believe in asexual/gay Viktor, and I am 100% a JayVik shipper, but a girl can also dream that he's bisexual with a male preference. It's a stretch, I know.
That's what we get for liking our men fruity.
Absolutely adores acts of service (his favorite), but physical touch (like the forehead touch that zaunites do, and other subtle movements) and verbal reassurance are things that make him feel appreciated.
Not huge on displaying his affections anywhere but in private. Nobody would even know that you guys are together and he likes it that way. He already has enough eyes on him, though they're mainly on Jayce.
Not big on names either, and idk if Czech exists in the LoL universe (as saddening as it is). He sticks with mentioning you as his "partner," though a "love" will sometime slip out when the two of you are alone.
"Can you please pass me those notes, my love?" "Do you need any help, love? You look... frustrated." "My cane is all the way across the room, can you please bring it to me, my love?"
You have to try your damnedest to either get into his lab to see him or to get him to turn in for the night. He reasons that this research is vital to his well-being, but so is rest. It usually doesn't work, so you at least bring him something to eat/drink.
I look at that man and think "pathetic twink," but with his attitude/personality, I can actually see him as more of a dominant figure in a romantic relationship. He is very sassy, he is assertive, and he is blunt. He doesn't look like he'd be like that, so it's a welcome surprise.
Generally a patient partner and is perfectly fine with slow-moving relationships. Actually, he prefers them. Not only does he enjoy the feeling of quiet, calm yearning, but he sees no reason for turbulence if one is trying to create a lifelong connection (which is what he generally looks for).
Viktor is all-around really thoughtful, and even when you don't think he's listening, he'll remember the events of your day with perfect accuracy and even the food you mentioned eating this morning. Even the way you phrase things, he has sharp memory and is very considerate and attentive.
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𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨
I headcanon that he is 100% a virgin
Switch, but top leaning. Let me explain.
Just as I said he was more dominant in romantic relationships, once he is comfortable with a partner, he also becomes more sexually dominant as well. This might take him a while but I SWEAR it's worth it.
Limited mobility hinders a lot of things he wishes he could do (he'd be more experimental if not for it). He sometimes psychs himself out and gets a little worried that he's leaving you unsatisfied.
His back specifically makes it hard for him to completely bend or move around, so he’s often either sitting or laying down. (Also suffers whenever he arches his back out of pleasure)
Please tell this man he’s perfect or even sufficient the way he is, compliment his waist/back, his thin face, his thin frame, anything he is insecure about. He secretly loves this, and he has an inferiority complex due to his many ailments and his social status (as he is still from Zaun.)
More of a giver than a receiver, he takes more pleasure in feeling your fingers in his hair while he overstimulates you with his tongue. Very skilled for someone who has NEVER done that stuff.
He is such a sweet dom, mostly ever lets out whimpers and small moans, as well as pure, sweet compliments, or the very rare tease. However, if you ever hear him curse under his breath, you know it's good.
Prettiest fucked-out expression EVER, eyes rolled back, head thrown back, back arching, the whole shabang.
Mainly has you riding him, his face, etc. One time he told you that you didn't need to hover and it was okay for a LITTLE but then he found it difficult. He still loves to have you fully seated while he works his magic.
Into edging and is really cheeky about it. He'll make the most smug expressions while eating you out or... rather, stopping before you finish. Part of him likes seeing you struggle, it's funny to him.
Absolutely communication driven, but gets a bit more confident as the relationship progresses. He doesn't want to overstep, and wants to know what you want/don't want, but will make use of that knowledge later.
Cannot be coerced out of work with sex. Thanks for trying. Maybe when he gets home, but he's usually either sleeps at the lab or is too sleepy at home. It is an unwelcome distraction and it genuinely frustrates him.
Speaking of the lab, he does feel really flustered and ashamed to admit that he has fantasies about you sitting on the desk and him going at it-- tongue, dick, all of it. It isn't a huge thing for him, but it pops into his head every once in a while.
11/10 aftercare, though you wish your already debilitated partner wouldn't try to rush around after he exerted himself so much. He rushes around to get you cleaned up, make you tea, all of it. He insists on doing things for you first.
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I hope I fed the Viktor enjoyers, I love you guys and hope you're doing well after the events of S2. Stay strong Viktor nation, and as for Jayce...?
Jaybe.
This is my first Arcane headcanon post and definitely not my last. :D
Thanks for reading! Rosey <3
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mariasont · 9 months ago
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The Receptionist - S.R
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a/n: i need this man on an astronomical level actually
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x receptionist!bimbo!reader
summary: spencer meets the new receptionist for chief cruz
warnings: fluff
wc: 0.8k
The click-clack of your polished nails on the keys mingled with the sharp pops of bubblegum as you focused on lining up Chief Cruz's appointments in the system. Taking a pause, you pulled out your notebook encased in pink frills from your drawer, and delicately turned its pages to reveal the week's agenda.
With the appointment freshly noted, you let your pen waltz around the margins, leaving behind a trail of doodles. With a subtle shift, you crossed your legs, the shiny pink heels tapping together, their color complementing the delicate fabric of your skirt.
You traced another heart around the date, and just then, a soft voice hesitantly broke the silence, "Excuse me?"
You looked up to find a pair of curious hazel eyes framed by brown curls that almost seemed to be begging to be touched, and his lips, which held a shy smile made your heart do a summersault. I mean, come on, what are these FBI guys made lab-grown or something?
He was draped in a form-fitting vets over a neatly pressed shirt, his sleeves were rolled up just so, in a way that paused your movements freeze and coaxed a heat to spread across your cheeks. Well, hello there.
He seemed briefly caught off-guard, his eyes flickering over your pink-themed workspace, a distinct departure from the former receptionist's subdued setup. He was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things that now occupied the space.
With an enthusiastic bounce, you popped up from your seat, beaming brightly.
"Oh, hi there! How can I help you?" Gently straightening your skirt, you offered a hand, your name rolling off your tongue, "Are you here for Chief Cruz?"
The man's touch was soft against your palm, his attention caught by the soft clinking of your delicate bracelets, while your nails, painted a meticulous shade of pink that matched the color of your shirt, settled against the back of his hand.
"Spencer Reid," he introduced. "I have an appointment with Chief Cruz regarding a specialized training session for new recruits."
His gaze held yours a tad too long, cataloging the details of your appearance--the brightness of your eyes, the soft curve of your lips, the radiant glow of your skin.
A look of pleasant surprise crossed your face.
"You're the famous Dr. Reid! I've heard a lot about you," you remarked, a giggle accompanying your words as you eased back into your seat, giving a quick, knowing glance at your calendar. "Ah, here you are. I'll let Chief Cruz know you're here. He's currently in a meeting, but it shouldn't be too much longer."
As you pretended to focus on the screen, your mind raced. Dr. Reid--the genius with multiple PhDs, and now, the man who stood before you, unexpectedly  drop-dead handsome.
It was a challenge to maintain professionalism, especially when every fiber of your being yearned to do nothing but drink in his appearance. I mean, you were only human.
"Just Spencer is fine," he offered with an easy smile. "Where's Mrs. Henderson?"
You were beautiful to say the least, not at all what he was expecting to see when he walked in this morning, quite the difference from the former receptionist, whose age had been marked by the hard candies she offered.
"Oh, she retired last month!" you said with a bright smile. "So now, Chief Cruz is stuck with me!" Leaning in, chin cradled by your hands, you gaze at him incredulously. "Three PhDs, huh? That's, like, beyond Einstein-level smarts, isn't it?"
Spencer's cheeks tinged with a hint of color as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck.
"Well, not quite," he admitted with a modest shrug. He then glanced around the office before his eyes settled back on you. "How are you finding the job here so far?"
"Impressive, yet so modest," you commented. Standing up, you clicked print on the computer. "And it's great, I really love it here. I mean, it's not as thrilling as chasing down bad guys, I'm sure, but I think I'll stick to what I'm good at."
As you made your way to the printer, Spencer interjected. "No, I got it."
He returned with the papers, handing them to you with a gentle smile. 
"Thanks," you said, taking the papers. "So, you do that profiling thing right?" You tapped a finger against your lips, pretending to ponder. "Let's see... I'm guessing you're a Libra, aren't you? Probably born in early October, I'd say."
"What gave it away?"
You flashed a wink, the pop of your bubblegum punctuating the air. "I may have taken a sneak peek at your file."
With a light-hearted laugh, Spencer revealed a smile so grand it seemed to light up the entire space and you couldn't help but smile in response. You liked his smile, a lot. 
Spencer's response was cut short by the ring of the phone. You quickly answered as the great receptionist you are.
"Okie dokie, sir, I'll send him right back!" You listened for a second, then replied with a giggle. "No, thank you, sir!" You turned to Spencer, your smile wide, "He's ready for you!"
"Thanks," Spencer said with a nod, "It was great to meet you." He took a few steps towards Chief Cruz's office before pausing and turning back. "You know, maybe I should give you my number. For work purposes, in case you have questions or need help with anything."
You nodded eagerly, your smile reaching from ear to ear. "Absolutely, for work purposes."
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greengoblinswifey · 9 days ago
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Yearning—Luigi Mangione x Fem!Reader
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summary— you’ve had a crush on Luigi Mangione, the popular frat boy for three years. after attending his engineering club, you both finally confess. based on this and this request.
warnings— fluff, luigi is a sweetheart, thigh riding, praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie.
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Luigi Mangione. God, where to start? Jackie Kennedy’s letter about JFK came to mind whenever he would infiltrate your thoughts.
“And I remember when I met him, it was so clear that he was the only one for me.”
“He was charismatic, magnetic, electric and everybody knew it.”
“When he walked in every woman’s head turned, everybody stood up to talk to him.”
That summed up how you felt about him. That summed up him as a person.
You and Luigi started attending Penn at the same time. He became a frat boy but unlike his fraternity brothers, he was different. He was kind, extremely intellectual, respectful and everyone seemed to love him. Most days, you sat in the far corner of the library reading, watching Luigi as he studied with his friends or came in to do research.
