#i like food man not labs

[cursedauxiliary]

I hate thinking about the future and my career bro, I just did bio and just went with the flow, no true passions in hs is really biting me in the ass

[starry-bi-sky]

how do you clone a fey? that's trick question; and fey love those!

@the-navistar-carol (<333) brought up a good point while I was talking about my changeling danny au with her -- Dani! How would she exist in this au? Danny's a changeling - a fae. How would Dani, a clone of him, be created? How do you make a fey? Not through any means that Vlad is doing; you can't make a fey through unnatural means, considering the Fair Folk are nature. And Vlad's not a fey himself -- he's a halfa, even if he could make a fey, it's not in his best interest too. He's a powerful ghost, but even the weakest fae can overpower the strongest ghost. He won't want a clone of Daniel to be more powerful than him.

(In a three tier hierarchy it goes Ancients -> Fae/Mythos -> Ghosts. They all live in the Infinite Realms, but on different Planes. The fae live above the Ghost Zone in the Fey Wild, while the Mythos live beside the Wilds or down in the ghost zone depending on where they are. Places like the Frozone, the Athens Acropolis, and other such large islands climb throughout all three Planes.)

(While Ghosts can travel into the Fey Wild, its generally advised against as the ectoplasm tends to manifest differently there due to close contact magic. It can make it rather disorientating for a ghost, and as human spirits, the Fae living there would jump them faster than they could blink. So unless you're willing to play mind games with 'steal thy name eat thy face' fae, most ghosts keep out of the way of the Wilds. Fey can travel down into the Ghost Zone, they just don't bother.)

That's of course, not taking into account if Vlad even knows Danny's a fae himself. Vlad doesn't ring me as someone who really cares much about ghost culture or the going ons of the GZ. He might be aware that fae exist, but the moment he realizes he can't use them for personal gain he just doesn't bother with them. The risk is greater than the reward, and he'd rather not get eaten. But lets assume he's aware by now that Danny is fey, and has to take that into account while cloning him.

So, how does Dani exist? Good question! Honestly; i'm not sure. She might not exist at all, or if she does, she's more halfa than fey. Vlad would need a lot of human dna and ectoplasm to balance out all that fae magic. He manages to steal DNA from Jack and Maddie to do it, and since Jack's fey ancestry is very dormant its much easier to use alongside Danny's DNA.

In turn, it results in a little girl whose more human-ghost hybrid than clone. With that little extra boost in fey magic making her not a fey, but still relatively powerful. Dani is less of a clone and more of a lab-grown little sister. It's a rather tedious, complex process that has Vlad tearing his hair out trying to figure out. But he does eventually figure it out.

[lintwriting]

some of y’all are so weak when it comes to being horny. excuse me if you think that nobody can be into a milf young man pretending to be an old man with the prudiness of a fine young mistress, excuse me if you think the only way men can be attractive is if they’re peak gender role—muscled and abbed for days. what, you think I’m pretending to want to IMPREGNATE Shizun???? you think only a man designed to be a male power fantasy harem protagonist can be fuckable? stop projecting

don’t get me started on those who make Shen yuans prior self unimaginably pretty. fashionable clothing with tasteful glasses and a beautiful two block haircut and an ulzzang face.

don’t talk to me until you’ve thirsted imagining a horribly ugly incel Shen Yuan with a NON trendy short buzz cut that makes his fucking hair spiky thanks to how asian hair texture works, a weak chin, those terrible thin rectangle glasses that most real life nerds seem to land on, and an anime shirt ugly jacket combo that I saw everywhere growing up in a Asian American high school.

the algorithm brainrot has gotten to you if you can’t imagine old Shen Yuan that way, tbh. Mans was a lying flat syndrome hikkikimori neet aka an incel aka likely not the most interested in the extremely niche beauty standards that the algorithm pushes onto you, and trust me I’ve seen my share of Asian dudes that look like how I’ve described. God, I go on here and I feel like I’m TOO weird and freaky for thinking that Asian guys don’t gotta look like Pinterest boys to be beautiful.

[phantajam]

my hot take about descendants is that NONE of the core four were ready for a relationship until maybe like, the third movie (rant in tags)

[captainjonnitkessler]

I think I can trace my intense hatred for the whole "regulations are just corporate bullshit, building codes are just The Man's way of keeping you down, we should return to pre-industrial barter and trade systems" nonsense back to when I first started doing electrical work at one of the largest hospitals in the country.

I have had to learn so much about all the special conditions in the National Electric Code for healthcare systems. All the systems that keep hospitals running, all the redundancies and backups that make sure one disaster or outage won't take out the hospital's life support, all the rules about different spaces within the hospital and the different standards that apply to each of them. And a lot of it is ridiculously over-engineered and overly redundant, but all of it is in the service of saving even one life from being lost to some wacky series of coincidences that could have been prevented with that redundancy.

I've done significantly less work in food production plants and the like, but I know they have similar standards to make sure the plants aren't going to explode or to make sure a careless maintenance tech isn't accidentally dropping screws into jars of baby food or whatever. And research labs have them to make sure some idiot doesn't leave a wrench inside a transformer and wreck a multi-million dollar machine when they try to switch it on.

Living in the self-sufficient commune is all fun and games until someone needs a kidney transplant and suddenly wants a clean, reliable hospital with doctors that are subject to some kind of overseeing body, is my point.

[amber-isnt-a-precious-stone]

my mental illness™ is like i can take paracetamol and ibuprofen at work in front of people only if i have a cold/flu... if I'm having a pain flare up that's the biggest fucking shame/guilt secret and i must hide medicine in my pocket and take it secretly in the bathroom .__.

[spatialwave]

just one more.

➸ ask: “Hey! How about “one more kiss, please” from the prompt list for Jayce. I just need him desperately yearning for reader” – ➸ pairing: jayce talis x gn!reader ➸ word count: 1.3k ➸ tags: mdni! fluff, kissing, yearning, mutual pining, gender-neutral reader, no mention of y/n. ➸ notes: tysm for asking! ask came from this prompt!

You couldn’t count on ten fingers how many nights you dreamt of Jayce Talis, the Man of Progress himself. The image of him rattled through your mind at every waking hour, that stupid smile you always wanted to wipe from his lips with your own. 

What you hadn’t known was how he reciprocated the sentiment. Jayce would find you at your workstation, dirt on your face and welding goggles on as you carefully put together pieces that would host the hextech gemstones for further research. You had become a treasure to him, someone he could rely on when his days were busy, which were more often than not.

There were plenty of times you hadn’t been aware of his presence, he would stand in the doorway watching you work. Hearts for eyes and forcing himself to turn away before his heart ached too much, knowing that you weren’t his.

He yearned for you each day, staying up into the late hours, wondering if you felt the same.

How could you? You were too…perfect. 

It was the night of one of Piltover’s illustrious charity events that brought in only the richest of citizens. Any and all who put in their well-earned money for the academy, and you, had been invited by Jayce himself. Viktor had decided against it, not so much inclined to spend his night at another event when he could be spending his evening in the lab with Sky.

So, you took his spot – and you did not belong.

With your hand wrapped around an empty glass which once held a darkened liquor, you stood off to the side in the large area that had been decorated so elegantly. The tunes of the live music and sounds of chatter filled your ears, eyes looking amongst the swarm of rich Piltovians sharing conversation about gods knows what.

Jayce had been everywhere and nowhere, the Golden Boy was easily the most important icon of the evening. Everyone wanted to talk with him, ask about his research and his plans for improvement of the city. 

It was irritating to be stuck alone, but at least the invitation filled your stomach with top-shelf food and liquor you wouldn’t be able to afford yourself.

There Jayce stood amongst a group of rich folk, eating him up, just like you knew they would. He was surrounded, a big smile on his lips as he moved his way through each conversation with his natural knack of charisma. You wondered what he was talking about, watching his lips move as he spoke so goddamn passionately, hands flying with each word. 

His eyes connected with yours at one point, lingering on you for a quick moment with that stupid smile, before his attention was enraptured by another generous donor.

After a few more minutes of watching, you gave up. There was nothing else for you here.

Footsteps clicked along the surface of the tiled floors, the empty halls more inviting than the gala ever was. Your fingers dragged along the surface of the brick walls, the liquor having left you in just the perfect amount of bliss as you made your way home, knowing you could sleep the next day away.

“Hey!” A voice called from behind you, startling you with a soft gasp.

You snapped your head around, eyes widening when they settled on Jayce hurrying down the hall behind you. He wore a smile, wearing too fancy of clothing to be chasing you down.

“Why are you leaving?” He asked once he reached a few steps away of you, breathing a bit heavy, “Sorry… out of breath,” he chuckled through deep inhales, “I didn’t think I’d catch up to you.”

The thumping of your heart against your rib cage didn’t go unnoticed, stilled in silence over the fact that he chased after you. A tiny smile spread across your lips.

“It’s not really my style,” you finally replied, hands landing on your hips, “why do you care if I leave?”

“Why do I care?” Jayce’s eyebrows furrowed together, “because I invited you here. I… I want you here.”

You hated how sweet he was.

“You’re a busy man, Jayce,” you smiled, offering a slight shake of your head as you stepped toward him, better seeing him under the dim lighting of the empty hallways, “I’m not too fond of just standing around watching you get swarmed by every wealthy person from Piltover. As inviting as that sounds.”

He snorted out a laugh, eyes watching you closely as you stepped directly below one of the overhanging lights. It illuminated your features perfectly, made you appear like a glowing angel.

“So, you’re just going to leave me here by myself?” He asked, those big eyes of his making you want to melt right into the floor beneath you.

You laughed in disbelief, raising an eyebrow, “you’re not alone.”

“But I want you here,” he was adamant, eyebrows furrowing again, “come on. It’s not that bad.”

“You’re annoying,” you groaned, trying to act like this was worse than it was. You had a flair for the dramatics when you needed to pull something out from your sleeve, “I’ll see you tomorrow anyway, it’s fine,” you brushed him off with a wave of your hand, “plus, you’re going to be busy all night, so if I stay, I’ll end up getting drunk by myself and that’s never turned out well for me.”

Jayce’s eyes flickered over your face, studying your expression carefully. Neither of you had realized how close you had gotten, close enough that he could tuck back some of your hair behind your ear. The movement of his hand made you both tense up, a fleeting touch that he hadn’t realized he’d done. Fingers brushed against the shell of your ear as he pulled his hand away, redness tinting his cheeks.

“Oh, uh–” he forced out an awkward laugh, eyes now looking anywhere other than your face, “you had some hair… in your face.”

Lips parted, but you couldn’t speak. His touched left you stunned in place, eyes big as you watched him. You watched as his eyes focused somewhere along the walls, hands balling into tense fists and teeth biting at his lower lip.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the late hour of the night, but you hadn’t the slightest care in the world anymore. All you wanted was Jayce, and it was his fault that he made you feel this way, so you were going to pull him into the mess that was you.

