#sneaky tickles

[allnightstay]

~* Dream Storytime *~

So, I just had this dream and felt I HAD to share it with you.

TW: sneaky bellybutton tickles >.<

- I'm basically at a theme park designed to make you feel like you're visiting Hawaii or something.

~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~

My mom and I were just finishing up doing something and met up with my dad and brother

- (I don't even have a brother in real life lmao but he's like 16 in my dream)

We were walking together until this brother of mine decided to head a different direction than where my parents were heading. Not wanting him to go alone, I decided to walk with him instead. We end up at some ride where it required us to take an elevator to get to the main attraction. There's a group of really cute looking guys ahead of us in line.

We all get on the elevator, but of course with my dreams being as random as they typically are, my brother and I get somewhat separated in this elevator we're in. I end being close to the door with those good looking guys right behind me, so packed in and close that I can feel the shirt of one of them on my back (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠).

As the elevator is going, it does some crazy bump that made us all shuffle, causing me to lean back heavily on the guy right behind me. I give the most shy apologetic over-the-shoulder look up at this guy saying sorry (blushing ofc). He smiles down at me and doesn't say anything.

*Next thing I know* I feel a hand sneakily touch and scratch at my tummy (mind you, I'm wearing a crop top in this dream) but when I look, I don't see anyone. Thinking I was maybe imagining it, I don't look behind me or anything.

*Then* I feel a finger lightly scratch at the outer edge of my bellybutton, causing me to hold in the biggest giggle ever. I was too embarrassed to even look at the guy behind me knowing it was definitely him. Instead, I look to see if anyone else noticed, and at my brother who gives me this "what are you looking at??" face.

We get off the elevator, and are at a ride that resembles a Titanic-like ship. Those guys go their own way and so do my brother and I. I couldn't stop thinking about what just happened and even more so that I wasn't even mad about it (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~

Andddd yeah that's pretty much the dream I had because I was woken up due to my alarm going off.

What's crazy is I VERY RARELY have tk dreams, so this totally took me by surprise. Kinda wanted to fall back asleep to see if I'd end up back there but here I am writing this instead xD

I hope you enjoyed ~

[infrequent-creator]

A Little Assistance ~

Summary - Vox needs a little help so he calls his assistant up to take care of his need.

A/N: I don't believe vox's assistant has a name so I'm gonna have Vox call him the name "Sharkbait" 🤭((Also Cutie, Baby boy & various other teasy nicknames))

<3

"Ah- fucking shit! Owowowow!" Vox cursed under his breath. He has spilled coffee on the floor around his chair on the wiring that surrounded his seats.

While they weren't parts of his body, he still was connected to them, like the roots on a tree. So when things happened to them like being stepped on or burned with hot coffee, it does hurt him a bit. He sighed looking around somewhat urgently for something to wipe up the now cooled sticky liquid off his attachment cords.

Nothing... damnit.

He signed, pinching the bridge of where his nose would be. He looked down at his wrist, pressing a button.

Ring...Ring...Ri-

"H-Hello.. Mr. Vox, S-Sir, do you need me?" The face of his personal assistant Sharkbait popping up on the small screen. Stammering like always. Always looking a little flustered in a way that Vox couldn't help but find adorable. He cleared his throat from the distracting thought.

"Yes of course. Why else would I call you?"

"O-Oh I'm sorry S-Sir I didn't mean--" the shark stammered out an apology before Vox cut him off.

"Stop, I don't have all day. Bring some papertowels and warm water to my production room. A cup of coffee spilled on my wiring." He brushed off the lad's apology, trying to get this icky feeling off his wiring fast.

"R-Right! Yes sir!" With that, Vox hung up. He sighed again.

~

A minute or so passes before there's a knock at Vox's door. He waves his hand, an electric current hitting the door 's button panel, causing it to slide open for his guest. There he was. Sharkbait carrying a cloth & a small bucket with water. His feet moving quickly as his king tail swished behind him.

"Bout time you showed up, I'm sticky as hell over here." The overlord groaned as the annoying feeling on his cables. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"R-Right, yes Sir, I'm so sorry." He nodded quickly, kneeling beside Vox's chair. He dipped the cloth in the water a little, squeezing it to get the extra water out, then began making quick work of the dark brown coffee stains.

Vox could feel his touches just a little, they felt faint but it almost felt good. Like getting a head massage almost. Vox leaned back in a sigh, his back resting completely against the chair as he relaxed. His light blue claws tapping, gently and rhythmically as the cleaning continued.

After a moment, Vox noticed something thumping gently against his leg. Also some quiet mumbling from Sharkbait. The TV man opened his eyes to see Sharkbait's tail was the thing gently hitting Vox's leg like a happy dog. The sharkboy's were locked on the floor as he mumbled to himself.

"Now, tell me Sharkbait, what are you mumbling about? Are you perhaps embarrassed that you have to clean up my mess?" Vox's hand slowly reaches down toward's his assistant's tail. The young man turned, opening his mouth to deny his boss's words but a gasp was ripped from his chest before he got the chance.

"Or are you embarrassed that this cute little tail is giving you away?~" Vox's hand quickly took the tail in his hand before it could wiggle away with his assistant's movement. The TV's voice purred as he gently held the tail on his lap, petting it slowly. He could still feel the muscle wanting to still wag even now.

"M-Misteheher V-Vohox! Please be c-cahahreful!" The shark demon quickly broke into anxious bubbly giggles, dropping the cloth to reach for his tail slowly.

"Careful? I am being careful. You think I'd hurt my cute little assistant's tail? What do you take me for, a monster?" Vox looked down at him with an eyebrow arched, a wicked grin spread across his screen.

"N-Nohohohoho! S-Sihihir my tail ihihis sensa-AHAha!" The adorable creature now on his side, curled up like a cat, kicking his feet in laughter.

"Aw is this tail sensitive, little pup? How cute~" Vox's claws now raking gently downward towards the end of his tail.

Sharkbait's face explodes into bright blue blush as he hid his face behind his hands, squealing and gently tugging on his tail. Vox decided his poor little tail had had enough, but the rest of him? Not a chance~

While Sharkbait wasn't looking, the overlord grabbed his little pup around the waist , guiding him onto his lap. The older demon's fingers touching from the slenderness of his assistant's waist.

The tv man snapped his fingers , making a wire slither to life, wrapping around his assistant's wrists holding them above his head, causing him to yelp. He was truly helpless and exposed right now.

"Cute little giggles you got there, pup. Let's see what happens when I use my claws here~" Vox's bright blue claws gently scratched at Sharkbait's sides and tummy at the same time.

The media demon's fingers leaving no spot on his middle untickled , making the little shark squeal, snort, and laugh. The little shark holding nothing back. He couldn't see it, but Vox was smiling at him.

"So cute~" Vox thought, letting his gentle tickles continue. He's always grateful for his little assistant.

END !

[switchypanic]

100 Follower Special Preview

The lights flickered, the sound of screeching radio filling the air, accompanied by something entirely different.

Giggling, pure and hysterical.

Alastor lurched forwards, hands latched onto Vox's wrists as he tried to lean forward and away from the other demon, who held him firmly against his chest. "Rehehehehelease me at ohohohohonce!" The usually composed overlord was a mess, face tinted a bright shade of red, eyes crinkled with mirth as another wave of snickers shook his frame. "Shihihihihihihit!"

