#I take back what i said about him the other day he's a good man

[blkkizzat]

❝AYY, FUCK YO IG, I PUT SOMETHIN' ON YO SONOGRAM— I'M THE MAN.ᐟ❞

─•──── FARMHAND!TOJI X BIMBO!READER

꥟ summary: farm au. you and toji can't keep your hands off each other since he first turned you out in the barn and he's determined to put a baby in you ASAP! ꥟ wc: 2088 ꥟ a/n: I had to do something for my mans for his bday and I MADE it in my time zone at least (pst) FarmHand!Toji just comes so easy to me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY TOJI.ᐟ

[ read p1: here ]

FarmHand!Toji who after the first time fucking you senseless in the barn can't keep his hands off of you. God, it's so hard for him to get any chores and shit done when your young tight cunny spreads so willingly for him.

Out in the pastures, the herd of cows block the distant view of the both of you from the farm. Making it the perfect location for Toji to freely fuck you sloppy like you've been pouting for all morning.

Wanting to tease his sweet lil' Bunny, Toji would have made you wait even longer (so he could do a bit of actual work) but you always kept him on his toes. You were so much of a brat you pushed limits with him constantly.

This time your achieve your naughty goal by flashing him your pantyless pussy.

"Whoops, must have forgot to put some on this morning! I'm so silly huh, Daddy?"

You bat your lashes and sway your jiggling hips so innocently. Like the hot sun wasn't glistening off the gooey slick drenching your puffy pussy lips —it was fucking obscene.

Obviously, Toji is hard instantly but you still needed to be taught a lesson and he'd yet to keep his promise of 'fucking some manners into your haughty cunt.'

You clearly still didn't know how to act.

What with his lil' Bunny skipping around the farm all morning bare assed and so nonchalantly too?

How many times does he have to remind you he'd kill someone over you?

No one else was allowed to see what belonged to him alone...

Jealous as hell, Toji angerily snatches you up as you squee in excitement finally getting what you'd been craving. Easily flipping you over, Toji's large muscular arms drapes you over the old wooden fence like you were a mere feather.

The fact that Toji was supposed to be patching up said fence, not causing further structural damage from how hard he was about to tear your ass up is not lost on him. He simply just can't bring himself to give a fuck at the moment, not when you get him so riled up like this. Pushing your thin white sundress up your back, Toji doesn't even need to prepare you before he ruts into your heated core. Honestly, it didn't take Toji long at all to mold your pretty lil' pussy to the shape of his stocky girth. Your wet warm hole welcomes him back eagerly like it was his home. The pull of that creamy cunny of yours sucking him deeper to the hilt—even before his own hips could shealth himself fully inside—shit.

"That's a good girl bunny, that pussy opens up so good f'er me now, n'—HELL... She's just as fuckin' tight too."

Pistoning forward, Toji doesn't waste time with warming you up with slow strokes.

Not when you act out like this.

He knows once you get this way you are practically begging for him to pound you rough, deep and fast.

True to the nickname he bestowed you Bunny, you wanted him to fuck you stupid like one daily. Demanding Toji's hefty cock be plunged into your cunt during all hours of the day—especially at night.

Your slutty pussy was so hungry for his dick stretching her, you even foolishly volunteered the farm's security codes to Toji. Meaning he could slip not only in and out of your room at night —but the farm entirely. This was excellent for the illegal business he was forming under the cover of the farm.

Little risk of getting caught now too.

That old farmer slept like the dead and he'd been able to bribe the less than scrupulous night security workers.

Heh. Smuggling contraband in now was a breeze.

But in order for his plan to be put fully in motion he needed to knock you up quickly. Cumming in your quivering pussy 3-4 times a day was a necessity and Toji was more than up for the task.

He needed a baby in you yesterday.

And yet the way your greedy pussy hungered for him, strangling his length every time you came on his cock for the nth time made him think she secretly wanted to be a mommy too —you were the only one who didn't know that yet. You milked him so well like you were made for Toji to breed you —just waiting all this time for his nefarious ex-con cock to destroy you.

Toji grunts escalate as the old fence creaks and shakes from him brutishly bullying himself further into your guts. You moan deeply with every maddening thrust of his pelvis forcing his thick meaty cockhead to kiss your womb.

"Shiiit..Mmmm—OOOH!" The rebound of your plump ass ripples against his pelvis and Toji thinks its his favorite sight in the world. Both hands on your hips, Toji digs crescents into your flesh as he drives him into you over and over, deeper and deeper. The vulgar noises of moist skin slapping echo from your bodies —bodies which only get hotter and wetter under the oppressive heat of the sun and it's all so intoxicating. Your chest heaves as you take desperate breathes, your lungs struggle to even expand with how roughly Toji plowing into you.

There's nothing you can do but dangle there and let Daddy Toji use you like he wanted—not that you would have it any other way, loving when his cock purees your mind into just as much of the sloppy mess as your pussy. Toji could tell by your cries too just how your ass liked to be ferally manhandled like you were one of these barn animals.

"Yeah that's right my slutty brat 'moo' louder f'er Daddy while ya squirt on his cock. Ya wanna let this whole farm know who's making you feel this good, huh ma?"

You whine at Toji likening your pleasure filled sobs to that of cow noises but you're needy 'lil cunny only squeezes him tighter —just as he knew she would. Toji knows how much you like him talking crazy to you when he's fucking you six ways to Sunday, balls smacking your clit.

Thankfully no one could actually hear you from way out here. Meaning he was free to spew all kinds of nasty shit into your ear drawing even more slobber from your swollen pussy lips. It only made you hotter on the inside your mind only focusing on his debased dirty talk and the drag of his cock against your g-spot —Toji was hitting it perfectly from this angle. "Ya know ya fuckin' suck at milking cows but this juicy pussy? She sure knows how t'milk a cock like its 'er job." And it would be your job too if Toji had any say. Fuck going back to school at the end of summer and fuck getting a career. You didn't need to do anything but lay on your back and let Toji do the rest. Heh, you wouldn't be able to do much else but be on your back once you started growing his kids inside you anyway. He'd keep you nice n fucked out to the point you'd almost stay pregnant.

Spanking your ass harshly, the sting fills fresh tears on your already bleary eyes. You squeak between your pitchy moans as your pussy weeps so much of your arousal around your sex and down your thighs the squelchy gurgles of your creamy cunt are heard throughout the field.

"S'gudddd Daddy! HAH—HARDER!!"

You really are the perfect slut for him. Wanting him to go harder?

Could you even handle that?

As your reward Toji gifts you another spank, shaking the fence entirely now as it sways on its exposed hinges. It's a miracle it's still standing.

But Toji was determined to have you all for himself, to have everything —you, the farm, a wife —to bring Megumi here away from his twisted ass family so you could be the mother he never had. Thoughts of domesticating you makes him want to bust in you even more as he chases his release.

Wrapping an arm around your middle Toji lifts you so he can thumb at your clit. The rough pad of his thickest digit scrapes over your bud sending rapid tingles through your body that has drool pouring out of your mouth and cunt. "Daddy's gonna put his milk in y'er tummy, yeah Bunny? Tell me ya want it slutty mama —beg me f'er it."

But you can't beg, you can't do anything but ride the rapturous wave of pleasure radiating from your core as you squirt on his cock like a good Bunny. Your orgasm following soon after with enough force from erratic rhythm of spasms in your walls to make Toji spurt is scorching seed inside you. Filling your womb as you purr from the sensation.

Toji bites harshly down on your shoulder —another mark you'd have to hide from your uncle —who thought you were just a rather clumsy girl getting so many marks on you from your farm chores.

Slicked in sweat and your gushy pussy's fluids Toji slumps forward still inside you, his entire weight bearing down on you.

"T-Tojiiiii!" You whine in that pretty, utterly angelic way Toji usually can't resist but he had to keep his cock plugged in you a bit longer if he wanted a baby in you by the end of the month. He eases up a bit though, rubbing your sore ass cheeks and murmuring something about 'when he finally gets to use your ass' as his thumb ghosts aimlessly over your puckered hole.

When Toji finally pulls out of you, you're barely standing. Slumping your elbows on the fence, your hips went a bit numb from being folded like a pancake over the rough wood fence with a big man like Toji putting his weight on you.

Truthfully, Toji didn't even want to pull out. He could go a few more but you need to get back to the farm soon before your uncle came around looking. He'd question you if you kept missing lunch everything.

As if you could read Toji's thoughts you pipe up, voice a bit hoarse already from all your moaning. "I told my uncle I'd probably walk to the lake again today. So he won't be expecting me back until the evening, you know..." After enough feeling returns to your lower body you push off the fence and prance over to a nearby tree at the edge of the clearing. Pulling off your dress fully you lay it down on the lush green grass in the shade. Fully nude, the sun peeks through the shade's leaves, decorating your skin in its shadowed rays.

You stretch like a cat on your makeshift dress-blanket. Spreading your legs wide and arching, you gaze over to Toji from under your babydoll lashes. He's already on his way over to you. "Looks like I'm your lunch today Daddy... c'mon n' eat me up before I get cold."

Oh you didn't know what you fucking did to him... or maybe you did?

You were clever sure but all reason flew out the window when it came to Toji from the minute he first jammed his cock into your lewd sappy cunt.

Heh, you wanted FarmHand!Toji to ruin you? Well little did you know that's exactly what he planned to do anyway— trap you, and ruin your life and that pussy of yours at the same time.

꥟

Back on farm an old dusty white bus stops at the gate.

A lone prisoner exits, a man accused of being a serial killer— 27 victims all skinned and gutted mercilessly like fish in under two years.

However, the man has always protested his innocence.

The evidence at best was circumstantial, with a conviction based solely off of a lone witness who was later proven to be unreliable. As a result the appeal of his life sentence is currently in process, much to the excitement and anger, respectfully, of both his many supporters and detractors.

Yet the way his P.O. comically cowers is a stark contrast to the vibe of the prisoner. The tall, well built convict appears calm, somber even.

This was really the man that killed 27 people?

His eyes survey his surroundings with the hesitant curiosity of a puppy—nothing like the dangerous threat the courts or his P.O. make him out to be. Handed over into your uncle's care, the flighty P.O. quickly gets back on the bus, signalling the driver to get ghost quickly as if your uncle would change his mind at the last minute.

Your uncle on the other hand isn't intimidated at all by the notorious, supposedly innocent, pigtailed cold blooded killer. "Welcome to the farm, son. Like I tell everyone, just do as your told and stay outta trouble —you'll do fine I reckon. Don't fuck this up now, boy. In your case especially, this is the chance to prove yourself worthy of an appeal or its back to solitary for life Choso Kamo."

꥟

♡ blkkizzat ©2023-2025 ♡ — 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐎 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫— 𝐚𝐢 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

꥟ a/n: oh hehe, i wonder what will come of toji's plan now that Farmhand!Choso has arrived 😈😩? Also y'all think he's innocent or guilty? 💕🤭 tysm for reading! lol idk if i end up writing more of this but this is my no pressure, for fun project (i whipped this up in like 3 hrs so whether i will or when it will come out i can't say~ i already have sm on my plate but farmhand!toji is special to meee and its his bday so had to run it back on him. i may come back edit this since i was rushing sorry for any mistakes! reblogs and comments appreciated!

[dollyichi]

IN-STORE EXCLUSIVE

katsuki bakugou x f ! reader ᯓ★ 1.7k words. fluff / both are pro-heroes / maybe a little ooc but idc / no established relationship, he likes you though / hints on mutual feelings / not proofread

you catch him buying your merch during a morning patrol.

katsuki’s currently getting ready for the day. it’s his day off and could’ve chosen stayed in as usual, but he had an agenda. he’s already thinking of it while he’s tying his shoes, how he could approach it the best he can. well, maybe a bit too seriously.

he thinks it’s stupid but he’s been wanting to visit this new merch store in the city that opened the other day. he missed the big opening, which was fine—better not to get ‘caught’ and bring any attention to him, especially not when midoriya’s the main guest for the opening promotions. he doesn’t want midoriya to run his mouth in front of everybody.

it’s still early morning, and he hopes not a lot of people were in the area, assuming most of them are busy or on the way to work, so their routes should be different from the one he’ll take. he even made sure to check who’s patrolling. it’s just todoroki today, so he didn’t mind. it’s a secluded area, having to pass an alley to enter the store’s street no one should be there anymore since most exclusives for the grand opening should be sold out.

with a huff, he locks the front door and makes his way to the shop. pushing down his cap further. kids were able to recognize him though, giving him a wave while their parents apologized. “i’m on a secret mission kid.” he says as a joke and they nod in enthusiasm, happy to see a hero at work. “pfft.” he laughs to himself when the kid salutes him and goes back to his mother.

once he gets to the store, he’s scanning the area, only a few people were inside. it’s pretty big, seeing how there were also other merch aside from the heroes section.

the staff greets him a good morning from the counter and he gives him a nod. he checks his face if he remembered to put his face mask on. he sighs in relief feeling the cloth on his mouth and goes to the heroes aisle—he looks like a creep the staff doing rounds almost wanted to kick him out.

“lots of me in here.” he mumbles to himself.

he thinks it’s crazy how high the prices were for a figurine of him (the manufacturers usually gives it to him for free). he looks around, cringing when he sees midoriya and todoroki’s section. “shit’s not even worth the damn thing.” he thinks, but then again, he’s a dumb hypocrite.

it’s already a pain to even get to the store. he could’ve ordered anything he wanted to online but this line of collectibles were in-store exclusive and it just happened to be in this store which was a relief. he really would’ve drove to a different city just for it—though, it was also dangerous if someone catches him. he could’ve asked anyone to buy for him too, even thought of todoroki to purchase for him but that man doesn’t have the same shame he would have if he gets seen. plus he didn’t like the idea of a dating rumor of you and todoroki if he’s seen with the merchandise.

he was only supposed to buy one figurine, but ends up buying a few more, pin buttons and one big plushie that he finds really cute of you. he chuckles to himself when it got that ‘same dumb smile’ you always have on your face—the one that causes his heart to skip a beat, even when he didn’t want it to.

this all started when midoriya found out about his little crush when katsuki got into an accident with a victim they saved. it was a big mission where several individuals in the area went missing, turns out a whole gang was using them for blackmail and ransom. every hero in the area, including you, were tracking every villain involved in this case.

a little girl in hostage activated her ‘truth quirk’ when she clung onto the blonde. midoriya was asking him what he’s thinking of—he meant what to do with the villains—instead, katsuki said, “i think y/n’s really pretty tonight.” and he slaps his mouth, he didn’t mean to say that.

apparently the kid’s quirk manages to bring out the deep inner thoughts of the person they used their ability on. “t-that’s n-nice kac- dynamight but i’m asking about the villain… hehe.”

the quirk lasted the whole night and he made sure to keep him mouth shut, having midoriya talk for him instead for their initial report. because when he answered another question from the green haired hero the only thing that ever left his mouth was about you. how he wished he was doing this mission with you instead, or about how many people you saved that night.

eventually midoriya gives him a TCG of you and while he wanted to act like he didn’t want it, it sent shivers down his spine thinking midoriya would have a photo of you, so he takes it (keeps it in his wallet too).

then he got even more invested when he saw collectors online, showing off their ‘rare y/n merchandise’ which got him seething too. he’s not gonna lose, not at all.

which brings him here.

he heads over to the counter with his head down. the staff notices the pink hue on the tips of his fingers and laughs (pissed katsuki real bad). “you like her too huh? i think she could definitely be a top 5 hero soon.” they say. katsuki doesn’t respond instead waits for his total and pays with his card. “fucking nerd shouldn’t talk about her at all.” he thinks. in fact, he thinks your ‘weird fans’ shouldn’t even breathe the same air as you. treating you like some idol, it’s fucking gross.

“have a great day sir!” he takes a breather when he gets out the store. a paper bag in one hand, and the plushie around his arm. he thinks he looks pathetic right now but it’s not like anyone would notice him if he gets home quick, right?

he walks fast but not too much to get him any unwanted attention. taking the same route home quietly and fast.

though he stops in his tracks before even exiting the alley, seeing todoroki waving to him. “you have y/n’s merch?”

katsuki takes off his mask, “mind your business half n’ half bastard.” and walks away flipping him off. it’s fine, it didn’t bother him too much if todoroki were to see anyway.

however, the icy-hot hero was just about to warn him what’s up ahead but it was too late, katsuki’s already gone.

he could’ve hit a perfect home run until he’s stopped on the sidewalk by someone he definitely didn’t want to see right now.

“katsuki?” he internally panics when he hears you. too in shock he looks up from the ground, flashing you his eyes. he blinks and immediately ignores you by walking away, tucking the plushie in his jacket. yet you follow him, already floating to his side with a curious smile. “just what is it with this area suddenly?” he’s mentally screaming right now.

you knew those pair of eyes anywhere no matter how much he tried to cover it. “you’re on patrol right now, huh?” he says with a low voice.

“yup with shou! did you see him? he went first before i did.” you chirp, “didn’t think i’d see you today with…” you look down to see a bag full of your own merch and your newest plushie’s head peeking out of his jacket, “me?”

katsuki’s face turns red. if it was even possible, smoke would be coming out of his ears since he’s been caught by the worst person—fate is really messing with him today. “i’m buying this for that dumb izuku!” he lies, hoping you’d buy it, but you could only giggle. “really? i don’t think you’d do that for him though?” katsuki curses under his breath.

“look kats i’m real flattered. could i take a picture of you like this?” you clap, floating around him.

“fuck off! don’t push your luck. besides, shouldn’t you be on fucking patrol?” he shakes his head and tries to loose you again, unfortunately for him, you’re quicker.

