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deathbyday · 4 months ago

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-'⁠🫧*⁠.⁠✧ MOUTHWASHING ✧.⁠*⁠🫧'⁠ -

“How could we end up here…?”

Daisuke x implied F!Reader

f/c - favorite color

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Written By: DeathByDay

(Also written on Mobile)

————

A FEW WEEKS LATER

You’ve made conversations and friends along the way, which you were surprised by. Anya is hard to read along with Swansea, but she’s more distant than anyone you’ve ever met. Somehow, you two make a good duo nonetheless.

Swansea honestly didn’t like you all that much, but it was obvious he didn’t despise you either. You two normally hung out when it was break time or whenever he wasn’t busy. Usually, Daisuke hung around you two as well.

One reason is because he’s literally Swansea’s intern, and the other reason is because you suspect he might have a teeny tiny little crush on you. It’s probably nothing, though. Other than the fact he always asks hows your day going and makes sure you’re doing well. But that’s what friends do, right?

You laid silently in your bed, the thin blanket covering your body being your only source of warmth. You haven’t been able to fall asleep early, which has been causing you to wake up at 6:35am almost everyday, meaning you had to hear Jimmy complain about you not being awake on time at 6 in the goddamn morning.

You know he’s just trying to look out for you, but not even the captain cares about it that much. Yes, he has mentioned you waking up ‘late’ once or twice, but never full on lectured you about it like Jimmy has.

You groan, sitting up along the headboard. At this point, you’re desperate for a device of some sort. Like a phone or an iPad. You want to get sucked into some video game that’ll make the time pass by so much faster then it is right now. Suddenly, you perk up, realizing Daisuke may have a Gameboy that he brung with him.

You turn your head to the digital clock that sat right beside your bed, the numbers reading 10:36pm. You and the other crew mates weren’t allowed to be out of the sleeping quarters after 9:30, but nobody cares for that rule. Along side that, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest anytime soon, so what’s the point of just sitting around?

You decide to sneak around the Tulpar and ask Daisuke if you could borrow his Gameboy for the night before returning to your own room. That way nobody would know you were walking around. Then when you see him in the morning, you’ll return the device. It’ll be like nothing even happened!

You set your plan into motion, standing up and heading towards the door. You made sure you don’t like you’re as exhausted as you actually are by covering yourself up with a f/c sweatshirt and pulling the hood over your head, which protected yourself from the cold and kept your eye bags out of sight. You walked outside your room, keeping your steps light.

You passed by Anya’s room, holding your breath as you did so. But you almost let out a gasp as you heard a voice coming from her room that wasn’t hers. You recognized that voice almost immediately. It was Jimmy’s.

You hurried towards Daisuke’s room, a bit too scared to press your ear to the door and listen to what they’re talking about. You ignore the sick feeling in your stomach to turn back, not knowing if it was as serious as what you were thinking. You made a mental note to ask Anya about it soon.

You finally came across Daisuke’s door and gently knocked three times, hoping that he was still awake. Luckily enough, he was. You heard his footsteps get louder before the door opens, revealing the guy you’ve been looking for. You tiredly smile up at him, seeing his confused expression.

“Oh, Y/N! What’s up?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper. He stared down at you, waiting for your response. You played with your fingers, suddenly becoming too anxious to ask about his Gameboy. You swallowed the saliva that traveled to the front of your throat, rethinking your actions.

“Daisuke.. you have a Gameboy, right?” You asked, glancing up at him. He nods, possibly figuring out what you were about to ask. “This is kind of a bad time but.. I’m playing on it right now. Do you wanna wait for it? Or would you like to watch me?” Both of your eyes seem to light up at the thought of the two of you giggling like little kids, watching him play on his device.

“I’ll watch you!” You don’t seem as anxious anymore and it’s showing. He widens his door, allowing you to walk in. He shuts it, watching you with a soft gaze as you glance around his room. Like Anya’s, it wasn’t too neat but it wasn’t dirty either. You ultimately assume everyone else’s room is the same.

Just a few minutes later, you found yourself curled up beside the brunette, your hands gripping his clothed arm, the two of you watching him play Tetris. You were surprised at how good he is, knowing you’ve never gotten past your 14,051 highscore. You yawned, breaking the comforting silence between you two.

You subconsciously snuggled closer, feeling your eyelids get heavier each time you shut them. Daisuke chuckles, pausing the game before patting your head playfully. “You getting tired already?” He teases, setting his device down. You grumble, rolling your eyes as you look up at him. “Yeah, yeah.. at least I’m not going to sleep so late.” You retort, sniffling before lying your head on his shoulder.

“Do you think we would get in trouble if I stay here for the night? I mean, I heard Jimmy’s voice in Anya’s room, so it should be fine, right?” You ask, looking up at him with exhaustion. You could honestly pass out any second if you stayed in this position.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about that. Just get some sleep.” He would be lying if he didn’t say his face was flustered by how close you were to him. You immediately obey, wrapping your arms around his waist, your head laying on the side of his chest. You shut your eyes, ignoring how your heart is beating faster.

Daisuke’s right arm wrapped around your figure, his head lying on his pillow. He shuts his eyes, feeling the exhaustion finally catch up to him. The mixture of his soft snores and your breathing comforted the two of you in a way that couldn’t be explained.

You just couldn’t believe you were sleeping in the arms of a friend. But.. could you even call him that now..?

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Getting in trouble for being in the same bed as your best friend was expected, but you didn’t expect his boss to be the one finding you two. The sad thing is, Swansea didn’t even knock. He just barged in and saw the two of you asleep, arms wrapped around each other and assumed the worst.

Both of you got lectured on how sleeping together was inappropriate. But then, Swansea leaned over the desk and whispered something that surprised you.

“Hey, now I’m not one to judge about that sort of stuff. And honestly, I couldn’t care less what you guys do. As long as you two keep it quiet while I’m trying to sleep, then by all means, go ahead.” He reassured.

You both stared at him in disbelief, not knowing that those were the words that would ever come out of that man’s mouth. You shook your head, brows furrowed upwards. Daisuke’s eyes were wide, cheeks flustered in embarrassment.

“T-..I’m sorry?” You tilted your head, wondering if you even heard him correctly. He shrugged it off as quick as he brought it up, letting you two deal with the new found information. You turned your head towards the blushing male, giving him a soft smile, trying to ease the tension in the room.

“Well, that was something!” You giggle, forcing the embarrassment down your throat. Daisuke nods, his face still beet red. You would tease him, but you know your face is the same color. Swansea motioned for the two of you to get out, and you both quickly did so.

You avoided eye contact with Daisuke as he did the same with you, clearly too scared to bring what just happened up. You both just stand there, not saying anything for a few moments. That was until you finally sighed and became brave enough to speak.

“Daisuke, I-I’m really sorry.. I should’ve never even thought of coming by your room.” You attempt to take blame, the redness in your cheeks calming down as you stared at the ground in shame. After all, it was your fault Swansea found out about the two of you sleeping together. You’re just glad he promised you he wouldn’t tell anyone, especially the captain.

He immediately turned his head towards you, eyes wide as he let what you said sink in. You taking the blame for something that was ultimately his fault? No way! “Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong!” He shook his head, his face finally turning back to its original color.

“I was the one who let you in my room in the first place. I should’ve been thinking more clearly. Don’t take blame for something that was my fault.” He stated, his expression calm as he spoke. He presses the palm of his hand on your shoulder in attempt to comfort you. You glance up at him, a smile glazing your lips.

“Are you sure? You know I’ll take responsibility if Swansea ever slips up and says something, right?” You question, not wanting him to regret his choice later on. Daisuke gives you a confident nod, making you playfully sigh in defeat.

You giggle, placing your hand on top of his own that laid on your shoulder. You unconsciously step closer to him before wrapping your arms around him, pulling the male into a tight hug.

It took him a few seconds to process what was happening, but he slowly hugged you back, his chin on top of your head. You both stayed there, comforted by the silence that surrounded you two.

“I guess I can’t change your mind, huh?” Your voice was muffled due to your face being buried into his collar. You felt his body shake lightly, a chuckle escaping his throat. “No, you really can’t.” He confirmed, tightening his hold on you. It was like he was trying to protect you from something.

————

You watched from afar as Jimmy, Swansea, Daisuke, and Anya played the famous board game, Sorry!. You sat alone on the rock hard chair, sitting at the lounge table in the middle of the room. You wanted to get closer, yes, but you were still hesitant of being near Jimmy.

He just seems off to you. In a bad way this time. You shake it off, thinking you were just overreacting over a little thing. Maybe he wasn’t a bad guy at all and you were making up scenarios. But, it’s always better to be safe then-

“Sorry!” Swansea’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, making you jump as he shouts. He weakly chuckles as Daisuke groans, grabbing his game piece and placing it in another spot.

You light heartedly smile, pushing away the unsettling feelings of Jimmy and focusing on the positive. You really don’t have anything to worry about besides the job, of course. But that was easy. All you had to do was take notes and give reports on what’s happening to whoever would listen.

You drown out the groups laughter and get up from your seat, slipping out of the room unknowingly. The last thing you would want to do is draw attention to yourself. You walked through the skinny halls, wondering what hard material they were made out of. Iron? Possibly. Definitely not wood, though..

You suddenly bump into someone’s chest, causing you to look up at them and immediately apologize. You knew who you bumped into. Captain Curly. You weren’t that dumb. He chuckles deeply before waving you off like a little kid. “It’s alright, nothing to apologize for.” He reassured you, patting your head gently.

You stepped around him, watching over your shoulder as you continued walking to see if he would look back at you or not. He didn’t. All he did was continue along the path you came from like nothing happened. You released a sigh that you didn’t know you were holding.

You just know if you bumped into Jimmy, he would lecture you until midnight. No wonder Captain Curly’s the captain. You would probably end up going crazy if Jimmy wasn’t the second in command, but instead taking his friends position. Just thinking about it sends chills down your spine.

You continued walking until you got to the sleeping quarters. Going into your room, you shut the door behind you and looking at the digital clock. 7:28pm. You realize you should report back to the lounge area, knowing dinner is about to be served. That’s probably where Captain Curly was heading before you bumped into him.

You felt your face heating up, remembering the awkward situation you just had a few minutes ago. You take deep breaths before looking in the mirror beside your door, checking to see if you could see any redness. Luckily enough, you couldn’t.

You flattened down your suit, making sure you couldn’t tell there were any wrinkles before smoothing it down. You took a deep breath in then exhaled, opening your door and finally walking back to where you came from. You weren’t that excited about dinner being served, though. It was usually always the same meal every time, which was soup.

You didn’t know what the ingredients were to making it, and you’d rather not know. It looked like it was made from sewer water. Some days the liquid tasted better than the day before, other days it tasted worse. It was a 50/50 chance.

A few minutes later, you found yourself walking through the door. The quad was finishing up their game. You could tell who was about to win and who wasn’t just by looking at their faces. You turn your head to see Captain Curly laying the bowls down, placing plastic spoons beside them.

You walked up to him, grabbing napkins for the crew. As you did so, you attempted to make small talk. “So, Captain, are you gonna join us for dinner?” You glanced in his direction, setting the cloths down next to the bowls and spoons laid down.

Captain Curly nods before placing the last bowl and spoon down, turning to you. “Yeah, I will be. But not for long, I gotta get back to make sure we aren’t hitting any asteroids.” You hum in realization, forgetting all about that asteroid stuff.

Just last week you all almost crashed the Tulpar into an asteroid. Luckily Captain Curly managed to steer the ship away before you all got smashed. Hopefully that would never happen again. It’s very unlikely that it would, anyway.

“That’s understandable. At least you can be here with us for a little bit!” You tried to make light of the situation, wanting to forget your almost deathly experience.

The quad finished up their game, Daisuke pumping his fists into the air. Swansea and Jimmy had stern looks on their faces, upset by the loss. But Anya looked like she wanted to strangle Daisuke to death. You all sat down, Captain Curly grabbing the pot of soup for you all.

Sitting beside you sat Anya. Jimmy sat on one side of the table, the captain about to sit down at the other. Daisuke sat across from you, Swansea beside him. Your brows creasing as you turned your head towards Anya, who shot daggers in Daisuke’s direction. You place the palm of your hand on her shoulder in attempt to comfort her.

“Intense game?” You ask, glancing towards each of the three brunette males. Jimmy and Swansea nodded while Daisuke gave you a thumbs up, a dorky grin plastered across his lips. It was obvious he was happy he won.

“Time to eat!” Captain Curly announced, setting the pot of soup down in the middle of the table. Everyone took turns scooping the liquid into their bowls, being patient for once. Once everyone finished, you hesitated before dipping your spoon into your own bowl and bringing it to your mouth.

“Thank you, Captain Curly.” Mutters from everyone came after one another before continuing to sip the soup. It didn’t take long for everyone to start to finish their dish, seeing as it was only a liquid to be drank.

As everybody continued finishing up, the captain excused himself to go back and hide in his quarters for the night. He bid you all goodbye before walking out of the room, the automatic doors shutting behind him. Jimmy was the second to go. Then it was Swansea and Daisuke, who ended up finishing at the same time. Lastly, it was just you and Anya.

You decided it was a good time to ask about what you heard last night in her room. You haven’t brung it up to anyone else besides Daisuke, not knowing if she would even want you to mention it or not. So, you didn’t.