Whenever you would glimpse him around campus he was always smiling, surrounded by friends and sometimes even professors. He was involved in clubs and societies, assisted his peers and even volunteered. He was a model student and it was clear he was from a good upbringing. Everyone loved him and was interested in what he had to say. He was such a people person and in the best way possible. With all those extraordinary characteristics, it was no wonder you developed a crush on him.
His dark curls were beautiful and at times you imagined what it would feel like to run your fingers through them. His thick eyebrows made him even more handsome and you thought that especially when they were not plucked and developing into a uni brow. His strong jawline, his nose—he had a facial harmony unlike any other man you had ever seen. Every single part of him was admirable, he was exactly the kind of man you craved. You’d never met anyone like Luigi.
And he had never met anyone like you. But you didn’t know that—at least not yet.
Throughout your three years at the university, you were too shy to initiate any conversation with him. It wasn’t that he seemed mean—it just seemed as though you were in two different worlds. You were nerdy and he was a popular frat boy. It was a tale as old as time, someone like him would never go for someone like you, so you pushed the idea of something sparking to the back of your mind.
The closest you’d ever gotten to speaking to him was when he would tell you good morning or good afternoon when he’d pass by. He was always so polite. His smooth voice had your heart beating fast and at times, you could barely manage to give a response. You weren’t even sure if you gave a response, your thoughts were louder than your voice.
Though these interactions were minuscule, you held them close to your heart. You yearned from afar and at the end of the day, you’d go back to your dorm and daydream. You felt like a teenager again, crushing on a boy, writing about him in your journal, he made you feel alive. He gave you hope that there were good men.
The entire class sighed as the lengthy lecture ended. It was a Friday, the last day of classes and usually the day frat parties were thrown. You weren’t interested, you’d usually take those days to read a book or write something.
As you gathered your books to exit lecture hall, your professor stopped you. “You’re a good student. I’d like to have you in my engineering club at 3, I promise it’ll be insightful.”
You thought for a moment. Your Fridays were usually spent in isolation so it wouldn’t hurt to give your professor and his club a chance. “Sure. I’ll be there, in the lab on the first floor right?” Your professor nodded happily and you have him a polite smile, exiting the lecture hall.
Once you entered your dorm, you collapsed on the plush bed. You had about two hours before the club would start, until then you’d take a shower then pick something to wear. It wasn’t like it was a special occasion, but you never did anything on Fridays.
As you picked out a chic outfit from your closet, it came to you. Luigi was in the engineering club. In fact, he was a dedicated member. The realization had your heart thumping faster in your chest. You would be in an intimate space with him for however long. You needed to look your best. You always did but now, more than ever.
After a soothing shower, your mind focused on how you would manage to keep your eyes of Luigi, you wrapped yourself in a robe and began getting ready. You applied makeup that highlighted your features and by the time you were finished, the club would be starting in just a few minutes.
Great. Your first time attending and you were late. Now, everyone’s eyes would be on you as you walked in, including his. The thought made you shudder and your heart beat faster.
Just as predicted you were late, slowly pushing the door to the lab open ten minutes after the engineering club had began. After taking a deep breath, you stepped inside.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. Good afternoon,” you apologized politely as you closed the door.
Turning around, you realized the room of six people were staring as you walked in.
The only person who caught your eyes was Luigi Mangione. He was as handsome as the day you first saw him, his thick eyebrows quirked upwards and his soft, piercing gaze locked on yours.
“That’s fine. I’m glad you’re here, the club is usually filled but seeing as there’s some big frat party, no one came,” your professor chuckled but your gaze remained on your crush.
You were snapped out of your gaze when your professor gestured for you to sit in the empty seat beside Luigi.
The thought of having to sit next to him made your legs wobbly. Not like you had a choice so with your gaze still locked on his, you slowly made your way over to the empty seat.
“Good afternoon.” Luigi’s voice rang in your ear as you sat down and you hesitantly turned to look at him, returning the sentiment in a meek voice. He was always so respectful, you were the one who came and saw him, you should’ve been the one to greet him.
For the next few minutes, you zoned out. Whatever the professor and the club members spoke about was background noise as your mind swarmed with thoughts about the man beside you. That was until you heard his soothing voice answer whatever question was asked.
Slowly, you turned your head to look at him as he spoke. His side profile was ethereal, his jawline flexing as he spoke about what engineering meant to him. He was so intelligent and the entire room listened intently, grasping each word that left his lips. His presence commanded attention, you craved a man like him. You craved him.
“Do you agree?” Luigi turned to face you, a small smile on his lips. Your eyes widened for a second. Was he actually talking to you?
“Y-yeah, I do,” you said, simply.
You wanted the earth to swallow you whole right then and there. You couldn’t believe you actually stuttered in front of him.
As the time began winding down, you tried to push your overthinking to the back of your mind, wanting nothing more than to dash to your dorm and scream into a pillow.
“And that’s it for today folks. I hope you all enjoyed especially my special guest, same time next week?” your professor asked, a big smile on his face.
You nodded sweetly but you knew you weren’t coming back. Not after stuttering while you talked to your crush.
Quickly, you exited the lab, determination in your steps as you made your way back to your dorm.
“Y/N! Wait up!” You stopped in your tracks hearing his voice call after you. He knew your name.
“Is everything okay?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, Luigi was standing in front of you, concerned about your well being.
“I’m fine, Luigi. And you?” you asked, fidgeting with the bracelet on your wrist.
“Really nervous, I can’t lie.”
He was nervous, why would he be nervous speaking to you? “Why would you be nervous?” you inquired, confusion etched on your face as you avoided eye contact.
“Fuck, okay, let me start. So, uh, these past three years I’ve been trying to talk to you, but I’ve never been able to go beyond greeting you. Sometimes, you wouldn’t even respond, other times, you just had this look on your face that seemed like you didn’t want me to talk to you. And I’m not insulting your looks or anything,” he said frantically, hands held up in self defense, “you’re beautiful, really beautiful. And then today, when you walked in looking like this—”
He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair, watching as your eyes widened with each word. “When you walked in looking so beautiful, I knew I had to confess. You gave me a look too—that look in your eye that told me you feel what I feel too. Fuck, I’ve had a crush on you for so long. I’ve admired you all these years, and now I finally have the courage to confess.”
Your lips parted slightly, heart beating so loudly in your chest you could hear it in your ear. Luigi felt the same way you had felt since the moment you saw him. He wanted you just as bad. The popular frat boy had been nursing a crush on you all these years and he—him of all people, had been nervous to to confess.
“Me too, God, me too. I feel the same way. I’ve had a crush on you since the day I saw you, ever since then you’ve been stuck in my head. I see you around school a-and you’re everything I could ever want but I was just so scared to even say anything, you’re popular and I’m not and I thought—”
Your frantic confession was cut short when his large hands cupped your cheeks. His eyes fluttered shut as he titled his head and pressed a slow kiss that was hesitant at first. Once you wrapped your arms around his neck, the kiss grew deeper, though still gentle.
He smiled into your lips and you smiled against his, your heart fluttering. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear. I felt like I’ve waited my entire life to kiss you,” he beamed.
You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as your cheeks heated. Then, the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Would you like to come back to my dorm?”
“Yeah—I mean are you sure?” Luigi asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Never been sure about anything as much as I am now.” Your new found confidence shocked you and you walked back to your dorm across campus, fingers laced together. Were you in a dream? Did the man you had been crushing on for three whole years feel the same way too? You couldn’t believe it but you’d make the best of it until you could.
Walking to your dorm you got many stares—it wasn’t everyday the most desired frat boy held hands with a random, reserved girl. He sensed your slight discomfort and squeezed your hand, giving you that reassuring smile you had always seen him give to others. Now, it was yours.
As you unlocked the door of your dorm, barely managing to close it behind you, you were gently pushed up against it. Luigi had his arms on either side of your head.
“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he chuckled. “I need to hear you say it. Do you have feelings for me?”
The tension in the room was palpable, his sweet, strong cologne enveloped your senses making your head swoon and your thighs clench instinctively. Though it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“I have feelings for you Luigi, I really, really like you. More than you could even imagine.�� His eyes softened at your words as if it was the one thing he needed to be told.
“Fuck, princess. I like you too, a lot. The way I feel about you, I’ve never felt that for anyone else. You’re all I’ve thought about for three whole years and I wish I wasn’t such a pussy and made a move sooner so we could’ve had more time together. So I could’ve had you all to myself sooner.”
This was what you had always wanted to hear and experiencing it in real time was far better than any daydream you had ever conjured up.
Now, it was your turn to interject. Your hands wrapped around his neck, bringing his head down into an intense, all consuming kiss. Your body pressed flush against him and his hands went under your thighs, instinctively. You jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist and he caught you.
“Is this real?” Luigi asked breathlessly, as he sat on your bed with you in his arms.
You giggled and snuggled into his neck, inhaling his scent and making sure your hands remained on him. You wondered if it was real too and you didn’t want to take your hands off him, scared he would just be a figment of your imagination and disappear.
He littered gentle kisses all over your face and you hadn’t even registered what you were doing until you felt a jolt of pleasure course through you. You moved back and forth on his now prominent bulge, and you both moaned in unison.
You were clad in a short dress and it rode up with the only thing separating you being your thong, his jeans and boxers. His hands hesitantly went to your hips and you stared into his eyes as you were grinding on his bulge. His hazel eyes were lust blown and his lips parted as low moans escaped. God, those moans. They were music to your ears.
“This feels so good, baby, are you okay?” he asked, breathlessly.
“Shhh, just hold me,” you whispered, feeling your orgasm on the horizon.
He guided you back and forth and pressed his forehead against yours, your breathing increasing.
“Be a good girl and cum for me sweetheart, it’s okay. I know you want to,” he whispered.
At his command you gripped his bicep, your entire body convulsing as you stared into his eyes and came in your panties.
He held you close, rubbing your back as you slowly came down from your high. “That’s it, such a good girl,” he cooed. You couldn’t believe just grinding against him made you cum that hard, if you weren’t so caught up in the moment, you would’ve been embarrassed.
“Lu, I need more,” you pleaded, voice thick with emotion.