“mhm! you’re right.” you say, “but i only have a few minutes left before i switch shifts.” he’s not even looking at you. “besides i went extra early for today.” you take a quick glance at what’s inside the bag. “it’s a really good thing i did! real great!” you giggle. katsuki’s really flustered, hoping you’d just go away soon and you’d forget about this in an hour. to add more to his rapidly beating heart, you look so good in your hero costume. the fan in him wanted you to sign the toys he just got—well, as if he’d do that at all, he really planned to take this ‘secret’ to the grave (it’s okay to shoot your shot katsuki!)

he seemed lost in thought, and it was the perfect opportunity for you take your phone out and get a quick picture of him before you fly off. katsuki flinches when he hears the ‘click’ but you’re already so up high, laughing away and he’s screaming a string of curses at you.

he didn’t know who to blame, but he knew he fucked up even more when he gave you that stupid excuse. “what the fuck…” he says through his teeth, rubbing his temples with one hand as he walks back home.

katsuki never feels shame, but there’s always that stupid thing you do to him to feel things he’s never bothered to before—right now it’s embarrassment.

tomorrow was supposed to be his shift to patrol with you. he doesn’t even know how to face you after that. when he gets home he immediately sets it up and lays down on his couch.

after a few hours he gets a text from you. ‘i got one of yours after my shift!’ is what it read and it was a small chibi doll of him. you’re so adorable holding the mini version of him close to your face while you’re in your costume, he couldn’t help but save it.

he thinks, “wait, what does that mean?” does it mean you like him too? what’s even the point of you doing all that for his sake?

he then gets another message from you. a picture of him walking out the alley with a smile, clutching the plushie while todoroki’s looking from behind him. sometimes he really hates your flying abilities even when he thinks it’s the coolest.

“ha… you knew all this. well two can play that game.” as if he could even try to embarrass you after that.

oh whatever. he never loses, right?

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : i feel like i keep embarrassing reader in front of kats so it’s payback time :p i didn’t mean for this to be so long omg. MINORS AND AGLESS BLOGS DO NOT FOLLOW ME!

[aspenmissing]

ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀʟɪꜱ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇʜᴏʟᴅ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ || ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ/ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 1097 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀʟʟɪꜱ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇʜᴏʟᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ Qᴜɪᴇᴛ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ʟᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪɢʜᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴀɴᴛᴇʀ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ. ᴀᴍɪᴅ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇᴅ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋꜰᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴏꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀʙ, ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴊᴏʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛɪᴇ��.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

The gentle light of dawn filtered through the lace curtains of the Tallis household, casting a soft glow over the quiet rooms. Outside, the city of Piltover was just beginning to stir. Airships hummed faintly in the distance, and the occasional bark of a merchant announcing their wares carried through the streets. But inside the warm, comfortable home shared by Jayce, Viktor, and you, the world felt still and serene.

You were the first to wake—as always. The bed was a tangle of limbs and warmth, with Viktor tucked neatly at your side and Jayce sprawled across the rest of the mattress like a human starfish. It was a miracle Viktor managed to get any rest with Jayce’s restless movements, but he never complained. In fact, he often joked that the chaos kept him young.

Carefully, you wriggled out from under Viktor’s arm, doing your best not to disturb him. He made a soft noise of protest, his brow furrowing slightly before settling back into peaceful sleep. Jayce, on the other hand, remained oblivious, his snore rumbling low and steady. You smiled fondly at the sight of them, their contrasting personalities so evident even in sleep.

Padding into the kitchen, you set about your morning routine. The kettle was soon on the stove, its comforting whistle blending with the rhythmic ticking of the clock. The scent of fresh coffee beans filled the air as you ground them by hand, relishing the quiet moments before the house fully woke.

By the time you heard the familiar shuffle of Viktor’s cane in the hallway, the table was set with steaming mugs of coffee and a plate of buttered toast. You turned just in time to see him enter, his golden eyes still heavy with sleep and his unruly hair sticking up in every direction. He looked utterly endearing.

“Good morning, my love,” you greeted, pulling out a chair for him. “Did you sleep well?”

He gave a small nod, gently placing a kiss on my lips before lowering himself into the chair with a sigh. “Well enough,” he said, his voice still husky from sleep. “Though I suspect Jayce attempted to wrestle me in his dreams again.”

You laughed softly, pouring him a cup of coffee. “He’s lucky you’re too patient to retaliate.”

Viktor rolls his eyes playfully, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. “Patience is a virtue when you live with a man who sleeps like a flailing octopus.”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh before a loud thud from the bedroom signaled Jayce’s less-than-graceful awakening. Moments later, he stumbled into the kitchen, his hair a wild mess and his shirt half-tucked into his pajama pants.

“Morning,” he mumbled, making a beeline for the coffee pot.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you teased, sliding a mug toward him. “Rough night?”

Jayce grunted, taking a long sip of coffee before replying. “I had the weirdest dream. Viktor was… building a robotic octopus, and it kept chasing me around the lab.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching with amusement. “Perhaps your subconscious is trying to tell you something.”

“Yeah, maybe to stop eating so many snacks before bed,” you added, earning a mock-offended look from Jayce.

Breakfast was a relaxed affair, filled with the usual banter and laughter that defined your mornings together. Jayce devoured his toast with the enthusiasm of a man who’d been starved for days, while Viktor nibbled his more methodically, his focus already drifting toward the day’s projects. You alternated between sipping your coffee and reminding Jayce to slow down.

“So,” you began, leaning back in your chair. “What’s on the agenda today?”

Jayce brightened immediately. “I’ve been working on some new hextech prototypes. They’re not quite ready for testing, but I’m hoping to make some progress today.”

“And by ‘progress,’ he means blowing something up,” Viktor quipped, earning a laugh from you and a playful glare from Jayce.

“It’s called experimentation,” Jayce defended, pointing his coffee spoon at Viktor. “Besides, you’re the one who nearly set the lab on fire last week.”

“That was an isolated incident,” Viktor replied smoothly. “And if I recall correctly, you were the one who suggested increasing the power output.”

“I—” Jayce began, but you interrupted with a laugh.

“Alright, boys, let’s not turn breakfast into a blame game. Save the explosions and whose to blame for the lab.”

After breakfast, the three of you fell into your usual rhythm. Jayce and Viktor headed to the lab, their minds already buzzing with ideas, while you took some time to tidy up the house. Despite their brilliance, neither of them was particularly organized, and you often joked that it was your full-time job to keep their chaos in check.

As you moved through the house, you found little traces of their lives woven into every corner—a stack of blueprints on the dining table, a half-finished sketch of a new invention on the couch, and Viktor’s favourite book resting on the armchair where he often sat to read. You couldn’t help but smile at the evidence of their shared passions and their shared space with you.

Later in the day, you prepared some snacks and made your way to the lab. The soft hum of machinery greeted you as you pushed open the door, revealing Jayce and Viktor bent over a glowing piece of hextech. Their heads were so close together it was a wonder they hadn’t bumped into each other.

“Our savior,” Jayce declared dramatically when he noticed you, grabbing a cookie from the tray before you’d even set it down. He grinned, crumbs already on the corners of his mouth.

Viktor glanced up, his golden eyes warm with affection. “Don’t encourage him,” he said with a fond smile, though he accepted a cup of tea gratefully.

You shook your head, amused as always by their antics. “How’s it going?” you asked, leaning against the workbench.

“It’s going great,” Jayce said through a mouthful of cookie. “I think we’re close to something big.”

“Or another explosion,” Viktor murmured, though his tone was light.

As they launched into an animated explanation of their progress, complete with wild gestures from Jayce and more measured input from Viktor, you couldn’t help but feel a swell of affection. This was your life with them—full of creativity, warmth, and the perfect balance of chaos and calm. Watching them together, their passion for their work and their clear admiration for each other shining through, you were reminded once again just how lucky you were to be a part of it all.

[p1astr81]

in disguise -op81

in which: Oscar’s classmate invites him—well, himself and spider-man—to her New Year’s Eve party where things take a turn for the worse for him. (au)

pairing: spider-man!oscar piastri x reader

warnings: use of y/n, alcohol consumption, cursing

part 1 | part 2

‧‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Weeks had passed since that first day on the rooftop. Oscar would meet you everyday he could, on the same rooftop, around the same time.

You found yourself waiting for him, longing for his presence, searching the skies for a blur of blue and red. And you found yourself smiling every time you heard him drop down behind you and joined you on the ledge.

Tonight was no different.

Half an hour had passed but it felt like seconds. “What if someone was being robbed while you’re sitting up here with me?”

Oscar laughed with his chest, folding over himself. “Then I guess I’ll be getting a call from Mr. Stark about my avenger title being revoked.”

You chuckled, but the sound was all air. “Uhm, speaking of not doing your work…” you started, staring down at your swinging feel. “Do you think you could get New Year’s Eve off? I mean there’s going to be cops all over the city anyway.” Your face was flushed, a tinge of pink coloring your cheeks. You were nervous, an emotion Oscar didn’t even think you were capable of.

“I don’t know if superhero’s ever get a day off but perhaps I could cut my hours short?” He grinned under the mask.

“I just- I’m having a party and I think it would be really cool if you could come.” Your voice was small, scared of rejection from Spider-Man. That kind of rejection would be enough to kill a person.

The anxiety was lifted from your shoulders when he spoke, “yeah, I’ll definitely make some time.”

۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ

Oscar shuffled through his books, stashing the anatomy one in his locker and exchanging it for the calculus book.

“Hey,” the voice unmistakably belonged to you. You stood beside Oscar’s locker, a hand laxly holding onto the metal door, your bodies nearly touching.

Thinking you couldn’t possibly be talking to him, he turned in the other direction, but no one was there. “Yes I’m talking to you, Oscar.” You laughed.

He met your eyes with his own, now blown wide. “Well don’t look too shocked yet.”

Oscar awkwardly adjusted his posture and fixed his expression to a more neutral one. Your smile did well to hold back your laughter.

“Listen, I’m having a New Year’s Eve party and I want you to come.”

Of course, Oscar was already invited as spider-man, and said yes as spider-man. But to turn down a party invite from you would be insanely stupid of him. “Yeah, I’ll be there.” He nodded.

Your smile brightened. “Great! Uhm but if I could get your number so I could send you the address that would be good.”

Scrambling through his locker, Oscar was searching for the pack of sticky notes he swore he had. “Here,” you spoke, a light pink sticky note held delicately between your fingers. Oscar scribbled his number onto the paper and handed it back to you, fingers brushing past each other as you plucked it from his hand. “Perfect. Looking forward to seeing you there.” You winked before walking off. Just from that single muscle movement, Oscar’s face felt far too hot.

“Ha. What are you blushing for?” Logan poked Oscar’s shoulder. “I was just invited to y/n’s New Years Eve party.” He spoke, a level of bewilderment in his voice.

“No fucking way!” He hit Oscar’s shoulder with far too much force, jolting Oscar back to reality. “You’ve gotta bring me with you.” Still half in a haze, Oscar nodded.

۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ

“Mr. Stark?” Oscar called out, cautiously venturing further into the compound.

Tony called him not long ago. Not much explanation was given except for that it was an urgent matter and Oscar absolutely had to rush over to the compound.

“Mr. Stark is in his lab.” Friday’s robotic voice informed from above. Face turned towards the ceiling, Oscar gave a small “thanks” before rushing off to meet Tony.

“Mr Stark?” Oscar called, catching himself on the doorframe to throw himself into the room, having been running far too fast.

As his gaze was locked on the large holographic screen ahead of him, Tony gestured for Oscar to come closer. They both watched as one man—dressed in what looked to be a comically large fur-lined cape—hovered over a bridge, freezing over the whole structure. A giant snowball was conjured from the air, and quickly turned to a solid block of ice. It was then smashed into the side of the bridge, obliterating the concrete walls and sending cars down onto the—now frozen—water below. They crushed on impact.

“Oh my god.” Oscar breathed out in horror. Head hung low, Tony paused the clip. “His name is Ryder West, but goes by subzero.” Tony flashed a photo of the man out of costume. “As you saw, he has freaky Elsa powers.”

Oscar felt the familiar feeling of fear creeping up on him, raising goosebumps along his arms despite the heated suit. “And… you want me to take care of this? Don’t you think this is more of an avengers level threat? What does this guy even want anyway?” He stuttered out the list of questions, looking at Tony like he was insane. “I mean, that guy can crush me in two seconds with one of those ice balls! And how was he even floating?”

Tony put a hand up to stop Oscar’s never-ending questions. “You can handle this, kid. I know you can. And as for your last question, I believe he can manipulate water, and was using that ability to help him float.”

Oscar’s brain couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing. “Walking on water? That like- that defies the laws of physics.”

“Oscar, there’s a wizard who can manipulate space and time. I don’t think physics means much these days.” Tony sighed.

“How can I fight a guy who defies the laws of physics? Man this would be a really good time to have someone on our side who’s made of fire or something.”

The look on Tony’s face was not even remotely amused. “Kid, you’ve fought a witch before. This should be a piece of cake.” Tony clapped him on the shoulder before exiting the room.

۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ

Oscar changed his outfit three times. A fact usually not paired with him. But tonight had him digging through his closet to find the perfect outfit, one that was the most flattering on him. He settled for a maroon t-shirt and a somewhat loose pair of jeans.

He figured everything out. He would show up first as himself, then after about half an hour, he would sneak off and change into his Spider-Man outfit. Had his nano-suit not need fixing, Oscar’s task of playing two roles would have been infinitely easier, but alas, he was left with his other suit, which he was to manually put on and take off.

Oscar dropped by to pick up Logan. They’d asked Fred if he wanted to come along too but he politely declined in favor of his games.

When Logan and Oscar arrived, the party was already very lively. Loud music reverberated around the big house, shaking the floor if you got too close to the large speakers.

Regretfully, they found a very drunk, and very energetic Lando when they neared the kitchen. He threw an arm around Oscar, his grip loose. “Hey! Oscar! I didn’t know you’d be here! Didn’t think this was your kind of crowd!” Lando shouted in Oscar’s ear, and he had to jerk his head away to spare his eardrums. “Not usually, but when Y/n invites you, you’d have to be insane not to say no.”

“Awe thanks!” You appeared from behind him, leaning up against the counter across from him. “I’m honored that you broke out of your comfort zone for me.” Your bottom lip was caught delicately between your teeth as you reached out to land a soft hit to his bicep. Alex came rushing into the kitchen, Carmen trailing right behind her. “Come on it’s our song!” Alex shouted, dragging you back to the living room, presumably to dance.

“Dude what the fuck!” Lando gasped. “She’s totally into you!” Had Lando not been drunk out of his mind, Oscar may have been subject to his jealousy. But for now, it was total excitement on Oscar’s behalf.

Oscar chuckled nervously. “I’m not so sure about that one.”

“If you don’t want her, then can you put a good word in for me?” Logan nudged Oscar’s shoulder with his.

Him and Logan managed to get away from Lando’s clingy self, and proceeded to spend the next thirty minutes making awkward small talk with their drunk classmates.

He grabbed Logan by the shoulder, leaning in close to his ear. “I’ll see you later, I’m gonna go… change.”

Thankfully, because of the chilly December air, there was no one outside. So Oscar’s task was a lot easier. He climbed onto the roof, and got to changing. At one point, while Oscar’s suit was half on, a couple came out of the house, and he had to quickly drop down to his stomach to avoid being seen.

Eventually, Oscar got the Spider-Man suit on, and dropped down right in front of the main door.

He let himself in, and immediately the atmosphere shifted. All eyes were on him, the chatter ceasing, though the music still blared. You came around the corner. “What’s everyone- Ah! You made it!” You cheered, the crowd making a perfect walkway for you to reach him. You stopped right in front of him to turn and face the party-goers. “Well, get back to partying! Don’t mind him.” And they miraculously did as you suggested, the loud chatter quickly resuming.

“Seems like heroes do get a day off after all.” Your mouth split in a smile, the party lights reflecting off your bubblegum pink lip gloss.

There was a Christmas tree in the entry room, and a certain ornament on it caught Oscar’s attention. He padded over to the tree and you followed. He held the ornament with delicate fingers, keeping it still handing from its branch and pointed to it. “Big fan of me?”

Your head was thrown back as you laughed. “The biggest. But my dad hates it. Tried to get rid of it completely.” Oscar frowned and your smile widened. “You know, your mask moves with your expressions. It doesn’t hide much.” His lips curved into a grin, and you clapped your hands together a single time. “ah that’s one I know well! You’re smiling.”

You grabbed hold of his risk with nimble fingers, the pressure of them light. “It’s too loud down here, how about we go somewhere quieter?” You gave him no room to answer, leading him up the stairs as soon as your words are out. Though Oscar would have agreed anyway, as he willingly follows you.

You reach the top of the steps and venture down a hallway to the very end. You extend an arm to the top of the doorframe, extracting a small key from the ledge. Unlocking the door, you led yourself and Oscar in the room before closing it behind you. “Sorry, I lock the doors cause I don’t want to clean up any… residue.” You explained, shivering at the mere thought.

Oscar assumed this was your bedroom. The lighting was dim. A single lamp lighting the whole room. But Oscar could still make out the posters of various artists hanging on the walls and the piles of books that lined your bookshelves. It was undeniably the room of a teenage girl.

You laid on the plush bed, pulling Oscar with you. He sat on the edge while you sat up against the headboard. “So how was your New Year’s Eve shift?” You smirked, though your mind couldn’t stop thinking about how he still had yet to pull away from your entwined hands.

“Did you bring me up here just so we could have a rooftop chat?” You chuckled at the way the eyes of his mask shifted as if he was lifting a brow at you. “Yes. I love our chats.”

“But it’s so close to midnight. Wouldn’t you want to be down there with everyone?” You shook your head. “Surely there’s someone down there you want to kiss at midnight.” Oscar gave a light tug on your hand. You smiled softly, now unable to meet his eyes, your gaze fixated on your hands. “No. There’s no one down there I want to kiss.” You were suddenly shy with your words, the confidence fading with the fantasies of kissing the one and only Spider-Man at midnight running through your mind.

“Oh?” Oscar quipped, and you looked up at him through you eyelashes. “What about you? Surely a superhero like you has someone special.” The tip of your finger tapped the back of his hand. Oscar shook his head. “No girlfriend.” He replied.

You acted shocked, though you already presumed as much. “Really? Color me surprised.”

You reached for the remote on the bedside table, and turned the channel onto the live stream of the ball drop.

“We are just one minute away from dropping into the new year, and…”

You tuned the television out, straightening up and sitting directly in front Oscar. His breath began to come in shallower waves.

“Ten!”

You reached up to his neck, fingers slipping under the fabric of the mask. Your fingers ghosted over the bare skin of his neck and shivers shot through the both of your bodies.

“Nine!”

When no protests came, you continued on.

“Eight!”

Oscar tried to talk himself out of this, to grab ahold of your hands and stop your movements.

“Seven!”

He couldn’t bring himself to stop you.

“Six!”

Your anticipation wanted to tear the thing off, but you wanted to give him a chance to pull out of this if he wanted to.

“Five!”