“Hey, Anya?” You tilt turn your head her way, a curious expression glazing over your face. She glances at your direction, waiting to see what you had to say. “I, uh.. I heard a man’s voice in your room last night. I think it was Jimmy’s. What’s up with you two?” As soon as that question left your lips, her eyes went wide and her face turned pale.

You immediately perk up, not knowing that it would be such a sensitive topic to her. “Oh! I’m sorry, forget I said anything. I didn’t mean to upset you..” You attempt to reassure her, knowing the damage was already done. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll keep my mouth shut.” You knew you were lying. You literally told Daisuke last night. Of course she didn’t need to know that, though.

She swallowed hard, shaking her head as to tell you it’s alright. “N-No, you don’t need to be sorry. It’s just..” She hesitates, realizing she would just put more weight onto your shoulders if she told you what’s wrong.

“Never mind, you don’t need to worry about me. Him and I are just very close, that’s all.” Anya doesn’t give you a very convincing smile as she speaks, but you knew better than to push her.

You nod along, deciding to leave it up to her if she wants to tell you the truth or not. You knew deep down she was lying, but you don’t see a reason to force the real answer out of her. “You know I’ll always be here for you, right? Even though you’re our nurse and you know about all that depressive stuff, I still wanna make sure you’re okay.”

As you mumble, you leaned over and gave the woman a gentle hug, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. She stayed silent, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She quickly hugged you back, hiding her face in your neck. It doesn’t take a genius to realize she was crying. You stand up, whispering praises into her ears before shushing her.

“It’s okay, shh.. I’m here. You’re safe with me.” You rock her side to side, placing one hand on her head and gently playing with her dark hair. A few moments later she calmed down, her tears drying up on your suit. She continued to hug you, not wanting to let go.

“Jim’s just an asshole. I’m not sure what he’s done to you, but it clearly messed you up.” You state the obvious, curling your fingers in her hair. Anya sniffles, nodding her head in the crook of your neck as a response. “Do you wanna go to bed? I could walk you to your room if you want.” You release her from the hug, your hands gripping her clothed biceps as you stare into her eyes.

“Yeah. T-That would be nice.” She agrees, covering her face with her hands, wiping away the tears from her eyes. You nod, letting go of her arms and guiding one of her hands off her face to hold it. You help her stand, making sure she could stable herself before starting to walk towards the sleeping quarters.

Before you two left, you glanced up at the clock on the wall. 8:34. You let out a sigh, thankful that it hasn’t passed 9 yet. You grip Anya’s hand, your thumb gliding across her knuckles. Before you knew it, you both stood in front of her bedroom door. You turned back, letting her hand go. “I’ll get going now, ya? Sleep well, Anya.”

You grin, giving her one last tight hug before finally walking away. You heard the door open and close, letting you silently know she was safe in the comfort of her room. You didn’t know if Jimmy would go to her room ever again, but you’re praying that he wouldn’t.

You walk down the hall and head towards Daisuke’s room. As long as you don’t get caught by Jimmy, you doubt anyone else would care if you were in there. In all honesty, you missed his arms around you all day. Hopefully you both could end up in that same position tonight.

Or maybe he would be in your arms. Who knows?

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author’s note

MY POOR BABY ANYA😭😭 I had to add at least one moment of reader comforting her, I couldn’t resist. on a completely different note, I’m proud of myself for the ‘take responsibility’ line. even though it wasn’t creative, just let me be happy💔

next chapter will be out in a few days!! hope ya had fun reading! bye for now!! <33

#mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke x reader mouthwashing #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing game #indie games #horror games #x reader #writers on tumblr

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hanahaki270 · 11 months ago

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♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ “You Belong to Me” ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

・❥・ Synopsis ・❥・ Having an Uchiha as an ex doesn’t mean anything. Once you’ve managed to make them fall for you, you’re basically stuck with them for eternity.

・❥・ Pairing ・❥・ Sasuke x Fem!reader

・❥・ A/N ・❥・ I finally decided to continue watching shippuden after having it on pause for 5 years.. yeahhh so I’m having a huge obsession with it rn. Also please feel free to send prompt requests for me to write! And I feel like I definitely could have written this out better but I was in a rush and stressed out about Job interviews so mb

♥︎

You finally gathered the courage within you to end your relationship with Sasuke. This wasn’t an easy decision. In fact it was tearing you apart. You still loved him. But the differences between your priorities and his were far too different to the point where they were conflicting with each other.

You might as well have been talking to a wall that day with how blank his expression was after you just announced how you were breaking up with him. The loud silence was killing you inside, does he not care at all?

♥︎

-You wanting to break up with him was like a jab at his ego. The Sasuke Uchiha. The last prodigy of his clan and you wanted to leave him? Though this enraged him, he refused to let you know it. He couldn’t let you have the satisfaction of knowing that this actually affected him.

-After you left the apartment he started to completely trash the place. Everything in it was obliterated into nothingness. But as soon as he went out in public he acted completely fine as if nothing happened.

-Anytime you were around he would make sure you saw him with other girls. He wanted to show you that he could be with anybody he desired without a problem, at any given second. Show you that you weren’t nothing special to him.

-He was lying. Because as soon as you left his vision he treated the girls like shit and pushed them aside after they served their purpose in making you jealous.

-He tried to sleep with random women in the village to further prove that he didn’t need you. (He was really just trying to convince himself) but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. None of them even compared to your beauty. Even the thought of another person lying on the bed you two once shared disgusted him.

-After weeks of this even Sasuke couldn’t believe his own facade. He craved you. He craved your smile, your laughter, Your touch. And is willing to do whatever it takes to remind you that you belong with him.

-He sucked up his pride and begged Naruto to send you two on missions together. So you’d be basically forced to talk to each other . (Naruto uses this against him every now and then)

-During one of the missions, one of your comrades decide to get a little touchy with you. You pay this no mind since you have no interest in the guy, but Sasuke definitely notices it. What’s a worthless ninja doing talking to what’s his?

-A couple of days after that mission, the scenario of another man getting that close to you haunted Sasuke day and night. There’s no way in hell you’d ever willingly decide to be with any other man but him. Right? He needed the reassurance and he needed it now.

-It was 4 am when you opened the door to your apartment after you were awoken by loud desperate banging on the door just to be faced with your ex. He invited himself in, closing the door behind him as he slowly crept towards you.

“Sasuke?”

-He reached for your hand and held it in his, as he focused on you as if there was nothing else in this world. You could tell he developed dark circles since the last time you saw him.

“The day we got together was the day I chose you to be the one I repopulate my clan with. The only one worthy of the surname Uchiha. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

-He noticed how you were at a loss of words so he took this moment to do what he’s been yearning to. He grabbed the back of your head pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was messy and desperate. He kissed you as if you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. And to him, you were.

-Needless to say you were vulnerable to his request and took him back. How could you not?

♥︎

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narnian-neverlander · 2 months ago

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One of the Fools [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Preview: You don’t miss the way he slightly, unconsciously, taps his cane against his bad leg and your heart shatters. Running your thumb over the back of his hand, you swallow any remaining self pity and instead focus on trying to at least give him some comfort and stop him from spiraling any further. “That’s ridiculous. I love being with you; it doesn’t matter wether people are watching or not.” He scoffs. “Of course it matters. The way people perceive me will rub off on how they perceive you. I can keep a distance as your friend, but as your lover? Please. You shouldn’t have to put up with the ridicule that would come along with it.”

Genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, smut

Word Count: 11,2k (I don’t know how this happened, I’m so sorry)

Warnings: self loathing, internalized ableism, mentions of human trafficking, slight smut (not super descriptive, but not subtle either)

This is part of a series of stand alone One-Shots that all feature the same reader, you can find the masterlist here :3

A/N: I originally planned on a fade to black with the smut, but I’m feral for this man so have this instead. This is also the most christmas-y thing you’ll ever get from me, so merry early crisis I guess ✨

What are you so scared of?

It’s the same question you arrive at over and over again as you pace the length of your kitchen, teeth bruising your cuticles, mind racing.

What if you asked him out on a date? Told him you’re head over heels in love with him?

What’s the worst that could happen?

Rejection. Deep down you know that’s it. Of him not wanting the love you’re offering, not wanting you, all of you.

Would he though?

All evidence to the contrary, if you’re truly being honest with yourself. And if you dare believe Jayce.

You’ll never know unless you actually tell him.

Uncomfortable, but true. Not to mention you aren’t sure you can keep it a secret from him for much longer. That dance after the gala had been the closest you’d been to crossing the line. And while you’d decided against it on that particular evening, part of you regrets that. Part of you had wanted to finally confess. To finally know. The fear had won that night, but you’re oh so tired of being scared. Of pretending that what you two currently have is enough.

Groaning, you scrub your hands over your face in irritation, your pacing coming to a stop to stare at the solution to all your troubles: two small, rectangular pieces of cardboard on your kitchen table. You pick them up, the light in your apartment making the gold lettering shimmer. It reminds you of the way Viktor’s eyes light up anytime he talks about something he’s passionate about.

Fuck it. Now or never.

The next day at about noon, you enter academy grounds, your solution safely tucked into a pocket inside your heavy winter coat. Luckily enough, you arrive just in time to have a student holding the door open for you, your own hands full with bags of food, and you quickly thank her as you duck inside.

You’ll never know how these two managed without you; they might be certified geniuses, but they’re both absolutely piss poor at taking care of themselves. Like remembering to eat. So over time, a mutually beneficial, symbiotic relationship had developed: you keep them from accidentally starving themselves and they play guinea pigs for your new recipes in return. Not to mention gossip about the Hextech pioneers frequenting your restaurant hadn’t exactly hurt your business.

You encounter the same problem from earlier in the form of a different closed door when you reach the lab; a shortlived problem when said door opens so rapidly it almost smacks you in the face and what happens next is mostly a blur, but you’re fairly certain you just watched Jayce sprint past you with something in his arms that was definitely smoking. Maybe still burning, you can’t be sure. Peeking your head through the open archway, just to make sure you’re not about to walk into a fire hazard, you only find Viktor at the open windows, coughing terribly and trying to wave remnants of thick black smoke outside.

“You know this is exactly why I don’t let either one of you anywhere near my kitchen, right?” you state matter-of-factly as you place your bags on one of the desks, making your friend jump in alarm. Try as you might to suppress it, a highly amused snicker leaves your lips as you take in the state of him: face covered in soot, hair an absolute mess and parts of his clothes singed. Still giggling, you unwrap the dish towel from one of the containers you brought and hold it out to him. “A wise choice, evidently.” he groans, trying to clean himself up as much as the current circumstances would allow. It’s… a hopeless cause, really, and with a click of your tongue you snatch the towel back from him and before he can protest, grab his chin with your other hand. He stills immediately, blinking at you in surprise with big eyes that seem all the brighter than usual in direct comparison to his dirty face. Heat creeps up your cheeks under his intense gaze, but you try to ignore it and focus on the task at hand. “There, that’s as good as it’s gonna get. Probably. You should take a shower before going back out into public, though.”

“There’s plenty of public between here and my shower.” he remarks, which earns him a deadpan “So go home when it’s dark.” He tries to make a grab for you, smear some of the soot on your own face in retaliation, but you manage to avoid him and get out of his reach all together just in time. “Please, like you ever go home before that anyways. When did you last see actual sunlight?” You immediately know you won’t like what comes out of his mouth next, with the all-knowing smirk forming on his face. He throws a thumb over his shoulder at the open windows, rays of sunlight filtering into the room, breaking up the remaining bits of smoke. “Right now.”

Your mumbled ‘Oh for the love of—‘ is so quiet, you don’t expect him to hear it, but he does and the bastard actually has the audacity to laugh at you. And you can’t possibly stay mad at him while he’s laughing, not when it’s one of your favorite sounds in the whole world. So you just roll your eyes and busy yourself with unpacking the rest of the lunch you brought while he makes his way over to the blackboard and starts erasing and rewriting a huge chunk of calculations, presumably to avoid the same mistake happening again. Hopefully.

Finally shrugging out of your coat and placing it over a nearby chair, you catch a glimpse of gold letters on dark blue cardboard and immediately feel your palms get sweaty. Right. You came here for a reason. “Hey, Vik? You, uh… you got a minute? I wanted to talk to you about something.” A quick look over his shoulder at you, a small smile, a teasing glint in his eyes and “For you? Always.” is all it takes for your heart to pick up speed. For your nerves to be replaced by something soothing and warm. For you to know that you’re doing the right thing and you never should’ve doubted it. So you snatch the cards out of your pocket and close the distance between you quickly as you explain.

“Well, you know how in preparation for Progress Day in a few weeks, Piltover is hosting expositions from pioneers out of all kinds of fields?” He nods, so you place the two tickets in your hand on the desk between you and he picks up one of them, studying the fine, shimmering cursive and ornate details. The card alone already looks like it cost a fortune, so he can’t even imagine what event it would grant one access to. “One of them is a traveling market. It’s mostly about food, but there’s merchants and inventors from all over the world all very conveniently put into the same space. And… And I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go there with me?” He’s quiet. Very quiet. Too quiet. And yet the way he’s still staring at the ticket in his hand with pinched brows tells you that the gears in his head are turning faster than you can keep up, so when he opens his mouth to respond, you beat him to it, anxiety back in full swing, forcing the words out of your mouth before you can think too much about any of this. “It’s… This is something I’ve been dreaming about for a long time. Worked my ass off for years to maybe get a chance to go there. It’s really important to me, so—“

“Then I definitely shouldn’t be the one to accompany you.”

