#it just really warmed something in my heart

[reignpage]

Frat Boy!Gojo

Madri Lager: drunk words

Contents: cursing, just a little conversation between them to set the mood and provide a backdrop for the next fic, not proofread

No fucking way. 

There’s just no fucking way. 

“Why the hell are you here?” You hiss. 

Gojo fucking Satoru strolled into your lecture hall, smug grin on his fuck ugly face, arms folded behind his head and swinging his legs like a maniac. From the doors at the front, he immediately spotted you all the way at the back, sat by your lonesome and you could see his shit-eating grin widen. The whites of his teeth blind you almost as much as his impossibly white hair.

Then, the freak had the audacity to climb the stairs, ignoring the whispering and the pointing, and sat next to you. Well, a seat down because you refused to move your bag, even fought with him a little when he tried to lift it. 

He shrugs, slinging an arm around the back of the chair between you, fingertips way too close to your shoulder, and black sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge. “Was feeling bored so here I am.”

Counting to ten, you tried to put on a patient voice, like you’re berating a child, which you pretty much are, and you grit out, “Bored people take up hobbies. Bored people do things like puzzles and cooking and knitting. Bored people don’t crash lectures and bother other people.”

“I love when you lecture me on common knowledge, wifey. It really warms my heart.” To emphasise his stupid point, he presses a hand to his chest and fans his face with the other. “You’re just so smart.”

You slap his hand away when he tries to boop your nose. People are staring, turning their heads like owls as they strained to listen to your conversations. Some people are taking pictures, no doubt sending it to The Bulletin or whatever, because people have nothing better to do than gossip. You hate this attention; the pointing and whispering because of your appearance you’ve learnt to tolerate, but this? 

This is just irritating on a different level.

At least once a day, a cheerful stranger comes up to you and asks in bewilderment if you’re Gojo’s fiancee. In fact, they ask if you’re really, actually the future wife of Gojo Satoru like he’s some mythical being and you’re a frumpy little worm. Fuck them. And fuck him. 

“Go away, Gojo,” you roll your eyes, typing as much of the lecturer’s notes as you can, a little distracted by the peering eyes around you and the ones running over your clothes . 

He sighs and lifts the lace from your dress, rounding the neckline. You feel it tickle your neck, and you fight the urge to shudder. In disgust. With a forced melodramatic tone, he complains, “I’m bored. Entertain me.”

“Are you fucking twelve? Go watch a movie like a normal person.”

“Movies are boring,” he retorts as if it’s fact. 

You roll your eyes. “And what? I’m so much more interesting?” 

What a stupid question. You really shouldn’t have asked that because the serious expression on his face as he lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug makes you blush. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

“Did you meet Suguru on the course or was he your piercer first?”

Still typing, you throw him a side glance, feeling suspicious of the sudden change in conversation. But it’s welcomed. “We met on the course. First year. We were in the same class. He’s a good guy.”

Gojo huffs as if he didn’t like your answer. 

The piercer’s actually a decent person; he was friendly, smart, and kind. He made long, boring classes feel shorter with his interesting insights and opinions, and he had such a great way of expressing them — he was the most eloquent male you’ve ever met. However, there was always something off about him, like an inner turmoil that neither you nor he could ever quite understand. 

It was when he absentmindedly said he was thinking of dropping out that you felt you knew him a little better. You both shared a long talk at the back of the Life Sciences building where your little stroll took you, him smoking and you listening to his mutterings. He spoke of this feeling of being out of place, which you understood better than anyone else, and how the traditional path didn’t suit him. He disappeared for a while, a couple months, and you thought your response might have spooked him. After all, no one ever really comes to you for advice. But when he reached out to offer you a free piercing as his first ever client at his newly opened studio, you realised maybe you are capable of dropping an odd pearl here and there. 

“Well, Suguru’s my bestie, so back off,” Gojo pouts.

From your peripheral, you see him eye the big lecture hall and you don’t really know what he’s thinking. It’s an odd realisation to think that Geto, the guy you’ve always kind of admired, is actually friends with this loser – the suggestion that there’s a redeeming quality to the frat guy is one that doesn’t suit you. 

Most times he’s easy to read; he wants fun and excitement and thrill. He does whatever’s convenient or interesting, a totally impulsive guy. But there are rare moments, emphasis on rare, where you think there might be something more going on in that huge head of his. Maybe there’s something deeper to him. A maturity and wisdom he’s yet to show. 

“Fuck, marry or kill,” he lifts three fingers, “Marx, Satre or Aristotle.”

Yeah, unlikely. 

“Gojo, seriously, go away,” you sigh, exasperated. Just five minutes with the guy and you’re already drained. And somehow, you’re expected to live a lifetime with the weirdo?

Satan strike you down. 

“Me personally, Satre’s cute but something about big, bushy beards really gets me going. So, it’ll have to be: kill Aristotle, no offence dude, fuck Satre, and marry Marx.”

Two girls in the row in front of you giggle. Your lips turn down in repulsion. 

“I’m not sure Marx would like either of us, Gojo,” you give him a pointed look. 

He laughs. It’s loud and sudden and he has to say sorry to the entire lecture when it echoes around the hall. Some people laugh at him, or with him, and the lecturer can only shake his head and carry on. This lecturer is strict and merciless when it comes to interruptions, but of course he doesn’t say a thing against the interloper. How could he when there’s a huge placard over the double doors of this building titled ‘From the Loving Hearts of The Gojo Charitable Foundation’?

A couple minutes pass in relative silence, just the tapping of fingers against keyboards and the droning of the professor filling the space, and you think maybe he’s fallen asleep or maybe he’s so bored that he’s actually thinking of leaving. 

Of course, neither of those things happen because the universe hates you. 

Gojo pokes your side with a pen. You writhe with a blush. 

“Oh, ticklish, are we? Very interesting.” He wiggles his brows like an idiot, and you fight the urge to land a punch there. “Our wedding night’s gonna be fun.”

“We’re not going to have one if you had it your way, remember?”

Leaning back in his seat, he taps the pen —where the hell did even get that? He wasn’t carrying a bag— against his chin, considering his words carefully. He shrugs again. “Well, seeing as everyone’s so set on it, I’ve decided to, you could say, open myself to the idea.”

You try to quell the spark of hope there, that maybe your family could be saved, that you’ll be saved. It’s not wise to let that spark fester into something more. 

Gojo’s impulsive. Fact. 

Gojo’s a thrill-seeker. Fact. 

Gojo is an unserious guy set in his bachelor ways. He cannot be relied upon. He cannot be trusted to keep his word.

All facts. 

It’s easy for him to be able to have the option to be ‘open’ to an idea, whereas it’s thrusted upon you without much say. He can wake up and make decisions solely based on his urges, but you have to be mindful of the family’s reputation, your father’s bad habits, your mother’s social conservative ways, and the fact that this is all your fault. 

“Gojo,” you turn, fixing him with a solemn expression, “don’t do that. Don’t lead me on. I may not want to marry you, but I do want to marry. I must. It’s important to me, so please don’t wave it around like it’s some pretty flag.”

There must be something in your eyes, a graveness or a sombre quality that makes his smile disappear. His brows furrow like he’s trying to understand, trying to piece things together but you’re turning away before he could see. 

Clearing his throat, he pokes you again. “Alright. How about this?”

You throw him a doubtful look, worried about what dumbassery is going to leave his mouth. 

“Go on a date with me.”

“No.”

“Hey! You said that way too quickly.”

Resuming your typing, you’re already trying to drown him out, focused on the history of pragmatic ethics instead of his humoured tone. He’s suggesting something ridiculous again. As if you’d go on a date with him. Him. The guy who’s been getting in the way, the one who’s been making your life difficult and family dinners awkward, and the one you certainly cannot trust to not set up some trap to humiliate you like in the movies. 

“I’m being serious. Let’s go on a date.” Seeing you open your mouth to argue back, he hurriedly adds, “This isn’t fair on me either, y’know? I’m supposed to marry a stranger, one who wears all black and looks like she’d haunt me — not a bad thing, I’m actually kinda into it, question mark? — but my point is, we don’t really know each other. So why don’t we go on a date? It’s a pretty brilliant idea, if I do say so myself.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mull it over. Sure, it makes sense, it would be good to get to know the freak you’re marrying or supposed to marry. This is how it should have been in the first place. Plus, your mother would certainly approve; she’d think this is a golden opportunity to secure him, to make him fall for you or whatever Mrs. Bennet thing she’s thinking of. 

However, as good as that idea is, you can’t just eagerly agree; there’s no guarantee this isn’t a trap. 

“You’re thinking this is a trap, aren’t you?” Your eyes meet his. He’s grinning ear to ear like he’s proud he guessed correctly. “Why don’t you plan the date, then? Set the time and place, that way there’s no way I could have rigged the environment with explosives or something.”

“No pig blood?”

Gojo smiles even brighter, and you have to squint to prevent losing your vision permanently. 

“No pig blood.”

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Secret Santa Gift | LN4

𐙚༘⋆˖°🎄๋࣭ ⭑₊ ⊹ summary ━━━━━━━ At a Christmas party, Y/N receives a gift from Lando, her Secret Santa. After realizing his feelings, she meets him in Hyde Park, where Lando confesses his love.

𐙚༘⋆˖°🎄๋࣭ ⭑₊ ⊹ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𐙚༘⋆˖°🎄๋࣭ ⭑₊ ⊹ word count ━━━━━━━ 1.8k

Inside Pietra and Max’s flat, the warm glow of fairy lights cast a festive ambiance. The group had gathered around, their laughter and chatter filling the space. Among the group was Lando Norris, the Formula 1 driver, whose infectious energy was as much a highlight of the evening as the spiced mulled wine.

Y/N had met Lando through Pietra. He was charming, funny, and always had a way of making her laugh, but she’d never considered that he might see her as more than just a friend. Why would someone like him—a world-famous driver with fans across the globe—be interested in someone like her?

What Y/N didn’t know was that from the moment Lando had met her, he was hooked. Her shy smiles, fierce wit, and the way she carried herself had captivated him. He had tried to drop hints—playful teasing, lingering stares, and always managing to be by her side whenever they were in the same room. But so far, his feelings had gone unnoticed, much to the amusement of their mutual friends.

Tonight, Lando’s heart raced with anticipation. He had drawn Y/N’s name for Secret Santa, and he’d spent days planning her gift. If he couldn’t tell her how he felt outright, he’d let his actions do the talking.

As everyone settled in a circle around the tree, Pietra handed out the gifts.

“Alright, everyone, one at a time. Let’s see what Santa’s brought us,” Pietra announced with a grin.

Y/N’s turn came quickly. She picked up a neatly wrapped box with her name on it and smiled. “Ooh, this one looks fancy.”

She carefully unwrapped the paper to reveal a beautifully designed gift box. Inside were items that immediately caught her attention: a novel by her favorite author, a selection of her go-to snacks, and a handwritten note tucked neatly between them.

She picked up the note and read it aloud, her cheeks turning pink as she spoke:

"To Y/N,

I hope these little things bring a smile to your face. You deserve all the happiness in the world. Happy Christmas!

—Your Secret Santa."

The room was quiet for a moment before the group erupted into knowing smiles and exchanged glances.

“This is perfect,” Y/N said, beaming. “Whoever my Secret Santa is, thank you!”

Across the room, Lando leaned back against the couch, his soft smile betraying his delight. “Glad you like it,” he said casually.

Y/N gave him a warm smile before turning her attention back to the gift box, completely unaware of the depth behind his words.

Later in the evening, when the group had dispersed into smaller conversations, Pietra sidled up to Lando. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not subtle at all, you know,” she said, her tone teasing.

Lando shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Don’t need to be. She’s worth it.”

Pietra shook her head with a grin. “You’ve got it bad, Norris. When are you going to tell her?”

Lando glanced over at Y/N, who was laughing at something one of the others had said. Her smile lit up the room, and for a moment, it was just her in his world.

“Soon,” he said softly.

As the evening wound down and guests began to leave, Lando lingered behind, offering to help Pietra and Max clean up. Y/N stayed too, not wanting the night to end just yet.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Lando asked as he carried a stack of plates to the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, leaning against the counter. “It’s always nice to get together like this. And that gift… It was really thoughtful.”

Lando met her gaze, his lips quirking into a smile. “I’m glad. You deserve it.”

There was something in his tone—something warm and genuine—that made her stomach flutter. She quickly looked away, brushing it off as friendly banter.

As the clock struck midnight, Lando walked Y/N to the door. The cold air outside was a stark contrast to the warmth of the evening.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Lando,” she replied, her cheeks tinged pink from more than just the cold.

As she walked away, Lando stood there for a moment, watching her disappear into the night. He knew he couldn’t keep his feelings a secret much longer.

And maybe, just maybe, Y/N was beginning to notice too.

The days following the Secret Santa evening were uneventful for Y/N—or so she told herself. Her mind, however, kept drifting back to the gift. There was something about it, something so specific and thoughtful, that made her heart skip a beat. Whoever her Secret Santa was had paid attention to the little details about her life. But who could it have been?

“It’s probably just Pietra,” she muttered to herself one morning as she walked to the café near her office for her usual coffee fix. “She knows I love that author.”

Still, the way Lando had smiled at her that night lingered in her thoughts. It wasn’t the playful grin she was used to seeing. It was softer, almost tender, and it made her cheeks heat every time she replayed it in her head.

Shaking off the memory, she stepped into the café, greeted by the rich aroma of coffee beans and the low hum of conversation.

Lando, on the other hand, wasn’t shaking off anything. The memory of Y/N’s smile when she opened his gift was etched in his mind. He’d been tempted to tell her the truth that night but had held back, not wanting to overwhelm her. But he couldn’t wait much longer.

“Mate, just tell her,” his friend Max had said during a call the day after the party. “She’s not as oblivious as you think.”

Lando wasn’t convinced. Y/N had a way of brushing off his flirtations as jokes, as though the idea of him liking her was absurd. But he was determined to change that.

A few days later, Y/N found herself at the same café again, waiting for her latte. It was one of those rare slow mornings, and she decided to sit by the window to watch the city bustle by. As she sipped her coffee, an older woman sitting at the next table leaned over with a warm smile.

“Excuse me, dear,” the woman said. “I couldn’t help but notice—are you seeing that young man who was sitting here a few minutes ago?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Um, no. I don’t think I know who you mean.”

The woman chuckled softly. “He was sitting here earlier, fiddling with his phone and glancing at the door every few seconds. When you walked in, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. He left not long after but looked quite pleased with himself.”

Y/N frowned, confused. “Are you sure it was me he was looking at?”

“Oh, absolutely,” the woman said, her eyes twinkling. “He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat. “What did he look like?” she asked, though she already had a sinking suspicion.

“Dark brown hair, striking greenish-blue eyes, and a sharp jawline. He looked like someone who belonged on the cover of a high-end sports magazine—tall and had an athletic build.”

Y/N’s stomach flipped. It couldn’t be… could it?

That evening, as she walked home, her mind raced. The description fit Lando perfectly, and the woman’s words were hard to ignore. Was it possible that he’d been there, watching her? And if so, why hadn’t he said anything?

By the time she reached her flat, she was too restless to sit still. She grabbed her phone and opened a message thread with Pietra.

Y/N: Can I ask you something? Was Lando my Secret Santa?

A few seconds later, her phone buzzed.

Pietra: Took you long enough to figure it out. Yes, it was him. And yes, he’s head over heels for you.

Y/N stared at the message, her heart pounding. Pietra’s words confirmed what the woman in the café had hinted at.

The next day, Lando texted her out of the blue.

Lando: Fancy a walk in Hyde Park? I’m in London for a couple of days.

Y/N hesitated but replied.

Y/N: Sure. When?

That afternoon, they met by the park entrance. Lando greeted her with his usual playful smile, though his eyes held a certain softness that made her heart flutter.

“Thanks for coming,” he said as they started walking.

“It’s nice to get some fresh air,” Y/N replied, trying to sound casual.

For a while, they strolled in comfortable silence, the crunch of gravel underfoot and the distant sound of children playing filling the gaps.

“Can I ask you something?” she said suddenly, stopping near a bench.

Lando turned to her, his hands in his coat pockets. “Anything.”

She took a deep breath. “Were you my Secret Santa?”

His lips twitched into a smirk. “What gave it away?”

“Pietra,” she admitted, folding her arms. “And maybe an old woman in a café who said you were staring at me like a lovesick puppy.”

Lando’s eyes widened, then he laughed—a warm, genuine sound. “Lovesick puppy, huh? That’s new.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat. “So… it’s true?”

Lando stepped closer, his teasing tone softening. “Yeah, it’s true. I was your Secret Santa. And I’ve been trying to tell you how I feel for months.”

Her breath hitched. “Lando…”

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re everything, Y/N. You’re funny, smart, kind, and you have no idea how much you light up a room just by being in it. I’ve been crazy about you since the day we met.”

She stared at him, her mind racing. All the little moments—the lingering looks, the teasing, the way he always seemed to be near her—suddenly made sense.

“I… I thought you were just being nice,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando chuckled softly. “I don’t flirt with just anyone, you know.”

Y/N bit her lip, her heart pounding. “I didn’t think someone like you would look at someone like me.”

His expression turned serious. “Y/N, you’re everything I’ve been looking for. And I don’t care about what I do or where I live. All I care about is you.”

Her eyes filled with tears as his words sank in. “You really mean that?”

He nodded, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “I’d do anything for you. You mean that much to me.”

Y/N smiled through her tears. “I think I’ve been falling for you too. I just didn’t realize it.”

Lando’s grin returned, playful yet full of warmth. “Took you long enough.”

Before she could reply, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle, heartfelt kiss. The world around them faded, leaving only the two of them in that perfect moment.

[catdia]

Arcane Characters with a Puerto Rican Fem S/O

Jayce, Viktor, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Ekko, Sevika, Vander (nsfw)

Jayce

I like the idea that he is also Latino/Hispanic

Maybe Brazilian or Colombian

My sexy Latin Papí

In Piltover there isn’t really a big Latin community, so when he heard that you were Puerto Rican he befriended you reallllll fast

You studied botany and tech ecology, while he engineering

You wanted to save your islands flora and fauna by incorporating advanced tech, while he wanted to improve lives with magic 

You believed his dream since the beginning, even if you looked at him sometimes like he was crazy

“You have no idea what these crystals are capable of! What if we combine those aqueducts you designed for plant growth with runes? We can triple food production by 110%!” Jayce wrote equations on the board, mind going miles per second

“You think it can regrow completely deforested areas in less than 40 years?” You humored him.

“What if we can do it in less than 10?! The possibilities are endless! I promise that when I crack this, I will paint the whole world green for you.” Did he know how to warm your heart…

Jayce is a super touchy person and always has to have skin to skin contact like a new born

You get mistaken for a couple a lot before you even officially started dating

Always kisses you on the cheek when you greet each other. A very Latino thing!

Piltover’s greetings are very cold, only handshakes and shoulder pats. So he was ecstatic to finally have someone to do it with outside his family

Viktor became a victim of your kisses. But he secretly enjoys it

Jayce always smells good! Ximena taught him good hygiene since he was little. Whenever he feels a light sweat coming on he immediately hits the showers

Has a gold chain! Never takes it off. It was originally his father’s.

Doesn’t speak very good Spanish, but you teach him in between Hextech protects and meetings

You guys talk endlessly about your backgrounds and even bring treats to each other

“Mmm— oh, fuck!” He moaned shoving another spoon full of food into his mouth. Eyes rolling to the back of his head

“Jayce it really isn’t that good.” You were blushing like crazy, completely forgetting the plate in front of you. You just wanted to do something nice for him

“What are you taking about?! It’s the best thing I’ve had in weeks!”

He had been working his ass off building the new Hextech towers and surviving on sandwiches for the past month

“I also brought dessert, if you are interested…”

Jayce looked at you with puppy dog eyes. Absolutely enamored. Cheeks full like a chipmunk

“I. Love. You. Soooo. Much.” Jayce said grabbing your face and kissing you all over

“Te amo, mi rey.” (I love you, my king.) You said while gently wiping the side of his lips with your thumb

Jayce can dance! And I mean really dance. Ximena put him in classes when he was little because she didn’t want him to forget his roots

Dancing with Jayce is about passion, making love on the dance floor. Bodies pressed against each other, hands running above hot pumping blood and flesh. Heavy eye contact that yells sex and pleasure

You guys have sex in the forge all the time, instead of pounding hot metal he pounds that wet pussy (hahaha!)

Watching him pull the chains of the fire pit just gets it going for you. Back sweaty from the flames and work. Tan skin so glossy like copper

From you just wanting some papers to be signed for an new upcoming project turned into you having him on the workshop table

“Just like that, mi reina (my queen ). Como me haces sentir tan bien.” (You make me feel so good.)”

Jayce was thrusting into your cunt, the wood of the desk rattleing with every give and take. Your hands on his bare ass and his bracing your sides

When Jayce found your cunt’s sweet spot, the one that made your head fall into his shoulder with your eyes rolling back; pornografic grunt on your lips, he found gold

“You like that?” He grinned, finding solace in pleasure he gave you. Amused at how his body served yours so well

“Mmmm— yeah…” You licked the sweat of his jaw, slight stubble rough against your tongue

You loved him so much. Him with his stupid little smiles and big hands. And oh those eyes that made you dream of a safer tomorrow

“Esos ojitos de miel son tan bonitos. Te quiero comer enterito, papí!” (Those honey eyes are so pretty. I want to eat you whole, love!) You were practically going feral at his grasp. Eating at his neck and chest, savoring the taste of ash on his skin

You leaned back on your elbows, breasts jumping at his thrusts. Grabbing his wrist and bringing his hand up to cup your tit. Watching his cock drill in and out of your pussy. He was close by the knit of his eyebrows. Hips becoming harsher and sloppy

Jayce teased your clit, moving his fingers in the way you liked. Loving the clench of your walls as you grained your pelvis on his dick

“Assssíííí, cabrón—”(jusssstt like that, fucker—)

You came together in a world wind of grunts and curses. You creaming on his cock. Jayce rested his body weight on you as he came undone. Easing his head from your collar bones and giving his lips a peck. You loved how disheveled he looked, all fucked out with empty watery eyes

“Want me to give you a blowjob as you sign these for me?” You said brushing the hair of his face. Thankful for the shower he had installed at your request

“I would be an idiot to say no!”

Jayce is the king of aftercare! He will always have a snack or even a little trinket to give you after sex

“Look, I made a little pendant of the PR map!” Jayce showed you the little piece of metal. White teeth glinting as he was so proud of his artistry

“Oh my God— it uhmm… It has character alright!”

It looked more like a disheveled bean but you wore it proudly everywhere! You love your man

When you start dating Jayce, Viktor became your much appreciated third wheel

You always pack extra goodies and food in Jayce’s lunch box so that he gets feed too

Getting sad when Jayce comes home with tears in his eyes because his friend doesn’t take good care in himself

You even go as far as bringing him homemade meal preps to his house so he always has a warm dinner

Jayce’s favorite dishes you make are anything meat based: Bistec encebollado (beef steak with grilled onions), pollo guisado (stewed chicken in red sauce served over white rice), and pernil (slow oven roasted pork with crispy skin)

Would never admit to his mamá that your cooking is better than hers

And his mom absolutely invites you over to cook with her

Saying that she needs to pass on her recipes to her future daughter-in-law

You like spending Christmas at the Talis residence. A big old family gathering with delicious food and music

Ximena was more than pleased knowing that Jayce got himself a Latin girl!

Get ready to pump out some big chunky babies! This man is a Latino at heart and that comes with a few kids running around

The first time you ever visited the Talis home, Ximena took out all of Jayce’s baby pictures

“Awww, look at your tushy! Plump as ever I see.”

Jayce put his head in his hands. Ears red from his naked baby photos that you were so entranced by

“Mamí, please for the love of God put them away!”

Ximena gave her wedding ring to Jayce shortly after you left. The ring was carved and made by Jayce’s late father

“Si te vas a casar con cualquier persona, Jayce, tiene que ser ella.” (If you’re going to marry someone, Jayce, it has to be her.)