Oscar’s breathing ceased when the mask rode past his chin.

“Four!”

You searched the eyes of his mask for any micro expression that would alert you of discomfort. There was none.

“Three!”

Oscar finally grabbed hold of your wrist when the mask passed his lips. You got the message, letting go of the fabric and leaving it to rest on the bridge of his nose.

“Two!”

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his hand remaining cradling your cheek even after the hair was secure.

“One!”

By his hand on your cheek, he pulled you close.

“Happy New Year!”

He took on the responsibility of making the first move, closing the gap between you, capturing your lips with his.

There was a desire in the way you moved together that was unmatched to anything either of you have ever felt before.

Your hand slid up the front of his suit, stopping to rest on his chest. Wherever your hand went, Oscar’s body buzzed.

Greed drove Oscar’s movements as his hand slid to the small of your back, and drew you closer. The shock of the movement had you gasping into his mouth, “oscar,”

His eyes flew open, and he jumped away from you. He stood across the room, yanking his mask back down. “Wh- what did you say?” Oscar was breathless, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He was in total disbelief, swearing he must have heard you wrong.

You stared at him in shock. “I’m—fuck—I didn’t mean to do this now.” You hid your face in your hands, embarrassed and afraid for his reaction.

“What do you mean? How did you— who told you?” He tried to be demanding, but his mind was racing with ten different emotions at once. Elation, confusion, fear, anger.

Lifting your head, you met his eyes, shaking your head. “No one. I figured it out on my own.” Your eyes darted around the room, and he could tell you were scared. Hell, he could feel your fear, radiating off of you in profuse waves.

He took a deep breath. “Should’ve known you’d figure it out.” He drew the curtains closed and sat on the end of your bed. Slowly, he removed his mask. “What gave it away?” Oscar’s voice was low and airy, nearing the point of whispers. He couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes, rolling his mask between his fingers instead.

“It wasn’t one thing. More like a couple.” He stayed silent, allowing you to continue. “It started with that first day, when you got my purse back for me. Your voice was familiar but I couldn’t figure out who it belonged to.” You watched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. “All that fancy tech in that suit, but not enough room for a voice changer.” You tried to lighten the mood. It half worked, earning an airy chuckle from Oscar. “I’ll talk to Mr. Stark about that one.” He said.

You smiled and continued. “Then the next day at school, I connected your voices when I asked you that question in anatomy. And your face got red too, which tipped me off a little.” He nodded. “And then tonight really sealed it. When I noticed you’d disappeared then Spider-Man came along not much later.”

Oscars head hung low, his tongue darting out between his lips. “So…” he sighed. “Did you kiss me just ‘cause I’m spider-man then?” He reluctantly asked.

“What?” The accusation made you defensive. “No. No I- Oscar I like you for you. You’re funny, and smart, and an amazing person to be around. You make me happy.”

He finally met your gaze, searching your eyes for any sign of fibbing. Everything about them was genuine. Oscar shook his head. “You shouldn’t know. It can put you in a lot of danger.”

You shrugged. “Well you can’t change that now.” A half-hearted chuckle left your lips.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, he hardly blinked either. You scooted closer to him, not quite touching him yet. “You okay?”

Oscar made a feeble attempt at nodding. “This just gets scarier with every person who finds out, I guess.” He muttered.

Then you decided to take a risk, reaching around his neck to give him a hug from the side. It wasn’t tight or anything, just a gentle, physical reminder that you weren’t going anywhere. You didn’t spend three weeks freezing on a rooftop every night on your break for nothing.

A hesitant hand of Oscar’s raised slowly, and stopped to rest around your wrist. The two of you sat like that for approximately fifteen minutes before you spoke up, “I think I should probably get back to the party. Make sure nothing breaks.” You slowly peeled yourself away, Oscar saying nothing but giving you a soft smile and a small nod.

When you tried to open the door, it snapped shut. Looking up, there was a web sticking to both the door and the frame. Your gaze found Oscar, who was now standing and had a sly grin on his face.

Another web was shot, this one landing on your wrist. Yanking his arm roughly, you came stumbling toward him, crashing into his chest. “Quite the romantic.” You laughed.

Oscar dipped his head, taking the lead once again to connect your lips. He wasn’t so greedy this time, he was delicate. He took his time, holding you as if you were made of glass. His touch had you like putty in his hands, subject to his control when he started to direct the both of you back to the bed.

When the back of your legs hit the mattress, you pulled away from him with a hum. “I should really get back.” The way he looked at you was so dizzying, you couldn’t even meet his gaze. “Yeah, yeah.” He nodded, his words airy as he tried to catch his breath.

He plucked the mask from the bed, letting his smile grow when his back was to you. Mask slipped over his head and tucked into place, he followed you out of the door.

Halfway down the staircase, a photo caught his eye and he paused. “Who’s this?” He asked, knowing full well who it was, he did his best to hide his nerves.

“Oh, that’s my dad.” You waved a hand through the air. “He’s some sort of weather scientist. I think you two would really get along.” You smiled.

Oscar was sure that wouldn’t be the case, as he was staring at a picture of none other than Ryder West.

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝙥𝙪𝙨𝙨𝙮 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥, 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙉𝙮𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙡

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. cockwarming your husband after work

wc . around 612

tags . nanami kento. nanami x reader. nanamikentoxreader smut. all characters are above 18 years old. alternative au. non curse au. consented. sleepy nanami.18+ mdni!

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Kento Nanami is a man of routine. Every day he gives you a kiss on the cheek and you send him off to work with his lunch. Every day he deals with Gojo showing up at his workplace and bothering him nonstop. Every day he tells Majorie that the printer location has not moved in the last 20 years and it’s the same place it’s always been. And every day he clocks out at 6. Not a minute later. He loves it though. He loves the thoughtfulness of the lunches you prepare him. He loves the sweet messages you leave during the day, asking him how he’s holding up. He loves the drive home from work, excited to see you again. He loves it when you pull him into the house the second his car parks in the driveway and you start telling him all about your day. He loves how the two of you greet each other again, more calmly with kisses. He loves the dinner the two of you have. He loves the way his cock fits snuggly in your slippery pussy as the two of you watch TV. You were being needy. Incessant. Uncompliant. You just had to get stuffed full by him, it’s the feeling you were craving. So now here the two of you are, watching a poorly made sitcom as he nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck. Perched atop his lap and sunken down onto his thick cock, warming it.

“Stop moving s’much. You said we didn’t have to do anything, just sit like this.” He complains, his words smushing together and coming out as a drag.

“We are just sitting like this.” You inform him, wrapping his arms around you as you attempt to focus on the story line of the show. This is something you’d planned out. You knew what you were doing when you started this. You knew he wouldn’t say no to this. And you also knew that one movement too many would get him to want to fuck you. It was all a part of your plan, which he has now caught unto.

“For now, till you start wiggling then that’ll make me wanna come and then I’ll have to move which is what I don’t want to do. I feel sleepy.” He murmurs, taking slow and long blinks, attempting to keep himself awake. He nuzzles his head in the crook of his, closing his eyes.

“Aww my pussy’s putting you to sleep.” You coo, taking a finger and playing flicking his lips. “I don’t know if I should be offended.”

“You should just stay still.” You can feel his voice through your body.

“How about,” you begin, swivelling slightly to get a better look at his face, “you just sit and I’ll do the moving, gets the job done. It’s a win win situation.”

“Not a chance. You’ll quit soon and then you’ll start whining that you’re too tired to carry on and finish the job you started. Then I’ll have to muster up energy to move, which I do not have. So until further notice, we’re staying like this.”

“For a man who’s oh so tied he is talking quite a lot.” You huff, pinching his nose, instead, he attempts to swat your hand away.

He blinks slowly and both of you watch TV. Then his hands start rubbing u everywhere and slowly. Then he starts kissing your jaw and the side of your face. “Good you make me feel good though.” More kissing and stuff then he’s like “Who am I kidding?” And he stands up places your back on the couch and fucks you.

[your-hockey-mom]

Being a passenger princess with Quinn?

Warning: slight daddy dom/bratty princess vibes with this one. 🤭

"Are you sure you have everything you need?" 

"Yep!" You replied confidently, climbing into your seat amongst your collection of travel essentials. 

"Are you sure?" He questioned, an eyebrow slightly raised, voice teasing. The two of you were making a day trip North just to get out of the city for the day, but even thought it was just a minor road trip, one might think you were going for a sixteen hour adventure.

You giggled, fastening your seatbelt. "Mhm! I'm ready!" You had a pillow and blanket stuffed between the dashboard and your legs, a tote full of snacks on the floorboard, your Switch, and your pink tumbler wedged into the center console's cup holder. Quinn, on the other hand, was content with a bottle of water and his phone to get him through the trip. You, on the other hand, were prepared for the both of you combined!

"Princess?"

Looking over at him, you would smile seeing him gaze at you like he was. What a blessing Quinn was putting up with you when you were being absolutely ridiculous. "I'm ready! Promise!"

There was nothing he could say, which is why he just shook his head as he laughed. "We're not stopping if you did."

"Aw! Meanie!" You whined, crossing your arms as you scrunched your nose.

"Are you pouting?" Quinn asked, starting the car, after seeing your little tantrum. "Is that part of the rules?"

Instantly, your face would go blank. He knew the rules? That wasn't fair! Now he had flipped your brat switch and you hadn't even left the parking garage... Did he know what he had done?

"You're not supposed to know the rules!"

Quinn's right hand would find your thigh, taking hold once it found its place. You loved his hands; delicate for a man but he knew how to use them, and his grip was something else entirely. 

"Do we need to go back upstairs?" His side-eye was dangerous and you would pretend you didn't see it. Your face would turn towards the window to avoid having to hide your little grin. 

"Princess? Words."

"No," you'd answer immediately, the smile betraying your words making Quinn laugh himself. 

"Good girl," he'd say with another squeeze to your leg before finally putting the car in drive. 

- - - 

About an hour into the drive, you'd make yourself comfy with your blanket and pillow as you settled in for a nap. You had left just after sunrise and the soft purr of the vehicle on the roadway was making you sleepy. 

"Naptime?" Quinn asked, seeing you move about in your seat. 

"Mhm!' You would silently ask for his hand once you were settled in. He'd oblige you, later bringing the back of your hand to his lips. 

"Nap-nap, princess."

"Nap-nap," you would yawn, drifting into peaceful sleep quite quickly, the heated seat acting like a heating pad against your back. No dreams would find you as you rested, and it would be the rattling of the rumble strips on the freeway that would violently pull you from your slumber later on. 

"What's...what's going on?" You asked, sitting up from your slightly reclined position. Quinn took his hand back to carefully guide the car to the shoulder of the road. By now, rain was streaking down the windows when you came to a stop.

"It's just a flat tire, baby. It's okay," he said softly, so to not frighten you. He'd apply the hazard lights and check his driver-side mirror before readying himself to get out. 

"You're going out to fix it?" 

"Of course, it shouldn't take but a few minutes. Stay inside, okay?"

You nodded as he leaned forward to give you a reassuring kiss. "Be careful!"

He smiled, "I will be."

After retrieving the spare tire from the back hatch, Quinn rolled it to the passenger front and worked to position the jack in the right spot. You felt so guilty watching him get soaked, but he had told you to stay inside, so all you could do now was watch and wait. After several long minutes, he'd lower the car and return to the back of the vehicle, placing the blown-out tire where the spare had been. Quickly, you'd take your blanket and drape it over his seat before he made it back inside. His hair was almost completely drenched, droplets of water hanging on to the numerous wild curls down over his eyes. His t-shirt was equally as wet, clinging to his muscles like it had been painted on. You couldn't help but stare for a moment before reaching over to pull the blanket over his cold shoulders. 

"Are you okay?" You'd whimper, seeing him this way.

"I'm fine, princess, thank you." He tried to smile, but you could tell he was miserable. Two semi-trailers passed the two of you in quick succession, having been unable to get into the passing lane due to the traffic. The shaking of your car from their high rate of speed scared you, Quinn seeing it on your face.

"We're okay," he reassured, pulling his fingers through his hair to fix it. "Just have to let this string of cars go by first." His eyes were locked on the rearview mirror, flashers still blinking.

Frantically, you'd nod, brows pulled inward. Your heart had been racing since Quinn had left to change the tire, and you were happy he was safe back inside with you. Once he merged back into the flow of freeway traffic, he'd trade the hazard lights for a turn signal. 

"See, all good," he'd say, asking for your hand this time. You'd take his with both of yours as it rested in your lap. 

"Your hand is cold."

"I'm okay, princess. No pouting."

His playfully teasing would set your mood back to content and calm, and you would take to playing with his fingers to pass the time. 

"It's still cold," you fuss. 

He slips his hand from yours to find its place between your thighs, "Better," he grins.

"Okay, good!' 

"Thank you for your blanket, princess. You didn't have to do that."

"I know! But I wanted you to be warm!"

Quinn's fingers tightened around your leg, "You're a good girl, sweetheart. I'll reward you later."

[franike]

COLD LOVE

Thanos x reader

Authors note: I love him sm there is not enough fics about him, also sorry about my english •+• ALSO i added a character I hope yall don’t mind🙏 THIS FIC WILL HAVE MORE PARTS

It was just a normal day. You were taking the subway home after finishing your day at college. It was hard to pay for all college expenses and you already worked two jobs. As thoughts ran through your head someone approached you.

“Wanna play a game?” It was a strange man - he was tall, had short black hair and also wore a neat suit.

“Uh sure why not”

The game was called ddakaji. You get a piece of folded paper and another one is placed on the floor. The goal is to throw your piece of paper and flip the one on the floor to the other side. You played a few rounds and won every single one.

“Congratulations” The strange man told you as he handed you a card. Before you could say anything else he left leaving you confused. You took a good look at the card. The front of the card had a circle, a triangle and a square drawn on it and the back of it had a number. You looked at your phone for a second before calling the number from the back of the card.

“To play the game state your name and date of birth”

…

You were sitting in your apartment and thinking. What did I just sign up myself for….but i need the money. The pickup date is five days from now on. You looked at the picture on your table. It was a picture of you and your ex that disappeared one day, well not really but he disappeared for you. You still saw him on social media but that’s about it because one day he just said he can’t be with you anymore and left. What an asshole…but you still cared about him just a tiny bit. Perhaps if he died you would be a bit sad.

…First day at squid game…

You woke up at a bed in a big room. There were about 400 other beds and about 400 other people. What is this… You thought as you looked around when all of a sudden someone called out your name. You looked back and saw your friend, Claire.

“CLAIRE what are you doing here?”

“Ah i got myself into a debt..” Claire explained while uncomfortably touching the back of her neck. You didn’t mind however, you were also in a debt just for school, not for…. Anyways soon some guards came to the front and started explaining how this works. All of a sudden some people started complaining about literally everything.

“What about my shoes huh? They’re limited edition!”

Oh no…Its him. Its Thanos. Your ex. What the hell was he doing in here? Did he not see you? What a pain…Soon the first game started, it was green light red light. Pretty easy. That was until someone got shot in front of you because they moved at red light. You started to panic. It soon turned into green light but you were frozen. You felt like you were gonna faint and as soon as it was red light your knees gave out. However someone stood in front of you so you wouldn’t get seen. It was green light again and the person who previously stood in front of you took you by the forearm and forced you to run with them. You turned to look at the person and it was him. Thanos. Again.

“You really need to be more careful”

“Shut up freak”

He just smirked at you and continued the game. How unfortunate that you ended up in the same situation as him. Soon the game was over. Thanos approached you and started to talk to you.

“So why are you here?”

“I’m not gonna tell you”

“Wow calm down ice queen, it was just a question.”

How annoying can a person be. Even after you gave him the coldest glare you could he just simply smiled at you.

“So you’re just going to pretend that you didn’t leave me like some trash huh?”

To your surprise he stopped smiling, but only for a second before he was back to his usual self. He tried to wrap his arm around your shoulders but you pushed him away. The audacity of this man. You started walking away and he started to yell something at you.

“This isn’t over Y/N! You can’t run away from me so easily!” He started to laugh and went back to some guy. This is going to be long six days….

TO BE CONTINUED….

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

still fresh l Joel Miller

Summary: another expedition in search of supplies, this time with company

Warnings:  fluff, maybe a little bit of jealousy, two infected, a few shots, generally boring

A/N: I'm trying to use my days off. sorry if I'm boring.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

"You should be more careful."

Shane winced as you pressed the alcohol pad to the palm of his hand. The large cut had stopped bleeding, but it still needed a bandage.

"You have very delicate hands." he murmured, smiling at you.

"Thank you." you reached into your backpack for a bandage. "Maybe we can do without stitches."

"I think I could survive if you did it."

Someone cleared his throat loudly and you both raised your heads. Joel stood over you with a rifle slung over his back, looking around the area.

"We should go now." he mumbled, frowning.

"I'm almost done." you replied, tying a bandage on Shane's hand.

Everything was still fresh. Not only Shane's wound, but you and Joel as well. 

It had only been a few days and you had already gone on patrol together. You had the impression that you were getting along better than before, but when Tommy asked Walsh to accompany you to check out buildings outside your normal area, you saw Joel's face darken.

Shane walked ahead and now he was directing you to the indicated location. The area was peaceful and the sun was pleasantly warming.

"I don't like it when he looks at you that way."

You turned around and looked at Joel walking next to you.

"And how does he look?"

"Oh, don't pretend you don't see." he sneered, raising his eyebrows. "I probably looked the same way."

"You're not looking anymore?"

"That's not- That's not what I mean." Joel snorted and you giggled.

Your fingers found his, much larger than yours, and intertwined. Everything was still fresh. Even though you had known each other for a long time, you had the impression that you were learning each other all over again.

It wasn't just about sleeping in the same bed, because that seemed almost natural to you, but about being together on a completely new, emotional level.

Joel felt like he was learning everything all over again, he had the feeling that you saw his helplessness and it scared him, but your presence was soothing. 

And God, he loved your closeness. Not just in bed, when you were lying close, or when you made love, savoring each other's bodies, but also in everyday activities. Just coming home and thinking that someone was waiting for him - he missed it.

You rummaged through cabinets and drawers, looking for something valuable, something that could be useful at the clinic in Jackson.

"I've got some bandages."

Shane threw you a bundle, and you quickly stuffed it into your bag.

"Needles would be good. Or syringes." You mumbled, opening another drawer. "Or some antibiotics. I'll take anything."