The laugh you let out is soft, disbelieving. You must’ve heard him wrong, misunderstood him. “What?”

Denial.

“If it’s that important to you, you should take someone who’d be able to appreciate it the same way you can.”

There’s something hot and ugly that flares up in your chest. “Well, they’re my tickets and it’s my decision. And I’m asking you.”

Anger.

A sigh as he places the card down on the desk and turns back to the chalkboard. “And I appreciate that. But you said it yourself: Progress Day is coming up and we have plenty to do. And as you saw earlier it’s not going along quite as smoothly as we’d hoped.”

“The market isn’t just for a single day and the tickets are good for whenever. I’m sure you could take one day off…?”

Bargaining.

The way he says your name is gentle and hushed and you never thought it could pain you so much to hear him say it like that. “I’m grateful you thought of me, I truly am, but I’m just… now isn’t a good time for me to get distracted. Please just find someone else to take?” The look in his eyes is pleading, desperate almost. No, not desperate. Exasperated.

You’d told him that this was something incredibly precious to you and… and he simply doesn’t care. Or rather, he doesn’t care enough. About how much this means to you. About how much going with him would’ve meant to you. This wasn’t something akin to the violent, ridiculing rejection you’d envisioned this was… uninterested apathy, at best, bored annoyance at worst. And somehow that hurts on a different level entirely. A level you didn’t even know existed until now, as your heart feels like it’s collapsing in on itself.

Depression.

He’s not even looking at you anymore, back turned to you and busy with scrawling numbers in white chalk on the board again. Limbs heavy and shaky, you take your self imposed solution to your problem back and cradle the cards close to your chest. It had been a solution; it had given you clarity on where exactly you stood with him and it wasn’t where you thought. Getting dressed, you shuffle over to the door and leave him with “I’m sorry I bothered you with this. Won’t happen again.”

Acceptance.

The thud of the door closing seems to echo through the quiet lab too loudly, golden eyes immediately darting to where you just left. And Viktor bangs his head against the blackboard in front of him a few times as he sucks in a sharp breath.

Why didn’t he just say yes? He’d wanted to more than anything else in the world. The vile, little voices in the back of his head are quick to answer: ‘Because they deserve better than you. You know that.’

He does know that. It’s why he turned you down in the first place. It doesn’t make the pain that had been so clearly written all over your face at his rejection any easier to bear. But he picked this particular form of torture himself and now he has to live with it. You both do.

Meanwhile, you at least manage to make it to one of the exits before the first tears start falling and you stop in your tracks to wipe a sleeve over your eyes. Big mistake, you should’ve just left. A call of your name from down the hall and your head whips up to find Jayce waving and jogging towards you.

Shit. Fuck. Please no, not right now.

Pulling your scarf up over your nose, you try to hide as much of your face as you can in the short amount of time it takes him to reach you. “Done with the daily food delivery?” he jokes and you simply nod. “You’re a lifesaver. With Progress Day coming up we’re even busier than usual, you know.” He barely catches you mumbling ‘So I’ve been told’ into your scarf and the smile on his face slowly disappears. Something’s off. He figures a change of topic might help and gestures at your hand. “What’s that?”

The text on the tickets blurs just like the rest of your vision; they feel as heavy as your heart, dragging you down and making it hard to breathe. Just looking at the things makes you nauseous now. Blinking back the tears, you hold them out to him. “They’re a gift. For you. It’s a market in town for the Progress Day celebrations and supposedly it’s good fortune to visit it with your lover. If you’re the superstitious sort, I suppose. I figured maybe you could take Mel.”

He takes the cards from you and you immediately shove your hands into your pockets so he won’t get any ideas about handing them back. “That’s… really sweet? But wouldn’t you rather ask Viktor?” There’s a teasing edge to his tone, one you know all too well and normally you’d respond in kind; it’s a practiced dance between you two at this point. It seems today, you’ve forgotten the steps. “I did. He wasn’t interested.”

The double take he does might’ve been amusing, even comical, under any other circumstances, but it just adds insult to injury for you right now. So you bid him goodbye and flee out the door before he can even think about questioning you. Never one to leave well enough alone, Jayce just does the next best thing instead: make a beeline for the lab and question Viktor.

He finds his partner hunched over his notebook on a desk, in an at least somewhat cleaner state than he left him in, and immediately grabs the backrest of his stool to swivel him around, sending the pen in his hand flying in shock. He waves two all too familiar pieces of dark blue cardboard in front of Viktor. “Explain this to me?”

Confusion on his face, then resigned indifference in his tone; a clear sign that he’s already very done with this conversation. “You too? I did not think that was your kind of venue.” Jayce rolls his eyes in return. “They’re not mine. Guess who just gave these to me in the hall.” That brings his attention back on track. “That… that makes no sense. They were just in here telling me how going there has been a lifelong dream; why would they just give their tickets to you?”

The brunette straightens up and crosses his arms over his broad chest. “Why indeed. You tell me.” Viktor throws up his hands in bewilderment. “And how would I know? You talked to them last.” Jayce’s mouth is set in an irritated thin line as he shrugs. “And you were the one who talked to them last before they fled this building in tears.”

All the annoyance and grievance disappears at once, replaced by something much worse. Dread. Guilt. Downright horror.

You’d been crying?

“That’s not what I… I didn’t meant to—“

A heavy sigh from Jayce interrupts him. “I’m sure you didn’t. And I wasn’t here so I can’t know what happened. What I do know,” he starts and then hoists Viktor up from his seat, pressing his cane into his hand and tucking the tickets safely into his vest pocket. “Is that I’m not letting you back in the lab until you fix this.”

“What?! Jayce don’t be ridiculous.” he protests as his friend shoos him towards the exit. “Our presentation for Progress Day just blew up right in our faces; this is too much work for you alone, I need to—“ Another interruption, this time in the form of his own name and it makes him pause. The look on Jayce’s face is calm and determined and Viktor has learned by now that when he looks like that, he’s usually about to say something terribly important. Usually something terribly true as well, for better or for worse.

“You really hurt them this time, V. Unintentional, I know, but still.” Viktor flinches at that; not as unintentional as his partner might think. But he’d considered it a necessary evil for your own good. “You don’t do something… I don’t think they’re gonna come back. Is that what you want? A life without them in it?”

Viktor hates being right sometimes. Terribly important and terribly true. Exhaling sharply, he runs a hand through his hair and states “I… I’m not sure I can. Fix it, I mean.” He grabs his coat off the wall nonetheless. A slight upturn of the corner of Jayce’s mouth is the first sign of brevity since he’d entered the room. “You’re about to find out. But you’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t at least try.”

Shrugging on his coat, he tries very hard to look annoyed at his friend’s uninvited interference, but he knows he can’t fool the man opposite of him. “There are times when I can’t stand you being right, you are aware, yes?” The slight quirk of Jayce’s lips turns into a full blown, gap-toothed grin. “Nah, you love me and all my infinite wisdom. Now get outta here before I carry you to their doorstep myself.”

Viktor had managed to talk him out of that one, but now, a shower and a few hours later, alone in his apartment, he considers taking Jayce up on his offer after all. He couldn’t find the courage to go see you and now he’s sitting on his worn, little couch, watching the light slowly dwindle and die outside his windows and it all feels oh so awfully fitting. His floor is littered with crumpled up sheets of paper; when he hadn’t been able to formulate even one clear sentence in his mind, he’d decided writing out what he wanted to say to you might help. Except… he’s not sure what that even is.

‘I’m sorry, I think myself so utterly undeserving of you, I broke your heart before you could give it to me, please forgive me?’

Yeah. That would go over well.

Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, he reaches for the cup of coffee on his table, only for his hand to freeze halfway as he notices the corner of a book peeking out from under the mess of papers and he recognizes it as a tome you lent him for some light reading and ‘variety in his narrow minded palette’. Grabbing it instead, a dark blue cover with golden lettering stares back at him, the irony of the design not lost on him. It’s laughable, how the thing that’s gonna solve his dilemma looks almost exactly like the thing that started it. So he takes out a new sheet of paper, cracks open the book and gets to work. This would have to be perfect; if this would cost him another all nighter, so be it.

Next time you’re pulling an all-nighter… save me another dance?

The memory almost knocks the wind out of him and the hand furiously scribbling notes stills. He has to make this right. He’d beg and grovel and get on his knees if he had to, not for your forgiveness, he really doesn’t deserve that anyways, but to make you understand that you were never the problem in the first place. That you had done nothing wrong. It’s the very least you deserve.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Maybe you should’ve thought that one through a bit more thoroughly. But even if you had, this wouldn’t have made your list, you think.

It’s been almost a full day now since you fled the scene of the worst heartbreak of your life. You’d let your friend and head of staff know that you weren’t gonna come in today and then had just collapsed onto your couch. Grief and shame are suffocating you, weighing you down like lead; the bright, warm sunlight shining through your windows a stark contrast to your dark mood.

‘You should’ve seen this coming…’ the nasty voices in the back of your head whisper and they’re right. He’s grown tired of your company and why wouldn’t he? You’re disgustingly ordinary, especially compared to him, you always had been, even all the way back when you were both children. While he was busy with his newest invention, you were busy getting punched in the face because you’d gotten in over your head again. And yet he was always there to patch you back up and lighten your mood. The little mechanical cat he’d once built you to cheer you up still sits on your shelf, watching over you with eyes as gold as his own, though it’s gaze feels cruel and mocking today.

He’s been your rock, your light, your everything whenever he managed to be in your life and what do you have to offer in return? Some half decent food and the occasional witty banter? It’s a miracle he didn’t leave you behind for better things a long time ago. He should’ve. You’ve done nothing but drag him down and pull him away from more important matters, this is for the best.

A knock on your door distracts you from your self loathing momentarily; a knock you decisively ignore. Whoever it is can come back when you’re not busy hating yourself and wallowing in self pity. The person outside your apartment apparently has other ideas and knocks again. And again. And again. Groaning you roll off the couch and shuffle towards the unwelcome noise.

Maybe it’s Jayce, with your tickets in one hand and a bouquet of roses in the other, all dressed up and wanting to take you out just to lift your spirits, because you know you didn’t manage to hide your sorrows from him well enough. It’s something he’d do, bless his heart.

Opening your door, you find you’re half right: there’s flowers and your tickets and from what you can see peeking out from under his open winter coat, a nice vest with a fancy tie. But it’s not Jayce. And you have to blink dumbly several times to make sure you’re not seeing things. “What…” your voice is hoarse from disuse, so you clear your throat and straighten up a little in an all but useless attempt to seem a little more put together. “What are you doing here…?”

Oh. Oh he messed up this time.

Same clothes you left in yesterday, but rumpled and dishelved, hair a mess and dark circles under your puffy, red eyes. He’s never seen you so out of sorts and knowing it’s his fault almost makes his knees buckle under the weight of the guilt. His mouth is dry, but he forces the words out anyways. “I wanted to apologize.” Your answer is quicker than expected, concise but unsure. “For what?” He’d had it all prepared and planned out, but now that you’re here in front of him and he can see what his words did to you, his mind just goes blank. What if he says the wrong thing again? What if he makes things worse?

Watching him open and close his mouth in a desperate attempt to come up with something, you hold up your hand to stop him before he can utter a single word. “There’s nothing to apologize for.” He actually startles at that, offense all over his features, because “I beg to differ.”

A heavy sigh as you lean against your doorframe and run a hand through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face before you cross your arms over your chest. Might as well get the whole truth out there, it can’t get much worse. Not to mention you don’t expect to be seeing him again after today. “Listen, Vik— Viktor.” A small part of him withers and dies at the correction from the nickname you’ve been using since childhood to his full name. “I… I was actually trying to ask you out on a date, okay? Suffice to say, you’re definitely not interested. And t-that’s okay, I can’t force someone to love me after all. But I… I still would’ve liked to go together as friends, because this is really important to me and so… so are you. I guess I just overestimated my value in your life.”

What?

The blood in his veins turns to ice. That’s what you think? That’s what his well intentioned rejection of your offer had resulted in?

“It’s not a big deal, I get it.” you continue, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “I mean, I dunno why you stuck with me as long as you did. The free food shtick must get old pretty damn quick and I’ve really got nothing else going for me.” A laugh, bitter and self depreciating. “What would someone like you even want with someone as disgustingly ordinary as me.”

“Someone like me…?” he manages to breathe out, mind still reeling from even trying to comprehend what you’re implying. Disgustingly ordinary? Have you gone mad? Your scoff leaves him even more confused. “Someone brilliant. Handsome. Eloquent. Caring. Someone about to change the world. And I’m just… I’m just…”

Boring. Mundane. Inadequate. Worthless.

“Passionate. Witty. Kind. Wonderful. Absolutely perfect.”

You end up choking on your own spit, a noise akin to a dying engine forcing itself out of your throat; half whimper, half sob. What did he just say?

The bewilderment is completely gone from his face, replaced by a fierce determination, fire in in his eyes. “I think… I think there’s been enough talk for now. You should get dressed.” It’s your turn now to be utterly baffled. “Get dressed? Viktor, I’m not gonna—“

He says your name so softly, almost in reverence, you immediately clamp your mouth shut again. “I’m not going to let you miss something you’ve been dreaming about all your life on account of my mistake. You are under no obligation to grant me a chance to fix this, but I would still like to try. I will give you your tickets and leave, but please just promise me you’ll go?”

