#let him have formal wear.

[the-weeping-dawn]

.....Other weird rough draft notes...

So Mizora is just a post game supporting character since she's basically helping Wyll get through the adjustment of needing to play the political side of things and seems to jujst be vibing and having a fun time with it.

She's a fucking delight to write as an ally character for things like ball/masqurade scenes especially with a still adjusting Duke Wyll and Mizora who's similarly hanging with the wall since she isn't used to how to handle these things on the surface.

Meanwhile Mizora and Ilz are basically becoming quick friends because oh right this would be his normal party if recruited where he should be.

[stealingpotatoes]

Hello there! Curious to know what kind of outfits you think Padmé suggests/dresses Anakin up in on their ~*fashion date*~ stealingpotatoes(.)tumblr(.)com/713965394712526848

q 1. thank you for reminding me that "design some fix-it au outfits" has been on my to draw list for like 3 months and 2. just like. every outfit in star wars ever. she's absolutely trying various naboo fashions first (she wants to match) and then various other fancy Coruscanti fashions loll -- and in her defence, neither her nor Anakin knows what casual fashion he likes beforehand! so its not selfish to try get him matching her! ...except he pretty quickly realises that yeahhhh i think im just gonna get some normal tshirts and jackets this isn't my style

[aossim]

I genuinely forgot how hairy Ceallach was.

[an-autistic-with-personhood]

*writes a novel in the tags of a reblog and hits post*

For my mutuals ✨💕💫

[justahumblecabbagemerchant]

Headcanon that this is in an everyone-lives-nobody-dies au and the letters are from Lancelot, Percival, Mordred, Elyan, and Leon, and everyone’s like “wait did Gwaine not write one? We told him it was today, didn’t we?” And then Merlin walks into his room and Gwaine’s naked on his bed with a rose in his teeth bc “why tell when you can show, eh Merlin 😉😘”

Anyway he startles Merlin so badly that he trips and falls down the stairs leading up to his bedroom and gets a nasty bump on his head and Gaius has to look over him with Merlin going “it’s not that bad, honestly” while giving major eyebrow to Gwaine, who’s wearing a sheet and has a slightly sheepish expression and a bloody lip bc it didn’t occur to him to cut the thorns off his rose and he accidentally bit down on it when Merlin fell

Arthur walks in, ready to yell at Merlin for being late for SOMETHING, stops, takes in the scene, decides he really doesn’t want to know, and walks back out again

(Mordred is sad that Merlin was too busy getting a head wound to start reading his letter bc he wants Emrys to see all the pictures he drew of them hanging out together doing magic)

the knights: we don’t know if he’ll notice, but we each slipped a little note in merlin's bag to let him know that we love him.

merlin, pulling five 100-page letters out of his bag: what the—

[hollow-prey]

quick, before valentine's day is over, post Grimm in formal attire

[act-nat-ural]

You and Kiyoomi lie together in your shared bed, coexisting peacefully. He’s flipping through his book while you play The Sims 4. You let out a giggle as you click away on your laptop, catching Kiyoomi’s attention. He glances over and raises a brow at you.

“Is it that fun?” he asks.

You hum and nod. “You just married Atsumu.”

His jaw drops, and he blinks at you. “…You made a sim of me?”

Nodding, you turn the screen to show him. “Look! I even got your moles in there. I had to download custom content, though.”

His eyes dart from you to the screen, where a carefully crafted replica of not only him but also his teammates stands dressed in formal wear. He’s wearing a wedding dress.

“Why am I married to Miya?”

You shrug, turning the screen back to yourself. “I didn’t want to make myself; it’s too much work.”

He scoffs and grabs the laptop. “Wha– hey! I need to save!”

“I’ll do it. I want to make you. That way, I have someone to divorce Atsumu for.”

You snort, resting your head on his shoulder as you watch him create his future wife.

[demaparbat-hp]

Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

.

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

[everythingspokenfor]

All characters are aged up 18+ MDNI

The bells on your anklets make Bakugou's dick hard.

You and Bakugou have been dating for almost a year now. Taking things slow and all.

He didn't really notice the bells because you always wore your hero suit or formal wear, but now that the two of you have moved in together, they have become more prominent. You had been working in the kitchen, chopping up fruits for his while talking. But all Bakugou was thinking about the little tinkles as your feet moved around. It's reminded him of all the times they jingled.

Especially during having sex together. Everytime the bells jingle, Bakugou's mind goes back to the image of folding your thighs till your knees are squishing your breasts and the ankles are jingling right next to his ears.

Your pretty moans almost loud enough to drown out the clinking. The visual image of your teary eyes, as they try to focus on his. The desperation with which you clawed his hands because his thumb was relentless on your clit. The way you tried to press against his belly because he was in too deep.

Or the way your tight little pussy was the opposite. Gooey and tight, each pulse of your cunt seemed to hold him on place. Creamy little rings at the base of his cock, as if to mark him as her own. Squelching with each thrust.

Throbbing little clit, peeking from under the hood. Red and pulsing too.

The image of you cuming around his cock, eyes rolling back, toes curling, fingernails digging into his back. You tilting your head to the side and moaning his name, begging for a little kiss.

The jingle of your anklets, when Bakugou's finally let's go of your thighs and limply rests them on the mattress.

"..Suki..Suki..Babe you like apples that much, huh?", you teased while settling down a tray of fruits and glancing at him.

"what..?" Bakugou questioned you, still a little dazed.

You looked down and he followed, only to see his cock tenting his sweats and oozing pre.

You placed your fingers on his sticky tip and asked "what got you all wet, Suki?"

"the anklets babe, little jingles make my dick hard. Want them ringing in my ears babe" Bakugou replied, while leaning back letting you play with his dick.

[you-know-honey]

Dance

Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Jayce has a plan: convince Viktor to attend the most important charity party in Piltover. But, as expected, Viktor refuses. What he didn't expect was that his assistant would show up at his workshop with a dazzling dress… and an invitation that Jayce secretly gave her. Could he really refuse now?

N/A: English is not my first language, feel free to correct me in the comments and I'll update it. Remember share if you liked it.

Viktor was focused, hunched over his desk as he fine-tuned one of the delicate pieces of hexcore. The dim lamplight illuminated his tired face, with dark circles under his eyes and strands of hair falling across his forehead. He didn’t notice Jayce’s entrance until the echo of the door closing resonated through the workshop.

“Viktor, old friend,” Jayce said, his tone bright and already foreshadowing trouble. “I have news.”

“If it has to do with that charity party, the answer is still no,” Viktor replied without looking at him, adjusting the tool in his hand.

Jayce sighed dramatically, dropping his weight into one of the nearby chairs.

“Mel has insisted that we go. We represent the future of Piltover, remember? Innovators, role models…” Jayce made a wide gesture with his hands, as if he were giving a speech.

“If Mel insists, you can represent us alone,” Viktor replied indifferently. He knew he wasn’t really required here, inviting him was just a formality. Then he looked up and looked at him seriously. “I don’t have time for parties, there’s a lot of work to finish here.”

Not to mention that dancing was something he had crossed off the list of things he could still do.

His friend really wanted Viktor to go, mostly because he had been very down lately, he barely left the lab and there were days where he would find him with his face on his notebooks after falling asleep at some point in the early morning, he was the first to arrive and the last to leave, if he ever did.

Jayce watched him in silence for a moment, before giving him a sly smile.

“Okay, I understand. You can’t just drop your projects. But what if I gave you a reason to go?”

Viktor frowned, distrusting his tone.

—What kind of reason?