Vox chuckled, leaning forward to croon into Alastor's ear, which immediately flicked at the feeling of the other's warm breath. "What's the matter, old man? Too ticklish?" He sang, smirk widening. "What would the public think, knowing the famed Radio Demon is so...sensitive..." He growled the last part, low and teasing, resulting in a shriek of microphone feedback from Alastor. "Perhaps I should turn on some of my cameras, hm? I doubt you could focus on messing with them while your giggling so hard. I could let all of Hell know just how much of a ticklish little-"

Vox blinked, pulled from his daydream by a raised brow from Velvette. "Vox, are you listening to me? This is important shit! I need to make sure you're on top of the advertisements for my new collection if we are going to see any substantial sales!"

Vox cleared his throat, trying to urge his screen to COOL THE FUCK DOWN before his flusteredness became obvious. "Apologies, I seem to have gotten distracted. You were saying, my sweet?"

[dreamingticklee]

what do you mean one of my irl friends that knows i like being tickled has now converted to knismo and hopped on the tickling train as a ler and is excited he gets to learn how to wreck me?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN

[xsezzie]

Under Threat

Oopsie... more Kavetham with inspiration from cute anon hehe~

Work is kicking my butt lately so I have had less creativity flowing through me when it comes to proper fics, I apologise!

Warnings: It’s a tickle fic???

______________________________________________________________

Summertime in Sumeru meant hot and humid temperatures. Most city dwellers would flock to the nearby lakes or Port Ormos to cool off. All except the Scribe, who was a serial napper and ‘I am going to stay indoors’ when it came to this type of weather. Though, his roommate Kaveh was also suffering due to the extreme temperatures, having shed most of his outfit off at this point and spread himself across the couch, his legs and feet invading Alhaitham’s personal space, who in retaliation also laid across from him and placed his own feet in Kaveh’s lap.

It was no secret to a select few in Sumeru that there was something more between them, but they are both too stubborn to admit it.

“This position is making me feel hotter… get your legs off me…” Kaveh whined, nudging at Alhaitham’s feet in his lap.

“I am just returning the favour, seeing as you sprawled yourself out over me first.”

“You are a pain…”

“A pain you continue to be affectionate with?” Alhaitham smirked as Kaveh gave him the middle finger lazily, covering his pink face with his other hand.

The Scribe chuckled to himself and gently squeezed Kaveh’s ankle, meaning for it to be a gentle gesture. That is until the blond shrieked and kicked his leg into Alhaitham’s chest.

“W-What was that for!? I… don’t do that!!” The architect sat up in a huff, his face now red as he pouted.

“Huh…? Is that… not supposed to be affectionate…? I… oh.” Alhaitham, having caught on, began to scribble his fingers slowly over Kaveh’s soft ankles.

“H-Hey! Aaaahhh!!! S-Stahahahahaap!!!” The blond’s reaction was immediate, throwing himself back onto the couch, squealing and giggling, trying to kick Alhaitham. “Y-You know better than t-to tihihickle meehehehehee!!!”

“Ah, but I have never tested this spot before… I know your feet are ticklish though.” Alhaitham teases, he gets a tighter grip on Kaveh’s ankle and traces his nails along the soft soles. The sound Kaveh made could have possibly shattered a window, and it certainly caused Mehrak to jump up from its spot by the door, making a little angry face at Alhaitham.

“Look your weird toolbox is mad, be quiet or the neighbours will hear us~” 

“A-ALHAITHAAAHAHAHAHAM!!!!” Kaveh squirmed and kicked his legs as the assault on his soles and ankles continued, if he wasn’t already feeling the heat from the weather then he was definitely feeling it now. His face red with embarrassment and laughter, and his legs were in a firm trap, Alhaitham having wrapped his own around them to keep him in place.

“Whhhheeheheheeheheyyyyyyyy!!! MEHRAK HEHEHEHEELLLPP!!”

The poor toolbox was confused, looking back and forth between the two, eventually deciding that nothing was needed doing and it reverted back to its sleep-state. “Heh, looks like it doesn’t think you’re under any threat.” Alhaitham continued to spider his fingers along Kaveh’s soles.

“I AM UNDER THREAT! I AM UNDER THREEEAHAHAHAHAHT!!!”

Kaveh began jerking his entire body to try and escape the younger man's grip to no avail, picking up a pillow instead and smacking him with it while the ticklish sensations continued to travel up his legs from his feet. It was becoming too unbearable and he was getting desperate, why did his feet have to be so sensitive? Stupid Alhaitham with his stupid smirk on his face and his stupid strength because he secretly isn’t a feeble scholar…

Kaveh made a squeaking sound as Alhaitham focused on his arches, “NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHEERREEE!!! F-Fuck off you ass!!” Through his tears of laughter the older genius finally realised he could start to tickle Alhaitham’s feet in return as they were right there wrapped around him. 

“T-Take this!” Kaveh weakly began to scribble the scribe’s soles in return, earning a soft chuckle from the younger man.

“Quihit that~” Alhaitham’s feet weren’t as ticklish as Kaveh but he could feel his grip loosening on his senior.

“N-No! Stop tickling me and I-I will stop tickling you!” Kaveh huffed, weakly trying to retaliate. He then suddenly had a wonderful idea… “Mehrak! Mehrak I am under threat! Get Alhaitham for me!” Kaveh pleaded with his toolbox companion who was idle on the floor, it perked up upon hearing its name called and made a curious emote on its small screen. “Mehrak grab his hands!”

Alhaitham found himself quickly restrained by Mehrak’s telekinetic abilities, leaving him highly vulnerable, “K-Kaveh… What is this? Don’t… Don’t even think about it….” 

“Don’t even think about what?”

“I am not falling for that… Do. Not. Tickle. Me.” Alhaitham tried to sound serious but his little smile was giving it away. Kaveh knows Alhaitham can be more ticklish when he is unable to stop it, so now was the perfect opportunity.

“Ah sorry my age must be affecting my hearing!” Kaveh teased before gently scritching the underside of Alhaitham’s toes. He immediately lets out a half covered snort and can’t help but kick his legs softly, “K-Kaveh! Pff- hnng- ugh stahap!” A soft squeak comes out as Alhaitham feels himself getting warmer, probably just from the hot summer day- definitely not the tickling. Kaveh’s nails were exploring other areas of his feet now and he couldn't hold it much longer, it also didn’t help that his arms were currently being restrained by his roommate's weird suitcase.

“K-Kaveheheh… s-stop that! Pff- Nohohoho!” The ticklish feeling on his arches now were becoming too much and a few soft squeaks escaped the younger man's mouth, he desperately tries to free his hands from Mehrak to cover his face but the telekinesis is strong.

“Nuh-uh Alhaitham~ No trying to escape now, not until I hear a proper laugh!” The blond softly rakes both of Alhaitham’s feet, the sensations traveling from his feet and through his whole body are too much and he finally gives in. 

“Pfffff- NAHAHAHAAA STAHAHAAAP!! Heheheheheh! Quihihit ihihit K-Kaveehhehehh!!!” The Scribe can only throw his head back and let out a raspy laugh with the occasional squeak, much to his dismay and Kaveh’s delight, “Aw is my junior a bit sensitive? Tickle tickle tickle!” The architect teases as he continues his ticklish attack on Alhaitham’s feet. 

“K-Kaveh I swear hahaha- Ahhh! D-Dohohohon’t!!” Alhaitham feels Kaveh’s fingers make their way up the back of his leg to his knees, “KAVEH Dooooon’t!!!!!”

“He finally gives in! I knew you loved it when I tickle you~”

“AHAHAHA! NOOOHHOHOHOO!”

“Ah-ha-hah- yes don’t you mean?” Kaveh smirks as he gets to see this softer and less restrained side of Alhaitham.

“AAAH!! OKAY OKAY!!! I GIVE I GIHIHIHIHIIIVE!!!” 