A cold breeze ruffles your hair, sounds of the nearby river and the bustle of people going about their lives lessening the quiet between you both as you stare at him, wide eyed and slack jawed. “Please?” he repeats, and something inside of you just breaks. No, it’s the opposite, you realize. Something is starting to put itself back together again.

You step aside and incline your head towards your apartment. “Well, get inside. I’m gonna need a minute and I’m not gonna leave you out here in the cold while you wait.” He shakes his head lightly, slowly backing away from your porch. “I shouldn’t. I don’t want to ruin—“ Catching his sleeve before he gets any further you drag him inside and close the door. “Having you around has never ruined anything for me, it only makes things better. Besides, you came all this way and these tickets were expensive.” It makes him feel even guiltier for a moment, but there’s the slightest teasing edge to your voice and the smallest of smiles on your lips, so he considers it worth it. “Alright. Take your time.”

Luckily, the venue for the market isn’t far from your home, because the silences between you two have never been awkward - until now. So you’re beyond relieved and elated when the entrance comes into view, giving you a distraction from the oppressing atmosphere. And you’re honestly a bit surprised at yourself; how quickly your mood lifts the moment you’re surrounded by your passion. Viktor’s watching you almost vibrate out of your skin in excitement as soon as you step through the archways leading into the square. It’s a miracle your head doesn’t snap off with how fast your gaze is turning in every direction, trying to take in everything at once. “Well? This is your playing ground. Lead the way.”

He spends the next hours watching you flit from vendor to vendor, stall to stall, person to person. He himself makes conversation with a few shop owners whose wares catch his attention just fine, but he’s much more interested in you. The way you light up at everything new presented to you. The way you’d actually looked offended and utterly flabbergasted when he’d asked why you weren’t buying anything, because ‘Vik, do you have any idea what it would cost to import these things on a regular basis?! I can’t incorporate that into my recipes, it would ruin me! Doesn’t mean I can’t try to replicate it though…’ And then you’d pulled a pen and a little, frayed notebook out of your pocket, mumbling to yourself as you continued to walk and scribble notes. You’re lost in your own little world and it’s absolutely charming and endearing.

The sun’s slowly starting to dip behind some of the tallest towers in the city, signaling the passage of time as you finish your talk with a man selling fruits from a tropical region. When you look around for your companion, you find him animatedly conversing with a vastaya two tables over and can’t help but grin. You knew he’d fit right in at this place; everyone here is as brilliant and passionate about their projects as he is, after all. When he catches you staring, he waves a little awkwardly, then bids goodbye to his conversation partner and starts to make his way over to you. And that’s when your smile falls, because you don’t miss the way he grimaces slightly. The way he leans on his cane a little heavier than usual. You’ve been up on your feet, walking around almost all day. In the freezing cold. You really are an imbecile.

The poor man actually startles when he reaches you and he doesn’t even get the chance to utter a single word, as he’s immediately hit with “I’m so sorry, Viktor! I know the cold’s awful for your leg, I know that, and yet I still insisted on dragging you along and I really didn’t think any of this through to the end.” You gesture at a nearby bench overlooking the river. “Please, go sit down and take a break, I’ll be right back!” And you’ve disappeared into the crowd before he can argue, so without much of a choice, he goes to sit over on the bench you indicated - he does, however, consider drowning himself in the river for a second. He settles for a hateful, disgusted glance at his aching leg instead.

You’d been so joyful and happy, no traces of the gloom and self loathing from earlier in the day left, and he’d reduced you to a frantic, worried mess. He knew he’d ruin this for you. He shouldn’t have come.

It takes you a good twenty minutes to find your way back to him, a cup of something steaming carefully balanced in your hands and a paper bag under your arm. Handing him the cup, you explain “I remembered seeing an apothecary here, but their stall was on the other end of the venue so it took me a minute. They said this blend’s good for chronic pain and should help quickly.” You don’t tell him about the bag of tea leaves of the exact same blend tucked into your inner coat pocket. Accepting the hot beverage with a small thanks, he takes a careful sip as you settle down next to him on the wooden bench. It’s the same horrendous, uncomfortable silence between you as earlier and you despise it. You’d felt as if you’d taken the first steps back towards normalcy in the last few hours and then you had to go and ruin it by not even being able to consider his wellbeing. You’re not able to do anything right, are you?

In dire need of a distraction from your own thoughts, you reach into the bag you brought for one of the treats you’d surprisingly found in the apothecary’s repertoire and as you spin the sweet chestnut between gloved fingers, the lights from the fair glinting off of it’s purple-ish blue shell, an idea strikes you like lightning. It’s not much, ridiculous and laughable even, but it’s worth a shot. Anything to make the air between you less suffocating.

“Hey, wanna see something cool?” When he nods, you strip off your gloves and peel off the thin shell, grinding it to dust as finely as you manage between your palms. Opening them a fraction, you blow into your hands and scatter the remainders into the evening sky; floating and glittery lights in purple and blue, like you’d just created a tiny galaxy between your hands.

“Astonishing…” he whispers, completely spellbound as the last of your self made stars is taken away by the breeze that blows past you.

Shrugging, you state “Its just a little parlor trick. It wouldn’t impress anyone at a fancy Piltover gala, I’m sure.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, it’s a chemical reaction; the oils from your hands they—“

His laugh cuts you off, genuine and clear, as he shakes his head. “No, no, I meant I don’t understand why you always do this. You show me something incredible and then you… belittle it so terribly.” Your features scrunch up in disdain as you disagree. “I’m not belittling anything; this isn’t anything special, it’s—“

“Really?” he interrupts and puts a finger to his chin in mock thought. “I wouldn’t have known to do that. Neither would Jayce. Or anyone at one of those ‘fancy Piltover galas’, I assure you.” He sees you open your mouth and he knows you’d end up protesting yet again so he simply keeps talking. “I spent the last few hours watching you come up with recipes and herbal remedies on the spot, like it’s as natural and easy as breathing to you. You talked about ingredients and spices I can’t even pronounce, much less remember the uses of. You chatted up complete strangers like you’d known them for years and they immediately treated you like family in return. This is exactly why I wanted to come here, to quite literally put you into your area of expertise, before we continued our talk; you can not deny your own accomplishments when they’ve literally just happened. I wanted to prove to yourself that you are not… lesser than me. Lesser than anyone. That you are not… how did you put it? ‘Disgustingly ordinary’? You’re far from it. To me, if nothing else, even though I know it’s not much.” He reaches out with a careful, gloved hand to wipe away the tears you hadn’t even realized were there. “You’re passionate and resilient about everything you put your heart to, you’ve got a mind and tongue so sharp you give most people at the academy a run for their money, you remain kind and open hearted despite all the hardships you’ve had to endure - how could I not respect and rever that? How I could not love that? How could I not love you? All of you?”

A sob manages to wrench itself out of your throat and his heart breaks when the first word out of your mouth is a ‘but’.

“B-but I distract you, and I mess things up and I-I’m not always useful to you and—“

“That’s not what love is supposed to be.”

“It is in my experience...” you whisper and remove his hand from your cheek as you carefully mull over your next move. Wiping a sleeve over your eyes, you get up and offer him your hand. “Come on. I’m starting to freeze and honestly I’d rather not have a breakdown in the middle of a crowded square. Let’s walk and talk?”

A safe distance away from the people and the hustle and bustle, you still haven’t let go off the hand he’d given you. Not that he seems to mind. Good. The contact grounds you as you try to find the right words to continue this difficult conversation.

“My dad… he chose me. Saved me from a pretty bad time in my life. So I always tried to be useful; useful for him, for the restaurant. Because if I stopped being useful, then… maybe he wouldn’t want me anymore. Maybe he’d leave me behind for something better. Cause maybe if I’d been more useful, my birth parents wouldn’t have sold me. The first people in my life who were supposed to love me unconditionally and they just… couldn’t. Wouldn’t. So I guess I just never saw how anyone else would be able to.”

A squeeze of your intertwined hands is all you need to find the courage to keep going.

“I know how to love others, I can do that. What I don’t know is how to let myself be loved in return? I always attach all these rules and requirements to it that are impossible to keep up with and I know I’m only sabotaging myself but—“ Another sob, and you just decide to stop talking and to take some deep, slow breaths instead so you won’t have a full meltdown in public, even if the street you’re currently on is fairly empty.

Viktor keeps the one hand you have a hold of right where it is, gently bringing you to a halt. “You deserve to be loved not because of your contributions, but for you, without any rules or requirements. You are worth more than what you can give to other people.” An inelegant snort leaves you as you give him a look that’s a tad more judgmental than strictly necessary. “Sweet, but a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?” When he doesn’t answer you simply raise your brows and purse your lips, you know he understands what you’re talking about; while your situations are different, he’s as hopeless as you are in regards to the way he perceives himself. A sigh, his shoulders slump and his gaze wanders out across the river, the sun’s last rays reflecting off the water’s surface.

“I initially turned you down specifically because this is important to you. Because this is a place where you get to shine and be proud of yourself and I didn’t want to… taint that. It occurs to me I never actually apologized to you, because while my rejection might’ve been well-intentioned, I still hurt you and I am sorry for that. And while I want to say it came from a place of love and care for you that would only be a partial truth. The truth is that I simply don’t think I belong in the light that you bring with you anymore than I belong in the lights up on stage with Jayce. Where everything is bright and people will… see. See me, standing beside people who could, should, clearly do better for themselves.”

You don’t miss the way he slightly, unconsciously, taps his cane against his bad leg and your heart shatters. Running your thumb over the back of his hand, you swallow any remaining self pity and instead focus on trying to at least give him some comfort and stop him from spiraling any further. “That’s ridiculous. I love being with you; it doesn’t matter wether people are watching or not.” He scoffs. “Of course it matters. The way people perceive me will rub off on how they perceive you. I can keep a distance as your friend, but as your lover? Please. You shouldn’t have to put up with the ridicule that would come along with it.”

“I don’t care how other people see me. Or you. Or us. I care how you see yourself.” Cupping his cheek with your free hand, you coax him to look at you and the affection that’s clearly written all over your face threatens to force the tears burning behind his eyes to spill. “And Gods I wish you could see yourself the way I do. That you could see the man I love so much, cause I think you’d like him, actually. He always puts his heart and soul into everything he does. He’s constantly working to try and make the world a better place, even at the cost of his own health. I’m proud of him, but I wish he’d stop that, to be honest.” A weak chuckle from his side, accompanied by a few stray tears. “He’s the only person I’ve met who can keep up with me in a battle of wits, he’s even managed to leave me speechless several times, but don’t tell him that, it’ll only go to his head. He’s got a bit of an attitude, but fortunately for him, he’s eloquent enough to usually talk himself out of any trouble it gets him in. He’s got an absolutely brilliant mind, even though sometimes it would be better for him if he put it to rest more often instead of always overthinking everything. Now tell me, he doesn’t sound so bad, does he?” you finish while tucking some chestnut strands out of his face. A quiet laugh, his breath clouding in front of him as he leans into your touch. “No, he does not.” You nod in satisfaction. “I thought so. Now I just wish he— I just wish you would stop ignoring all of these qualities in favor of focusing on something as… as irrelevant as a bad leg. It’s a part of you just like everything else.”

“Regrettably so…” he mutters and drops his gaze. You’re not having any of that, so you curl your fingers under his chin and force his eyes back to you; golden pools still glassy, but not as dark as when you started this conversation. There’s a spark of something lighter, of hope, somewhere there and you’ll be damned if you let it go. “The only thing regrettable about it is that it causes you pain. That’s it. It doesn’t make you less of a person or a partner or a lover.” There’s another protest ready when he opens his mouth, you can feel it, so you talk over him. “How come you get to love all of me with all my flaws and imperfections and I’m not allowed the same with you, hm? That doesn’t seem very fair, you know.”

The smug smirk on your face grows despite your best efforts as you watch him stutter and fumble, trying to come up with a counter argument. He doesn’t find one. He exhales heavily and shakes his head, looking up at you through his lashes, the small grin on his face matching yours. “There are times when I can’t stand you being right, you are aware, yes?” You simply shrug happily in response. “Maybe we could… help each other? To try and learn to be loved without… requirements?” The grin on your face melts into something softer and more genuine at his suggestion and you nod. “There’s no one I’d rather try this with than you.” Pressing a kiss to each of the beauty marks on his face, a way of sealing your deal, he hums in gratitude. Reluctantly separating from him, you lace your fingers together and start guiding him down the sreet again. “Come on, we need to get home.” He cocks his brows at you in curiosity. “Why the sudden rush?” Wincing, you rub a hand over the back of your neck sheepishly. “Cause I just remembered that I forgot to put your flowers in water and I’d rather not start this relationship by immediately killing the first thing you gifted me.” His laughter echoes along with you, as you hurriedly drag him towards your home.

He settles on your couch with a cup of tea, your own on the table in front him waiting for you, as you rummage through your cupboards in search of a vase. The flowers get a new home quick enough and as you arrange them in the glass cylinder, you realize it’s the first proper look you’ve given them. In all honesty, you hadn’t been in any state to pay attention to them when he first showed up; you’d registered their existence, yes, but you’d just assumed a generic bouquet of roses, maybe even courtesy of Jayce. You should’ve known better. And the longer you study them the bigger your eyes grow; if you’d paid even the tiniest bit more attention to the flowers when he first presented them to you, you could’ve saved yourself a lot of time and insecurity, because it’s all right here, clear as day.