As soon as the words left your lips, his eyes glinted in a way you hadn’t seen before. He slipped off your dress, staring into your eyes and when he found no hesitation, he unclasped your bra.
His eyes widened at the sight of your bare chest before him, nipples hard. “You’re absolutely stunning, can I touch you? Taste you?”
“Please,” you rasped.
His head dipped and you couldn’t help but moan, feeling his tongue swirl around your hardened nipples. He moved to the other neglected breast, engulfing it with his mouth and suckling, while gently pinching the other. Your fantasy was finally fulfilled as you ran your fingers through his dark curls, back arching into his touch.
Abruptly, he placed you on the bed and slid to his knees, opening your legs to reveal the heaven that resided between. “Am I allowed to touch you? Can I taste you sweetheart? It’s entirely your decision if you want me to.”
“Yes, please.” He slid off your wet panties, tossing it aside and taking a moment to marvel at your glistening pussy before his head went between your legs.
The feeling of his tongue against you was heaven, he was so skilled, sucking on your clit and flicking it with his tongue. His eyes bore into yours, a moment so intimate you almost wanted to hide your face. Your moans, the sound of your juices and Luigi’s tongue filled your once silent dorm and you gripped onto his curls for dear life.
“You taste like Heaven baby,” he murmured before diving back in.
His hands gripped your thighs tighter as he deepened his focus, his tongue pressing harder against your clit. He was relentless but tender and more soft moans escaped your lips as your thighs shook. He responded with a low groan of approval, the vibration adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
His tongue circled against your clit in a final, deliberate motion, and the world around you blurred. When your orgasm hit, it was like a storm breaking loose. Your pussy surged with pleasure, a pulse that started deep inside and spread outward, consuming every inch of you. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, gripping tight as your orgasm washed over you, a cry slipping from your lips as you squirted in his mouth. He didn’t let up, drawing every last ripple from you, not stopping until your body finally collapsed, spent and trembling.
“You did so well sweetheart, did you enjoy that?” he asked, leaning up, lips and chin glistening.
To answer his question, you pulled him in for a kiss and slipped your tongue inside his mouth to taste yourself. His hands went to your breasts, fondling you as you smiled into the kiss. “I need you so bad Lu, please.”
“Talk to me. Tell me what you need then princess,” he whispered, his deep voice making your pussy throb.
You buried your face into his neck, your cheeks heating at the request but he wasn’t having it.
“Don’t be shy sweetheart, I’m here—it’s just me. Tell me exactly what you need.”
He titled your chin to look up at him, his eyes glistening with care and something darker. Something you’d never seen before but made your thighs clench. “I- I need you to fuck me.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
Luigi lay you flat on the bed then hovered over you, his body pressing lightly against yours as he sucked on your neck. He shed his clothes in a flash, and your breath caught at the sight before you. The heat of his skin against yours was electrifying, and anticipation hung thick in the air.
Luigi looked like a god, one you craved to worship, his muscles taut and glistening under the dim light in your dorm every curve and contour accentuated. You couldn’t help but caress his abs, fingers tracing the defined lines, marveling at the way his body felt firm under your touch. His eyes fluttered shut, a low groan escaping his lips as your hands explored his body.
“Like what you see?” he asked, leaning down to lick the side of your neck.
“You have no idea.” You had dreamt of the day you would be able to have him all to yourself, have your hands all over him, and it was finally here. Your eyes trailed down to his deep V line and then you saw it. He was long, thick and hard. Bigger than you had ever imagined and your breath caught in your throat as you saw his cock physically throb.
“S’okay baby, you can take it. I’ll go nice and slow for you,” he whispered.
You nodded then felt him slowly push the tip in, just enough to make your breath catch again. A gasp escaped your lips, his size stretching you, testing your limits. His brow furrowed with restraint, the muscles in his arms tensing as he held back, waiting for you to adjust.
His eyes searched yours, intense and burning with something primal, yet laced with care. “Are you okay sweetheart, want me to move?”
You nodded slightly, biting your lip, and he moved again, pressing in just a little more, but it’s so much—he’s so much, filling you in a way you’d never been before.
Your pussy tightened around him, and he moaned, low and guttural, the sound sending a ripple of need straight through you. “You feel so good baby,” he gasped, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
He was so thick, every inch was a slow, deliberate stretch, each stroke making you moan and grip the thin fabric of your sheets. His darkened eyes never left yours, his lips parted slightly as he panted softly, the strain of holding back evident on his face. You were both gasping, lost in the feeling of him filling you inch by inch, the overwhelming sensation forcing you to arch your back slightly into him.
“Lu,” you moaned, your nails clawing at his back.
“I know baby, it feels so fucking good.”
Finally, after what felt like forever, he was fully buried in your pussy, and you could feel him throbbing deep inside your cervix. The moment hung in the air, both of you frozen in awe, the sheer intensity of it all leaving you breathless.
“Feels so good Lu, I—I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, on the brink of an orgasm already.
“Not yet baby, I want it to be really good. Be a good girl and hold on for me.”
You nodded and your fingers gripped his shoulders as he leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, and for a moment, all you could hear were your ragged breaths mingling together and the sound of his body softly pounding into you.
His hips rolled gently, sliding out just enough to make you gasp before pressing back in with a deep, deliberate thrust. The friction was perfect, every inch of his cock dragging inside your pussy sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. The man you had a soul eating crush on for three years was fucking you. Luigi Mangione was finally fucking you.
He reached between your bodies, rubbing your clit softly and no matter how hard you bit your lips, you couldn’t stop the moans that left you. “You’ve been such a good girl for me, you can cum now. Do it around my cock, baby,” Luigi cooed.
As soon as the words left his lips you felt it. A rush of liquid escaped you as your orgasm ripped through every muscle in your body. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as you squirted around his cock, the slick wetness coating him. His name fell from your lips again, but it was a loud moan, caught in the overwhelming and intense ecstasy that took over.
You gasped realizing what had just happened. You’d never squirted before—you weren’t even sure if you had ever cum, but somehow, Luigi managed to get that out of you. He made you squirt.
“That’s it. My good girl, you came so hard baby. Fucking soaked my cock,” he said, looking down at the mess you made on the sheets and his cock as he bottomed out.
He gave you a moment to breathe, pressing soft kisses on your lips. “You’re so beautiful, God, I can’t believe I have you,” he beamed.
He flipped you on your side, his body pressing against yours as he hoisted your leg up.
“Ready sweetheart? Is this okay?” he asked.
“More than okay, please fuck me,” you whined.
He pressed a kiss to your ear before he was back in your soaked, warm walls. This time, it was easier for him to slip inside, though the stretch from this angle still had you squeezing his thigh. He thrusted up into you, hitting that sweet spot that had you crying out repeatedly.
“You take me so well baby, such a good girl,” he praised.
He maintained a steady but deep rhythm, one that had you feeling almost every inch of him, and soon you felt your pussy throb, another intense orgasm impending.
“You wanna cum baby? Yeah? Tell me how bad you want to,” he murmured.
You wrapped your hand around his head, your fingers lacing in his curls and fucking yourself back on his cock. “Please Lu, wanna cum so bad. I’ve waited so long for this. I’ve thought about this every single day, please let me cum.”
“Yeah? Me too baby. I’ve thought about fucking you for so long and having you just soak my cock. Cum for me pretty girl,” he said.
Your legs trembled, your hands pulling his head down to the back of your neck to make him suck as the pleasure peaked. He thrusted into you harder, each motion pushing you closer to the edge until you couldn’t hold on any longer. With a loud whimper, your pussy clenched around his hard cock, the tension snapping again and the release flooded through you all at once. You squirted once more, this one somehow more intense than the last and making tears prick the corner of your eyes.
“You’re amazing sweetheart, such a good girl for me,” he whispered into your ear.
Your vision blurred, the orgasm leaving you dizzy, but he didn’t stop. He kept thrusting, slow and deeper now, letting you ride out every last wave of pleasure until you were left panting and utterly spent, your body limp and trembling in his arms.
“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum, where do you want it?”
“I-inside me, please,” you gasped, your walls clenching around him to milk him of his cum.
“Are you sure sweetheart?”
You nodded frantically, grinding your ass against him and that did it.
“Oh God baby, t-thank you. You’re incredible,” he gasped as his orgasm washed over him.
You felt him pulse inside you, his cock twitching as he spilled into you, filling you with his warm cum and you came once more, this time, with him. His body tensed beside you, every muscle taut as he let out a ragged moan of release. His cum flooded through you, his orgasm drawing out in long, throbbing waves as he rocked against you, riding out every last pulse of pleasure. You’d never felt this good before.
Slowly, he pulled out of you and turned you so that you were facing him. He stared into your eyes, his expression softening as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. His breathing was still heavy, but there was a look of contentment on his face, a quiet satisfaction in the aftermath of the overwhelming pleasure and the need he felt for you over the past three years.
“You did so well, sweetheart. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked.
“You didn’t,” you smiled, brushing his thick eyebrows with your fingers making him chuckle.
“I’m glad. Did I live up to your expectations?”
“Surpassed it. It was better than I could ever imagine,” you beamed.
“I feel the same way sweetheart, now let’s cuddle for a bit then take a shower and get ready. I’m taking you out to dinner.”
His words made your heart flutter and you buried your face in his firm chest. He was all you could ask for and more. After years of yearning, he was finally yours.
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rallentando1011 · 10 months ago
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certain ineffable things
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(rise Donnie x touch starved gn reader - little bit of angst, mostly fluff) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lazy circles drawn on hips.
Tender pats on the shoulder or head, conveying much more than mere words.
Nudges of encouragement or of endearment or at least conveying that someone else was there.
Various affectionate displays - all luxuries experienced in the most painfully infrequent intervals.
 At least, they were to you.
Home definitely wasn’t the place to be seeking out stuff like that - your upbringing had all but made certain of that - nor was anywhere with your colleagues or friends. Any time anyone so much as got near, your skin seemed to crawl and spine shivered and-
In short, it seemed an endeavor destined to fail.
That wasn’t to say you didn’t like it. The physical contact part, that was; the yearning and all that was inarguably awful.