Kaveh seems to snap back into the reality that it is a really hot day, not realising how red and sweaty the two of them have become on the couch. He lets the scribe go and commands Mehrak to release his arms, of which Alhaitham immediately brings down to wipe his bangs out of his face. Kaveh can’t help but blush and think how good Alhaitham looks when his hair isn’t covering his eyes…

“Ah… heh sorry, but it was nice to have the upper hand in a tickle fight for once~” 

“You cheated… using your stupid toolbox…”

“Hey! Mehrak is not stupid! Don’t make me get it again so I can tickle you elsewhere!”

Alhaitham tossed one of the cushions at Kaveh’s head, “Not on a day like this… jeez I am sweating so much, I think a cold shower is in order… ugh.”

“Well, this is what you get for tickling me! You should have known better than to start this on a day like today…”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be so ticklish.”

“Hey!”

[wishitweresummer]

[unnamable-lee]

oh my gosh your art is so cute- if you're still doing requests maybe lee!Plasma Ball and ler!Caramel Cube from PPT2 please? :]

i had nothing to do for an hour and half in class soooo here we go :] !!

i hope i did them justice- this is my first time drawing either of them

[melanthanyx]

I wonder... what would happen if I held your arms above your head, holding your wrists with one of mine? My other hand slowly snaking under your shirt, lightly tracing my nails over your stomach and your sides? What if this went on for hours, no breaks, only light, quick tracing? I wonder.

Youuuu can keep wondering cause that, that is cheeky and eee we'll bonk you if you dare try!! 🙈😝

[chastiefoul]

you should be asleep, key word being should.

yet amidst the quiet night and the dimmed room, you couldn’t help but stare at your lover who’s peacefully asleep in your arms, his blond hair in disarray as it softly tickled your jaw, his breath steadily grazed the crook of your neck. the lines on his expression that was usually sharp and pointed now appeared to be a little softer.

a burst of fondness resided within your chest, like waves crashing to the shore; again and again. as it keeps coming back, with no hints of stopping. loving nanami kento was the easiest thing you have ever done. and it’s not a moment where it makes the world stopped for a second, it’s always more like a yearning—a longing. a feeling as if it will never be enough, even if you decided to love the man with your entire heart for your entire lifetime.

you planted a long kiss on his forehead, moving to his eyelids slowly, his nose, his cheeks. and when it didn’t calm the overwhelming sensation on your chest you did it all over again, this time making sure to not spare even a single inch. even then, the sleeping man didn’t seem to budge, though there’s a slightest smile on his lips.

little did you know, nanami had been awake since the second kiss you gave him. he’s a little sneaky you see, quietly basking in happiness that he thought could at least last for two eternities. the feather-light contact peppered across his face, the touch of your hand running along his hair, your soft hum of contentment. as delight trickled all over his chest, sleep was coming back to him dangerously fast.

although, he’ll be sure to remember to wake you up with the same method when morning came. you know, repaying the little taste of heaven you just gave him.

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ "𝐰-𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭!? " | childe, kaeya, heizou, lyney x gn!reader

ㅤ⤷ art cr

— it's time for revenge : teasing the teasing boys back.

󠀠󠀠ㅤ⤷ DARLINNGGG, GUESS WHOS BACK FROM JAILLLLL ... gn reader, but use of adj "pretty", est. relationship childe + heizou , alcohol 󠀠󠀠and suggestive mentions in kaeya's, fluff

— ...aka , flirting back makes them malfunction. ♥

"Darling, you're so pretty today~!"

There he is — that sly little shit you call so fondly by name. Childe snakes his arms firmly around your torso, snuggling into you from behind.

It doesn't take a genius to guess he's grinning like an idiot.

(Your idiot.)

"Hm? I don't think I heard you right, say it one more time?" Glancing back at him with a cheeky smile, you hear the rumble of his laughter.

The harbinger presses a sneaky, little sideways kiss against the base of your neck, tufts of his hair tickling your jaw. "You're seriously too kissable today. Totally unfair."

He's so stupidly in love that you can't help but tease him, just a little. Changing positions, you turn around to cup the man's face. "Well, if I'm that kissable today, I guess I'll just have to keep that look going, won't I? Shall we test how fair it really is?"

There's a beat of silence. You count six seconds before he even begins to utter a choked little: "...H-huh...?"

He's so red-faced you almost feel bad. His skin is growing warmer to the touch, and he shifts his eyes, suddenly becoming a whole lot less bold than usual. Trembling slightly, he brings up a hand to hide behind, his now-meek voice reaching you.

"H-hey, who taught you that...?"

"Ah? Speak up, I can't hear you~"

"...You- You know exactly what you're doing to my heart, don't you?" He looks at you accusingly, guiding one of your hands to his chest, burying it in the fabric of his clothes. "Archons, it's beating so fast-"

"This can't be healthy, so hurry up and cure me."

"Cure?"

"..1000 kisses should fix me right up."

"To meet you once more, isn't this fate?"

Eyes that contain galaxies — and you, raise to meet yours. Kaeya smiles in a smile that's all mirth, raising a glass to let it briefly shine in the light. He stands as you enter Angel's Share, pulling back a stool at the counter.

...He wasn't a stalker, was he? This hadn't been the first time you'd met, nor the second, nor third — you'd seen this archon-forsaken man a total of seven times. Each time, the two of you had shared a drink, which always started with "ah, just one today" to you, face flushed, leaning onto the counter and spilling whatever was on your mind that day in its entirety to the man who sat beside you, listening with the occasional chuckle.

Well, it wasn't as if you found the idea of "fate" and "Kaeya" unappealing.

"I suppose that wouldn't be unbelievable." You shrug as you take your seat. "Since I've been fortunate enough to encounter you again, drinks are on me."

"My, how generous." Kaeya gestures toward his empty glass shamelessly, resting his chin on his hand leisurely. "I think I'll take you up on that offer."

You beckon Charles closer, briefly whispering something in the man's ear. The bartender nods, walking off.

"How interesting, Charles seems to be mixing two drinks. A classic choice of wine, and your favorite..." A foxy grin stretches across the man's lips. "To think you've memorized my order. Should I write you off as someone staring at me nonstop or merely attentive?"

That smooth talker, with that insufferably charming smile — surely it was time for a little revenge?

"I'd prefer the former, but think what you want."

"Oh? I'm that handsome?" (Is it the dim lighting that makes Kaeya's face seem a little more red than usual? )

"You are."

You state it blatantly, as it is. As if Kaeya weren't expecting such a blunt answer, he suddenly clams up, coughing into his fist in a terribly not nonchalant manner. "You... don't tell me, have you already been drinking? What's with you today?"

"What, is speaking the truth suddenly such a surprise?"

"...You said all drinks were on you, yeah?"

Changing the topic? "Mhm, whatever you want."

It's hard to miss the way Kaeya's gaze burns.

"Then, round two at my place?"

"You're way too distracting, how am I supposed to get any work done when all I want to do is kiss you?"

And there it is, Heizou's twenty-second kiss of the day, this time pressed lightly on the bridge of your nose. Here you were, expecting the cool-headed man to be able to hold himself back during detective work.

You'd expected far too much.

"Heizou, you're the one who agreed to me accompanying you. No use in complaining now."

"Ah, that's where you're mistaken, love! Complaints are perfect excuses for kisses, you know." The twenty-third, on your left cheek, and the twenty-fourth, on the other.

"Heizou."

He tilts his head upwards, staring at you cheekily. "Hm?"

"Revenge." You cup his face. His pink cheeks are squishy, and you resist the urge to pinch them.