Even if it ruined the friendship you worked so hard to maintain, all these years.

His amber eyes landed back on you when he felt your hands reaching to his cheeks, cupping his face oh-so delicately. They widened as he watched you lean closer, noticing the way your gaze flickered down to his lips he’d been habitually chewing on all evening.

Jayce’s heart fluttered, and he acted on what felt right. Meeting you halfway and sighing when your lips touched after years of imagining what this would feel like. 

Both hands reached out for you, resting on your waist as he pressed forward. The kiss developed slowly, lips moving together a bit clumsily as your patience wore thin. Hands explored each other, touching hips and shoulders, and your tongue slipped from between your lips, and that’s when you froze.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you pulled back, taking a slight step away, “sorry–”

“No, don’t,” he whispered, closing the distance with a forward step until your chests were pressed together. He stared deep into your eyes, his own full of love as his gaze continued to flicker down to your lips that he needed to taste again, “one more kiss… please.”

You smiled like an idiot.

“Just one more,” you murmured, rolling your eyes affectionately, before he pulled you back into another kiss that took the breath from your lungs.

Jayce would be the death of you.

[lunamugetsu]

Danny is a house husband.

That's it, that's all it is.

As the years went on. Danny retired from being a superhero. There was no need for Phantom when the GIW were dealt with and all the ghosts were under control.

Now what's left for him to do but to just sit back, relax, and finally be able to live his life.

Sam and Tucker on the other hand....

Well, they had plenty of pent up rage, wits, and chaos inside their mind to become villains.

But they had one rule.

Never bring work home and to never involve Danny in any of their supervillain business.

Okay that's technically two rules, but they're kind of synonymous especially since Danny has been taking care of their house while also entertaining himself with trying new hobbies.

Tucker and Sam both make sure that they never bring any of their villainy home to Danny, because all they want is for Danny to enjoy his happy hero retirement.

And Danny in turn, doesn't bat an eye when watching the news and seeing that there were magical plants that were attacking sites that oil companies were digging or that somehow Lex Luthor had lost five hundred million dollars and had somehow leaked records showing he was building weapons of mass destruction.

He also doesn't bat an eye when he sees that Tucker had brought home a telescope that definitely looks like it came from some fancy lab because hey, Tucker was making him an observatory so he can look at the stars and planets. While also how they were able to make a great gaming pc with computer parts that are definitely not sold in stores, because hey at least the newest update of Doomed wasn't lagging.

Or that Sam comes home with various plants and animals that are definitely not from planet earth, but hey the three headed wolf-lizard-eagle- hybrid thing (that Danny has affectionately named Fluffy) is pretty great at keeping the pests away from his vegetable garden and likes to eat any of Danny's new food creations and is a great playmate for Cujo.

So you can imagine how the Justice League thinks when dealing with the pair of new villains: Upload (Tucker) and Sam (I could not think of a villain name that would suit her, so it's up to you what you think her villain name would be)

And how they were currently wreaking havoc in the city either by cyber warfare with robots or by magic plant monster or a Frankenstein of both approaches. The heroes had all evacuated the civilians from the battle zone and are currently fighting a losing battle. When they've been effectively captured and restrained by the two. Right before the villains could go into a monologue, they hear a person clearing their throat.

Everybody looks to see a 25 year old man wearing a sweater vest (he made it himself, thank you very much) currently holding onto the leash of a giant glowing green dog and some kind of giant animal hybrid. The man's arms were crossed and was currently not sporting a very happy look on his face.

Tucker and Sam (looking at Danny with hesitant smiles): Hi honey.

Danny (frowning): you missed our anniversary dinner.

Tucker and Sam both pale as they quickly realized what the date and time was.

The league all watch as Sam and Tucker immediately start apologizing to the man that just walked into a battle zone.

Danny (still frowning): Hmph! I guess since you two didn't want dinner you can go back to your little fight. Don't expect me to make you any lunches for the next month, and since you two are having so much fun here, you'll be sleeping by yourselves for the next couple weeks.

The league all watch as they were let go as Sam and Tucker yell as they run after Danny yelling apologies as he was walking away from them.

This is not the last they see of Danny.

When Danny is displeased with either of his partners, he'll invite a hero over to have lunch of afternoon tea.

[evilminji]

Been Watching Weird Fruit Explorer(?)... and I just...

W-Who let Bored Danny have BooTube?

Sorry, YOU-Tube. He has TWO Apps now. BooTube is bigger. Way more random, yet... somehow more niche? Meh. It's what happens when you get billions of billions of people who all have their own Obsessions to rant over, on a site.

Ember's channel is pretty lit, tho, ngl.

He stopped using YOU-Tube almost overnight. Too many ads, weird algorithmic pushiness. No thanks. It was too small and too "trying to take my money". You know?

Buuuuut? See.... TUCKER is the Tech guy.

Coding and that sort of stuff. HE does hands on work. You want a toaster? He can MAKE you a toaster! With LAZERS! Runs off The Goo! But a program? Eeeeeeeh? Hit it with hammer maybe? Monkey make fire? Hit with stick? Blergh.

Yeah, he can SORTA push through.

But he suuuucks.

And like... he had a headache, okay? His project had just, quiet literally, exploded in his face. So when he looked at his phone? All the apps were blobs. He clicked the one that LOOKED kinda right. Shoved his arm in his phone and brute forced a channel set up.

He figured he could ramble about Space!

It's not like he cared is anyone LISTENS or not! It's a "for him" thing, you know? Like a diary. But more... putting on a ☆~show~☆?

So he rambles from the floor of his Lair's Lab, crashs and wails in the distance, green sky occasionally visible as he lazily floats by windows. Dropping... juuuust past human knowledge understanding of Space. Talking like he's STUDYING somewhere. Referencing PAPERS no human will ever be able to find.

But a few they WILL.

Some of which, are currently? Only half written.

But then? Oh YEAH... he should eat! You know... Sam keeps bringing him fruits and veggies and stuff from her internship at that Botanical Lair. Stuff never seen before of Earth. Or hasn't been seen in centuries.

Again, like, a FEW that? Randomly? Have???

He picks up something sharply purple, bright orange insides. Crisp crunch. He makes a face. And starts to ramble about it, distracted from Space. "Weirdly mushroom-y" he notes. "Kinda bubblegum sweet? But like... CHEAP bubblegum. Like it hits you all at once and is kinda chemically. But it disappears real fast? Huh. Spicy too..."

It's the first video on the Playlist. One of hundreds. Two of the green Lanterns RECONIZE that fruit ad HIGHLY toxic to humans, can't recognize what planet they're seeing. Or how this alien teen got himself on YouTube.

He seems... unaware of how incredibly famous he's become.

But his strange techno Pharoah friend has not. HE is both perfectly aware and apparently amused. Has taken to feeding him rare and hazardous flora and fauna, to see if it tastes good.

....there have been an alarming number of plants from dead planets.

And the comments the kid makes? Alarming as hell.

Sam's just pleased everybody's getting their greens. Danny's glad him n tuck get to hang and do "try weird foods and fuck around, bro time". They've made lazers! Talked about stuff! Debated why Martian Manhunter is THE superior Justice League member.

Danny understands. Wonder Woman is a BAMF. But he's biased, Tucker. He doesn't CARE if she has a sword and flowy, impressive locks! Shape-shifting telepath! From MARS!!! *imaginary mic drop*

And Tucker? Is conquering the YouTube scene with this charming, weird, relatable young alien. Who rambles about Space, debates nerd stuff, eats weird plants and describes them, and makes sci-fi technology! Theme? WHAT THEME? Phantom is a weird channel, man. You never know what you'll find!

And no one can get rid of it.

Believe them, governments have TRIED. Censorship? Not possible. Not without removing the whole SITE.

[bunnis-monsters]

Experimenting

Male!Vampire Scientist x Fem!Experiment Reader

Bunni’s Monstertober Event

Oct 18th

Oct 17

Oct 19

summary: when a vampire needs a source of unlimited blood, he turns to science. You’re his experiment, and a bit spoiled…

warnings: blood drinking, cock warming, male lead is a bit manipulative

a/n: shut up if I have any spelling mistakes 🙏 I’m trying to catch up

You let out an annoyed whine as he poked his head into your room. You were in the middle of a movie, eating a snack.

“Darling~”

He walked in, throwing his lab coat aside and jumping into your bed. The man had a habit of coming to you after a long day in the lab, being clingy and over baring.

“H-hey, don’t jump in my bed before you wash up!”

You pouted, squirming as he pulled you on his lap and rubbed his cheek against your neck.

“Oh, don’t fuss my dear… you know I just adore you, it’s hard to stay away for long.”

Before you could whine anymore, he moved his hand between your thighs, pressing against your wet panties.

“Don’t you remember who saved you? Who’s spoiled you rotten?”

You did remember.

Before you had been living on the street, hungry and barely hanging on. One night you were caught in the middle of a shoot out, and nearly died from blood loss,

He found you curled up in an alleyway, buried beneath trash and filth. You had already died, not even turning you into a vampire could bring you back…

So he used the knowledge he had gained from his research so far from both science and witchcraft to give you life.

One of the side effects was that you overproduce blood, and had to be drained daily. It was a happy surprise, and he decided to keep you for himself as his blood bag.

You were kept in a sterile section of his lap, your bed a plain cot and your food some sort of nutritional mush.

It was hardly the place for a girl… but it would do. You were just an experiment, after all.

That had been his idea at first, to keep you in his laboratory and feed from you every once in a while… but he grew fond of you quickly.

A room was decorated with your interests in mind, and he made sure you were comfortable and had everything you could ever want.

You were almost like his doll, something he could play with when he was bored. He dressed you up, kept you in a pretty room… you were his perfect, pretty little doll.

That’s what he told himself. In all reality, he truly cared for you. Once you bring someone back from death and care for them for months while they recover, you become fond of that person and want to see them thrive.

As he thought this over, your memory was a bit different.

You reached out for him to help you, and he carried you back to his lab himself, not caring that you were dirty and smelled of decay.

Your spirit watched as he carefully cleaned and stitched up your broken body, his hands gentle and caring. Even though you were simply a corpse, he still dressed you and placed a pillow under your head while he researched ways to save you at his desk.

When you woke up in your body, you were in something much softer than the ground you slept on every night. Every day you ate until you were full, and always had energy to walk around.

You weren’t hungry or cold or dirty anymore… that was enough for you, but he gave you even more! A room just for you, dressed and games and books and all the attention and love you could ever ask for…

But it was so hard to accept all of this, to really give in to being spoiled. Especially when you were crushing this hard on him…

His fangs brushed against your neck as he slipped the silk panties he bought for you aside. Lately his affections had turned from platonic to sexual, and he had been toying with you a lot.

Experimenting.