Shane peered into one of the drawers. "Dead mouse?"

"No thanks." You laughed. "But I appreciate the effort. Where's Joel?"

"They're checking the room in the back."

You nodded and looked around at the empty cabinets. You didn't find much, but you didn't want to give up so easily.

"I think I saw a sign for the storage room." You said.

"Yeah, I passed it. Do you want to go there?"

"Maybe we'll find something."

The pharmacy building you entered was quiet and peaceful. Too quiet and too peaceful. Years of experience told you that if nothing bad was waiting for you in the first room, it was definitely lurking in the last. 

You adjusted your grip on your gun and followed Shane. You could count on him. Joel knew you were safe with this man and no matter what he said or think about Shane, he couldn't deny it - Walsh knew what he was doing.

The heavy door creaked but opened smoothly. Dim light shone through the windows placed high under the ceiling, the shelves were already cleared out, but there were still many packages lying on the ground.

"What a fucking mess." he muttered, pushing a container with his shoe. "Ready for a shopping spree, sweetie?"

You smirked and entered the first aisle. After a few minutes, you already had some antibiotics and penicillin, gauze and a few more bandages in your hands.

"Painkillers!" Shane threw a few boxes your way.

Your bag was slowly filling up. You stood up and adjusted it on your shoulder, then glanced at another door in the back.

"Maybe they have medical equipment there." You said, Shane looked at you from behind the shelves.

"Be careful."

You touched the cold doorknob and gently pushed the door. The room was dark, there were no windows and you could barely see anything inside.

"And?"

"I think it's..."

A sharp screech almost paralyzed you. The silhouette of an infected man appeared from the darkness. You raised your gun, but when you took a step back you slipped on some empty packages and fell hard to the ground.

"Shit!"

A second monster appeared, they must have been hiding in the warehouse for a long time. You crawled as fast as you could, trying to reach your weapon.

"Hey, asshole!" Shane's scream distracted them and they stopped for a moment.

You noticed your gun lying under the cabinet and quickly crawled there. The first shot was fired and something fell to the ground with a thud.

"What the fuck!?!"

"Joel!"

Attracted by the noise, he ran into the warehouse and aimed at one of the infected. The shot was accurate and the creature's head splattered on the wall behind him.

Joel immediately looked at you and then at Shane, who was breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

You nodded. Shane nodded as well, and then carefully entered the room the infected had come from.

"You should have waited for me." Joel said quietly, approaching you.

"They surprised me, but I'm fine. Look." You opened your bag. "Look how much I found."

"If you had paid for this with your life, it would have been worthless."

"I'm fine, really." You tried to smile, but it didn't seem to convince Joel because he just shook his head in helplessness.

That was Miller - caring and protective to the extreme. Ellie would sometimes remind him of that, but that was how he showed his feelings towards others. He knew you would handle it, but he preferred to keep an eye on you. Especially now, when it was all so fresh.

"Sweetheart?" Shane's call reached you from the dark room, and you immediately noticed the look Joel gave you - "Sweetheart?!"

"Do you have anything?" you asked, ignoring Joel's face.

"Yeah, something you really want."

When Shane brought out the containers with syringes and needles to you, you almost jumped for joy. It turned out that the two infected were good at deterring other snoopers from entering this part of the building, and you only gained from it. 

The bag you were carrying was full, and soon you put some of your things in Shane and Joel's backpacks too.

All of you wanted to get back to Jackson before nightfall so you just ate something in a hurry and set off. 

Joel looked at you as you walked ahead. What you found clearly improved your mood and despite your tiredness you walked briskly forward. He didn't even notice when Walsh caught up with him.

"That was a good day," he said.

Joel nodded "Yeah, it was."

They took a few steps in silence. Finally Shane cleared his throat.

"Listen, I like her." he said pointing at you walking in front of them "She's a great chick, if you know what I mean."

Joel knew, he knew perfectly well. However, he wasn't sure what Shane was getting at and decided not to say anything until he revealed all his cards.

"I know you're living together again so I assume you and her..."

"Mhmm." Joel grunted.

"You're lucky, you know that?" the man smiled "No offense, but if I didn't know she was totally into you, I wouldn't hesitate to steal her from you."

Joel still didn't say anything. His gaze went to you, you were adjusting the strap of the bag you had slung across your body.

"You have nothing to worry about, Miller. She's safe with me. I'm keeping an eye on her because I like her, that's all."

Joel cleared his throat. "Thanks for today." he finally said "If you weren't with her..."

Shane nodded and smiled "But I was, so don't think about it that much."

It was already late when you reached Jackson. You ate a late dinner at Tipsy Bison and feeling the whole past day on your shoulders, you went back to your place.

"I need a shower." you mumbled, taking off your jacket and shoes "Ellie's probably staying at her friend's again, huh?"

"Yeah, looks like it." Joel replied and before you could escape him he wrapped his arms around your waist and snuggled into your back.

You sighed quietly and reached back to run your fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry..." you said quietly as warm lips brushed your neck "I'll be more careful next time."

"I know." he whispered in your ear, turned you around and put his forehead against yours "Damn, I've wanted to kiss you all day..."

"Oh, that's long!" you chuckled.

"Mhm. Too long."

You took his face in your hands. His beard tickled your skin pleasantly, his strong body pressed against yours. Maybe it was all still fresh, but you felt it was right.

You kissed his soft lips. You missed this too, all day.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi

[seokmn]

pairing: joshua x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1.2k words

warnings: mentions of drinking, brief moment of shirtless joshua, suggestive moment if you squint reaaally hard

joshua took a sip of his drink and pointed his index finger at you, “what do you think of me? no sugarcoating”. you also took a sip of your drink and gave him a small nod before speaking, “i think youre cool”

“seriously? cool? just ‘cool’?”

you shrugged your shoulders, “what else do you want me to say?”. joshua looked away and pouted, his voice was as quiet as a whisper, “i thought you were going to say a little bit more”

you rolled your eyes, “i think youre really polite and kind with people. hm… i dont like the way you always find a new song to obsess with and sing the same verse for days every single time, but at the same time, i love your voice, it gives people comfort. your voice is like a hug after a stressful day.” you took a long sip of your drink before continuing, “i also like when you smile and how your eyes disappear. let’s see… i like when you always try to reassure me that everythings fine when i mess something up and when you look at me when im looking at you and your dimples come out. oh and-“

“i think thats enough” joshua cut you off and chuckled. he shook his head slightly, finding funny how you started yapping about the things you like about him. that being a sign that you were starting to get tipsy. “if you keep going ill think i like me or something”

“okay, my turn now. look at me” you leaned forward, your chest glued to the table as you looked at joshua’s face intensely. joshua smiled a bit and leaned forward as well, looking at you. “‘kay, im looking”

“do you see someone looking back at you or do you see someone thats in love with you?” you asked, eyes narrowing as you tried to analyze his reaction. on the other side, joshua’s smile died and he suddenly got shy. he drank all of his drink in one sip and rubbed the back of his neck. “so… youre in love with me?”

you just nodded with an affiliative smile on your face, “yes. very much so”

joshua could feel his cheeks heating up. he stood up and walked towards you, he placed his hand on your shoulder and looked down at you, “im afraid youre getting drunk so i guess its time for us to leave, i dont want to keep saying things that you might regret about tomorrow.”

“but its your birthday and i just confessed to you… dont you feel the same?”

“maybe…” he chuckled, “ill only admit it when you tell me about your feelings while being sober. now lets go, ill take care of you”

you huffed, “fiiiine… but you know, that is so not fair!”

“its my birthday, so its fair if i say so and im telling you thats soo fair”

he paid for the drinks and food you two consumed and went back to his place with you. he let you sleep on his bed while he slept on the couch.

you could hear the birds chirping and feel the sun on your face. you slowly sat up, frowned and placed your hand on your head, feeling it hurt. “gosh…” you looked around and noticed the obvious, that wasnt your bedroom. panic was slowly starting to increase, but it died as soon as you heard a voice singing in the background. you knew that sweet voice too well. you were at joshua’s home.

you walked towards the voice and you found him shirtless and cooking. you blushed a little and cleared your throat to make your presence known, he turned around and looked at you, giving a smile that warmed your heart. “good morning, did you sleep well?”

“morning.. yea, i slept very well, but now my head is killing me” he chuckled, “that wont be a problem anymore” he said as he placed a bowl of hangover soup in front of you. you mumbled a thank you and started eating it, enjoying the taste.

“is it good?”

“ah, yes. its really good! you know what else would be good?” joshua raised his eyebrow, waiting for you to tell him. “a shirt”

the man laughed and smirked, “cmon, i know you love it. but okay, ill put on a shirt”. you watched him put on a white shirt, but you were with a puzzled expression on your face, why would he say that? was he only being extra or did you say something last night? “what you mean? i dont love it!”

“oh, so you dont remember about last night?” he had a cocky smile on his lips and your eyes widened. last night? what did you do or say last night? you looked at him with a blank expression for a few seconds, trying to process everything. once you thought you got it, you immediately gasped and placed your arms on your chest and on your lap, as if you were trying to hide your body.

joshua’s eyes widened as well and he shook his head, completely in panic. “no! its not what youre thinking!! i even slept on the couch!” he said as he pointed at the couch with some pillows and a blanket. you looked at the couch and let out a deep breath you didnt know you were holding.

“then why would you say such a thing?!” you looked at the soup and muttered while mixing it with the spoon, “saying like we did something…”

“so you dont remember what you asked me last night? whoa… you really cant drink alcohol”

“what i asked you…?” you tried your best to remember about the night before. a few memories started to come together and your jaw started to slowly drop as you remembered the stupid answers you gave to his questions and the even more stupid question you asked him. you hid your mouth with your hand and looked at joshua in complete shock.

“looks like someone remembers now” he said with a smirk on his face, crossing his arms as he leaned on the kitchen counter. “i-uh…”

“was it true or just drunk words?”

“why do you wanna know?” you raised your eyebrow. you were getting defensive because you didnt know what to answer. would he dump you? would your friendship with him be ruined because of your feelings?

joshua tilted his head and smiled gently, “i think i deserve to know, dont i?”. you scoffed while looking away before looking back at you, “maybe it was true, so what? huh? its not like im gonna chase you or try to make you fall in love with me or some shit like that!”

he just let out a calm sigh and took the bowl of soup away from you. “hey! if you dont feel the same just say it, you dont have to take my food away!”

“get your coat”

“woah-“ you scoffed, feeling offended, “youre kicking me out? is that it?”

“nope, im going to take you on a date. your feelings are reciprocated and as a late birthday gift we’ll be enjoying a really good time together. and who knows, maybe in three months you wont have to pretend to not like to see me shirtless anymore”

you rolled your eyes, not being able to hold back your smile. you grabbed your coat and ran to him, interlocking your arm with his. “that sounds good, i like it. and just to let you know, i never said i dont like to see you shirtless” he chuckled as he opened the front door, “i know. but its nice to tease you”

you playfully hit his arm and he laughed. “lets go?”

“lets go.”

[galactic-magick]

Rest of My Life: Viktor x Reader

Summary: Reader and Viktor have their wedding and first time together. Takes place right after my last fic Life Changes.

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: SMUT. fem!reader

Author’s Notes: Second half of this fic is smut, it starts and ends at the *** in case anyone only wants to read the first half. Reader is a virgin in this and is implied to be demisexual/somewhere on the ace spectrum, but I don’t think you have to be that necessarily to enjoy the story. I just wanted to write it from that perspective since I’m demisexual myself. I went back and forth a lot deciding if Viktor should be a virgin too, but I was convinced by the “this isn’t my bedroom” line and his freaky moves with Jayce in S2 that he probably has at least some experience. So he’s gonna talk reader through it lmao. Happy reading :)

-

Your roommates are unsurprisingly still awake when you return home, reading your face instantly.

“What happened?” Eli asks. “Are Viktor and that other guy okay?”

Your shocked expression fades into a smile and you crash on the couch with them, giggling uncontrollably.

“Everyone’s fine. They figured it out, and now Viktor is going to be a partner in the company.”

“Wow.” Chanthou says, eyebrows raised.

“Mhmm. And then he asked me to marry him. Tomorrow.”

A beat of silence.

“What?!” Eli exclaims. “He didn’t tell us he was doing it today!”

Chanthou shrugs, “Well, he did ask for our blessing months ago. He didn’t really say when.”

“He asked you guys for your blessing? That’s so sweet.”

“Of course he did. I would’ve beat his ass if he didn’t.” Eli chuckles. “Sorry, did I even say congratulations?”

“No, but it was implied,” you laugh.

-

The next twenty-four hours are a whirlwind. As much as you’ve said you don’t mind keeping things simple, your friends insist on treating you at least a little bit, helping you with your hair, makeup, and nails. You pick out something nice to wear, having a blast while they get you ready. You’re going to miss living with them dearly.

If you’re honest, they’re the main reason you haven’t suggested moving in with Viktor sooner. As much as you love him, your friends have been so near and dear to your life for years now. Leaving them—even just to a different apartment a few blocks away—feels like a stab in the chest. Especially with everything moving so fast. You’re about to be the wife of Piltover’s finest scientist, after all.

Yet, there’s no doubt in your mind that this is the right thing—long overdue truthfully. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted. You know he’ll love you how you deserve, and any fear and uncertainty about the future seems quieter when you’re around him. You love everything about him inside and out, and you can’t believe he’ll be yours.

Your roommates have made you look beautiful, enhancing all your best features and using all your best colors. You grin at your reflection.

“I should probably go find my future husband, hmm?”

-

“I know it’s short notice, but—“

“Of course I will, Viktor!” Jayce hugs him. “I will be the best best man.”

Viktor isn’t used to receiving physical affection from anyone other than you, but he’s not necessarily opposed to it. Jayce is the reason for everything that’s about to happen, everything that Hextech is going to change. Viktor has bonded with him so quickly, it only seemed natural that he would be involved in this big day.

“So um, what is a best man supposed to do?” Jayce asks.

“I’m...not sure.”

“I could write a speech?”

“No,” Viktor shakes his head and smirks. “You’ll talk too long.”

“What else is there to do then? I’ve never been to a wedding before.”

“Hm. Me neither.”

Suddenly Viktor realizes that planning a wedding in the span of a day is not, in fact, easy. He has no idea where he even wants the ceremony, or how to make it official and legal. His whims got the best of him, it seems.

“I could forge some rings?” Jayce suggests.

“Ah, yes. Good idea.” Viktor nods.

Jayce scurries away, and Viktor’s face falls to his hands. Is this too crazy? He knows nothing about weddings, and very little about marriage itself, for that matter. He knows he wants it—that much is clear—but the only example he grew up with was his parents, and they’ve been gone for quite some time.

If only he could get their advice now. They would’ve loved you, he’s sure of it.

He decides the best use of his time at the moment is to get his apartment ready, assuming you’ll want to come home with him tonight. He wants to make everything special for you, wants to make everything perfect.

He stops by some shops on his way back, buying way more than he should safely carry. He then gets to neatening up his space as best he can, covering the bed with fresh blankets and scattering flowers on the floor. He sets up some candles in your favorite scents on the tables and windowsills, nearly lighting them out of habit. He then assesses his work, making adjustments to the set up and gathering anything else he can think of. He’s not the most natural romantic, but he certainly gives his all when it comes to you.

While he’s still at home, he changes into something nicer and smooths out his hair. He doesn’t own a mirror, but it looks fine enough from his vague reflection in the window on his way back out. His only mission now is to find out how to officially marry you.

-

You and your friends run into Jayce as you’re heading towards the Academy, chuckling a bit as he swiftly hides something behind his back.

“Jayce?” you step up to him, raising your brows. “Have you seen my fiance recently?”

“Everything’s under control!” he blurts out.

“You lost him, didn’t you?”

“No! We just...don’t really know how to do a wedding. Last I saw him he said something about asking Heimerdinger to officiate. We’re going to meet back in the lab, I think.”

“Heimerdinger, huh? And what’s that behind you?”

“Nothing.” he dodges your attempts to look around him. “It’s a surprise!”

“Alright, alright. Can we come with you back to the lab?”

He nods, moving his hands quickly in front of him as he turns around to lead you.

“This is the genius inventor Viktor’s partnering with?” Eli jests.

“Viktor says he’s pretty brilliant.” you laugh.

-

Viktor manages to successfully recruit Heimerdinger to officiate, after no less than a twenty-minute reprimand of disappointment that Viktor disobeyed him. As proud as he is of Viktor’s achievements, and how impressed he is that Hextech might actually work, he’s still a bit burned that Viktor went behind his back with it. After he gets his frustrations out of his system, though, he’s quite ecstatic that Viktor is marrying you.

It’s not long before you show up with Jayce and your friends, and Viktor practically vaults himself to you on his cane, eyes scanning you adoringly.

“You’re beautiful.” he smiles, kissing your cheek. “Are you ready?”

“Of course I am.” you find comfort in his gaze, heart thundering in your chest.

Heimerdinger climbs on top of a nearby table, glancing at a pad of notes.

“Now, I haven’t done one of these in nearly a hundred years, so forgive me.” Heimerdinger clears his throat. “Viktor, my boy, do you intend to take Y/N as your wife?”

Viktor takes your hands and squeezes them, “I do.”

“And do you promise to love, honor, respect, and be faithful to her until death?”

“I do.”

Heimerdinger asks the same to you, and you feel Jayce and your friends watching you excitedly as you answer. You can’t believe this is really happening. So much has occurred in so little time, and your lives are about to change even more with the new Hextech discoveries.

You get lost in Viktor’s eyes as Heimerdinger has you both repeat a few other things, then can’t help but laugh when he starts fumbling with some papers for both of you to sign. It’s quite funny, watching such a highly respected councilor struggle with something so seemingly simple as a wedding. You and Viktor sign the marriage license as he says, exchange the beautiful customized rings Jayce made, and Heimerdinger pronounces you officially married.

Viktor doesn’t waste a moment pulling you in by the waist and crashing his lips to yours, the intensity catching you off guard. He’s not one for PDA, but you suppose his own wedding is an exception. You drink him in happily, the mini audience cheering in the background.

The celebration continues for a while afterwards, your friends breaking out some champagne and Jayce insisting on dancing. You sit on Viktor’s lap, twirling his hair absentmindedly as you watch the party surrounding you. It’s simple, just like you wanted.