Jayce didn't answer. Instead, his smile widened as he glanced towards the door of the workshop, as if he was waiting for something. He had recently discovered what he thought was a clue to the kind of feelings Viktor had for you, the long longing glances, the little smiles, the casual approaches of his hands, he answering any of your curiosities and letting you sing soft melodies while he worked were all very obvious clues to his eyes. Viktor followed the direction of his gaze just as the door opened.

And there you were.

Viktor felt the air leave his lungs. You weren’t wearing your usual practical attire. Instead, you were sporting an elegant iridescent white dress that flowed like water with your every move. The color perfectly complemented your skin tone, and the design highlighted your figure in a way Viktor couldn’t ignore. Your hair was delicately arranged, and a glint in your eyes suggested you was nervous, yet excited.

“Y/N?” Viktor asked, still processing what he was seeing.

You gave him a shy, yet warm smile.

“Jayce invited me as your date,” you said, your tone a mix of apology and expectation. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Viktor slowly turned to Jayce, who now wore an expression of unabashed triumph.

“What have you done?” Viktor asked, his voice low, but laced with disbelief.

“I gave you a reason to go,” Jayce replied, raising his hands in an innocent gesture. “I knew you wouldn’t accept if there wasn’t something… or someone to make the evening interesting for you.”

Viktor felt his face heat up as his thoughts struggled to organize themselves. Of course he felt a certain special affection for you. It had been a secret he had jealously kept, even from himself, and he had refrained from dwelling on it too much, after all they were coworkers. But now, seeing you there, so beautiful, waiting for his answer, completely disarmed him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Viktor,” you said softly. “I just thought it would be… nice.”

Viktor’s heart skipped a beat. There was something in your tone that made him immediately doubt his usual refusal. For the first time in a long time, the idea of ​​getting away from his work, even for a few hours, didn’t seem so far-fetched. Mostly because he didn’t seem able to wipe that beautiful smile off your face by refusing. His mind searched for excuses for himself, to justify that he had now changed his mind, and that this change had nothing to do with you.

Finally, he stood up with the help of his staff, running a hand through his messy hair, although it didn't help much.

"If you insist…" he murmured, looking at you more than at Jayce. "I suppose I can make an exception."

Jayce smiled widely.

"Perfect. Now, change. You can't go dressed like that."

Viktor let out a resigned sigh as he took the suitcase that Jayce had left with his suit, in another attempt to convince him, but he couldn't stop a small smile from appearing on his lips as he headed to the bathroom to change.

When he left he felt a little silly, he tried to arrange his hair in front of the mirror but it was totally impossible. Jayce see proudly that his plan had paid off, but the most important look for Viktor and the one he looked for as soon as he opened the door was yours. He watched your pupils dilate rapidly as you saw him come out in that elegant suit. Your hands went to your mouth trying to hide a smile. Viktor forced himself to look away to avoid them seeing the small blush that ran across his pale cheeks.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” You quickly went to open one of the tool cabinets, rummaging through the back with the curious gaze of the boys behind you. After a moment, you pulled out a small box, and as if you were a little girl skipping, you approached Viktor with it. “I hope you like it.”

Viktor looked at you in surprise as he took the delicate box in his hands. He opened it delicately to discover a maroon tie between the strands of paper. His gaze traveled from the gift to you several times before giving you a warm smile as he took the tie between his slender fingers.

“Would you have the honor?” You nodded with a smile, as your hands took the tie you got closer to him, managing to smell the coffee aroma that you loved so much, you brought the tie behind his neck inside the collar of his shirt and tied it perfectly over his chest. “Thank you.”

The evening was everything Viktor had expected: lavish, loud, and filled with Piltover’s elites. Laughter and lively conversation echoed between walls adorned with gilded chandeliers and silk curtains. Viktor had always considered these events a waste of time.

When they arrived, Viktor could barely take his eyes off you. Jayce had already gone after the councilwoman, leaving them alone, as Viktor knew he would. His discomfort was evident in the way his hands played with the handle of his cane, which he tried to hide as soon as he began to walk through the crowd. You seemed to radiate confidence with every step, politely greeting the other attendees, as if these events were common for you.

Viktor, however, felt out of place. He held his cane tighter than usual, trying not to trip, but it was difficult given the state of his leg and the huge crowd.

“Relax,” you whispered with a reassuring smile as you tangled your arm through his. “Is it that bad?”

Viktor looked at you, his eyes softening instantly.

“Easy for you to say. You seem made for this.”

She let out a soft laugh.

“Not as much as you think. I’m just trying to look like it.”

A waiter passed by with a tray of wine glasses, taking a couple, offering another to Viktor. He reluctantly grew taller, though he hesitated before taking a sip.

From a safe distance, Jayce watched the scene with a satisfied smile. Mel approached him, arching an eyebrow in curiosity.

“What did you do this time?”

“A little push in the right direction,” Jayce replied, nodding towards where you stood with Viktor.

Mel let out a light laugh, shaking her head.

“I didn’t know you were a matchmaker.”

Jayce said alarmingly, shrugging.

“I’m not. But sometimes, a man needs help to see what’s right in front of him.”

Meanwhile, you and Viktor had climbed the stairs to the second floor, so you were more isolated from the hustle and bustle, it was a big job for him, but he really wanted to get away from the crowd. Plus the second floor was an even more beautiful place than the main hall, full of huge stained glass windows and a balcony at the end.

“I never imagined I’d end up here,” you said, looking at the lights that dyed the floor thanks to the stained glass. “When I was a child, I looked at the towers of Piltover from Zaun and dreamed of seeing them up close.”

“Zaun leaves its mark on all of us,” Viktor said softly, his fingers drumming against the handle of his cane. “But it’s not always a bad thing. Sometimes, it pushes us to… be better.”

You looked at him with a shy smile, your eyes meeting his.

"Do you think we've accomplished that?"

Viktor was silent for a moment sighing before answering, then slightly tilted his head at you.

"You certainly have."

Your eyes widened in surprise, a slight blush coloring your cheeks.

"That's quite a compliment coming from you."

The sound of music filled the air, and the guests began to make their way to the main hall for the dance. Jayce didn't hesitate to take Mel's hand and head out onto the dance floor.

"It's time to dance" you said, looking over the railing at the rest of the guests dancing with their partners with some longing.

"I don't dance" Viktor answered immediately. It was one of the things he had crossed off the list of things he could still do.

You looked at Viktor, shaking your head.

"I can't…"he didn't like saying that at all, but he didn't want her to be disappointed for failing even in the attempt to do it, all his life he had known that those things weren't for him, so he didn't give himself the time to even try. "I'm sorry to disappoint you." Viktor approached the railing, to look at all those couples dancing next to you.

"Disappoint me?" you answered incredulously, carefully bringing one of your hands closer to his "I don't think you can ever do that."

Your pinky gently caressed his hand, it was okay if he didn't want to dance, you had already witnessed what the pain in his leg could cause him and you didn't want that to happen today. You were pleased to just have his presence by your side, that was enough for you.

Viktor sighed, feeling guilty for 'ruining your night' he looked at you and knew he had to take the risk. He reached out a hand to you, more shaky than he would have liked.

“This time I might try.”

You took his hand carefully, leading him away from the railing, to his own little dance floor. As the music continued, Viktor tried to focus on following your steps, but he realized his attention was completely fixed on you, the way you held his hand, the way he felt your body close to his, your warmth against the cold of your skin. He couldn't help but blush as he finally worked up the courage to look at your face, your smile, the way you looked at him as if he were more than just an inventor addicted to his work.