“I see… this is how wet you get when I rub here, hmm?”

He licked along your neck, eyes on your fat cunt as he flicked your clit, causing you to yelp and your hips to buck.

“H-hey…”

His cock hardened when you squirmed, your plump ass moving against his hard on. “That hurts…”

You were pouting, your face warm and flustered.

“So cute…”

He lifted your hips with ease, his cock rubbing against your cunt before he slowly lowered you into it.

Though you’d never taken cock before, he had been slowly stretching you out for weeks now, pumping his fingers in and out of you, getting you ready to take him.

You could only whine and whimper, embarrassed that it felt so good. You attempted to move, but he kept you still, his fingers toying with your clit.

“Relax, love…”

His fangs sunk into your neck, causing you to wiggle and writhe in mild discomfort, which made his cock twitch inside of you. The man continued to stimulate your clit as he fed from you.

Your soft body felt warm against him, and having your blood flowing through his felt intimate. You were connected in a way no one else could be.

As he finished up his feeding, he began lightly bouncing you, letting you ride out your orgasm as his cum spurted into your womb.

Afterwards you were tired and a bit cranky from the blood loss, so he carried you to a bath and washed you up before tucking you into bed.

Why did he do so much for you? He wasn’t sure… but you knew.

He loved you, his little experiment had become his mate and he hadn’t even noticed yet.

want more of this? my commissions and kofi are open!

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

[angelyuji]

yandere stanley and stanford pines somno thoughts :)

18+!!!

tw // somnophilia, noncon, dubcon, drugging, pls lmk if i missed any tags

sorry there’s a read more link, this one is a little intense so… mind the tws and tags pls🥰🥰

stan is not sneaky or quiet going into your room. he thinks he’s being quiet, but he’s not. after a couple times, he stops bothering. like it clicked for him that it doesn’t matter if you do wake up cuz either way you’re in his home and there’s no way out. no amount of screaming will save you either, like the shack is out in the woods.

the first time wasn’t on purpose, it was a heatwave and stan woke up around 2 am not being able to go back go sleep in the heat. sooo he goes to ur room to check on you, yk to see if you’ve fallen asleep yet or if ur awake like him. he’d go into your room and see the 4 different standing fans he bought for you turned on, and also see that you’re only sleeping in your underwear. the heat was killing you, so obviously you had to strip. immediately stan’s next to your bed, hand slowly messaging your naked chest. you moan a little in your sleep and stan takes that as a sign that you’re literally begging for him. like moaning??? in your sleep??? ok SLUT. same thing next evening, except stan goes farther. and like he’s been out of the game for so long yk so he’s just curious. and like it’s not his fault you were tempting him, he’s an old man. he takes a couple risks: kissing you, pushing a couple fingers into your mouth or hole to see how much of him you could take. by day 3, he’ll see that your body is being conditioned to respond to his touch and he’s actually gonna lose it.

your eyes flutter open, a moan falling from your lips, as you feel something press against your heat. “hey there, dollface.” stan grins at you and you jolt awake, trying to move away.

“stan, don’t! get-”

stan grabs your waist and pulls you back, cutting you off, “no point in trying to run, baby.” he flips you over, pushing your face into the pillow. he gets to his knees and pushes into you, stopping to feel the melting heat.

“s-stan p-please” you moan, muffled by the pillow.

“please what, sugar.” stan grins as you try to move your hips. he grabs a fistful of your hair, making you arch to look at him.

“please, please keep going”

ford is the sorta the opposite of stan like he couldve been doing this to you for months and you wouldve never known. like he definitely crushes up some sleeping pills into your food when you’re not looking. he knows what he’s doing is wrong and knows he should stop, but he can’t help it, you’re just so beautiful.

i feel like first time it happened, it was probably when you fell asleep in his lab. you had stayed with him to do some research and when you fell asleep, he decided to carry you to bed. the warmth of your body against his was enough to get him flustered, but when he laid you down, he took the opportunity to press a kiss to your mouth. and dude… he was immediately devastatingly horny like one kiss almost took him out. he definitely booked it out of your room out of embarrassment (even though you weren’t conscious to see) after this, he didn’t make eye contact with you or talk to you for a couple days. you end up confronting him about it and instead of telling you his feelings, he decided that he should just drug you to keep using you without having to vulnerable.

i feel like every time he does this, even if you’re not awake, he’s apologizing to you and making sure that you cum too. like he feels sooo bad for doing this to you, but like the guilts not gonna stop him. the only reason you ever realized is cuz he fucked up on the pills and you woke up to him pounding into you like a rabbit.

“f-ford, get off me.” you could feel every inch of him as he held you close. you try to push him off you, but instead he folds you in half, legs hooking his shoulders.

in this position, you could hardly think or breathe, he went deep and hard into you. as he gets quicker, he starts to mumble into your ear, “i can’t stop, i-i’m sorry, i’m s-so sorry.” he bites into your shoulder and you moan. “you just feel so good.”

for both ford and stan, once you wake up to them using you and you end up not telling anyone what happened, they’ll take that as a green light to keep doing this to you. and then it evolves from at night while you’re sleeping to the afternoon in a public mall bathroom.

(i kinda want to write about that now… but also… tutor!ford x reader… stan x babysitter!reader… im thinking thoughts…)

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ You invite them to live in your Serenitea Pot

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe 

After prolonged years of adventuring, traveling, and battling, you decided it was the appropriate moment to invite your partner to your Serenitea Pot. It’s like inviting a significant other to move in with you, right? You are delighted, and even though your beloved is acting honored and calm on the outside, little do you know - he is secretly screaming with victory on the inside. 

✧ A tender smile graced Pierro’s cold expression. The first time you spoke about him taking residence along with you in your Serenitea Pot mansion, The Jester's inner machination was already planning a wedding. He loved you, with every fiber of his being. And whether you decide to live in the grand Snezhnayan Palace or somewhere private, it won’t hinder his plans to spoil you as his beloved.

It was all according to plan. You wake up, breakfast is already prepared. You start your day, the house is already cleaned. You wish to rest, his arms are already open.

He took his duties as a resident of your humble abode as if he were the househusband of this home. All matters were taken care of by him. And the fact that you two are already leading a private life together like a proper couple ignited his cold demeanor with softheartedness. It suited him; the commotion of the Fatui and Snezhnayan delegations were far away from you two. And with no peering eyes, the Fatui Director was busy with so many thoughts about your future: making your home better, showing himself as a man who would coddle you all day long, choosing a ring for you…

“Dear? You are deep in thoughts again,” - You called out suddenly, your gentle voice breaking his train of vehement thoughts. “I told you, you’re here to rest, not overwork yourself with chores!”

“Ah, my apologies. It seems I was lost in my mind once more. You know my habit of preparedness is often prevalent.”

✧ The honorable Il Capitano went silent the first time you invited him, and his pitch-black helmet did not provide any clues to his already stoic body language. At first, you hesitated. Perhaps he did not feel comfortable taking such an importan-

Next thing you know, the mighty captain is kneeling in front of you, his head hung low in utter reverence. “It would be my greatest honor to receive your blessings. I shall conduct myself with utmost obedience in your domain.”

“Goodness gracious, It’s just my house, Capitano! Not the Tsaritsa’s throne!” 

After much convincing and assurance, you finally had The First of the Harbingers in your dwelling. In the beginning, you pondered, what a man of his caliber would do in his private time. Perhaps more training, or planning for battles? You decided to create a separate area for weaponry storage and training duels. After all, you wanted to be considerate.

To your surprise, Capitano never brought his “work” in the privacy of your home. Instead, he treated you to some of the best home cooking in the seven nations. With a broad outdoor area like your Serenitea Pot, Il Capitano finally managed to flex his grilling skills. You never knew BBQ grilled vegetables could taste so heavenly. And on colder nights, he preferred some home baking.

“Who would’ve thought the strongest man in Teyvat relished such a peaceful routine when he’s at home,” - You teased him once. Feasting like a monarch with his cooking, you have your cherished prepare the best food and provide the strongest cuddles - what else would you need?

“I would never bring you the turbulence of war to the footsteps of your home. After all, mundanity is a luxury that the common folk cannot comprehend.”

✧ When Il Dottore moved in with you - he became an absolute menace to your mental well-being. The upper floor of your manor was entirely occupied for his scholarly needs. From your library to your study; the upper rooms were regaled, making a mini makeshift lab filled with vials of obscure chemicals or too-long-to-read medical names.

But that was not the main issue at all. The greatest conundrum was that Dottore considered your privacy as our privacy. According to him, the Serenitea Pot was a private residence, secluded from the turmoil of the world’s idiocracy. Any temporary visitors would receive a nasty glare from him whenever they stayed. This was his confidential sanctuary with you, not theirs. And in his private time, when it’s only you and him in the house, the Doctor would forget that people often get dressed after a shower - because he would exit the bathroom wearing only a towel around his hips, and keep waltzing around your room like it’s nothing.

“...Uh? Please dress first, Dottore.”

“Very well.”

“Not here!!!”

Nevertheless, you managed all that. What you didn’t manage, however, is how Dottore took the most amount of space in bed. Your bed, mind you. Before he joined your travels, you created a comfy bedroom in your Serenitea Pot, a separate, quiet setting for your favorite mad scholar. Alas, every night you peacefully went to bed, only to wake up with a figure wrapping his arms tightly around your midsection, taking half of your bed.

Today was one of those days. The blankets were a mess, some had fallen to the floor. You feel uncomfortable and claustrophobic in your own bed, something nudging you to almost fall off. You already knew the culprit of your situation - Dottore. He was dozing off comfortably behind you, his arms sleepily thrown around your form, glued to your torso.

You whined groggily, trying to get away - “... You have your own bed. Stop pushing me.”

“Shush. Come here.” - Dottore's arms encircled around your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. “It’s our bed now.” 

It seems The Doctor didn’t take long to feel at home. Oh well. The only way to deal with this was to use him as a mattress from now on.

✧ At first, you hesitated to invite Scaramouche to your Serenitea Pot. It was still a work in progress, and not all areas were refurbished or prepared. Yet surprisingly, it was he who opened the discussion of a joint dwelling. Perhaps it was his instinct to keep you closer, to be certain of your safety in his arms.

After asking and discussing, you were pleasantly surprised when the Balladeer stated: “I do not expect you to build a palace. I will help you with the renovation. You can ask for my help.”

And so he did. You felt timid with your emptied Serenitea Pot, yet The Harbinger took it upon himself to aid you. He worked with you on where the house should be, and what type of garden or entrance should accompany it. There was something about his serious gaze whenever he discussed with you the matters of home. As if some old memories were reemerging.

“It doesn't matter. We won’t clutter the place, as a busy environment becomes a nuisance. The less one has - the better.”