"...Pardo-"

You kiss him on the lips.

Heizou makes a noise of surprise, slightly jumping under your touch. He quivers for a moment, then goes stock still.

Seems like you've stumped the detective.

One kiss is all it took.

As you pull away, you're able to witness the absolute mess you've created. The Shikanoin Heizou's at an utter loss for words, his lips parted but words long gone. His cheeks, the tips of his ears, the back of his neck; he's so red-faced you can't help but laugh.

"My, that's all it took to render you speechless?"

There's a twinkle in his spring-green eyes as he gazes at you, shaking his head slyly. "Nope-! Not rendered speechless just yet- although..."

"...One hundred more kisses might do the trick?"

"A pretty flower for the prettiest of them all, mon chéri~"

A rainbow rose drawn from a sleeve, a pair of sly amethyst eyes, a cattish smile, and a smooth voice: Lyney greets you — or more so catches and stops you on the road. Something of a highway robbery, except this "thief" is more skilled in capturing hearts than valuables.

His hand snags onto your forearm, making no move to let go. "You player, don't tell me you say this to any pretty face that passes by?"

At the raise of your brow, Lyney feigns hurt. "You wound me, to assume such a thing... just how little trust you have for me?"

"Admittedly not a lot, Sir..." You scan him up and down with a scrutinizing gaze; You were sure you had seen the guy somewhere before. "...Magician?"

"Lyney."

"...Lyney, considering you've stopped me on the side of the road, it'd be daring to even call us acquaintances, no?"

"Acquaintances..." Lyney ponders the thought like it's enjoyable. "I can work with that~ Since we've been acquainted, won't you take the rose already?"

Partly due to his insistence, and partly due to pity, you accept the flower from his hold, not failing to notice the way his eyes twinkle. "Say," he begins, moving his hands back to his sides. "Do you happen to know what roses mean in the language of the flowers?"

You blink at him, rather unamused. "Sorry to disappoint, but I can't speak to plants."

Lyney, unexpectedly, grows silent. You see his cheeks puff outward, attempting to suppress a laugh. "I see," he speaks, breathily, like he is midway between a laugh and a word. "Love, beauty, perfection, wouldn't you say it fits you wonderfully?"

"...You have my thanks?"

Lyney's eyes are the shape of almonds, and when he smiles, the edges of them crinkle. "Not much of a charmer, are you?"

Is that a challenge?

"Then," you drop your voice a pitch lower, straightening your shoulders. "You have my thanks, mon beau." Combo attack: winking and blowing a kiss, you depart the scene as soon as possible for added mystery.

(You had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time you saw him.)

Now standing alone on the side of the street, eyes wide, finger playing with his side-swept bangs, utterly speechless and red-faced, Lyney's heart raced like it was to leap out of his chest.

"...Haha, what sort of magic is this?"

(a/n) this has been in drafts since like,, janurary. SOBBING.

look out for an announcement in a lil bit ^^

tags :

@manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima

[merrinla]

Portrait spamming

Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD

Tav / Dark Urge

normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.

combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!

stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.

Astarion

normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?

combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.

stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.

Karlach

normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!

combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.

stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.

Gale

normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.

stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.

Wyll

normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...

combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.

stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.

Lae'zel

normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.

combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.

stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.

Shadowheart

all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.

Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(

normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...

сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?

stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.

Jaheira

normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.

combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.

stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.

Minsc

normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?

сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.

stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.

Minthara

all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.

[wishitweresummer]

Tickle War (Sapnap x Quackity x KarlJacobs)

Word Count: 1810

Warnings: Domestic bliss, kissing (a small bit), and feet tickling.

Karl batted Sapnap's hands away from his waist for the third time this morning.

"You're going to mess up the omelette!", he giggled. Sapnap leaned back against the counter near the furnace and smirked at Karl. When his flustered fiancé wouldn't meet his eyes he laughed and watched his hands instead. Karl delicately folded the egg over to create a beautiful omelette. It was quickly transferred onto a plate and slid onto the counter behind Sapnap. He grinned as Karl switched off the furnace and trapped him against the counter with a hand at either side of his body.

"What?", Sapnap smiled with his eyes on Karl's lips. They trailed up to find his eyes narrowed. He relaxed back into the counter and closed his eyes as soft lips overtook his. Sapnap smiled into the kiss, humming at how sweet it felt. He wrapped his arms around Karl's neck and melted.

"You're a troublemaker...", Karl murmured into his lips and suddenly there were fingers pinching at his waist. Sapnap squeaked embarrassingly into the kiss and ripped his arms down. Suddenly, Karl had him pressed against the counter and tickly hands were crawling up his shirt.

"No!!", Sapnap cried out, giggling as he squirmed back into the counter and fumbled against the hands under his shirt. "Get out of there!".

    Sapnap was finally able to wrangle the evil fingers from his shirt and the two stood there giggling, bumping noses.

"Where's our ducky?", Karl smiled, pressing his forehead to Sapnap.

"Sleeping in wayyyy too late.".

     Sapnap and Karl sat at their dining table and shared the omelette as they chatted about their weeks. It was a soft quiet morning, probably from the lack of their loudest fiancé. The sun flooding into the house got brighter and brighter with no appearance from Quackity.

"We should go wake him.". Sapnap nodded at the words, then grinned when he looked up and noticed Karl's playful smirk.

"And how should we do that?".

"His favorite thing.", Karl lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers in the air. Sapnap nodded and bumped his chair back as he stood quickly.

"Let's clean up.", he giggled giddily.

                                            ~•~

     Quackity was sprawled under the covers dead asleep. It was adorable. His mouth was open and tiny snores were drifting out.

     The plan had been to jump on top of him together and tickle him, but they found him in a position that left a different tactic wide open. His bare foot was sticking out of the blanket. The two eyed each other excitedly before crouching on the floor at the bottom of the bed together, the foot between them. Sapnap wrapped his hand around the small ankle firmly and gave Karl a nod. Karl scribbled up the bare foot with his short colorful nails. Quackity shrieked, torn out of dreamland forcefully. Strained cackles filled the bedroom as he desperately tried to tug his ankle from Sapnap's strong grip.

"Fuck you!!!", he cried. Quackity had twisted the moment he had woken up and his thrashing had quickly tangled him in the blanket. Karl eyed the mess over the edge of the bed and started giggling. They had been planning on just waking him up this way, but now Quackity looked so pathetic and his sleepy laugh was cute.

"Get him!", Karl shouted as he jumped up and scrambled on top of his trapped fiancé. Quackity yelped as skinny fingers found his sides through the blanket.

"Guys please!!!". Sapnap laughed as he took over the foot tickling. He played with the wiggling toes as he watched Quackity fall into hysterical laughter. He bucked wildly as he tried to get Karl off of him, looking pretty helpless.

      Eventually, Quackity broke an arm free from the blanket burrito and grabbed a pillow. A loud whap sounded through the room as Quackity smacked Karl with it and sent him crashing to the side full of giggles. It distracted Sapnap long enough to loosen his grip and Quackity pulled himself free and out from under the covers. He grabbed another pillow and clung it to his chest as he gasped for his breath. Sapnap crawled on the bed and Karl sat up, pillow in hand. They all stared at each other, Quackity panting softly.

The air sizzled with a dangerous level of playfulness. Eyes flicked back and forth, scanning for movement. Sapnap eyed the pillow behind Quackity and the other two tensed. He huffed and dove for it. He was able to grab it and curl up around it, but the other two let out war cries as they pummeled him with their own pillows. He giggled wildly under the playfulness. He pushed himself up, fighting through the attacks.