You call Jayce cerebrito (little brain) and he loves calling you mi tesoro (my treasure)

Viktor

Viktor knows the struggles of making it in Piltover as an outsider, both being form the Undercity and physically disabled

And making it to the best academy in Piltover while being different was surely a merit on its own

From simple study buddies to lovers. You fell first, but he fell harder

You call him estrellita (little star) because of his many beauty marks

I’ve read that people like to headcanon him as Czech, and I like that…. I like at ALOT

Teaches your words in his language to talk shit behind Jayce’s back. And by shit I mean make fun of his failed prototypes

Viktor straight out asked you to teach him the dirties curse words PR has to offer. And oh boy, do you give him a colorful list—

Cabrón (bastard), puñeta (fuck), hijo de puta (son of a whore), me cago en tu madre (I shit on your mom), mama bicho (cock sucker) , me cago en na’ (I shit on nothing), vete pal carajo (go fuck yourself)—

One time he got pissed at Jayce for not doing an equation right that ended up with the lab half burned to the ground.

You just stood next to Viktor as you watched them bicker at each other like a married couple. Jayce cleaning up the ash of his failed work

“You should have run them by me or Sky first, Jayce! We are partners, not competitors!” Viktor threw his now burned lab coat at him, hitting Jayce in the chest

“Well you shouldn’t have been making improvements to the Hexcore without my knowledge then!” Jayce pointed at Viktor, nailing back the fallen boards with unnecessary force. Wow, grumpy Jayce never got old

“You know what, Jayce—” Viktor looked at you with a evil glint in his eyes. Oh, no… “¡Me cago en tu madre!”

Jayce gasped like an old woman seeing a half naked girl at church. Mama’s boy Talis was going out for blood today

“Don’t talk about my Mamí like that—” he pointed at Viktor, hammer in one hand ready to knock his brains out.

“Come here you fucker!” Jayce launched towards Viktor as he scrambled to the other side of the desk

“Jayce, please don’t strain him too much! I still would like him in one piece!”

You were caught in this mess trying not to laugh as Viktor ran away with a giggle from his soon to be killer

“Take it back or I’m going to take that leg brace I built off with the bone still attached!”

“Never!” Viktor yelled triumphantly

It ended with Jayce and Viktor on their ass thanks to a good back head slap on your part

Guava enthusiasts. You brought mantecaditos (short bread cookies with guava paste on top) one time to the lab and they were gone before Jayce could try them

“Seriously, Viktor you didn’t even save me one—“ Jayce was looking inside the tin box with sad puppy dog eyes. Only finding crumbs at the every bottom

“There weren’t that many in the box anyways, Jayce.” Viktor said hiding the last cookies in his desk drawer. You made over 40 cookies, but he was never going to tell Jayce that

He likes anything vinegar based and soups. Like guineitos en escabeche (boiled green bananas dressed in a vinegar sauce) and sancocho (a hearty stew with a bunch of meat and vegetables like cabbage and yams)

It’s so funny hearing him pronounce the foods he likes! Viktor is really good at rolling his r’s. His accent is just to cute!

“What did you want me to make you Viktor?” You tried to hide your laughter as you looked at a grumpy Viktor

“I told you that I want that dulce de lecussy. The one you made last week with pieces of cheese.” He huffed

“You mean dulce de LECOSA!” (candied papaya in sweet syrup with firm cheese) You crackled with lungs on fire from laughing so hard

“And what did I say then?!” He sassed at you trying to dim his smile

“That you basically wanted dessert pussy!!”

“I would mind that either, actually.” You gave him a slap on his shoulder. The sheer perversion of this man!

“¡Fo, que puerco eres!” (Ew, you’re such a pig!)

“How dare you call me a pig—” he gasped as you ran away from his wrath

He chased you with his cane and you ran around giggling trying to escape him

Viktor definitely has put in some weight and looks so much healthier

“I’m blaming you for my favorite trousers not fitting anymore.”

Once you showing him how real Puerto Rican girls twerk you created a new type of man. You decided to surprise him with a naked lesson. Rewarding him for the success of the Hextech gates.

“And what exactly do you call this?” Viktor rasped out. One hand firmly placed on your right hip. As the other went white holding the handle off his cane. Voice heavy with the heat of pleasure

“Perreo” you looked back at Viktor, watching him savor the ripples of your skin as you shook your body to the lyrics of Ivy Queen

“Mmm perreo…” he reaped absentmindedly

Pressing the cusp of your cunt on his clothed bulge, ass cheeks consuming and spilling out from his pelvis. Shaking your hips at various speeds and rhythms

Alternating between having your hands on the floor with your legs spread wide, having your knees bent with your fits on them, taking an ass cheek and spreading it so Viktor can see your sloppy pussy

“Eres bella.” (You’re beautiful.) heavy tongued, loving that the phrases you taught him were finally doing their magic

“Take that cock out now, jodio cabrón (fucking bastard).” Fuck did Viktor make you horny

“So vulgar.” He slowly unzipped his pants. Torturing you. He released his beautiful long cock. Dripping lines of precum down his head to his shaft 

You moaned at the sight of his dick, ready to be stuffed full. Spreading your pussy lips as an invitation. “Put it in.”

“I didn’t know that just a little dance could make you so aroused. Tell me what other— ohhhh, Janna!” Viktor had the wind knocked out of his lungs. Mouth gapping in pleasure

Sinking down his length shut him up. Pressing your ass until your cunt was consuming Viktor in a tight hold. Pushing him deep into the concrete

You swiftly shaking your ass faster than ever before. Not letting a single inches of that glorious dick escape your needy walls. One hand on the cold lab floor and the other playing with your clit

Viktor was whining, overwhelmed by the heat of your body. Hand letting go of his cane, it hit the ground with a powerful thud. Bracing himself on your hips

“I’m going to c-cum, my love—”

“Hechame esa leche adentro— mmmmmm… ¡Que rico eres, mi blanquito lindo!” (Cum inside me— mmmmmm… You’re delicious, my pretty little white boy!”)

Viktor came with a silente scream coating the inside of your pussy. If it wasn’t for the wall supporting Viktor’s back he would be on the ground by now

“That was incredible.” He stated, eyes wide with wonder and face flushed

He certainly asked for perreo lessons later on

And Viktor surprisingly can shake his hips very well! Which comes in handy for more than just one thing…

Vi

When you told her you were Puerto Rican she definitely said: “A mi me gusta la chocha de Puerto Rico.” (I love Puerto Rican pussy.)

You introduced her to reggaeton and now there is no going back, her favorite artist is Daddy Yankee

She likes to dirty dance with you, having your ass pressed against her pelvis. Especially when she has Bacardi in her veins

Vi doesn’t care what you put in her plate as long as it’s fresh and delicious

She enjoyes rice based dishes the most, like arroz con calamares (rice with calamari) and arroz con salchicha (rice with cocktail weenies)

She once downed a full bottle of coquito (coconut eggnog) on her own

Vi’s favorite dessert is arroz con coco (a coconut rice pudding)

She definitely makes fun of you for not being able to say certain words right!

Don’t EVER make a Puerto Rican say “jewelry” or “burglary”. We are allergic to L’s and R’s and it will cause us to go into septic shock!

Likes being called gringa by you. Thinks it’s hot when you say it, especially when she annoys the crap out of you

Her favorite curse word is vete pal’ carajo (go fuck yourself). And when she gets into scuffles or fights she always tosses it around

And she’s like “yeah, my girlfriend taught me that. I’m a bilingual queen as well.” She low key embarrassed the fuck out of you when she says that

“Vi, I really don’t want to do this—” Vi was strapping a pair of boxing gloves to your hands. “What if I get hurt? What if I hurt you?”

“Don’t worry about me, cupcake! I can take a few punches just fine. I’ll go easy on you. And besides—” she slapped the side of your headbrace. “I’ve seen you practice with Powder before. Ehh, it’s kind of pathetic how you throw a fist to be honest.” She gave your nose a peck, turning around and taking her side of the ring

“Hey! I’m a great hit!” You sassed placing your gloved hands on your hips

It was ON. You definitely were out for blood

“Then prove it! The stage is yours!” She ran the little bell that was attached at the wall.

It been less than 6 minutes in and you were already panting

Vi was definitely going light on you. Not even taking the spots you intentionally let open for her. She only dodged your every attempt to get a hit in

Light on her feet as she tripped your leg, causing you to fall on the ropes of the ring.

You wanted to call it, but your pride was too strong. And you equally stupid

“When are you going to hit me for real?! I didn’t think the great Violet was just a pussyfoot!” Vi pushed your buttons the right way. She loved when you got bratty

“You can’t take this heat, cupcake. I’ll knock you out until next Monday and Vander will have my head on a stick if I do.” She was right, but God did you want to wipe that smug look of her face!

“Oh, yes I can!” Your fist had a mind of its own. Angry as she was so cocky

Before you could think you took the open spot on her face. Hitting her square in the jaw, knocking her back on the rubber ropes. Vi was in shock and whiplashed by the quickness of your punch

“¡Ay, puñeta! ¡¿Violet, estás bien?!” (Oh, fuck! Violet, are you okay?!) You desperately took your gloves and stupid helmet off. The Velcro fighting your desperate attempt to pull it off

A drop of blood escaped her lips, Vi’s thumb flicked at the side of her mouth. Eyes on the smear of red, then up to you. Smirking at the damaged you inflicted

Fuck did you just make her 100 times hornier than she already was

“That kind of hurt.” Translation: it hurt like hell!

By the fire in her eyes you knew that you were so screwed. Your belly grew warm, the hole between your legs clenching on nothing

“Vi, I’m s-so sorry! I told that this was a bad—”

In a swift play of time, she pinned you against the ground. Having her left arm around your neck in a headlock, her left hand on your shoulder. As her legs trapped yours under her thighs, having them spread out with your pelvis arching forward. Both of your arms crossed behind your back pinned by the weight of your body

You moaned at the discomfort. Muscles tired by the training, you tried your best to wiggle out. Only for Vi to hold you harder against herself

“What’s wrong, cupcake? Bit off more than you can chew?” You did answer her with words, but with that glint in your eyes that meant (Fuck me, you damned raspberry bitch)

She slithered your baggy pants past your knees. Your pantieless cunt up in the air. Vi loved how you were always easy to access. From fingering you in public to her eating you out in some random alley

“Naughty girl. Who knew decking me in the face could get your pussy so wet.” She dipped a finger in your folds. Scooping the wetness and pulling it out to watch it drip

She gave your cunt a slap and your clit fluttered at the assault. Pulsating for more

“You like that, uhh?”

“Y-yeah—”

Vi gave you a plethora of open palmed hits. Juices streaming down your ass. Yelping as your cunt was being abused. All swollen and red

Vi thrusted her fingers into your opening in a scissoring motion. Her bloody thumb circling your clit

“V-vi— ahhhhaaamm! No puedo ver másss.” (I cant see anymore) Gurgling on the spit of your throat. Ready to pass out any second

Your vision went white by the lack of oxygen and the way Vi’s fingers played with your cunt so deliciously. Hot tears burning your skin from the constant stimulation

You stuck your tongue out, spitting saliva out thanks to the lack of air in your lungs. Face ready to turn blue. But did it make your body feel good…

“Just a little more— alright?”

Vi curled the tips of her fingers on your g spot and digged them in far into your crevice. Shaking her wrist to send vibrations to your whole pussy

You bit her forearm, shocks of pleasure coursing out the inside of your walls. Your teeth broke the skin, tasting the blood of your lover

Squirting the liquid of your orgasm on the ring’s floor. Vi let your body go, your lungs reviving in painful gulps of air

Vi turned you on your side, massaging your ribs and sternum. Licking the spit around your temple. She kissed your lips, careful not to take more oxygen from your body

“Who is going to clean this up?” Voice hoarse. Your mouth tasted coppery

“Lick the floor clean, losers get janitor duty.” She slapped your ass, you groaned at the lack of humanity. Vi got up from the floor and headed to her water bottle. Instead of taking a drink she poured it on her chest and hair. Nipples highlighted through her white sports bra. She pushed her wet hair back arms flexing a she felt your gaze on her

“We don’t got all night, cupcake. Avanza (hurry up).”

What a tease

Caitlyn

This girl has never know flavor until you came around

You were the daughter of one of her mother’s tailors and stylist. Your mom always brought you along to see her clients because she wanted you to take over one day

When you first visited the Kiramman residence you were blown away by the beauty of the estate. Your mom told you that this client would take longer than the others because she ordered a whole custom made ball gown

“I have a daughter, Caitlyn, about your age as well! Maybe you ladies can be friends! God knows my girl needs a gal pal.” She said excitedly as she was getting fitted for her gown.

Mrs. Kiramman gave you the liberty to explore the gardens as your mother worked. And you sat down near the water fountain to have your snack

“Esta gente si que tiene chavos…” (These people sure do have money…)

As you were munching on your sandwiches you saw a head of indigo hair peeking out from the rose bushes. A young girl

“Caitlyn, right? Do you want one?” You ask stretching your arms with your lunch in your hands. She timidly walked towards you

“What are they?” The girl asked as she sat next to you

“Sandwiches de mezcla (spam and velvita sandwiches) and platanutres (thinly fried plantain chips) ! They are really good, I made them fresh this morning.”

Caitlyn looked at them, and gently picked up a sandwich. Slowly taking a bite as she looked at your happy face.

Her eyes sparkling at the soft bread and salty spread

“Mmmm— I’ve never had anything like this before!” She then picked up some plantain chips. Savoring the salty crunch of them.

You quickly become friends. Cait even convinced her mother that she liked wearing fancy clothes just so that she could she you more frequently

Mrs. Kiramman was ecstatic that her little girl was going to wear more dresses than only her school uniform

Cait even goes as far as to ask her mom to invite you to her birthday party. The only close friend she really had was Jayce. And there were only going to be adults from other houses and The Council

You also became friends with Jayce, you both taught Cait how to dance bachata and salsa

“Cait move your hips more! You are stiff as a board, mija (girl)!” You said guiding her feet to the music

“I don’t have hips to shake!” She said as her cheeks flushed

Cait knows only a few Spanish phrases thanks to Jayce. Girl can’t roll her r’s or say her l’s even to save her life

She is a sweets girl! Loves flan de queso (cream cheese flan) and flan de vanilla (vanilla flan)

When she finally confessed her love for you she did it in Spanish. She practiced with Jayce for almost a month to get the emotions right

“Me gustas mucho. Te adoro. ¿Quieres ser mi novia?” (I like you a lot. I adore you. Do you want to be my girlfriend?) She handed you a bouquet of lilacs. You were so excited that you knocked her on her ass! You hit your head on a table and both of you spend your commitment with ice on your limbs

You watched each other grow up, you becoming a seamstress like your mother. And Cait going against all Mrs. Kiramman’s wishes and graduating from the Enforcer Academy

You join Cait in the private shooting classes with Officer Grayson. Both excellent shoots, but you not so much. You’re better in close range with a handgun

She looks so sexy in her enforcer outfit!

Lost your virginities to other other! It was the day of her graduation of the academy. When everyone was clustered in the Kiramman estate celebrating her accomplishment

You sneaked away together to her bedroom. Stealing a tray of hors d’oeuvres and a bottle of wine. Wanting to get away from the elite of Piltover

You were on her bed, stuffing your mouth with cheese and crackers

“You’re going to get crumbs on my sheets.”

“Are you going to give me a ticket for it?” Caitlyn scoffed at you as you tentatively shoved another bite in your mouth

Caitlyn stood in front of the mirror. Fixing her medals and badges that hung on the fabric. You knew her too well, she was picking herself apart. Thinking that she only got in the academy because of her name only

“I think I would get used to calling you “Officer Kiramman” you said crawling to the edge of the bed, bottle of wine in your hand. Lying on your stomach with your palm under your chin. Looking at the pretty lady in blue

You patted the spot next to you, discarding the bottle to the floor. Crossing your legs on the mattress

She walked to the bed and sat next to you, leaving her top hat on her bedroom ottoman

“Caitlyn, you have to believe me when I say that you are so much more than your house” You held her temple in your palm, she held your wrist. Closing her eyes as she savored your compassion

“You are more talented than those silver spooned pricks out there! You may have the same money and influence, but they will never reach the level of talent you have. Because what is all this power for if you don’t have the heart to push change? You care, Cait! And I saw with my own eyes how you make others do as well. Like the time you told your mom to give a raise for her maids and workers! Remember that?”

She giggled, remembering that day she saw your mother counting her last few coins to afford a new pair a shoes for you. Cait yelled at Mrs. Kiramman for hours, until she finally gave into her mistake

Next time she saw you there was a brand new pair of shoes on your feet that had you running up to Cait to tell her all about

And that instance evolved into Cait wanting a better world for you. She wanted to change the concrete you walked on into fields of flowers

“Thank you, I really needed that…”

“It also helps that you have a nice pair of tits.” You joked as you pointed to her Enforcer jacket

“You minx!”

She slapped your shoulder and chuckled as you faked your hiss in pain. Rolling around the bed as you help your poor “broken” arm!

“Ohhh, I’ve been a victim of police brutality!”

“I’ll show you brutality, bebé (babe)!”

She climbed on top of you, tickling your sides

“¡Cait, para que no puedo respirar!” (Cait, stop I can’t breathe!) Cait stopped her attach, watching as your chest rose to catch the missing breaths. Your cheeks rosie in adrenaline

She wanted you there with her always. Your hair on her pillows and the smell of your skin lingering on the buttery covers

“Cait?” You asked as you calmed down. Looking at her in worry

“Fuck it” Cait thought, as her lips captured yours in an estranged kiss.

After years of ghostly touches, of lingering eyes, and Jayce calling your romance worse than nuns in love in a convent. She wanted to go the next level with you

You pulled her in, rolling yourself on top

“Are you sure?” You asked bracing her neck

“It would be my honor to have my first time with you.” And yours as well. You started to take layers of your bodies

You both laughed at your struggle to unclip her blouse. Her fingers guiding yours as she showed you the intricacy of the clasps

“I guess that “enforcement” also extends to your uniform.”

“That’s why I only let you make my garments—” Caitlyn kissed the corner of your eye. “They are much more second party friendly.” You pushed the shirt of her body, surprised at the nakedness of the chest

“No bra?” You cupped her breast, feeling the goose bumps of her skin. Her breath hitched at the coldness of your hands

“I didn’t just expect half ass handshakes and putrid marriage proposals as graduation presents.” Cait took charge, pinning you against the edge of the bed. Crawling downwards to your core

She raised your skirt, white sheer stockings held by a lacy garter around your waist. Her eyes widened at the lack of fabric covering your mound

“You weren’t the only one expecting more than just pat on the shoulder tonight.” You moaned as she spread apart your lips

Cait dove in between your legs. Hands in your hips as she guided her tongue along your folds. Nose resting on the shell of your clit

“I t-think, ahhh, you underestimate yourself too much, Cait.” She focused on your bud, rolling her lips on it. Then sucking ever so lightly to draw whimpers out of your vocal cords

“¡Ya no aguanto más! Yo creo que—” (I can’t bear it anymore! I think that—)

You came with a grunt, arching your back of the matters. Head filling with rushed blood as it hanged free of support from the mattress. As you were lost in your high, Cait placed her cunt on yours and rolled her hips. Feeling her clit make love to yours. Your previous orgasm used at oil to make her slip against your pleasures

“Ready for another round?” She whispered into your raised calf. Teeth ripping the material of your stockings. She will buy you new ones, better ones.

Caitlyn was born into wealth and privilege, but she is the most understanding girl you’ll ever met

When you pointed out the problem, she found a solution even if it meant going against her high society

You opened her eyes to the real world and she is so thankful for that

Mel

You were part of the council serving as an international ambassador like her

When Mel first saw what you brought to the council she wanted only to use you as a pawn

But she fell in love with your want for progress, one that actually breaks cycles and not just one that covers them with empty promises

She saw herself in you, a woman that wanted to break the bounds of her past convictions

Neither of you had houses in Piltover and shared different cultural backgrounds than the others

You secretly make fun of the culture shocks you experienced when first moving to Piltover

Both you and Mel HATE the cold that comes with Piltovan winters

She knew about your country and even speaks fluent Spanish thanks to her mother being a Noxian general.

Mel is a scholar, she read up on everything PR before ever making a move on you

Even if she already read up on everything she asks you questions just to hear you rant about your roots

“Is it true that Puerto Rico has the best coffee? I’ve been planning on investing in some companies, but I’m still on the fence…” Mel said in a quizzical tone. Tapping her pen to her chin

Your eyes sparkled. “We have the BEST coffee! Did you know that we have almost 3,000 coffee farms in all PR?! And we also have started to produce cacao as well. It’s incredible considering—” you ranted out

She zoned out, just appreciating the beauty of which you speak so lovingly about a simple thing as coffee beans

You teach her how to make homemade sofrito (a wet spice blend made with sweet peppers, cilantro, recao, and other herbs)

But your favorite memory is when you made dulce de leche together because Mel wanted to make a tiered cake for Alura’s birthday

“¿Quieres probar un poco?” (Want to try some?) You had already some on your index finger for yourself, but you were dipping the wooden spoon for Mel to taste

“Absolutely.” She took the spoon out of your hand and placed it back in the pot. Mel grabbed your wrist

She brought your finger to her mouth. Feeling the velvety muscle roll on your finger pad. Mel took your digit all the way to the knuckle. Slowly pulling her head back with a moan

“It could use some more vanilla.” Mel said dipping her finger back into the caramel. You were felt stunned, mouth gapping and your temple rose red

“What about the sugar?” You cringed as your voice broke. Screaming mentally about getting a grip. You literally have the prettiest woman in Piltover at your wake, and here you are speaking like a teen hitting puberty!

“Mmm, I can find another way to make it a little sweeter…”

“Strip for me, darling.” You did has she commanded. Shredding off the layers of clothing all to please her

You loved the way she looked at you, eyes of a lioness. They held a power over you, you ate from her hands

She took the pot by the handle and tilted it until syrup flowed out the metal. Pouring lukewarm dulce de leche on your skin. As if she was washing the body of a queen. It slowly dripping down your body. From your nipples to the crescents of your abdomen

Flicking her finger up the cusp of your breast to your nipple. Collecting the sugary treat only for her to give her finger to you. You repeating the same action she did moments before

She stared at the base of your neck, then at your chest. Occasionally, coming back to you and sticking out her tongue so you could eat it out of her mouth. You didn’t know who was sweeter. Mel or the candy you made together

Mel kittened licked your areolas clean, never breaking eye contact with you. As her hot tongue cleaned you off

Mel stripped shortly after. The gold birthmarks of her body reflecting in the light. She takes the spoon an and spreads the dulce de leche on her ass cheeks. Candy flowing down her thighs

“Eat up.”

You sat on the floor staring with the drizzle on her thighs, then raising to the globes of her ass. Licking the syrup of her smooth skin. Nibbling at the small golden freckles that decorated her dark skin

“Is it sweet enough now, darling?”

You ordered a cake from an expensive bakery in Piltover and called it a day. What Alura didn’t know won’t hurt her

She definitely stuffed your pussy with her paint brushes when she is working on a new project

Having your legs spread wide for her as he picks up a brush for your entrance, making sure she thrusts it in and out a few times to get a moan for you

Sucking the juices of the handle then dipping the bristles in red paint

And what about you eating her out in her office when she is working?! The possibilities are endless with Mel

For me she is the type to love anything you make her. There is so much diversity in Puerto Rican cuisine and her just picking one is impossible in her eyes.

But man does she appreciate a fresh mofongo relleno de camarones (smashed fried plantain topped with shrimp in a tomato sauce)

And you also teach her the basics of bomba (a tradicional African dance). Even gifting her a custom made traditional outfit to make your dance rehearsals all the more authentic

Mel takes you on lavish vacations to the island. Staying at the best hotels and you serve as a guide to her. Taking Mel to all your favorite local spots to eat pinchos (meat skewers) and drink Medallas (Puerto Rican beer)

You took her to your favorite archipelagos and little islands surrounding PR. And skinny dipped into the various bioluminescent bays at night. Mel had never had such a good time in her life

“Querida (love), I have a present for you.” Mel entered your shared living space. Medium canvas in hand

“Oh, Mel! You didn’t have to! Is there any special occasion that I forgot about?!” You got up from your stop on the couch, greeting her with a kiss

“No, love. I just wanted to do something special.” She turned the canvas around. You squealed at the art piece. She never disappoints!

“Mel! ¡Qué pintura más espectacular! (What an espectacular painting!) The water and sand look so life like! I can’t wait to hag this up in my office!”