For the first time in a long time, Viktor allowed himself to let go of the cane that made an almost imperceptible sound as it fell to the ground, he allowed himself to be enveloped by the moment, by the sensations, by you. He forced his leg to be useful to him for the first time, slowly under the silver lights of the moon, the outside world faded away, the pressure of his work, everything that tormented him left him to live the moment with you.

"Viktor, your cane…" you rushed quickly to grab it, thinking that you had dropped it by mistake but his hand in yours stopped you.

"I want to try it like this." He said as he extended his other hand for you to take. You weren't sure if that was the best thing for him, but the confidence on his face, the way he looked as if he were begging you to let him live that moment like that ended up convincing you.

Jayce, watching the scene from a safe distance at the bottom of the stairs, smiled to himself.

"It's about time." he said before Mel appeared and he happily let himself be dragged back to the dance floor.

The dance continued, and although Viktor's movements were a little stiff, your slow, gentle movements managed to relax him little by little. Despite his lack of experience, Viktor was surprised to find a natural rhythm next to you. The murmur of the rest of the guests, the echo of laughter and conversations, faded as your eyes remained fixed on his, with your hands resting on his shoulders, and his own hands caressing your waist.

"See? It wasn't so terrible after all," you murmured with a smile as you buried your face in his neck.

Viktor looked down, his lips curving into a slight smile. But he knew he couldn't last much longer standing without his cane, he was starting to feel that stabbing pain in his leg, he tried to control it as best he could, he didn't want that moment with you to end.

"It's… bearable." He tried to keep his body as relaxed as possible, to avoid you noticing and he feeling like a dying man again.

You laughed, a sound so warm and sincere that it caused Viktor to have a strange tingle in his chest.

"Always so enthusiastic?" you joked.

"Maybe the environment has an influence" he answered, keeping his tone sarcastic but with an unusual softness that you didn't miss.

A comfortable silence settled between the two of them as they continued to sway to the music. Viktor, normally so oblivious to social interactions, couldn't help but wonder how someone like you, so kind and brilliant, was more than comfortable being in his life. And more importantly, how he had been lucky enough to have you stay in it.

As the music began to become softer, both of their movements became slower, until they stopped completely. You stayed close, your hands still joined, until he spoke in a voice barely audible to you:

"Thank you for joining me tonight."

You nodded.

"Thank you… for making it bearable."

He smiled, his gaze lowering for a moment before meeting yours again, as you picked up his cane from the floor and surrendered.

"Thank you. We should do this more often, don't you think?"

The suggestion took you by surprise, you didn't think Viktor would want to repeat something like that, but instead of responding with a negative and referring to his leg, you simply said:

"Maybe." with a sweet smile, now that you both shared more than just work. Without the bustle and inquisitive glances of the attendees, it was as if they were in a world of their own.

The party had reached its moment of recess, with laughter and soft music filling the air. The guests began to disperse throughout the place and some began to climb the stairs. The moment you shared was abruptly broken when a visibly drunk councilman stumbled towards you with a smirk on his face. His ostentatious attire and wine glass in hand made him seem out of place in the serene atmosphere you had created.

“Ah, there are the strangers!” he exclaimed, his tone heavy with mockery. His eyes assessed you both, lingering a little longer on you, an expression that made you shudder in disgust. You had received such looks before, you knew them and knew they led to nothing good.

Viktor tensed instantly, straightening up with difficulty and leaning more heavily on his cane to take a step forward.

“Can we help you with something?” Viktor asked coldly, clearly uncomfortable with the man’s presence.

The councilman let out an exaggerated laugh.

“Oh, I don’t need any help from you.” Though I must say, Heimerdinger has strange priorities, letting a couple of second-class citizens mingle among us.

Your brow furrowed and you clenched your fists, more than ready to throw him down the stairs and pretend he slipped. But before you could say anything, the man turned to Viktor with a sly grin.

“You… Viktor… How admirable that you accomplish so much in such… poor health. It’s a miracle you can stay on your feet, don’t you think? Though, of course, when all you have to offer is your brain, I guess there’s not much else you can use to impress.”

The comment hit like a whiplash, but Viktor didn’t respond immediately, it wasn’t the first time he heard someone talk about him like that, he didn’t care at all. His grip on the cane tightened just because you were there, and his jaw clenched, of all people in the world, he didn’t want you to be the one to hear that. He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the man.

The councilor, seeing that he wasn’t getting a response, turned his attention to you again. His eyes scanned you shamelessly, his smile twisting even more.

“And you, my dear… I guess it makes sense that you’re here with him. The girls of Zaun always know how to… adapt to circumstances, don’t they? A perfect match: a disembodied brain and a… well, you know.”

Indignation took hold of you. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, but before you could respond or move to fit his nose with a punch, Viktor grabbed your hand, stopping the hurricane of thoughts in your mind.

“Stop it,” Viktor said, his voice low but firm.

The councilman raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise.

“Oh, did you hit a nerve? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No,” Viktor interrupted, taking a step forward, despite the obvious annoyance the movement caused him. “Don’t be sorry. And I don’t want your fake apologies. Just… shut your mouth and get out.”

The man snorted, but before he could say anything else, you faced him, walking steadily in front of him, your voice clear and determined.

“It must be exhausting carrying so much shit around,” you said, with an icy smile. “But I guess I couldn’t expect anything else from someone whose only virtue is his last name.”

The councilman looked at you, surprised by your bravery, and then snorted before turning to leave, muttering something unintelligible and spilling half of his glass of wine on the floor.

When you were alone again, the air was still tense, your fists still clenched at your sides. Viktor finally let out a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment.

“You shouldn’t have… faced him,” he said softly. “I’m used to his usual nonsense.”

You looked at him with a determined expression.

“And you shouldn’t bear that in silence. No one deserves to be treated like that, especially you. They should lick your shoes, thanks to you this city really became the city of progress. You shouldn’t have to get used to it, Viktor.” You intertwined your hand with his, like an instinct you couldn’t ignore.

He looked down at their intertwined hands. He could feel the warmth of your touch breaking through the cold barrier he had built up over the years.

“I don’t believe his words, they’re irrelevant to me,” he finally admitted, his voice laced with honesty.

You gently squeezed his hand, forcing him to look at you.

“Then stand up for yourself, because you know what I believe? I believe you’re more than just a brilliant brain, Viktor. You’re not just a man with a cane or someone who comes from Zaun. You’re so much more than that, a genius, a visionary. There’s so much about you that’s amazing besides your wit.”

Viktor let out a short, dry laugh, but there was a spark of something else in his expression. Maybe gratitude, maybe something deeper that he didn’t dare name yet.

“You’re… persistent,” he said, with a slight smile that quickly faded as he looked back into your eyes. “But I don’t understand why.”

You tilted your head, confused.

“Why, what?”

Viktor looked away, unsure of how to continue, but he knew the words were already on the edge of his lips, and he couldn’t turn back.

“Why do you care so much about me? Why are you still here, by my side, despite everything. Helping me with everything, always taking care of me, looking at me as if there was nothing more interesting than me when I talk to you…even now.”

You looked at him for a long moment with a huge blush caught in your cheeks, and then, with a warmth in your voice that almost disarmed him, you answered, “Because I see you, Viktor. I see who you really are, and… I care about you. Much more than I should.”

The world seemed to stop in that instant. Viktor swallowed, feeling the air grow heavier, but also clearer at the same time.

“Y/N…” His voice was a whisper, as if he was taste out your name in a different, more intimate context that even he didn’t know about.