"Karl how could you betray me!!!", Sapnap yelled and lifted his pillow in the air to whack Karl with. Quackity dropped his weapon and latched onto Sapnap's sides from behind. He squealed and dropped the pillow, collapsing backwards as laughter bubbled out of him. "Quackity!!". He pulled at the hands tickling into his sides. Lips brushed against his ear and a squeak flew out of his lips as he scrunched deeper into his fiancés arms.

"How could you wake me up like that?". The growl against his ear made him jolt and he sunk down as Quackity sunk his teeth softly where his shoulder met his neck.  The squeakiest giggles poured out of him as he twisted.

"Stop!!", he whined helplessly.

     Karl tossed the pillow aside and leaned in, coo'ing at Sapnap's frantic giggling as he scrambled with Quackity's sneaky fingers.

"It was his idea, by the way.", Karl lied easily. Sapnap gasped.

"It was not!!", he cried out, then yelped and leaned forward. Sapnap shook with a desperate sounding laugh as Quackity held him by his ribs and rubbed his thumbs in circles into the back of them. He made a strangled noise in protest as Quackity turned him and folded him down on the bed, brutally tickling into the back of his ribs. Sapnap cackled loudly and clawed at the blankets. "No!", was all he was able to peep out. He reached back to try and slap the tickling fingers away, but Quackity shoved his hand into his open underarm. Sapnap curled and twisted, wailing helplessly with laughter. The other two coo'ed as they could suddenly feel heat radiating from their red-faced blaze-hybrid.

Karl decided he wanted to help with the torture. He scooted in closer and started pinching at Sapnap's jumpy shoulders where they met his neck. Sapnap's survival instinct jerked his spine straight and he pushed himself up quickly. The other two were only confused for one moment before Sapnap wrapped both arms around Karl's middle and threw all his weight forward. Karl cried out as he was suddenly staring at the ceiling. A high pitched yelp was torn out of him as warm grabby hands attacked his waist.

"It was your idea and you threw me under the bus!!", Sapnap tried to sound angry, he did. But, his voice cracked twice and he couldn't stop giggling. Sapnap nosed up the shirt against Karl's squirmy tummy and pressed a raspberry directly into his bellybutton, still pinching teasingly at his hips. Karl twisted and shrieked, his laughter bubbling out through squeaks and hiccups as he squirmed and tried to pry Sapnap away from his middle. Another raspberry drew another loud cry.

Quackity leaned over Sapnap and watched Karl's face, feeling a little love-struck. Karl's laughter sounded happy and was beautiful. It entered his ears and sank into his heart. He looked down where Karl's legs were squirming underneath Sapnap's body and found an opening where he could latch above the knee. Karl screamed. Suddenly, Sapnap was tossed aside and hit the blankets with an 'oof'. The two scrambled on to their knees and suddenly all three were staring at each other again. Eyes darted. It seemed everyone was determined to not be completely ganged up on.

At the exact same time Sapnap pounced for Quackity, Quackity pounced for Karl. They were all dragged down together in a flurry of surprised laughter. Sapnap pushed himself up between them and tickled into each of their stomachs, they both squealed. With a rough tug from Karl, Sapnap found himself face down on the bed again. He scrambled against the blankets.

"Don't!!", he cried out as he was pressed back down and burst into anticipatory giggles. "Not both of you!!". He curled up in panic and screamed as four hands attacked his sides and hips.

Drowning in his own laughter, Sapnap desperately twisted himself onto his back and slapped at the attacking hands. Quackity and Karl leaned over him, their giggles sounded evil as they squeezed at his sides and dug into his ribs. Karl tugged up Sapnap's shirt and he yelled out in panic. Without thinking he reached up and grabbed a handful of each of their shirts, tugging them down forcefully on top of him. The tickling stopped as Quackity and Karl both did their best to not hurt Sapnap as they landed on him. Sapnap's giggles were frantic, squirming under the weight of his loves.

"Sap!", Quackity laughed as he carefully rolled off him and sat up, patting around the giggly blaze-hybrid. "Are you okay?". Sapnap nodded and grabbed onto Karl's hands as he also tried to make sure he was okay.

"We were supposed to be tickling him!!", he tugged Karl in closer, both of them giggling more as their noses brushed. "Help me tickle Quackity now or you're waking up tomorrow with cuffs around your wrists and my mouth on your tummy.". Karl's mouth dropped open at the threat and he pulled back, flushed.

"Okay okay okay.", he slipped out of Sapnap's hands and grabbed for Quackity, who jerked away with a squeak.

"Fuck, no!!!", he cried out as he was manhandled by Karl down onto the bed.

Now, Quackity found himself face down on the bed squirming desperately. The other two held him in place and tickled mercilessly into his wings and back. Quackity was in tears in no time, screaming with laughter.

     Karl's skinny fingers skittered through his wings and found a new muscle to tease every time they stopped. Sapnap's warm hands massaged dizzying circles into the back of his ribs and up at his shoulder blades. Quackity sputtered as he tried to beg, but would wheeze every time he tried to ask for mercy. His laughter cut out as Karl found a particularly sensitive muscle in his wing and he quietly convulsed against the bed, then a scream cut through the air. His cackles were deafening as he pounded and kicked against the bed desperately. Sapnap and Karl giggled at their helpless ducky.

"What did I do!!!", Quackity cried.

What had he even done? They could barely remember. Sleep in or something?

(Art by @kazenomegaminowanpisu )

[mo0nfairy]

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ BLOMSTERTID, PART FOUR !

summary :: Centuries-old mage, Y/N L/N, possesses magical abilities unheard of. A few citizens monopolize the remnants of magic they find, of which they now title “Hextech”. Hearsay of this power bleeds through all of Runeterra, until Piltover and Zaun find themselves in an anarchic war to obtain said power. Before Y/N can even blink, however, the humans neglect their plans when they realize they’d rather have Y/N instead.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 10.7k

content warnings :: SPOILERS! obsessive!vi, yandere!vi, yandere!jinx, yandere!viktor, gender neutral reader, alcohol/alcoholism, violence, suic1de attempt, & some s3xual themes (but nothing too explicit).

vi's yandere traits are . . .

ambitious, territorial, & controlling

⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆ ⸺ When the moon rises and the vibrant world eases, Vi always finds herself dreaming of the same thing. 

She imagines herself beneath a shower of softness, the sight of prickling tears or bruising flesh disintegrating. Even in the height of her childhood, her desires have always been adorned in thick blankets of fluff. Instead of toys and trinkets, it was hopping sheep and tickling feathers. Here, there would be no further need for clenched fists anymore, not when there is tender love. 

To feel the touch of gentle warmth — that is the haunting desire which paints her dreams.

It is a desire that is entirely foreign. A stranger, indubitably. Yet, this hunger is so immense, the mere thought of actually satiating this emaciation causes her stomach to sway. 

Even standing at a high point in Piltover, identity exposed to any lingering pedestrians, Vi does not feel at unease. Beside Mylo, Claggor, and her sister, Powder, the heist they frivolously forged in their heads fails to provoke any nerves within the young girl. If anything, she is fearless, as many have described her as. Not a worried bone in her body.

Slithering into the apartment of a Topsider came with its bumps in the road, but nothing that team could not swiftly smooth out. The mess of golden gadgetry scattered around is framed in an array of twisting cogs and sprockets. Books are spread through the expanse languidly, a few left open and dogeared to certain chapters. A wide chalkboard joins this scientist’s paradise, as well. Scribbled in white chalk are a myriad of mathematical equations she couldn’t decipher even if she cared enough to try. 