“I painted it after we got back from holiday. It’s that big archipelago you took me at the end of your trip.” She circled your waist for behind, resting her chin on your shoulder

“Yes, Cayo Icacos! Oh my God, it even has the same dock and the coast line!” You said admiring the canvas

“There is also on more thing—” She walked over your wine cabinet, pouring two glasses of wine. “I bought Icacos for us. So we can spend your winter vacations there. Alone. Together.” She kissed your jaw, handing you the glass

“Oh like you rented it out for us?” You took a swig, moaning at the sweet undertones

“No, I got the government to officially sell it to me and put it under our names.” Mel said nonchalantly. You sip out your wine in shock

Yep, you definitely passed out shortly after

Ekko

You were one of the people that lost everything to Silco. Your community was slowly taken by Shimmer and gang wars

Ekko and the Firelights rescued you from Silco’s men. You didn’t want to join his web of crime and they proceeded to burn your shop with you inside

If it wasn’t for them being close by you would have lost more than just a few inches of healthy skin

Ekko teaches you how to fix things, how to clean and go at any loose cables their hover skateboards may have

You also picked up flying those boards pretty quickly, he made sure to make them as user friendly as possible

You were sitting on one of the many branches of the Tree, watching the children play and seeing the progress of the new faces in the mural. Fuck did it hurt seeing those paint brushes touch the trunk of the tree

The branch shook with the addition of a foreign weight

“Lost in thought, chica (girl).” You looked up at Ekko, still wearing his Firelight coat with his white owl mask hanging from his belt

“Tell me what’s your mind.” He sat next to you, bumping your shoulder playfully

“I fell like I’m not doing much— like I’m not doing anything. Like I-I’m a burden to this place.” You sighed, throat tight with anxiety. Eyes burning with hot tears

“And what do you want to do?” Ekko asked, holding your hand that was resting your lap. Shining brown eyes studying your features

God why was he so damn handsome when you are in the middle of a breakdown!

“I just d-don’t want to stand by— and — and watch my people be slaughtered…” You said between jagged lips

Ekko smirked at your answer, slowly pulling away from you and placing a box on your thighs

“What is it?” You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand

“Open.” Ekko leaned back on his palms, trying his best to keep his cool guy act even if he was nervous as hell inside

You opened the box, inside there was a Firelight mask. One shaped like the face of a bird like many others in group

Suddenly you remembered that faint pop of green in the sky from your childhood. Of a little green bird that would eat your grandmas tomatoes from her garden

Your eyes widened. What is this really what you think it is?

“Ekko— is this a cotorra puertorriqueña (PR’s national bird)?” You said in aw, lifting the mask and examining its details. Feeling the emotion Ekko put into carving it

“I’m sorry it took so long, but I wanted to make something that would represent you—” He took a small book from of his coat, falling apart by age. “And I landed on that. I found this book in one of the flee markets I went to.” He flipped the pages, letting you see the images and words on the pages. Everything from fauna to history was written on it

Ekko pointed at an image of the bird. “It just screamed you— beautiful and free. I-I mean also many other things like—”

You cut Ekko of with an embrace, holding the mask to your chest

“No sabes cuán agradecida estoy, Ekko. Gracias, gracias, gracias…” (You don’t know how grateful I am for this, Ekko. Thank you, thank you, thank you…) You sobbed on his shoulder, gripping him tightly as if something was going to take him away from you

“Por nada, chica (you’re welcome, girl).” Ekko whispered, arms circling your back

You cook for the Firelight community and when it’s your turn to serve your food the line triples with people more than other days

Ekko even made space for a little herb garden for you! And you have some plantain trees growing in

He likes helping you cook as well. His favorite thing to do is cut, mash, and fry tostones (plantain fritters)

Wouldn’t it be cool for Ekko to have some Caribbean background?! Like Jamaican, Trinidadian, or even Dominican

I can just see Ekko going ham on a pastelón de carne (a sweet plantain lasagna with ground beef and mozzarella cheese)

You give the kids and the adults Spanish lessons. And private ones to Ekko (wink wink)

I believe that the community has a beautiful shower pace! Filled with plants and vines that filter the water making it crystal clear. It’s almost like a never ending waterfall. And it’s especially breathtaking at night when the moon and fireflies light the place up

It was past midnight, and you just got back from other painstaking parole. Dirt coating your clothing and skin

You head straight to the showers. Discarding your clothes on the bench of the makeshift stall you were in.

The stream was cool to your skin, nursing those fresh bruises on your arms and thighs. Grateful for the fresh washcloths, liquid soap and towels that were replenished after every use

You turned around at the sound of an object falling. Ekko’s pupils wide at the sight of your bare breasts and ass. As his owl mask laid on the floor. Who long was he there looking? Did he like what he was looking at?

“S-shit I’m sorry! I thought that it was empty! I’m just gonna—”

“It’s okay— you can stay if you want, Ekko…” Did one of Silco’s goons hit you to hard on the head? Ekko hesitated at first, but when you gave him a nod

You saw him taking off his clothes. Body littered with old scars. He stepped into your space. Both you and him admiring your bodies, if it wasn’t for the cold water you would be in flames

Trying your best to not look at his cock. You started washing off the white paint, careful of not to get any in his eyes. And he did the same, washing your face and neck. A blush on your cheeks

“I believe that “Boy Savior” is an understatement—” Feeling his toned stomach under the soapy washcloth. “You are more of a man than a lot of people out there.”

“Can I kiss you?” He brushed his thumb along the curves your your lips

“Yes…”

Ekko leaned into your lips. He hungered you for a long time, scared that if he got to close you’ll disappear like all his past loved ones

He touched the purple bruise on your rib as he wanted to pull you in, you gasped in pain breaking the kiss. His touch recoiled, then slowly came back in feather like stokes

“You should have never gotten this hurt!” He was angry at himself, it should have been him getting hurt. Not you, never you!

“I shouldn’t have been so focused on destroying those Shimmer barrels…” He pressed his forehead on yours. Eyes crimson with hurt

“We signed up for this, I did too. And if making the Underground better means a few scrapes and headaches, then I’m more than happy to do so.” Thumb wiping away his stray tears

“What can I do to make this up to you?” He kissed the pulse of your wrist

“If you shut up and make love to me.”

He backed you against the rocky wall, water cascading in between your bodies. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Moans concealed by the rush of the water

Ekko’s hips meet yours as he dropped and lifted your body on his arms. Cock hitting you gummy walls and g-spot

“¡Clávame más fuerte! ¡Quiero que se te rompa el bicho de tan duro que me rócese!” (Fuck me harder! I want you to break your dick with how hard you give it to me!)

Nails scratching his back, adding to the multitude of wounds on his body. You both were going to hurt so bad in the morning

“You drive me crazy, chica (girl)!”

You came in his cock in the final thrust, body pulsating with the warmth of your orgasm and the ice of the water

He pulled out and came on your stomach, kissing your neck hard enough to leave traces of your escaped. Your legs jelly at the knees

You and Ekko spent the last hours of night in the streams. Basking in the freshness of your flesh. Having each other on every wall and surface possible

“You know what I’m feelin’ right now?”

“Like your cock is going to fall off?” You said into his chest as you laid back with him on the wooden bench looking at the moon. Ekko’s chest rumbled in a chuckle

“That, and a hot bowl of asopao de pollo (chiken and rice soup).”

Sevika

Sevika definitely has a thing for Latinas

You moved to Piltover a few years ago and started working at The Last Drop. There was an influx of Spanish speaking people and Vander was desperately looking for a bilingual server

He hired you on the spot not caring how many years of experience you had

She basically became your unofficial body guard. Scaring of creeps that got to friendly while you were working

You taught her how to play dominos and you still ended up losing! You had to make her sorullitos (fired cornmeal sticks) for a month

She helps you give out food to the kids and homeless people around the Undercity. It breaks her heart seeing you cry over the people that suffer thanks to Piltover

After she lost her arm you took care of her. Making her cope with a new life change and the challenges that came with it

And you best believe you chewed her ear off about the whole Vander and Silco situation. Refusing to work for Silco and running your own food business to get by

There aren’t many South East Asians in the Undercity or in Piltover, and you bonded because of the lack of a community.

I think you guys talk a lot about the men in your life, how they treated both of you with violence. How toxic males can be thanks to your cultures never giving them consequences for there actions

Talking about how unworthy Sevika felt for just being born a woman, and a queer woman at that. How she finally broke away from all the stereotypes and became a force to be reckoned with after the death of her father

You heal each others soul wounds by embracing the best of your heritage 

She knows all the Indian beauty secrets! She is the one that washes and oils your hair. Saying that “you don’t know how to take care your hair”

“Sevika, I feel like my scalp is about to start bleeding!” You wiggled away as the scalp massager dug into the sensitive parts of your head

“That means it’s working! Stop being a baby.” She poured more warm oil on your head and ignored your whining

She just wants to do something nice for you and loves your reaction as you see how long your hair as gotten since getting together

A lot of the spices that you both use for your cooking it basically nonexistent in the underground

And if they sell them, they go for an arm and a leg (hahaha amputation joke)

So Sevika makes sure that she puts special orders in the smuggling catalog for all the spices, herbs and produce that you both need to make delicious meals

You put her on to tropical fruits. From the massive avocados to the sweet and sour passion fruits

“So when I’m getting a taste of your papaya?” She is a massive flirt.

Sevika’s love language is making you a cup of chai every morning

She is mostly vegetarian, only occasionally eating meat. So her favorite food that you make is also a labor of love

So I just know she loves the pasteles you make. They literally take you a whole day to prepare. From cooking the pork or chicken, toasting the banana leaves on the stove, grading the plantains, making the red oil, and wrapping them up to look like a present

It was the holiday season and you sold almost 30 preorders of your 12 count pasteles. Making big bank, but losing your peace filling all these orders in time for Christmas Eve

She says that she will “help” but she stands leaning on the counter as you fold the banana leaves in place as she munches on plantain chips

Sevika thought you were the sexiest at home in your batas (old lady dresses or muumuus). She could clearly see the outline of your body thanks to the sheer fabric. Especially liking how your nipples got hard in the cold air and the fat mound of your hairy pussy when you didn’t wear panties with the nightgown

With a frustrated look on your face when the leaf doesn’t want to work with you

Cursing under your breath “Hijo de puta— yo te digo…” (“Son of a bitch— I’m telling you…”)

“You look so sexy when you’re frustrated, mamí…” Sevika cradled your hips from behind. Kissing the curve of your nec

“Was helping me all bullshit Sevika?”

“You forget that I only have one arm left?” She said patting her empty shoulder. Smirking at your eye roll

You weren’t amused at all at her joke. “Haha, very funny…”

“But I have other ways to help you at least…” Her hand slowly creeping under your dress strap

“Like what?” You questioned her, eyebrows raised

Sevika was in between your legs as you made the last batch of pasteles for the night

Nightgown discarded on the floor

Sucking on your clit each time you finished folding a pastel. Slowly pulling it away from her mouth and letting it go with a pop. Her two middle fingers thrusting in and out of your entrance

She watched from the kitchen floor as your breasts heaved at every lick of her tongue. Biting your outer lips when you didn’t fold the leaves fast enough

“¡Comeme la tota así mismoooo!” (Eat my pussy just like thatttt!) You made those pasteles as if you were on steroids

Her nose pressed against your mound breathing the smell of your cunt. The smell of a grown woman was intoxicating to her.

Sevika speed up her fingers and tongue, you wanted to come undone. But pushed through the last of them

Your hands braced the counter as your orgasm took over. Raising one of your legs of the ground so Sevika could drink your release fully. She groaned at the taste, vibrations sending heat through your overstimulated body

You sucked a breath, peering down your bottom half. Sevika resting her head on your inner thigh, sucking purple marks on your flesh. Jaw coated in your silk. Grey eyes drinking in your dazed face

“I believe I was more than enough help. Don’t you agree, muñeca (doll)?” She gave you clit a little kiss, pleasure running up your spine

“Eres terrible, ‘Vika—” (you’re terrible, ‘Vika—) you let out breathlessly. Ruining your fingers through her short hair

She took her fingers out of your pussy, and you leaned down to taste yourself on her. Indulging in the salty sweet flavor of your bodies. Lapping her fingers clean and then kissing Sevika. Her lips push against yours

“Mmm my compliments to the chef.” You had more than one good fuck that night on the floor with Sevika

Who knew that pasteles were such an aphrodisiac?

If they ask you why these were so delicious you just smile shyly and say: “I just put a little extra love (orgasm) into them.”

Vander

As a bartender he absolutely was inspired to make a cocktail menu for you. Makes you his official taste tester for any new drink he plans to put in the menu

You owned a small food stand in the Underground ever since he was working in the mines

And it was always packed with people in and out of work

You got together shortly after Vander stopped your shop from getting mugged by some punks

Vander is a coffee lover and always makes it a routine to get up early in the mornings just so that he can have a hot cup of Puerto Rican joe with fresh butter and bread on the side

Thankful that you always feed his kids when he doesn’t have time to cook for them, and free at charge with at that

But he always sneaks more than enough coin into your tip jar when he visits you after a rough day

“Does Vander ever feed you guys at all?” You asked serving another customer

“He does but he burns everything he cooks—” Vi said licking her fingers clean from the delicious poultry you made

“Can I have another piece of chicken, tití (auntie)?” Powder said holding her empty plate at you, big eyes looking at you with love. Mouth covered in red sauce

“Con esos ojitos (with those little eyes) who can say no to you Pow-Pow!”

Yes his kids call you auntie and I’ll take that to the grave!

Whenever you call him “Hound” he blushes! And you make fun of him a lot for it as well. Calling him a dog as you catch him looking at your ass as you bend over to get plates and watching your tits jiggle as you make your fresh pressed juices.

Coquito (coconut eggnog) is his all time favorite drink, second to guarapo (sugar cane juice). And when you gave him a shot to try it solidifies his want to open a bar so he can make delicious drinks like this

When it’s the holidays Vander lets you have parrandas (live Puerto Rican music parade) at the bar. You introduced him to el guiro (a type of musical instrument) and la pandereta (small hand drum). And he plays them really well!

“Maybe those big hands are not just useful for punching things, huh Vander?” You played along side him as you watched the kids for a dance circle. Chuckling at Powder’s lack of feet coordination as she stepped on Mylo’s toes

“I will have to show you sometime. You will certainly be surprised, love.” You blushed, quickly going over the other musicians to sing your part of the chorus. You felt his eyes on you the whole time, loving the attention he gave you

The kids went to sleep as midnight approached. The adults enjoying their late drinking. Vander was leaning against the bar as you danced with Sevika. Watching you teach her the basics of bachata so that she could impress the girl she was pinning for

“You’re not so bad at this, Sevika!” She twirled you around

“Na, I’m better at the cards than all of this.” Sevika said, still looking at your feet as you guided her steps

In the corner of your eye you saw this other girl go up to Vander. You didn’t hear what they were thanks to the loud music. But you saw him shaking his head “no”. The girl turned around annoyed, flicking her wrist at him as dismissing a dog. Wishing her eyes found a brain in the back for her skull as she rolled them. You thought she finally back off. But you were wrong…

She pressed her ass against the front of his pants, shaking her flat flabby ass. Vander choking in his drink in pure shock. Trying to push the girl away

Before Sevika could stop you, you were already across the other side of the bar. Fist clenched, Vander making brief eye contact with you. His eyes widened at your wrath. Uh oh…

“¡Èl dijo que no jodia puta! ¡Te voy a romper la cara!” (He said no you fucking whore! I’m going to break your face in!) Grabbing her hair by the root and dragging her off to the bar floor. Her screaming and sinking her nails on your forearms, drawing blood. You screamed at her attach

You hear people cheer and yell at you to: “teach her to not touch anyone’s man again”.

Throwing your body weight back and making her crash into the round tables. Before the girl could even process the pain you straddled her stomach and punched her face in. The alcohol in your system making you rabid

“Love, that’s enough!” Vander pulled your fingers off the girls body. You were thrashing against his hold. Sevika hoisted the other woman taking her out of the bar.

“Everyone, out!” Vander yelled. You watched bodies move with blurry eyes. You still thirsty for blood.

“¡Déjame! (Let go!) ! Ugh, Vander!” He threw you over his shoulder. You punching his muscular back for him to let you go. He took you into the supply closet behind the bar. Dropping your feet on the floor.

“Let me out Vander! She is not getting off that easy for touch you like that!”

You wobbled like a new born fawn, holding the shelves for support. Vander locked the door and turned on the dim light abode your heads.

“Sit your ass down! I’m not tellin’ you twice…” Vander warned, pointing at the large empty barrel. You stared him down on your tippy toes. Blue eyes piercing yours.

“You really want to go there, sweetheart?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. Getting close enough to smell the whiskey and smoke on his breath. The smell of your man

You wanted those hands around your throat. You wanted him to fuck the brat out of you. Your fight for dominance was short lived

“Fine.” You caved in and sat down with an annoyed plop. Grumbling at him with your arms crossed

God, did you love the control he had over you. You loved a man that put you in your place, while still being caring and loyal

Vander turned his back to you while looking for the first aid kit. Admiring the thickness of his body. And those pants that made his ass and legs look so delectable

“If I wouldn’t have stopped you, you’ll be heading to Stillwater by the end of the night.” Vander stood in front of you, raising your head to meet his warm gaze

“I’m sorry—” You whispered as your eyes became teary

“Christ, love! You would have killed her!” He lifted your arms to see the damage. Cleaning your wounds with alcohol. You hissed at the burn. Vander slowly wrapping your forearms with white gauze

“I’ve never seen you act like that before—” Breaking the silence. “I didn’t think a lady such as yourself could be so violent, so jealous…”

Vander would never admit that he loved what you did to that girl. How sexy you were while beating the shit out of a stranger just for him. It made him feel loved in a fucked up way

He lifted your bandaged arms to his lips. Breathing the scent of your wounds

“Tell me, love. Are all Puerto Rican women like that?” He asked innocently, looking at your face with curiosity

“I’m not just a jealous woman, Vander… I’m going to tell you a little secret about us puertorriqueñas.” You said stroking his bearded cheek. “We are territorial. And we fight for what is ours, even if it means that I have to fucking sink my teeth into any whore that touches mi hombre (my man)” You said between your gritted teeth, pulling Vander towards you. Tongue sinking into his mouth tasting faint of whiskey

You pulled his belt, harshly tugging it open. Feeling his hard cock through the fabric. God, did you want to get that whore’s smell of him. Replace it with the scent of your cunt

“You are mine, Vander. And I am yours.”

His eyes dialed, pants ever so uncomfortable. Vander launched at you, lifting you by your legs and kissing your lips. Your back gently hitting against the liquor shelves

He quickly discarded your bottoms, you gave his length a few pumps then lined it up against your cunt. You could never get bored of the sight of his cock, or the hot stretch it gave you

“Choke me, Vander!” You yelled, pussy filled with him. His hand was placed in your neck in a moment. Fingers pressing your pulse points.

Vanders thrusting was meet with the sounds of clinking bottle and the rattling of the shelves. He was a beast, slapping your entrance at full force as moans were caught on your airway. Velvety walls sucking him in. Heavy balls knocking against the push of your cheeks.

“I’m gonna cum, lovie—” He let go of the hold on your throat. “Where do you want it?”

“In my mouth!” Vander dismounted you. Cock glossy from the slick of your pussy

You kneeled on the ground, fingers fucking your pussy. Taking that big veiny dick in one go, slurping your combined juices as his tip hit the back of your throat. Vander’s hand resting in your hair. Your other hand massaging his balls

Vander came with a grunt, back of his head hitting the wooden shelves. Gasping in surprise as it coated your mouth. He was going to need ice for that later, you thought, enjoying the creaminess of his cum

Sticking your tongue out to show him his release. Then moaning as you swallowed it

“You dirty girl.” Biting your lip as he cursed at your seduction

“My dirty dog.”

You licked his cock clean. Pulling his foreskin in between your lips. Kissing it all around and making out with his tip slit. You nibbled at his shaft, using a bit of teeth to draw gasps from Vander

You brought your mouth to his pubic bone. Biting his skin, hard enough to leave marks. And leaving hickeys on his stomach

Loving how your food left some extra pounds on him. Making his tummy all the more squishy and soft

“You’re eating me alive, love—” You giggled on his skin, slowly stroking his spent cock. “Mark your territory, mi loba (my she-wolf).”

“Con placer…” (With pleasure…) You gave his cock a final kiss. Long lasting, a little red bruise at the side of his shaft. Moaning at your work, eyes sparkling up at him

Vander helped you off your knees, and leaned you against his chest. You rested there for a while, calming down for your sex crazed high

“Do you want me to make you a passion fruit mock-tail, darlin’?” Vander rasped, hand soothing the pulse of your throat 

“Yesss please, and with extra—” Vander shushed you with a kiss

“And with extra ice and pineapple pieces. I know, amor (love), I know.” He pecked your forehead

[insomniadreamzz]

Hiiiii! Could you write G!P councilor Sevika x fem reader? Where Sevika comes home to her wife after a council meeting and she is frustrated so reader offers to help her with it and Sevika has her way with reader? Resulting in her getting pregnant.

Thank youuuuu xoxo

Alrightyyy!~ Another G!P Fic

This time Sevika x Fem!Reader

Mentions of G!P, pregnancy, smut

———

You are my world

Sevika just arrived home after the council meeting, not looking very amused as she stomped into the kitchen, making herself a drink and heading to the living room, sitting down on the sofa before taking a sip from her drink and putting the glass down, letting out a annoyed groan.

You heard her being finally home again as you just got out the shower, feeling so happy to see your wife being back home again. „Hey! You’re finally back.“ You cheered happily, walking towards her but her expression made you frown as you sat beside her. „Is something wrong?“ You asked with a tilted head, making her sigh before she answered. „Being a Zauntie member in the council is just frustrating. They don’t really trust me, I get weird looks and-…ugh.“ Sevika groaned, rubbing her face with her hand, you hated seeing her frustrated like that.

„Sevika…give them time. You are the most loyal and kind Zauntie I ever met. You have a heart of gold and they will notice it sooner or later.“ You tried to calm her down, your hand gently caressing her muscular arm, finally she looked at you with a more softer expression and a little smile. „I just know why I made you my wife…you are just so good to me. You don’t know how much you mean to me.“ Sevika responded and you smile brightly before leaning in to press a kiss on her lips. The kiss got returned by her, ending up into a deep and passionate kiss, she really loved you and you loved her.

You soon pull back, both of you catching your breath before you got an idea to make her relax. „You know I do have a idea to get your frustration off…if you like to.“ You said with a teasing voice and Sevika got the message quickly, how could she deny you? She simply couldn’t. „Oh baby I would love that.“ She said with the same lustful voice before picking you up, carrying you to the bedroom.

You moaned softly as Sevika put kisses on your neck, you laying underneath her, being fully exposed to her, you just loved how much affection she shows you, loving and cherishing every inch of your body as she worked her way down to your chest, leaving marks all over your chest and neck so everyone knows you belong to her. She was also fully exposed, her cock rubbing against your wet folds. Your hands are placed on her strong shoulders, whining softly when she started to play with your nipples, arching your back. „Ughh…stop teasing…“ You mumble and she looked up at you with a lustful gaze. „Impatient?“

You just let out a little grunt in response. „Fine fine. I won‘t let my wife wait for longer, after all I am still frustrated and I want to get it all off of me.“ She leaned up as she adjusted herself between your legs, your gaze fixed on her beautiful strong body, your hand moving down along her muscles on her stomach before you let out a moan once she slid inside of you.

„Fuck!…“ You moan out, hands trying to find something to hold onto and they found your pillow, grabbing it tightly as you let Sevika thrust into you. Her size was just perfect for you, filling you completely up and stretching you so good, the first thrusts making you already go crazy. When her hands held your hips you felt a shiver go down your spine because of the feeling of her metal hand on your soft and warm skin. You bit on your lip, trying to hold back your moans.

„Oh no I want to hear those. Don’t you dare holding back.“ She grunted, thrusting harder inside of you and with every thrust, feeling her rubbing your insides and hitting your sweet spot, you moaned louder. „A-Ah! Yes! Yes right there!“ You moaned out, not feeling embarrassed anymore about your lewd moans as the pleasure was taking over, your legs squeezing around Sevika’s hips.