Their eyes met again, and this time, Viktor didn't look away, just watching your eyes sparkle and your pupils widen, it warmed his heart to know it was because you were looking at him.

"I should tell you now, but well…it's something new."

You smile softly, giving him some relief.

"You don't need to be good at it. Just tell me what you feel."

Viktor took a deep breath, as if he was preparing for a leap he had feared for a long time.

"I admire you. Not just for your intelligence or your ability to put up with my…quirks. But because you make me feel different…alive. With you, I don't feel alone. With you, I feel like…I can be something more."

His words were clumsy, but the sincerity in them was undeniable.

“And I think… I feel something really deep for you, Y/N.”

The silence that followed was overwhelming, but not because you were hesitating. But because you were taking in each word, feeling them deeply. Slowly, a smile spread across your face, and with a determined step, you closed the distance between you.

“That’s good, Viktor,” you whispered, leaning in just enough for him to hear each word clearly. “Because I’m already in love with you.”

Viktor looked at you, a flash of something soft and warm crossing his eyes.

“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice almost a whispered gasp. Despite everything he believed made him unworthy, you always saw him as something more.

The air seemed to vibrate between you, charged with an energy neither of you could explain but both of you understood. As the lights of Piltover continued to shine in the distance, the two of them towered over high society, standing together in a pure, private moment.

Jayce, who had been watching the scene with a mix of satisfaction and pride, decided not to interrupt. Mel, at his side, looked at him with an arched eyebrow.

“Happy with your masterpiece?” she asked, taking a sip of her glass.

“More than I imagined,” Jayce replied, crossing his arms as a triumphant smile lit up his face. “Viktor deserved it, although he’ll probably hate me tomorrow.”

“Oh, I don’t think he’ll hate you,” Mel said, watching the couple. “Maybe he’ll even thank you… eventually.”

As the night progressed and the lights in the hall grew dimmer, you and Viktor remained close, away from the bustle of the rest of the guests. For the first time in a long time, Viktor wasn’t thinking about the Hexcore, or his work, or his body, or the expectations he had placed on himself.

At that moment, there were only the two of them, and that, for Viktor, was a discovery as fascinating as any scientific breakthrough.

[nochepsicodelica]

"Morning, doll," Toji greets, placing a kiss on the back of your head before scooting past you to grab a glass of water. He stops in his tracks, taking a second look at you as you stuff a random document back in its envelope. Your outfit looks very familiar.

"Hi, baby. Was just about to head to-- What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Toji comes closer, until he's standing right in front of you. He pulls on the taut, yet, stretchy material of your shirt and watches it snap right back into place, snug against your chest. Then, he tugs on the waistband of your light grey sweatpants, to see how neatly the hem of your shirt is tucked into them. There's no outline of the shirt on your thighs and when he walks behind you and takes a look at the back, there's no outline of the shirt on the butt part, either. He whistles, looking you up and down, absorbing the entirety of the sight you offer.

"You're dressed like me, pretty girl. Tell me you're gonna wear your black shoes."

"I'm gonna wear my black shoes."

"Oh fuuuck. You trying to kill me?" You smile when he comes up behind you, again, lingering, this time. His arms encircle your waist and his chin rests on your shoulder. "Where were you planning on going, without me, dressed like this?"

You laugh. "It's not like i'm going out in lingerie or something fancy looking. Nobody's gonna be giving me googly eyes. This is comfy clothing, 'cause i'm going to the store, not some formal event."

"Well, i'm giving you all types of googly eyes, right now, so you can't go." He emphasizes this by tightening his arms around you, his hold unbreakable, now.

"Baby," you groan.

"Ahh, too bad. You can't go, yet, and you can't go without me. Someone might snatch you up like a damn seagull." He grins at the deflated look on your face. "Mmm... look at that pout. You want a little kiss?" You huff, and turn your face away from Toji, luring a deep chuckle from him. "Ooh, you're so grumpy. You want a big kiss, huh?" You feel his head lift off your shoulder to peek at you on the other side, but again, you huff and turn your head in the other direction. He clicks his tongue at your stubbornness, an amused smirk adorning his face, regardless of your games.

This continues a couple more times, before finally, he wins. He shifts his strong hold around your waist to one arm and brings his free hand up to cup your jaw, so he can look at you without worrying about you turning your head, again.

"Feisty girl, I got you, now," he says, watching the smile unfolding on your face. Your giggles are music to his ears.

"That's not fair," you say, your voice strained as you try and fail to turn away from him, again.

"Yeah? Just like how it's not fair that you look better than me in my own outfit." Toji scoffs, releasing your jaw and returning his arm to it's previous position, around your waist. "I've been wearing that combination for years. This is the first time I see it on you and you have me sweating."

"Okay!" You laugh. "I'll go change my shirt or my pants. Just let me go to the store, please. Please!" You cry out, exaggeratedly.

"Nah, nah, no need to be so dramatic," Toji says, smirking when he feels your body trembling against him as you laugh. "It's too late for you to go change. You were just about to leave dressed like this, no?"

"Um... yeah, and then you said no. So, I have to plead my case, somehow. Can I try again?" You ask, giddily.

He sighs, heavily, like it'll kill him to give you another shot. "Sure, but who knows if i'll change my mind?"

"You love when I beg for things, don't you?"

"Absolutely, not. Well..." he hums.

"Ah, shut up," you say, pinching his arm. "Not like that you... you."

"See, now you're being mean, and that's not gonna help your case, at all."

"Wait, wait! I'm sorry. Look," you say, lifting his arm up to your lips with both of your hands and kissing the spot you pinched. "See? I'm sorry."

He takes half a step back, allowing you to turn and look at him.

"Say it to my face."

"I'm sorry," you say, quick and simple.

"Do it the right way."

"I'm sorry," you repeat, slower, this time.

"You must really not need to go to the store that bad. That's not right, either."

You can tell he's loving this, he's got that stupid smug grin on his face. He loves seeing you get it wrong knowing there's no right answer, because you feed into it and you get all frustrated. It's a rigged game.

"Baby! What do you want me to say? I said I was sorry, already."

"I don't know, doll. I don't think I should have to teach you how to apologize properly."

You sigh, and keep trying. "Do you want a hug?"

"Do I?" He asks, pushing you to keep going.

"Or a... a kiss? Lots of kisses?"

"Hm... do I want lots of kisses?" He asks himself, looking contemplative for a second. He never gives you an answer, and just goes back to waiting for you to get it right. You're starting to look like a kicked puppy, your pout returning as you think of what else you can offer him as an apology. You pull out one last card. If this isn't it, then you forfeit.

"Do you want my body?"

Toji sees your light flicker. It's not disappointment, but more like you're hoping something isn't true. Like you don't agree with what you just said. You've never been good at hiding your feelings. If you're happy or excited, you have this enormous, gorgeous smile on your face and your eyes shimmer like moonlight on the sea. If you're sad or feeling emotional, you don't like being seen. You turn away, hide your face in your hands, put your hood on—anything to hide your vulnerability. This, though, is just wrong. It's something he's never seen on you before and he doesn't want to keep seeing it.

"No. Not like that. Never like that. Fuck, doll. Jokes over, come here. I'll take that hug, now."

He envelops you in his arms. It's a tight embrace that brings you comfort through the love and warmth that radiates from it. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and caresses the back of it with one hand, while the other one rests on your back.

"You don't ever have to use your body as a way to make me feel better, or like you were implying before, as an apology. You hear me?"

You hum, affirmatively. "Yeah, I know, baby," you mumble, squeezing his side, to signal that you're okay and that your mood isn't drained.