Viktor’s eyes are locked on your features, studying your face as if he hasn’t already memorized it a million times. He wants you in every way possible, forever and ever until his last breath. His mind, heart, and soul are mated with yours, intertwined so intricately now that you are an inseparable part of his being. Never had he imagined he would experience a love like this.

But there’s still one way he hasn’t yet expressed his love for you, out of respect for your fears and slower attractions. You’ve verbalized your sexual anxieties from having no prior experience, and your need to have a strong comfortability and bond with someone before even considering such acts. Viktor’s never had a problem with waiting, and has made it very clear to you that there is no pressure on his part. He’s been open with you about how he had a couple experiences as a teenager before he moved to Piltover, but would gladly never do it again if that’s what you wanted. He married you for you, not your body.

Still, he aches for your touch every second of every day. He savors every kiss pressed against his lips. He’s reveled in every way you’ve allowed him to caress you, and dreams about all the ways you haven’t yet. He wants to kiss every inch of skin he hasn’t seen. Everyday he wants to bury his face where your pants dig into your soft stomach, where your top is cut dangerously close to your breasts, where your thighs rub together. The dress you’re wearing today makes the arousal impossibly worse, the way it hugs and flows around the curves he so desperately wants etched into his brain forever. He has never desired anyone in the universe more than you, and he’d be willing to wait an eternity if it meant he would one day have you every way he’s been wanting.

You’ve told him you’ll likely be ready someday soon, so is it selfish of him to hope today might be the day?

“Vik?” you say, giggling as you wave a hand in front of his face. “Losing yourself in thought already?”

“I suppose so,” he smirks, giving you a quick kiss.

“Ready to go home?”

His eyebrow raises, looking back and forth between you and then your friends who have started some sort of weird drinking game with Jayce. The celebration isn’t quite winding down yet, but it’s common for the newlyweds to leave early, right?

Viktor gently slides you off his lap, grabbing his cane and standing up.

“I’d love to.”

***

-

He had forgotten about the decorations in his apartment bedroom when you both shuffle through the door, hearing you gasp and clap a hand to your mouth.

“Viktor...this is so beautiful.”

You pick up and drop a few of the flower petals, watching them flutter to the ground. Viktor grabs some matches and starts lighting the candles, and you flop down on the bed, rubbing your limbs against the soft blankets. You inhale the scents, a perfect level of ambiance filling the space.

“Vik?”

“Hmm?” he throws away the used matches, returning to your side.

“Do you want to try it?” you look up at him, nerves starting to take over you.

He kisses your forehead, wrapping a comforting arm around you.

“Only if you’re ready, darling. We don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to.”

“No, no...I’m ready. I want to. I really want to. I’ve felt it for a while now. I just...I’m terrified.”

Your lip quivers slightly, and your eyes roll at yourself. Why are you about to cry on your wedding night? This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

Viktor pulls you into him close, rubbing your back, “Talk to me, my love.”

“It’s so stupid...You’ve been so patient with me, you’ve never pushed me to do anything, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve been disappointing you by making you wait so long. And you’ve actually done stuff before, so you know what you’re missing I guess. What if I’m not good at it? What if we try it and it’s awful or you hate my body—or you unintentionally compare me to other people? What if you regret marrying me? Or what if it really hurts-”

“Sweetheart.” Viktor stops you. “Look at me.”

You do as he asks, still trying to hold back tears after your anxious rambling.

“How long have all those horrible thoughts been in your head?”

“Um. A long time…” you look away again, but Viktor takes your chin and turns you back to his gaze.

“Not a single one of those things are true, do you understand?” he holds your face like precious glass. “You are everything to me. Whether we have sex or not.”

“Okay.” you nod, successfully swallowing back a cry. “I...I really do want to.”

“We’ll go slow, alright? And we can stop whenever you want.” he waits for you to nod again, then lies back on the bed, pulling you on top of him. “But right now I just want you to kiss me.”

You smile, happily obliging. You straddle him, leaning down to capture his lips. He squeezes your thighs on either side of him, moaning when you deepen your kisses and run your hands down his chest. It’s so easy for him to lose himself in you, your touches overtaking his senses. He loves when you make out like this, your form pressed on top of him. He had to beg you to not hold back the first time it happened, insisting he likes your weight on him.

Viktor moves his fingers to twiddle with the hem of your dress, wanting so badly to pull it off of you. He’s never seen you fully naked, and he must admit it’s getting harder and harder to be patient when the outline of your figure looks so...majestic.

He guides your grip to his own shirt, helping you pull it off and sliding his fingers into your hair as you kiss down his neck and collarbone. To his surprise, you’ve always shown so much affection to his scrawny frame, never complaining about his sharp limbs when you cuddle or caress each other like this. He’s never understood any of your insecurities about your body, much preferring your soft and fluffy flesh over his own.

Once you’re satisfied with the amount of kisses you’ve pressed all over his torso, you cover his hands at the bottom of your dress with your own.

“You can take it off.” you tell him, taking a deep breath.

He does so, revealing nothing but your bra, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. Never has he ever wanted to see a pair of tits so badly.

It’s not difficult for you to read his mind, and before you can overthink it—you unhook it and throw it to the floor with the rest of your discarded garments.

Viktor doesn’t blush often, but you’ve never seen his cheeks get so red.

“Wow.” is all he can muster.

“You can touch them, if you want.” you chuckle at his reaction.

Permission is all he needed, his hands squeezing both of them, his thumbs brushing your nipples. A loud sigh escapes your lips, and Viktor decides right then and there that he will do anything to hear a glorious sound like that again.

Your body is a wonderfully pleasant array of textures for his hands to explore, from the raised skin of every stretch mark and scar to the dips and creases of your hips and waist. His touches roam across every inch of your exposed skin, cherishing the beauty he swears to never take for granted.

Your bare breasts press against his chest and he whines into your mouth, a pleasant tingling rushing through you at the noise. His lips then travel down your neck and shoulders, whispering “I love yous” between kisses, most coming out as mumbles against your flesh. Your replies follow suit, breathy and stringed with moans.

Somewhere in the process Viktor loses he pants, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear. You feel his arousal hardening, and your fingers eagerly pull at his waistband.

He stops you, grabbing your wrist.

“Not yet, my love. I want to prepare you properly first.” he kisses your palm. “Let me get on top, okay?”

You nod, adjusting your positions. He places some pillows for your hips and his knees, then runs a couple fingers in one teasing stroke across your clothed entrance.

“Please,” you groan, already missing his touch when his fingers pull away. “Take them off already.”

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss you, “I’m glad you’re excited, darling.”

He obliges your request and takes off your underwear, his fingers quickly returning to your now exposed entrance. He finds your clit, stimulating it with one finger and inserting another slowly.

“Let me know what feels good and what doesn’t, okay?” he says, studying your expressions closely. Even before you say anything, he changes his movements based on your reactions to him.

“It...feels a little weird. But I like it.” you assure him. “Especially when you—“

The stimulation starts to build, and your gasps cut off your own thoughts.

“When you do that.” you finish your sentence, catching your breath as he slows down his fingers.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to help you orgasm your first time, love. But I’ll certainly try.” Viktor continues pulsing a finger in and out of you, rubbing feather-light circles on your clit.

“It’s okay if you don’t.” you hum. “I know it takes some concentration and practice.”

“It’s a learning process—are you ready for a second?”

You nod, and he slowly enters another finger. You’re still super tense from your nerves, but it’s getting easier to relax and let the arousal take over.

“Fuck.” you exhale. “Your fingers feel good.”

A smirks stretches across his lips, and his long digits push farther into you.

“But I want more.” you continue. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” he slips his fingers out, ghostly touches moving up your body. “Oh sweetheart, you’re so perfect.”

You giggle at his distraction, “Yes, Vik, I’m sure. Please.”

He could never say no to such eager eyes and pouting lips, so he slips off his boxers and readjusts himself above you.

“Holy shit, Vik.”

“Second thoughts?”

“No, just...is that really going to fit inside me?” your eyebrows raise and he laughs.

“You can take me, darling. We’ll go very slow, alright?”

You nod, and he lines himself up. He presses the tip in slowly, holding your hands as he goes further. You squeeze them tight, taking deep breaths until he stops halfway in.

“You’re doing so well, my love. How do you feel?”

“Mmm…” you sigh, trying to wrap your senses around the stretching and pressure you’re experiencing. It’s such an odd feeling, but it’s incredibly pleasurable.

“Are you ready for more?”

You nod, and he slowly pushes all the way in. He leans down to kiss you, giving you time to adjust to him. You dig your fingers into his back, closing the distance between your bodies, his cool skin sending shivers down your spine.

“I must admit,” he utters against your lips. “I will likely not last very long.”

Your foreheads press together and you giggle.

“I don’t care, Vik.”

He begins to thrust in and out gently, placing kisses and nibbles along your jaw. The sounds you make drive him crazy, making it extremely difficult for him to have any hope of holding back. The sensations are overwhelming for both of you, a symphony of moans and whines eliciting from your mouths.

You take his face in your hands, staring deep into his gorgeous golden eyes. You capture his lips once again, more passion brewing between you.

“I love you so much.” you say, breathless and full.

“I love you m—fuck, I’m—“ his orgasm washes over him, his movements losing their former smoothness. His cum floods your walls, his dick starting to soften as he pulls out. His nimble fingers return to your cunt, swirling in the juices and stimulating your clit once again.

“Vik, honey, it’s okay if I don’t finish…” your assurances fall on stubborn ears though, his touches quickly building back the pressure.

“Let me try.” he says, determined.

“Vik.” you sit up, legs still wide open around him. “We can try again tomorrow. I promise you’ve satisfied me for the night.”

You intertwine your fingers with his, admiring his flushed face and tousled hair.

“Did I make your first time special enough?” he asks, fiddling with your hands.

“Viktor, it was amazing. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

He smiles, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Shall we clean up, then?” he mumbles, pulling back to look at you.

“Perhaps.” you run a hand through his hair. “I did bring the soaps you always compliment the scent of…”

*** -

You use the bathroom and start a bath, filling it with the products you packed and Epsom salt. Viktor’s tub isn’t very big, but you both fit in it when he sits between your thighs. You wipe each other off and wash each other’s hair, occasionally placing kisses on wet skin.

“Can we move in the rest of your things tomorrow?” he asks.

“Probably.” you reply, rinsing the shampoo from his wavy locks. “You sure you’re ready to share your space?”

“Eh...it’s always been far too empty. I need some...flair.” he laughs.

“I can give you that.” you smile, already imagining all the ways you could decorate and bring life to the place.

After drying off and getting ready for bed, Viktor clears off the top blanket then slips under the covers with you, your limbs immediately encircling one another. He massages your back and shoulders, cuddling you close. His arms feel like home, a warmth in your heart spreading throughout your body.

“I love you so much, Viktor.” you say, looking into his eyes. “And not because of what you do for me or how you make me feel…I love you just because you’re you.”

Your fingers trace his jawline, then slither into his hair.

“I’m so lucky.”

His gaze becomes even softer, at a loss for words from the purity of your love. Nothing in any language could properly describe his own sentiments.

“I can’t wait to love you for the rest of my life.” he peppers kisses across your face, living for the way your nose scrunches. “Every.” —another kiss— “Day.”

You giggle, snuggling impossibly closer. He loves feeling your every breath, every twitch, every tiny movement.

He sighs, closing his eyes and silently thanking Janna for whatever winds brought him to you.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

A Misuse of Potions 2 - Invisibility

In which I write probably my most demented smut so far. Predator/prey. Buckle up, friends and enemies, cause that man gets REAL WEIRD in this one. Full-force Creachur Astarion.

On Ao3.

On the third day of Eleint, she comes to him. Her dark eyes are warm, her limbs loose, and he doesn’t even have to scent the air to know what’s going on between her legs.

“Would now be a good time?” she says.

Always, he wants to say, though that’s not always true. Sometimes, even now, the memories seep in and it’s all he can do not to shred his own skin with his claws.

But this is not one of those times. This is the third day of Eleint, his Eleanor has a glint to her eye, and they’ve discussed this subject at length.

Astarion snaps his book shut and lets it drop to the floor. Rolls to his feet to sweep her into his embrace and buries his face against her neck to breathe her in, slow and deep.

Warmth, life. Salt and clean.

Moon blood.

“There’s nothing I’d like more,” he says and means it. Can tell in her gaze she sees the truth of it.

They’ve planned for this. Extensively. His Eleanor does love her planning. She’s quite prepared.

He’s not even surprised when he follows her upstairs to their bedroom, and she pulls a pack from their wardrobe. Removes the items within and inventories them on the bed. He takes a small, velvet pouch she holds out, and his groin is already starting to tighten. From her scent, of course, and from what he knows this pouch will lead to.

She goes over The Plan again. They both need to be certain, after all. There’s not much on his end; neither of them expect much on his end once they start, save for her words “red light.” She’s used them before; by now they’re both comfortable with it and what comes after, even if it sometimes makes his guts squirm.

No pain follows it, though. Not ever. Not after red light, not after cub. Sometimes they resume, and sometimes they just…stop. Hold each other. Dress and move to the lounge. Sometimes she’ll get herself a bite to eat, and sometimes she’ll give him her wrist or her neck when he needs it.

She dressed carefully, this night, from an outfit she had folded in that pack. It’s cheap material. Far too flimsy for road travel, but it’s meant to be cheap, and he watches her slip the layers on and his cock begins to fill in earnest.

She does not wear her moon blood belt. She does not tuck rags into her trousers (her face flushes adorably as she slips nothing but a single pair of panties on, followed by said trousers).

He has to lean against the wall and keep his arms crossed. His own trousers become uncomfortable.

She notices that. Of course she does. Gives him a little smile, the minx.

“Ready?” she says.

He wants to push her to the floor and spread her legs and—

He steps away from the wall. “Very, my love.”

The teleportation spell is not his favorite, even if it is useful. For this, though, he swallows down his complaints (he’ll be swallowing down much more pleasant things tonight), and a moment later, they step onto soft grass.

It’s a lonely patch of woods. Or as lonely as any patch of untended woods can be. They’d scouted it some months back, when passing near the Bear’s newest little enclave. No one lives out here. No guards, no gaggles. No one to get the wrong idea or try to do something stupid and ruin the night for all involved.

There’s also no goblins or worgs or other worrisome beasts. Just the bunnies and other snacks.

The late summer heat clings to the air, but the wind already sweeps a soothing chill over his face. His Eleanor glances about, her poor, human ears straining, and looks to him.

“We’re all alone,” he says.

His fangs ache. The beds of his nails tingle as his claws threaten to sharpen. Alone out here, in the wilds, with her.

They look at each other for a long moment. He lets himself enjoy the way the silver moonlight—nearly full, lucky him—paints over her skin, sinks into her dark hair.

“You sure about your getup?” she says.

He’s wearing his home clothes, the ones he was loafing about it: a loose tunic tucked into his trousers. He hadn’t thought to change. Had only grabbed his city shoes while trying to adjust himself in his underthings.

He waves her off. “I can replace it.”

Gives her an appreciative sweep. She put on a light jacket and a pair of stays, as she would need the support. At least initially. But they’re the most basic pair she owns. Easy to mend. Or replace, should he get a little…rough.

Most of all, his gaze is drawn to the juncture of her thighs, and the small, dark patch just beginning to show itself.

He’s scenting the air, isn’t he.

He slips the velvet pouch from his pocket. It’s a small thing. Light. Holds only two, delicate golden ear cuffs, which spill into his palm as he tips it.

He slides the first one up, halfway between the lobe and the point. His Eleanor licks her lips like a degenerate. He’d had the initial idea for this outing, but she’d leapt on it, proposed all of these additions.

The other cuff pinches on his other ear. They’re rather plain, with only the hint of swirled knot work along the sides. But they warm his ears as he speaks the activation. The magic sinks into them and spreads like warm fingers (hers) over his ears.

Until the world muffles itself. The racing rodent hearts disappear. The thunderous pulse of his love fades to nothing. He flails in his mind a moment—not used to this, danger, if he can’t hear, if he’s trapped in silence again—

“Still okay?”

He catches her voice. He can focus on that. He’s deafened as an elf. As a vampire. But they tested these on her, and she notices no difference.

“You poor thing,” he says, because she has to live like this, in such a dim and dull world all the time.

She flips him off. Unfortunately for her, he’s close enough to snap at the offending finger. Slowly, of course. Gives her ample time to pull away and snort. Which makes him want to kiss her.

So he does. Luxuriates in her hot mouth, the slide of her tongue, her scent and that heavy, heady ambrosia of her moon blood.

Gods, he’s glad she doesn’t mind letting him feast upon her like this. He tries to remember the feel of his life before this, before the beach and the tadpoles, and he cannot fathom existing so long without this. Without her.

But before he can be carried away, his Eleanor takes a step back. Her cheeks are flushed. Neck reddened down to where her skin disappears beneath her light jacket and stays and under tunic. Her eyes are pools of heat, her lips already swollen.

Her moon blood—when not crippling her in pain—can sometimes spike her desire. This appears to be one of those times (gods below, there’s a damp spot high on his thigh where he’s already leaking).

She retrieves a bottle from the pack she’s secured to her person. Liquid silver sparkles in the moonlight. His nail beds tingle hard and this time he cannot stop the claws from forming.

“You’re sure?” he says.

His delightful contradiction, no longer a virgin but having lost none of her hidden boldness, only says, “Close your eyes.”

He does.

A year or two ago, he wouldn’t have. Blindness meant vulnerability. Meant unseen blows to unprotected places. Meant clawing starvation hollowing his guts and drying out his flesh, his throat so withered he could barely produce a sound that wasn’t a deathly, rattling click.

Now, as he obeys, a shudder of anticipation shivers down his spine.

He can just hear her uncork the bottle. Cannot hear her swallowing, or the air in her lungs, or the way he imagines her own heart races in lust and anticipation.

Nor can he hear her shift closer. Not until the rustle of fabric reaches him, right in front of him. And the scent of her blood suddenly surges. His lips part as he gasps, and his demented little love sticks two, wet fingers into his mouth and the taste blinds him to anything else.

“Trackers need a sample scent, right?” she says.

She’s stuck her hand down her trousers. She’s smeared his lips and tongue with her blood. Lets him suckle desperately a moment before she steps away, and he’s left to wipe his mouth to ensure no drop escapes.

“You are utterly deranged,” he says.