„Damn…that’s right. Give me those sweet sounds of yours.“ Now she was moaning too at the good feeling, filling up the room with lewd sounds of your moaning, whining and the sounds of yours bodies clapping together. You felt close but you didn’t even think about wanting her to stop and pull out like usually.

„C-cum inside me. Please do.“ You begged her and that made Sevika‘s expression softer. „You sure??“ She asked in between her gasps and moans and you nod at her. „Yes. Yes please do. I want it. I want it with you.“ You whined, feeling your orgasm getting closer and your words made her feel even more aroused, Sevika‘s hips now moving almost automatically as she literally rammed her cock inside of you. Making you moan even more lewdly and making you roll your eyes back as you felt a wave of electric shocks through your body, legs shaking as they clenched around her hips. The feeling of your pussy clenching around her cock made her reach her orgasm too, making Sevika moan out and groan as she granted your wish, not pulling out as she came inside of you, filling you with her cum. „Oh fuck! I am cumming“ She moaned out, cock twitching inside of you as she let it all go inside of you, making you feel all warm. She kept on thrusting slowly until she pulled out, watching a little bit of cum getting out of you, she really filled you up with a lot of cum.

After both of you reached your orgasms and calmed down, Sevika laying beside you in bed as she caressed your hair with her human hand. Slowly realising what you just did. „We…are going to be parents.“ She said with a soft whisper and you moved your gaze up to look into your wife’s eyes with a soft and happy eyes. „Yes. That’s all I want. Because you are my world.“ She smiles and you could see her eyes being teary, you didn’t see her being emotional that often but you loved it every time you saw her being soft with you and before she could say anything, she kissed you deeply and passionately. Sometimes actions are more than words and you both were happy to become parents.

[s4kura-tr3]

Could you make a crybaby reader with JJK men? Like just an overly sensitive/nice reader? It’s okay if not! Have a good day!

Sensitive!

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Megumi, Yuji

Gojo Satoru

Gojo Satoru never meant to upset you—he rarely ever did. But today, his usual playful teasing hit you harder than usual.

You were sitting on the couch together, scrolling through your phone while he flipped lazily through the channels on the TV. Out of nowhere, Gojo chuckled and said, “You know, you’re so dramatic sometimes. It’s kinda cute, but it’s like everything’s the end of the world for you.”

You froze, his words hitting a nerve. Dramatic. That’s how people had dismissed your feelings for years. You tried to brush it off, but your chest tightened, and your vision blurred slightly as you blinked back tears.

Gojo didn’t notice at first, still flipping channels and humming to himself. But when you didn’t respond with your usual witty comeback, he glanced over and saw your downturned face.

“Wait,” he said, sitting up immediately. “Did I say something wrong?”

You didn’t answer right away, biting your lip to keep your emotions in check.

“Hey,” he said more gently now, setting the remote down. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Finally, you looked at him, your voice quiet. “You called me dramatic. Do you know how many times I’ve heard that? It’s like every time I feel something, people just… dismiss me.”

Gojo’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “Oh no. No, no, no, that’s not what I meant,” he said, scooting closer to you on the couch. “I wasn’t trying to dismiss you. I swear, I just—ugh, sometimes I don’t think before I speak.”

You didn’t reply, still feeling the sting of his words.

Gojo reached for your hands, holding them in his warm, large ones. “I’m really sorry,” he said softly. “You’re not dramatic. You just feel things deeply, and I love that about you. It’s one of my favorite things about you, actually. You care so much, and that’s rare. Honestly, I wish I was more like you sometimes.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

“I mean it,” he continued. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that wasn’t a good thing. It is. You’re amazing, and I’m lucky you put up with my dumb jokes.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, despite your lingering hurt. “You really think that?”

Gojo grinned, his usual playful energy returning as he kissed your knuckles. “I think you’re perfect. And I’m perfectly terrible at saying things the right way. Forgive me?”

You sighed, the weight in your chest easing. “Okay. But maybe think before you speak next time?”

“Deal,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll even let you pick the movie tonight as a peace offering. But only if it’s not boring.”

You laughed softly, and just like that, Gojo had you smiling again, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close.

Geto Suguru

It was late in the evening, and you and Geto Suguru were sitting together in a cozy café. He had insisted on taking you out to unwind after a long week, and for a while, the warm atmosphere and his gentle company had done just that. But then, the conversation took an unexpected turn.

You were talking about a project you’d been working on—how much effort you’d put into it and how nervous you were about how it would turn out. Somewhere in the middle of your rambling, Geto chuckled softly and said, “You really overthink things sometimes, don’t you?”

His tone was light, and you knew he didn’t mean it maliciously, but the comment stopped you in your tracks. Your heart sank, and your chest tightened as those familiar insecurities reared their heads. You looked down at your tea, your appetite for conversation disappearing.

Geto immediately noticed the shift in your mood. He tilted his head, his dark eyes softening with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, leaning closer.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing,” he said, his voice calm but insistent. “Did I say something wrong?”

You hesitated, but his steady gaze encouraged you to speak. “It’s just… when you said I overthink things. I know I do, okay? I hear it all the time, and I hate that about myself. It feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough, and people just see me as… too much.”

Geto’s expression shifted immediately, a flicker of regret crossing his face. “Hey, no, that’s not what I meant at all,” he said softly, his voice full of sincerity.

You looked away, but he gently reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours. “Listen to me,” he said, his tone warm and steady. “I wasn’t trying to say that in a bad way. I know you overthink because you care. You care so much about everything, and that’s not a flaw—it’s a strength.”

You blinked at him, his words catching you off guard.

“You put your whole heart into what you do, and yeah, sometimes it makes you nervous or unsure, but that’s only because you want things to be perfect,” he continued. “And honestly? That’s one of the things I admire most about you. I could never think of that as a bad thing.”

The tightness in your chest began to ease as his words sank in. “You really mean that?” you asked softly.

Geto smiled gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Of course I do. And I’m sorry if what I said made you feel like I didn’t. I’ll be more careful with my words next time.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you.”

He chuckled softly. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job to remind you how amazing you are when you forget.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and the tension that had settled between you melted away.

“Now,” he said, his tone lightening as he leaned back in his chair, “how about I make it up to you with dessert? I hear they’ve got a mean matcha cheesecake here.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “Fine, but you’re paying.”

“Always,” he said with a playful smirk, raising his hand to call for the waiter.

Nanami Kento

Nanami Kento had had an exhausting day. Every step he took up the stairs to your shared apartment felt heavier than the last, and all he wanted was to come home, see you, and let the warmth of your presence melt away the stress.

When he opened the door, you greeted him with your usual enthusiasm, rushing over to pull him into a tight hug. “Kento! You’re home!” you exclaimed, your excitement practically radiating off you.

He managed a small smile and placed a hand on your back, but the weight of his day still hung over him. “Hi,” he said softly, his voice tired.

You didn’t seem to notice his exhaustion as you began talking a mile a minute. “I missed you! You won’t believe the day I had—oh, and guess what? I tried that recipe you love, and I think it turned out amazing! Oh, and Louis did the funniest thing today—”

“Can you give me a second?” he snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.

The room fell silent, and the warmth in your expression dimmed instantly. You stepped back, your arms falling to your sides. “Oh,” you said softly. “Sorry.”

Nanami immediately felt a pang of regret as he saw the hurt in your eyes. You weren’t upset because he was tired—you were upset because he’d made you feel like your excitement didn’t matter to him.

You turned away, mumbling something about letting him settle in, but he quickly reached out and gently grabbed your hand. “Wait,” he said, his voice softer now.

You hesitated, looking at him but avoiding his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s not your fault I had a hard day. I… I was looking forward to seeing you all day, and then I let my frustration get in the way.”

You blinked, your lips trembling slightly. “I just wanted to make you happy,” you admitted quietly.

“And you do,” he said immediately, stepping closer to you. “You’re the best part of my day. Always.”

Your eyes met his then, searching his face for the truth in his words. His expression was soft, full of remorse and affection.

“I don’t deserve to have you greet me with so much love after the way I acted,” he said, gently pulling you into his arms. “But I promise I’ll do better. You’re everything to me, and I should have treated you like it.”

You rested your forehead against his chest, feeling his arms tighten around you. “I just got too excited,” you murmured.

“And I love that about you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Your excitement, your energy—it’s what makes this place feel like home. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate it like I should’ve.”

For a moment, you stood there in his embrace, his warmth and steady heartbeat easing the lingering hurt.

“Do you want to sit down and tell me about your day?” he asked after a moment, pulling back slightly to look at you. “I want to hear everything.”

You hesitated, then nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face. “Okay. But only if you let me heat up dinner for you first.”

He chuckled softly. “Deal. But don’t rush—just being here with you is enough.”

And as you led him to the table, the weight of his day began to lift, replaced by the comfort of knowing he was home—with you.

Toji fushiguro

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t the type to watch his words. His bluntness was just part of who he was—sharp, quick, and sometimes careless. Most of the time, you brushed it off, knowing he didn’t mean to hurt you. But tonight, it cut deeper than usual.

The two of you were in the kitchen after dinner. You were putting away dishes, humming softly, while Toji leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, watching you.

“I’ve been thinking about trying something new,” you said, your tone excited. “Like a cooking class or maybe painting—something creative. I think it could be fun.”

Toji grunted in response, not looking up from the dish he was drying.

You hesitated but kept going, trying to draw him into the conversation. “What do you think? Would you want to try something like that with me?”

Toji sighed and set the dish down a little too hard, the sound making you flinch. “You don’t stick with stuff like that, do you?” he said, his voice flat. “You get all excited and then drop it a week later. What’s the point?”

You froze, his words hitting harder than you expected. You knew he had a point—sometimes you did lose interest in things quickly. But hearing him say it so bluntly, so dismissively, made your chest tighten.

“I…” Your voice wavered as you set the plate in your hands on the counter. “I just thought it’d be nice to do something together.”

Toji finally looked up, his brows furrowing when he saw the way your shoulders slumped. “Hey, don’t get all upset about it,” he said, his tone softening, but it didn’t help.

“I’m not upset,” you said quickly, though the slight tremble in your voice betrayed you. “I just… never mind.”

You turned away, trying to hide the tears that were already welling up, but Toji wasn’t one to let things go.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter now as he stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled, but when you tried to brush past him, he caught your wrist gently.

“Look at me,” he said firmly, his tone still low but insistent. You hesitated, and when you finally met his gaze, he could see the hurt in your eyes.

“Damn it,” he muttered, his grip on your wrist loosening. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You didn’t have to say it at all,” you whispered. “You make me feel like I’m… not good at anything.”

Toji’s jaw tightened, guilt flashing across his face. He wasn’t good at this—at saying the right things or fixing mistakes—but he hated seeing you like this, especially when he was the one who caused it.

“You’re good at plenty of things,” he said, his tone softer now. “And… I’m an idiot for saying that to you. I wasn’t trying to put you down. I just… I don’t know how to say things without sounding like a jerk sometimes.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he admitted after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “The cooking class or whatever. And I’d do it with you if that’s what you want.”

“You don’t have to just say that,” you murmured.

“I’m not just saying it,” he said, stepping closer until he could wrap his arms around you. “You’re trying to do something fun, and instead of supporting you, I ran my mouth like an idiot. I’m sorry.”

His arms around you were warm and steady, and you could feel the sincerity in the way he held you.

“You’d really go with me?” you asked, your voice still small.

“Yeah,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Even if I suck at it, I’d go. For you.”

Your lips quirked up into a small smile, the sting of his earlier words starting to fade. “Okay,” you said softly, leaning into his chest.

Toji smirked, holding you a little tighter. “Good. But don’t expect me to wear an apron or anything. That’s where I draw the line.”

You laughed, the sound lightening the room, and he sighed in relief, grateful to see your smile again.

Sukuna Ryomen

The Heian era was a time of beauty and chaos, and life with Sukuna Ryomen was no exception. Known as the King of Curses, Sukuna was feared across the land, but to you, he was something else entirely. His presence, though intimidating, had always been a source of strange comfort. However, his sharp tongue often betrayed him, and tonight was one of those nights.

You had spent the entire day crafting something special—a delicate embroidered cloth featuring patterns of crimson and gold, colors you knew he favored. Each stitch was precise, your fingers aching by the time you finished, but the thought of presenting it to Sukuna filled you with anticipation.

When you brought the finished piece to him that evening, you entered his chambers with cautious excitement, kneeling before him as he sat on his throne-like dais. “My lord,” you began softly, holding out the cloth, “I made this for you. I thought you might like it.”

Sukuna’s four crimson eyes flicked to the offering, and for a brief moment, there was silence. Then he spoke, his tone as sharp as ever.

“You spent all day on this?” he said, his voice laced with disdain. “What use do I have for something so… trivial?”

The words hit you harder than you anticipated. You had poured your heart into the gift, hoping to please him, and now your efforts felt meaningless. You lowered your hands, clutching the cloth tightly as your vision blurred with tears you desperately tried to hold back.

“I… I just wanted to give you something,” you murmured, your voice trembling.

Sukuna’s brows furrowed at the shift in your tone. He could sense your emotions as clearly as the tension in the air, and the sight of you so visibly upset stirred something in him—something he wasn’t used to feeling.

“Tch,” he muttered, leaning forward slightly, his gaze fixed on you. “Why are you crying? I didn’t tell you to do something like this.”

You shook your head, your voice breaking. “I know. I just… I thought it would make you happy.”

Sukuna let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t good at this—at softening his edges. But seeing you like this unsettled him in a way that battles and curses never could

“Look at me,” he commanded, his tone firm but quieter now.

Reluctantly, you raised your eyes to meet his. His gaze wasn’t as harsh as before, and for a moment, the room felt less heavy.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “I’m not good with… things like this.” He gestured vaguely at the cloth in your hands. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it.”

Your breath hitched slightly. “You… you do?”

“Yes,” he said, almost impatiently, but his tone lacked its usual edge. “I’m just not someone who knows how to handle… thoughtful gestures. But that doesn’t mean they’re wasted on me.”

You blinked, the sting of his earlier words starting to fade. “I just wanted to give you something that reminded you of… us. Of me.”

Sukuna’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk. “And you think I could forget you?”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and he chuckled lowly, clearly pleased with your reaction. He reached out, taking the cloth from your hands, his fingers brushing yours briefly.

“It’s well-made,” he admitted, running his thumb over the intricate stitching. “Better than I expected.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and Sukuna leaned back, his gaze softening just slightly. “Next time, don’t exhaust yourself for my sake,” he said. “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”

“I just wanted to make you happy,” you said softly, your earlier sadness melting away.

“You do,” he replied, his voice quiet but steady. “Even without this.”

The warmth in his words made your heart ache in the best way, and as he set the cloth aside carefully, you knew that, in his own way, Sukuna was trying.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi Fushiguro was in a foul mood. Gojo had been pestering him all day—constant teasing, unnecessary tasks, and endless comments that pushed his patience to the brink. By the time he walked through the door, his mind was racing, and he felt like he was ready to snap at anything that moved.

You had been waiting for him to come home, your excitement bubbling as you thought about sharing the small surprise you’d planned for him: his favorite snacks arranged neatly on the coffee table and a cozy spot on the couch waiting for him to relax.

When he walked in, you greeted him with a bright smile. “Megumi! Welcome home! I set up—”

“Can you just give me a second?” he snapped, not even looking up as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag with more force than necessary.

You froze, startled by the sharpness of his tone. “Oh… I didn’t mean to bother you,” you said softly, your voice already trembling slightly.

Megumi sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not about you, okay? I just need some space.”

Your chest tightened at his words. He didn’t even glance at the effort you’d put into making his evening better. The snacks, the cozy setup—it all felt meaningless now. “I just wanted to help,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned away, your shoulders slumping.

The sound of your soft, hurt tone stopped Megumi in his tracks. He looked up and finally noticed the care you’d put into the room—the snacks, the cozy setting, and the clear effort to make him feel better. Guilt hit him like a wave.

“Wait,” he said, his voice gentler now as he stepped closer to you. “I… I’m sorry.”

You didn’t turn to face him, your hands nervously fiddling with your sleeves. “It’s fine,” you said, though the crack in your voice betrayed your true feelings.

“It’s not fine,” Megumi said, his tone firm but remorseful. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

You glanced back at him, your eyes glistening. “I was just trying to make you feel better,” you murmured, “but if you don’t want me here, I can—”

“No,” he cut in quickly, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to leave. Please.”

He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “It’s been a rough day, and I let my frustration get the better of me. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You were trying to do something nice for me, and I acted like an idiot.”

You stared at him for a moment, his rare vulnerability catching you off guard. “You mean that?”

“I do,” he said, stepping closer and gently taking your hand. “I see what you did here. It’s thoughtful, and it means a lot to me. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

Your lips trembled as a small smile broke through. “I just wanted you to relax after your day.”

“And I’m lucky to have you,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “Let me make it up to you.”

You hesitated before nodding, letting him guide you to the couch. As the two of you sat together, Megumi reached for one of the snacks you’d prepared, a small but genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“Thank you,” he said softly, glancing at you.

“For what?” you asked, tilting your head.

“For being patient with me,” he said. “And for always knowing how to make things better—even when I don’t deserve it.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned against him, letting the tension of the evening fade away. Megumi might not always get it right, but moments like this reminded you why you loved him so much.

Yuji Itadori

Yuji Itadori wasn’t the type to snap at people—he was always upbeat, kind, and quick to laugh things off. But after a long day of missions, training, and dealing with the stress of being Sukuna’s vessel, he’d finally managed to steal a rare moment of relaxation, engrossed in a video game he’d been trying to beat for weeks.

You, excited to share some news with him, entered the room without realizing how deeply focused he was. “Yuji! Guess what happened today?” you said cheerfully, walking over to him.

“Not now,” he muttered, his eyes glued to the screen, fingers flying across the controller.

You hesitated, unsure if he’d heard you properly. “It’ll only take a second! You won’t believe—”

“I said not now!” he snapped, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard before.

The sudden harshness of his voice made you stop in your tracks. Your excitement vanished, replaced with a sinking feeling in your chest. You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before mumbling, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Your voice was so soft, Yuji almost didn’t catch it. But when he heard the hurt in your tone and turned to see the way your expression had fallen, his stomach twisted with guilt.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean—” he started, but you were already backing away. “I’ll just… leave you alone,” you said quietly, heading toward the door.

Yuji quickly paused the game and jumped to his feet. “Wait! Don’t go!”

You stopped but didn’t turn around, your arms crossed tightly as if trying to protect yourself from the sting of his words.

Yuji rubbed the back of his neck, his face filled with regret. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softer now. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. That was really uncool of me.”

You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I just wanted to tell you something. I didn’t think it would make you so mad…”

“I wasn’t mad at you,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “I was just so caught up in the game, and I got frustrated. But that’s not an excuse. You didn’t deserve that.”

You bit your lip, unsure if you should say anything, and Yuji reached out, gently touching your arm. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “I’m really, really sorry. You’re way more important to me than some stupid game.”

His words made your heart ache in the best way, and you finally turned to face him fully. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, giving you that familiar, boyish grin that made it hard to stay upset. “Tell me what happened today. I want to hear everything.”

“You’re sure? I don’t want to interrupt…” you trailed off.

Yuji shook his head quickly. “Forget the game. I want to spend time with you.”

The sincerity in his voice melted away the last of your hurt, and you let yourself smile again. As you started sharing your story, Yuji sat beside you, listening intently, determined to make up for his mistake.

And when you laughed at one of his playful comments, Yuji silently promised himself to never let a moment like that happen again. You were his safe place, his reason to smile, and no game—or anything else—could ever compare.

[yaniluvs]

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀˳ㅤ ͡꒱ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤSTAY WITH ME ㅤ࿚࿙ㅤㅤ𓉸ㅤ۫ㅤ .

⠀ # : aftercare with your loving boyfriend, after a long night.

𓍯 idolbf!changbin ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ）k ── ༯ HEADCANON, fluff, subdrop, slight implication of bdsm, aftercare, bit suggestive, req. by anon! . ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ and i'm back, i know i said i'd do jeongin ver. next, but an anon sent in a request and i wanted to complete it as soon as i could. i'm really sorry that you had to go through that, really, people like that are shit :(. i know it isn't much but i hope this small drabble makes you feel better. take care, luvie <3 comments, requests, asks likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! comment/ask if you want to be added to my mastertag ! happy reading <3

the soft hum of the air conditioner filled the room, a low backdrop to the stillness of the moment. the hotel suite was dimly lit, the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden glow over the rumpled sheets. changbin lay beside y/n, his body curled protectively around hers. his fingers traced lazy circles on her back as her breathing remained uneven, quiet sniffles betraying the fragile state she was in.

it had been beautiful, passionate, and filled with love, but now the aftereffects had hit her hard. it was something her boyfriend had learned to recognize and understand early on in their relationship, but it never failed to break his heart when she sank into that vulnerable state.

“baby,” he murmured softly, his deep voice laced with worry as he gently brushed strands of hair from her damp forehead. “are you feeling cold? do you need anything?”

her response was barely audible, a shaky whisper that tugged at his chest. “just… stay close.”

“i’m not going anywhere, love,” he assured her, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. “i’ve got you.”

she whimpered softly, her arms instinctively reaching for him, and changbin immediately pulled her closer, his broad chest a solid, comforting presence against her trembling frame. “hey, shh,” he whispered, rubbing her back in slow, soothing motions. “it’s okay, baby. you’re okay. just breathe with me, yeah?”

he guided her through deep breaths, his forehead pressed gently against hers as he matched his rhythm to hers. “in and out, love. just like that. that’s my good girl.”

her shaky breaths began to even out, but tears still brimmed in her eyes. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. “i don’t know why i feel like this.”

“don’t you dare apologize for this,” changbin said firmly but softly, tilting her chin up so she could see the unwavering love in his eyes. “it’s normal, love. your emotions are just catching up, that’s all. you’ve given me so much of yourself—let me take care of you now, okay?”

she nodded hesitantly, and changbin’s heart swelled with both love and protectiveness. “that’s my baby,” he said, leaning in to kiss her nose, then her cheeks. “you’re so precious to me. you know that, right?”

her lips trembled as she nodded again, and he smiled, his dimples peeking out despite the serious concern in his eyes. “good. because i’m not going anywhere. ever. you’re stuck with me, love.”

changbin slipped out of bed with care, tucking the blanket around her before padding to the bathroom. he moved with quiet efficiency, running a warm bubble bath, the soothing scent of lavender filling the room. when he returned, he crouched by the bed, his dark eyes searching hers with gentle concern.

“do you wanna have a warm bubble bath?” he asked, his voice low and inviting. “i’ve prepare everything for you.”

she nodded, the faintest trace of a smile pulling at her lips. “yeah… that sounds nice.”

“okay, baby. let’s go.” he helped her sit up, his hands steadying her trembling frame. “take it slow, love. no rush.”

the bathroom was cozy and inviting, steam curling around the air as changbin guided her to the edge of the tub. he helped her undress with the utmost care, his touches tender and nonintrusive. “tell me if it’s too hot,” he said, testing the water before helping her step in.

she sank into the bubbles with a sigh, her tense shoulders finally relaxing. changbin knelt beside the tub, a small smile on his lips as he reached for a soft washcloth. “just let me take care of you,” he murmured, his tone filled with love.

he washed her gently, his hands moving in soothing strokes as he hummed a quiet tune. occasionally, he leaned in to press kisses to her damp skin—a silent reassurance that she was his whole world. “you’re so strong, baby. so perfect. i’m so lucky to have you.”

tears welled in her eyes again, but this time they were different—less about the overwhelming drop and more about the sheer tenderness he gave her.

“i’m here, love,” he said, his hand pausing to cradle her cheek. “always.”

after finishing, he leaned back on his heels and grinned softly. “you know what i love most about bubble baths?” he asked, playfully flicking a bit of foam onto her nose.

“what?” she murmured, her lips curving slightly despite herself.

“getting to spoil you,” he replied, his dimples on full display. “you deserve to feel like a queen, every single day.”

once she was clean and the water began to cool, he wrapped her in a plush towel, drying her with the same care. “let’s get you comfortable,” he said, leading her back to the bed where fresh sheets awaited. he helped her into one of his oversized shirts before tucking her in, joining her moments later.