"If we ever get into an actual fight—and that's not me saying we will—but if it ever happens, we're gonna talk it out properly, like the adults we are. No sex until things are fixed and we're on good terms, because I love the fuck out of you, doll. Shit doesn't feel right when you don't talk to me. Okay?"

"Okay. I love you, too, Toji," you respond.

He releases a soft breath through his nose and presses another kiss to the top of your head.

"You fucking inspire me, ma. I just... had to make that clear. There's no way i'd ever let you feel that way with me."

"I understand, baby," you assure, rubbing his back, to return the comfort.

"Okay, good. Now that we've tackled that, I guesss we can go to the store. You still wanna go, right?"

"Yeah, but can we go later?" You ask, lifting your head to look at him. "I just wanna lay in bed with you for a little while." You give him your most charming smile, despite the fact that it borders on looking sheepish, because you were the one who wanted to go to the store so badly, and now you're trying to delay the trip. "Please? Oh god, please! Pretty pleaaaase? For the love of all things good, baby, pleaseeee!" You cry out, exaggeratedly, like before.

"Oh my god..." Toji mutters, under his breath, utterly stunned by your acting. "You are literally the most dramatic thing ever. You know that?" He takes in the proud nod you offer and the confident "mhm!", with a dumb grin. "We can go back to bed, but only if those kisses you offered earlier are still valid."

"They are! I'll give you so many kisses," you explain, nodding with widened eyes, because you want him to believe you.

"Alright, alright. Give me one now, as proof. A big, juicy, wet kiss, right on my mouth."

You stand on your tippy toes and he meets you the rest of the way for what you intended to be a warm smooch, but instead turned out to be a feverish lip lock that made your insides feel like melted marshmallows. As always, one kiss is not enough. Toji saying he wants a single kiss is a trap. You know this already, and yet you walk into it every. single. time. His arms become vines that wrap around you and hold you steady while he indulges in as much of your sweet lips as he wants, or until you break into a giggle fit.

What broke you this time was the feeling of his tongue gliding over your lips, before he went back to sloppily kissing you. It was definitely the juicy wet kiss he asked for and eventually you had to pull away because you couldn't even try to kiss him back without laughing.

Your hand goes to his chest to keep some distance and for a solid minute or so, you can't look at him without cracking up.

"Alright," he says, a low rumble of a chuckle vibrating against your hand. "Let's go back to bed. Gimme all those kisses." He bends down slightly and scoops you up, waiting for you to wrap around him like a koala so he can start heading towards the room. "You look really fucking good in my clothes, ma. I'm gonna shamelessly ogle you all day. Even in public."

You smile against his neck and roll your eyes. "Yeah... remind me to never wear this combination again."

"Nah."

[shawtuzi]

thinkin’ of sheriff toji!

cw include: black coded!fem reader, toji is very sweet in this hehe, lots of fluff, premature ejaculation (he came in his pants while they were making out), size kink, breeding kink, oral f & m receiving, protected & unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, backshots, pussyjob, mating press

sfw

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who was the biggest n’ strongest man you’d ever met in all your days. standing at a whopping six three and well over two hundred pounds of pure handsomeness.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who always stopped by your booth at the farmers market on sunday’s, partaking in every homemade sweet treat you had to offer. ‘these cream puffs are almost as sweet as you, sugar’ he’d always say with a low chuckle, his heart relishing in the way you’d act so bashful afterwards.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who always helped you pack your booth up after the farmers market was closed. he’d do most of the work, insisting that a ‘pretty lady’ such as yourself shouldn’t be worried about such things when he’s around.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who smells of aftershave and on a rare occasion cinnamon! he’d always had a bit of an oral fixation so best believe he was always chewing on his favorite cinnamon gum.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who was elated when he found out you were unwed and not seeing anyone. the second he saw you selling your sweet lil pastries on that fateful sunday, he was already picturing how cute you’d look next to him.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who passes by your house every tuesday and friday morning on his morning runs. you always refilled your hummingbird feeders on those mornings so each time he passed by he had to say hello bc duh! as you converse with him you can’t help but notice how….nice and toned his body is, especially when he lifts his shirt up to wipe his sweat away! the happy trail that led into his sweats definitely had you curious but he didn’t need to know that.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who picked up a habit of calling you everything but your name. pretty girl, sugar, darlin’, peach, honeysuckle—you name it!! it didn’t bother you in the slightest especially with that low country drawl of his hehe.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who is flooredddd when you bring him lunch at the station. you looked breathtaking in your pretty pink sundress and matching kitten heels, he could’ve ate you up instead if he was being completely honest.

“now what do we have here?” toji chuckled, tipping his hate up to get a better look at you. you didn’t say anything but your toothy smile said more than enough for him. you sat the pink tupperware in front of him with shaky hands, giggling when he was quick to pull the top off.

“s’nothin’ special just some baked ziti i whipped up, i remember you saying it was your favorite when you were younger! n-not that i made it specifically for you of course, but i m-mean i certainly wouldn’t mind making you a-anything you wanted….”

as toji watched you babble he couldn’t help but let his lips lift into a smirk—were you….flustered?

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who picked up on your crush on him faster than it took you to even register it. after you brought him lunch he thought it was only fair that he treated you to dinner, granted he quite literally served you meat and potatoes bc let’s face it he’s still a man. that night he learned a bunch about you, securing his bond with you even more.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who finally grew a pair and asked you on a proper date. his ears were as red as your famous fried tomatoes, and he stumbled over his words but you said yes regardless with the biggest smile he’d ever seen you wear. although he was sure you liked him just as much as he liked you he couldn’t help but be shocked that you said yes!

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who took you to the fanciest restaurant in town, insisting that you get whatever your little heart desired. he was looking as handsome as ever in his formal jacket and button up shirt, and you looked liked the most darling doll in your pastel pink dress. you recalled him saying one time he absolutely adored you in the color pink, so pink on the first date was definitely a no brainer.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who finally bit the bullet and asked you to be his darling after your third date. you both shared a steamy kiss afterwards and as corny as it sounds one of your legs did lift up a tiny bit out of instinct when his lips smushed into yours <333

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who surprisingly takes you out dancing every other week. sure dinners and picnics are fun especially there’s a little making out but he believes this is where the intimacy lies.

nsfw

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who came in his pants the first time you two made out. it wasn’t his fault it rlly wasn’t!! it’s just the way you were grinding your hips into his lap as you tongues tangled together that he couldn’t help but bust a nut right then and there!

“a-agh f-fuck,” toji growled against your lips, his hands gripping harshly onto the plushness of your love handles. “y-you okay?” your voice was breathy and boarder line whiny as you inspected toji’s face for anything wrong. he grunted something about him being fine then buried his face in your neck, inhaling the sweet smell of your vanilla n caramel scented perfume. it wasn’t until you felt a sudden warmth against your panty clad pussy that you realized what the big man was so embarrassed about hehe.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who couldn’t help but slobber all over your pussy like a dog the first time he ate you out. you’d never known what pure ecstasy felt like until you felt toji’s plush lips wrap around your swollen clit.

“to-tojiiii!” you squealed, pink pedicured toes curling in pleasure when you felt toji’s tongue draw figure eights around your clit. pulled the skin above your clit up, spitting on the pink bud before sucking it back into his mouth. he’s pulled three orgasms out of you now and frighteningly enough he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping.