“Pot kettle,” she says, another of her people’s charming sayings.

She falls silent after that. Astarion keeps his eyes closed, searching the spaces between his teeth with his tongue for any last hints of her.

“Darling?” he says after a moment.

No answer.

His cock throbs. His claws fully extend, his fangs aching.

He counts to forty three times. Opens his eyes.

He’s alone. The clearing is empty, with no trace of his darling. Nothing but her scent floating in the air, an invitation to him.

He nudges the empty bottle she left at his feet. It’s not like her to waste anything. Which means this is a taunt. The cuffs deafen his ears to her, a potion of invisibility blinds his eyes to her. All he has to track her is scent. Her skin, her hair, and the dizzying harpy song of one of his most favorite things: her blood.

He has one job. Well, two, but they’re the same in the end.

Track her. Hunt her. Capture her.

And take her. Any way he sees fit (that they’ve discussed, and she was quite open). Her blood, her body, her sex. She’ll try to evade him. But he will find her. He’ll plunge into her, first with his fangs, then with his cock. Or perhaps the other way around. Perhaps both at the same time. He’s not sure. Didn’t bother to plan that far, because that’s what she likes to do.

He sucks air deep into his lungs: plush grass (her plush thighs on his hips), damp earth (her wet cunt pulling him in), the almost sweet smell of late-summer leaves (her arousal thick as he slips his tongue against her).

There she is. Headed immediately for the thickest part of the underbrush. Hoping to hide her tracks, hide her trail, slow him down.

He imagines her crouched behind a tree. The startle as he grabs her, spins her, pressing her to that tree and the way she’d moan as he slipped inside her…

He reaches into his undergarments and adjusts his cock. Running like this won’t be fun, but it’ll be so, so worth it once he finds his devious darling.

He stops at the edge of the underbrush. Looks to the closest tree: a large oak. They’re all large, with wide, thick branches nearly touching.

Astarion ponders a moment, and then slips off his shoes. He doesn’t technically need to, but it seems the sort of thing to do.

Sets his bare foot on the rough bark, and scurries right up the side of the trunk into the canopy above.

Brush doesn’t matter to a godsdamned immortal vampire, after all.

***

The rest is on AO3 because I wrote like 14k for this, goddamn, and also for the horny.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Wrapped In Wicked Romance Part III:

Nica Schwartz - Chapter Two

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

Nica: Nica Schwartz, from Germany.

Nica: My birthday’s March 2nd. My family’s my younger brother Ring, and my ability is that I can charm someone when I hold their hand.

Nica: My special skill…is I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue.

Sitting on a terrace, Nica pointed to the tip of his tongue that slightly stuck out with a smile,

Even though he carried the air of a smooth-talking charmer, I couldn’t help but be captivated.

Nica: I hear that those who can tie a cherry stem with their tongue are skilled kissers.

Nica: Wanna give it a try?

Kate: No, I don’t.

Nica: Man, what a let down.

(….Enough!)

At Nica’s suggestion to get to know each other, we went to a nearby cafe and started chatting—

(It startles me when he occasionally says things like that.)

Nica: So, what did you do before you became a fairytale keeper, robin?

Kate: I was a mail carrier, so I’m pretty knowledgeable of London’s alleyways.

Kate: I had to walk a lot to get things delivered quickly.

I remember it only being a week ago that I worked normally,

It feels like such a distant memory now, so I took a sip of my tea.

That’s when a worried look flashed onto Nica’s face—

Nica: I’d think that such a sudden change in environment must’ve been hard.

Kate: Huh….

His fingers touched my hand that was resting on the table.

Nica: Because you were working hard and then were unlucky enough to bump into Crown, right?

Nica: Even though you didn’t do anything wrong…..you simply witnessed it.

The rings on his beautiful fingers touched mine, and coldness of the metal seeped into my skin,

(No one’s ever told me that..…)

My body became hot and my nose started to sting.

Kate: ….Sure, it might’ve been bad luck that I met them at that exact moment on that day,

Kate: But I also think that it was somewhat inevitable.

Nica: Are you saying it was fate?

Oddly enough, it didn’t feel uncomfortable when he played with my fingers and poked them.

Kate: Because I met Crown, I now understand all the evil things taking place in this country,

Kate: If I hadn’t met them then I’d have just kept living without knowing any better.

Nica: ….What a strong robin.

The finger stroking my ring finger stopped at the base of it.

When I looked up, his cat-like, almond-shaped eyes pierced me.

Nica: But, I don’t want my girlfriend to see such a filthy world.

Nica: Since we’re a couple for today, I want you to only look at beautiful things.

I couldn’t bring myself to look away from the eyes that were piercing me.

Kate: ….For example?

Nica: Something like this….

Kate: Oh, wow!

Just as the fingers that played with my hand let go, a huge bouquet of flowers appeared from behind his back.

Kate: Where did you hide this….No, actually, when did you buy this?!

Nica: Aha, are you surprised?

(We haven’t been apart since we came to town.)

I was handed the beautiful bouquet, and the soft scent of the flowers tickled my nose, but -

(There’s an even more pleasant scent besides the flowers?)

The moment the wind carried the sensuous fragrance, the mystery was solved.

Nica: Wow, it’s really windy today….robin, you good? Your face is red.

(This is Nica’s scent….)

The sweet, sensual scent of ylang-ylang belongs to him,

Kate: It’s nothing….I’m just so happy about the flowers, thank you.

Nica: Bitte. [You’re welcome.] They suit you.

It felt like I was being tethered to Nica, so I hid my face with the bouquet.

Nica: Well, since we’re on a date, I have to make you happy.

Kate: But I’m plenty happy already…….

Nica: Are you starting to have fun with me?

Nica said proudly as he straightened the collar of his jacket, and smiled —

Nica: Let’s go do something fun.

Kate: That was so GOOD!

Nica: I’m glad you liked it.

After that, he took me to the theater to watch a play.

(I never even told him that I like going to the theater.)

Although it reminded me of how well-informed he is, I was glad he we went together…..

(Nica’s a very smart and wonderful person.)

Holding the bouquet I walked alongside him all day, completely attached to him.

Thin Lady: Oh, aren’t you the one from before?

(Oh, here we go again…)

I feel somewhat displeased at the woman calling out to him, even though I’m not his girlfriend.

However, I recognized the woman.

(She used to come to the theater quite often with her husband.)

I happened to see the pair fighting several times in the box seats on the second floor,

(I remember hearing about him getting his hands on other women, or something like that.)

While concerned over how thin she’d become, Nica whispered in my ear.

Nica: I was told things weren’t going so well with her husband.

Just as I was starting to feel a little sad about the truth being connected in such an unexpected place, the woman approached us.

Thin Woman: After talking to you, I realized that I can’t stay with him.

Thin Woman: But when I begged him for a divorce, he became violent….I don’t know what to do anymore.

(How terrible….)

When she covered her face, I saw her arms dappled with bruises, making me grimace in anger and disgust.

But Nica gently took the woman’s hand,

Nica: I can only listen to your story, I’m not able to solve the problem, but

And dropped a kiss on the back of it as if to comfort her.

Nica: There are lots of people who’ll think your attractive once you’re free.

Nica: It’ll be okay, be brave.

(Nica…)

Watching the situation,

Thin Woman: Yes…..that’s right.

She nodded to herself repeatedly like she was trying to convince herself of Nica’s words, and then Nica let go of her hand and slid his arm around my waist.

Nica: Well then, take care.

When I was about to leave the area at his urging, something caught my eye,

The woman was glaring at me extremely angrily.

(D-did I do something?)

Nica: Robin.

When he called out to me, I stopped looking at her and started walking —

Kate: ….Nica?

Looking up at him, the corners of his mouth had curled up.

Just as I was going to ask why he was smiling —

???: KYAAAAAA!!!

A scream came from behind, signaling that our happy time as a couple was now at an end.

[Master List] [Bitter End] [Premium End]

Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @drachonia

If you are 18+ and wish to be added to my tags list, please comment below specifying the IkeVil suitor, or for all translations.

[kookoomyboy]

line without a hook

⊂❀⊃ pairing : jungkook x oc

⊂❀⊃ genre : fluff (soft like cotton ;)), brother's bestfriend!jk

⊂❀⊃ wc: 1691

⊂❀⊃ summary: drabble | when he confesses to you and you press his heart tattoo in response; you as the shy speech impaired girl

⊂❀⊃ a/n: one of my favs i just adore this so i hope you do too!

< jjk titles,,> ♡ kookoomyboy ®

Skipping through the small pathway towards your home, sight scattering to the shops and bakeries that were open and the fresh aroma of Mr. Jeon’s baguettes made you automatically peep in through the glass door of the bakery you often visit  after school hours. The old man noticed your doe eyes wide at the sight of the freshly baked delicacy as he stepped forward to open the door and let you in. Mr Jeon was like a guardian to you and your brother Jimin, ever since your parents sadly passed away in an accident. Something that changed your life, something that made your world dark. You lost your ability to speak, but you could hear. Ever since, you never mingled with others, but slowly your life changed when Mr. Jeon and his son Jungkook stepped into your life. You gained back your confidence and started to be a little more social and now everything in your life was perfect. With him. Yes, you had this whole damn crush on the man who fixed you, being by your side. He made you believe in yourself, and that you were just like any other person out there. 

"Come in dear, how was your day?" Mr Jeon asked, his fatherly warmth making you crack up a smile. You settled yourself on the wooden  table as he placed a plate of fresh snacks in front of you and you looked so ready to dig in. Mr Jeon chuckled and patted your head with affection, placing himself on a chair next to you. You had picked up sign language pretty quickly, and all the people you know would understand you, and you felt really lucky for that. 

[ the sign languages would be put in between asterisks (*) and in bold italics for better understanding ]

*I had a pretty good day, Mr. Jeon. Jungkook taught me guitar today during the music session* You smiled, taking a bite of the macaroons in front of you. 

“That’s great, I’d like to hear you play one day” Mr. Jeon winked and the both of you giggled.

Just then the cafe started filling up with music, and you knew exactly who it was. It’s Jungkook’s habit to turn on music as soon as he comes into his dad’s cafe. You turned around, immediately spotting him, a leather jacket hung on his shoulder his tattooed hand on display through the short sleeves of the black t-shirt he wore, 

“Hey there, m’lady” Jungkook waved at you, taking a seat in front of you as an exhausted sigh left his lips. Both of you being best friends by now, you were used to these nicknames that he called you. Just a small change though, whenever he called you these, your heart would skip a beat, and your eyes filled with love, in its purest form.

“Jungkook, why don’t you come in a bit early and help me here, you know I’m not getting any younger.” Mr. Jeon said, as you scoffed a little, side eyeing the pouty man in front of you. 

“Dad.. I went out with my friends.. NOW before you say anything, we had practice. Some of them are coming here too so I wanted to let you know that we’ll need extra food hehe” He smiled innocently, and you saw Mr. Jeon glaring at him before walking away.

*Jungkook, did you see Jimin anytime after class? I didn’t get to meet him today* You signed to Jungkook as he replied

“Yeah, he’s coming here along with a couple of our friends today.” He said, looking away from you, with a smile on his face. You felt something off about him today, usually he’d just talk for hours to you, but even while he was teaching you to play guitar back at school, he absolutely avoided any eye contact. To be honest, you really wanted to make a move as it’s Valentine’s day, seeing a lot of couples celebrating everywhere, even at school. But you’re not confident enough. What if he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore? “He deserves a lot more” these thoughts were just fully occupying your head, you’re overthinking was pricking your heart a lot. So you just sat there in front of Jungkook, munching on the food, but thoughtfully placing a macaron in his mouth as he went through his phone. 

The door of the cafe swung open, and a group of boys scuttled in, along with your brother Jimin. “Y/N !!!” He squealed and took you in a hug, after a long tiring day. He was such a supportive and understanding brother, and a very good friend of Jungkook. 

*Jimin, who are they? I've never seen them with you or Jungkook before* You queried as the latter looked at the boys behind him and back to you. "They're our new buddies. We actually enrolled in a music academy nearby, you remember? The one I always wanted to go to." 

*You really did that and I didn't know huh? I'm not talking to you* You made an angry face and Jimin pinched your cheeks. 

"You would know sooner or later, pie." He giggled, making you shift from the "angry mode".

"Hey mate, who's this?" One of the boys who were seated at another table came forward and asked Jimin, the others following suit.

"This is my one and only sister, Park Y/N." He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you smiled at them. 

"Pie, meet Jaemin, Baekhyun and Mark." You bowed at them and one of the guys, Baekhyun spoke

"Damn, let her speak buddy, conversation is the key, ya know?" Jimin glared at his friend while you looked around, feeling suffocated all of a sudden. It took you so much time to leave the past in an unattended corner of your heart, and made sure you never slipped into it again, but with those insecurities that occurred in your head not so long ago,  and the statement “conversation is the key” started ringing in your head, a pang hitting your heart. 

But all of a sudden, a strong hand wrapped around yours and on looking up, you found Jungkook looking at you with worried eyes. 

“Uh, guys we’ll be back alright? I gotta give her an um, guitar class yeah we’ll see you around.” He dragged you out of the cafe, hands still securely wrapped around yours. 

“Uh-huh, why’s he so awkward?” Baekhyun turned to Jimin, who was still throwing daggers at him. Yes, they never knew about you, but Jimin found you unusually affected by Baekhyun’s words, and that angered him.

“She’s speech impaired.” Jimin’s words hit the latter like a truck, as he mumbled “shit” 

“Buddy, look I really didn’t know, I’m so sorry damn how can I make it up?”

-

Jungkook started his black bike that was parked a little far away from the cafe and handed you a helmet and his jacket. “Hold tight, alright? Don’t let go.” Simple sentence, but a great impact. Your slender arms encircled his well built waist, you could feel his abs through the flimsy material of the shirt he wore. The smell of his hit your senses, as a crimson tint spread through your soft cheek skin. For a moment, even though your thoughts screamed this won’t last for long, you felt calm with the wind brushing your hair backwards but little did you know, Jungkook had his gaze on your ethereal figure 

that clung on to him tightly and he wished he could hold you close. And that was going to happen.

He stopped near an open area, a little too high from the ground but you could care less. All you needed is some fresh air, and this felt perfect, with the setting sun and the man you love with you.

You were about to sit down there on the slightly dirty grass, when his hands gently removed the leather jacket around your figure and wrapped it around your waist as you wore a white skirt all along. You were flabbergasted at how he noticed all such tiny things, and you felt so in love. 

You both sat silently, but a million thoughts in your minds. Even if you didn’t speak, he felt you through your eyes. He knows you inside out. Jungkook scooted closer to you and took your hand in his. 

“Look Y/N, I know, this might not be the right moment and heck today is Valentine’s day, and I wanted it to be grander but I think you really need to know this”

You raised an eyebrow, your eyes on his. He sighed a little before speaking;

“I love you, I want you to be a part of me, my heart, forever.” Your eyes widened and heart picked up it’s pace as if it was longing to reach home, your home, which is the man right in front of you.

Your insecurities backing away at his confession, you couldn’t even take your hands out of his grip. And you thought of a way to reciprocate your feelings.

Your thumb slightly traced up till his heart tattoo that was inked on the back of his hand and gently pressed it, still looking into his eyes. Him being the man who noticed all the tiny things, smiled fondly at your cute way of confessing back, as he joined your foreheads together. 

“Damn princess, I’m just out of words, I love you so much. And what you did just now, it’s gonna be our thing. And don’t ever worry nor have any insecurities, it’s your world and I’m just a part of it but I promise to protect you forever.” His pinky finger was intertwined around yours as his other hand went up to your cheek, caressing it.

“May I, love?” You nodded as his lips were on yours in no time. 

He understood you no matter what and you saw all the colors of love in his eyes. 

--

master list <3

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

12 Days of Christmas: 2024 Christmas Event

Day 4: Gingerbread

Pairing: Hyrule x Reader

Warning(s): N/A

Notes: This is dedicated to me getting rear-ended on my way to work and having a panic attack in a Walgreens parking lot, and all the people who've been requesting Hyrule (I SEE YOU).

Main Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Previous Day | Next Day

Hyrule was a hylian of many talents.

He could wield a sword like no one's business, create lightning with a mere snap of his fingers, and possessed a mouth quicker than anyone you'd met before. Though, you realized upon waking up in bed--alone, no less--to the frighteningly familiar scent of burning, there was only so much the man could be perfect at.

Standing on unsteady legs, you followed the scent to the kitchen, mouth falling open as you beheld the chaos. There was batter everywhere: on the counter, the walls, the floor, and, most notably, the shifty-eyed form of your boyfriend. Not only that, but it was a very suggestive shade of brown that made you want to simultaneously scream and throw yourself into the comfort of your shared bed.

"G-Good morning," stammered the fairy bastard himself, arms coming up to partially cover his bare chest, which only brought more questions to the frazzled forefront of your mind. Why was he shirtless? Why was it making you want to jump something other than whoever told him he could make... well, you weren't quite sure what he was attempting to create, but you would sure as hell find out. "...How did you sleep?"

You opened your mouth to respond.

A glob of molten shit fell from the ceiling.

Your jaw clicked shut in shocked solidarity.

Hyrule was still staring at you, looking very much like a child who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Except the cookie jar was a considerate metaphor for whatever the fuck was currently cooling in that blasted cooking pot.

"Good," you managed to force out. It was true, you had slept amazingly; if only your waking life could have started as perfectly. "What–"

"I can explain," Hyrule cut you off, taking a step closer. Dear Hylia, he was covered in batter, from the tops of his freckled shoulders to the tapered dip of the beginnings of a v-line through the band of his sleep trousers. You instinctively held your hands up. Another glob fell from the ceiling. "I, um, heard you talking about wanting to make... gingerbread a bit ago," he paused, and you caught sight of the cookbook sitting innocently on the counter, feeling your exasperation ebb like water through clenched fingers. Hyrule's gaze turned melancholic as he surveyed the damage. "It was supposed to be a surprise..."

Fuck, you couldn't even think to be upset after all that. He had tried, and you were goddamn proud of it. "Don't be sorry," you said. Soft, comforting. Without missing a beat, you closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping him in a fierce hug. To hell with your clothes, you could wash them later. "We all start somewhere, honey."