“come here,” he murmured, opening his arms. she curled into his chest, her head resting over his heart. his fingers danced along her spine in slow, rhythmic motions.

“you’re my everything, y/n,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. “i don’t ever want you to feel alone, okay? i’ll always be here for you.”

her voice was barely above a whisper, but he caught the words. “i love you.”

his hold tightened, his lips brushing over her forehead. “i love you more, baby. so much.”

she hummed softly, and he kissed her forehead again, then her cheeks, her nose, her lips—anywhere he could reach. “i’ve got you, love. you’re safe. always.”

as the tension drained from her body, her breaths grew steadier. changbin began to hum, his deep voice soft and soothing as he sang one of her favorite songs. it wasn’t long before her eyes fluttered shut, her hand clutching the fabric of his shirt.

he stayed awake a little longer, watching over her with a protective gaze, his heart full. “sleep well, my love,” he murmured, pressing one last kiss to her temple before finally allowing himself to rest.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily thank you luvie <3

[revelboo]

after the holidays, my friend and I are going back downtown, buying a couple Blokees each, and having a lil get together where we assemble them

you did this. you made me go broke.

<3

But they’re just little guys 😆 18+ 🌶️

Gravity Pt 11

Optimus x Reader

• Rolling onto his side, he hooks an arm around you and pulls you back into him. Palm flattening against you, finding the beat of your heart as he relaxes again. At the back of his processor, there’s concern over what he’d done that he’s going to have to deal with. Worry about what the rest of the Autobots will think about this. About what he’s done with you. There’s no regret, but there’s going to be consequences. If nothing else, dealing with the fallout from the others figuring out this is a possibility. “Should have guessed you were a cuddler,” you say, voice sleepy. If you don’t want to be held, you keep it to yourself at least.

• Blissfully boneless, you idly play with the servos of the hand splayed possessively on you. “We should discuss what happened,” he says, that deep voice so serious. And he’s a worrier, too, apparently. Ready to ruin the afterglow by overthinking it. Wiggling your hips back against him where his big frame is curled around you, he makes a deep rumbling noise in response. Especially when you pull his hand down and urge him to cup you. Feel him vent raggedly against you to stir your hair as his servos get on board with your plan and stroke you.

• “What happened was amazing,” you say, voice husky as you hold his hand where you want it and move against him, undulating against his hand and his spike as it stirs. “Doesn’t need to be anything deeper than sex.” Knows you’re right, but those words still hurt. Clearly drawing a line that he desperately wants to cross. Warning him that you don’t want more from him. Just this. And he could play along, let you warm his berth and let it be as simple as that, but it’s not what he wants. Wants you to talk to him, open up and share with him. Wants to know your secrets and you. Wants so much more than just a warm, willing body under his.

• “It could be, though. More.” That deep voice rumbles through you as he spears a servo inside you, stroking deep. Hips moving against you, his spike rubbing against you to tease you both. “It could mean something.” And it’s sweet, the big guy a hopeless, but utterly unrealistic, romantic. Where does he really think this can go? White picket fences and kids? Even if he was human, you’d accepted a long time ago that those dreams aren’t meant for people like you. That they can only hurt you. So no. Your body he can have, your heart isn’t up for grabs.

• Gripping his wrist as he strokes you with a servo, you toss your head back against him. Can hear your breathing change, those soft little hitching moans. “I don’t need anything but this.” Those words cut him, all jagged edges biting into his spark. Denying him. Pressing his face against the back of your neck as you rock yourself against his servos, he lets that ache hollow him out. Because if this is all of you allowed him, he’ll take it even if it kills him. You don’t have to love him, don’t even have to care for him beyond your need to find pleasure in his arms. He’ll still hold you, try to coax you and maybe eventually it might be more. Has to believe that or he can’t stand it. To believe you might grow to care about him even if it’s not for a long time.

Previous

[wandering-pirate]

Mouthwashing Characters Headcanons

The Crew's Love Language ft. You

Captain Curly

Words of Affirmation

The captain is well-known for having his vocabulary overflowing with encouraging and uplifting words, a stellar reputation for giving good pep talks

Deep inside, he always loved hearing words of praise from the people he cared about the most. He always valued the affirmations from them, a foolproof method to make him smile and feel loved

For him, words are like fire, and people can either use them to warm someone up or burn a whole damn city

He never raises his voice at you when it comes to negative emotions, never when he's angry, frustrated, or panicked

He, however, is so enthusiastic when congratulating you or when he's excited about the topic you're both talking about

Your heart (and belly) can't help but feel very warm with the way he uses his words with his deep tone. If a kid asked you how a space superhero would sound, you'd bring Curly forward

With his effort to stay optimistic, you always make sure to tell him an encouraging word or sweet strands of praise whenever you see him and after he does something

"Captain, remember to stay hydrated, you're doing great, sir."

"You always know how to put the crew at ease, Cap. Appreciate it"

"You're so reliable, gosh, thank you!"

Every praise and affirmation you throw his way makes him blush and stutter, a polar opposite to his status

You make it a duty to compliment him sincerely. The hunk of a man ends up having a red face every time he receives your sweet words to the point that the crew teases him for it

"Cap, what's red and stutters?"

"I swear, Jimm--"

"Oh, oh! I know!"

"Come on, Daisuke, not you to--"

"You, after talkin' to Y/N."

The captain, co-pilot, and intern stared at Swansea’s retreating back after he butted into a conversation that the mechanic would find ridiculous even being a part of

You also made sure to never—I MEAN NEVER—use words against him, especially with secrets or information that he exclusively told you about (probably the reason why you and Jimmy ended the Captain's birthday party with knives at each other's throats)

Mechanic Swansea

Acts of Service

The old man was raised in a household where serving your family is the ultimate display of love

His father scoffed after reaching the last part of young Swansea's greeting in the Christmas card he gave him:

"I love you? Boy, you can't even make a decent cut on that firewood from a while ago"

"I love you's" are just empty words for him. When you really want to reach into his head and hammer some sense of what you feel about him, you gotta show it

However, unlike his father, he doesn't need a grand display of actions to know and notice. He actually prefers the little things you do:

Remembering his coffee preference and making it every morning

Giving him a massage in the area his hands seem to knead frequently

Putting his socks on before work

Giving him a pedicure (after leveraging that he'd eat you in bed for the whole night)

He also holds himself up to the same standard, always doing chores around the house whenever you're busy:

No stocks of pads and tampons? He'll make sure he gets the right brand you always get

Your favorite furniture that you inherited needs varnishin'? He's on it.

Your daughter's birthday is coming up, but you're too ill to make the cake? He ain't a baker, but he'd be damned if he won't at least try

"Daddd, is this... is this meat... on my birthday cake?"

"S'called 'cake of love' for a reason, darlin'. You don't question its ingredients. It's made of love"

What makes your heart flutter is not having to tell him all the things that need to be done. He knows what's lacking and what you need

When there are times you have to vocalize your concerns, he'll simply nod, and after a moment, it's done

Co-pilot Jimmy

Physical Touch

*Sighs* Need I say more?

Jimmy is the type who’s not comfortable with PDA, but he can't seem to keep his hands off of you when he feels threatened, (especially when Curly is having a casual conversation with you)

You can't blame the guy; he doesn't even understand how you fell for him somehow, but he's not complaining, and he most definitely will not let you go (possessive boi is a touchy boi)

His touches are not always sensual, and it actually surprises you how gentle he is when holding you

Whenever you're busy, he'd pass by to squeeze your waist or brush a touch on your lower back

When you're both around each other but are doing different tasks, he'd make sure to have a part of you touching him:

A hand on the thigh

A leg over your thighs

His head on your chest or shoulder or thighs (the boy's got magnets on your thighs, what can I say?)

And his personal favorite: having you sit between his legs with your back pressed against his chest.

One time, a frustrated Curly called you. It's been a week since Jimmy left for his job-training, and you weren't aware that someone was also getting through a torturous week like you and Jimmy

The captain was at the other end of his friend's damp mood

"I don't know what you do to him, Y/N. He's a completely different person when he's with you"

"Hmm, how bout massaging his hand, cap. It improves his mood, and it always works"

"..."

"Hello? Curly?"

"...Y/N, are you trying to get me killed? It works because you're the one doing it!"

Intern Daisuke

Quality Time and Giving Gifts

The boy loves spending time with you. He doesn't need to plan for what to do during those times you'd be together because he always finds ways to make you enjoy it so much that you have to keep a wristwatch to check how much time has passed

He's known to be a yapper but not the type of yapper that tires you

The man has a lot of questions for you to the point that you're concerned that he knows more information about yourself than you

Pointing out things he notices you do, like looking slightly at the right when you're lying or knowing how many moles are in your face and neck

It doesn't creep you out though, you picked up that he's very observant when he's interested and that flatters you that he take mental notes of these small things just by being around him

Whenever he knows that you won't be seeing him for a while, he makes sure that you know what he'll be doing and where he'll go

Basically the main reason when the crew - especially Swansea - would look for him, they'll go straight to you

"Hey kid, where's that boy again?"

"Toilet, Swansea. He said it's a raging diarr--"

"Yeah yeah, toilet's fine. geez."

Daisuke also buys you trinkets he finds that remind him of you—from crocheted baby mushrooms to obscure plastic eyeball keychains

"I understood the frog keychain last week, but... a turd plushie?"

"Cause I feel shitty when we're apart"

"Valid"

His gifts are very specific and you even cried one time in a store trying to outgift him, spoiler, you can't. He never makes you feel bad about it, he always claimed that he takes pride at being the Leslie Knope of the real world (iykyk)

Nurse Anya

Quality Time

She strongly believes that spending time with someone is the core of a relationship

She definitely isn’t the person to be clingy - nope, she's a queen with self-worth. If you don't want to spend time with her, don't expect her to chase you

The more you spend time with her, though, the more she opens up. For her, trust is something earned over time, and you made the effort to build that trust brick by brick

After falling for her harder, your trips to the medbay became more frequent with "accidental injuries"

"Hey, miss Anya."

"Hey y/n, kindly be careful. Don’t want you to have your 4th visit this week."

"Heh, what can I say? I hate breaking the streak. Gotta keep you on your toes."

"Y/N, it’s still Wednesday."

"Good time to give you your once-a-week training, right?"

Once she’s comfortable with you, her affection shows in the little things:

Putting your vitamins and supplements on accessible places because she knows you forget taking them

Giving you random psychology tests after finding our that you loved them

Or being comfortable enough to nap on your shoulders (you earned that trust on the hundred and tenth day)

You don't even have to talk while being together; as long as both of you are around each other, her shoulders relax, and her face is at peace

[mmaybanks]

❝ a pogue christmas ❞ — jj maybank

𓇼 pairing: bsf!jj x reader

𓇼 summary: the pogues are celebrating christmas and jj decides to risk ruining it all for a simple mistletoe kiss

𓇼 warning(s): fluff, kissing, suggestive/sexual comments and jokes, mentions of abuse/bad family, soft jj, suggestive (?) ending

𓇼 a/n: i blurred the girl’s face in the photo because idk who it is and i don’t want anyone getting confused😭 also its almost christmas and this story is kinda based on a joke i have with a friend!! ALSO this is my first post and im nervous so be nice pls😞

𓇼 wc: ≈ 2.5k

masterlist

it was the week before christmas, and now that the pogues offically had a house of their own, you were the most excited to decorate. sadly, it would have to be done after some begging.

"please, jay. i know you wanna." you sing out, disrupting the previously peaceful silence. the groans of all the pogues were heard. "y/n, why do you wan'to decorate so bad? it's not your first christmas." john b asked. he wasn't opposed to it, but neither was sarah, or pope, or kiara, or cleo. it really was just jj, and for the others, the fact that it took effort contributed.

"can i not enjoy something?" you sighed feigning disappointment, "fine, i'll just decorate all alone, risk my falling to my death, or breaking my back from the heav–"

"god damn, woman. c'mon, let's go get you a tree and some lights." jj abruptly cut you off. you turned back to him with wide eyes, from surprise, but also guilt. he didn't look happy to do it. sarah stifled a laugh from the interaction, watching as two of her best friends stared. "it's fine jj–we don't have to. no one else wants to."

he rolled his eyes, but stood from the couch. when you just stared at him, he sighed loudly. "let's go." he ordered. you let out a quiet squeal, hopping off the couch and to your room, where you grabbed a pair of sneakers to wear out.

the night was spent decorating a newly bought christmas tree, hanging lights throughout the house, and drinking hot cocoa.

after a long few hours, it was nearing midnight. the rest of the pogues were off to 'sleep', while jj stayed up with you. you were still trying to decorate, still having ideas–just no longer the energy to keep doing them.

"c'mere." jj mumbled from his spot on the couch. you look back at him over your shoulder, seeing his eyes closed. you took the opportunity to let your vision linger on his arm and shoulder muscles, sure he wouldn't notice. "y'know if you came over you could get a better look, maybe cop a feel." he smirked, tease evident in his tone.

"maybe i was just worried about your temperature, think of that?" you weakly defended against the accurate allegations. "mhm." his voice so weak and rough, but maintaining the playfulness. god, can you blame a girl?

you took a few small strides to the edge of the couch, lowering yourself into his warm embrace. the moment you were in his arms he held on tight. you tried not to focus on how close your bodies were, so close you could feel his breath against your shoulder. goosebumps spread across your bare legs, clad only in small shorts with a christmas pattern.

"i think if anyone's wearin' a concerning amount of clothes, it's you." he whispered, tapping his icy cold fingers against your legs. "i'm fine like this." you lied impulsively. there was no reason, no need, but you hated him to be right about every part of you.

"right, no yeah, of course baby." he played along, the nickname sliding off his tongue too easy. you could feel your heart beat a bit faster, but your breathing slowed against his. "yeah well, these are also the only christmas pajamas i have, so." he hummed in agreement. maybe just to assure you he heard, maybe just to assure himself he was awake.

"can i ask you something?" you paused, once again getting a hum in place for a response. "and you answer honestly." at the suddenly serious tone, he opened his eyes.

he gently pushed up onto his elbows, looking down at you. he stared, trying to memorize every feature he could while he could. he loved being this close to you, being able to see every detail possible. every pore, every color in your eyes–if they were open. all of you. it wasn't until you opened your eyes a few seconds later he realized he hadn't responded.

"yeah. 'course. complete and total honesty." he assured, strong eye contact held since your eyes opened. "yeah." you echoed in a mindless mutter.

you snapped back into your mind after a split moment, your eyes finding the ceiling suddenly very interesting. "um, so why–why didn't you want to decorate? for christmas."

you noticed his jaw clench and unclench before he opened his mouth to speak. it was shut just as quickly, and you could see him searching for the right words to say. "i jus' uh, didn't ever have any good memories with it, y'know? growin' up poor, with a shitty father, not really fun."

oh. "mh, yeah, 'm sorry. i guess i never thought of it like that." he sighed, looking down to his fingers tapping against your side. "no biggie." he forced a laugh, almost sounding genuine, but the sad undertones shown through.

"well, y'know what that means?" you couldn't hide the smile that threatened to show on your face, but part of you didn't want to. it kept the atmosphere not too heavy. "what's that?"

"y'gotta make good new memories." he smiled at your optimism. "thanks for today. it means a lot."

instead of a verbal response, he just settled down comfortably, wrapping his arms around you closer.

the following week was spent with a lot of talk of christmas. you were determined to make good memories of christmas for jj–making gingerbread houses, binging christmas movies, baking regular cookies, everything you could think of. so focused on that, you had yet to notice the simple decoration above the doorframe of the kitchen and living room that you didn't add.

it was christmas eve, another night where the pogues had all already went to bed. to your knowledge, all of them had.

earlier you had all decided against gifts, which was understandable. even after el dorado, you didn't have infinite money to spend. but, you had saved up just enough for christmas presents for everyone. nothing too extravagant or expensive, but small things with meaning to them.

each and every present had a story or inside meaning with the person it was for. jj's gift was a handmade bracelet you made for yourself a few months ago that jj would always point out. you tried to give it to him multiple times but he would always refuse.

"what'cha got there?" a loud whisper called out, causing your soul to practically leave your body. "jesus, jj. what are you doing awake?"

his body shook with a laugh against the doorframe he was leaning against. "nuh-uh, i asked a question first."

you sighed, "mm, jus' a few itty-bitty presents." you smiled like you had just been caught doing something bad, which to be fair, you were doing something you said you wouldn't. "mhm, i thought we weren't doing presents?"

"it's a . . . christmas miracle?" you retorted, sounding too much like a question. "okay, look. i got you all presents but they were before that and it was all cheap. promise."

his eyes softened at your guilty voice. clearing this throat, he walked over and sat beside you on the ground. your shoulders were touching, as were your knees, and it made you wonder if he felt as nauseous with nerves as you did.

"'s okay. i won't tell." he leaned closer, a playful fire in his eyes, his tone playful as always. "promise." he repeated back to you. a moment of silence passed before he spoke again. "so what'd you get me?"

you rolled your eyes and scoffed, feigning annoyance. "you can't wait 5 hours?" he shook his head 'no', a grin exposing himself.

"nope." he looked away from you, at the pile of presents on the floor. he shoved his shoulder on yours before standing up, looking at you expectantly, stretching his arms in a way that had you drooling.

he didn't say another word, but you felt like you were supposed to follow him. you did, but you were so focused on his shoulders, the soft lighting from the tree lights really highlighting each ridge of his muscles, that you hadn't noticed his sudden stop.

you ran right into his back, now in shock and very confused.

"huh." he spoke, looking at your eyes and up, back and forth, before continuing. "would you look at that." he acted amused, like it was a coincidence.

but under that facade, his palms were sweaty, his heart was pounding fast and hard–feeling like it was going to explode out of his chest. he couldn't help but have a million thoughts running through his head all at once, wondering how this would go. he hoped all of the stolen glances meant to you what they had always meant to him.

you looked up after he had done it twice, now realizing what he was talking about. you could feel your cheeks warm, your heartbeat in your neck, but all you could really focus on was jj.

the bright blue eyes you had learned to lose yourself in, the lips you longed for, him in his entirety. the jj you had fallen in love with. that same jj, wanted to kiss you.

you felt like you couldn't breath. what if this was just him making another flirty joke to you? but with the way he looked at you in this moment, there was no way, his eyes were flickering between your eyes and your lips. they got stuck on your lips repeatedly. he wanted to feel them on his, wanted to taste you, if even only for a moment.

"rules are rules, right?" he whispered, his hands slowly inching to grab your waist. his thumbs rubbed up and down on the now exposed skin, the flimsy cropped shirt doing nothing to cover the goosebumps spread on your entire body.

a weak, "yeah." was all you could manage to get out, all other sounds caught deep in your throat. "yeah?" he echoed, silently begging for confirmation that you wanted this and this was actually happening. he needed to know this wasn't another dream.

"mhm. rules, y'know. pope would kill us if we didn't follow the rules." at your small joke he let out a huffy-laugh, shaking his head, trying to wipe the smile off his own face.

the moment of comfortable laughter was replaced quickly, the air feeling thicker by the second. one of his hands moved from your waist to your face, the other traveling lower to your hip. he gave it a slight squeeze as he tilted your head up.

the anticipation was killing you, but in the best way imaginable. you pushed forward, your lips finally meeting his in a desperate, but delicate kiss. the type of kiss that showed how much he wanted to kiss you, how long he's been waiting, how much he's holding back. the delicacy surprised you, you thought it would be a more heated kiss, but jj was scared of spilling his all into it and ruining it completely.

somewhere in the back of his mind, he worried that this wasn't a good way to confess, but he remembered the reason thats how he did it. john b had somehow convinced him that if you didnt like him back, he could play it off as 'usual jj flirting', but now he wasn't sure he could.

you gripped the back of his shirt, pulling him closer. his hand migrated again to your lower back, using the placement to press your body further into his. the warmth of your cuddled bodies, and in his chest, made up for the winter weather and the lack of clothing on your bodies.

you could feel his tongue poke your bottom lip ever so slightly, almost like he wasn't ready. at that thought, you could feel your lips form a smile but you were unable stop it, breaking the kiss. "wow." you breathed out. "pretty good, right?"

you forced a nod out, ignoring the underlying tone of humor in his question. you couldn't help yourself from giggling, both at your reactions and at the excitement from finally being able to kiss him. "what're ya laughing at?"

"you." he raised an eyebrow, pointing to himself. "you just kissed me." you smiled.

"christmas miracle, amirite?" you smiled to yourself, pulling him closer to hide your face in his chest. "shut up." you mumbled into his shirt. "baby, i got you in my arms right now, it's gotta be some typa miracle."

"oh yeah? this can't be just because i want to?" you teased, pulling back. the shit-eating grin on your face morphed into something a lot softer when you noticed jj's body subconsciously rock closer to you. "nah, you wouldn't."

"no?" you asked, pressing your lips into his again, and again, and again. the kisses slowly became more and more natural as you did. "nope. no way."

"jj." he paused his movement to continue, looking you straight in the eye. "yeah?"

you hesitated for a second, and jj could tell what was coming next, so he began his long awaited confession.  "i like you. like, a lot. i mean, fuck, i love you. i can't, i just, don't know–"

"i love you too jay." you cut him off, knowing he was just going to spiral. "you're so cute, oh my god." you squeal after his dimples pop into his cheeks. he pushes your hand away from his cheeks, trying to avoid you noticing his flush.

"'m not cute. just, c'mere." he whispered to not break the comfortable bubble surrounding you two. he reached in for a hug, swooping his arms under yours, wrapping around your chest loosely. your arms raised to around his neck, inching your face closer again. he buried his head into the crevice of your neck, breathing you in.

"and why would i do that?" you giggled to yourself, enjoying the act of confusion and innocence. "i love you."

his suddenly serious confession caught you off guard, catching your breath in seconds. you kissed the top of his head, squeezing your arms tighter. from behind you, he could see the clock turn to midnight. "best christmas ever."

"yeah?" you asked, relief and happiness overflowing your senses. "mhm." he gently kissed you again, swiftly picking you up. out of reflex, you wrapped your legs around his torso. "jj, if you drop me i swear—"

"relax, baby. i won’t drop you." he giggled in your neck. he laid your down against the couch, letting himself lay comfortably between your legs. he rested his head on your shoulder, giving one more peck to your cheek. his fingers gripped onto your plush thighs, not planning on moving anywhere, just to hold. his lips began a descent down your neck, gentle enough to feel but not leave marks. "can it be christmas more often?"

"how ’bout we leave the mistletoe up, that way you can man up and kiss me everyday." he nodded. as he cuddled closer, his nose brushed your neck, small laughter erupting from it tickling you. "how ’bout, everyday, no mistletoe needed?" he whispered.

"works for me." you giggled out, his mouth kissing for any skin in sight. his affections sent shivers down your spine, the soft rub on your legs causing you to let out a soft sigh. he smirked at the noise escaping your lips, capturing yours and his again in a more heated and messy way this time.

"c'mon guys, not on the couch."

[misswynters]

Perfume

featuring. au! claggor x reader

requested by anon

Claggor was never shy about his affection towards you, even when surrounded by the crew. You were used to his small gestures of love, a hand resting on the small of your back, a quick kiss pressed to your temple, or his arm draped casually over your shoulders. But today, he seemed bolder than usual, and you couldn’t help but feel the heat creep up your neck as his hand reached for yours, tugging you closer.

“Come here,” he whispered, his voice low. The others were lounging around in the hideout, deep in their conversation about their next scheme, but Claggor was entirely focused on you. Before you could process his intentions, he gently guided you to sit on his lap, his strong hands steadying you as he pulled you into place on his thigh.

You gave him a playful glare, glancing nervously at the others. “Claggor, they’re going to see.”

He shrugged, a cheeky grin tugging at his lips. “Let ‘em,” he said simply, his fingers resting lightly on your upper thigh. “I’m comfortable. You?”

Despite your hesitation, you settled into him, leaning back slightly against his chest. His free hand found its way to your hip, his thumb rubbing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. His warmth was comforting, and you could feel the scent of grime and metal on his skin as it mingled faintly with the perfume you’d dabbed on your wrists earlier.

“Smells like you’ve been busy again,” he remarked, his breath warm against the shell of your ear.

You smiled, tilting your head slightly to give him a better view of the small glass vial tucked in the pocket of your apron. “I’ve been experimenting with lavender and citrus this time. Thought I’d make something light and fresh.”