Grabbing the vase in both hands, you all but dash over to your living room, almost tripping over your carpet in your hurry, to place them on the couch table in front of you both and then sit down next to him, staring at him expectantly. He glances at you out of his peripheral as he sips at his tea. “You look like you would like to ask me something.” It’s not really a question, more of a fact. “You read the book I lent you.” Snorting in amusement as he puts down his cup, he turns slightly to give you his full attention. “You’ve lent me a lot of books over the years, you’re gonna have to be a little more specific.” You gesture at the flowers animatedly. “The one on flower language.”

“Oh?” Thick brows raised in mock surprise, a smirk tugging at the corners of his pretty mouth. “So now you finally notice. And here I spent all night trying to come up with the perfect combination to give you.” Heat crawls up the back of your neck at that, both out of embarrassment and guilt as well as affection and happiness. Mumbling an apology, you point to the colorful petals yet again. “Tell me about them.” But he only settles back into your soft couch, crossing his long legs. “What possibly for? It’s your book, you should know, shouldn’t you?”

“Well, yes, but it’s been a while since I’ve read it. And a lot of flowers can have multiple meanings. Besides…” you bring your legs up on the couch to carefully poke him in the ribs with your toes before scooting further down to get comfortable, settling your feet in his lap, which earns you an amused, slightly perplexed sideways glance. “I love your voice. I could listen to you talk for hours and never get bored.” Voice all sweet and coy and honeyed, batting your lashes at him; the picture perfect flirt making starry eyes at their lover. How in the world is he supposed to say no to you when you look at him like that? But you getting your way doesn’t necessarily mean he can’t have some fun with it.

So when he casually wraps slender fingers around one of your ankles you don’t think much of it and are utterly unprepared for what happens next; which involves you getting dragged further down the couch, eliciting a shocked squeak, and before you can fully comprehend what’s happening your legs are on either side of his waist and he’s propped up above you with a hand next your head. “And where’s the fun in just reciting everything? How about we make it a game instead.” Two fingers under your chin guide your gaze back to the table and the bouquet, which leaves him with perfect access to run his nose along the slope of your neck. “And you expect me to focus like this?!” you hiss and you feel more than hear him chuckle. “Terribly sorry, am I distracting you in any way?”

Smug bastard. He wants a challenge? Fine. “Lavender. It represents devotion.” A kiss to your collarbone. “Good. What else?” There’s a small blue flower that you manage to recognize. “Iris. Uh… hope? Faith?” You’re already mostly guessing, that’s not good. “Yes, but it can also represent a deep bond of trust.” A kiss to your pulse point this time. A pretty purple one with a color gradient and spotted center catches your attention; you remember seeing it’s picture in your book, but the name had been too complicated to bother remembering it. “The purple one, that’s… friendship?” He hums in disappointed acknowledgement while he lifts his head to throw a quick glance at the flowers. “Alstroemeria. It can mean friendship, but it’s also used to express mutual support and fascination with the person you’re giving it to.” Honey eyes manage to catch your own and he actually clicks his tongue and tuts at you. “You’re slipping already. Do try a little harder, you wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you, miláčku?”

No, no you wouldn’t. You never do, but right now the connotation feels real damn different and you don’t want to find out what’ll happen if you do end up losing this little game of his. ‘Yes you do’ some part of you argues back and you kindly tell it to go shut the fuck up. It’s hard enough to focus as is, with your heart going a mile a minute and his intense gaze focused solely on you. So you bring your attention back to the task at hand; there’s only two flowers left, you can do that. “White carnations…Love…” you whisper a bit hesitantly and it earns you a press of his lips against your temple. “Sincere love” he adds, “also new beginnings and respect.” There’s only one kind of flower left now, but as far as you can recall that one is considered a symbol of love as well. “Pink camellias. Don’t they also symbolize love?”

He pulls back to look at you again, gaze soft and warm. “Eh, they do. As well as standing for loyalty and admiration. But as opposed to the carnations they represent…” Some form of higher power has decided to grant you some mercy, as he actually pauses and seems to lose some of his confidence, now replaced by humility. “It’s eternal love.” Your heart stutters and your breath hitches as he brushes some hair away from your face with the back of his hand. “I’m yours for as long as you want. If you’ll have me.”

Cursing quietly, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring him down to finally, finally kiss him, legs locking around his lanky waist to eliminate any remaining space between you; you don’t plan on letting go again anytime soon. The kiss is hot and heavy and the culmination of years of yearning and ‘what if’s’ and you’d love it to last forever, but you do regrettably have to part to breathe eventually. “So? You’re the one who wanted make this a game. Who won?” Warm breath fans across your face as he laughs softly. “Oh, I’d say we both won. Is that agreeable with you?” Grinning like a madman you nod and pull him in again to continue where you left off. The next time you manage to tear yourselves away, you nuzzle your nose against his and ask “Would you maybe want to stay the night?”

Echoing his words from earlier “If you’ll have me.” makes a bark of laughter escape you, because “You’re not gonna tell me you were planning on leaving like this,” you buck your hips into his, grinding against the obvious bulge in his pants, rewarding you with an incredibly satisfying moan from the back of his throat. “Were you?” His answer comes out breathless and strained. “Not unless you asked me to.”

“Please. There’s not a single universe where that happens. However, in this universe, I think we should be moving to the bedroom.” Out of all the things that could’ve happened next, you don’t expect him to actually pout. “What for? I think the couch is perfectly sufficient.” Utter disbelief, mixed with tendrils of heat crawling up from the pit of your stomach as you gawk at him. “My love, I applaud your enthusiasm, and while I absolutely would fuck you on my couch, I don’t plan on moving afterwards and I’m not about to sleep here when my much bigger, much more comfortable bed is right in the other room, so be so kind as to move.” The exact opposite happens as he plops himself down on top of you with all his weight; uselessly shoving at his shoulders gets you nowhere as he complains. “That would mean separating myself from you. I don’t like it.” Huffing in mild, fake annoyance, you barely hold back a laugh. “Oh for the love of— You’ll have to do that anyways if you plan on getting me out of my clothes, so would you just…?”

It takes some more bantering back and forth, but you do eventually manage to shoo him off of you. Not that it does you much good, cause as soon as you’re in an upright position on the couch again, he has your legs over his shoulders, practiced fingers on the button of your pants and he doesn’t let you up for air or from the couch until he’s brought you to ruin twice. Hunched over, hands buried in his hair, fresh air can’t seem to fill your lungs fast enough and when you have to watch him wipe the back of his hand over his mouth you actually feel like you might pass out. You try to gather every ounce of willpower and rational thought you can still muster, and fuck that’s not a lot at the moment, so you don’t tackle him to the floor right then and there. But you’d both definitely regret that one in the morning, so you haul him to his feet and finally drag him off to your bedroom.

Once he’s seated on the edge of your bed with you in his lap, the urgency that seemed to have been driving all your actions eventually ebbs away and vanishes entirely. The fear of this only being another dream, of the other person just vanishing into thin air is gone so you take your time; you have plenty, after all. Your kisses turn no less passionate, but slow and deliberate instead of frantic and bruising. Touches go from hectic and desperate to slow and sensual. Like how you spend a good portion of time, when you finally get him in the same state of undress as you, mapping out the moles and freckles across his body with your fingers, creating a star chart of your very own perfect little world. Or how he leaves marks from your things all the way up to your neck, taking mental notes on which spots make you squirm the most.

And you definitely weren’t lying earlier in the evening, when you told him you loved his voice, but the way he’s talking now? Gods have mercy on you, you’re never gonna recover. You didn’t think it was possible for someone to be obscenely filthy and terribly sweet all at once - leave it to him to prove you wrong when your bodies are eventually interwtined in the most intimate way possible.

“You’re doing so good, always so good for me.”

“Fuck, you should see yourself… Like a work of art…”

“Taking me so well, like you were made for me. Do you like the thought of that, hm, moje světlo? Of being made for me?”

Oh you damn well like it enough for it to send you over the edge yet again, a broken version of his name leaving your lips in a sob, like a violent prayer. He just holds you impossibly closer and gently hushes you.

“It’s alright, just breathe, I’ve got you. I promise, I’ve got you.”

And he keeps that promise, all through the night until exhaustion takes you both and lulls you into slumber.

All things considered, he fully expects to wake up next to you, so when his unconscious mind alerts him to your warmth missing, it irks him awake and sure enough, the bed is empty. There is however, the smell of something unfairly delicious and the sound of soft music coming from under the closed door, so you can’t be far. He manages to find his shirt and underwear in the mess of clothes on your floor and slips them on, leaving the buttons on his shirt untouched. He’d just mismatch them in his current drowsy state and you hate the cold, so your apartment is unsettlingly warm anyways. Plus, he doesn’t think you’ll mind too much, getting a view of all the marks you left, now in broad daylight.

Groggily traipsing out into the big, open space that makes up your living room and kitchen, he wonders if maybe he’s still asleep after all, because the couch table and the surrounding space is covered in book stacks that definitely weren’t there the night before. He calls out your name and your head pops up from somewhere between the piles. “Oh, hi, you’re up! Sorry, did I wake you?” He denies it, carefully making his way over to you, weaving through book towers, to sit down behind you on the couch, legs on either side of your form on the floor. He leans his cane against the cushions and wraps his arms around your shoulders in a loose hug, chin coming to rest on top of your head. There’s a mess of flowers, kitchen towels and books spread out in front of you. “What are you even doing this early in the morning?” he mumbles into your hair and you snort. “Early in the morning? Darling, it’s almost noon. I’ve already had Jayce at the door because you weren’t at the lab at ungodly hours of the morning.” You feel him shrug. “Eh, he’s the one who prohibited me from coming back to the lab before I fixed things with you. He’s only reaping what he sowed.” Snickering, you ask “He kicked you out of the lab? However did you survive?” He bumps his chin against your head in retaliation. “Stop deflecting and answer the question; what are you doing?”

“Pressing your flowers.” Short, simple, matter of fact. “Yes, I can see that.” A statement just as obvious. “So why did you ask in the first place?” He groans, burying his face in your hair. “Miláčku…” and you laugh; it’s not annoyance more… exasperated endearment.

“When I got up this morning and looked at them, I realized they were gonna wilt eventually and I didn’t like that thought, so here I am.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I can just get you new flowers, you know. I will.” Your heart swells and you lean back into him a little more, feeling him press a kiss to your head. “I know. But they won’t be these ones. These are special. If I can keep them around for a while, look at them daily, maybe they can serve as a reminder. To help with the whole ‘letting myself be loved unconditionally’ thing.”

Ah, so that’s it. It’s not about the actual act of receiving flowers as a gift, then. He contemplates your idea, watching you gently cradle a tiny lavender bud in your palms. “We’ve been working on something that could help with that, I think.” he starts. “It’s a kind of resin, won from a plant, liquid, but it dries solid and clear. It’s still in development, but you might be able to use it to preserve them further. Ms. Young is leading the project, I will ask her about it. You could probably pour it into a mold as well, turn the flowers into something else entirely. The face of a clock, maybe. Or a tray, for breakfast in bed.”

Stacking more books onto your latest set of petals, you send him a fake offended look over your shoulder. “One night and he already has such outrageous expectations? The audacity.” A quick kiss to the corner of your smiling mouth. “And why do you assume you’re not the one who gets to stay in bed?” The answer is quick and deadpan. “Because you’re still not allowed anywhere near my kitchen, Vik. Not without supervision and being searched for anything explosive beforehand.” Rising to your feet with a groan, you wince slightly at the soreness between you legs as you make your way to said kitchen to check on your breakfast. “A full body search, I’d hope.” he calls after you and you just barely resist the urge to chuck your oven mitts at him. “Behave. Or no sweetmilk for you.”

Accompanied by two mugs and a plate of fresh croissants, you return to him only a little while later and the self satisfied grin spreads across his face before he can stop it; so he really wasn’t imagining you limping a little. He opens his mouth against his better judgement and all common sense. “What’s this now? Don’t tell me you’re a little sore?”

Dear Gods, if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under. Settling back on your spot on the floor, you very specifically put his cup just outside of his reach out of pure pettiness and spite. And maybe he’s actually trying to get himself killed, because “I could lend you my cane for the day, if you’d like?” You grab said cane from it’s position against the couch and blindly try to whack him with it. Chuckling, he manages to get it back before you take someone’s eye out, probably his, and mirroring your actions, puts it just out of your reach. “You’re a menace.” you complain, taking a bite of your warm, fluffy pastry. “Well, yes, but you knew that already and you decided to keep me around anyways. What does that say about you, I wonder?” You shuffle about, huffing and pouting, until you’ve managed to turn around and face him fully, intending to poke him in the ribs with an accusing finger.

Your downfall comes when you make the mistake of actually looking at him: the cutest bed head you’ve ever seen, chestnut curls sticking up in odd places, very much like when he unconsciously twirls random strands around his long fingers when he’s lost in thought. Shirt falling open just enough to clearly make out the bruises and marks on his slim chest and stomach, a beautiful contrast against his pale skin. The sunlight filtering into your apartment through the windows seems to only exist to accentuate the sharp angles of his face and match his golden eyes, just as bright and warm. Not to mention it almost gives him a halo and all of a sudden you feel like on your knees in front of him is a rather fitting place.