But the occasional touch or elbow rub or hug just absolutely made you melt. Only when you felt like it though. And normally only when you initiated it. And typically only with a certain purple clad significant other-
A hand grasped onto yours.
You snapped back to the present, sitting in Donnie’s lab where you’d been idly passing him tools and utensils as needed and he’d been discarding them back into your palm, and where a misunderstanding where each of you thought the other to be passing them something and extended two empty hands made quite the startling connection of the two.
“Sorry!” Your hand retracted as if repulsed by his. “Sorry.”
He jolted on his own accord before looking over at you. “You alright?”
“Are you?”
Donnie blinked. “You shuddered as if I transferred a few thousand volts which, considering my current field of experimentation, is feasible. Did I do something wrong?”
“No, not at all.” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. What a way to get dragged out of a soliloquy. “It just, uh, caught me off guard is all. What about you? You just about leapt out of your seat.”
“All’s good on my end.”
“Yep. Same here.”
“Alright then.”
A terse moment passed. Despite how fervently you hoped he’d turn back to his work and drop the upsettingly awkward conversation, Donnie’s softly confused gaze stayed fixed on you. 
It made your stomach churn in a manner halfway between flustered and unbearable - that was to say, leaving sounded like a viable option.
“You know what? I might go get a snack or something; it’s been a minute since I had anything so...”
“Right. Want me to have S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. fetch you something?”
“No!” You took a deep breath upon realizing you were nearly shouting. “No, that’s quite alright. I don’t mind moving around a little bit.”
“Oh. Okay.” Donnie remained wide-eyed and immobile, tracking you curiously even as you moved for the door. He probably kept that up as long as he could, as long as you were in his sight before going back to work, not that you knew for certain, of course. You had squared your shoulders and rushed out as swiftly as possible, only easing up when you reached the kitchen.
You set straight to work on that snack and a warm drink to help you recuperate.
With a sigh, you prepped a kettle on the stove, leaving it to boil as you ventured mindlessly to the pantry.
After retrieving something to munch on, something easily poppable, you returned to an eagerly whistling kettle, the contents of which you quickly emptied into an eagerly awaiting mug. You plucked a tea bag from the cabinet adjacent to the stove and dunked it in, setting a timer.
As the tea steeped, you tried not to do so in your thoughts. Swimming and swarming uncomfortably through your brain with unpleasant reminders of how unfairly you’d behaved earlier, how unfair the circumstances around how averse you felt toward simple contact were-
No, not going there right now. You busied yourself with snagging pieces of your snack, losing your thoughts under the fervent sound of crunching and grinding and-
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Right. The tea.
Steeping over and tea bag tossed, you gathered your bearings and paused in the doorway. On one hand, you could go back to the lab and talk things out like a sensible person. On the other hand, cowering away in Donnie’s room was also there.
“Psh.” You shook your head lightly at yourself and trudged your way to his room, ever the craven.
You sipped at your earl grey contentedly, navigating around stacks of thick books and planters filled with rich soil and plum-colored tradescantia. Donnie, ever the botanist at heart.
Following the oh-so-perilous journey across his purple-fluorescently lit room, you settled on his mattress. Something struck you as funny in a deprecating sort of way when you sat - going into his room uninvited and making yourself at home on his bed seemed less intimate than simply coming into contact with him. Maybe you were just desensitized to eradicating his personal space but still quite opposed to doing the same with his personal bubble.
Yes, it was funny. Pathetic, too, but ironically funny nonetheless.
You couldn’t remember the last time you purposefully came into contact with someone and liked it. Like, genuinely, when was the last time you were touched?
Yes, sometimes it happened out of necessity - someone helping fasten on a bracelet’s clasp or zip up an outfit or something of the sort - other times it happened by accident - like earlier - but other than that, you hadn’t the foggiest idea of when you’d last sought intentional contact with anyone. All you knew was that it had been a painfully long time which made it a painfully sore subject.
The quiet shuffle of steps made a sudden appearance, ones you could recognize as Donnie’s without even looking up. So you didn’t.
A weight settled a considerable distance away from you on the bed, the sounds of the anxious pops of phalanges and the wringing of wrists making it even more apparent it was him.
You took a long, slow sip of your tea, savoring the last bit of warmth cascading down your throat before deftly discarding the empty mug on his busied nightstand.
You shuffled.
Talking, right? That was what was supposed to, what needed to come next, right?
Hashing it out verbally, coming to a resolution, going back to sitting in the lab with hardly a word exchanged and certainly no skin brushing by skin.
How do you ask someone why they scarcely touch you without sounding inappropriate or impotent? Not exactly a normal thing to ask. Or feel.
And how do you describe the niche feeling of wanting to feel any kind of contact but only under the most specific of circumstances?
Daunting, it was. All of it.
“Do you want to talk about earlier?” Donnie broke the silence.
The shake of your head was nigh indiscernible, but he perceived it nonetheless.
He twiddled his thumbs.
You cleared your throat.
He looked up from his lap.
You cautiously extended your arms out. An invitation to skip the words and go straight to the resolution.
Hesitantly, his hand met yours, the feeling electric, burning as his digits slid across yours to take gentle hold of you.
The two of you met eyes and, upon seeing no disapproval, continued with the utmost care.
You couldn’t recall which one of you moved to lay down first, but the other quickly reciprocated the shift, both of you ending up facing each other on silken violet sheets.
Legs tangled lightly for the purpose of pulling each other closer.
Tridactyl hands lightly glided to your sides, as if handling something delicate.
Yours made their way up, joining together behind his neck.
“I’m being so honest right now: if you want to stop, we’re stopping,” you voiced quietly yet surely.
Lazy circles on your hips drawn by his thumbs drew you in, drawn by thumbs that had increasingly more bravado by the second.
“Seriously, any moment you’re done, we’re done.”
A low hum sounded his amusement.
“Not as in done done, like done with this specific-”
“Respectfully,” Donnie interjected lightheartedly, “shut up. I’m good if you’re good.”
“…”
The silence this time once again carried an awkward air, but it was decidedly less insufferable.
Another second was spent before he cleared his throat, not wanting to misinterpret your silence. “You’re good?”
“Mmhm.”
“Then it’s good.”
With that, you decided his advice to shut up was the best idea you’d heard all day and did so, nuzzling your face into his neck sleepily. The reverberating churr and tighter hold you received in return were exquisite.
Oftentimes words proved to be the best and most concise way to convey a message; however, sometimes actions took that distinction, able to show as opposed to tell certain ineffable things.
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spdrvyn · 4 months ago
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MIGUEL O’HARA — and places he’d kiss you in
rewatched atsv and was hit with a very strong wave of yearning for this man that (unfortunately) doesn’t exist so now we’re here! tagging @greensagephase too as she was the one who inspired me to write this, please enjoy!! (^_^) ♡
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☆ his lab, at work
like i’ve mentioned a thousand times before in my other fics and posts, miguel isn’t the biggest fan of pda. he prefers intimacy when it’s just the two of you, without the crumbling pressure of his snoopy coworkers.
that is mostly why his laboratory is one of the most secure places in headquarters. with a platform that might as well be touching the ceiling, it grants utmost privacy to him and you. he enjoys it when you visit him, whether it’s to bring food or company, the fact you go out of your busy day to come see him makes his heart swell.
he loves to shower you in kisses in those fleeting moments you’re both together, before the day ends. he presses a kiss to your hairline, and takes a whiff of your shampoo. before he moves down to your forehead, your nose, then your lips. he’ll tell you about the day he’s had, you will tell him about yours in return, and he’ll wonder how he got so lucky.
☆ the park, early mornings
i’d like to think that miguel is a morning person. when he can, he goes on brisk walks in a park nearby to wind down a little before he starts a very hectic day.
you, on more than one occasion, have chosen to join him, which miguel feels guilty for most of the time. mainly because he thinks you need sleep, as adorable as you look when you’re tired. he notices how sluggish you can be when you join him, which is why neither of you give that big of an effort to make conversation. not like it makes the moment any less meaningful.
there is a way that the peeping sun reflects on you so beautifully. even with tired eyes, unkempt hair, and an “uncoordinated” outfit (according to you. but he’d be attracted to you even if you wore a potato sack), every inch of you from head to toe looks like it came straight out of a renaissance painting.
he will pull you behind a tree, pepper kisses to your cheeks, before kissing you senseless on the lips. he holds your face in his warm palms like a prized jewel, and each kiss feels slower than the next. his breath is hot against your mouth as he pauses before he leans in for one after the other.
☆ at a restaurant, dinner time
on date nights, it really depends on how both of you are feeling on where the location is. maybe, it feels nice to doll up and look nice, but if it’s too much effort, somewhere casual and near-by is sufficient enough for you and him.
either way, those nights are the ones where miguel’s romance levels are reaching through the roof. he simply can’t stop and won’t stop looking at you, and how stunning you are. he doesn’t know how you always manage to keep him relaxed, because even he knows about how high-strung he can get, but he always gets so eerily calm when you’re around.
while you’re in the restaurant, he will subtly hold your hand under the table. on the rare occasion, he’ll break his ‘little to no PDA’ rule, he will press kisses along the inside of your hand to your knuckles. he does try to be discreet, but the way you get so flustered by his boldness eggs him on.
☆ bonus: at home
when miguel comes back home, a lot of the time he lets his actions speak for how he feels.
normally, if you’re doing something when he returns, he embraces you from behind, lets out a huge sigh of relief, and clings to your back like a koala until you are both seated. if you’re on the bed or couch, reading a book or watching something on the tv, he collapses on top of you and puffs all the air out from your chest.
he will kiss you on your neck, or when he’s really tired, just leave his lips there. he’ll lay on your chest and kiss you there also, while leaving a trail down to your stomach.
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i'm still so not over him. sorry to my cousin's friends who apparently read some of my stuff, i am not normal about this old man
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hederasgarden · 5 months ago
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On the Horizon (1/?)
Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has.  Pairing:Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader) Word Count: 2.5K  Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst, flirting, and asshole!Scott. Future chapters will be smutty. Not all themes are tagged. A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary and @ryebecca @mermaidxatxhear @clairewritesandrambles and @a-reader-and-a-writer for their beta help. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.