Claggor chuckled, his voice rumbling pleasantly against your back. “Fresh, huh? Always smell good to me, sweet thing.”

His lips brushed the back of your shoulder, soft and lingering, and you felt your breath hitch. It wasn’t unusual for him to be affectionate, but something about his actions today left you flustered. His hand tightened slightly on your hip, pulling you closer against him as he buried his nose into the curve of your neck.

“This smell is driving me crazy, y'know that?” he murmured, his voice low and laced with a teasing edge.

Your cheeks flushed, and you tried to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “Do I? Seems like you’re the one causing all the trouble right now.”

Claggor chuckled softly, his lips brushing against your neck as he spoke. “Not my fault, you smell so damn good. I can’t help it.”

You could feel the heat rising to your face, and you playfully swatted at his hand resting on your thigh. “Claggor, they’re right there.”

“They’re not paying attention,” he said with a shrug, though his grin betrayed just how much he enjoyed riling you up. “And if they are, let ‘em be jealous.”

Despite your protests, you found yourself melting against him, comforted by his steady presence. His hand slid just slightly higher on your thigh, his fingers warm against your skin. It wasn’t scandalous, not really, but there was something about the possessive way he held you that made your heart race.

“You should bottle this,” he said suddenly, breaking the moment with a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Bottle what?” you asked, turning your head slightly to catch his gaze.

“The way you smell,” he replied, his grin softening into something sweeter. “I’d carry it around with me everywhere. Not that I’d ever need to. You’re always here.”

The sincerity in his words took you by surprise, and you felt a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the way his hands rested on you. You turned slightly, brushing your fingers against his cheek. Claggor leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was tender. It wasn’t demanding though. Just a sweet, lingering kiss that left you breathless.

The others finally seemed to take notice, with one of them clearing their throat loudly. “Oi, lovebirds! Save it for later,” Vi teased, though the amusement in her voice was clear.

You quickly pulled away, embarrassed, but Claggor just laughed, keeping his arm firmly around your waist. “Don’t mind us,” he called back, entirely unbothered by the interruption.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you leaned back against him. Despite the teasing and the audience, there was nowhere else you’d rather be. And as Claggor pressed another soft kiss to your shoulder, you knew he felt the same.

taglist. @writingwisterias @diffusebread @ekkosh

[wisecura]

Sweeter

SatoSugu x f!Reader p.1 - 4k (technically SFW, but the next chapter not so much)

summary: entering high school only to be met with the two hottest strongest sorcerers of your generation was not something you were prepared for. so, what happens when they take a strange liking to their cute, sheltered underclassman?

an: thank you for this request! I've definitely dabbled in this concept before, and I have plans to do another similar to this but a lot meaner. I really like the color orange.

MINORS DNI AFTER HERE warnings: pwp (lots of plot, lots of porn), small age gap (first year and third years - no sex between minors), arranged marriage, poly relationship, possessive undertones, manipulative undertones, manipulative, some gaslighting, immature (sheltered) reader,

and a part 2?

“What kind of man is your type?” 

You stare in stunned silence, the question barely registering in your head. Seriously, it was just your second day at Jujutsu Tech, and here you were, face-to-face with possibly the two hottest guys you'd ever laid eyes on. 

And they're clearly having some kind of fun with the newbie. Is this some sort of unofficial welcome ritual for underclassmen or just plain old hazing?

That's one hell of a question to drop on someone, especially since, if you really had to choose, your type would probably be a perfect mix of the two heartthrobs standing in front of you. I mean, come on, they were drop-dead gorgeous—definitely not the type you’d expect to bump into in a high school corridor. They looked more like they'd walked off a fashion shoot or something.

"Yo—" You choked on your words, and you quickly turned your head, feeling your cheeks warm up with a shy blush.

“Uhm…my kind of man? I like someone who’s strong...and, uhm…hot.”

The white-haired one hummed thoughtfully, sharing a quick glance with Mr. Manbun. His eyes were the bluest you'd ever seen, flashing even behind his glasses. And the other's eyes—were they actually purple? Is that even a natural eye color?

Their silent exchange felt like an entire conversation, and somehow, it encouraged you to keep going.

"I-I mean like muscular? Wait no—more like, a lifelong partner? Someone who can take care of me—a good listener, y’know?"

As you rambled on, you could feel your cheeks burning up, and you shuffled your feet, unable to stand still. They both chuckled at your nervousness, catching you off guard—and then, they finally introduced themselves.

"I'm Satoru Gojo," said one with a wink that sent your heart racing.

"And I'm Suguru Geto," added the other, his voice so deep that you found yourself looking away.

They didn't explain the earlier questioning, but whatever test they had in mind, you must've passed with flying colors. From that day on, Satoru and Suguru seemed to appear just about everywhere you went.

You hadn't expected to see them much after that initial interaction, but they seemed to show up in the weirdest places. You’d see them walking in the hallways, despite their classes being across the school, near vending machines that you frequented, and even by the park you sat at with your classmates. 

And soon enough, they started 'accidentally' stumbling into your classes, drawing exasperated sighs from your teachers as they casually plopped down on either side of you. Interjecting themselves into the conversations you had, placing themselves into every facet of your life–present in every second of your free time. You couldn’t even feign surprise when they began showing up at your training sessions, taking a special interest in your improvements as a sorcerer. 

"Need a sparring partner?" Satoru flashed an easy grin as he slung an arm casually across your shoulders–another new development you noticed since they began seeing you more often: the touches. Suguru was never far behind, within fingers' length. Inches away, never as touchy as Satoru, but he had his moments. Whether it was both Satoru and Suguru together or just one of them, you could always expect not to be alone. 

And after asking around–hearing the whispers from those around you, you learned that Satoru and Suguru were the strongest in the school. It wasn't just impressive—it was downright intimidating. Satoru, in particular, was regarded as the strongest of his generation, a reputation that added an extra layer of awe—and pressure—to your interactions. 

You, hailing from a small, conservatively raised clan, couldn’t help but feel like you were playing in an entirely different league.

Before coming to school, your knowledge of cursed techniques was minimal at best. Your clan, lacking the wealth and influence of the more prominent families, hadn’t provided much in the way of advanced training. In fact, the notion of attending an actual school, rather than being homeschooled like many others in your clan, took everyone by surprise—especially you.

In your clan, the rules for girls were pretty clear-cut: get married and start having kids as soon as you hit eighteen. The cultural expectations had always hovered over you like a predetermined fate, yet you'd begged and begged anyways. And here you were—after many threats to refuse marriage, to run away, threatening to do the most drastic things—finally at school.

That to say, your clan wasn't much for affectionate and loving gestures. You'd never known close friendships, and you had no clue how to interact with the two. Yet despite this, Satoru and Suguru were ridiculously warm and almost overly affectionate towards you. They weren't just friendly; they took it to another level—constantly teasing you, never enough to push you away–just enough to make you flush red and smack an arm or two. 

They were like your personal bodyguards, stepping in to shield you from what they thought were unfair missions, always keeping an eye out during your training sessions or interactions with the higher ups. They even went as far as syncing their schedules with yours—just so they could be there for you whenever you needed.They always made sure to include you in their conversations, valued your opinions, and weren't shy about asking plenty of personal questions, drawing you into their circle so effortlessly–it felt like you'd always been a part of the duo. And despite the gap in experience and power, they never made you feel lesser, or spoke down to you.

When it came to physical affection, they never shied away from it–hugs quickly became the norm—just another part of your daily interactions. Almost as frequent as the lingering touches that seemed to pop up out of nowhere, the casual sharing of food and drinks, and those silly moments when they’d playfully feed you a bite of their lunch or coax you into sitting on their laps, arms wrapped around your waist. 

And honestly, you didn’t mind their presence much. Despite the constant teasing, the constant presence in your life, and the overt clinginess, you really couldn't compare it with anything else–so you chalked it down to normal. Growing up in a clan that wasn’t big on hugs and kisses, you kind of assumed their touchy-feely behavior was just how friends acted, so you didn’t make a big deal about it—even when they would get really close, snuggling into the crook of your neck, or planting small pecks in random places. Normal. This was normal. 

And it worked that way for a while... It wasn’t until some of your classmates pointed out how odd it seemed that you were so close to the untouchable duo. How they hadn't shown much interest in anyone else, and from afar it looked more like they were caring for a well groomed pet than a  friend. 

You tried to fit in, not wanting to be seen as the odd one out by your classmates, and as you grew more self-conscious, you did start to pull back a bit. But the more you retreated, the more pushy they became–your dynamic so intertwined with your everyday life, it was like pulling teeth.

You found yourself constantly dodging the snacks they pushed toward your mouth, slipping out from under the arms they kept throwing around your shoulders. You even started keeping details about your life more guarded, trying to maintain some personal space. Despite your best efforts to distance yourself, Satoru and Suguru had grown too attached, finally deciding to confront you about your newfound evasiveness when they couldn’t take it anymore.

As you once again shrugged off another arm from your shoulder, Satoru and Suguru halted, turning to you with a look of concern. "What’s up with you lately? You seem really tense. Is something bothering you?"

Satoru’s voice carried the softness of genuine concern, but there was a deliberate persistence behind his words. Probing, searching. Suguru joined in, his tone echoing Satoru's worry, yet there was a subtle tint to sound teasing, not wanting to ruin the good mood. "You’ve been pretty distant lately. It’s not like you. You're not feeling left out, are you?"

As you tried to put more space between you and them, voicing that you just didn't feel good, Satoru pulled you slightly closer, his grip firm, as if to physically manifest a will for you to stop pulling away. "Look, if something’s wrong, you should tell us. We’re your friends, we’re here for you. 

And this is what finally led to you opening up about the comments your friends were making, but now Satoru and Suguru were visibly upset. You knew Satoru well enough to expect his dramatic flair—he was always the louder, more expressive one. But Suguru? His irritation was something you hadn't seen before. 

"They’re saying what now? So, your little 'friends' are harassing you? Is that it?" Suguru’s voice was icy, his eyebrows knitting together in a rare show of displeasure. You couldn’t picture the words coming from his lips, but here they were. 

“Hmpf” a puzzled look crossing your face, “I wouldn’t say harassed, just—“ 

“Oh c’mon, princess, you don’t need to defend them,” Satoru interjected quickly, pulling you close, settling you into his lap with a swift motion. You stumbled slightly but found stability as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, losing the desire to really pull back. 

"You know, we're just looking out for you," Satoru continued, his voice softening, rubbing his chin over your head like an overgrown cat. "People can get the wrong idea, but they don't understand how close we are."

Suguru nodded, "Exactly. It’s normal for us, right? This is how we've always been with each other. They just aren't part of our circle, are they?"

After that conversation, you hardly heard a peep from anyone else about your friendship with the two. The only difference in your relationship between you three, seemed to be the fact that the two became even more relentlessly clingy. 

They began popping up on your dual missions,  offering help so you could 'finish up faster,' only to whisk you away for yet another impromptu bakery date.  Picking up things from their missions, using the money they had to buy you expensive presents, always ensuring you took care of yourself. They spoiled you rotten,and really, you couldn’t find it in your heart to be annoyed—they were just so committed to keeping you safe and well-fed. And If they said your friendship was normal, then who should you believe?

They were super protective, almost to a fault. No one else was really allowed to hang with your little crew without getting some serious side-eye or a snappy comment from them. It felt like they saw everyone else as the enemy, but when it came to you, they couldn’t be sweeter. Their teasing tone only got more flirty and affectionate by the day.

The touches become more firm, no longer small or lingering, but firm and almost commanding. A clear message to the people around you, yet you never really paid attention.

You tried to give back what they gave, not wanting to be a bad friend or seem distant. And they only seemed to encourage it—sometimes pulling your wrist over to feed them, playfully licking your finger. They leaned into your head pats, one would always nudge you closer to the other, both soaking up your warmth. Even Suguru seemed more affectionate, somewhat taking after Satoru. Their hugs became even tighter, pulling you in close to inhale your scent from your neck, sending small shivers down your neck.

You sort of felt bad. Here were your friends, interacting how they normally would, and here you were–developing these…feelings. Inappropriate thoughts that you refused to share. They interacted as affectionately to each other as they did with you–so you knew for a fact they were not having the same thoughts as you. So you ignore it. Hoping it'll go away.  

By the time you rolled into your second year, you really started to get a handle on the social hierarchy. Jujutsu Society was just as stiff and formal as your own family, something you hadn't fully grasped until Satoru started pointing out its many flaws. He was the heir to the Gojo clan, and he was constantly venting about how he was being pressured to take over next year—a role he was definitely not excited about. 

He'd go on and on about how they were always on his case, trying to push him this way and that. But given his reputation as the strongest around—it was pretty clear that Satoru wasn't the type to be pushed into anything he didn’t want to do.

Your two best friends were about to finish high school, and the looming thought of their departure was a tough pill to swallow. You’d grown incredibly close, digging deep into each other’s lives, and the mere thought of saying goodbye felt like a punch to the gut. They reassured you, of course, promising that you’d always stay in touch. But deep down, you knew better. 

Your family's strict rules meant the only real freedom you had was at school. And if they weren't coming back to school, the chances of seeing them after you graduated were slim to none, especially with the looming prospect of your arranged marriage hanging over your head.

And when they finally did leave, you tried to keep up with your usual routine, but it just wasn’t the same without them around. Sure, your phone buzzed with texts from them, and you were all active in your group chat, but real updates on their lives came in dribs and drabs. You missed them terribly.

Every summer break after they graduated, they’d send you invites to hang out, but with your super conservative family keeping tight reins, you could never make it out of the estate. It was incredibly frustrating, feeling trapped while imagining your friends out there, having a blast and probably moving on without you.

And by your fourth year, whispers about your upcoming marriage began circulating around the clan house, causing bouts of panic and desperation creeping up in you. Suffice to say, you were far from thrilled with the idea. Dreaming of becoming a full-fledged sorcerer, going out on missions, and making a difference, you had bigger plans than just settling down as a homemaker for some clan member you hardly knew. 

Yet, family tradition cast a long shadow over your life, always nudging you towards doing what was expected, not what you desired. The thought of just following along without making your own choices really got to you, but what choice did you really have?

Then, out of nowhere, that fateful day crashed upon you. 

Your mother burst into your room, her eyes alight with a mix of glee and anticipation, an expression so foreign to her usually stoic demeanor. She was practically skipping as she waved an envelope in the air, her excitement out of place in the somber and bleak context that was  your life at the moment.

"The Gojo clan! We’ve received a letter from the Gojo clan. Your marriage has officially been arranged!" she squealed, a sound so uncharacteristic it almost didn't seem real.

You stood there, shell-shocked, as her words reverberated through the sparsely decorated confines of your room. This couldn't be right. There must be some mistake, or perhaps it was another Gojo clan, not the Gojo that you knew all too well. Couldn't be. 

As you mulled over her announcement, your thoughts were a jumbled mess of confusion and disbelief, and as if the universe itself had scripted the moment, your phone lit up. You glanced down, heart skipping a beat. "Gojo Satoru" flashed across the screen, dragging you back into a harsh reality. 

A message from him now? It seemed like some cruel cosmic joke was unfolding right before your eyes.

The day you were to meet the Gojo clan finally arrived, with the sun shining brightly, its cheerfulness almost mocking the storm of emotions roiling inside you. 

Dressed to the nines at your mother's behest, each step toward the Gojo clan estate felt unbearably heavy. A sense of foreboding gnawed at you—details about your future husband were alarmingly sparse. 

Your attempts to glean more information had been futile. Satoru's responses over the last week were disturbingly evasive, skillfully sidestepping your questions. And surprisingly, Suguru hadn’t mentioned anything either, which was odd considering how close you had all become. The silence from both him and Satoru not only heightened your anxiety but also stirred a mix of suspicion and unease. 

 You'd think your marriage would strike some kind of reaction from the two. Not even a congratulations was sent–not that you wanted one. It begged the question. Were they intentionally keeping something from you? Did they know something you didn't? 

As you approached the grand entrance of the Gojo estate, your heart thudded painfully in your chest. The overwhelming anxiety about your unclear future was one thing, but a deeper sense of betrayal cut even more sharply. 

Stepping through the towering doors of the Gojo residence, you were immediately struck by the opulence that greeted you. 

The extravagance of the foyer, with its traditional/modern vibe and gleaming wooden floors, was a stark contrast to the modest, basic estate you had grown up in. You entered the room with your head down, following closely behind your mother, just as you were taught. Today was the day you were supposed to meet the man you were going to marry. 

Your mom led the way to a low-rise table, sitting to your left, your dad taking a quiet seat to your right. The room was filled with the sound of impatient fingers drumming on the table, which nudged you to sneak a cautious glance upward to the source of the noise.

There, dressed in his ceremonial blue robes, sat Satoru, his presence alone enough to make your heart skip a beat. You hadn't seen him in months, barely heard a peep from him, yet here he was. In all his handsome glory. It didn't really hit you until he leaned in, casually throwing out with a sly smirk, “Is this my new pretty little wife?” He was obviously playing, but boy, did those words land with a thud.

Your father, completely oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside you, beamed with unabashed pride. He quickly jumped in with introductions, puffing out his chest as he announced, “This is my daughter,” as though marrying you off to the Gojos was his crowning achievement. You noticed a few other clan members–likely from the Gojo clan, chatting away with your parents. 

As you sat there, trying to make sense of how rapidly your life was pivoting, the room seemed to spin. Everyone around you—your family, the Gojos—seemed ecstatic about the arrangement. Yet, you felt as if you were observing the scene from outside your own body, detached and overwhelmed.

Satoru's behavior, once so familiar and easy, now felt oddly formal, adding to the surreal nature to the whole affair. He was professional, stern, yet friendly. And despite the formalities, he seemed to pick up on your discomfort. Leaning in slightly, he lowered his voice, a genuine note creeping in as he asked, “So, what do you think?” His eyes, intense and searching, met yours across the chatter-filled table. It was a subtle gesture, but it was enough to show he was at least aware of the shock you were experiencing.

Finding words felt like navigating a minefield, caught as you were between your family's expectations and the bizarre reality of potentially marrying someone you actually knew—as a friend. Upsetting him. Upsetting your family. "It's... a lot to take in," you managed to whisper back, your voice barely audible.

Satoru nodded, his usual smirk softening into a more empathetic smile, a hand finding yours form across the table, going unnoticed. "We'll figure this out,” his tone was almost promising. The dynamic hanging heavy between the two of you, as your mind filled with every question under the sun. 

Around you, the discussion continued unabated, your parents and the Gojos merrily planning away, oblivious to the subtle exchange between you and Satoru. Talk of wedding dates, ceremonial specifics, and the merging of two influential clans dominated the conversation, each phrase further solidifying the daunting reality of your situation.

As you listened, a part of you wanted to rebel, to shout that you weren’t just some pawn in a clan alliance. Yet, another part of you understood the importance of this union, not just for you but for everyone involved. The conflict left you feeling torn, unsure of whether to follow your heart or fulfill the role that had been chosen for you.

As the meeting wrapped up, Satoru stood and extended a hand to help you up, your parents smiling beside you, nudging you to follow. "Let's take a walk," he suggested with a gentle nod toward the gardens. "We need to talk, just the two of us."

Relieved to step away from the oppressive atmosphere of the meeting, you took Satoru's hand, letting him guide you out into the soothing fresh air. As you walked beside him, the gardens of the Gojo estate offered a serene backdrop to the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind. Here, away from the prying eyes and ears, you wanted to ask him. 

Why? What was going on? Why was he extending an offer to your family for your hand in marriage?

As soon as you were out of sight, hidden by the lush greenery of the Gojo estate's gardens, Satoru's demeanor changed. He quickly pulled you into a hug, his grip firm, unrelenting, as if a man deprived of oxygen, and a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "I missed you," he said, his voice a blend of jest and something you couldn’t quite place—was it relief?

The sudden closeness startled you, ramping up the anxiety already swirling inside you. “Satoru, why are you doing this? What would Suguru think?” you blurted out, your voice tinged with panic. You weren’t sure why exactly Suguru sprang to mind, but memories of recent texts in your group chat flickered through your thoughts. Was he in on Satoru’s plans? Did he support this unexpected turn in your relationship dynamic? Did he even know?—

Satoru pulled back slightly, his gaze narrowing into a frown that bordered on annoyance—a look you had never seen directed at you. “This was both of our ideas,” he revealed nonchalantly, as if the joint decision should ease your mind. His casual dismissal of your concerns stung, and his next words cut even deeper, tone boarding on mean. “What? Would you rather have another man marry you?”

His question stopped you cold. Was this really all for your benefit? Or was there something else at play here? Why the harsh tone? Was he upset? 

Taking a deep breath, you tried to gather your thoughts. The idea of marrying someone you didn't know at all, someone outside of this circle you’d grown to trust—even if it was in a bizarre, unconventional way—seemed far worse. “No,” you finally said, your voice soft but certain. “I guess you’re better than someone else.”

Satoru’s face softened at your acceptance, never releasing his hold on you. He melted into you, hands clenching at your sides, “We thought so too,” he murmured, the word ‘we’ making you catch your breath—the implication clear as day. This was planned, and this was for you. But it sounded almost like he was trying to reassure both himself and you. “Look, I know this is all kind of weird, and it’s happening fast, but Suguru and I—we’ve got you. We’re not going to let anything bad happen.”

His words did settle some of your fears, and you relaxed into him. They were familiar, and you knew Satoru pretty well, and despite the strangeness of their proposal, you couldn't imagine being in this situation with anyone else. Maybe it would be alright?

“Let’s figure this out together, okay?” Satoru’s voice now held a sincerity that pierced through the remaining doubts. “Just give us a chance to make this work. For all of us.”

As you nodded, still processing the whirlwind of emotions, you realized that this might just be your best option. 

Hand in hand, you walked back to the house with Satoru. The discussions that followed were a blur, and before long, a date for the marriage was set.

and a part 2?

come home, this one has a second home

[inthemiddleofmae]

everything is romantic - paul mescal x reader

summary - you and paul take a trip to italy during the summer. lots of photo-taking and kissing.

word count: 761

a/n: everybody say thank to pedro pascal for these photos that have got me going absolutely feral!!!!!!!! it is absolutely freezing where i’m from and seasonal depression is getting to me so i’m writing something about summer to make me happy :) and thank you so much for the love on my last fic it means the world <3 i hope you enjoy this one just as much!!

the air smelt of salt and wild rosemary as you and paul walked down a narrow cobblestone street in the amalfi coast, hands locked together in a tight, loving embrace. paul had his beloved camera round his neck; a gift you had gotten him when you first started dating.

the sun was dipping low in the sky, casting a golden glow that seemed to warm everything it touched. the distant sound of waves crashing against the rocky shore played like a lullaby in the background.

“this doesn’t feel real,” you said, your voice tinged with awe as you glanced up at the laundry fluttering on balconies.

paul looked over at you, a loving smile playing on his lips. “you’ve said that every ten minutes since we got here.”

“well, it still doesn’t!” you shot back, bumping his shoulder lightly. “it's unlike anything i've ever seen before. how am i supposed to stop talking about it?”

he laughed, gently letting go of your hand so he could grab your waist and pull you even closer as you both wandered down the uneven path. “i like it when you ramble. means you’re happy.”

you felt your face suddenly get hot. “i'm not just happy. i’m...i don’t know. full.” you gestured around. “this place, this trip, being here with you - it’s everything.”

paul stopped walking and turned to face you, his blue eyes warm and soft as they searched your face. “you’re everything.” he said, and you swore you could actually feel your heart swell.

you wrapped your hands around paul's neck as he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a passionate series of pecks and one longer kiss that you both fought for control over. as you both realised your very public environment, you pulled back. you couldn’t help but smile as you rested your forehead against his.

“alright, lover boy,” you teased, though your voice was thick with affection. you stepped away from him and paused in front of a charming doorway painted a faded blue with potted geraniums clustered at its base. with a pout and a few bats of your eyelashes, you then said, "can you take a picture of me?"

rolling his eyes but unable to suppress his smile, paul raised the camera and pointed it at you.

you leaned against the blue door, tilting your head slightly as you brushed your hair back. paul snapped a few shots, then lowered the camera, his expression softening.

“alright, one more,” he said. “but don’t pose this time.”

“i wasn’t posing!”