With a profound touch of contemplation and minimalism, You and Scaramouche managed to plan an elegant abode. It was simple, yet perfectly maintained - with the best aspects of Inazuma and other foreign nations in the craftsmanship of the furniture. You were surprised but content. You even went as far as to ask your beloved whether he wanted a more traditional Inazuman style for this private dwelling but he strictly rejected it.

He didn’t want any more memories of his “birthplace” to resurface. Not in a place that will be private for you two.

So here you were, giddy with excitement as the interior of your manor was settled and ready. The bedroom was cozy and comfortable, a perfect place to lounge and rest. The Harbinger would groan whenever you tugged and pulled him to sleep next to you. 

��If you move once in your sleep, I’m pushing you off the bed.” 

You promised him you wouldn’t. But it was he who relented and held you close to his chest during the night. He did not need a home or a safe haven from the cruel world; You were already his home. 

✧ Bring in the fine china, and roll out the red carpet - because Pantalone was coming over to your Serenitea Pot. You know that your sweetheart has a manor pricier than Mondstadt’s entire GDP, with fancy knick-knacks and luxuries. But as a couple, it was always Pantalone who insisted on you living with him, since he could spoil and pamper you after long travel expeditions. In his manor, you can simply have everything you ever desire. 

But today was a grand occasion. You decided to invite him to your humble home, even if you had little to impress him with. The Harbinger was ecstatic, this was a step he desired and longed for. Should he dress formal-casual or more extravagant? No, no. His hair must be well-kept. Perhaps he should bring an expensive bottle of Fontainian wine… The evening must end flawlessly. It’s his first night in your home, for crying out loud. An evening designated to culminate with lovely cuddles in your bed, lavishing you with kisses or more. 

Upon entering your cozy home, all his worries dissipated after you embraced him in your usual jovial way. You proudly displayed your manor, tugging at his hand and pulling him closer. Mirroring your pride, he stood analyzing each item or furniture as if it were a priceless relic in a museum.

“Ah, yes. I see this must be a traditional Inazuman doll, one used in ancient arts and rituals.”

“Oh, these round things? This is just a tanuki daruma… They bounce funny.”

“And I see this figurine must be imported as well, my dear? A marvelous craftsmanship of wood and carvings. Interesting.”

“This is just a wooden figurine of an Aranara” - you smiled proudly.

“I like your funny words, darling.” 

✧ If Tartaglia never invited you over to his family home back in Snezhnaya, you would’ve thought this man was homeless. The 11th often stayed in your Serenitea Pot, always giddy yet conscientious. Whenever you wished for any help around the house, his sleeves would roll up and the apron was on; all you had to do was ask, and you shall receive.

Thus, the two of you would help each other. If you were cooking, then he would do the laundry; all chores were equally divided. Childe was naturally hardworking, and you loved him for his dedication to the house. It always felt warmer and cozier whenever he stayed, and you made sure to display your appreciation throughout the day by providing kisses to the cheek or gentle caresses to his hair.

Who wouldn’t be thrilled when their beloved greets them home and kisses them on the cheek? Now that he is residing in your private adeptal realm, it makes him look forward to returning home even more. To be back from a mission, only to kiss you, pick you up, and squeeze you lovingly in his arms.

Alas, despite his domestic joy, he was also becoming restless. Such a huge realm, you could have a whole area for dueling or training an army here. Therefore, he would start nagging at you throughout the day, asking you to join him.

“Come now, sweetheart! Just a quick morning stretch!” - He said from the living room’s doorway.

“Oh, I know! How about we make a shooting range outdoors and see who’ll get the most bullseye.” - his voice rang from downstairs.

“Or a one-on-one sparring match. That will get the blood flowing.” - he even stood behind the bathroom door, still imploring you through closed doors.

All this and more persisted. Even in the early morning, when your eyesight barely adjusted to the sunlight, the first thing you’d see is him leaning over your shoulders “Perhaps we can-” 

“Nope,” - you intercepted, albeit sleepily. Pulling him closer to bed, you made sure he went still in your arms. “No fighting. Only cuddles...”

“Oh? Is that your form of a challenge, darling? Be prepared, because I won't back down.”

[unoislazy]

For Me?

Vi x Piltover! Reader

Vi deserves the world and a partner that cares about her. Being from Zaun comes with its insecurities when being with someone from Piltover. Luckily, you know exactly how to counter them.

A/N: You guys wont have to worry about that much angst from me for a while, I need to cope from act 3 by giving Vi the best life possible and all the fluff imaginable because oh my god??

There were times when you’d think back to when and how you and your girlfriend met for the first time. Such a chance of it happening was very slim given you two belonged to two different cities, you Piltover, her Zaun. You never thought the girl who rammed into you after fleeing from an explosion from an unauthorized lab would one day come back into your life. 

The story of your reunion however was quite the convoluted one. Once again, a meeting set by nothing but pure fate and chance. 

You weren’t supposed to be at Zaun at the time. In fact, you weren’t supposed to be in Zaun at all. You went on your own, against your family's wishes, for the sake of immersing yourself in a culture that is not your own. You were raised to believe that the people of the undercity were monsters, the filth under Piltover's feet, nothing more than animals. It never felt right to you, there had to be more to it. After all, they were people too.

So, you went to see for yourself how awful these “animals” really were. 

You knew better than to walk in expecting everything to be rainbows and unicorns, but you refused to let go of your optimism as you traveled around the labyrinth like maze of streets and alleyways. 

It wasn’t until the smell of a peculiar type of food filled your senses. 

You didn’t know what it was, it was very different from anything you had ever tried before, so you decided to check it out.  

Once there, you were greeted by a fairly jolly fish-like man with a large smile. He laughed heartily, gesturing for you to take a seat and gave you a list of things to choose from. There were so many options, you had no idea where to start, and it wasn’t until you heard someone else set directly beside you did you finally have an idea. 

You looked to your left and were quickly met with a head of bright pink hair. Quite a unique shade which you could’ve sworn you’d seen before, but you brushed the thought off. There were probably plenty of people with the same hair color, besides if there’s one thing you knew not to do in Zaun, it was to stare. 

You heard one of them, a woman, order something specific off of the fish man’s list, whom she referred to as Jericho. He happily took her order before turning to her friend who denied wanting anything, and then turning back to you. 

“I’ll have the same.” You said with a polite smile. Jericho nodded before turning around and getting right to work. As you waited, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the girl next to you once again, there was something familiar about her despite her back being turned to you for the most part. 

That was until her friend noticed you staring and began to pull her hood over her eyes which grabbed the pink haired girl's attention. She quickly turned around to face you with an angered look on her face, clearly ready to fight if need be.

“Can I help y-“ She began, but before she could finish it finally clicked with you. 

“You’re the girl.” You whispered, having not realized that maybe saying that to a girl who looked, for lack of a better phrase, like she could rock your shit, probably was not a good idea.

“I’m sorry?” She asked, clearly confused, but still clearly not happy about your interruption.

“That girl, from the explosion, that was you.” 

Her reaction to your realization was less than friendly, and you couldn’t blame her. You hadn’t known at the time but she had just gotten out of jail for that same crime. She didn’t know who you were, she didn’t know what you wanted, and she didn’t want to involve herself with more pilties than she needed. 

And yet despite everything, here she was, now living with you on her days when she wasn’t in Zaun. You had quite the rocky start in the beginning but you became useful to her quest for her sister, and the more time you spent with her, the closer you two got. At first she was a bit standoffish, not believing someone from topside was capable of showing so much empathy, if any. Yet somehow you proved her wrong. You chipped away at that stone wall she built around her heart all those years away in prison and became one of the few things she coveted most. 

You two didn’t live together all the time, but your house was always open to her as you had now managed to move away from your parents. You knew Vi could never stay topside for too long, and you’d never ask her to do such. So there were a few days here and there where she would stay with you, then go back to the undercity to continue to help out, then come back up with you.

Now today was the day for Vi to come back, so you decided to surprise her to the best of your ability with the dish she got from Jericho the day you two met once again. It was quite a feat that required you to go to the undercity a fair amount of times to visit Jericho and ask for help. Luckily the sweet man was more than happy to let you in on a few of his trade secrets for the sake of a thoughtful gift. 

You weren’t the biggest fan of this type of food, you’ve tried it on more than one occasion, but it very clearly wasn’t for you. 

But it was what Vi liked so that was enough. 

As you continued to cook, you heard your door open, without even needing to look you knew it was your partner walking through the door.

“Welcome back.” You greeted warmly. 

Just then, You felt two hands wriggle around your waist before the weight of her head rested on your shoulder. She tilted her head slightly, her face now moving towards your neck, enough for you to feel the light feeling of her breath wafting over your neck. 

You ignored the feeling to the best of your ability but you couldn’t ignore the small smile that made its way to your face, this of course didn’t go unnoticed by Vi as she mumbled against your neck, 

“What are you making?” She asked, pressing her body a bit more into yours. She had a tendency to be clingy after being away for long periods of time, which you didn’t mind. 

“Something new. Just got the recipe, I think you’ll like it.” You said with a smile, which earned a short chuckle from your girlfriend who turned to begin peppering light kisses against your neck.

“If it’s made by you Sunshine, of course I will.” She said sweetly, despite the fact she was trying to ‘discreetly’ distract you. It wasn’t actually very discreet but she thought it was and you weren’t going to correct her.

“It smells familiar.” She said quietly after pausing for a moment to look back over your shoulder.

“Means I’m doing something right then.” You said happily, glad that it was going well. Her confirmation that she at the very least was beginning to recognize it was enough to motivate you to continue. However despite your motivation it was clear your girlfriend still had other plans in mind. 

Her hands slowly began to move their way up from your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as her face remained by your neck. 

“Can I at least finish the food first?” You asked with a laugh as your left hand went up to lightly brush against Vi’s face, acknowledging what she was trying to do. 

She once again mumbled quietly against you before finally pulling away. 

“Fine.” She said with an overly dramatic sigh before continuing, 

“You’re no fun.” She teased as her hands slowly, reluctantly, left your sides as she moved to the counter next to the stove you were using to cook. She leaned the back of her waist against it, her arms crossed in front of her chest, as she looked at you with a look you could only describe as a lighthearted pout.

“Save that for later you just got back. You have to eat first.” You said in a somewhat stern manner, not looking away from the food cooking in front of you. 

“Who says I can’t have a bit of dessert first?” 

“Vi!” You exclaimed as you walked her softly with a cloth that you had placed by the stove. She laughed, a full genuine laugh, which she felt like she could only do near you. You were the only one to really bring it out of her at this point. 

“Just… go sit down, the food is almost done.” You instructed, turning back to the food as she chuckled once again before walking back towards you. Her hand made its way back to your waist once again as she leaned towards your ear,

“Can’t wait.” She whispered cheekily before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek and walking towards the dining room. 