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Masterlist ♡ Glen Powell Character Masterlist
It’s sweltering in the midday sun and you wipe the sweat from your brow as you surreptitiously watch Scott work beside you. He doesn't seem bothered by the heat, typing away on his computer despite the stagnant air. It makes you yearn for the cool, controlled environment of the labs you used to work in before Javi recruited you. Although he'd likely tell you this weather was perfect for a storm, you're miserable. Meteorology isn’t even your specialty; you’re here for your engineering skills to manage the specialized equipment the team relies on for their data collection.
Perched on the tailgate of the Storm Par truck, you have a clear view of the other storm chasers clustering around Tyler Owens' red truck. The man in question emerges with a brilliant smile, and beside you, Scott scoffs, annoyed. He hates Tyler, and you're pretty sure the feeling is mutual. 
"Ass," Scott mutters, returning his attention to his computer.
When you look up again, you catch Tyler watching the two of you. You know he’s more than likely looking for a chance to provoke Scott, but to your surprise, he offers you a wink and pulls down the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. Before you can react, he's turned to speak to one of the young women on his team, giving her his full attention. A hand rests casually on her shoulder.
You wish Scott would acknowledge you like that. You thought things would be different after the night you shared weeks ago, but he quickly dashed those hopes the next morning, ignoring you completely. He only seemed to look at you when he needed your tech skills or when you made a mistake. Your cheeks still burn from his last reprimand in front of the team, the sting of his criticism lingering.
Clearing your throat, Scott’s eyes briefly land on you before returning to the computer screen. 
"What?" he demands.
"I was going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?”
"Yeah, you know what I like," he says dismissively. 
When it's clear that's all you're getting from him, you push off the truck onto the dusty road with a soft exhale and head into the gas station. The air conditioning inside practically makes you groan with relief, and you take a moment to appreciate the cool air. 
"You're not melting on us, are you, city girl?" You jump at the unexpected voice, surprised to see it belongs to Tyler. "MIT got you all wound up, huh?” He questions, amused. 
"What?"
"Your boss," he clarifies. 
"Oh, he's um...he's not my boss. Javi is."
"No?" he asks, brows raised. "Well, he certainly barks at you like he is."
Heat rushes to your face as you realize Tyler must have overheard Scott reprimand you yesterday after you miscalibrated one of the sensors.
"If you worked with my team, I'd be a lot nicer," he says.
You stare at him, unsure how to react to his comment and the suggestive tone. Before today, you’d barely spoken to him, although you get the impression that his flirtatious nature is just a normal part of his outgoing personality. Thankfully, you’re spared from having to figure out how to respond when the doorbell jingles and someone calls your name.
It’s Scott. 
"Owens," he bites out. 
Your lips part in a surprised inhale as he places a hand on your shoulder and stands so close that you can feel the fabric of his shirt brushing against your arm. Tyler's gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your face with a knowing smile. 
 "Well, I enjoyed our chat," he tells you, not bothering to acknowledge Scott. "We should do this again, sweetheart."
Once he’s gone, Scott moves to stand in front of you "What did he want?" he demands.
"Oh, nothing. Just...saying hi."
Scott tenses, and he steps into your space, cupping your elbow. "You shouldn't talk to him," he advises.
When he tilts his head to stare down at you, something flickers in his blue eyes that looks an awful lot like jealousy. You glance over your shoulder at Tyler, only to have Scott say your name again, more forcefully. Turning back, you find his intense dark blue eyes locked onto yours. For the first time since that night in the hotel room, you realize you have Scott’s full attention and that sends a thrill of excitement through you.
You bite your lip, the beginning of an idea coming together.
An opportunity arises to put your plan into motion later that night. Nearly everyone has descended on the only motel in town, but no one seems interested in staying in their rooms. Music pumps from Tyler’s red truck and another group grill burgers nearby. Alcohol is flowing freely as different teams mingle.
You spot Scott busy inside the Storm Par command van, completely absorbed in his work. From experience, you know any attempt to pull him away would be pointless, but spending time with Tyler just might. You linger at the edge of the parking lot, trying to muster the courage to approach the Tornado Wrangler crew. They’re sharing beers and laughing, but when you look closer you realize a lot of them are still working in some way or another. Lily has the inner workings of her drone exposed, tinkering while Dani and Tyler look like they’re securing something to the side of his truck.
Suddenly what felt like a great idea earlier now seems silly. So does your sundress and the time you spent making yourself look nice. Any attempt to enact your plan would mean intruding on their little bubble. Besides, you’re not even sure this hairbrained idea would even work on Scott a second time. 
You turn to head back to your room when Tyler calls out, “Hey city girl, you want a beer?”
You freeze, eyes closing briefly as you realize there’s no turning back now. You’ve been spotted. When you face him again Tyler is watching you with a casual, expectant smile. He leans against the hood of his truck with one arm draped over it.
“Come on, we don’t bite,” he encourages. 
“Not unless you ask us to,” Boone chimes in, earning a collective groan and playful slap to the back of his head from Dani.
Someone tosses you a beer, and you fumble to catch it. It’s icy and slippery. Tyler watches you with a raised eyebrow as a slow, amused smile spreads across his face. You’ve never felt less cool in your life and you end up looking anywhere but him. 
“Hey…you’re an engineer right?” Lily calls out. “You wanna take a look at the wing here? She’s giving me some trouble.”
You glance at the Storm Par van, half expecting Scott to come to scold you for even considering helping the enemy, but he’s still inside. 
“Tin Man seems pretty tied up with his work,” Tyler observes. “I think you’re safe to join us, Dorothy.”
You blink, both surprised and a bit embarrassed to realize just how obvious you must be. “Uh, yeah, I can take a look,” you tell Lily.
She grins, shifting back on her heels. You follow her over to the truck to examine the drone. Lily talks you through everything she’s already tried so far with Cairo and you ask her a few questions in return. After a bit of trial and error, you identify the issue. Thankfully it's a quick fix. 
Boone lets out a low whistle, impressed. “You know, if things don’t pan out with the corporate overlords, I bet Ty would offer you a spot on our team.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, watching Tyler round the truck and draw closer to you.
“I’m a much nicer boss than Scout,” he promises.
“He’s not my boss,” you remind Tyler. “And his name is Scott.”
“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” he intones, holding your gaze with an intensity that makes it hard to focus on anything but the way he’s looking at you.
You let out a nervous little chuckle, realizing that you hadn’t actually planned for anything beyond capturing Tyler’s attention. Glancing down at the beer in your hands, you fiddle with the label until Tyler takes the bottle. He twists off the cap and hands it back without a word.
You offer him a quick, “thanks,” and take a sip. The lukewarm, hoppy flavor tingles on your tongue. You make a face.
“Not a beer girl?” Tyler asks, drawing back to give you a thoughtful once-over. He hums consideringly. “No, you strike me as a rosé-all-day type.”
“Actually, I’m a whisky girl,” you lie, grinning at the surprised blink you get in response.
“I must be losing my touch,” he confesses, leaning into your space and letting you catch the faint scent of his cologne or deodorant—something sharp and clean like the ozone that lingers in the air after a storm. “Unless, of course, you’re just messing with me,” he continues. “But you wouldn’t do something like that, would you, city girl?”
The way he stares at you suggests that he’s not just talking about your choice of drink. Before you can stop yourself, you look over his shoulder, searching for Scott. Tyler doesn’t turn to see what has your attention. He doesn’t need to, you realize.
“A lesser man might take that as a blow to his ego.” His tone is teasing as he uses two fingers under your chin to gently guide your gaze back to him. “Lucky for you, darlin’, I’m a big boy.”
A prickling warmth spreads across your body, and your jaw muscles tingle with a mix of embarrassment and anxiety. You must have been horribly transparent in your attempt, you realize.
“I’m not…I didn’t,” you stumble over your words as Tyler’s smile grows.
“The decent thing to do is ask,” he encourages. He cranes his neck behind him and you see Scott’s finally noticed the two of you together. “Better make it quick, he’s on his way over here now.” 
“What?”
“You know what,” he replies, tapping your nose.
Panic settles in, your reluctance to admit what you were trying to do warring with your desire to get Scott’s attention. “Okay, okay, fine,” you relent. “I’m trying to make Scott jealous.”
You can see Scott over Tyler’s shoulder now, his expression dark. He’s second away from being in hearing range. “Tyler. Please.”
“Well since you said the magic word.” 
He turns and in one smooth motion throws his arm over your shoulder to draw you in close. That seems to surprise Scott whose pace slows as he approaches. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest as you gaze up at him, acutely aware of Tyler’s body pressed firmly against your side.
“Hey, Scooter,” Tyler greets. “Want a beer?”
Scott’s cheek ripples in annoyance. “No,” he says curtly. 
“Suit yourself.” Tyler shrugs. He grabs the bottle in your hand and takes a long drink from it before handing it back to you. “Nothing better than a cold one after a day of chasing storms.”
Scott’s nostrils flare and he utters your name in a clipped tone. 
“Uh, I better go,” you tell Tyler. “Thanks for the beer.”
“Well, I hope to see more of you later, sweetheart,” he replies with a wink. 
The second you’re within reach, Scott’s hand is on your upper back and quickly moves to rest at the base of your neck. You feel a little like an errant school child with the way he guides you past the rest of Tyler’s crew, whose goodbyes are decidedly less enthusiastic than their welcome. Boone glances between you and Scott, making a face that you can’t quite decipher.
“I thought you were headed to bed early,” Scott accuses as soon as you’re out of earshot of the crew. He’s tense beside you, fingers flexing against your skin. 
“I was but then the Wrangler crew invited me to join them for a beer.” He doesn’t need to know you sought them out for your ill-conceived plan. 
Scott scoffs, moving in front of you. He stares down at you. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time with those hillbillies.” 
“They aren’t so bad,” you defend until he pins you with a quelling look. You know Scott well enough by now to drop the topic, even if his words don’t sit quite right with you. Tyler and his friends were nothing but kind to you tonight.
“Storm Par can’t be seen spending time with those amateurs. It’s bad for business. You should know better.”
You realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s not jealous — he’s just angry. He’d probably be just as upset if another member of your team was seen mingling with the so-called enemy. How could you have been stupid enough to think talking to Tyler would make him want you again? 
“Come on,” Scott urges, seemingly intent on walking you back to your hotel room. 
At the door, you wave the card over the keypad and shoulder the old, warped door open. Before you can turn to bid Scott a good night a hand on your hips pushes you forward and he follows you inside. The door shuts and he plucks the keycard from your hands, thoughtlessly tossing it on the bedside table.
His mouth is on yours before you can speak, his hands grabbing at the hem of your sundress. The shift in his mood is enough to disorient you and you don’t resist when his tongue invades your mouth. The back of your knees hit the bed and then he’s on top of you, warm and solid. He pulls roughly at the strap of your dress, his teeth nipping at the exposed skin. When you feel his hand land on your inner thigh you push at his chest. 
“Wait, Scott,” you breathe. This feels nothing like your last time together. 
He pulls back, a tick in his jaw as he stares down at you. “It's been a long day,” he says, “and we both know you want this.”
You do want him, more than anything, but there’s something about his tone and words that dredge up an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. It makes your skin prickle, and you avert your gaze, suddenly uncertain. Above you, Scott sighs, and you feel his fingertips gently touch your jaw. You think of Tyler suddenly, his teasing tone and the amusement in his green eyes. When you look back at Scott, his unreadable blue eyes meet yours. 
The bed creaks as he shifts back. “I can just go,” he offers.
“No, please don’t.” The words escape your lips before you even realize you’ve spoken. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself. Scott’s the kind of man you always dreamed about, handsome and intelligent – one of those Ivy League boys who never looked twice at you in college. 
“Good answer,” he says with a smile.
You pull him closer, and as his lips find yours once more, the lingering discomfort fades away. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted.
 Aren’t you?
Part 2
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spatialwave · 2 months ago
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LEAVE ME TO DREAM
➸ pairing: arcane survivor!jayce talis x fem!reader ➸ word count: 1.5k ➸ tags: mdni! porn with plot, angst, hurt/comfort, grief/loss, depression, sad ending, rough sex, choking, sorta-dubcon. ➸ notes: wow this was a lot more depressing than i intended it to be lol. my apologies. i rewatched yesterday and felt so much emotion for arcane survivor jayce and wrote whatever came to mind! i hope you like it 🥹
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Months had passed, months without Jayce. You remember the days clearly back then, he had been avoiding you – spending hours and hours in his lab after Viktor left. It was fine, you learned to manage seeing him only when he wanted. You told yourself it was fine
It wasn’t, but you managed.
Then he disappeared, as though he vanished out of thin air. Everyone you spoke to brushed you off, no one in the council would even look in your direction. Ambessa made it impossible.
You were a mess, alone in your apartment for weeks. Months.
There were days when you wanted to give up because what was life like without Jayce? There was no life with lost love, it was so painful that your stomach twisted in pain every waking hour. You’d begun to grieve, losing yourself to the idea that he’d never return. That his body had become one with the earth where he might lay dead.
It was late afternoon, your body curled into the blankets, naked and basking in the sun that pooled through the window. You had been in and out of sleep all day, tossing and turning. Having managed to shower, but nothing else but crawl back into your safety and remain there.
You dreamt of Jayce, like you always had. Memories flooded your mind, tears settling in the outer corners of your eyes.
Sleep was taking you over, eyes fluttering when the door to the apartment slammed open. You jolted up, hands grabbing at the blankets that you wrapped around your body haphazardly.
“Who’s there?” You shouted through a shaky voice, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your bare feet padded along the wooden floorboards, heavy as you stomped toward imminent danger with nothing to lose, “My fiancé will be back any second,” you lied, baring your teeth as you turn the corner into the main area of your quaint apartment.
That’s when you gasped, the sound mixed with a strangled scream. Shaky hands covered your mouth.
“Jayce?” You croaked, “Oh my gods, Jayce.”
You weren’t permitted time to greet him, nor comment on the way he appeared. Rugged, a beard and hair that hung over his ears.
The door slammed behind him and the hextech hammer dropped to the ground with a thud heavy enough that the wood cracked beneath. He stepped toward you, earning another gasp as you were pushed against the kitchen table.
“Jayce,” your voice full of worry, fingers touching a beard you’d never seen on him before, “where have you–”
Lips crashed to yours, tongue forcing its way past your lips. You moaned, abiding by his movements as the blanket fell from your body, and you sat atop the table, thighs tight around his hips. Arms snaked around his neck, fingers tangling into his shaggy hair and tugging harshly as emotions flooded you. Tears streamed down your cheeks, dripping down your neck as you whined into his mouth.
“Can we talk?” You forced yourself back, chest heaving with heavy breaths as you looked into his eyes. All you could see was pain and loss, fear – anger. Wherever he was, he had been tormented, left him a shell of a man, “Jayce, please–”
He blinked hard, twitching as if to blink a vision away.
“No,” he growled, face burying against your neck as he sucked and bit with his scarred lips, rough hands groping at your naked hips hard enough you tried to squirm away.
“Stop,” you whined, your body reacting to his touch as your wet cunt rolled against the erection hidden under his slacks, but you yearned for more than this. You had questions that burned your mind, a need to heal whatever hurt him. To tell him that you missed him and loved him, that you were scared he’d been dead.
Your mind was blurry, heart pounding with a flurry of emotions as you tilted your head back and cried out.
“Just… be quiet,” he hissed, biting hard against your neck and causing you to yelp, “please,” he begged against your skin, tongue licking at the bruise that had formed over your skin.
You shuddered, lips quivering as you felt his hands grab at your body with fervor. You obliged, your heart knowing that this was a need. A distraction, perhaps, and you decided to welcome it wholly.
Jayce was back, that’s all that mattered. You had him. You could manage.
The man who was once tender with his touches was no longer here. His hands handled you with a sharp edge, leaving lasting redness and bruises in its wake, wrapped around your neck as you whimpered and tried to cry out in pleasure, but you couldn’t make a sound as his fingers pressed against the sides of your windpipe.
You were hastily pushed back on the kitchen table, dishes, papers and clutter pushed to the floor as Jayce fucked you with little remorse for your own needs. Your body had missed his touch, legs spread apart as his cock left a searing pain deep inside you and his teeth pinched your nipples.
With parted lips, all you could offer was a pitiful attempt at a whimper, eyes fluttering as he stared down at you – eyes full of rage. Lust and love were nowhere to be seen as he shoved two fingers between your lips, forcing your sounds to cease. You sucked as best as you could, offering the little energy you had to spare as your body shook beneath him.
The legs of the table creaking so loudly you were certain that it would break, the wood shaking and squeaking as it scraped against the flooring
Jayce’s breaths were ragged and heavy, moans choking in his throat as his cock fucked you in a tireless pace and he stared down at the way your breasts bounced with each hard snap of his hips. Your heels dug into the small of his back, thighs squeezing as the walls of your pussy clenched around him, silently begging for more.
He pulled his fingers from your mouth, and you gasped for air, the hand around your throat moving to massage your tits, instead pinching at your nipples hard enough that you squealed. You caught your breath and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. It was an incessant amount of pleasure and touch, leaving your body weak and near-limp.
Tears stung your eyes again, and you lifted a tired arm so your delicate hand caressed his bearded jaw. A gentle touch you had longed for since he stormed through the doors a different man that you’d seen him last.
“I… missed you,” you croaked between his unabating thrusts, whimpering voice catching in your throat with each deep send of his hips.
Jayce cringed back from your touch, flinching and twitching like he had before. His hands moved to your hips, stiffening his body and yours as he stared down at you with widened eyes and a newfound expression, as though clarity struck.
For a moment, his eyes flickered. There he was — your Jayce.
“Jayce,” you urged, moving to sit up as your hands rested on his cheeks, “please. Talk to me. I need you.”
His golden eyes grew damp, pupils dilating until they were blown out.
“I’m sorry,” the words croaked from trembling lips as the tears spilled down his cheeks. Emotions took over as he wailed out a sob, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you into a tight hug, face pressed into the side of your head, “I’m so sorry… sorry.”
You looked at the wall beyond him, your chin over his shoulder, as you listened to his cries and sobs. Your hands pressed against his back, soft and comforting.
He continued to mumble out apologies as you felt his tears stain against your skin.
Under your breath, you shushed him, hand gliding up and down his spine as you allowed him the space to feel. To exist without any negative repercussions, to live through whatever traumas he’d experienced while he was away.
The questions burned deep in your mind, but you bit back the curiosity. Your patience was thoroughly tested, but you could do this for him. You held your lover close and prayed to whatever god that would listen to keep him safe and in your arms. To keep him in your shared apartment, that he wouldn’t leave like he had.
“I love you,” he whimpered, nails clawing down your back and leaving reddened welts behind, “I’m sorry–”
You opened your eyes as he jerked back, watching in fear as he hurriedly put his clothes back on and grabbed the hammer. He was all over the place, leaving you unable to pin down the thoughts racing through his head, “I… I have to take care of it.”
“Take care of what? Jayce? Jayce!” You called out, scrambling to your feet as you chased after him, but your fiancé had already slammed the door in your face.
You whimpered, leaning against the door with your palms flat against the wood. Then you cried and cried for hours – begging that it had only been a bad dream. That the touches and bruises that lingered on your body would disappear much like he had.
You weren’t certain that you could manage any longer. Everything was a mess.
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skylin-files · 10 days ago
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girl code ⋆ na jaemin
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pov: your best friend's former situationship started hitting you up. what could go wrong?
pairing: college student!jaemin x college student! yn
featuring! winter of aespa, nct members
note: this is part three (final part). i hope you like it; your comments will be highly appreciated. ♡
check other parts here: part 1 | part 2
── .✦
You found yourself zoning out in the cafeteria, barely touching your food, while both Haechan and Mark watched you with concern.
Winter’s silence—ignoring you and not replying for two days—wasn’t helping either. Perhaps luck was on your side, as your lab class with Jaemin had been postponed due to your professor’s flu.