“you definitely were,” he teased, lifting the camera again. “just laugh or something.”

you huffed a laugh at his instructions, and in that moment, he took a photo that he would never forget; your head was tilted back slightly, sunlight was on your face, and your eyes crinkled with happiness - he was unsure if he'd ever seen you look so beautiful.

when you realised paul had stopped taking photos and was now staring intensely at his camera, you ran forward and playfully smacked his arm. “let me see, babe.”

paul handed over the camera with a grin. as you scrolled through the pictures, you smile widened. “okay, these are actually really good. you’re getting better.”

“fuck off,” he said with a laugh, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

the two of you walked further down the street, but after a while decided to pause on a set of wide, sun-warmed stone steps to take a break from wandering. paul was in front of you, resting his elbows on his knees as he scrolled through his phone.

without a word, you picked up paul's camera that was still in your possession and adjusted the lens. the light hit him just right, illuminating the soft lines of his roman profile, his hair ruffled slightly from the breeze. you snapped a photo, then another, the sound of the shutter drawing his attention.

paul tilted his head at you and laughed. “you’re supposed to be taking pictures of the scenery, not me.”

“you’re part of the scenery,” you said cheekily, snapping another.

"alright give me back my camera - i'm starving, lets get some lunch." paul said, playfully snatching his camera out of your hand as he rose from his seat. he placed the camera back around his neck as he gave you his hand to help you rise from your own seat.

"you're my lunch, too,' you said, bringing your lips close to paul's ear once you had gotten up, and you watched his face turn pink.

[singmyaubade]

neeeeeedd finals themed x reader fics rn but i cant find ANYTHINGGGG i just need my fav boys to comfort me while im on my grindset 😞😞😞

hiii! i was a little late to see this request, but i still wanted to write it! hope your finals went super well and that you’re enjoying the break! great work <33

bf!poly!marauders x gf!female!reader

summary: OWL's was truly getting to you but your favorite boys always know how to comfort you.

warnings: pure fluff: kissing, cutesy stuff, just teasing tension

--

OWL's was starting to feel like an understatement.

The late nights, the constant ignoring of everything around you, never quite living in the moment… yeah, understatement doesn’t even begin to cover it.

But getting perfect marks wasn’t a want, it was a need.

If you wanted to be an Auror, if you wanted Dumbledore’s reference—passing OWLs with flying colors wasn’t optional. It was a must.

And, unfortunately, everyone else around you seemed to be paying for it.

James had been trying to get you to play Quidditch with him for three days straight. He even promised to buy you that dress you’d been eyeing during your last trip to Hogsmeade. You appreciated the effort but didn't cave.

Not long after, Sirius had tried his own tactic—convincing you to go skinny-dipping in the Black Lake. He even tried to seduce you.

It was worse than James' attempt if you were being honest.

Then Remus—who was usually the one to encourage studying—tried to get you to let him read to you, just so you could get some sleep.

And you wanted to. You really did. But you couldn’t afford distractions—not with the potions section of your notes still untouched.

So, they gave you space. Finally. Or so you thought.

“Hi, my love,” Remus murmured, massaging your shoulders, pulling you from your thoughts. You grinned and leaned up to kiss him.

“Hello,” you chirped, your focus still on scribbling notes.

“Still working hard?” He asked, but his voice was light, full of warmth.

You hummed, nodding in agreement. “Well, I have a surprise for you,” He said, his tone suddenly more serious.

You didn’t really register what he said at first, still lost in your notes. But then, without warning, he gently turned you toward him.

“Darling, I need you to step away from your quill and paper for just a second,” He said, his gaze soft but earnest. You frowned.

“But Remmy, I really need to finish this,” You protested.

He gave you a playful yet exhausted look. “I swear, it’ll still be here. I just want you to see something.”

You sighed and reluctantly set the quill down, giving your notes one last sad look before following him as he gently took your hand and led you out of the library.

“What is this surprise?” You asked, your impatience creeping into your voice.

“You’ll see, my love,” He replied with a soft smile.

“But I really need to study,” You rambled. “Professor Turner is going to mark me down if I mess up the measurements for the ingredients. You know how picky she is.”

Remus chuckled, stopping to look at you with tender amusement. “I swear on Merlin’s beard, you’ll pass. You just need to stop stressing about it so much.”

His hands cupped your face, and he kissed your forehead, making you smile despite yourself.

Soon, you found yourself in the outdoor grassy area, where you could see James and Sirius bickering about something. Remus led you over to a picnic blanket where the two were sitting.

“What’s going on here?” You asked, looking between them.

“Well…” James began, standing up and making his way toward you. “We thought you could use a little stress reliever after all that studying.”

He took your hands in his. “And we wanted to do something nice for you,” He added, a playful glint in his eyes.

You grinned. “Thank you guys,” You said, feeling your heart warm at their thoughtfulness.

“We had to, love,” Sirius chimed in, looking at you with a teasing smirk. “We were worried your pretty little brain was going to overload.”

You giggled and sat down on the blanket next to Remus. The scent of fresh blueberry muffins wafted up, making your stomach rumble.

“I never knew you guys could bake,” You said, eyeing the spread laid out in front of you.

James grinned proudly. “Well, we all make great bakers,” he said. “Remus has precision, I’ve got my luck, and Sirius…”

“Hey! I was moral support!” Sirius interjected, pushing James lightly.

You laughed, glancing at Remus. “This is really sweet. Thank you.”

“Of course, my love,” Remus said, leaning in to kiss you softly. “We’d do anything for you. And we both know you’ll pass, because you’re brilliant.”

“Yeah, that brain of yours would outsmart all of us,” Sirius said, shaking his head with a grin.

“And, uh, I did come up with the idea for the basket,” James interrupted, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I think I deserve a kiss for that.”

You giggled, leaning over to give him a quick peck.

“I suggested we have it outside,” Sirius added, looking pleased with himself.

You laughed again before giving him a peck as well.

Remus smiled at you lovingly, his hand resting on your knee. “I’m just glad you’re here with us,” He said quietly.

“Well,” You said with a cheeky grin, “I think it’s time for some skinny dipping. Maybe a bit of Quidditch? And, oh, a bedtime story?”

The boys’ eyes all lit up. Sirius’ grin grew mischievous.

“You had me at skinny dipping,” He said with a wink.

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 9 - Death

summary : maybe it is time for reader to move on from patterns that are now useless and reconsider things

content warnings : some angst, then some comfort, then more angst, then more comfort, some crude language an mentions of harassment

word count : 6.1k

author's note : okay i think i might write my old bg3 requests still sitting in my inbox after this but!!!! im excited to write the next chap

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world <3

masterlist : here

taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt

You had spent your Saturday recovering, not without frustration. It was a waste of time, you thought. You could have taken advantage of a day without any classes or work like that to study and make more progress, but Selene had come to visit you, worried.

She officially met Sky, who had always admired her since her first lessons with her. Selene had come to your bedside, placing a gentle hand on your forehead for a moment, then letting it slide down to your warm cheek. She sighed, familiar with your overworking habits.

She asked Sky about your night, about the prescribed treatment, and Selene couldn't help but exchange a knowing glance with you when Viktor was mentioned, especially for such chivalrous deeds. She smiled a playful ‘see, I told you so’ which made you pull your cover over your head in annoyance.

When she left, Sky came back to you, bringing you a chicken broth to restore your health, which she hoped you'd consume to the last drop.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this and calling them, calling him. But..." She sighed, watching you finally eat something with relief. "You were working yourself to death, and with such a pace, you probably wouldn't have been able to pass the exams at all if you'd kept going."

You swallowed your mouthful with difficulty, a small knot of shame and regret tightening it. You'd been so obsessed, so fixated on outdoing yourself and winning back your number one spot from Viktor that you'd become nothing more than an information-gobbling machine.

You didn't even need it, you'd just decided to get ahead on the next year's syllabus in the hope of impressing in the papers and showing your dedication. How could you be so stupid? 

"Your state was deteriorating visibly..." Sky reflected, looking down at her hands before only meeting your gaze for a moment. "You really scared me, you know."

Your heart split in two. You placed your lunch tray on your bedside table, taking Sky's hands in yours and seeking her gaze despite her bowed head.

"Hey," you murmured in your tired voice as you smiled softly at her when she looked back at you. "You did the right thing, Sky. Without you..." you sighed, thinking back on your stupidity, "I don't know where I'd be right now. This was going to eat me alive until there would be nothing left of me but a white chalk outline on my desk."

She smiled softly, squeezing your hands. Her eyes glistened, her chin trembling slightly as she took off her glasses.

"Oh, Sky..." You pulled her into your arms, holding her close. "I'm sorry."

You couldn't imagine how tired she must have been, seeing you wasting away like that, not listening to her, not hearing her. She had her own revisions, her own things to do, and you had made your problem hers.

You could feel her forehead wrinkling, her hands trembling slightly around you as she twitched.

Since when did you become such an important part of someone's life that they cared that much about you?

What would have happened if, for one more year, you'd never had a flatmate? And if that flatmate hadn't been Sky, would she have had even an ounce of patience like your friend?

You'd fucked up and nearly gone off the deep end, and Sky had done everything she could to avoid it.

"I promise you to never do that again," you vowed, pulling away from her to run your thumb over her cheek and wipe away the tears. "Please, don't cry on me. Cry on... I don't know, Heimerdinger's hairstylist."

Don't cry for me, I'm not worth a waste of tears, not yours.

She laughed nervously, her eyes going to the ceiling. "I don't know why I'm crying, really, this is..." she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, "this is stupid."

"No, it's not," you smiled, "It's good to cry."

She raised her eyebrows, wiggling her nose and shrugging. "Well, you never do."

"That's because I sold my lacrimal glands," you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood by joking.

And it worked - she laughed, the sadness slowly evaporating from her face. "So you have no tears, but you still have your heart, right ?"

You closed your fist, banging it against your chest. "It's a dusty engine, but it does its work."

"Well," she stood up, "I hope it can still feel something."

You observed her for a moment, picking up a saucepan and filling it with water. No doubt to make coffee, or at least tea to ward off your addiction and prevent your mechanical heart from overheating under the caffeine. No amount of Piltovian gold could offer you anything like Sky's sweetness.

"My heart's full of room for the very few friends I have." You picked up your bowl of broth again, its warmth cupped against your fingers. "Its aorta is named after you."

She turned to you, smiling, her eyes filling again with tears as she breathed in. 

"You can't just say things like that and not expect me to ruin a box of these," she described movements in the air with her hands in ridiculous, exagerated swirls, "silk-soft tissues they have here."

"Their toilet paper is so thick and soft it feels like we're using pillows," you sneered before blowing on the bouillon.

"Right?!" Sky exclaimed, "It's only been like, a month and a half since I've been here and it all feels so fancy. Everything is so... clean."

"I know!" You laughed, "It's infuriating. The streets barely have a scratch, the buildings have colours straight out of a kid's colouring book, and they have trees."

She sighed, visualising the vegetation the city had before her eyes fell back on yours. "You never get used to it, right?"

You swallowed your mouthful of broth, pressing your lips into a thin line. "Never."

She leaned back against the worktop, watching you for a moment. "Seriously though." She tilted her head to one side. "Don't ever do that again."

You smiled, bringing your forefinger and thumb to your ear and pressing on the lobe. 

It was a custom in Zaun to pledge your word. In the Undercity, you pressed your lobe as if you were piercing it, to imaginatively seal in the skin a ring other than the one on your finger. However, everyone knows that if you pull too hard on a piercing, you can tear the flesh, and find it difficult to retie the skin so that it can be pierced again. So the promise was made with a symbolic ring, anchored in the skin, that the promise would be kept.

"May my flesh tear apart if, by misfortune, I betrayed," you recited.

During the rest of the last week of classes before the exams, you resumed a much more normal revision routine than the original, much to Sky's delight. You'd revise with her in the afternoons outside class, asking each other questions about the subjects you shared while you were trying not to die laughing from the stupid ways you looked with your facemasks during skincare time.

When Friday came around, you decided to go to the library again. Unconsciously, it had become a ritual. With Viktor or without, you intended to surround yourself with knowledge as immense as possible.

You went and sat down at a table, alone, while many students who had come for the same reason were already crowding most of the available ones. You took out your things, rereading your index cards for the umpteenth time until you were almost ready to recite them by heart if the need arose.

You couldn't help but lose concentration when you heard your name spoken in the distance, coming from voices that weren’t familiar to you, further behind your back.

"And to say Viktor got put with her on Heimerdinger's subject," one said, chuckling.

"I wonder which of them pulls their hair out more in each other's company."

You tried not to think about it, but since, for once, the conversation wasn't all about the walking street lamp, you couldn't help but let your ears hang close to their mouths.

"Did you see her the other day? A vision of the apocalypse. Hollow cheeks and dead eyes like she hadn't eaten in a month."

"Gotta have hollow cheeks to suck the teachers better," her classmate sneered.

Your jaw tightened, trying to ignore their remarks. This wasn't your first time hearing such things - the previous two years hadn't been as gentle as this one, even if Viktor had caused a few problems with his arrival.

"Can you believe what she did to Tyler?"

"She's an animal." They both laughed, causing you to sink back into your chair.

"How do you think Viktor handles her?"

"He doesn't, she's just a handicap to him and he seems to have an embarrassing enough one as it is."

You inhaled. Someone will probably tell them to be quiet so as not to disturb the peace of the library. You hoped.

"Who's a handicap?"

Your eyes widened as you suddenly turned around. Viktor was standing there, facing them, both students suddenly looking very confused and ashamed.

"Viktor," one of them laughed nervously, "this was just a joke, she..."

But the student didn't have time to come up with an excuse. Viktor raised an eyebrow before speaking.

"She's an incredible person who no one can defeat," he informed them, the latter two lowering their eyes on their notes suddenly invested in their revisions. "Except me."

He punctuated his sentence, turning away from them and meeting your gaze. He seemed surprised, not expecting to find you there, at least not doing nothing when such needlessly cruel nonsense was uttered in your name.

Inevitably, of course, he moved towards you.

Except me.  The phrase made you roll your eyes for a moment before you tried to read information from your notes that hadn't needed reading for a long time. 

He sat down opposite you, keeping his hand on the pommel of his cane. "Your name seems to be on everyone's lips, Miss."

"What can I say," you sighed, "the obsession they have for me is an undying addiction."

However, Viktor didn't seem amused at all.

"Why do you let them say such things about you without lifting a finger?"

You bit the inside of your lip, feeling the pressure of his gaze on you as your eyes scanned uselessly over your revision sheets. 

"It's not the first time I've heard that kind of comment about me," you confirmed without much interest, "I'll survive it."

"So you spend most of your time worrying about the injustices other people experience but you push your own under a doormat?" Viktor summed up, not seeming genuinely thrilled at the idea.

"If I could push the injustice that Tyler is by his very existence off the face of this world, I'd be stepping on some rich blonde aristocrat every time I left and returned from home."

But Viktor still wasn't laughing, far from it. When your eyes finally met his, they were dark.

He sighed. "Are you trying to punish yourself for something by neglecting yourself so much?"

I'd like to forget more than anything else in the world. The thought was taking over your soul, eating away at you like a gangrene with an insatiable hunger.

"Of course," you chuckled, exaggerating a falsely happy tone.

"Stop this." His tone was firm.

"Stop what?" you questioned.

"Trying to make something funny out of this."

You frowned, raising an eyebrow. "What? You're not feeling in the mood for our ritual chit chats?"

"Do I look like I'm joking around right now?"

His eyes had the same gleam, carried the same weight as when he'd held you in place in your bed just a week ago. You almost gulped, speechless. Why was he reacting like that? Why was he worried about you?

You lowered your eyes, licking your lips as you returned to your notes.

"Fine," you admitted, dropping your sarcastic tone. "I guess I owe you for saving my life, anyway."

It didn't sound like it, but it was probably the closest you'd come to a ‘thank you’ for him so far. He seemed surprised that you were finally cooperating in the conversation, that you were at last sending him a very subliminal magic word.

His shoulders slumped, as if the idea of being angry with you was stupid.

"How are you feeling?" He finally asked.

"I'm no longer sick, if that's the question you meant to ask."

"It was, but also," he brought his cane up between his legs, clasping both hands on the pommel as he came to rest his chin on it, "I just wanted to know how you are doing."

Why are you doing this? You were thinking back over the last few weeks. His questions during the power cut, the attention he'd paid to you, staying awake all night by your side to make sure you were taking your medication properly, and now...

"Well," you swallowed, these thoughts unsettling you for a moment and sending a foreign warmth into your belly, "the exams are approaching and I think you've had quite the close look on their effect on me so... yeah."

He considered you, tilting his head to the side until his cheek was the one pressed against the back of his hands. He scanned you, his gaze sending a warm wind up your spine.

"You're still on the treatment, right?"

The horrible powder you had to mix in a glass at least twice a day wasn't the moment you were looking forward to most in your daily routine, but you did it anyway, under Sky's sharp eyes.

You remained silent, just to see how Viktor would react and whether, as he had dictated, he would make sure you stayed in bed no matter what.

Faced with your silence, he raised an eyebrow as he straightened up, finally wrinkling his forehead as he frowned.

"Right?" he repeated, almost menacingly.

"Relax." A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Yes, I'm taking it."

He sighed in relief at the news, while you shook your head in confusion.

"You're putting all this effort... for me? Why"

The phrase sounded alien in your mouth, as if you weren't worth the time or energy of such dedication. He gazed at you for a moment, his eyes roving over your index cards.

"You know why."

"Because you can't have your best rival go against you while she's sick?" you recited.

"Because I don't want to be your rival."

You found this answer profoundly absurd.

"What do you mean-" But he cut you off, annoyed.

"What do you want, hmm? To become Heimerdinger's assistant?"

Of course, you thought, but the way Viktor had said it sounded... easy, too easy. Or at least, too easy for you.

"I don't intend to be his assistant, and I'm going to tell you why."

He stood up, walking around the table until he was beside you and leaning in slightly.

"Because I've already been his assistant, and I stopped."

The words echoed inside you, like the cracking of something you thought was indestructible. Your lips parted in shock, watching him with huge eyes as he straightened up.

"In any case. I wanted to make sure that you'd be back in good shape." He began to walk towards the library exit, turning one last time to give you a playful look. "And now that I'm sure you'll be in full shape, I know I don't need to hold back, hm, rival?"

He turned away, heading for the big door, leaving you with a short-circuited brain. What did he mean by "already been"? What did he mean he had stopped? How had Viktor ever been Heimerdinger's assistant?

When the sentence finally reached your mind after a long travel from your ears, you gathered your things in a flash as the questions began to fly and you almost ran to catch up with him. You caught up with him in the corridors, under the astonished gazes of all the students.

"What?" you asked, out of breath from the sudden exertion and the gust of wind the news had knocked from your chest.

He turned to you, slightly surprised that you'd practically chased after him. He'd probably expected you to sit at your table, mulling things over until the questions got too much for you and you decided to come and see him after a day or two of mental torment.

"You've been Heimerdinger's assistant?" you repeated, adjusting the strap of your satchel on your shoulder.

He shrugged, turning away from you. "Yes."

Was he really just going to leave like that? Leaving you in agony for answers you wanted more than anything? No, it wasn't going to be like that.

You grabbed his wrist, much to his surprise, and pulled him with you into an empty adjoining corridor. Once you were out of sight, checking from one end of the corridor to the other to see if anyone was there, you finally regained his gaze.

There was something in his eyes, like a hint of something that kept his lips parted until they closed and his eyes lowered to your hand still gripping his wrist.

You let go, the heat of shame spreading across your neck and cheeks for a moment as you took a step away, crossing your arms over your chest.

"When were you his assistant?"

He leaned against the wall, sighing as he stared at you.

"You do remember Jayce's trial, don't you?"

How could you forget? You hadn't been present at the trial. Selene had invited you to come as it concerned your friend, but you were too afraid of the aristocratic eyes and the pressure they would put on you.

The story remained vague. Due to special circumstances that remained under the security and secrecy of the administration as to the extent of Jayce's activities, he had been allowed to stay at the academy.

"Yes."

"By then, I had already been Heimerdinger’s assistant for a month.."

You now were certain you'd never seen him before. It was just one month into your summer holidays, and you had gone to Zaun to find Eris. Your chances of running into him were almost nil, no doubt about it.

"How did you get to become his assistant?" you quizzed.

He shrugged, and that simple movement made you want to scream. "I suppose he must have liked my assiduity enough to take me on. That and the fact that, with his little legs, I was bound to walk at his pace," he joked.

You held your breath in your lungs for a moment, before releasing it. He didn't seem to be lying, at least about the only serious part of his sentence. He was undoubtedly the best choice for Heimerdinger in any case.

However, it seemed to you that it wasn't so much exasperation that you were feeling - you were trying to understand what the feeling was... a relief, but not really about the fact that the assistant's place was free, no, a relief about Viktor that you couldn't really place at the moment.

"Why did you stop?" There was no longer any frustration in your voice, just a new-found curiosity.

Viktor seemed taken aback by your new intonation, straightening slightly against the wall. "It didn't interest me anymore."

What could he have found that was better? The thought, at last, that Viktor's aim was not to be an assistant for the rest of his life, crept into your mind. Viktor seemed to pick up on it.

"See? I told you we didn't have the same goal."

You finally realised what that feeling of relief was: you didn't have to hate him any more. You no longer had a reason to try to outdo him, no longer had a valid justification for becoming number one again. But why was it such a relief? There was rarely anything more gratuitous than hatred in what you knew, and it should have been the same for Viktor, so why was it such a relief not to have to hate him any more?

Hating him served no purpose, no motivation. It was useless, and what do you do with useless things?

You took half a step towards him.

"The truce you suggested, have you come up with any clauses?"

His eyebrows rose, his eyes widened. He lifted himself off the wall.

"Um no-" he began, but you cut him off.

"Find some, and I'll consider them."

And with that, you took off, leaving Viktor speechless. 

You moved quickly, trying to get home as fast as possible. You were afraid that the street air, so pure and fresh, would wash away your conclusions and fuel a hatred that no longer had any reason to exist.

But you didn't go home straight away, making a diversion to Emeline's shop. As soon as you entered her shop, she didn't hesitate to jump on your neck and give you a hug.

"My little lamb," she enthused as she squeezed you until your ribs broke before cupping your face as if to examine you, "are you feeling better? You gave me quite a fright, you know! When your friend came to visit me and told me you were ill I nearly closed up shop to come and see you myself."

"Everything's fine," you laughed, squeezing her arms, "I've almost completely recovered!"

You'd decided that, after your chat with Viktor and all the effort you'd put into your revision, you deserved a little something to comfort you.

After a little chat with Emeline, she packed two pastries, one for you and one for Sky. Of course, she didn't forget to fill you up with an extra small packet of sweets that would have gone unsold during the day.

When you returned home, you greeted Sky with a smile and raised the two bags of treats to your head. She smiled in surprise.

"To what do we owe this feast?" she asked.

You shrugged. "Let's just say I've made resolutions for the better."

You'd been laughing all evening, stuffing your faces with these delicacies as you both took a well-deserved break from studying.

Your eyes turned to your tarot deck, you'd forgotten to draw any cards lately due to your revisions, so after wiping your hands full of sugar, you took the pack in hand.

“I see you pulling one almost every morning,” Sky remarked, lying on her stomach on your bed while you were cross-legged. “Why do you do that?”

You pulled out your cards in your hands. “To have a leitmotif to follow during the day. Although to be quite honest I don't follow their advice every time.”

She laughed softly, knowing by now your stubbornness like no other. “That doesn't surprise me at all.”

“Yeah well,” you smiled in turn as you shuffled the cards, ”some of them are not the best cards to wake up on to in the morning.”

So you cut your deck as usual, and looked at its underside. You raised your eyebrows.

“Just like this one.”

You showed Sky the card: Death.

She winced, her eyebrows furrowing as her mouth formed as if she were pronouncing the letter x.

“Okay, I get it,” she said, shaking her head. “Is it literal? I hope not, right?”

“Nah it's pretty safe.” You laughed. “The description of its meaning is in the little booklet.” You pointed to it with your chin, and Sky grabbed it, flipping through until she found the Death page.

“Transition. Underworld. Flux. Occultism. Letting go. Evolution requiring liberation. Metaphorical death.” She read. “Off to a great start apparently.”