“stop—mmph, movin’” toji purred, throwing his arm over your stomach to keep you in place. his skillful tongue began to draw the letters of his name, a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest when your hips bucked upwards. “can ya guess what i’m spellin’ peach?” he asked spelling his name once more. just as he finished the dot on the ‘i’ you came with a loud scream of his name, your fluids soaking his chin and neck.

toji sloppily wiped his mouth with the back of his hands before moving himself up the bed to hover over you. “you’re so smart darlin’ i was spellin’ my name,” he chuckled, squishing your cheeks together before giving you a messy kiss, which you happily returned.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who can’t help but jerk off to the thought of you daily. he’d be minding his business on patrol until he’d see something that reminded him of you and from there it was over. god did he love eating your lil pussy till you cried, he liked it so much that even the mere thought had him popping a boner. almost every night he’d call you, panting and groaning into the phone as he beat his dick to your voice—it wouldn’t even have to be sexual, you talking about just anything had him leaking like a faucet.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji whose dick was as big as his heart. i’m talking eight and a half inches and so thick that the first time he showed it to you you were worried that he wouldn’t fit in your mouth/pussy. ‘don’ worry peach i’ll make it fit’ he said to you as he ran that fat tip over your glossed up lips.

“hah! s-shit pretty girl ‘yer takin’ it like a champ,” toji grinned, teeth clamping onto his bottom lip. you whimpered around his dick, spit dripping from your mouth and foaming up at the base creating the perfect mess. toji preferred his head sloppy and you delivered, the obscene noises of you choking around his cock sounded like music to his ears.

when toji cums he cums a lot….like a lot a lot. i mean look at the breeder balls on this man, he was bound to give you a mouthful—and he did!!

“take it all sweetness, swallow my cum like a good girl,” toji growled, caressing the bulge in your cheek. it was so much it began to drip from your mouth and onto his thighs but neither of you seemed to care. he tasted salty, but there was this tinge of sweetness to him that had you moaning like a bitch in heat. toji was shocked, yet extremely turned on when you whined for him to feed you more of his cum, your doe eyes looking as shiny as ever.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who almost shed tears the first time you two made love. he handled you as if you were the worlds most precious china, his calloused hands touching you ever softly with love laced in every squeeze have gave your body.

“s’good toji,” you mewled, tightening your legs around his slim waist. toji pressed his lips against yours, happily swallowing up every moan and whine you let out. his skillful hips slammed into yours, his hard stomach rubbing deliciously against your puffy clit. “such a good pussy. y’see darlin’? told you she’d be able to take me,” he slurred, groaning rather loudly when he heard you pussy squelch at a particularly hard thrust.

he used protection of course, but the thought of him being able to nut inside you had his orgasm approaching far sooner than he wanted to.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who made you squirt for the first time ever that same night, his eyes as wide as saucers as a fountain of your essence hit his lower stomach. you were utterly embarrassed, hiding your face in his pillows as you kicked your feet at him to not tease you. he did tease you, but it’s okay bc he thought that shit was so. fucking. hot.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who made it his mission to make you squirt every single time you two fooled around.

“c’mon sugar, where that special spot of yours eh?” toji hummed, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing against your most sensitive parts. he was knuckle deep inside your pussy, absolutely determined to get you to squirt on his fingers. you weren’t even too sure what he meant by your ‘special spot’ until his fingers bumped into that spongy area that had your eyes rolling back.

“ohh? right here huh? is that the spot peach?” he smirked, increasing the pressure of his fingers. your thighs began to tremble, drool slipping past your parted lips and onto your chin. “o-oh my goodness!” you squealed, hips pushing upwards when toji pressed roughly on your lower tummy. your thighs trembled violently as your release hit you like a truck, wave after wave of your cum soaking toji’s hand and wrist.

when you finished toji slapped your pussy followed by ‘atta fucking girl, my peach is so good f’me.’

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who has a habit of fucking you on top of his patrol car. he just can’t help himself!! especially when you’re all tipsy and handsy after your dates :(( it was supposed to be a one time thing but soon every other week he’d have you on top of car, panties around your ankles while he fucked you like a madman.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who fucked you on every surface of his house once you finally let him hit raw. you brought it up randomly one night that you had started taking birth control a few weeks prior and wanted to feel him, all of him.

“fuckkk honey,” toji hissed, pushing his hips forward one last time before releasing inside of you for the fourth time that night. your legs were practically jello, your hands holding onto the kitchen counter for dear life. you didn’t even know how you ended up from the living room to the kitchen, but you were in no place to do thinking rn sooo oh well!

you gasped when toji flipped your body around, strong arms lifting you off the ground. you weakly wrapped your legs around his waist, mewling when you felt his tip press snugly against your clit. “jesus you’re worse than the drugs i lock those sorry fuckers at the station up for,” toji grinned, gripping roughly onto your ass cheeks.

“d-don’t say stuff like that honey,” you sniffled, back arching when you felt the coolness of the wall against it. toji now had you pressed against the wall, his head tilted down, “a little to the left and—mmph, there we gooo.” your dropped open when toji slipped inside you once again, your walls hugging his dick tightly. you could feel him throbbing inside you, dick begging for yet another release.

“you’re relentless,” you hissed, manicured nails digging into his toned back. toji chuckled, flexing his back muscles to soothe the stings from your nails.

‘mmm only for you sugar’

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji whose become a serious fan of backshots ever since he got with you. you’re on the curvier side, giving him lots of soft to grip and slap to his hearts content. hearts form in his eyes every time he gets to see the beautiful recoil of your ass against his pelvis.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who develops a serious breeding kink the more he gets to fuck you raw. not only does the sight of his cum leaking from spent pussy draw something animalistic out of him, but he also thinks you’d make the prettiest mommy <33

“how pretty,” toji murmured to himself, pushing softly on your stomach. a flood of his cum dripped from your cunt, soiling the sheets beneath your trembling body. “y’er gonna make a such a pretty momma one day,” he spoke softly, rubbing his hands on the backs of your thighs before pushing them wayyy back.

“at this rate m’sure it’ll ha-happen soon,” your giggle was replaced with a moan when toji placed his cock between your folds, his hips drawing back before pushing forward. his tongue poked out to swipe over his bottom lip, a pool of drool forming on his tongue at the thought of knocking you up.

‘you think?’

[haveihitanerve]

The comments were usual. Frequent even. Bruce bore them all with a smile, either acting like a bored teenager forced to attend the events he had planned, or blushing, sculpting the Brucie persona before he had even reached his twenties. 

“Oh Brucie!!!” They would twitter at him, women and men alike, pawing at his arms, his shoulders, chest, some even boldly reaching for his ass, snaking an arm around him, pulling him closer. “You look delicious baby.” They’d murmur, pur, coo over him. 

Alfred would get rightfully angry over the comments, when Bruce told him, but after the anger led to nothing, Bruce stopped coming home with the stories. He just went to bed, showering off all the handprints and touches. 

And then Dick came along.

“Bruuuuuuuuuce!” The nine year old whined, hissing the ending syllable like a snake. “I wanna gooooo!!!” Bruce chuckled lightly, fixing his cuffs in the mirror. 

“I highly doubt it chum.” He murmured, glancing over at his ward, seated on the foot of his bed. Dick pouted, the full package; lip out and arms crossed, and Bruce laughed, walking over to grab his tie and ruffle the boys hair. 

“Its a boring Gala, bud. Not too exciting.” Dick huffed, watching as Bruce expertly wound the tie around his neck, swinging the sides over and through. 

“Its a pARty!” He pointed out. “And I wanna go.” Bruce hummed to show he was listening, buttoning up the bottom two buttons of his suit, before letting his hands drop to his side. 

He sighed. “Do you want to wear a suit?” Dick’s eyes sparked up with excitement before he wrinkled his nose. 