Hyrule returned your embrace, hands fisting in the back of your tunic. His head wormed to where your shoulder met your neck, nose brushing sensitive skin, and you giggled softly at the ticklish sensation. "It's okay," you rubbed his back, paying extra attention to the sharper-than-normal slopes of his shoulder blades. Sure, there was an ungodly amount of failed gingerbread coating every inch of the kitchen, but you were an adult, damnit! "How about this," you began. "We'll clean this up and I'll show you how to make gingerbread the non-exploding way, okay?"

Hyrule's response was a grateful, mentally-assuaged peck to your cheek. "Thank you," he said, and you hugged him closer, unbothered by the goop still dripping from the ceiling.

"Okay, what the fuck," you muttered in disbelief as you worked on the mess that was the ceiling with a half-damp rag, precariously perched on the highest chair you owned. Naturally, it had begun to harden as time passed, and you were seriously regretting leaving your cookbook within reach of your boyfriend's grubby little fae fingers. You still loved him, obviously, but it had been no secret who would be doing the cooking in the relationship from the moment you witnessed his attempt at fruit cake a year back. "Link, love of my life, how the hell did you manage this?"

"Sorry," came his sheepish reply from the counter, where a particularly stubborn set of globs resided. His cheeks were pink with situational embarrassment, and it couldn't have been cuter if he tried.

You glanced down at Hyrule, bit your lip, and scrubbed marginally harder. "It's fine, I'm just..." Shocked? Aghast? Completely and overwhelmingly flattered by the gesture? "...impressed."

And terrified, but you would keep that to yourself.

"You didn't have to do this," you continued, slower. More thoughtful. "Not that I don't appreciate it--because I do– but, um–"

Fuck, how were you to convey your appreciation without sounding like an asshole, or, worse, Legend?

"I wanted to," replied your boyfriend; simple, like that was all there was to it. Hopeful hazel eyes tore themselves from the hardened gingerbread to gaze at your perched form. "Plus, you said everyone starts somewhere. I'm not getting any better unless I try."

Double fuck, he was using your own words against you! To keep from squealing, you scrubbed harder, squeezing the rag with enough force to puncture the fabric. "That's..." you paused, because, really, he was completely right. He usually was. "Thanks, Link."

"At your service," the hero mock saluted, and you couldn't help but snort. He wasn't a knight–not by a long shot–but it didn't matter when he saved you all the same. The counter was clean, and he moved to the chair you stood atop, hands hovering inches from your calves, ready to hold you steady should the need arise.

You giggled, wishing you had a way of pecking the crown of his head without simultaneously sticking your ass in his face. Not that you hadn't enjoyed each other in the kitchen, but one mess was enough for one day. "Truly, I'm being blessed."

"Actually, I'd argue it's the other way around–"

"Shush, dear, we're having a moment."

A hand squeezed your calf. "Right, right."

You were bone-tired by the time the scent of gingerbread finally began filling the house, practically passed out on the small couch you'd purchased together to represent the greatest triumph of your love: combined social anxiety, which the item of furniture emulated perfectly by encouraging you to renounce hylian-ity and become the hermits your souls yearned for.

A clattering noise rang out from the kitchen. You raised your head from the soft backrest, your expression not able to fully contain your budding terror. "You okay?" you called hesitantly. Letting Hyrule assume control of the kitchen while you collapsed in the living room was a battle unto itself, but you had faith. A tiny, sniveling, quivering faith that his response would either make or break.

"Yep!" Hyrule called back. He sounded giddy, though you weren't sure if it was a bad thing or not. "Ready to be amazed?"

"Hit me!" you cheered, and the hero rushed into the room, holding two vaguely-square blobs that smelled more than promising. It seems you made the right choice in overseeing the dough-making procedure, because he had a silly little habit of... adding ingredients that sounded good, but were actually what your mom warned you about when it was your father's turn to cook. "Oh my Hylia, you did it."

Hyrule chuckled, sitting next to you and handing over one of the mouthwatering blobs. "You haven't even tried it yet."

"I don't have to," you shot back, hefting a wide grin in his direction. You took a bit of the cookie and, fuck, if that wasn't some of the best gingerbread you remembered having in a painfully long time. "Holy shit, this is amazing."

"R-Really?" Your hero leaned closer, eyes glimmering hopefully. His thigh brushed yours when you took him by the back of his neck, pulling him closer until you were nose-to-nose. You kissed him, and there was no hesitation in the way Hyrule's arms snaked to wrap around your form. He tasted like gingerbread, and you almost wept when it came time to separate for air, lips swelling and mouths panting. "I love you," he said, holding you like a strong wind would blow you away. "So much."

"I love you, too," you pressed your foreheads together, content to bask in the fading dusk light and freshly-fallen snow caking the frosted outside of the windows. The cookie in your hand meant nothing when you had him, even if it was delicious as fuck. "We should do this again."

Hyrule's eyes crinkled at the corners, and he pressed a ginger-tinged kiss to the tip of your nose. "I'd love nothing more."

A bit shorter than usual, but I'm still proud!

[cannibalisticskittles]

wingmanning - pt. 1

also on ao3 here :)

Lucanis has become accustomed to waking in odd positions in the months since Spite was forced into him, so finding himself half-crouched on the floor, thighs tensed like he’d been in the process of rising, isn’t much of a shock. 

What he is less accustomed to is regaining consciousness with another person present. 

Ward Ingellvar, called Rook by everyone around her and holder of his current contract, is currently peering down at him, worry etched between her brows.

“...Lucanis? Are you… back?”

Is he in control, or is Spite?

But Spite does not press at his mind, clamoring to wrest control away. Instead, he skulks about the edges of Lucanis’ consciousness, faintly grumbling – and yet, relatively quiet. 

“...yes.” For now. Which means he should get up and figure out what damage has been done while he was out.

Rook’s fingers twitch at her side, but she has the good grace not to offer him a hand up and worsen his embarrassment as he stands. She does, however, stare at him with that same look of worry. Intently. Lucanis takes a moment to assess his surroundings more thoroughly.

The last he recalls, he was writing notes, and now… well, at least Spite has not brought them far. He is still in the Lighthouse, not far from the pantry he has recently taken residence in; Spite’s escape attempt only brought them as far as the dining room.

The fire is out. The scent of wet woodsmoke hangs heavy in the air. There are potatoes scattered across the floor – as well as a few of the place settings that were formerly at home on the table. 

What exactly was Spite doing?

“What… happened?” he asks carefully. The words are spoken with great reluctance. It is… less than pleasant to have to rely on others to get answers for these missing moments.

“Spite… got into a few things,” Rook says. “Well. A lot of things. Tried to talk him out of the more, ah, dangerous ventures, but that wasn’t hugely effective, so then I tried to… distract him.”

“With – the potatoes?” 

Rook laughs, suddenly, then claps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. You just sounded so – …sorry.” She clears her throat. “No, the potatoes are my fault, but it wasn’t intentional. I came in to take stock of how many we had; Harding wants to make stew. But when I went to check, it… drew his attention, I suppose? He came out of the pantry, startled me, I dropped them, they scattered everywhere… then he started to poke around the room.”

“Just in the room?”

“Mmhmm. He said something about leaving, or wanting to leave, but he didn’t seem to be actively trying to go anywhere. More… seeking new sensations?” She shrugs. “I imagine there’s a lot here that was not present… before.”

In the Ossuary, she means. 

It’s been mere days since stepping foot on solid ground, and in that time alone, the demon has witnessed far more than he ever did when they were trapped down in that accursed place. It should be more than enough to keep Spite occupied – but it is not. 

Spite has been incessant with his questions since getting out, pestering him about new sights, new concepts – and yet, between all this, Spite makes demands to leave no matter where Lucanis goes, and complaints of being trapped when he declines. It makes no sense. The demon has always been insistent when he wants something, and he does seem to struggle to understand much about this world that is different from his own, but how could walking free of their prison have made Spite more restless? 

Now, it’s like he rankles whenever Lucanis isn’t in motion. Even in the Ossuary, the grousing was less frequent. It’s enough to drive a man mad. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to it, nor does there seem to be any rhyme or reason to what Spite has been doing here.

But… he considers Rook’s words. Is that what it is? Curiosity? The desire for these new sensations? Mierda. If that’s true, he’s not sure the demon is ever going to be satisfied.

Lucanis spots a bent spoon amidst the fallen tubers, and a fork with its prongs bent back by the fireplace. “Spite’s handiwork, I assume?”

Rook nods. “Mmhmm. He did get ahold of a few more than that, though I’m not sure where they ended up.” She peers around the room as Lucanis sighs, then  adds, “it’s not so bad – there weren’t enough place settings when we got here, but the Fade spit more out, so I’m sure replacements will show up eventually. And while he was preoccupied with that, I was able to move the knives out of the way.”

“The knives?” 

Lucanis glances at the far corner of the kitchen, where he can detect a flicker of violet – a telltale sign that Spite is lurking nearby. The demon does not deign to chime in, though. His silence feels purposeful. 

…or perhaps he is simply bored and wandered off. Maker knows he did it often enough in the Ossuary, even if the wards in place kept him confined to their erstwhile cell. 

“Half the kitchen knives were laying on the countertop,” Rook says. “Felt like the sort of thing he should probably know his way around, but not without some… supervision. So. I moved ‘em. Set ‘em outside the doors, on the little balcony.”

Spite does pipe up now. “No fun,” he grumbles, then disappears from view, in the direction of the door.

“It’s not supposed to be fun,” Lucanis fires back.

He realizes too late that he has spoken aloud, when Rook stops in her tracks and shoots him a puzzled look. That’s a habit in need of breaking. 

“That… was for Spite,” he explains with a sigh. 

“Ah!” Understanding dawns in her eyes immediately. “Is he – still here?”

“He’s never far,” Lucanis says, “but I believe he has left us for the moment.”

Rook nods, but her eyes still drift in the general direction Lucanis was facing when he spoke to Spite. “I wonder how far he’s able to wander from you,” she murmurs. “And… does actual, physical distance have any bearing on how well you can communicate with each other? Are there sound waves moving through the air and it’s a matter of attuning to it, or is it entirely magical and facilitated by, or through, the Fade? Is there a way to become attuned to it?”

As she muses, Lucanis surveys the damage once more. It could be worse, all considered. Though the fact that Spite was able to take charge so soon – so easily – is… worrying. But there is little to be done about that now besides fixing the disorder the demon caused. He bends to pick up one of the wayward potatoes at his feet. 

This, at last, breaks Rook from her reverie. “Oh! Sorry, here, let me help.” And she begins to do just that. She takes to the task with fervor, scrabbling on her knees to scoop up nearby tubers and coax them out from the nooks and crannies they have rolled into. 

“Rook,” Lucanis says, “you don’t have to do that. It isn’t your mess to mend. It’s Spite’s fault – which means it’s mine to handle.”

But Rook is not to be deterred. 

“Oh, no,” she says. “There wouldn’t be a mess if not for me. Not this one, anyway; I suppose he might have still gotten to the silverware later on. Even so, this?” She waves a potato in the air demonstratively before, for some reason, tucking it into one of the many pockets adorning her coat. “This one’s my fault.”

“You were only preparing for dinner. There’s no fault there.”

But she grimaces. “Weeeell, if it was that simple, I might agree with you. However…” Another potato, another pocket to stash it in. “I… may have come to, ah, hide them.”

“To hide them,” he repeats. “Is that why you're keeping them in your coat?”

Rook pauses, shoots him a glance, then… tucks yet another potato into her coat. “Yes. Better here than within reach.”

“And why exactly is that?”

“Harding wanted to make stew.”

“Yes,” he says, “you’ve mentioned that.”

“Ah. Right. You weren’t here the last time this happened. Harding made potato stew once before, soon after we came to the Lighthouse, and it was… well…” 

She pauses for a moment, staring off into the middle distance as though beset by a terrible memory.

“The taste was… passable.” Yet the wrinkle around her nose and the way her lip curls slightly as she says that suggests otherwise. “But the texture… I don’t understand it. It’s like every mouthful, there was something different wrong with it. Crunchy, then mushy, then gritty, and sometimes even rubbery.”

“In a stew?”

Rook nods. 

Suddenly, a comment Bellara made the previous night about acquired tastes makes sense. 

“I don’t know if it’s a Ferelden thing, or if it’s because we’re in the Fade, or what,” she says. “When it was just her and Varric and me, we almost never had access to a kitchen, so I can’t say I really had a reference point for her cooking skills outside of the sort of things you could throw together on the go. But I know she could make a killer sandwich. I had so many of the Lace Specialty when we were tracking down Solas, and her yam and jam slam was perfect for traveling, too.”

“...yam and jam slam?” The words sound bafflingly foreign together. 

Rook nods. “Y’know, just… buttered toast, slices of roasted yam, and some butter in between. Keeps for a surprisingly long time.”

That… sounds heinous, but he lets it pass. He won’t bother asking about the Lace Specialty – it might be best to keep that one a mystery. 

“Whatever it is, though, when Harding said she wanted to make it again tonight, it seemed like it might be for the best if the main ingredient was to be… conveniently lost. But they were heavier than I expected, and I dropped the bag the first time I tried moving them, and then Spite came out, and I dropped it again and spilled them… so really, if I hadn’t been so uncharitable, maybe Spite wouldn’t have come to investigate in the first place. No noise, no mess.”

“Or,” Lucanis says, “perhaps Spite would have done more than bend a few spoons – he may have wandered off without any eyes on him.”

He is loath to admit the limitations of his ability to control the demon, but it does no good to ignore the potential threats it poses. 

“Mmm.” She considers this. “You may be right. Still, I say I’m at least half responsible for the mess,” she says, and resumes her efforts to tidy. 

Lucanis does the same. 

A few minutes pass in silence this way, filled only by the sound of quiet shuffling and tiny clang of silverware being scooped up.

Lucanis is the first to speak. He has done much for the sake of a contract in his life – much that was miserable, or injurious, or torturous, even – but the thought of rubbery stew will not leave his mind. That… cannot come to pass. 

“What did you plan to tell her?” he asks. 

“Hmm?”

“Harding,” he says. “When you went back to her empty-handed. Surely she would find that odd, knowing that there had been plenty here, before.”

“Honestly, I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Rook says. “Maybe that we misremembered what we had? Or the Fade did something to them? Or… I tripped and fell and lost them all in the abyss.”

“And… what did you plan to eat, then?”

“Had not thought that far either,” she admits. 

He makes a contemplative noise and picks up what seems to be the last of the ruined silverware. Unless, of course, Spite has stashed more elsewhere in the room. Lucanis wouldn’t put it past him. 

“You know,” he says, “I do know how to cook.”

“You do?”

Perhaps he ought to be offended by her tone, but amusement wins out. “I do,” he confirms. 

“The master assassin has kitchen skills?”

“The master assassin has to eat.” 

“I suppose so.” She cocks her head to the side and blinks owlishly at him. “Wait – are you saying you’d be willing to make dinner tonight instead? Really?”

“Seems a waste of perfectly good potatoes to hide them away,” he says. “That is, of course, if you do not mind a master assassin handling your food.”

Rook scoops up the last handful of potatoes at her feet and rises. “If you poison me with something edible, I’ll die happier than I’d live if I ate that stew again.” And then her expression reflects a sudden panic. “–not that I really think you’d do that!”

“It’s natural to worry about,” he says. They ought to consider the possibility, at least. He won’t be poisoning anyone today – but a little more caution on their part wouldn’t go amiss.

“But I really don’t think–” She cuts herself off before finishing. Instead, she worries her lower lip between her teeth, then asks, “are you sure you’re alright doing this for us?”

There is apprehension in her voice, in her expression, but he is unsure of the reason for it. “I would not offer if I did not mean it,” he assures her. 

“I only mean – we’re asking a lot of you, as it is. Killing… gods, or ancient mages, if that distinction means anything. That’s your contract, not… playing scullery maid or chef. We really should be providing for you, not the other way around.”

Ah. The fear of overstepping. That, he can do something about. 

“If I allow myself to be sickened by tainted food and am too weak to hold a dagger straight, my odds of fulfilling my contract become… low,” he says. “And I do not fail contracts.”

Rook nods slowly at that. “Point made. …you don’t think it would do any harm to tell Harding a little white lie, do you? Say that you were already making food when I came in – something with potatoes, so, alas, we’re fresh out, and dinner is taken care of for the night. You know a recipe that involves potatoes, right?”

A recipe?

“I'm sure I can think of something,” he says mildly.

“Excellent. And… maybe Harding will just forget about stew by the time we get more.” She rolls her shoulders. “…I suppose there’s no need to hold on to these, then.”

Rook crosses to the kitchen area and begins to set tuber after tuber on the countertops, first arranging the ones from her arms, and then pulling them from her coat pockets. Lucanis brings his armful over as well, placing them beside her pile until there is a nice, tidy row. 

“We’ve got sort of a hodgepodge of various ingredients,” she says, “and they’re a little… scattered.”

“I’ve noticed.” The pantry has plenty of root vegetables, but not nearly as many essentials beyond that, and while he may not have had much time to examine the areas of the Lighthouse besides his erstwhile living space, even a quick perusal of the cabinets did not turn up much more.

“Honestly,” she says, “it’s been difficult to keep track of what was here before we got here, what we brought in, and what’s just… appeared. Still! There ought to be enough to make… something other than that stew. Would you like some help?”

But as she asks this, another voice steals away his attention. 

“Smells. Like earth.”

Lucanis has the composure not to jolt or visibly startle when the demon speaks into his ear – but it does delay his response by a moment. What was it she said? She asked if he needed help? 

“There’s no need,” Lucanis says, “you’ve already done more than enough, straightening out Spite’s chaos. I shouldn’t require any further help.”

“I’m sure you’re quite capable in the kitchen and you don’t need help,” she says, “but would you accept some anyway? To speed it up, or to give you less to do? I can’t say I’m particularly practiced – I never spent all that long on a cooking rotation – but I also never had my rotation ended early after giving the whole hall food poisoning like some of the other Watchers did, so…”

Spite chooses now to hover around her, craning to peer over her shoulder, and then looks back at Lucanis. “Lucanis. Why?”

Lucanis does his best to ignore the demon and process her words.

Does she ask out of that fear of overstepping again? Not wanting to give him too many duties outside of his contract? Lingering distrust, despite her insistence on the contrary? Wanting to be sure he isn’t going to slip something in the food and poison them after all? Or is it simply a genuine desire to be helpful?