You chuckled, observing the card as she continued reading. “Death moves across a field with a slow, steady march. A king lies dead. He represents the old systems of order cast aside. A bishop begs for mercy, a young girl turns away in fear and only a curious little girl looks up to greet death. She has not been taught to fear it.”

Your thumb passed over the little girl's drawing, your heart clenching. 

“A ship sails away, heedless of death's march. A sun rises between two towers to reflect resurrection and new beginnings. All endings give way to new possibilities. Transformation leads to renewal and growth.” She raised her eyebrows. “Ain't as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Yeah,” you considered, thinking back on your day and the fact that the cards were pointing you in the right direction, ”indeed.”

Exam week was over. You'd had absolutely no trouble at all with any of the exercises. All the subjects were in the bag and you were finishing virtually ahead of schedule in every exam room.

Today was the day of results. The teachers had spent the weekend correcting everything, and the results boards had finally been displayed.

You woke up feeling lighter than you thought you would. Since realizing that there was no longer any point in chasing Viktor to victory, you'd relaxed.

You went down the hall with Sky, passing the student mailboxes for a moment so you could check if either of you had received anything.

You opened the metal door to a single letter, sealed with a metallic black wax seal you knew all too well: Eris.

You took the key to your apartment, using its teeth to open the envelope and take out the letter, which you brought to your nose.

Her letters always smelled of the essential oils and herbs that constantly appeased you. Without further ado, you unfolded the paper and read its contents.

My sweet friend,

I thought you were a lost cause in friendship, but I guess this year the wheel is really turning on your side. I'm delighted, and I imagine the same goes for Selene. I'd love to meet her, that Sky, she sounds absolutely charming. I'm guessing, though, that the day with your Five of Wands must have been no picnic, especially if - from what I understand - Emperor Viktor is to blame. But I'm sure that the Immeasurable Grandeur of the Prestigious Piltover Academy will crown your success.

You giggled to yourself as your eyes passed over the elegant, forced curves that Eris had taken care to add in response to your own inky bows.

I miss you so much. You know how the days are here in Zaun; I open, sell and consult, and close in the evening before any trouble starts. I'm paid with golden trinkets, new flowers to dry and other plants from other regions. I have managed to get some new customers, though, and not the least important ones. Renata Glasc herself has been to my shop.

You'd already heard of Renata Glasc, an ambitious woman who was growing in influence on the streets of Zaun. She wasn't a Chem Baroness, but at the rate she was going, it looked like she was well on her way to becoming one.

In fact, it's through her that I'm hearing about worrying things here. Common for Zaun, you may say, but I can't help thinking the worst. I'll tell you about it myself when we meet. I'm planning to come here around December 23, so let's meet at the usual bridge at three o'clock. I'll be staying with you for a few days. I can't tell you more. But I've lit a candle for you, wishing you success and good health.

I look forward to seeing you again, my dearest trouble,

Eris.

What could she possibly be worried about? The situation was invariably complicated in Zaun, but what could it be that she was worried about?

You carefully tucked the letter into your bag, heading out to the shuttle stop.

“Not too stressed?” Sky asked.

You huffed, a cloud of warmth rising into the air. The cold had been gaining in intensity for over a week, and all the students at the academy had donned their scarves.

“No.” you replied, confident. “You?”

“A bit,” she admitted, her breath trembling slightly.

“Hey,” you pressed your shoulder against hers as she turned to face you, ”you've got this. I know you do.”

She nodded, smiling at you as the shuttle arrived. The journey was swift, some students over-excited at the prospect of their results, others apprehensive about what was to come.

As you arrived at the golden gates of the academy, you noticed that neither Viktor nor Jayce were in sight. Perhaps they had decided to go to the academy later?

The group of students walked up to the scoreboards, an army of others already huddled in front of them.

Sky went in search of her name, while you breathed in, waiting for other students to pass before you.

You didn't know what awaited you at the top of the board, which name would be at the head. Did it still matter? Yes, it probably did, or it didn't. Did you want it to matter? Probably not. But did your mind keep wandering? Endlessly.

What if Viktor was still number one - would you be disappointed? What if you were number one - would you be satisfied? And if neither he nor you were number one, would you be revolted?

“Look who it is!”

That voice alone was enough to make you frown, raise your eyebrows and lower your eyelids in boredom.

Tyler.

You turned to him for a moment, him seeming pleased that you responded to his voice as you rolled your eyes and sighed.

“What do you want, blondie? Searching for a new name on the boards to torment?”

He chuckled, stepping toward you. “You don't change a winning team, darling. Have you found your place at the very bottom of the ranking?”

It was your turn to chuckle, turning to face him. He had no idea about your academic results, it seemed. 

“Tyler you have as many neurons as you have eyes, and they're both fighting for any kind of connection.” You turned to the bulletin board, stepping forward slightly. “Do them mercy and close your eyelids for all eternity before we have to deal with a rain of fire and the horsemen and...”

But you didn't even finish your sentence, the words dying on your lips as your eyes came to rest on your name.

First place.

You were back in first place. Eyes and mouth wide open, you kept blinking to make sure your vision wasn't failing you. And the name underneath... 

Viktor.

Your scores were almost equal, yours barely beating him.

“Told you I wasn't going to hold back.”

You turned towards the voice, the tinkle you now knew too well of his cane echoing on the floor. He stood there, serene, a small smile on his face before his lips pressed into an inverted grin and his eyebrows raised.

“You fight well, Miss.”

You couldn't help it - you cracked a smile at him. And Viktor seemed astonished, as if he'd never seen such a thing happen. No stupid remark, no pettiness behind your drawn lips, just sincere amusement and joy.

“What the...” Tyler's voice died in his throat as he took in the bulletin boards, turning to you. “How did you...”

You turned to him, his sole presence now not even enough to ruin your happiness and relief. “As if you could reach me,” you replied with a triumphant smile, walking out of the crowd to join Viktor.

Once you got away from all this tumult, he nodded. “You got first,” he remarked, “congratulations.”

You observed him for a second, his posture reflecting a sort of disappointment. Was it from losing? Or was it from the fact you seemed so happy in your rivalry with him? You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Quit it,” you pronounced with a smile, shaking your head slightly. “We share this crown, and you perfectly know that.”

He said nothing, just gazing at you for a moment. There was this gleam, the tickling of a smile ready to be born on his lips as the satisfaction that, maybe, these ink duels you were both fencing would wash away and let something different be born from them. 

He was apprehensive about saying something, but Jayce came towards you both.

“Ah, Jayce, exams went well?” You asked, knowing without a doubt that he didn't have to worry about his results.

“Oh yeah, perfect.” He nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line, his eyes darting from yours to Viktor's, surprised that you weren't quarrelling. “Say, hum... can I talk to you guys for a minute?” 

Viktor and you exchanged a confused look, before ultimately following him.

“A masquerade?” you repeated, as if the word had never grazed your lips before.

Jayce had brought you to a room in the Academy where you could all talk without hearing the multiple cries of students as to their result. And considering what he had to discuss with you, he'd done the right thing.

“It's this thing Mel is invited to,” he explained nervously. “All the people of high aristocracy will be there, counselors, lords and ladies... Please, can you both accompany me to it?”

“As your dance partners?” joked Viktor, frowning.

“No, Mel's already my partner. But, she said that there would be no opposition for you both to come as well. You're the,” he seemed to search for words for a moment, ”croom dé la cram?”

“Crême de la crême?” you suggested.

He pointed at you, glad you understood. “Yeah, that. La crême de la crême of the Academy. Such prestigious students as the both of you sharing the top of the board deserve to be in such an event.”

“So you want us,” you pointed repeatedly between Viktor and yourself, ”to come to this event because you're too nervous to go there by yourself?”

The interested party scratched the back of his neck, sniffling before looking at you both with puppy-dog eyes. “Yeah?”

“Aren't you supposed to have a partner to come to a masquerade?” Interrogated Viktor.

“I thought you two could... go together?”

You chuckled, your mouth hanging open. You exchanged a bewildered look with Viktor, who didn't seem to be too upset by the concept.

“You're joking, right?” you asked.

“Please just-” he didn't finish his sentence, “put your bickering aside for one evening. You don't even have to show up together if it suits you better.”

“I don't see any problems with it,” Viktor shrugged, indifferent. “When is it?”

"Tomorrow night."

“Tomorrow night?” You exclaimed. “Jayce, if it's a society gala, I've got nothing to wear.”

He reached into his own wallet, pulled out some bills and handed them to you.

“Here, I'm sure you'll find something convenient with this.”

“Jayce,” you remarked, looking at the fresh bills, “what the hell.”

“This is not much for you to get a decent gown for the gala. Keep the rest, if there is any, to get some fancy accessories.” He grabbed your hand, placing the cash in it. “Truly, this is the least I can do.”

You knew Jayce's patrons were the Kiramman’s, but to have money to give away like this? Since when was that the case?

“Vik, I think it's time for us to go.” Jayce finally remarked before leaving the room, leaving the two of you.

You both stayed in silence for a moment, both digesting the information that had just been given to you.

“What a way to celebrate your victory,” Viktor finally sighed.

“I've seen worse celebrations than a masquerade,” you remarked, observing the tickets for a moment before folding them up, “but I think I've had better experiences than being in a room with nobility sipping glasses of champagne with petty innuendo in every exchange.”

He huffed in turn. “I suppose the next area in which we must excel in no time is the art of conversation in high society. Although, considering our usual conversation,” he leaned his head to the side with a smirk, "we'll fit right in."

“How exciting,” you raised your eyebrows sarcastically, letting silence take its rule back on the room before you finally decided to break it. ”Guess I better go and find myself something to wear. See you tomorrow, Viktor.” 

“Wait,” he called to you, seeming hesitant about what he was going to suggest, ”would you like us to get together first and go? Or...”

“Let's meet directly at the party,” you assured him.

He nodded, his lips pressing in a thin line as you turned away. “Oh and...” you turned back to him at his words, his eyes piercing. “Don't forget the mask.”

You nodded, leaving the room.

You had today and tomorrow to find an outfit, and get used to the fact that Viktor was no longer a threat to be eliminated. Easier said than done. 

But still… What a way to celebrate a rebirth.

✦﹒ previous chapter ✦﹒ next chapter

[ofbatsandballads]

have this thing I wrote in a flash of pure, unadulterated love for Jason that I felt while doing my hair routine after my shower. never needed a fictional guy more in all my life and honestly this may be my personal favorite thing I’ve ever written.

Thinking about domesticity with Jason Todd. Building a home with him, a life. How ever so gradually mine and yours becomes ours.

You’re brushing your teeth one morning and decide to try out his toothpaste, the one he always buys from the bodega down the block owned by the little abuelita that loves him to death. It’s fresh and it’s minty and you swear it leaves your teeth whiter than the brand name stuff you buy, so you let your tube get used up and never buy toothpaste again. Jason, without question, simply starts buying it twice as often as usual.

You’re fresh from the shower together after a night off for both of you. You’re warm and you’re happy and you’re both so in love it almost hurts. You watch enraptured as he towel dries his hair, roughly scrunching the water from his inky curls. You don’t like how he lacks gentleness with himself, so you take the towel from him and gesture for him to lean down. Ever obedient to you, Jason complies and smiles softly as you dry his hair for him. You think suddenly that while his curls are always soft to the touch, they could do with being a bit more defined. They tend to get really frizzy and poofy by the end of the day. So you grab your curl cream and gel and just absentmindedly do your own routine on him. He raises his eyebrow in question only to quickly relent when he realizes it means you’re playing with his hair for longer. Your hunch is right; once his hair dries, his curls are so pretty you think you could get lost in the waves of them. Jason’s just happy cause now his hair smells like you.

The only clothes Jason has that are his now is his Red Hood gear. The rest of his closet has quickly become co-owned by you. His brain never fails to short circuit when you walk out in his hoodies, or his sweatpants, or his t-shirts, or his boxers. There’s not one piece of his civilian clothing that hasn’t been on both of your bodies at this point. Sometimes seeing you in his clothes has Jason blushing and his heart pounding with how much he loves you, how grateful he is to have this life with you. Other times seeing you in his clothes has him calculating the fastest way he can get them all off of you. You’re just disappointed that it can’t go both ways. But, alas, the struggles of having a massive boyfriend are that he’ll never be able to fit in your clothes. Whatever; it still does something for you when he finally wears the old Gotham Knights shirt that you’d stolen for months.

It’s also kind of funny sometimes. You two own a set of old, dark gray towels affectionately labeled “The Blood Towels”. The Blood Towels are only brought out after a really rough patrol or post-showering when you’re on your period. They came about after you’d nearly slipped while soaking wet from how quickly you’d tried to dry off to avoid bleeding on his good, fluffy towels. Jason just looked at you like you were a little ditzy, a flat “Do ya know how many times I’ve bled on these towels?” coming from his mouth. “I don’t care! I still don’t wanna ruin them!” you’d insisted. And thus, The Blood Towels were born.

Your bookshelf is never going to stop growing. You’ve actually had to go to IKEA more than once to get a larger one with how often you and Jay visit the old bookstore two blocks away from your apartment. Neither of you can resist a pretty cover, or a new annotated edition, or, heaven forbid, those rare, expensive first edition copies. At this point you’re not really sure which of the five copies of Pride and Prejudice first belonged to who, but really what does it matter when you’re both reading them anyways? And it’s always funny when you have to drag home a bigger bookshelf. You can never hold your laughter when Jason inevitably shouts “What the fuck! This wouldn’t be so goddamn hard if they actually gave you coherent instructions!” It’s also always nice to drag the old bookshelves to the apartment of the single mom downstairs whose kid loves reading. You both know she can barely afford the second hand books she gets him, so the shelves are happily given. You’re actually thinking of asking Jay if he’s willing to part with one of your first edition copies of Frankenstein for Christmas; the kid would freak.

All of this comes to a head with a cat. A big, fat, black cat that crawls up on your fire escape one night. You’d both been a little distracted–okay, a lot distracted by the feeling of being lost in each other's touch. You’d been making out for over an hour, just relishing in the intimacy of being together. It was definitely going to go somewhere until you heard the caterwauling of an animal outside your window. “The fuck is that?” Jason had asked as he pulled away from kissing bruises into your neck. “Sounds like a cat.” You’d begged, actually begged, Jason to let him stay. The next morning you came home with a grocery bag full of cat toys and bowls while Jason hauled a value-sized 40 pound bag of cat food on his shoulder. Atticus sits with you both while you watch TV now. Atticus still sometimes ruins the mood when he sees Jason sink his teeth into you and immediately swats his dad on the cheek. But Atticus is also undeniably your boy. And whatever, maybe you do start thinking about what Jason would look like with an actual baby in his arms when he’s cradling Atty as he shuffles around your home. But there’s time for that yet. You both know that. You know that beyond anything else, you’ll always have this life, this home together. It’s the best gift either of you have ever been given.

[kissingmensbiceps]

Dirty Sheets ch.1 . . . Forgot your keys?

୨୧ summary: You were raised to be a good girl. With a strict lifestyle, college was a way to escape your small town and enter the real world. Sadly enough that meant bills upon bills, making it hard to fend for your own. That’s where Satoru Gojo came into your life. Your roommate, splitting the bills each month. You didn’t question what he did for work, and he didn’t question you. Sneaking around, doing such lewd things to rack up the bills, and secretly getting off on each other in the process.

୨୧ pairing: pornstar!Gojo x pornstar!reader

୨୧ wc: 1.9k (about a 8 minute read)

୨୧ warnings: 18+, fem!reader, smut, college au, f!ingering, jerking off, friends (?) to lovers, slow burn (upcoming), mentions of religion.

୨୧ a/n: Hi pretty babies this was just a little something that had been in my head for a while. I wanna turn it into a series but I’m not sure yet. Anyways happy reading :)

The door of your room was locked shut with extra care and serenity to block out any noise of the lewd, dirty acts going on behind. It was 9:00 pm, your roommate out of the house at some underground emo rock show—you didn’t really listen where Gojo said he was going, nor did you care. Instead, your mind was occupied and booked with the work you had to get done by the time he got home. Let’s just say it involved props, set up, and one hell of a pornographic moan to accomplish it.

Your laptop was propped up on your plush mattress, which was covered in fuzzy blankets—some of which Gojo had bought you last year for Christmas before things got rough between the two of you. It was sinful, to be making such content just to pay your half of the rent each month, doing it on the covers that he had bought you. No one else to see. Yet they were right under you in almost every video you made.

It was good money, though, and along side with your job as a bartender, money added up quick; pockets were heavy, your belly was full, and you had a little extra on yourself to do whatever.

And that usually consisted of going to the nearest sex shop in town and buying more things for your videos. Where you would store them? That was a problem for when you got home.

Clicking the big red “record” button on the screen, you get into position. You always got countless messages from men, mostly older, and even the occasional woman, and you who’d do whatever they asked. They sent the money and you got to work.

It was your dirty little secret, something no one knew about, something that no one would ever know about. You were a good girl. Coming from a strict Christian household, the youngest in the family, not even mentioning being the only girl in your family. Overprotective brothers and a pastor as your father. Of course no one would know, they wouldn’t suspect their sweet, innocent baby girl to do such disgusting things.

You flutter your eyes in a doe like manor into the camera, your eyes big and round as you slowly stick out your pink, wet tongue. Taking your pointer and middle finger together, pressing the pads of them softly onto the wet surface before closing your mouth around them, keeping eye contact the entire time. You swirl your hot tongue around your digits before taking them out with a pop.

Finally looking away from the camera, your eyes trail down, leading to where your clothed pussy rested gently on the bed. There was a noticeable wet spot through the lace, which you had made by playing and teasing yourself beforehand.

The warm fairy lights that strung along your room created a angel-like glow across your body, which was expected to be covered up head to toe, according to the way you were raised. It angled off your creamy, soft skin that was pleasurable to the eyes who would get their nasty and salacious hands on this film.

A cheeky small smile appears on your lips, feeling your heart speed up just slightly as you look at the camera through your thick lashes. You take your slippery, spit coated fingers and bring them down to your panties, going achingly slow for the viewer.

Finally you pull them to the side, dipping them into your soaking folds, feeling yourself up softly as you tilt your head back. Soft hums and whimpers escape your lips which were drawn back into your teeth. One finger slips into your warm cunt, curling it in just the right way. Slowly moving it in a steady speed, you add the second finger, making your jaw go slack.

You speed up your movements, making sounds that are a bit exaggerated—but they have to be right? You gently begin to ride your fingers like they were a girthy cock, who’s cock? You don’t have an answer, just an imagination and years worth of browsing through twitter and other porn websites under your belt.

It’s not long before you cum all over your fingers with a moan loud enough that Gojo could definitely hear from inside his bedroom, but he’s not here right now, is he? Panting softly, your brain registers that you’re still recording. You look back into the lens, and see yourself on the screen: flushed, disheveled, eyes half lidded to the point of dozing off, and fingers still halfway shoved in your spongy walls.

You pull them out, lick them clean like a cat licks her paws, before smiling softly once more at the camera. Saying a final message, you end the video and collapse onto your welcoming bed, cunt still sticky with your release.

You stare at the ceiling feeling a sense of guilt. Gods watching you. Is all that rang through your head, over and over like a bad headache that just wouldn’t go the fuck away. Shouldn’t swear either, sweetie, you know the rules in this house.

Your thoughts disperse from your clouded mind when your phone dings from beside you.

| | 9:24 P.M Gojo: omw home. open the door 4 me, lost my keys.

You sigh as you read his unwelcome message, this dudes always loosing his fucking keys. It was getting annoying at this point. At least you had a decent excuse to be a bit bitchy tonight.

| | 9:25 P.M You: okay.

You walk to the door with heavy footsteps, swinging it open to find a slightly tipsy Gojo with a bored expression on his dumb hot face. With a small huff you open it wider as he ducks down to walk through.

“Sure took ya long enough to answer the door.” He mutters, doesn’t bother to take his shoes off which you often pester him about, and continues his journey through the apartment.

“And maybe you shouldn’t have forgotten your keys-“

“—Lost actually.”

You glare at him which makes him crack an amused smile. “Right, my apologies for using the wrong terminology for your key predicament.”

He only smirks which makes you want to either punch it right off his gorgeous mouth or kiss it, haven’t made up your mind about that one yet. It was a daily battle between your annoyance of Satoru Gojo, or complete and utter desire.

“You’re in quite the mood this evening,” He comments as he sets down a brown paper bag on the kitchen island. “Almost makes me feel bad for ya.” He breaks open the staple sealed bag with a rip. “That was a joke by the way.”

“Haha, your like, just so funny! The funniest actually.” He rolls his eyes at your sarcastic comment which makes you smirk this time around as you sit on the other side of the island.

“Your ass must be pretty jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth.” He quips which makes you scoff. He pulls out the take out from the paper back and onto the counter, the smell of Chinese food making your mouth water.

“Oooh ouch that one hurt.” You respond to his joke as you secretly sniff out the food. All you wanted was a good meal after a tiring orgasam, but your stubborn attitude refuses to ask. “And for future reference, don’t make jokes involving my ass.”

“Why, ya a prude or somethin’?” Gojo turns around to grab a pair of chopsticks from a drawer.

“No. Gonna let me have a taste?” You nod your head to the box of lo mein that he had set on the counter.

He turns around. “Then why can’t I make jokes about your ass?” He stuffs the chopsticks into the box as he leans against the counter, completely ignoring your request.

“Because, Gojo, my ass is too good for you to be talked about.” You roll your eyes. “And it’s disgusting for you to even want to.”

“Your acting like a pruuude.” He says in a sing song voice, which was annoyingly good and pleasing to the ears. Gojo had a love for music, at least that’s your impression. By the multiple rock band t-shirts he owns and the underground band concerts he attends with his friends, it’s pretty easy to tell.

You only scoff and roll your eyes, something you did so often that it was a miracle that they didn’t get stuck that way. Pushing yourself off the counter you grab a bottle of water from the fridge “Goodnight, loser.”

“Night, princess.” You could hear the smug tone in his voice and mouth full of noodles, which makes you want to rip his vocal cords out but then you wouldn’t be able to hear the pretty noises he made late at night, whether that be his annoyingly good singing skills, or the ones he made while using his left hand.

“And find your fucking keys,” You call back. “Next time I ain’t letting you in.”

Gojo watched as you went to your room, fluffy pajamas pants making you look oh so soft and cuddly, making a perfect mental image to get off later. But he had business to take care of.

It’s not like he’d tell anyone (who wasn’t his closet friends because he enjoyed to brag) because then he’d get the label of “man whore”. And sadly as cool as it was in the men’s locker room to ramble on and on about the latest girl you had fucked, it wasn’t something you went and told other women.

That was one of the only things Gojo was good at besides making a girl have an actual pleasurable orgsam. It was who and when to tell. No girl willingly wants to have sex with a slut. Too many risks, physically and of course mentally. Man sluts never stay.

So instead of going out every night and finding some random hot chick to plant his seed and go along on his merry way, he decided to stay in and make content. Easy money, he just had to touch his cock (which he did multiple times anyway) make a few videos emphasizing his voice to either be more dominant or submissive and boom. Rent money is perfectly handled. Rest of the savings going to drinks at the clubs or parties he went to with Geto or Nanami when they could get him out the house.

He’d spoil himself by indulging on other people’s videos and smutty photos as well. He’d spend his sleepless nights searching the web for a new pretty baby to watch get herself off, picturing himself in bed with her, helping the poor thing out.

And of course Gojo never told you about his job. He wasn’t the fondest of you, and you weren’t the biggest fan of him either, but he didn’t want to destroy the innocence he thought you had.

But you both continued to make your content, racking up enough bills to move out of this shitty off-campus apartment but you never did. For what reason? You both liked the company. You liked the thought of sneaking around each other, secretly getting off on each other’s sacred body parts that were too private to actually explore.

You secretly got off to his desperate huffs of air and whiny breaths through the thin walls, cold fingers tracing your clit as you imagine that they were his.

Unbeknownst to you, he’d watch the faceless bodies on his own laptop, picturing your face on the heavenly body as he jerked off. Slowly moving his hand up and down his shaft, eyes shut tight as if they were glued to stay that way.His brain going into the dark depths that were only brought to the surface when he’d see you. His precious little roommate that just seemed so incredibly sweet, stepping into heaven and seeing her as God’s favorite angel.