“Do I hafta?” He complained. Bruce laughed, turning to face him. 

“Yes. Its a formal event. Suit, or you’re not coming.” The threat of a suit made the words take a moment to sink in, but once they did Dick rocketeded across the room, flying into Bruce’s arms. 

“For real???” He squealed, all excitement and little kid energy. “Hell yeah!” He bolted out the door to his own room before Bruce could so much as open his mouth to chide “language.” 

The car ride over was a new level of annoyance Bruce didn't know existed, as Dick bounced around in his seat, eagerly looking out the window for the first glimpse of his first “real adult party”. Still, he couldn't help but smile at Dick's unbridled joy.  

Hank, Bruce’s chauffeur, bore all of it with a smile, regaling Dick with stories of picking up Bruce when he was a teenager, and all the college hell, while Dick cackled and Bruce rolled his eyes. But, then again, Hank had his own three kids at home, and was marginally more used to the watts of energy than Bruce was. 

“Here ya are Mr. Wayne.” Hank finally cut off all of Dick’s peppering questions about Bruce’s college stories, a relief, as Hank was really getting into the bad stuff, or in Dicks mind, the good stuff, and Bruce hopped out, opening the door for his son. “Thank you!” Dick twittered as he leapt out, waving. 

Hank chuckled, dipping his hat. “Of course Mr. Wayne, hope you have a fun night.” Dick grinned back, and it surprised Bruce that he was so okay with hank calling him “Wayne.” But, then again, his boy and the driver seemed to have an easier relationship. Bruce certainly wasn't going to call him out. 

It did something to him, flooded his body with something heavy and warm, to hear Dick be called “Wayne”. Maybe a primal thing, an old animal instinct, the need to claim and own and have Dick. Dick was his son, maybe not by blood, but by… everything and anything Dick allowed him to have. 

“B!” Dick chirped, already a few feet up the steps, a frown on his face as he looked back. Bruce realized he’d been lost in thought at the side of the road. 

“Coming chum.” He agreed quickly, hurrying to his wards side before the entered. 

“Woah.” Dick breathed, the second they breached the door, and Bruce silently agreed. Gala’s weren’t fun for a plethora of reasons, but they were always beautiful. 

Almost immediately though, camera’s swarmed him, not only flashes of light but also of sickeningly white teeth, too wide mouths, pale skin pawing for his attention. 

“Brucie, darling!!!” One man twittered, and they successfully separated them, dragging Bruce over to one gaggle of rich twats while a few others circled Dick. Dick seemed to be taking it remarkably well, nodding politely and smiling, shaking hands, but his eyes darted to Bruce every few seconds, questions in his eyes. 

“Excuse me-” Bruce brushed past his virus of people and forced his way beside Dick, kneeling so he was at eye level.

“Everything alright?” he murmured quietly, tucking Dick into his space, warding off others. He almost wanted to say “i told you so” but figured it’d only do more harm than good. Pointing it out when Dick was clearly overwhelmed would not be helpful, or nice in any capacity. 

Dick nodded, shoulders imperceptibly dropping in relief as he allowed himself to be caged by Bruce’s body. “Y-yeah. Fine. Better now.” Bruce let the unspoken words hang between them, “-that you’re here”, and nodded instead, standing. 

“Stay close.” he flicked his fingers and Dick obediently stepped closer, pushing into Bruce’s space with hardly a thought.

And, Bruce realized quietly, he didn't mind either. Having people in his space… touch had never been his thing, after his parents death. Especially not when that touch came from unsympathetic elites after his parents money. But with Dick… it was, easier. Nice. 

The rest of the night went by a little better, and Dick even stepped away a few feet, always close by, but straying enough that he wasn't hiding behind Bruce’s legs. In his shadow. It was then that it happened. 

“Oh aren’t you just beautiful.” The words came from Mrs. Braught, a well known widow with enough wealth to compete with the Drakes, if not Waynes. She was… known for her affinity to younger men, boys, really, and Bruce had only managed to not make the cut because he had known, as a boy, and avoided her, and wasn’t as “appealing” to her, due to his depression. 

Dick stiffened slightly at the words, but still offered her a smile, polite, as always. The reaction made Bruce relax marginally. He was okay, he was handling it, just like Bruce had. 

But… but Dick’s smile was strained, his shoulders inching near his ears, and there was a definite tilt to him, a lean away from Braught that was easy to miss. But not to Bruce. 

Before he knew what he was doing, Bruce was at his wards side- no, in front of him, shoving Dick behind his legs. Dick stumbled, lightly, at the sudden push, but quickly straightened, grabbing the back of Bruce’s coat. The trembling Bruce could feel through the fabric was enough to make him see red. 

The Brucie persona was gone, slipping off without a singe thought, fast enough that Bruce wondered for a fraction of a second if it had even been on when he had entered the Gala, and Bruce realized it wasn't just Dick’s hand trembling, but Bruce’s whole body. 

His fists curled, hard enough that his knuckles turned white, jaw clenched to the point where his teeth squeaked, entire body quivering with rage. 

Mrs. Braught glanced up, surprised, almost caught off guard even, as she realized Brucie Wayne wasn't there for a pleasant hello, but Bruce was there, a man- no, a father, furious at what was being said about his son. 

Bruce could hear, faintly, as though through water, people beginning to whisper, eyes wide as the elites gathered around, no one bold enough to step in, and no one truly believing Brucie would do anything. 

Bruce didn't care. Dick was his, and he would not allow the traumas of the past to repeat, though he had failed to stop him from being orphaned. No more. He vowed, hands fisting at his sides. He had failed Dick in the one, true way that mattered, keeping his family, but he would not fail him any other way. Not in the ways Bruce was failed. 

His hand began to move back on its own accord, when a tiny, stubborn hand caught it, grabbed his wrist. Bruce looked down in surprise to find Dick staring up him solemnly, shaking his head.

Before Bruce could say something, another woman, another widow Bruce recognized as Mrs. Kershaw, stepped forward, fire bright in her weathered eyes. 

“You go on and git out of here Gertrude, before I tar your hide.” She hissed, and Bruce recalled how her own daughter had been raped and murdered when she had been barely thirteen. Gertrude knew it too, and backed away, scurrying for the exit. Mrs. Kershaw made sure she left, eyes kind when she glanced at Bruce, a subtle nod of solidarity her only acknowledgement. 

Dick tugged on his hand, but Bruce ignored him, sending a viscous glare at anyone who dared step too close. 

“Dad.” Dicks voice was soft, so soft, but proud too, grateful. That finally dragged Bruce from his never ending anger, and he looked down. Down at those wide blue eyes, that head of messy black curls.

“Come on Dad.” Dick whispered quietly, eyes darting around nervously at all the people, the cameras, but always going back to Bruce. Meeting his eyes. 

Bruce bent down and scooped his son into his arms, uncaring of who saw, who cared. He blocked his son off from the world, heading for the exit, one of the waitstaff, Aisha, nodding at him to inform him Hank had been called. 

“Thanks Dad.” Dick murmured, face buried against Bruce’s neck, and Bruce’s arms tightened around him, heading out into the streets of Gotham with his son cradled to his chest. 

“I’ll always protect you chum.” He swore, and something in his heart lightened at the Justice he was doing for his son, but also for his younger self. “I will always protect you.” 

thanks to @frownyalfred and @astorianyxkings for the idea!