It’s strange, really; he’d braced himself for the full brunt of your wrath, but as soon as you’ve turned around, your eyes go wide and all the fight seems to go out of you at once. And next thing he knows, you’ve got your head nuzzled against his thigh and are staring up at him with a unique mixture of annoyance and admiration. “Oh come on, how am I supposed to argue with you when you look like this? That’s hardly fair.” He breathes a quiet, disbelieving laugh as he tangles his hand in your hair, gently scratching your scalp. “And what, pray tell, do I look like?” A smile so sweet and genuine, his heart actually aches. “Breathtakingly beautiful.” It’s like you can actually see the gears in his head grind to a screeching halt and you’re immensely proud of yourself for catching him so off guard, he ends up speechless.

“I’ll consider the dumbstruck look on your face enough of a repentance for your antics. Now eat your breakfast; they’re best while they’re still warm.” Wrapping one of the croissants in a napkin, you hand it off to him before grabbing your own off the table and shifting lightly, back now pressed against his thigh and knees tucked up under your chin, continuing your breakfast with a content sigh.

Meanwhile he’s certain he still has the same dumbfounded look on his face you found so amusing. His eyes dart between the pastry in his hand and you, before they start to wander around the rest of your apartment. He’s been here plenty of times, he’s used to your shelves, cluttered with books and mementos, your messy floor getting abused as a closet, your spotless, perfectly organized kitchen. The old heater in the corner squeaking and hissing, fighting for his life because you always run it way too high in the winter. The handwritten notes and recipes scattered across your coffee table, currently buried under books and flowers. The little mechanical cat he built you when he was a kid that he still can’t quite believe you kept staring at him from across the room, golden eyes seeming to wink at him. The used phonograph in the corner that he fixed up for you, currently playing the same gentle, slow melody he remembers from the last time you danced together in the lab in the middle of the night. He’s familiar with all of it, and yet everything feels slightly different today.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a morning quite like this…” he mumbles, more so to himself than to you, but you catch it anyways. “How so…?” He doesn’t immediately answer and for a moment you think he might not have heard you. When he speaks again, it’s slow, contemplative. “With the smell of food coming from the other room. With soft music being the thing to wake me. With the lingering warmth of someone else still in the sheets. With someone waiting to greet me, someone happy to see me, first thing in the morning. It’s… nice. I think I could get used to it. I’d like to.” Mistaking your wide eyes and silence for judgement instead of the astonishment they actually represent, he quickly apologizes. “Ah, don’t mind me, I’m just rambling. Everything I just recounted is… normal for most people, I suppose. I’m sure I sound foolish; forget I said anything.”

There’s a pretty blush crawling up from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears and you’re somewhere between wanting to kiss him and wanting to slap some sense into him. The former impulse wins, lucky for him. Crawling into his lap, you press a kiss to his nose and giggle at the way his face scrunches up in surprise and confusion.

“Happiness is the folly of fools, pity poor me, one of those fools…” you recite in a sing-song voice and he cocks his head to the side in curiosity. “That’s pretty, what’s it from?” You play with a strand of his hair as you answer. “My dad always used to hum it when he was cooking. I, uh… I never got to meet the person he seemed to be singing it to, but he was always at ease when this melody was around. He always seemed happy to have been one of the fools.” It’s your turn to feel a little abashed and sheepish now. “Soooo… you know. Even if you sounded foolish, which you didn’t by the way, I don’t think it’s— You’re not— I mean, you’re my fool, so — Wait, no, that’s not it.” Good fuck, your brain really just stops functioning around this man, doesn’t it? Not that he seems to mind, as his laugh is honest and bright as he cups your cheek and leaves a sweet kiss on your temple.

“One of the fools it is then.”

#arcane viktor x reader #hurt/comfort #smut #domestic fluff #arcane #gender neutral reader #angst #childhood friends #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #arcane imagine #viktor arcane #league of legends

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sooniebby · 1 year ago

Text

Restraining.. but it’s the guys weight holding you down.. bonus if he’s your sister’s ex boyfriend ;) bottom male reader, reader is mentioned to have a cock. Spanking, feminization, and light degradation. (Adding dub con just to be safe but reader consents to everything)

Smut idea where reader ends up getting fucked by his sister’s ex boyfriend and finds out he likes bigger and older men :3

After your sister, Karina,’s break up with her boyfriend, she’s been a bit of a mess. Even though she was the one who initiated the breakup. She never told you why but she certainly told you what she’d miss from her ex.

His smile, his hair, his hands, and his big co—

Yeah, it was getting annoying. You were honestly glad. You didn’t like the guy. Some bad boy wannabe wearing leather jackets and riding a motorcycle. He was.. like in his mid 20s! Too old to be a bad boy! You were at least glad you’d never see him again

But that wasn’t true when you ended up seeing him in your home… the day you were trying on a pair of shorts Karina got you.. the shorts were way too short for you—your ass cheek was basically popping out and you couldn’t even wear underwear with it.

And now here you were, gripping your bedsheets tightly with the shorts around your legs as you bit down on your lip. A constant force pushing up toward the headboard as he fucked you like an animal.

You could’ve said no. And really, you were about to.. but damn, he was kinda hot. Tall, lean, and tanned skin. Jet black hair.. why did Karina break up with him..? Personality maybe?

Fuck a personality right now though…

Anyway, while you lose your virginity to your sister’s ex boyfriend, all you could do was whimper and whine. You tried moving but his body was pressed down onto you, forcing you to take whatever he gave you

And what he gave you was harsh deep thrusts. Easily reaching your bundle of nerves and earning muffled screams from your lips. You shifted underneath him at each graze of your prostate but was only met with a swift spank to your ass.

He didn’t even say much for you to drop your shorts. A simple raised eyebrow and a smirk got you wet. Which is… very virgin like but at least you’re not a virgin now :)

You didn’t even think about how weird it was that this guy, who was about eight years older than you and dated Karina for almost two years was fucking you without any sense of guilt.

But fuck… your sister was right. He did have a huge cock.. but suddenly you thought about your sister getting fucked by this guy and now you felt disgusted. You tried to move again but was met with another harsh spank and him pushing you even deeper onto the bed

It looked like you weren’t leaving anytime soon. And embarrassing enough, you took it. Future you would deal with the guilt of fucking Karina’s ex.. present you would enjoy your first ever dick

“You do this for everyone?”

Oh. He can talk? You only mewled as his thrusts seemed to only get quicker, the sounds of skin slapping filling your room.

“Dressing in these type of shorts,” he tugged at the shorts around your legs. “How many did you seduce with these?”

You could only try to ignore him and just enjoy the feeling of getting fucked but he grabbed your hair and pulled. A cry left your lips as you glanced at him, a faint smirk on his lips.

“You’ve always been cute.. glad to know your pussy is tighter than Karina’s”

You couldn’t help but mewl at his words, your tight heat tightening around his cock. His smirk only grew—his eyes staring knowingly into yours.

He’s got you now.

You came soon after that in embarrassment. How could that even make you cum? But he loved it. His past thrusts were fast but it felt absent.. now, he was fucking you like he was wanting to breed you.

Your lips were continuously open, loud and unabashed screams left your lips. Each thrust caused your body to push forward violently.

“Look at you… taking me well for your first time. Y’know.. I think I know why some people love fucking virgins.”

His thrusts slowed down, earning a whine from you. He was slow and methodical which was good at first but randomly, he slammed into you, earning a cry in pleasure from you.

“Not for the innocence… but for showing someone new how good it is to be fucked. And the discovery of themselves.”

He slammed into you again.

“I think I don’t want this to be a one time thing. This pussy’s too good to give up.” He gave a soft squeeze to your ass.

“…’s not a pussy…” you slurred out, practically cock drunk at this point.

He only grinned. His thrusts were slow as he brushed against your prostate before stopping right there as he painted your insides. You gasped in disbelief, feeling the warm liquid.

He pulled out and got off from on top of you. You continued to stay on the bed—just hoping he’d leave now so you could sleep in shame for sleeping with Karina’s ex.

But you heard the sound of a camera going off. With the last bit of energy you had, you turned yourself around to look at him as he smirked at his phone.

He turned the phone to you, showing you the picture he took. Your bare ass as cum dripped out of your fucked out hole. Luckily you were face wasn’t in the picture but if someone had been in your room, they could tell it was your bedroom based on the posters you could see in the background

“Safe keeping. I had to delete Karina’s nudes… so I need some new material. You’ll be giving me more, yeah?”

You could only stare at him dumbly as he grabbed his shoes and slipped them back on. He grabbed his jacket and looked back at you. You could feel his eyes roaming your body before looking down at your hole that was still leaking with cum.

A twisted smirk was on his lips at the sight. You blushed in embarrassment and looked away.

“It’ll be fun helping you learn about yourself more… I’ll see you soon. Wear those shorts again, alright?”

With that—he was gone. But the only thing on your mind right now was…

Why was he even here in the first place?

And uh.. more importantly—what was he going to do with that picture?

I’ve always liked the idea of sister exbf but only if the bf is older and a bit mean, but I certainly think I can make him meaner for next time.. how do you guys like him?

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler @nakedtoasterr @ofclyde @smellwell @tomoeroi @kaedezu @loivre @millecka @iwishtobeacrow

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #oc x reader #smut drabble #smut ideas #mlm nsft #mlm ns/fw #smut prompts

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mournings-stars · 1 year ago

Note

Maybe the wrapping wings around heddies but the reader wraps their wings around the characters?

okay i rly like this but what about with characters that don’t have wings?? (lmk if yall want characters w wings cus this is kinda silly funny haha)

charlie

she loves when your wings wrap around her — every time she hugs you, she’s waiting for that extra warmth and when it comes she just hugs you even tighter

she wouldn’t ask you to do it, but if you put a wing around her in public she’s trying not to get too excited

cuddling is a must for wings. you’re sitting on the couch? she wants a nice feathery blanket. lying in bed? same thing. watching a scary movie? she’s using your wings as a shield to duck under anytime theres a jump scare

if you asked her if she’d like a wing, she’s the happiest you’ve ever seen her

“im starting to wonder if you’re just dating me for my wings,” you’d joke and she’d laugh and say, “they’re definitely a plus” while running her finger over the top of one (this girl likes to tease i know it)

she loves when you cuddle up to her and wrap your wings around her, like she just melts

she does not let anyone play with them. ever. if niffty tried to go scurrying around them, she’s taking her away faster than she can blink

your wings are hers as much as they are yours, but that’s a silent rule between you two that she doesn’t plan on voicing

she just gives “let me be your wings” from thumbelina vibes like you would have a duet like that

alastor

now if you ever need to gossip, he’s clearing his throat and you’re shielding your conversation with your wings while you two laugh and whisper

he does not want anyone touching him but if you put a wing around him he knows you guys have some important business to talk about

sometimes you throw up your wing, whisper, and he has to stop himself from laughing when you quickly put your wing down, alastor batting it with his microphone as you laughed

now if he’s ever hurt, that’s when your wings go around him, making sure no one sees so he can escape to saftey

you’d always come to his rescue even if he got mad at you for it, wings wrapping around him as you struck his attacker faster than he could summon his shadows (and he definitely gets pissed about it but hey what are … friends …. for!)

wings are for shit talking and the occasional life saver when it comes to al

angel dust

he loves the security of your wings

after a long day, you’d just lie in his room, wings wrapped around him as he held you close — he’d either fall asleep or want to sit in silence like that, but either way you were happy to help

sometimes you’d just sit at the bar, wing around him as you talked and laughed together

whenever you went out together, your wings were a strict barrier that no one dared to cross. you put a wing in front of angel when some guy approaches him? he and every other demon are backing off for the rest of the night. you’re walking down the street? wing around him and no one is approaching you

he definitely asks you to do it (in his own very special way) and he likes to tease you when you’re around other people

but you both know he treasures the safety your wings give him

pentious

my boy pentious 100% thinks you’ve turned against him the first time you drape your wings over him — you could’ve literally been sleeping and he’d accuse you of trying to smother him

“i was sleeping!” “your subconscious mind plans to kill me, too!”

he warms up to it though because the next time it happens you’re fast asleep and theres no attempt to block his airways, or whatever he thought you’d do, so he snuggles into the warmth

being a snake (i love snakes im gonna b a lil nerdy about this one) pen likes to burrow. especially at night. he’d start to curl up under the warmth of your wings and rest there until you eventually moved

some days you’d wake up and he’d be completely hidden beneath your wings. if you lift one, he’d very quickly tug it back (definitely how he found out about sensitive wings)

he felt very bad :(

cherri

wings are for parties!

they give you the best dance numbers — dramatic reveal, awesome poses, super dope flying routine…!

then they’re for comedowns because once you’re home from the club shit hits the fan and you’re wrapping your wings around her so she can even try to sleep

but then the morning comes and you brush it off cus it’s time to blow shit up!

definitely using your wings as a shield though — they’re probably dyed pink and red by now, with all the times you’ve had to cover the two of you from explosives

but she finds it super hot so…

velvette

she likes to fuck with you

1000% uses them as her personal armor — you’re basically a body guard

she’ll wrap them around herself while looking in the mirror, modeling your wings like a feather coat

“my wings are not going in your collection,” you’d have to tell her, still pulling her closer with them as you met her eyes in the mirror

“yeah, guess you’re right. can’t have anyone else getting a hold of these, can we?”

she loves being wrapped in them while she sleeps — she loves you sleeping next her, cause then she can lay them however she wants

it’s always best when you’re wings fold in and bring her closer though

definitely been used for a private moment in the office

she says they’re your best asset

vox

now this man is, under no circumstances, letting you wrap your wings around him

in public? absolutely not…

in private? well…. no! totally not!

at least not until you’re asleep and he’s situating himself beneath them. it’s not his fault a feather blanket helps him fall asleep

you’ve definitely waited until he fell asleep, draped you wings over him, and watched him relax into them

he’s not slick

like at all

not even in public

he’ll touch them and the minute one even wraps around him, his screen is buffering

speaking of in public… just wait til you’re at a party. he’s drunk and all over you, touching your wings, handling them like their his own, you have to use them to shield the two of you when he gets too handsy, and he loves it; pushing your buttons until your wings are around him and being more than satisfied by that

niffty

girl is crazy

she cleans them, climbs on them, inspects them (almost rips the fuck out of your feathers)

there’s no way you can wrap that girl up, she’s too quick

but she would love petting them and thats why shes here

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cherrybr4t · 3 months ago

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hoshi as your boyfriend (+18)

(sfw + nsfw)

warnings: first half is all FLUFF <3 nsfw part included too! dancer!hoshi, dancer!reader, fem reader, unprotected sex 😔, public sex, creampie, mirror sex, orgasm denial + edging, they r in luv! <3

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s the school’s infamous dance captain, while you’re a member of the dance club. that’s how the both of you met.

boyfriend!soonyoung who was known to be a dynamic ball of energy, but with you — he was so shy initially. thought you were too pretty to approach, thought you looked out of reach. took him a while to be able to be friends with you.

boyfriend!soonyoung finally had the balls to confess to you after working on a dance project with you for 2 months. impulsive 2am thoughts and a slip of the tongue while the both of you were slurping down cup noodles after practice.