With a warning of concern to Powder (and a quick scolding to Mylo and Claggor), Vi sets out by herself and finds an office space nestled at the end of the hallway. The door is of a dark mahogany wood, carved with dark golden frames and intricacies. Oh, to be born so lucky and care for the appearance of a simple door. 

Within, there is a wider variety of books, scattered pages of blueprints, and even a lone, half-eaten sandwich. 

And right in the center of this mess is a figure. 

She cannot articulate how (or even why, for that matter), but the sight of them yanks the breath right from her chest. For the very first time in her tumultuous, violence-induced life, flight-or-fight has become a afterthought. Standing on the threshold, she freezes. 

Bent over the desk is a cloaked stranger. Their fingers, jagged and dark-hued, toy with some electric experiments. The subtle jingle of the jewels and adornments beneath their coat perfuse through the silence. A cloud, almost a halo, suffuses from their form in hues of purple and sapphire. All that is missing is a fluffy pair of wings and Vi would be positive she’s just stumbled upon an angel. 

When they turn over their shoulder to identify the sudden, yet sneaky entrance, she truly feels like she has become a statue.

They are pretty. Frighteningly so. Not in the same vein as the Piltover Pageant Queens, but something entirely beyond that. It is pure and unearthly; something soft, yet gut-wrenching. A whole other universal level of ‘pretty’, she’d describe. And as high and mighty as she carries herself, that stone-hard facade crumbles to baby pebbles when a subtle smile stretches on their serrated lips. 

They stand to their feet, abandoning their efforts with Topside science in favor of her. As they step closer to her, something unknown crawls about in her stomach. That hunger, so comfortable in its withering starvation that the mere scent of nourishment has it itching to sprint away. Still, she remains frozen in dazed wonder. 

It is only when they halt before Vi does the realization settle. She wished she had chased them through that sandstorm. Chased them through any storm, for that matter. She can no longer count on her fingers the instances in which she found her sister doodling that exact face among the walls of the Last Drop’s basement, her hands a permanent stain of old chalk and dry markers. It is simply a sloppy cartoon, she always assumed. But now, it is everything and so, so much more. 

“You may have a good heart, but you must not let it blind you.” 

Wind chimes. 

That is what the voice sounds like, accentuated by summer winds and sprinkling rain.

Wide-eyed like some stupid puppy-dog, all Vi can do is stare as they bring their hand up to her cheek. The heavenly warmth perfusing from their palm meets her flesh and in a flash, her vision is overwhelmed in darkness. Images flood through the shadows, all painting a picture of this stranger. 

They sit beside a river’s edge, peering into the water surface and scrutinizing their appearance in utter horror. Splotches of purple and blue cover their skin, contrasting in varying sizes and hues. Incomprehensible gibberish glitters across their exposed, sparkling skin. Black streaks of dirt and ash leak down their face with the seeping tears. Horrific perfection. 

“Mama…” They whimper, cracked and devastated.

A gasp leaps from Vi’s chest as she is finally granted clarity. 

Her feet fail her in awkward tumbles, before she inevitably falls to the ground. She finds herself to still remain in the office of this rich Topsider, but she is now in complete solitude. The stranger has vanished. Nothing remains in their departure besides the open window panes swinging with the wind. 

They leave the girl no room to digest the fact that every desire of softness and tender touch was just clutched in her palms. Not when it had abandoned Vi as quickly as it was granted to her.

This sense of abandonment festered inside of her for the remainder of an entire decade. 

Desperate endeavors at grasping a sliver of what you had gifted her all prove to be futile, no matter how ambitious the attempt. If anything, the sheer opposite had infested Vi’s life; a pendulum swung ahead to something amazing for only a second, just to remain stagnant on the opposing end for many agonizing years. 

Any effort at forcing that pendulum back, maybe even reforging the events of her memories, only serves as a blunt reminder of what she is now. A pit fighter, of all things; a savage spectacle. All her hands now know is violence.

Large streaks of dirt paint the expanse beneath her eyes. A smudge here, some dusted there — just the same as you, peering at yourself on the reflective surface of the river. And as devastating as the conclusion is, she has no choice but to accept this is what her life was made for.

The only remnant of peace Vi can grasp in this life is within the walls of her bedroom. As artificial as it may be, drinking herself sick and watching her poisoned brain carve fantasies into reality is the highlight of her day. 

Slumped over the thin mattress, she gapes in reverie at the blurry sights of you. Sometimes staring into the cracked mirror, a deity admiring the masterpiece of their appearance. Other times laying right beside her, gentle hands that cannot get enough of her flesh. Maybe even bludgeoning her fists into the punching bag, imagining some lovelorn, teenage-like fantasy of her defending your honor, to where you drown her in praise and gratitude. 

The peace is puny, pitifully so. Yet, is the only drop of fuel pushing her forward through this pathetic life.

And indulging in these visions is exactly Vi’s intentions as she returns to her room after another win in the pit. That is, until she is greeted by a sight that alone is enough to ruin her entire night. 

“Violet.” A smooth accent speaks.

Standing beside her door is a figure dressed in that familiar, irritating gold and blue uniform. Navy-blue hair is slicked back into a ruler-straight ponytail, framing her sharp face, paired with a gun almost as tall as her towering frame.

“Who are you? And how do you know my name?” 

She displays her badge like a shimmering trophy. 

“Commander Kiramman. Leader of House Kiramman. Address me with respect, or keep your mouth shut.” She speaks with direction, chin held high and chest puffed out. Classic Topsider.

“Still doesn’t answer my question.” 

“It’s written on your face.” 

Vi sighs out in defeat, entering her room and grasping a random, half-full bottle from the ground. She lands with an exhausted groan on her mattress.

“So, what is it now? Random search? Escort off the property? Or are you just here to waste my time?” 

The Kiramman follows suit and stands on the threshold, gaze stern as she glares at Vi. 

“I’m here for an investigation. I’m sure you and your people,” She spits out, “have heard of the attack against the council.”

“Yeah.” Vi snickers. “Just means we got a few less Pilties to worry about.” 

The last syllable barely parts from Vi’s mouth before she finds herself staring down the barrel of a gun. 

“I warned you, filthy rat.” 

She merely rolls her eyes at the aggressive gesture. Violence is a second home, after all. 

“Fine. I don’t know shit, alright? Bomb went off, rich people died — I know just as much as the other schmucks in this pit.”

With measured ease, the Kiramman sighs out a breath, folds her gun, and tosses it over her back. 

“We’re looking for Jinx, the criminal mastermind behind the attack. We’ve received several reports of her appearing around this area.” 

She folds her long arms over her chest. 

“Since you are the most prominent figure in this… pigsty, surely you have seen her.”

Vi sneers in response. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. I’m too busy trying to keep myself afloat down here. Not that you Topsiders know jack shit about that…” 

She then takes a hardy chug of the alcohol in her hands. As she drinks, the Commander slips her fingers into her back pocket. She unfolds a wad of paper, before presenting it to Vi. 

“Then, do you recognize this person?” 

Cheap whiskey spatters from Vi’s mouth when she registers the contents. Eyes blown wide, she goggles at the sight of your face sketched in almost exact clarity amongst the lined page. A near identical replication of the day she was blessed with the genuine sight. 

The bottle in her grasp is swiftly abandoned in favor of snagging the paper from the Enforcer. A grunt of disdain huffs from her, but Vi is too engrossed in you to care for the disrespect of the stranger in her room. Every intricacy and trace is done with such grace, she may as well have been holding your face in her palms. 