Occasionally, you’d cross paths with Jaemin in the hallway. You tried to appear neutral, but the heavy weight in your stomach was impossible to ignore every time you saw him. At the same time, you couldn’t deny how much you secretly liked feeling his gaze linger on you as you turned away.
It had been two days since Mark sent the group photo and two days since you last heard from Winter.
It was the end of your final class, and as you placed the last of your things in your locker and slammed it shut, you nearly jumped at the sight of Jaemin leaning casually against the locker next to yours.
"Hey," he greeted, his voice soft. You blinked, trying to steady yourself, and whispered back, "Hey."
You watched him as he straightened up from his relaxed position, seeming to wrestle with his thoughts, hesitating before speaking.
"How are you?" he asked. His tone held a subtle weight, as though he wanted to ask more but held himself back. You hadn’t been replying to his messages like you used to, and though he clearly noticed, he chose not to press further.
"I’m okay, just busy," you answered—a tired, overused excuse. It was obvious Jaemin didn’t believe you, but he only nodded in response. "Can I get you a coffee?" he offered.
Did you want to say yes? Absolutely. But was it the right thing to do? You weren’t sure. Caught between the pull of a heart yearning for love and a mind that kept shutting it out, you felt a pang of helplessness.
"Sure," you murmured, almost to yourself, the word slipping out with a faint sense of defeat.
── .✦
"One americano and an iced caramel macchiato for Jaemin," the barista announced.
Jaemin gathered both drinks, and while you went to the restroom, he placed them at the table by the time you returned. The two of you settled into a cozy seat at a café near campus, the same place where you and Winter usually hung out. As you sat there, your thoughts drifted to your best friend, and a somber look crossed your face, which Jaemin quickly noticed.
"We haven’t seen much of each other lately," he remarked, though you couldn’t quite read his expression.
"Well, our professor has the flu," you replied. Jaemin simply nodded, taking a sip of his drink.
The silence lingered for a while, and once again, it felt like he was on the verge of saying something but was hesitating. Finally, he spoke up. "I missed you."
As you were about to take a sip from your cup, you froze for a moment, the cup hanging just a few inches from your lips.
"I missed you too, Jaemin," you replied, though deep down, you couldn't help but feel that developing feelings for Na Jaemin might be the most ironic twist fate had thrown your way.
"I want to be upfront," he started, and you could feel your heart race. "I’m not sure if you're intentionally ignoring me or if I did something wrong," he added.
"Your actions toward me have been confusing." You cut him off, attempting to conceal the real reason behind your behavior—the fact that you knew about him and Winter. As you spoke, you noticed Jaemin’s eyes soften.
"I know," he replied softly. "That’s why I’m here. I want to clear everything up."
For a moment, you found yourself wondering if what you had said was just an excuse, a way to justify your actions. Deep down, you realized that part of you was also eager to discover if Jaemin felt the same way about you as you did about him.
"The things I’ve done with you, the things I’m doing now, and the things I’m about to do—I'm not doing any of this just to be friends," Jaemin confessed. "I wanted to be clear and be 100% honest with you, because this is how it needs to be for it to work."
Hearing him speak so openly, you knew exactly where this conversation was headed.
"Your best friend, Winter... remember when you said she had a situationship here on campus?" Jaemin asked. You could only nod, finally bracing yourself to hear the confirmation.
"That was me," Jaemin admitted. You weren’t sure whether to feel heartbroken, knowing that your best friend was the failed situationship of the first boy you'd ever liked, or relieved, remembering how Jaemin had opened up about his past situationship with you.
"You told me that your first and last situationship was one of your biggest regrets. You said you didn’t want to go through it again, that it was pointless, a waste of time. That was Winter?" you asked, and Jaemin nodded in response.
Was it wrong to feel a sense of relief at his answer? He was clearly over your best friend, yet you couldn’t shake the guilt that lingered deep inside.
"I want to be completely honest with you," Jaemin said. "I like you, and if you feel the same, I’ll do everything I can to make it work. But that can only happen if I tell you this."
Both of you understood the consequences. You hadn't known that Jaemin was Winter's past situationship, and Winter hadn’t even mentioned it when you showed her the picture of you and Jaemin together. As for Jaemin, he was aware that you and Winter were best friends, but his feelings towards you all came naturally, and his intentions were sincere—what he felt for you was real.
"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner, but now that what I feel for you is clear, I knew you needed to know," Jaemin said.
His words made your heart sink. You appreciated Jaemin for being honest, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness. Winter, your best friend for years, couldn’t even face you or talk to you about it over the phone.
You never understood why girls would lose their minds over a boy, not until Na Jaemin came into your life. You could only smile wistfully, never expecting to find yourself caught up in this kind of situation.
"I actually knew since two days ago," you finally confessed to Jaemin. "Winter, she’s been ignoring me. She even soft blocked me and my friends on social media," you added, referring to Haechan and Mark.
You paused for a moment, then looked at Jaemin and said sincerely, "Thank you for talking this through with me," feeling a deep sadness in your stomach. "But I need some time," you added, almost as if you were saying it to yourself rather than to Jaemin.
He nodded in response, and you could see a smile on his face, though it carried an undertone of sadness. "I understand," he replied.
You left the café and as you walked a few blocks away, the rain began to pour. Quietly cursing, you realized you didn't have your umbrella. But when you checked your bag, you found one tucked inside.
It wasn't yours, but it looked familiar.
You sighed as you realized it must have been Jaemin's—he must have placed it in your bag while you were in the restroom.
── .✦
The rhythmic sound of the cheerleading team's synchronized movements echoed through the gym as they practiced. For the past few days, Winter had dedicated all her time and focus to cheer, as if nothing else mattered.
When practice finally ended, she sat on the benches while the rest of her teammates left. She was alone in the gym, at least until footsteps echoed in, though she didn’t initially pay much attention. It wasn’t until the footsteps stopped in front of her that she looked up from her phone—it was Jaemin.
Winter froze as Na Jaemin stood in front of her in the university gym. "Are you lost?" she asked with a chuckle, trying to mask the uneasy feeling swirling in her stomach.
"We need to talk," Jaemin said plainly. Winter couldn’t stop the frown that formed on her face, starting to piece together the real reason he was there. Jaemin wasn’t there for her—he was there because of her best friend.
"If you’re here to tell me to talk to my best friend, then you should just leave," Winter snapped, standing and hastily gathering her things.
"You’re selfish, you know that?" Jaemin’s words caught her off guard, but she continued packing, determined to ignore him.
"You cut me off when I wanted to court you properly. And now that I’ve started liking someone who’s ready to commit the way I am, you’re acting like you’re the one who’s been dumped," Jaemin said, his usual calm demeanor replaced with frustration.
"She’s my best friend!" Winter lashed out, nearly throwing her things in her anger as her voice echoed in the empty gym. Jaemin and Winter locked eyes, tension crackling between them.
"This is the first time she’s liked a guy, but I know she understands what girl code is," Winter said, her voice faltering. Even as the words left her mouth, she felt foolish. Jaemin had never truly meant anything to her; their connection had been casual. Yet somehow, her pride and ego felt bruised, as if her very identity had been challenged.
"If you wanted her to follow girl code so badly, why didn’t you confront her about it?" Jaemin shot back, his tone sharp. "Why did it have to be me telling her about us? Why did her other friends have to find out before she did? You weren’t honest with her."
"I was honest! Not entirely," Winter countered, her voice rising in defense. "But when I said you two looked good together, I meant it. You did look good together." She paused, her voice trembling now. "But that doesn’t mean it didn’t make me feel sick to my stomach," she admitted, her frustration spilling out in every word.
Her hands trembled as she spoke, guilt crashing over her. Winter felt like the worst friend, the worst person, for the way things had turned out. She hated the way she felt but couldn’t deny it.
"You two looked so good together that it started to hurt," Winter admitted, her voice heavy with emotion. "But I don’t have the right to feel that way because I was the one who cut you off. We had nothing, and I didn’t do anything to change that. I didn’t stop her from seeing you."
Winter’s frustration was palpable, but it wasn’t directed at Jaemin or her best friend—not really. Deep down, she was angry at herself, though she desperately wished she could blame someone else. The weight of her own choices and inaction bore down on her, leaving her overwhelmed with regret.
Winter felt a wave of helplessness as she locked eyes with Jaemin, her mind briefly imagining what it might have been like if she had given him a chance—if she had taken him seriously. But reality pulled her back, and she could only shake her head in resignation.
"Just take care of her," she said softly, her voice heavy with emotion.
"I know you will, but please, take care of her. She's been looking out for me for years, and she deserves someone who will do the same for her." She was referring to her best friend. Clutching her gym bag tightly, she turned and walked out of the gym.
Jaemin stood frozen in place, the sound of the gym door slamming shut echoing in the empty space. Letting out a deep sigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket.
Your name was on the screen—the call was still ongoing. You had heard everything.
Every word, every emotion in Winter’s voice, every part of the conversation. You had heard it all.
── .✦
Your lab classes had resumed, but Jaemin was no longer seated beside you. At first, it stung, but then you realized why he had moved. He was doing it for you—giving you the time and space you said you needed.
Days passed, and you could still feel his gaze linger on you when you weren’t looking. The moment you no longer sensed his eyes, you found yourself testing your luck, stealing glances at him as if trying to grow accustomed to admiring him from a distance.
It was bittersweet, almost cliché.
A sadness settled over you as you wondered: Is this your reality with Jaemin? To admire each other from afar? The thought crept in—perhaps you and Jaemin were better at yearning for each other than at actually being together.
Not long after Jaemin spoke to Winter, you received a message from her. It was brief, only a few words:
Winter: “I’m sorry. I hope I can talk to you properly soon. I love you.”
You didn’t bother replying. It was clear she wasn’t ready to have an honest conversation or fully confront the situation. And as much as it hurt, you knew you had to face it on your own.
Weeks passed, and another group task was assigned during your lab class. As usual, everyone was instructed to write their partner's name on a piece of paper.
Glancing around the room, you noticed Jaemin's seat was empty. Your grip on the pen tightened as an internal battle raged between your heart and mind. Letting out a quiet sigh, you decided to follow what you truly wanted.