“—so yeah jihoon wouldn’t stop making fun of me, especially about my crush on you and—”

“what?”

“…what did i say?”

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s superrr clingy. even if it’s a separate practice session for team projects within the dance club, he’s gonna be at yours. sitting at the back, the front, beside the mirrors — wherever. (and it makes the juniors/other members nervous as HELL)

boyfriend!soonyoung who gets pouty when you tell him not to show up all the time — “it intimidates the rest!” but he promises to not be noticed the next time; cue him going to your next practice in a ball cap and mask, sitting at the back corner.

boyfriend!soonyoung who is always willing to help and guide you patiently. (though he is always impatient and scary with the other team members) with you though — he can never lose his temper at you. every mistake you make causes him to giggle like you’re the cutest thing ever.

“you’re so cute baby,”

you pout “i’m sorry baby… i can’t seem to get this even though i’ve done it like - 20 times.”

“it’s okay baby, you’re doing so well. doing better than dino even.”

you tilt your head…”that’s impossible”

“i’ll happily watch you practice it a 100 times angel,”

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s your biggest supporter. he’s your biggest fan. after every performance, he never fails to gift you the biggest & most dramatic bouquet of flowers with a little tiger plushie in the middle. with the longest heartfelt letter sealed in a tiger print envelope.

boyfriend!soonyoung who feels so lucky to have you. because if you think he’s dramatic? you’re even MORE dramatic. customised tiger gifts for him, an even bigger bouquet of flowers for him, and the cutest love letter he has pinned on his board at home.

boyfriend!soonyoung who is always your biggest defender. anytime he hears people talking shit about you — he’s immediate to thrash things out with them. always reminds people how hardworking you are, and loves to talk about you to everyone he knows.

“she’s the prettiest, kindest, purest soul i’ve ever met. and have you seen her dance? swear she’s better than me.”

“she’s the best. i don’t know how i got so lucky to love someone like her.”

boyfriend!soonyoung who loves using not only words of affirmation, he loves his quality time with you, he loves feeling your touch all the time, and he’s the best at acts of service.

“i love you baby. i’ll never get tired of telling you how amazing you are. i’m so happy we got to exist in the same universe timeline, like—” *him rambling and getting distracted by the theories about different universe timelines*

*him always planning the most thought out dates — full day itinerary; at the zoo, pottery dates, etc. but he loves spending his down time with you too — sitting at home, putting on animal print face masks together, doing feet baths together.*

he always needs to hold your hand — doesn’t want to lose you in the crowd (though the crowd on tuesdays at the mall seems to be…bleak). hugs with him lasts at least 10 minutes at a time, and naps with him end up with him hugging you like a koala bear on a tree.

hungry at 2am? he’s at your door within 15 with your favourite late night snack. on your period? he’s got a full care pack covered. late for class? he’s already sitting in your lecture hall; attendance marked for you, taking down notes for you.

nsfw version here!

boyfriend!soonyoung who found out he had a thing for exhibitionism one night while the both of you were practicing late in the dance studio.

you were practicing your moves, concentration at a 100% while looking at yourself in the mirror. and he couldn’t help but feel a little turned out by how hard you were dancing. sweaty, flushed and so so pretty.

the song switches — and you snap your head towards soonyoung. he walks towards you in beat with the sensual song, before wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“follow my guide baby,” he sways, holding onto you so tight. he traces your arms, interlocking both hands with you — flowing with the music while his eyes never left yours in the mirror.

“you’re so sexy baby. love the way you move,” he breathes down your neck, eyes shutting for less than a second before he focuses on you again.

you hum, hips moving against his crotch as you feel yourself get heated up as the song progresses. “learned it all from you baby,” your giggle snaps him out of his deep reverie.

“getting bold now are we?”

boyfriend!soonyoung loves how you’re always down to explore new boundaries with him. he knows the deep trust goes both ways, and he’s grateful.

boyfriend!soonyoung loves when you get all needy for him. it’s usually him being all clingy and like a baby when it comes to you. you’re his safe space. so when he sees you being all wide eyed and desperate for him — it turns him on to no end.

he’s a menace. when it comes to fucking you, he’s double the menace. gets off on you being his needy little angel. no one would ever guess what goes on behind closed doors when it comes to him.

he’s edged you for the past 30 minutes, your juices tainting the dance floor that’s only seen blood sweat and tears of the dancers. his smile is sinister, is relishing in the fact that he’s holding the key to your heaven gates at the moment.

loves to have you in front of him sitting right in front of the mirror. the big and wide mirror capturing the indecent act. your legs wide open for him as his fingers alternate between rubbing messily and harshly on your clit, and plunging deep into your his cunt.

wants you to come undone on his fingers and torture alone.

but he’s selfish, only wants to achieve what he’d set to do so earlier. and it’s for you to cum on his cock. he sits on the floor with his pretty cock out in the open, and has you in the same position, except now you’re sitting on his cock — deep inside you. all still facing the mirror where his gaze is locked on every move you make.

“that’s it baby, ride my cock like you fucking mean it yeah?”

“training you to have strong legs baby, you need them to continue to dance amazingly right?”

you cry out at the overstimulation, you want nothing but to cum. every hit his cock makes chokes you and you don’t recognise the girl in the mirror anymore — so wrecked on your boyfriend’s cock.

“tell me what you need pretty girl,” soonyoung teases as he leans back on his hands, enjoying the view in the mirror, hiding how fucked out he feels. how he is so close to cumming right inside of you this very moment. but he’s holding back. he’s got better control than that anyways.

“need to—need to cum nowww soonie, please baby,” tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you continue to ride him, pace faltering as you feel your legs getting tired.

“if you can cum like that, be my guest baby. cum.” he shrugs, and you notice the glint in his devilish gaze through the mirror. you groan, legs giving out on you and you resort to grinding slowly.

“need you to—need you to help me,” you pout, if acting cute won’t get you what you want, you don’t know what else to try.

“baby needs my help? can’t cum on her own? aw baby.” he pouts back at you, and you want so badly to snap at him at his tone but you know better than to do so.

“on your knees, face the mirror. won’t tell you twice.” and all energy resurfaces as you scurry to go on all fours, looking at how desperate you appear through the mirror — your reflection mocking you.

soonyoung grunts in approval. slides his cock right back into you, and thanks the heavens for you. for being able to take you like this. swears you look like an angel even being so fucked out on the dance floor, back being blown out.

“so fucking pretty like this baby, how do you always look so fucking beautiful,” he snaps his hips so deep into you with a certain tempo, and you feel like you’re ascending to heaven each time he fucks his cock into you.

his fingers reach forward to smack your puffy clit, using the tip of his fingers to rub messily, finally deciding to let his angel cum.

“c-can’t—gonna cum—i’m gonna cum gonna cum” you cry out with a hoarse throat with actual tears running down your flushed cheeks this time. your hands reach back to grab onto his biceps, nails plunging in, and it drives him crazy.

“you can cum baby, cum on your fucking cock—cream it baby let me feel you—” you clench around him so tight he lets out a string of ‘fucks’. you fall forward, face flat — cheeks pressed on the dance floor, letting your body do the job of releasing the past hour of edging. all tension let loose, you moan out his name so beautifully as you cream and choke his cock with your cunt.

“fuck fuck fuck baby, gonna cum too. gonna cum inside you pretty, fuuuuuck—” his grip on your hips tighten as he releases his creamy load inside of you. airy moans leaving his chest as he lets his cock paint your cunt as his.

he slows down his thrusts, letting the mixture of your releases mix together slowly. you both slowly relish in the moment of your bodies connecting, feeling nothing but love left.

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s always taking care of you — including after care! loves praising you non stop, leaving trails of kisses everywhere. post-nut clarity hits differently for him — where he always tells himself that he wants to be yours forever.

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s not only the best boyfriend, the best lover but also your best friend and the one person you’re most thankful for in the world ! <3

a/n: haha…was in a hoshi mood…<3 GAH. i hope u guys liked it ! typed this all in one go while thinking abt hoshi n him being the bestest boy ever.

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cruel-seduction · 1 month ago

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James Potter as Your Boyfriend

a/n - I am listening to my romantic playlist on repeat so it might be more cheesy than I intend it to be.

(୨୧) That Infuriatingly Perfect HairJames Potter is the guy who knows his hair is a mess and somehow still uses it as his primary flirting tactic. (Like, sir, did you actually think ruffling your hair would make me swoon? … Okay, maybe a little.) He smirks every time you roll your eyes at him doing it, but the kicker is when you catch him fixing it in a reflection right before seeing you. “Gotta look sharp for my girl,” he says with a wink. (Spoiler: he does not, in fact, look sharp, but you love it anyway.)

(୨୧) The Walking Ego (Who’s Secretly a Softie)He loves to show off in front of you, especially on the Quidditch field. He’ll pull stunts, grinning like he’s the coolest guy in the world, just to hear you cheer his name. (Never mind that he almost fell off his broom that one time; we don’t talk about that.) But when it’s just the two of you, his cocky demeanor drops, and he’s all shy smiles and quiet, “Did you really think I was good out there? Or are you just saying that because you love me?” cue him melting when you reassure him.

(୨୧) His Endless Need for Validation

James is the guy who constantly asks, “Did you see that?!” anytime he does anything remotely impressive, even if it’s just catching a piece of parchment midair. (You could be reading, and he’ll yell, “Love, LOOK!” before performing some ridiculous stunt). He’s a golden retriever in human form, and if you don’t immediately cheer for him, he’ll sulk until you give him a kiss. (You love it, though. Admit it).

(୨୧) His Terrible Jealousy

James acts like he’s the most confident guy alive, but the second someone flirts with you, his ears turn red, and he starts loudly talking about how amazing his girlfriend is. (You: “Subtle, Potter.” Him: “Not subtle, James Potter.”) If you so much as laugh at someone else’s joke, he’ll spend the next hour sulking until you kiss him and say, “No one compares to my idiot.” (He perks up immediately, naturally.)

(୨୧) The Chaotic Pillow Talk

James is that boyfriend who talks nonsense when you’re lying in bed together. One moment, he’s whispering sweet nothings like, “You’re my entire world,” and the next, he’s like, “Do you think Sirius could charm his hair to look like yours? Because I think about it a lot.” (You: “What the actual fuck?” Him: “I’m serious.”) Somehow, you love him more for it.

(୨୧) The Unintentional PDAJames isn’t subtle. At all. He’s the guy who’ll grab your hand in the middle of class, lean over, and whisper, “You look really pretty today,” loud enough for everyone—including Professor McGonagall—to hear. (You’re mortified; he’s grinning like a cat that got the cream.) And when you try to scold him later, he just shrugs and says, “What? I’m not gonna hide how I feel. Everyone should know you’re mine.”

(୨୧) The Emotional ProtectorJames may be a reckless Gryffindor, but when it comes to your emotional well-being, he’s shockingly thoughtful. If you’re upset, he’s the first to notice, even if you try to hide it. He’ll pull you into a quiet corner and say, “What’s wrong, love? You know you can tell me anything.” And if you cry? Oh, this man will hold you so tightly it’s like he’s trying to shield you from the entire world. (He definitely whispers, “I’ve got you, always,” like it’s a solemn vow.)

(୨୧) The Ride-or-Die RomanticJames Potter is the kind of boyfriend who makes you feel like you’re his entire world. He’s got that intense Gryffindor loyalty, and once he’s in love, there’s no turning back. He’ll write you corny notes like, “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, and I’m including winning the House Cup in that list.” (They’re signed with little doodles of a stag and a heart because he’s the absolute worst.)

(୨୧) The Over-the-Top Romantic Gestures

He’ll do big, stupidly romantic things, like charming the stars in the Astronomy Tower to spell out your name (Sirius: “You’re disgusting, mate.” James: “Shut it, Pads, she’s the one”). But he’s also the type to leave little notes in your books, like “Marry me?” and “You’re the sexiest witch alive.” (You’ve found many letters in Hogwarts, A History. Yes, you kept them all.)