“We are under the impression they played a role in this attack-” 

“No!” Vi abruptly interrupts. “They wouldn’t- You don’t know anything about them…” 

“Well… Whoever is behind it, we believe they are after Hextech. We’re halting all trades until further notice.” 

The words may as well have been background noise to Vi. In one ear and out the other, inevitable when she is met with the most realistic depiction of you she’s seen in years. 

“If it interests you,” The Commander begins, shoveling another item from her pocket. “You seem to know more about Y/N than you let on. And we need as many bodies as we can get.” 

The gold glimmer of an Enforcer badge grasps Vi’s attention. Taunting her, almost. She slaps the badge out of her hands almost as quickly as it was revealed, the metal clinking with the several empty bottles left languidly in the corner. 

“Fuck. You.” Vi seethes, her grasp still latched to the paper in her hands. Possessive is her disposition.

Nonetheless, the Kiramman remains just as stone-cold as she was when she first waltzed into the room. She does not utter another word before she leaves Vi to herself, her offer still plaguing the silent air.

Vi’s back hits the mattress with a hard thump. Paper still in hand, she stares into the etchings as though you were truly here beside her. Terrifying perfection.

It is that very perfection that sat Viktor here in the first place.

Right beside his partner before the city's councilors, who all look down at him as though he were a muck-covered stray at their doorstep. 

Piltover has never been his home, nor has its people accepted him as. The only home he has ever been granted full claim of is you and the paradise that is the sanctuary you’ve cultivated. Now, that serenity has been robbed straight from his hands; he was granted a second of heaven and nothing more. And it is torturing him more than he is willing to admit. 

Viktor’s disposition alone does all the confessing necessary, however. Urgent conversations from the councilors are drowned out by the forlorn, cry-ridden mold seeping through his mind. What was once soul-crushing anguish is now simply nothing. A hollow numbness that permeates his entire being; a deep pit that could only be filled by you.

Some frantic entity within him desperately latches onto any loose thread of yours he can find, but any breath of you is merely a figment of his imagination. No matter how hard he may fight and thrash, the truth still bludgeons its bruised, bloody fists into his form: Viktor was not strong enough for you. And without you, there is nothing else in this life that interests him.

“If the Under-City possesses even a sliver of Hextech, this could only result in-” 

“It is not the Under-City you should concern yourselves with.” Viktor interrupts. “It is Jinx who is the problem.” He snarls her name like he is spitting out rotten food. 

All attention is forced to Viktor, but his gaze remains far and distant. His thoughts have lost themselves in an open field of torturous disarray. 

“How are you so positive this is the effort of a single individual?” Cassandra questions him. “How do you know this Jinx you speak of is not working with others?” 

A sneer itches at his lips. 

“That rat stole Hextech directly from my hands. She will stop at nothing if it is for the sake of Y/N.”

“You speak quite highly of this… Y/N.” Mel Medarda inserts herself into the discussion. “Seems to me they hold some imperative power. Am I mistaken?” 

“They are of utmost importance. Y/N is an absolute necessity.” 

Whether this imperativeness is for the sake of Piltover or himself, he isn’t sure. Still, he will lay his deepest feelings bare for all the Councilors to judge and belittle if it means bringing you home. Viktor is now miles beyond desperation and this new sensation frightens him to no end.

“Power that Jinx could want, perhaps?” 

Viktor shakes his head in disagreement. “No, no. These… feelings Jinx has for Y/N tread deeper.” 

“You propose Jinx is possibly in love with Y/N?” Mel inquires further. 

“I believe Jinx thinks she is in love with Y/N, but it is merely insincere. No, a creature like her will never amount to anything worthy enough for Y/N. They are simply too…” 

A soft fog drapes over his expression. 

“Resplendent. Brilliant a-and radiant. An angel we have been-” 

“I think what my partner is trying to say is… Jinx is a problem that needs to be promptly addressed.” Jayce rescues Viktor from the social-suicide he was seconds away from committing. 

This does not save him from the ghost of his memories plaguing his body, however.

In the clap of a second, Viktor has returned to the scene of the crime: within the whorls of your beloved sanctuary. That laughter, that haunting laughter, pervades through his memory like a thrashing storm. Perfusing into every corner of his mind, granting the tortured man no possible room for clarity. And so enchanted with the moment, Viktor does not attempt to fight the urges his body indulges in before his eyes are rolling back and he’s leaning in to kiss you. 

Before your lips can meet in a music-swelling moment of bliss, an abrupt explosion penetrates through the air. The romantic scene is brought to a record-scratching halt and instinctively, Viktor leaps to protect you from the sudden intrusion. A fraction of his mind curses him for not discerning the threat sooner. He’d be a stronger knight if his monarch weren’t so damn hypnotizing. 

The swarming fireworks are soon engulfed by the encroaching of smoke bombs, erupting the once breathtaking environment into hazy clouds of purple, pink, and blue. Viktor does not hesitate before sacrificing his body as your shield, tackling you to the ground and ensnaring himself around every inch of flesh he can reach. 

Just as he begins to drown you in relentless assurances of his protection, his devotion, how he’ll never abandon your side, the rampant chorus of footsteps then accelerate behind him. 

In a flash of blue braids, he is knocked out cold.

When Viktor wakes, he discovers himself motionless in a pool of his own blood. Through his dizzy gaze, the colorful smoke has eased and the sun has reached its highest point. A bitter silence has now overwhelmed the air. Nonetheless, the only thought present in his mind is you. 

He searches through the havoc to no avail, dragging himself to his stuttering legs to further search his surroundings. Limping forward, every nook and cranny present is scrutinized by this crazed man, prayers of finding your face drifting from parted lips. 

The frightened villagers have all scurried to their homes, barricading the doors and windows with any fragment of protection they can garner. Cowards, Viktor mutters to himself. There is no force in the universe that could restrain him from ensuring your safety. He would tear mountains asunder just to see a smile stretch on your face.

Abruptly, Cassandra Kiramman is what halts Viktor’s trip down memory lane. 

“We cannot ignore the possibility that Y/N may be working alongside Jinx. What proof do we have that tells us otherwise-?” 

The snap! of Viktor’s cane splitting into two permeates the room’s expanse when he slams it against the desk edge. 

“You keep their name out of your filthy mouth!” He spits out, wild and enraged. “There is no boundary I will not cross if it means being united with my spouse! Be it another bomb from that blue-haired mutt, I will persist through all-!” 

In the matter of a second, a violent force crashes into the room and several councilors are killed beneath its weight. 

Viktor, horrifyingly so, is almost among those several. Not with the desperate enforcement of Jayce Talis, who rushes him to the lab to treat his fatal injuries.

And this very lab is where Jayce has remained for the past several days he has lost count of. 

His partner remains stagnant in the mess of Hextech, opalescent strings of gooey sludge enmeshing his unconscious body. Meanwhile, Jayce scrutinizes every etch of Viktor’s journals, searching for some antidote that will wake him from this magic-induced coma. Though, the most redundant theme in these scientists’ notes is the etchings of the same face, sketched over and over again in an obsessive harmony. 

Jayce’s fingers drift among the surface of the page, dragging his gentle touch among the curves and shading of their paper face. He can understand why Viktor is so enthralled by them, as they are evidently, heart-wrenchingly beautiful. But, Jayce is not an easy man. Thus, he does not waver for the artistic works of a man head-over-heels. He’ll just choose to ignore the strange pit in his stomach every time he recalls Viktor using the word “spouse” in regards to them.

“We need to begin preparing ourselves for a full-scale invasion.” 

Caitlyn Kiramman announces herself abruptly as she struts into the room. 