[monstersholygrail]

With the slow stroke of Demon Priests' cock driving you to insanity, you can't help but look down at his neck. His uniform askew and messy yet his collar still intact as he was so desperate to get inside you he didn’t even bother to take all his clothes off. As you tease the skin just under the collar, Demon Priest shivers, a low rumble moving through his throat in encouragement to keep going.

“Why is part of your formal wear called a collar? A little kinky for religion, l'd say," you moan as he continues his deep thrusts.

Demon Priest laughs into your own throat, his nose rubbing along your pulse point, almost purring at the sign of your vitality. "The collar symbolizes my calling to the Lord."

You think about that for a long moment that's promptly interrupt by the smooth glide of his length along your walls.

“Would you wear a collar for me?" You ask almost absentmindedly, not knowing the extent of the meaning your words hold for him.

A loud groan escapes him, his cock twitching inside of you before he picks up pace. His member now aiming to consume and posses. Your pleasure, your body, your very being. His claws grip at your waist, marking you and making his claim on your soul just as you have his.

You cry out, your pleasure shooting through your body and collecting in your core as your orgasm builds. Body arching up into his as you meet every deep plunge of his hips, you can’t help but dig your nails into his dark skin and draw him up into your inviting form. Demon Priest’s face darkens at the control you have over him, at the ease in which he simply bends to your will.

"I'd do anything for you, you only need ask," he rasps lowly through clenched teeth as he fucks up into you, not giving you a moment to breathe or think. All you can do is hold onto him and let him ride you through waves upon waves of ecstasy.

“P-please wear a collar for me. Want your devotion, love, please,” you whine, a blubbering mess. It’s all Demon Priest needs for that final cord of restraint to snap.

With a ferocious growl that has you jumping in your skin, Demon priest holds onto you tighter and pounds away at your pussy like a savage beast. Your bodies wetly slapping together, the sound overpowering your own moans and groans.

Your mind blurs with an overwhelming intensity as shocks spark through your already buzzing body. If Demon Priest wasn’t already a demon you’d swear he was acting like a man possessed by the way he was rutting into you.

Demon Priest worships every inch of your body, small whimpers leaving you as he caresses his cock bulging in your lower tummy. An apt reminder of how deeply he’s fucking you. Your pussy clamps down on his huge cock and he growls, somehow picking up his pace.

Your body jolts with every thrust but luckily Demon Priest is right there to slam you back down on his pulsating girth, balls slapping heavily against your clit over and over again till you erupt all over his length. Squeezing him and suffocating him with your gummy walls till he joins you in climax. Pumping countless spurts of cum into your eager cunt, your tummy distending with the amount of hot semen he spills inside of you.

Demon Priest’s worship of you doesn’t end there, not that it ever truly ends. He slumps on top of you, whispering endless praises and showering you in light tender kisses and gentle massages to help you through the aftershocks. Blessing you and thanking you for making him feel more than he ever could’ve imagined.

Yet he doesn’t properly show just how much you mean to him till a few days later he stands in front of you in his formal wear with you resting naked on your bed. He makes a whole show of undressing himself, baring himself to you completely.

All to reveal the small collar you had gotten him hiding underneath his clothes. The sight turns you on more than words can describe and you can’t control yourself as you pounce on him and drag his body on top of yours by the collar. Both of you more than ready to spend hours with his body being controlled by your every dark whim.

[fcthots]

No thoughts, just Jason being a simp. Jason who sees you in the most boxy pajamas and starts drooling. Jason who blushes while watching you snore. Jason whose heart starts pounding every time you tell him you love him, despite having been together for several years. Jason who not only loves you, is your best friend, and your boyfriend, but also who just has a literal crush on you. Jason who stutters when you smile at him. Jason who literally trips over his own two feet when he sees you in formal attire. Jason whose entire camera roll is pictures of you: some wholesome, some not so much.

Some of them are pictures you let him take of you when he's fucking your brains out. He has a secret folder for them. Pictures of his grip on your waist. Pictures of your nipples twisted in his fingers. Pictures of his hands on your ass. Pictures of your hands on yourself. Pictures of his hands holding your thighs open. Pictures of the bites he leaves on your thighs. And more more more pictures.

But then there's the pictures from after. There's the pictures of you asleep on his chest. The pictures of your legs tangled together. Pictures of you hiding your face in his neck. Pictures of you the next morning putting on clothes to walk out and go to the bathroom.

God forbid he remembers the photo of you wearing his boxers or he might just end up fucking you again.

[motomamita]

farmer!könig × female!reader

warnings: +18, smut, arranged marriage, breeding kink!

könig never thought that the love of his life would take so long to arrive, much less in such a small town where he lived and where everyone knew everyone. but yes, he just turned 30 he found himself totally alone, without a wife, girlfriend or even someone to fuck with without commitments.

being an only child, his parents rushed to find the right woman for him. they had to ensure that their legacy would continue and their lands would be passed down to their future grandchildren.

that's where you come in, also the only daughter of a couple of lumberjacks and with a long list of suitors. although you could choose any boy in the town, your parents quickly paired you with könig, who was the son of the wealthiest family in the place.

you didn't know könig personally but you had seen him from time to time on the streets driving his truck carrying fruits and vegetables to supply the businesses. you knew that he was older than you, not only in age but also in body. he always had a serious face and a look that forced you to lower your head because of how intimidating he was.

your families introduced you one day where they had lunch and talked about how beneficial it would be for both of you to get married. könig didn't contribute much, as he spent all that time looking at your breasts through your dress and biting his lip every time you dared to look into his eyes. neither you nor he spoke to each other.

after that, they organized a small wedding in the garden of könig's family and formalized the union between the two of you. you were now his wife and lived with him in a small house built by könig on his family land. however, the most important thing was missing, an heir.

you both knew that your families would not be calm until they saw you carrying his baby in your womb. that's why you and könig had to get closer to each other, both emotionally and physically. every time he came back from a long day of work, you would wait for him with a jug of fresh orange juice or even a beer. then you would prepare the shower for him, where könig would end up dragging you with him and you would shower together. he caressed your skin with excitement and you did the same but with a certain shyness. however, it never went any further, until now.

one afternoon you were harvesting vegetables from the garden until the presence of könig behind you caught your attention.

"it's time... for us to have a son."

könig was wearing his work shirt with a few buttons open and his blue jeans. he looked agitated, as if he needed you at that moment.

"könig... i, i don't know. i've never done it and i'm a little scared..."

you couldn't finish because könig knelt in front of you and grabbed your hips with his hands.

"please, please, let me fuck you. i can't wait any longer, my love, i need you.."

he begged with some pain in his voice, resting his head on your stomach and almost sobbing. his cock was throbbing inside his jeans and dripping with precum. your heart sank at seeing him so needy, so you accepted.

without wasting time, könig fucked you right there in his garden and on the ground, in a primitive way. your pussy took a while to get used to its size but soon the pain turned into pleasure. könig was on top of you, with your legs over his shoulders and his balls hitting your delicate skin.

"i knew this pussy was worth the wait... fuck, you're so tight."

könig kissed your legs, leaving a trace of his saliva and even lightly biting your skin, lost in pleasure. his grunts accompanied your moans and pleas for him to finish inside you as soon as possible, you were afraid that you would be discovered.

"these juicy tits, they're going to look even better when they're big and dripping with milk... are you going to carry my babies, huh? are you going to be a good mom?"

you nodded your head because your mouth couldn't let out anything but moans. könig increased his thrusts, fucking deep inside you until he filled you with his thick semen.

he gently lay down on top of you, careful not to crush you until his orgasm passed. he carefully pulled out of you, caressing your legs and putting the cum that came out back in with his fingers.

"i have to make sure it catch, mommy."