You, being from a family who had lived in Piltover for quite some time, were able to afford a house with multiple furnished rooms with ease. It always threw Vi off just the slightest bit, the difference in what the two of you grew up with. It got to her more than she’d like to admit. A few times she believed herself to be holding you back, you came from a life of glittering buildings, and she came from nothing but metal scraps. 

You were so different and yet you always managed to remind her that it didn’t matter. She loved you for you and you loved her for her, wherever you came from had no effect on that.

Vi sat down in one of the few chairs in your dining room, looking around at the paintings that littered the walls, her previous thoughts remaining on her mind before she was interrupted by a plate of food entering her view and landing in front of her.

“Tada!” You exclaimed into the silent room, the only other sound being that of the plate lightly hitting the table. Vi sat in silence for a moment as she looked down at the food before her, it took her a moment before she recognized it.

“Wait. Did you-“ She began to ask.

“Find the recipe to your favorite dish from your favorite food stand? Maybe.” You responded with a proud smile as you sat down in the chair next to her, eager to have her try it. 

“How did you get the stuff for it?”

“Well, I visited a friend.” You said with a shrug. Vi looked towards you, her eyes wide with shock. As each moment passed she realized just how much effort went into this one dish.

“You hate this kind of stuff, why would you-“

“Cause I know you like it and I wanted to make it for you.” You said simply as you placed your hand atop hers.

Suddenly Vi couldn’t think of a response. Her sudden silence worried you almost, was she mad? Was she upset at you? 

You then looked at her eyes and watched as they softened, the powder blue irises glistened as water lightly began to form in them.

“Holy shit.” She said quietly, entirely taken aback as she sat back in her chair. For someone with such a tough exterior you could see the walls slightly begin to crack as she looked down at the food before her. It meant more than the world to her that you had put so much effort into something she liked, for her, and for no other reason. 

Just because you cared.

It had been a long time since Vi had been truly reminded she was loved. Just having such a simple yet, such a powerful reminder in the middle of nowhere by the one person she truly loved was almost disorienting. You went out of your way to get ingredients you couldn't get easily in Piltover, a recipe you had to go to a specific stand for, her favorite stand no less, and then put it all together?

“Vi?” You asked quietly, your other hand going up the cup to her face so she would look at you a bit more as you looked at her with a bit of concern. You didn’t expect such an emotional reaction from your gesture that you were worried you had done something wrong.

“Are you o-”

Before you could finish your question, Vi had turned to you quickly and engulfed you in a hug. This took you completely by surprise. In the time that you and Vi had been together, more often than not when it came to specifically hugging, you were the one to initiate. She just never seemed like the hugging type unless it was an occasion where she truly meant it.

And in this case, she did. 

“Thank you, Sunshine.” She said quietly as she squeezed just a bit tighter. Your hands rested against her back as you smiled, feeling as if you had done a job well done even without her trying her dish. You knew Vi had been through a lot over the years and while you didn’t know the full extent of everything just yet, you knew you could at least try to offer her some sort of comfort. So that’s what you strived for and it seems like that's what you succeeded to do. 

Once she pulled back from the hug, you reached up to wipe her tears, the smile still present on your face as you spoke. 

“Well, are you gonna try it?” You asked, to which she smiled and let out a slight chuckle. She then eagerly turned back around towards her plate and dug in as she usually did in the undercity. She knew you didn’t care about the messy nature that often came with Zaun cuisine, even if it wasn’t what you were raised on, it meant a lot to her that you at least tried it out. With one taste she immediately released a sound of pure bliss and dove back in for more.

You laughed, knowing that was Vi’s way of saying you had done a perfect job, even if she didn’t pause from her eating to just tell you so herself. 

[mrsbarnesblog]

Push him

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x PR manager! Reader

Summary: When you became Avenger’s PR manager, you basically got your dream job, but one particular man, who had been staring at you every single time you were around, made you wonder whether it was because he hated or liked you.

Word count: 6.8K

Warnings: smut, bucky is obsessed with your short skirts, bucky is recovering, grumpy x sunshine, good friend natasha romanoff, office sex, oral sex (f), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names

Author's note: ‼️so if you haven't seen my previous post, this is my new account. you may have seen this work on my old one (@inmyicyworld) but it was terminated and @support doesn't respond to me. please, follow and share this work. I'm going to reupload all of my old fanfics and hope to get your support ❤️

The work at the Avengers Tower wasn’t what you expected it to be. Tony Stark found you while you were working for another company a little bit more than a month ago. He was amazed by the way you were dealing with problems, by your charisma, and by your ability to find a common language with everyone. That’s how he knew that he had to have you as his partner and a part of the team.

The next day, you got a call directly from Tony, asking you to quit your job and accept his offer to work as Avenger’s PR manager. It would be an understatement to say that your jaw dropped to the floor when you heard your salary.

He said that you were totally worth it and that working with a group of such different people was not easy, but he was sure that you would be perfect at this. So on that exact day, you decided to take a risk and accept the challenge.

One thing that you hated about your previous job was the strict dress code. It was simply far from your style because you hated wearing the same basic and boring clothes every day. Tony said that it was the last thing that he cared about, and in that building, no one was obligated to wear certain clothes.

You knew that it was your lucky ticket.

He was actually really friendly and funny in person. You talked a lot during your first day while he was showing you all the necessary places in the tower: your office, his lab, common rooms and kitchens, avenger’s rooms, and even a beautiful garden on the roof. By the way, Tony allowed you to decorate your office however you wanted and gave you the number of the person who was responsible for this.

In short, it was perfect.

You were giddy with excitement on your first actual day of work. According to the plan, you had to meet with the Avengers and then arrange a few meetings for Tony.

It felt like you spent hours before your mirror deciding what to wear. Your whole room was a mess, and when you finally completed your look, which consisted of a short black skirt, beige long sleeve and a brown leather jacket on top, it was already time to go.

Everyone in the room heard you before they saw you because of the sound of your heels clicking on the wood floor.

“Don’t tell me that this is our PR manager, Stark.” Black Widow looked you up and down with a smirk on her face. “You look good, hun. Finally, someone with a taste in this boring group of losers, besides me and Wanda, of course.”

“Hi.” You nicely smiled, not ready to get a compliment as soon as you stepped into the room.

“Ohh, she’s also the sweet one.” Another red-headed woman, Wanda, said with a smile.

“You both, shut up.” Tony stood up from the armchair with a pack of chips in one hand and threw the other one over your shoulder. “Want some?” He asked you, showing the food, but you slightly shook your head. “Whatever… Now, you all listen here, this is Y/N; she’s our new PR manager. I stole her from someone because she’s incredibly smart and good at her job. Starting from this moment, she’s going to cover up your asses and organize all this stupid media stuff.” You blushed at his words but were still silent. “So, this is Natasha, Wanda, Steve, Bucky, and Th—wait, you already know them, right?”

“Yeah, of course I do.” You chuckled. “By the way, it’s nice to meet all of you. I hope we can work together, and I will have a chance to be helpful.” You took a look at all the Avengers in the room, and everyone looked at you with a smile except one person, whose eyes sent shivers down your spine.

When you looked at Bucky, you saw that his eyes were scanning your body with an unreadable expression, and you suddenly felt really weird in your short skirt. Your eyes met, and his famous death stare was really quite scary. He didn’t like you? You two were staring at each other for a few seconds, and you believe that the rest of the team noticed it because Steve loudly cleared his throat to get your attention.

He asked you a few questions about you, and Clint and Sam made a few jokes. Everything was fine as you all chatted for a little bit until Tony said that everyone should get ready for tomorrow’s mission, and you too have a lot to do.

You went back to your office only with the thought that, during this whole time, Bucky was staring at you like he wanted to burn a hole in your head.

Later that day, Bucky was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of already-cold coffee while Steve was making himself dinner. It was quiet besides the sound of the cooking food, or at least Bucky didn’t listen to Steve’s words because he was too deep in his thoughts.

Well, he was mostly thinking about you and his mixed feelings about this interaction. As soon as you walked into the room, you had his whole attention. He couldn’t help but stare at your body, at your open legs, and at your smiley face. He knew that he sounded like a total creep and that it was inappropriate to look at other people this way, but he had never seen women dress this way. Was it normal right now? Was it new fashion trends or something? The only women that he had been interacting with for the past few years were women from Wakanda, and in the tower it was mostly Nat and Wanda, and he had never seen them dress like that. Or, at least, he just didn’t care enough to notice it.

When he saw you today, he felt something in him, and he didn’t like that feeling. It was something new, something that he had never experienced before, but his body became tense and his stomach tightened. It was weird.

“What, you're still trying to process her?” He was distracted from his thoughts by Sam, who came to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge. Bucky looked at him and furrowed his brows when he saw a shitty smirk.

“What the fuck are you talking about? And why are you smiling like an idiot?” Bucky growled.

“Because you’re thinking about Y/N.” His words caught Steve’s attention, and he came closer.

“That’s why you two were staring at each other like that?” Steve said this while drying his hands with a towel. “Do you like her? I think she seems cute.”

“No, I don’t. She just looks... different.”

“Oh, the old man got excited by the beautiful woman and her short skirt.” Sam’s smile got even wider as he started teasing Bucky. “You know, I wanted to ask her out, but I can take a step back if you like her.” He leaned on the table so he could get under Bucky’s skin even more.

“I do not like her.”

“So you’re okay if I ask her out? Maybe I should go to her office right now.” Sam pretended like he was really thinking about this.

“Sam...” Steve said.

“You both are just getting on my fucking nerves.” Bucky’s chair almost fell to the floor when he angrily stood up. “Do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t care about you or her.” With these words, he stormed out of the room, and Sam started to laugh out loud.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” Steve shook his head like a disappointed mother whose kids always fight.

“That was fun, and maybe it’ll push him to ask her out. She’s hot, but not my type; I’m just trying to help this idiot.”

You have been working with the Avengers for over a month now. This work was literally a dream from any angle. You were making a lot of money, doing the job that you really liked, and found a lot of close friends.

Almost everyone on the team was very close to you. Natasha and Wanda were particularly your best friends. Sam was the funniest person you’ve ever met, and he always found time to tease you or to make a compliment. Bruce and Clint were like your uncles—a little bit old and annoying, but always with a piece of advice for you. A few times, you and Steve met at the gym when you came to work too early, so he was happy to train with you. Who would’ve thought that Captain America himself would teach you how to throw a punch?

The only pain in your ass was Bucky Barnes. Well, to be fair, he didn’t do anything. You’re not even sure that you heard his voice. He was always just staring. Any time that you came to the room and he was there, you either saw him from the corner of your eyes or felt his burning gaze on your back.

To this day, you had no problems with your job. You organized a few interviews for Tony and Steve, talked to the newspapers and magazines, and held some meetings, but right now, sitting on your white chair, you felt weirdly nervous.