He’d like to think he would have a better read on that, normally – when there isn’t a demon speaking incessantly into his ear. 

“Different. From potatoes. Different. From the others. Lucanis.”

“...Lucanis?”

Rook, this time. Her brow is once again knit with something akin to worry. She has said something else, he realizes, that he did not catch, preoccupied with Spite as he was. 

“It’s… Spite,” he admits. “He is… curious again.” 

Rook tilts her head and narrows her eyes as though doing so will allow her to hear the demon. As though this is something to desire instead of something to endure. “What is he asking?”

But Lucanis shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. Best not to indulge him, it will only encourage him to try this again.”

She frowns and opens her mouth as if to protest, then shuts it again. Which is just as well, because Spite continues to pester him, needling him with increasing agitation. 

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” she asks, just as Spite growls, “Lucanis!” 

He needs —

A moment to himself. Some quiet. Rare though that may be.

Lucanis runs a hand through his hair as he gathers his thoughts. “…didn’t you say you were going to tell Harding her efforts were no longer needed?”

“Yes!” Rook clasps her hands together. “Right. I should let her know. Then she can rest of it longer, after all that rock magic she did today. Why don’t I do that and then I can come back and… peel? Stir? Scrub? Any of those tedious little tasks you don’t feel like doing, foist them onto me, yes?”

“Yes,” he agrees, though really, he has only ever been able to tolerate the presence of others in the kitchen with him in small doses, aside from those who had the kindness to teach him the basics in the first place – and Illario, though his cousin usually tested his patience before too long.

He shouldn’t refuse, though. What grounds does he have to turn her down?

Rook nods, and then she is off. 

When she is gone and Lucanis is as alone as he can be, these days, Spite redoubles his questioning. 

“Like dirt,” says the demon, “earth. But not like. Harding.”

“No,” Lucanis sighs. “Not like Harding.”

Harding smells like… loam. Fresh, healthy soil, flecked with green and growing things. Rook smells more like… old earth. Drier, dustier. 

“Why?”

“Why does it matter?” He cannot keep the exasperation from his voice any longer. 

“You notice. But won’t. Say why.”

He does notice. It’s an old habit, and one he intends to keep sharp. Things left unnoticed are things he cannot account for, and even a scent can be a warning sign of some danger lying in wait. 

“It isn’t important enough to interrupt,” he says. “Spite, I cannot focus when you’re speaking over someone. Others… notice.”

“But why? Why not. The same?” 

“It’s just different. There doesn’t have to be a reason.” Even if there is, it’s not one that the demon is likely to understand. What does he know of gardening, or catacombs? And he does not have the time required to give Spite an answer that would satisfy him.

“Is,” Spite grumbles. “But Lucanis. Never wants. To say. Why.”

Spite continues to voice his discontentment, but Lucanis turns his focus away from the demon and towards the task at hand, taking the opportunity to take stock of what’s in the cabinets.

It isn’t much. The shelves are in dire need of restocking. But… there’s olive oil. And several glass jars with the names of various spices written on them in what looks to be Bellara’s handwriting. 

Below, pots and pans of… sufficient size and quality, at least for now. Right. He can make something of this. 

He diverts, briefly, to the pantry, and returns with root vegetables, as well as a few onions. It won’t be the stew Harding envisioned, but there is enough for soup. 

As he sets these on the counter, besides the row of potatoes, he says, “Spite.”

Spite is entirely uninterested in his attempt at conversation, preferring instead to stare intently at the vegetables. He bends until his face is almost flush with the countertop, then reaches out and pokes at the pile, watching one of them wobble.

Lucanis isn’t sure if that actually does push it forward or if it’s simply unbalanced. Truly, he’s not certain how much influence Spite can exert on the world when he isn’t considering Lucanis’ body. There wasn’t much to test this on in the Ossuary; the venatori did have enough sense not to provide a practiced assassin with anything that could be used as a weapon. Which was, well, anything, when you’re a Crow. So the only thing Spite could consistently attempt to influence was… him.

If Spite is able to influence physical objects even when incorporeal... well. It’s something to watch out for. Another layer of danger to this whole situation. Even if Spite is only using this influence to poke around at root vegetables. 

“Spite,” he says again, firmer. 

The demon glances his way, which might be the most acknowledgment he’s going to get.

“You cannot – we cannot – be walking around whenever you want. And you cannot just… take over like that. My body isn’t yours to do as you wish with it, and – besides that, a demon in the midst of everyone, outside of the Fade, it scares people.” As it should. 

“Wasn’t. Outside it! And she. Already knows! About us!” Spite protests.

“Yes,” he says, “but losing control like that – not knowing where I am? – it’s… unprofessional.” 

Spite grumbles but makes no other reply. Lucanis opens the cabinets again and begins sorting through the jars of spices. 

“We – I – seem less… competent. Less trustworthy when this happens.”

Spite doesn’t even bother to grumble in response this time, only presses his face closer to the counter, watching how light filters through the glass jars. 

Lucanis sighs. His professional reputation has surely been marred enough by his absence; that he has been made an abomination and cannot seem to keep a tight enough leash on Spite for this fact to stay secret forever… well. It will not help that. The whispers back home may not have started yet, but it is only a matter of time, and all his past deeds, all the respect and good regard he once had earned, may crumble in the face of his new, permanent guest.

And he can’t even say this isn’t exactly what ought to happen. Who would trust a man – an abomination – who could lose himself at any moment to the capricious whims of a demon? Even here, now, amidst all their kind words, these excursions cannot foster encouragement about his ability to fulfill his contract. 

“What must they think…”

Spite pokes at a potato now.

“Rook thinks. You have. Nice hands.”

Lucanis pauses. He closes the cabinet to get a clearer look at Spite.

“…Spite,” he says quietly, voice carefully restrained, “how do you know that?”

Spite barely spares him a glance between examining root vegetables. “She said so!”

“Yes, but – why did she say so?”

A thousand different scenarios flash through his head. Rook said Spite bent silverware, chased potatoes, was interested in knives, but… what part of that could have inspired a comment like that? What else could Spite have done while Lucanis wasn’t in control?

Spite spares another glance at Lucanis, but seems faintly baffled by the question. “No. Fun.” 

That’s hardly an answer. 

“Spite.” Lucanis is terse, now. “What. Exactly. Did she say?”

“Careful, Spite. Don’t want to ruin. His nice. Hands.” Spite makes a face – with his face, which should feel stranger, but doesn’t, after so many months with only reflection of his own face gazing back at him as his only company. “And then!” the demon says, no longer mimicking, “she put. It. Out!”

“The knives?” Lucanis asks. 

“The fire!”

Spite’s expression – his expression – suggests this is an offense of the highest order. He practically pouts, jerking his chin towards the fireplace, which he now gazes balefully at. “Wouldn’t. Let me touch,” he complains. 

“…ah.” That… makes sense. The smell of wet wood, the decidedly damp logs in the fireplace… “Spite, fire is not to be touched.”

“Why. Not? Rook makes fire.”

“And Rook still doesn’t go sticking her hands in fireplaces. You shouldn’t, either.” He sets another jar on the counter, then adds, “or ovens. Or candles.”

Spite’s lips twist down. “Lucanis is no. Fun. Rook. Is no. Fun. Only want. To see! Not fair!”

“Touching is not seeing, Spite.” Lucanis can hear the sound of footsteps, faint but growing nearer. Rook is returning. “You’re welcome to watch and see all you like, now, but keep quiet. …I’ll see about relighting the fireplace if you can manage it.”

This, at least, elicits a positive response from the demon, and Spite is grinning as he says, “deal!”

It is a deal Spite is likely to break before long, but Lucanis will cherish the brief moments of silence he gets all the same. 

[hambiichu]

Captain's confession

Sumarry: Levi doesnt know how to confess to you so he asks his trusted people: Erwin and Hanjie.

-------

"You what?" Erwin looks at Levi then at Hanjie, the confused look evident in their faces. "Can you repeat that?" 

"How do I confess them?" Levi repeats through his gritted teeth, he felt emberassed to repeat it but he knows damn well it was the first time Erwin and Hanjie ever heard Levi asks that question.

Erwin puts his pen down, clasps his hands together on the desk, and asks, "Who's them?"

"Them."

Oh.

Everyone knows you are the captain's little assistance, you followed him around like a lost dog. You consistently deliver his tea at the same time on the same day, work with him on paperwork, and assist him with cleaning his office and quarters.

Levi starts to develop feelings for you throughout these periods.

Wait.

Or it already been there from the start?

The first time he saw you; love touched his heart at first sight and grew deeper and stronger until it consumed his thoughts every day.

The fact that a grown man in his mid-30s liked you made him feel embarrassed at first. It was the first time he had ever liked someone who made his stomach turn over and his heart ache even a little. As though God made you specifically for him, he didn't feel this strongly about anyone until you came around. He keeps it hidden inside of him with his typical stoic demeanour.

You are a bold adult, and it is not dishonourable to back down from any obstacles, no matter how small, that put his worries for your safety at bay. He watches you like a bounty hunter, and he hates it when you are irresponsible, let alone put yourself in danger.

He admires you, your skills, your face, the way you laugh with others, and how you get along. It's like he can't compete with that. He sometimes thinks hes not good for you; you are his captain, and you just a comrade.

Every time he thinks about it, it hurts his heart to realise that, despite your perfection, you are more ideal for someone else than for him. Hell, has he never indicated whether you genuinely like him?

He understands that you respect him as captain and that he does the same for you, but if he's being completely honest with himself, he would prefer to let you go if you have ideal someone than him. That way, it will be much simpler for him to move on.

Even it hurts so much.

"Why them?" Erwin asks, raising his bushy eyebrow, giving Levi a warm kind smile.

"Is shorty in love?" Hanjie teases, wiggling their eyebrows.

"Shut it, four-eyes! Who says I am in love? Is just a question!" Levi crosses his arms stubbornly, tapping his foot impatiently. "Why them? Well, is easy, them! Thats all."

"You're not giving us an exact reason why them," Erwin chuckles lightly, side-glancing at Hanjie, who's grinning plastered on their face. "Why them? In all people, Levi. They're just your comrade."

"Yeah! Why them? Care to give us a reason why?" Hanjie still wiggles their eyebrows. Levi wants to throw a chair at them if he wants if Erwin allows him.

"I am not explaining much why them!" Levi gritted his teeth again. "I just wanna know how do I confess to them? Explaining why them is a waste of time. I used my willpower to ask them if they're free from this evening and said yes, I am not losing chances."

Erwin and Hanjie exchange a knowing smile as they glance at each other. Erwin's eyes scan Levi's entire body, assessing his current state of stress and anticipation for the confession he will make to you this evening. He hums to himself, aware that his own closest friend is in love. It is an uncommon sight, to predict that this short, stoic man is in love and is seeking assistance in how to confess.

"We'll help," Erwin straightens himself. "First and foremost, you need to calm down, take a deep breath, and know whatever the upcoming they'll say is up to you to react."

"What if they say no?" Levi gripped his nails to his forearms; he hates the thought but is up to him to react. "What if they rejected me on the spot? How would that help me?"

"Go find someone new; it's easy as that," Hanjie chirms, placing their elbow at the armrest and their hand on their cheek. "Yknow, if you got rejected, then the only comfort way is to find someone new."

"Is not that easy, four eyes!" Levi grumbles as he furrowed his eyebrows. "I'd been weighing on my mind every day; thinking about them is like a fucking annoying fly that buzzes around at my ears. They're like a god at my eyes, and they're the purest human being that set on this planet."

He makes eye contact with the two, and he inhales deeply before exhaling through his mouth. His nail is sinking further into his forearms, and he's tapping his foot more impatiently now simply because he's so nervous. Only you are what he desires. He hates the thought and finds it much worse than he expected, and he has a hard time finding someone else if you reject him.

"I don't want someone new," Levi sighed calmly, "I want them."

That made Erwin and Hanjie look at each other again. Oh, he's really in love. Really, Erwin clears his throat as he inhales and looks at Levi with his calm, ocean blue eyes.

"If you confess, what would you say?" asks Erwin, which caused Hanjie to roar in laughter.

"Will you marry me?"

"Shorty, that's not how you say it!" Hanjie laughs harder, causing Levi to stand up and shake them violently to stop laughing, his face tinted with red and his eyes bulging out of his sockets.

Erwin attempts to contain his laughter, but Levi snaps his head at him. If Erwin isn't a commander, Levi might do the same to Hanjie. Even so, he returns to his chair, averting his gaze as he crosses his arms and taps his foot once more.

Hanjie adjusts their uniform, still grinning. "How about not that. If you're not up to tell your feelings, why not buy something for them at least?" Erwin suggested. "That way, they instantly know the gesture and that you can tell them you like them."

"How would I know what they want?" Levi huffs, "They're never told me the things they'd like."

"Flowers." Hanjie suggested, "If you can't tell what they like, then maybe start giving them gifts."

"Eugh. What if they are allergies to flowers?"

"Nonsense! There's an open flower shop down town; they give the best flowers. Trust me, they'll love what you bought!"

Levi thinks for a moment and nodded slowly, "I guess I'll buy it. Is worth the money to spent."

Erwin nodded in comprehension as Hanjie clapped their hands, and Levi got up from his chair and gave him the thumbs up. He modifies his carvant, restyles his hair, and pats his fictitious dust on his clothing. After closing his eyes and taking a long breath, he felt as though he was ready for anything.

"I am ready," He says checking the time. "I should be going."

Hanjie gave him a roar of support and Erwin do the same.

"And if anything happens, pull out method is your champion!" Hanjie exclaimed before Levi departed.

He gave them the finger.

-

Levi never asks you whether you're free, so you were rather anxious. Your dying crush on your captain asked you that question for the first time, and you replied in the affirmative. Why did you say Yes? Why did you readily acquiesce and now pay the price?!

Oh my, Sina walls. What's got into you?!

You have been pacing around for minutes after he ordered you to meet up in his office. You have attempted to divert your attention by looking at anything in his office to calm yourself, but this isn't working. This isn't even functioning!

What is he going to do? Murder you? Asks you to clean the quarters from top to bottom? Clean horses? Kick Jean and Eren to stop them from fighting again? Do more paperwork? Ripped Erwin's bushy eyebrows at one point Levi told you he hates those?

You clutched your hair in exasperation, as though you wanted them to tear it out. The moment you saw him for the first time, you were infatuated. He is the most skilled soldier in humanity, a captain, an ackerman, a clean freak, and attractive. What else is there to desire in a man?

Oh lala, you are so in love!

On several occasions, you begged Mikasa for assistance in confessing Captain Levi Ackerman. Even though she's bored of you chatting about Levi for so long, she still wants to choke you with her red scarf.

She indeed helped yes and was very supportive calmly, but that one conversation still lingered in your mind that may or may not you despise her:

"If he has a short dick like his height, you choose the wrong man."

You picked the right one, man, hell! You always do; you know that. To boost your confidence even further, he is the ideal man you have been looking for! You choose him the first you lay eyes on that gorgeous face, and you're not backing down.

At last, you took a exhaled deeply, and let everything out. You must maintain your composure. When Levi arrives at this office, you follow his instructions as always.

Click.

Looking up to see Levi enters the office, your jaw drops to the floor. Your eyes bulge in shock at the scene unfold. What the fuck?

Levi has chocolate with a teddy bear and the largest bouquet of flowers. He handed you the flowers and set the chocolate and teddy bear on the desk, facing you. Holding on to them as your arms nearly give out from the weight.

"Wh-What I am gonna do with these flowers, sir? P-put them in your vase?" You stammered your words to your shock Levi shakes his head.

"Not put them in the vase, is for you." He says, crossing his arms as your eyes wide in shock. For you? This all for you?!

"Sorry, what?" You blink at him. Levi scoffs as he looks away, a red hue across his cheeks and his eyebrows furrowered. "For me?"

"Yes, for you." Levi begins, "I have to fight a rich guy from the flower shop, saying he doesn't care if I am a captain or humanity's strongest; he needs those flowers for his girlfriend."

You are stunned at your spot. Your blood reached to your cheeks, and you tried to let out some words, but it got stuck in your throat. Is this.. something you'd been dreaming about? Levi confessing to you? Or this is something else.

"You don't have to fight—"

Levi cuts you off with his hand. "He's rich fucker, and he can get what he wants. To me, that's well spent money. Do you not like it? I also bought chocolate and teddy for you."

You nodded at him and swallowed as you looked at the flowers. They are lovely, fresh from the roots, and their scent is delightful. They are also well maintained. This was completely unexpected; in fact, it's more akin to a startling turn of events!

"Why give it to me?" You asks, placing the boquet on the floor. "I don't... I.."

"You deserves it," Levi says pocketing his hands as he looks at his boots. This is is now or never, "Is because I like you."

You were absolutely shocked! You felt the time was frozen in place upon hearing what he just said. You have to make sure this is true, not some sick joke.

"I'm sorry repeat that?"

Levi gave a tch sound, his brows twitch as his face redden deeply. Oh Lord, are you deaf? It felt like torture to say it again, "I like you, brat. Have you not heard it the first time I'd said it?"

Silence fell. Your lack of response made Levi feel nauseous. He was mentally cursing himself from the inside out while you stood there in a state of dumbfoundedness. He shouldn't have spoken or done these things because he felt worse right now. Fortunately, he has a window in his office, so he can jump out of it and leave if things go badly or simply leave his office without speaking to you.

No, that would be rude.

Finally after a while, Levi's face washed up in relief and glint of happiness from his silver eyes: "I like you too."

You felt lighter and as though a load had been lifted when you uttered that. You were so joyful that you thought you were in heaven. You like him, and he likes you too.

"Since when?" You asks.

"Since the day I have my eyes on you."

Oh, you two were on the same boat.

"Same here."

Levi smiled warmly at you, and you thought you had won the lottery because it was the first time he had ever smiled, much less for you and you alone.

You were the luckiest person alive, and thank the walls you have crushed on Levi; if not, then this poor man will go to shambles. Who doesn't want to have a crush on Levi?

As Levi took your hand in his, he entwined his fingers and pressed his lips to your knuckles, sealing the two of you together.

"Then we can get marry after?" Levi looks at you with his warm, soften eyes.

Thank to the wall again!

You wheeze, kissing his knuckles as well. "It's too soon, Levi. Once the titan dissapeared from this world, then we'll get married."

And Levi never felt more happier from that.

-----

You can find them on ao3

Happy readings!!