Carefully, you wrote your name on the paper. Just below it, you added "Na Jaemin."
Staring at the name, you gave a small nod before rising from your seat to submit it to your professor.
"He won’t mind, right?" you murmured to yourself, hoping you were right.
── .✦
Jaemin sat in the cafeteria with his best friend, Jeno, who was happily devouring his lunch.
“Are they not eating lunch today?” Jaemin asked, glancing at his watch. He was referring to you and your friends, who usually occupied the far end of the cafeteria.
“She’s in the library,” a familiar voice chimed in, followed by the loud clatter of a food tray being slammed onto the table, startling both Jaemin and Jeno. The voice belonged to Haechan, who had appeared out of nowhere, with Mark trailing closely behind, carrying his own tray.
“Be careful,” Jeno muttered, giving Haechan a side-eye, but Haechan merely shrugged as he and Mark casually settled into the seats across from Jaemin and Jeno.
“Why are you guys sitting here?” Jeno asked, giving Mark, his classmate, a friendly grin afterward, pointing toward the end of the cafeteria where Haechan and Mark usually sat. Both Jaemin and Jeno looked at them, confused by the sudden change in routine.
"You were looking for us, right? It would be easier if we sat closer to you," Haechan joked.
"It would have been easier if you brought your friend with you," Jeno retorted, referring to you, earning a glare from Jaemin. "As Haechan said, she's in the library," Mark added.
An awkward silence settled over the table until Haechan broke it, clearing his throat to grab Jaemin's attention. "Do you still like her?" Haechan asked casually, causing Jeno to nearly choke on his food at how blunt Haechan was.
"What?" Jaemin responded, and Mark rolled his eyes at the answer.
"One of our seniors is planning to ask her out," Mark added, prompting another "What?" from Jaemin, this time it was so loud that people nearby started giving them puzzled looks.
"Yeah, so you'd better get your act together. A month is plenty of time for space, right?" Haechan teased, casually chewing his food.
"Oh, and she wrote you down as her lab partner, so I guess that's your cue to stop this silent treatment," Haechan added, prompting Jaemin to jump out of his seat, leaving his food untouched as he rushed to the library where the duo had said you were. He had only missed one lab class, and this is what he returned to.
Jaemin silently thanked his lucky stars. If he had been there, would you still have written his name as your lab partner? No one could know for sure, but he quietly appreciated the universe's strange twist of fate—giving him a headache that day, which kept him from attending the class and the calls.
Jeno simply watched his best friend dash off, shrugging before going back to his food. He then looked at Mark and Haechan sitting across from him. "So, is it true that one of your seniors wants to ask her out?" Jeno asked.
"Nope," the duo replied in unison.
── .✦
Peeking through the library, Jaemin let out a sigh when he didn't see you. You must have already left. With lab class not until tomorrow, Jaemin considered texting you but hesitated, thinking it would feel strange to reach out after a month of silence. He decided to wait until the next day instead.
As the last period ended and he walked through the campus gates, Jaemin sighed again when rain began to drizzle. He scratched the back of his neck, deciding not to waste time by waiting for the rain to stop. It wasn’t too heavy, so he kept walking, feeling the droplets on his skin. Pausing at the stoplight, he waited for the signal to turn green. That's when he noticed the rain no longer falling on him.
Looking up, he saw you holding an umbrella over his head.
"You shouldn't walk in the rain, you might get sick," you said, making Jaemin freeze for a moment as he realized it was you. The umbrella he had placed in your bag during your last meeting at the café was now in your hands.
"I don't want my lab partner missing another class," you added, trying to sound casual, but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you.
Jaemin couldn’t help but smile, a wave of happiness swelling in his chest. He nodded and reached for the umbrella, but your hand brushed against his, making him hesitate. Without thinking, he ended up holding the umbrella for both of you.
"Thank you," he said, his heart racing slightly. You could only smile in response, at a loss for words.
It had been some time since you were this close to Jaemin, feeling the warmth radiating from his body as you both shared the umbrella. Jaemin’s phone vibrated, a notification popping up. You couldn’t help but shake your head slightly, a bigger smile spreading across your face when you saw it was a message from Jeno.
Jeno: “Thank me later! She asked me about your last class.”
Jaemin smiled at the text before turning off his phone, his expression suddenly shifting to one of seriousness.
"Is it true that a senior wanted to ask you out?" he asked out of nowhere.
You looked at him, clearly confused. "What? What senior?" you replied, bewildered.
Jaemin studied your face for a moment, sighing as he realized Mark and Haechan had been playing a prank on him. "I hate your friends," he muttered, pulling you closer so you wouldn’t get wet from the rain.
── .✦
You and Jaemin resumed talking comfortably after that, with the two of you becoming lab partners again. Thankfully, Jaemin didn’t mind, and in fact, he was quite happy about it. He started sitting with you again in class, and during breaks, your friend group began sitting together with Jaemin and Jeno.
The attraction between the two of you? It was clearly still there, but now the signs were more obvious.
Jaemin no longer hesitated to hold your hand, kiss the back of your hand—whether it was randomly, out of boredom, or as a simple gesture to show his adoration for you—buy you lunch, carry your bag, and walk you home like before. He’d share his headphones with you, always finding a reason to walk by your side, even if it meant taking the longer route. Na Jaemin would take note of all the small things you liked, showing just how much he cared.
You weren’t being subtle either. Instead of admiring him from afar, you now had the chance to admire him up close as he focused on the lab report beside you. You’d make little excuses to talk to him, always try to sit next to him, finding small ways to be near him. You’d even send him little texts just to check in, and when you saw new art galleries or exhibits in town, you’d share them with him, suggesting that the two of you go visit together.
These are just a few of the many ways the two of you express your growing feelings for each other. After a few weeks, Jaemin began courting you, showing you just how serious he was about his feelings. This time, you chose to follow your heart.
Whenever you were with Jaemin, you’d find yourself staring at him for a while, watching a soft smile form on his lips whenever he caught your gaze. Every moment spent with him was filled with gestures of affection, and each one made your heart flutter with happiness.
── .✦
It was a special day—the annual cheer team competition, a major event for universities, where cheer teams from different schools came together to compete.
Your and Winter's universities were among them.
Since Winter was part of her university's cheer team, you knew you'd be seeing her today. Although you hadn’t spoken to her since her last message, you often found yourself checking her social media to keep up with her. From her posts, you could tell she’d been busy with cheer and had started partying less. You even came across a post where she had tried baking—a new hobby she had taken up to keep herself occupied. Sometimes, you wondered if she thought of you as much as you thought of her, or if she ever stalked your social media or checked in on your friends' posts to see how you were doing.
“Hi, here’s a free cupcake for you!” one of the students from another university said, offering a cupcake with their cheer team's name on it.
“Oh, but I’m from a different university,” you chuckled.
The person smiled and insisted, “This is a friendly competition! Take it.”
You accepted the cupcake with a thank you and made your way to your seat, where your friends and Jaemin were already waiting.
You glanced at the cupcake, noticing it had the logo of Winter’s cheer team on it. A soft smile crossed your face as you realized it was from her team. You missed Winter so much.
As you began nibbling on the cupcake, you shared it with Jaemin, unaware that Winter herself had baked it. She and her team had made the cupcakes for their supporters, and she knew you'd be there. Winter could only smile to herself as she watched you in the crowd, munching on the cupcake she had made.
Winter noticed Jaemin sitting beside you, opening a bottle of water for you while you enjoyed the sweet treat. This time, she didn’t feel that uneasy knot in her stomach. Her smile wasn’t bittersweet; it was genuine.
Fuck Girl Code.
Na Jaemin was truly looking after you, just as she had hoped.
"I hope you don’t think of me too much, I don’t want you to be sad over someone like me," Winter whispered to herself, watching as you and Jaemin laughed at something, Jaemin kissing the back of your hand as if it were second nature.
Suddenly, your eyes met Winter's. You were taken aback to see her looking at you, but instead of turning away or ignoring you, Winter gave you a warm smile. You returned the smile, and maybe, for now, that was all that mattered.
── .✦
tags: @carelessshootanonymous @taliaamara @zgzgzh @tinyzen @urlocalbeaner5 @profoundruinsunknown @lovesuhng @moryymor @haechanmybaechan @mmjhh1998 @cottonjaems @darumdarimdaa @hyucksnctzen @cherryynoir @haechanahceah67 @cigarettesafterjae @eternoange1 @yananluvclub @doubledoie @t-102 @nosungluv @aracy @haesluvr @charlunaotte @hyuksworld @maarslvr
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livelaughloveluffy · 2 months ago
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first kiss - roronoa zoro
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a/n: ahhhhhh!! this is a bit different from the usual fics that i write, so hopefully you guys enjoy it!! for whatever reason, zoro is just on the brain right now, but i'm certainly not complaining about that 😌 versions with the other boys are certainly in the works!!!
nothing but fluff here 💗
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-the first time his lips fell upon yours, was because he couldn't stand the way a certain blonde cook was looking at you. you could taste the jealousy on his lips, and even though you responded by kissing him back, it only spurred him to be more possessive, marking you as his.
-zoro kisses you like it's his main source of staying alive. it's greedy, lustful, and a bit rough. he'll bit your lower lip from time to time, his tongue pushes its way into your mouth, exploring. one of his hands gets tangled up into your hair, pulling your head closer to him. his other hand placed on your hip to make sure your body is flesh against his.
-with the swordsman's lips on yours, you can't help but be utterly consumed by him. you have forgotten what life was like when his lips weren't on yours, the only air you've suddenly ever known is the two you share, you are completely enveloped into him.
-while you may have doubted you relationship with zoro before the kiss, during and after there is not a shadow of a doubt in your mind about the way he feels about you. the yearning and eagerness in his lips is something that could never go unnoticed. and while sometimes words fail him, his kiss will never deny the fact that he is undeniably in love with you.
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a/n: am i writing fics instead of doing my labs? maybe...... should i be doing my labs instead? absolutely..... will i do my labs instead of writing more fics? probably not..... 😭😭😭
a/n: totally accidentally posted this on zoro's birthday, insanely good and lucky timing on my part 😌😌
a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!
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