Bucky had to come here any minute to talk about a recent accident. Apparently, he almost knocked out someone on the street. All the press and news sources were taking advantage of the situation and using loud headlines to cast a shadow on Bucky and get more views. “The Winter Soldier is back?”. “The Winter Soldier almost killed an innocent man on the street.”

It has been the biggest topic on the internet for the past few hours. Most of the people were furious and wrote too many inappropriate and rude things. So you asked FRIDAY to call Bucky so you could know the whole situation and give comments to the press as soon as possible.

You started thinking about what you should do, or, to be more honest, how to behave around Bucky, because a few days ago two red-headed women that you now considered your best friends assured you that he is in love with you and just doesn't know what to do with it.

You told them everything about his weird actions—that he always looked at you, checked your clothes, and stayed silent. Natasha and Wanda just looked at each other with smirks on their faces.

“Why are you looking at each other like that?” You arched an eyebrow and crossed your hands across your chest.

“Please, don't tell me that you don't understand his behavior.” Natasha looked at you and sipped her coffee.

Well, I wouldn’t have asked you if I knew the reason.”

“Honey, he lust likes you and thinks that you’re hot. You remember that he’s actually an old man, right? Women from his time didn’t dress like that, and you look really sexy.” Wanda’s words made Nat nod her head as you looked weirdly at both of them.

“That’s bullshit, Wanda. This can’t be true. I'm sure that he just doesn’t like me and thinks that I look too revealing. Or he just hadn’t had a girlfriend in a long time.”

“Some time ago, I came to the kitchen at like 2 a.m. just in my lingerie because I thought everyone was asleep. Barnes was sitting there with a book, and you know what? He just said “Hi” and didn’t even look at me again while I was making a sandwich. And when he sees you, he just can’t take his eyes away and stares like an idiot.”

You stayed silent, thinking about the girls' words, because everything seemed pretty reasonable.

“And what should I do?”

“I don’t know, seduce him or something.” Natasha just casually said it, and your eyebrows flew to your hairline.

“Wait, do you like him?” Wanda asked you, and Natasha huffed like it was obvious.

“I mean… he’s beautiful. I didn’t have a chance to talk to him, but Steve and Sam love him, and I trust their opinion.” You stopped trying to put together your thoughts. “To be honest, sometimes I think about the fact that he’s probably one of the hottest people I’ve ever seen. When we studied history at school, all the girls fell in love with America's Boy, and I with his best friend.”

“Then don’t wait. Just give him some hints, because I swear, for the ladies’ man, he’s too slow.” Natasha’s words made you smile. “Try to get closer to him; I don’t know, flash him with your boobs and look at the reaction. Push him a little bit. He’ll break.”

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump out of your chair.

“Come in.” You said this as you stood up and fixed your white dress and cardigan.

Bucky came probably to the lightest and most cozy room in the whole tower. A lot of white and pastel colors, comfy sofa and armchairs, and paintings on the wall. And in the middle of this was you—always perfectly looking, in heels, in a too-short dress, and with a smile on your face. He couldn't stop himself from looking at the smooth skin of your legs. It’s probably so soft...

“Em– Hi.” You awkwardly stood while his eyes were scanning your body. He didn’t answer; he just nodded. “So I think that we can sit there, it’s more comfortable.” You wave your hand at the sofa with a fluffy cover on it. “Do you want anything? Tea, coffee, water, soda?” Bucky just shook his head while he was trying to comfortably sit with a frown on his face.

You deeply inhaled while trying to be a professional. You didn’t know what was wrong with this man, but his behavior started to get on your nerves.

“Bucky, we can’t work together if you keep ignoring me. You can say if you don’t like something, because I don’t want to be on bad terms with anyone.” You sat across from him and crossed your legs.

“I don’t know what I should say.” His deep voice filled the room. Bucky took a pillow that was lying near him and started playing with the fringe. “I feel weird when I’m around you, and I don’t like it. I have thoughts that I shouldn’t have.” His eyes scanned your body once again, and you wondered if he was talking about what you thought.

“Can I do something to change it?”

“No.” He deeply inhaled. “It’s my own problem, and it’s not your job to try to fix it. Anyway, why am I here?”

“I think you know why. I need to ask you about the recent incident because I have a meeting with the press in less than an hour, and I have to give them a good reason why you did that. People didn’t take all that information too well.” You saw that Bucky sadly smiled and looked you directly in the eyes, making goosebumps appear on your skin. “So, tell me what’s happened.”

“You know that whatever you say won’t change people’s opinions about me, right? No one forgave me, and they’re still looking for a chance to call me a murderer.” He tried to hide behind a smile, but you saw everything written in his eyes. Bucky hurt himself with his own words.

“I understand how you feel about this whole situation, but we should address all those rumors because things might get worse.” You leaned on your knees with your hands, and Bucky’s eyes immediately fell on your boobs.

Push him a little bit. He’ll break.

You tried to hold back a smirk.

“Fuck.” He mumbled. “ I– um– I was walking from the coffee shop to the tower. It was another busy street with hundreds of people, but I still didn’t expect someone to touch me. That man jumped on my back or something, and my instincts just worked. I threw him over myself on the ground and put a hand on his throat. Turned out he wanted to take a picture. But I panicked because there are many people who want to take revenge and who might want to do it literally any second. I’m always ready for this.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but you could hear the pain in his voice.

You felt deeply sorry for the man before you. Even if he was cold and acted weird around you, you knew that it was his way to protect himself. After everything he came through, you couldn’t blame him.

“Do you still go to the therapist?” You gently asked.

“Yes, two times a week.” Bucky nervously ran his right hand through his hair while still holding your pillow in the metal one.

“Okay, that’s good; I can work with this information.” You nodded and reached for your journal on the coffee table. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Bucky. I really appreciate it. I’ll do my best to convince people that it was not your fault, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Bucky stood up, carefully putting your pillow in its place, and left your office without another word, while you were sitting there with a smile.

Maybe the girls were right.

After that day, everything between you and Bucky became even weirder. Yes, he wasn’t totally silent now, and you’ve got a few “Hi”, but his stares felt different.

It was like you two were playing some kind of game. Since you knew that he didn’t actually hate you, you tried to do as Natasha and Wanda said—get his attention and push more. And God, you loved that game.

Almost every day you found an opportunity or excuse to see him in common rooms or in the corridors of the Tower, and you made sure that Bucky noticed you. You wore tighter clothes, walked right past him, and looked at him with a smile. You knew that it was working because a few times Bucky just suddenly left the room while he was mumbling something.

It was almost 8 p.m., but you were still working on schedule for the next week. There was some kind of charity event, and Tony required you to convince everyone to go there because more Avengers can attract more sponsors and money. As always, Bucky was the one who refused to go there. He simply sees no reason for him to be there, and he doesn’t want to be there alone because he knows that Captain America will be the biggest star, and such a social butterfly as Sam will leave him in a second.

You decided that it would be better to talk to Bucky in person, but you didn’t want to lose a chance to get his attention, so you went by yourself instead of asking FRIDAY.

You looked in the small mirror to check your makeup and hair and went straight to where you knew Bucky was spending his evening. As you walked in a dark room filled with only light from the TV, you saw Sam and Steve sitting on the couch and Bucky on the armchair near them. You quietly walk to him and just casually sit on the armrest. His eyebrows flew to his hairline, and you heard that the chewing from the boys stopped. Bucky had no choice but to put his metal arm on your lower back.

“I need you in my office. You have to talk about the next charity event. Could you please give me some of your time?” You quietly asked and lowered yourself closer to him. Bucky was just staring at you for a few seconds, but then slightly nodded.

Bucky followed you to your office, not without getting smirks from the boys,and then stood near your table with his hands in his pockets.

“Don’t you want to sit?” You said and stepped closer to him.

“No.”

“Um– okay.” You took the papers from your table and stood in front of Bucky. “So, you know that there is going to be a charity event, and I’m responsible for getting all the Avengers there, and you are one of them.”

“I’m not going, I already told Tony.” He just shrugged.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not needed there. I’m not an actual hero, people have no interest in me, especially when there will be Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor, you know? Plus, I have no interest in sitting alone the whole night.” You saw that Bucky tried to be casual about it, but he just put salt on his own wound.

“Don’t say that, Bucky. There are people who want to see you there, you have a lot of fans. You know, I’m going there too, so if you don't mind, we can–”

“What game are you playing with me?” He interrupted you. Bucky straightened his shoulders, which made him look even bigger, and started moving closer to you, putting you in a trap between him and your desk.

“W– what do you mean?” You couldn't control your body as you started to tremble a little bit from the power that this man had. As soon as you bumped into the table, his hands landed on both sides of you, and his face was right in front of yours.

“Don’t act clueless, Y/N. I see what you’re doing.” He stopped for a second, studying your face. “You know, I tried to convince myself that you do all of this by accident, but now I’m sure that you’re just playing your little game. Am I right, doll?” You two were staring at each other, and you felt almost nauseous from different emotions.

He was so fucking beautiful up close. Piercing blue eyes, pink lips, and light stubble You know why many women thought that James Barnes was charming. If he had more confidence, he would’ve been unstoppable.

Your eyes slowly shifted lower to his arms and chest as you remained silent. He was big, with well-trained muscles that were seen through the tight black t-shirt. Both arms were stretched near you, so you had a really good opportunity to look at the smooth tanned skin and beautiful dark vibranium. You felt how your lower stomach tightened just from the thought of getting those pretty hands on your body…

You were pulled out of your head by a sudden movement of Bucky’s hand, which gripped your face and pushed your lips together. He was obviously dominating in the kiss, as if he were desperate to taste you. The tip of his tongue brushed over your lips, asking for entrance, which you happily gave him. The moan came out of you when Bucky moved away and looked you in the eyes, still holding your face.

“This whole fucking time I thought that I was a creep for looking at you, but now I know that you did everything on purpose, doll.” His eyes moved between your eyes and mouth. “All these short skirts and dresses that almost showed me everything underneath it, all these innocent smiles and looks... You did it to tease me?”

“Not at first...” You mumbled. “But you were acting so weird, and girls said that you liked me and just didn’t know what to do. I wanted to find out whether it was true or not.”

“Fuck, if I knew earlier that this was your plan, I would’ve bent you over the nearest surface, baby.” Bucky moved a little closer, brushing his lips over yours. “Do you know how fucking hot and gorgeous you are? I haven’t felt that way in many, many years. Just wanna kiss you and make you mine.”

“And what’s stopping you from this, Sargent?” You asked with a smile and moved your hand to the back of his neck to gently play with the baby hairs.

“You’re gonna be my death, doll face.” He mumbled before leaning closer and kissing you again.

This time, you started to touch each other's bodies. Bucky’s warm and cold hands landed on your thighs, playing with the hem of the skirt and rubbing your soft skin after he lifted you up a little bit and helped you sit on the table, staying in between your legs. Your own hands were moving up and down his broad chest, discovering all of his muscles.