(୨୧) The Unexpected Vulnerability

Despite all his confidence, James has quiet moments when he doubts if he’s enough for you. “You could have anyone,” he’ll say softly, tracing patterns on your arm. (His voice cracks, and your heart aches). You always pull him close, reminding him that he’s more than enough, and he’ll smile in that shy, boyish way that makes your chest warm. (You: “You’re my James.” Him: “Always.”)

(୨୧) The King of Over-the-Top Gestures

James doesn’t just love you; he worships you. He’s the guy who’ll book out the entirety of Madam Puddifoot’s just to have a private date (you: “James, this is ridiculous.” him: “Ridiculously romantic, you mean”). But he’ll also sit with you on the Quidditch stands, freezing his arse off, just because he knows you like watching the stars after a match.

(୨୧) The Secret Softie

Yes, he’s cocky. But when it comes to you? This man melts. You mention being tired? Suddenly there’s a hot cup of tea waiting for you in the common room. (You: “How’d you know?” Him: “I’m James Potter. I know everything.”) He’d deny it if anyone else asked, but he lives to see you smile. His whole demeanor changes when it’s just the two of you—less bravado, more tenderness. (If you catch him staring at you all lovesick, just know he’s planning your wedding in his head.)

(୨୧) The “I’m Your Biggest Cheerleader” Energy

James will hype you up like his life depends on it. Got an essay due? “No problem, love, you’ve got this!” Need help with a spell? He’ll spend hours practicing with you until you nail it. And when you do, he’s out here clapping like you just won the Quidditch Cup. (Sirius: “Mate, chill, it’s a summoning charm.” James: “IT’S A BIG DEAL, PADFOOT.”) You can’t even be annoyed because the way he beams at you makes your heart flutter every damn time.

(୨୧) The Ego and the Heart to Match

James knows he’s hot—and he’ll never let you forget it. (You: “You’re insufferable.” Him: “You mean irresistible.”) But here’s the kicker: despite his cockiness, he’s never made you feel less than cherished. He’s the type to blow off quidditch practice just to study with you for your OWLs, or charm your quill to write faster when he sees you stressing. (You didn’t even ask. He just noticed.) He may act like the world revolves around him, but you’re the sun he orbits.

(୨୧) The Bravado

This man will not shut up about how good he is at everything—Quidditch, hexes, kissing you senseless against a bookshelf. And the worst part? He’s not wrong. (You: “Cocky much?” Him: “Confident, sweetheart. There’s a difference.”) But then there’s the unexpected softness, like when he presses his forehead against yours after, whispering, “You’re all I’ll ever want.” It’s the mix of arrogance and vulnerability that leaves you completely undone every time. (Yes, you’re ruined. No, you’re not mad about it.)

(୨୧) The “I’d Die for You” Loyalty

James would go to the ends of the earth for you—and you know it. He’s reckless when it comes to protecting you, stepping in front of danger without a second thought. (You: “Stop being so stupidly brave!” Him: “I can’t help it; it’s in the Potter genes. Do you want your kids to have these genes??”) Even in his most infuriating moments, you can’t deny how deeply he loves you. He’s yours, completely and irrevocably, and Merlin, does it feel good to be loved by James Potter.

#jamespotter #james potter oneshot #james potter imagine #james potter one shot #james potter dialogue #james potter drabble #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter x black reader #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x yn #james potter x y/n

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nolovelingers · 2 years ago

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ETHAN LANDRY AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

headcanons — // cw ! : dark themes ,, obsession ,, nsfw !! just a reminder that this man is in fact a killer, it’s not gonna be all lovey lovey goody goody 24/7. !!

——————————————————————————

SFW !!

ETHAN LANDRY AS YOUR BOYFRIEND . . . would be an experience like no other. you’ve never met anyone quite like him, and though he can be one of the sweetest and most thoughtful boys you’ve ever met, he often has mood swings that can scare you heavily.

easy to anger, if you say one bad joke about him, do something he doesn’t approve of or if he catches you suddenly growing distant, he throws tantrums, yelling, punching things and performing the best crocodile tears you might’ve ever seen.

he’s never had a girlfriend before, and before you he’s never even held hands with a girl; so he doesn’t know quite exactly how to love properly, and it doesn’t help that he’s quite a twisted person all together since hes, well, a serial killer.

there is no inbetween with ethan. he will hate you, or he will love you obsessively. there is no “talking stage” or “getting to know each other” with ethan. he will jump straight to the point.

if he feels you slowly cutting ties with him or that you may try to leave him; he takes extreme measures. threatening to hurt himself, your family/friends, and if it gets drastic maybe even yourself. though he has absolutely no initial intention to harm you, if he feels he must just to get you to stay with him, he will do what needs to be done. nothing too bad of course, maybe just a few cuts.

however, if you’re good to him and give him nothing but your love and affection, the both of you will practically be on cloud nine the entire relationship.

he’s always wanted a girlfriend and you’ve made his wishes come true, he can never repay you for enough.

he gets jealous quite easily, and though he does a good enough job at hiding it in the moment, he’ll get quite confrontational when it’s just the two of you.

he’ll help you study, carrying all of your books for you, your bags, your backpack, keep your phone in his pocket when you have none, anything you need help with hes there to assist.

he can still get a bit shy around you even several months into the relationship, sometimes the feeling of love and joy he gets around you too much for him to wrap his mind around.

to be frank, he sucks at flirting. when he’s not hiding behind his fake personality; a shy schoolboy, he’s typically very blunt about things, straight to the point, or he’ll avoid it all together simply because he’s never had the practice of flirting. you’d need to give him a few tips.

he’s very dorky, actually. big into all sorts of movies, comics and shows. especially horror movies, not to be cheesy but they are just something he adores.

if you’re sensitive to horror movies, it’s even better. he loves when you jump, seeing your scared face as you clutch onto him for support, or hide your face under the blanket which never fails to make him smile.

however if it’s the total opposite, and horror does nothing to you, he’ll have no problem in taking on the roll of being scared just to get closer to you and have you soothe and cradle him in your arms, hiding his face in your neck and whining about the scary jump scares or the blood being too much.

your first kiss was honestly pretty bad. he had no idea what he was doing and he kissed you like how your mom would kiss your forehead after wishing you a good day at school. it was terrible, he didn’t go for your top or bottom lip, he literally touched his lips to yours and puckered up for a few seconds.

after practicing for a little bit though, he gets the hang of it and become a decently good kisser.

going into the relationship anytime you kiss it was a little awkward, he wouldn’t touch your body or your face, just lean his head in and expecting you to do the rest. as he gets more comfortable though he eventually becomes the type to rest one hand on your cheek and the other loosely behind your back.

he loves hickeys. he likes to give them, of course he does, marking you is one of the best experiences ever in his mind, but he has such a weak spot when he’s on the receiving end. begging you for more, chest rising and falling as you suck at his most sensitive spots, small groans of arousal falling out from his plumped lips, sore from the make out session you two had just shared while his mouth hangs slightly open and brows furrowed closely together in ecstasy.

if you try to cover the hickeys he gives you, he gets a bit offended. even if it was for school or because you had to see your parents, he would never dream of hiding the dark patches you gave him, from anyone, proud to show off the fact that you loved him; and he sees no reason why you would wish to conceal them. if he notices blobs of makeup trying to wash away the love marks depending on the mood he was in he’d either a) roughly rub the concealer off with his fingers, asking you why you’re so ashamed to be with him and guilt you to death, or b) purely suffer in silence, pouting at the sight and giving you the cold shoulder. not that it would last long anyway, he hates when you don’t talk.

ethan would kill for you. he really would. whether it be some poor old woman who knocked her cart into yours by accident at the grocery or some built guy who tried flirting with you on campus; it wouldn’t be even two days before the news reports them as deceased, brutally butchered with a knife.

he loves to take notes for you, dumbing them down better than how the teacher explained so it wouldn’t be so difficult for you to understand, taking a yellow highlighter and going over the key points of the lesson and marking a few (poorly drawn) doodles.

you lost your notes? don’t worry, take his entire notebook! oh, you only needed yesterdays history notes? well, now you have his entire notebook in your possession. it’s no big deal, he’ll just make more.

joining him in econ dates from time to time are a must. he loves study dates, and anytime you attempt to have one at his or your dorm it just ends in notebooks tossed aside and his lips on yours, so your safest bet to actually get work done is to just join him in econ. holding hands under the table and watching him do his work with a concentrated face.

he’s not the richest guy around, but if you want something he’s either going to buy it assuming he can afford it, or just kill and mug some person on the street for the money. trust me, he’s tried to steal before and it didn’t go so well. theft is not something he’s good at getting away with, so he’ll just stick to murder for the time being. he’s not good at being discreet or locating the cameras.

ethans smart, he genuinely is. he’s at the top of almost all of his classes and teachers favor him, which means they favor you. he was a genius before, however ever since he got with you he’s done nothing but excel even further.

he’s so proud to have you as his partner, you’re genuinely the thing he’s most proud of. the best part of him is you. his notes app is filled to the brim about everything there is to know about you, what you like, your past hyperfixations, important information, stuff you’ve mentioned you wanted.

you are both his home and lockscreen and everytime he sees your face pop up on his phone his heart flutters a bit.

you’re pinned to the top of his messages and the only person he has notifications on for. everyone else is on silenced, and he only has a total of 4 other contacts saved that aren’t you. his dad, his sister, chad and tara. he didn’t even bother for mindy, anika or sam; and besides them he knows no one else.

he’d drop anything for you in seconds, no matter how important it was. all you have to do is ask, and god forbid if you beg him. he’d drop to his knees right there. even if he was in the middle of an important family meeting about how to continue executing the ghostface plan, if you beg him to cancel (not knowing what exactly it was he had to do anyway) or even gloss your eyes slightly to give him the illusion of tears he’s all yours for the rest of the day.

he’s extremely touch deprived and is awkward when initiating it unless it’s something like slinging his arm over your shoulder, which he never once had a problem with. you’re usually always the first to initiate hand holding and cuddles, which he’s so grateful for. he doesn’t know how to go about asking.

when you do hold hands though, he’ll literally never let you go. even if you have to leave, do something with two hands or just try to remove your hand from his; he’ll tighten his grip (not so rough that it hurts) to stop you from doing do without even noticing, so you basically have to ask him to stop holding your hand which is far more embarrassing than just letting go, but he really doesn’t even notice when he does this.

he loves the way you smell, and there has definitely been a number of times where you catch him sniffing your hair on the perfume/cologne on your neck, potentially even asking you for the name of it so he can go out and get his own to spray on his pillows and a few of his shirts.

this also applies with your shampoo and conditioner. he doesn’t primarily use the ones that you do, but he’s got the exact type stored under a cabinet so that when he’s particularly missing you he’ll use them in his locks instead of his usual kind.

sharing headphones and having a joint playlist is a must with him. you two have a collaborative playlist that you both add songs to and listen to when you’re together that ethan has just started listening to constantly now.

he doesn’t have much social media. he doesn’t have snapchat. he does have an instagram that you forced him to download just so you could send him reels but he never posts on it. he has tiktok, but he’s literally just not logged in so he doesn’t have an actual account. he does have twitch though which is what he uses the most.

he’d never let anyone hurt you, and if they do he doesn’t just get angry, he becomes furious, their death much more brutal than any past ones. their was a time where he took a stab to the shoulder after quinn charged at you with a knife as ghostface, even after ethan specifically told her not to lay a finger on you. she hadn’t planned on killing you but she wanted to get a couple hits in, which ethan was extremely against. their father later lectured the both of them about the situation.

he specifically made sure you were at the hospital with mindy when the reveal went down.

NSFW !!

he really wasn’t lying about being a virgin, he had no idea how the body worked and he was always way too nervous to initiate anything sexual between the two of you.

you had definitely turned him on before, his dick growing hard at the sight or thought of you; and he always wondered what it would feel like to be buried deep inside you. or to have your pretty mouth wrapped around his shaft, gagging from his length and the vibrations of your moans sending shivers down his spine.

but no words could ever do justice to how it felt the first time you slept together.

he didn’t finish as fast as you assumed he would and actually did a decent job at holding out, but he definitely didn’t break any records or anything.

he’s 100% a switch, quick to go from whining and crying out for your touch to holding you down beneath him, hand pushing your jaw upwards and fingers carefully wrapped around you neck as he takes everything he wants and more; those are on his most aggressive days.

he loves receiving head more than he likes to give, but if you ask him he’s definitely eager to please you. he’s just nervous he’s not doing well, and to be quite honest he’s not the greatest at picking up your body language at what you’re enjoying and what you’re not unless you really make it noticeable.

one of his favorite things is the sounds you make. he absolutely hates it when you try to silence or muffle your noises, making sure to go harder or rougher so that you’re not able to even try.

he buries his head in your neck as he’s rutting into you, watching the way your body bounces around his dick and unable to stop his own sounds from falling out as his mind goes blank in ecstasy.

he’s more of a whiny and grunty type than a whimper guy, but there are definitely moments when a string of curses mixed with desperate whimpers fall from his lips.

when he’s feeling more violent and powerful, he’ll definitely take it out on you in the bedroom, pounding into you ruthlessly and breath shaking as a bead of sweat forms on his forehead, the only thing able to clear his mind is being deep inside of you.

started 08.05.23. finished 08.05.23.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n : idk how I feel ab this one it’s kinda low tier effort but wanted to get smth out today🙏 make sure to leave notes, reblogs and comment!!

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