“Bucky…” You whined into the kiss when his finger brushed against the edge of your already wet panties.

“Tell me.” Bucky moved away from your swollen lips and left a path of kisses down your neck. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” He sucked a sensitive spot under your ear, which made you moan.

“I don’t know. Just do anything, please.” You both breathed heavily. You felt like you were too hot; your lower stomach ached, and your underwear was soaking wet. Bucky was looking at you with such lust in his eyes that you wanted him to destroy you.

“Lay back.” He ordered you as one of his hands went higher under your skirt and slid your black lace panties down your legs. You didn’t miss how Bucky shoved him into the back pocket of his jeans with a smirk on his face.

You quickly followed his instructions and just threw all the papers from our table on the floor. You’ll regret it later, but now you don't care. The sudden move of Bucky's metal arm grabbed and pulled your shirt, and all the buttons scattered on the floor, making you gasp in disbelief.

“Bucky! It was expensive.”

“Sorry, I’ll buy you whatever you want, I promise. But now I need to see you all.” He growled and fell to his knees before you. “Fuck, doll, such a pretty pussy. I’m gonna make a mess with her.”

Bucky’s hands grabbed both of your legs and threw them over his shoulders. He dragged your skirt higher, not wanting to take it off of you. His head fell on your right legs as he left a few kisses on your sensitive skin.

“Bucky please! Don’t tease me!” You desperately whined.

“I need a moment to appreciate both of you. I haven’t done it since the 40's, you know that?”

You wanted to say something, but his mouth on your most delicate part of your body left you speechless and made you grab his hair. Bucky’s tongue was gentle at first, just to get a taste of you and tease you a little bit. His tongue started to play with your clit, circling it and applying different pressures to find out what made your body twitch. It looked like he was enjoying it too; you felt deep grunts escaping his mouth as he was trying to catch every drop that came out of you.

Your loud moans filled the room as Bucky found the perfect place and made motions that made you see stars. A hand in his hair tightened even more when you felt one of his fingers at your entrance.

“M-hm, so wet and tight for me.” He pulled away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers came in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were firmly glued to your pussy, which was trying to get more, and his mouth opened a little bit at the sight. “Taking my fingers like a good girl.” Bucky attacked you with his mouth again. This time he was licking your folds, mixing his saliva with your juices. When the feeling of his nose touching your bundle of nerves came through your whole body, you gripped Bucky’s dark locks even harder, particularly trying to ride his face, and he had to put his metal hand on your hips so you wouldn’t move.

Your body tensed when he curled his fingers right on your g-spot, sucking your clit like a hungry man.

“Bucky—fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop!” You whined with tears running down your face.

A few more movements of his magical mouth, and you fell over the edge. Your legs tightened around his head, tingles went all over your body, and the loudest moan mixed with Bucky’s name came out of you as you were riding on the wave of your orgasm.

Bucky didn’t stop, though.

He made sure to lick every drop that came out of you, to the point that you had to beg him to stop because you were too sensitive.

“That was—“ You were trying to catch a breath. “That was the best orgasm I've ever had, oh my god. If you did it for the first time in like seventy years, I can’t imagine what you can do with practice.”

Bucky dragged you up by your neck, so you would be at the same level with him. His hand moved your hips closer to the edge of the table, and you felt how hard he was through those jeans.

“I can practice whenever you’ll allow me, doll.” He put his warm hand on your face to kiss you. The taste of your own release on his tongue made you moan.

“Need you inside of me, please.” Your hands automatically started to pull up his shirt, but he stopped you.

“We don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to.”

You were silent for a few seconds. “Why wouldn’t I want to take your shirt off?”

“You know, my arm and scars...”

“Do you really think that I care about it?” You left a few kisses on his cheek. “I think that your arm is hot, by the way, and I want to feel your skin on mine, Sarge.” It was enough for Bucky to pull off his shirt and stay before you half-naked.

Your hands moved to trace every muscle, every birthmark, and every scar on his chest, and you felt that this moment was so intimate, especially because of Bucky’s stare. He looked at you with such adoration and softness that you wanted to melt.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He mumbled and kissed you with even more passion.

Bucky ripped off the rest of your shirt and quickly took off your matching black bra, gripping your breasts with both hands and taking your left nipple in his hot mouth.

You dug nails into Bucky’s back as he was sucking and licking your nipples, leaving them wet in the cold air. It felt good. So fucking good—his mouth was truly amazing. But the emptiness inside of you was almost painful, and you were clenching around nothing.

“Bucky! Sarge, please, I need you.” You almost cried and dragged his head by the hair back to your mouth.

“Baby, baby, wait– “ His hot breath was touching your lips, but he stopped your hands, which were unbuckling his belt. “Baby, I don’t have a condom. Fuck, do you have one?”

“We don’t have to use it... I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.” Your legs wrapped tighter around Bucky’s waist and put him closer to your naked core. He swore that he could feel your heat through his jeans and boxers.

“Fuck, I love twenty-first century... I’m clean too, can’t even catch a disease with this serum shit.”

His words were like a green light to you. You didn’t want to wait even a second more. So you just took off his pants with such speed and impatience that it made Bucky chuckle. With the last movement, all of his clothes were on the floor, and you sat on your table, frozen because of the sight before you.

Bucky’s thick and perfectly long dick was the best fucking thing that you’ve ever seen. Pink and a little bit curled to his abdomen. Your mouth watered just thinking about tasting it. Or how well he’ll stretch you out. You didn’t even notice how your mouth opened a little bit, and you unconsciously wrapped your hand around him.

“You’re gonna destroy me, Bucky.” You mumbled, to which you heard only a deep chuckle. Your eyes moved back to Bucky’s smiley face.

“I hope so.”

Two different hands landed on your thighs again, spreading and lifting them up. You both looked down at where his cock almost touched your bare folds, and the first contact made you moan loudly. Bucky took the base of his cock, giving himself a few pumps, and moved the tip up and down your pussy, moving easily because of the mixture of your juices.

You grabbed his forearm and whined at the action.

“Ready, doll?” He was trying to be tough and strong, but you saw how he nervously licked his lips, the tremble of his flesh hand, and the tension in his abdomen. But you still vigorously nodded.

It was different from everything you’ve ever experienced. He was big but tried to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt you. He only pushed a few inches, but you already wanted to cry from all the feelings inside of you. Pain mixed with extreme pleasure.

Bucky was trying so hard to control his motions and go slow, but God, it wasn’t easy. From the first touch of his cock, it felt like he had gone to heaven. He knew that sex was good, he remembers it, but the feeling of you and your warm body that so gracefully greeted him inside made him feral. Bucky felt such a need to kiss you that it was almost painful, especially when your swollen lips were a few inches away from his.

He leaned in closer to your lips, but it made him slip deeper into you, which made you both loudly moan into each other's mouths.

“Fuck– doll, you’re so warm and tight, oh my god.” Bucky mumbled as the grip on your hips became harder. It’ll probably leave bruises, but you didn’t care.

The feeling of him inside of you was overwhelming. He was so deep and stretched you just the way that you wanted, and you almost cried from pleasure.

“Please, Bucky, please move!”

His hips slightly moved once, and it felt like his mood instantly changed. You were suddenly pushed back on your table, and your legs, still in heels, were thrown on Bucky’s shoulders. His metal hand stayed on your thigh, and the other one fell on your stomach to push your skirt higher on your waist.

“All dressed up for me, baby.” He started slowly moving, burying his cock deep inside, and then leaving only the tip to tease you. “You know how long I wanted to do that, huh? Bend you over and just fuck the shit out of you until you can’t say anything except for my name.”

“Bucky– Sarge, please go faster. Just fuck me, do whatever you want.” You were desperate, yes. But you couldn't help but beg, because you really needed him to keep his promise and fuck the shit out of you.

You reached for his hand on your stomach and interlaced your fingers together.

“If you keep calling me that, I won’t last too long, doll.” His thrusts became harder and faster as your body moved up and down on your table.

Bucky was looking at your drunk-looking face with a slightly open mouth because you couldn’t keep your moans quiet. Your hair was deshiveled, your skin glimmered with sweat, and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.

“So beautiful, baby.” Bucky murmured, fucking you harder. The room was filled with loud noises from slapping skin and moans. “You love it when I talk to you like that, huh? Want me to tell you what a good girl you are?” His words definitely did something to you, and you unconsciously tightened around him. “Almost choking my cock, baby, fu-u-ck.”

“Mhm, Sargent, I’m so full of you.” You couldn’t see straight as the tip of his head pressed at the perfect spot with every thrust, it was too much and not enough at the same time.

The wet kisses on the inner side of your thigh sent shivers down your whole body when Bucky started to suck tender skin. His rough movement didn’t stop for a moment, and you knew that your orgasm was getting closer. The warm feeling in your belly slowly became bigger. It was hard for you to cum from sex, but Bucky did it so fast and without even touching your clit.

“C’mon, doll face. I feel ‘ya. Feel how your perfect little pussy is squeezing me. Cum with me, baby, cum on my cock.” His movements were still rough and confident, but you felt the slightest change in the way he was looking at you, how his body trembled a little bit, and the prettiest quiet noises escaped his mouth as Bucky was coming to his own end.

You were completely lost in your pleasure, with strong arms on your body and Bucky’s hard cock that was completely destroying you, so when fingers on your clit started to move in circles, your body slightly jolted up from your table.

“Bucky, Bucky, please—ohmygod, I’m coming!” You cried out loud and grabbed the hard wood under your arms.

“O-oh, fuck, doll, cum with me, please. Yes, squeeze my cock harder, make a mess. ‘M gonna cum.” With the last few pushes of his dick inside of you and movements of the fingers, you both fell from your heights, and the room filled with loud moans of pleasure. The feeling of his hot seed on your walls almost made you faint.

Bucky fell down on your body as your leg slipped from his shoulder. Two strong arms wrapped around you, and Bucky’s face nuzzled into your neck. You don’t know how long you two stayed silent, trying to catch a breath, while your hands gently rubbed Bucky’s back.

When he finally lifted himself up with a metal arm near your face on the table, the look in his eyes sent millions of butterflies to your stomach.

“I don’t even know what to say…” He chuckled and cupped your face with his right hand. “You look so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”

“Even when my makeup, my hair, and my clothes are completely destroyed?” You playfully arched an eyebrow and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers on your hot skin.

“Well, I did it, and I’m satisfied with it. You still look so hot, especially with my dick still inside of you.”

“Bucky!”

“Sorry, sorry. But I’m serious, though. Will you let me take you on a date? Maybe yesterday for lunch or for dinner after work?” His eyes had this little bit of doubt, and you couldn’t stop your wide smile because he was really thinking that you would say “no” after that.

“I will be glad to go out with you, Buck.” You dragged his face closer and gave him the sweetest kiss you could.

Bucky moved away, gently slipping out of you, and you hissed at the empty feeling. He helped you stand up on your shaking legs and handed you your clothes.

“Fuck, you completely destroyed my clothes.” You said as you were standing in front of the mirror. “How will I go home?”

“You can stay in my room.” Bucky came closer to you and helped you make your blouse look more presentable, even without buttons.

“Really?”

“Of course, doll. Just hold your shirt in case we bump into someone in the corridor, but I think everyone is already in their rooms.” Bucky finished dressing up, and you saw your underwear sticking out of his pocket.

“Don’t you want to give me my panties?”

“Na-ah, you’ll have to walk with me dripping out of you.” He gave you a cocky smile and turned all the lights off before wrapping his arm around you and leading you into the hall.

It was completely empty, but the second that you stepped out of the elevator, you saw Bucky’s best friends looking at you. All of you were looking at each other for a few seconds before Sam started hysterically laughing.

“You owe me fifty bucks, idiot!” He said to Steve, who was as red as a tomato. “Good job, Buckaroo, but I really thought that we were gonna ask her on a date first.”

“Fuck off, Willson.” Bucky growled, protectively stepping forward to protect you from their looks.

“Okay, okay, relax, no one’s touching your girl.” He said with a cocky smile on his face. “Let’s go, Steve. You’re too innocent to look at things like this.” Sam took his friend and led him in another direction.

“Asshole.” Bucky growled.

“Everything is okay, Buck, let’s go.” You stepped closer to his room, but he was still standing in his place. “I have to take a shower. Will you come with me, or will you stand here the whole night?” You smirked.

It was everything he needed to finally get closer to you, scoop you into his arms, and carry you into his room to the sound of laughter, which soon turned into moans.

[narnian-neverlander]

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.”

[zvdvdlvr]

Indisputably Difficult to Choose ✰ JayVik x Reader

✰. You’re Viktor and Jayce’s new roommate- a flirt and a damn good cook. Thankfully, you get along well with the two men! Maybe too well. Eventually, you can’t tell where the line between ‘just friends’ and ‘more than friends’ is.

✰. WC: 1.7k. Female reader. I have no idea if Vik is russian or Czech but most reddit posts say hes russian😭??? Friends to lovers trope. Miscommunication trope? Oh well! Sorry for any errors in the spanish or russian pet names- I definitely didn’t use google translate. . .

It wasn’t every day that you got roomed with both life-altering scientists. And yet, here you were, offering one of them a sly smile. “Hello.”

Jayce smiled right back at you easily and opened the door further. “Welcome home, stranger,” he greeted.

After adjusting the backpack hanging from your shoulders, you stepped into the room. “Good to see a handsome face whenever I arrive home,” you murmur absentmindedly as you examine the walls and floors. “Where’s my room?”

Jayce nodded towards the hallway. “Down there.”

Later that night you met Viktor. Tall, lean, devilishly handsome Viktor.

You were making yourself at home in the kitchen making pasta for dinner when he cleared his throat. Turning, you smiled at the man in front of you. “I hope you like tortellini, Viktor,” you said.

He hummed. “I’ll eat anything that isn’t cooked by Jayce.” Viktor hears an incredulous gasp from the other room and chuckles. “It smells good,” he says politely, stepping closer to the stove.

“I like to make a good impression.”

And by God, you do.

Almost two weeks later you finally find your rhythm. Wake up, get ready for class, go to class, go to the lab to help out the boys (because helping out world-changing scientists looks damn good on your resume), decide what to have for dinner, drag the boys home, go to sleep, repeat. A long and tiresome but rewarding list.

Five and a half months later and midterms were finally over! You were on break and had so much free time on your hands but didn’t feel like going in to work every day. So: you made your boredom the boys’ problem (though you knew they wouldn’t actually complain).

Today was one of the rare days you could convince Jayce and Viktor to stay home with you because there weren’t any classes and ‘why let your favorite roommate be all by her lonesome?’ It was easy to convince Jayce. When Jayce finally relented, the both of you turned to Viktor with hopeful smiles.

“As long as you make that beef stew for dinner,” Viktor finally grumbled. As he hobbled away dramatically, Jayce laughed as you whooped excitedly.

When you were done basking in glory, Jayce wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You would have bet your life savings that Jayce melted further into you when you wrapped your arm around his waist since you could not reach his shoulders. “Viktor wouldn’t actually say no to you anyway, doll,” Jayce said casually, flopping onto the couch and pull you with him.

Dynamics between the three of you were. . . perplexing. Viktor was a quietly independent person who bonded with you over food, riddles, and literature. When he had seen your Harlan Ellison novels, you swore you saw the metaphorical wall of defense behind his piercing amber eyes crumble. The first time Viktor sat on the counter and had an emotionally intelligent conversation with you (while you made chicken fajitas as per Jayce’s request) was the first time you heard Viktor truly laugh- a sound from deep in his throat that temporarily distracted you from the sizzling meat in front of you. After that, Viktor had warmed up to you enough to slide into the hug Jayce pulled you in when they returned from the lab.

Jayce had almost immediately clicked with you. His charmingly pathetic smile and himbo aura were captivating. Jayce had gasped allowed when you were still decorating your new room. “Oh my Jan- is that. . ?” He then started helping you tack up posters and other goodies you had to decorate your space while gushing about some of the bands, movies, and television programs you were interested. Jayce, you learned, had a soft spot for predicable romance and science fiction movies- though he often narrated errors in information while watching anything sci-fi. He was also very physically affectionate: pulling your legs into his lap during movie nights, gently moving you by the waist whenever he was in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around you while walking to the coffee shop, and an obscene amount of hugs. You thought it was a little odd at first, but he does it to Viktor too- and you couldn’t really judge because you flirted with them and called them nicknames. A lot. 

When dinner time finally rolled around, you had a pot of steaming vegetable stew on the stove. Three bowls and three spoon were all waiting to be used off to the side. Viktor had made a beeline to the kitchen the second ‘food’ left your mouth and by the time Jayce got up and you’d entered the kitchen, Viktor’s bowl had tears of broth rolling down the side as it pleaded for help. “Smells good, Солнышко,” he praised. 

“Thank you, darling scientist of mine,” you hummed, handing Jayce a bowl.

“Wha-“ Jayce spluttered behind you. “What about me? Have I not earned the title of your favorite darling scientist?”

Viktor snorted as he started the short trip to the dinner table.

You threw your head back in laughter, eyes closed. If you were watching the two bickering men boys, you would have seen Jayce’s mock hurt melt completely off his face as he watched you laugh happily before letting his eyes flicker over to Viktor; who was completely immersed with you (not the stew). You didn’t see Viktor looking up to Jayce with a certain look in his eyes and tilt his head all in the blink of an eye.

“I mean, Viktor did fix my console and the T.V. without me having to ask,” you say as your laughter fades. “I guess pretty boy over there has you beat.”

Jayce clicks his tongue, catching your eyes. “Then I’ll have to make it up to you, tu hermosa mujer,” he says with a low tone, the spark in his eyes that burns in his eyes when you usually flirt was absent. “Hm?”

You blink. Mouth open as your eyes frantically flicker between Jayce’s eyes and the unchanging smile on his face. “I- I guess so.”

Viktor coughs so loud you instinctively take a step back. “If you guys are continue kindling your blooming romance, I’d like to remind you that I am still here.”

You don’t look at Jayce as you blink out of the confused haze you found yourself in thirty seconds ago and start to the table. “Don’t be jealous, pretty boy,” you halfheartedly joke at Viktor.

“I’m not jealous,” Viktor says, watching you intently. “Because I know I could be better than Jayce at anything you wanted.”

“Is that right?”

Viktor raises and eyebrow at Jayce as he sits beside you in his normal spot. “Indisputably.”

“I don’t know what you guys are playing at,” you cut in finally, letting your spoon rest against the side of the half-finished soup. “But clearly there’s something I’m not understanding. This-“ you gesture from Jayce to you to Viktor “-is starting to confuse me. And I- I need you guys to figure it the fuck out because I can’t keep lov-“ you cut yourself off. Heaved a sigh before standing up and leaving with a mere ‘I need to think’.

“Y/n.” Jayce watches you grab your wallet and the coat nearest to the door- which happened to be Viktor’s- and ignore him. “Y/n, baby, please-“

You slam the door on the way out.

Viktor is standing up before Jayce can say anything. “Let’s go,” Viktor tells Jayce, shoving his arms into another one of his coats. “I don’t want her out during the dark.”

Jayce understands Viktor’s fear, knowing Viktor’s anxiety was multiplied tenfold by what he’d experienced and heard during his life in the Undercity. “Okay.”

Adrenaline and anxiety propelled Viktor forward into the night, rain soaking his useless coat. Jayce had your location pulled up on his cell and was confident that he and Viktor were close. “We’re almost there,” he told Viktor over the pattering rain.

“There! Is that-?”

“Y/n!” Jayce shouted, seeing the hooded figure halt for a second before you started walking faster.

“Куколка please wait,” Viktor called. “I cannot run after you- please just talk to us!”

You stopped. Turning, the pair could see your bloodshot eyes and wobbling lip.

“Oh, my Родная,” Viktor cooed, dropping his cane to wrap his arms around you and Jayce.

Jayce held you and Viktor upright, feeling his heart shatter when he felt you shaking in his arms- crying over something he did. “Y/n, mi amor, I’m so sorry,” he finally said. “We are sorry.”

Viktor leaned on Jayce as he went on. “Y/n, I think it’s safe to say that Jayce and I. . . our feelings for you, you see-“

“We’re in love with you,” Jayce blurts. “The cuddling, the cooking, the affection, the flirting-“

Viktor nods. “But we didn’t know how to tell you without making you choose because, quite honestly, I am scared that you’ll leave or- or, I don’t know. The point is: I didn’t want to complicate our relationship by telling you the way we feel for you.”

“My boys,” you murmur, your hand going up to cup each of their cheek. (Thank Janna that there were no passersby due to the rain.) “Would it be wrong to say that I don’t want to choose? Because. . . I don’t think I could choose.”

Jayce feels himself exhale. Viktor sags against him: the soul-crushing possibility of you leaving was out of the question. “Please come home, mujer preciosa,” Jayce pleads weakly, leaning into your palm. “We can make this up to you-“

“However you want,” Viktor adds quickly, sticking his bottom lip out with a shrug.

You laugh weakly and nod. “Yeah- yes. I’d love to go home. Hold on, pretty boy,” you say before bending down to retrieve Viktor’s cane.

“Is it too early to say I love you?” Viktor asks, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You chuckle and let yourself be sandwiched between the two men who you’d been enamored with for the past six months. “I already know you do, but it wouldn’t hurt to say,” you say.

“Well, we can say it as long as you want us to,” Jayce says, watching you with fond eyes.