Upon this intrusion, Jayce slams the journal shut as though he were caught by his mother sneaking sugar before dinner. He cannot put a finger on the reasoning behind such a culpable reaction, but he digresses to accommodate her presence, anyway. 

“You’ve taken this time to secure Hextech, I presume?” 

She rounds the corner, but her determined strides reach a sudden halt upon finding the sight of Viktor. For just a moment, there’s a glimmer of emotion in Caitlyn’s expression. Brief, albeit, but its existence had prevailed fleetingly, nonetheless. 

“He’s breathing. That’s… That’s all I know.” Jayce mutters.

Her weakened attitude is swiftly replaced by her habitual, stiff disposition. Chest and chin held high, she continues. 

“There is no use dwelling on these matters. Not when the Under-City is potentially planning another attack.”

Exhaustion getting the better of him, Jayce scoffs at her persisting suggestions, rubbing the ache in his temple.

“Cait, I already told you. I promised Viktor. You can’t just go down there, guns-a-blazing-!” 

“And I have told you, Jayce, this is no longer up for debate. Jinx has proved herself to be an extraordinary threat. Now, we have proper reason to believe Y/N is, too. It is absolutely imperative these threats are located and neutralized.” 

Caitlyn glares daggers as she awaits his response. Jayce has been rendered speechless, however. The hopeful plans he formed for this nation a decade ago have all crashed and burned in a violent matter of seconds. He has found himself at a complete loss, no successful direction on this plane to resort to. All due to this Jinx character. Now, potentially, this beautiful stranger, as well.

Stuck within his inner turmoil, Caitlyn perceives his silence as an answer. She turns her shoulder and takes a single step toward the door.

“Let me try talking to them.” 

This grasps her attention.

“You… You wish to speak to Y/N? Why?” 

A confession of what lies in Viktor’s journal bridges on his lips, but he halts the efforts of his honest tongue. 

“I, uh…” Jayce gulps nervously, but conceals the motion with a forced cough. “I believe I can crack through them. If I can talk to them, I may be able to predict Zaun’s next attack.”

Caitlyn merely gapes at him in utter bewilderment, stammering over herself before she can properly articulate her puzzled thoughts. 

“That is vacuous! Our knowledge of Jinx is weak, yes, but Y/N is an utter stranger! A monster, at that! You’d be throwing yourself into uncharted waters, Jayce, you cannot be-”

Her expression drops from scrunched confusion to bitter offense when she realizes the intent behind his lies. He refuses to meet her eye and maintains his vision to the glossy floors. Ashamed, but he will not admit such. 

“What will Miss Medarda think of that? Hmm?”

Her tone is low and cautionary. A gentle threat, subtly jabbing at her new privileges as a respected councilor member.

“It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. The sake of Piltover is most important.” 

The thinly-veiled lie provokes a sharp, dry laugh from Caitlyn. It is her final response before she promptly takes her leave.

Another powerful figure of the Upper-City has been claimed by this all-engrossing outsider. That being one of the closest friends she has ever known. This creature will surely claim more, unfortunately, but Caitlyn will not allow them to possess her. 

She will stop at nothing to bring this devil to their feet. No matter what it takes.

Down under, thundering music and flashing lights dance around Vi. Slumped over the ragged surface of the bar, the ache of alcohol hammers her messy mind. Her pockets are heavy with the coins she earned from another win in the pit, but her senses may as well have been melted to jelly with how much intoxication she has poisoned herself with. Just another night spent resorting to whatever means necessary to forget, the bartender knows all too well.

Tonight, however, another heavy-weight worry has been tossed onto the pile of thousands. 

“Me? An enforcer?” Vi chuckles at the prospect alone. “The peanut patrol can suck it, for all I care!” 

Another mouthful of liquor burns her throat as it descends. 

“That Piltie-bitch wouldn’t know Y/N if they punched her in her dumb face, heh!” 

Her bruised, calloused hand lazily grasps hold of her cheek, the very way you did all those years ago. A glance over to the busy dance floor and her evening intentions have found success. There you are, your cloaked figure like a sore thumb among the other partygoers; a scene so out of place, it is almost comical.

“Y/N…” 

With liquid courage working its wonders, she has an unbearable urge to shuffle over to you, collapse against your form, and pour her heart from her ribcage straight into your palms. The confession would be drunken and disgusting, stained in inky reverence and muddy worship. Yet, perhaps you’ll be so moved by this passionate declaration, you’ll let her drag you back to her room and-

“Sheesh, kid. Back at it again?” 

She’d let out a groan if her body had the energy to do so. 

Loris, a regular in the audience, sits himself beside her. Or, ‘Wannabe-Vander’, as she has jokingly titled him after one too many shots. 

“What’s ‘yer diagnosis this time, ‘ey? That ‘Y/N’ ‘yer still caught up on?” 

Her languid arm attempts to shove him away in her drunken state. Maybe sock him in the face for speaking of you so passively while she’s at it.

“Shut up… Dick…” 

“Yeah, yeah. Let���s get ‘ye home.” 

His arms lock under hers and lift, bringing Vi to her wobbly legs. Reluctantly, she follows his guide. Her eyes are locked to the fuzzy hallucination of you with every step out of the bar.

The sight of the flags with the enforcers insignia threaded into the fabric is a brutal reminder of life without you present. 

“Enforcer… Fucking joke…” 

The thought alone puts a nauseating taste on her tongue. Do Top-Siders really think they can cast out their own people, only to return and take their pick of the litter? Despite all the inevitable disappointment their behavior elicits, Vi still finds herself in the same insufferable fits of rage with every action they take. Every damn day it seems they test her patience. Now, they’ve taken one step too far, from military stomps to an all-too aggressive, annoying intrusion.

Vi splats face-first into the firm plush of her mattress. Loris speaks, most likely a farewell, but the rampant ringing in her aching head fails to discern his words. The door closes with a clunky click and just like every other night, Vi is all alone. The air may be hollow and heavy, but her mind is alive with the softness she only touched once. 

“Y/N…” 

If it is true, if you are really out there somewhere and not just a pretty figment of a teenager's wild imagination, she cannot decide how to feel. She is at an odd juxtaposition between an ecstatic light and a lonely darkness. All those isolated nights, drunken ramblings, and savage bar fights — why weren’t you there to stop her again? All she has known her entire life is pain, why can’t you mend it the way you did all those years ago?

Even after all this buzzing noise, those words still echo in perfect precision. 

“You may have a good heart, but you must not let it blind you.” 

And to this day, she hasn’t a clue how this adheres to her life. 

‘Good heart’ this, ‘good heart’ that. It is what the most imperative figures in her life have told her. You, however, were different. You were a warning, a feather-touched glimpse into the brutality of her future. Swarming in like a steel crane, bludgeoning the walls she’s spent her entire life forging brick-by-brick.

A strangled gasp dances into the silence when the revelation hits. 

These walls have blinded her. That is why you are not here beside her! You must have attempted plenty of times, but the sheer girth of these walls has drowned out any call of her name. Vi was far-too engrossed in maintaining a tough, take-no-shit disposition and neglecting her need for gentler things. Neglecting her need for you, wherever you may reside beyond these thick layers. And this epiphany is shattering.

The Enforcer badge abandoned in the corner of the room calls out to her. A symbol of power and privilege, just beyond her touch. What was once something that churned her stomach by just a mere thought has now transformed into a golden, glimmering opportunity.

That navy-haired Commander, whatever her name was, seemed to know you extensively. Far more than Vi is comfortable with. Maybe if she bites her tongue and wears the badge, she’ll know just as much. Maybe if she leaves this pit, she'll know more than anyone ever has. Maybe if she crosses the bridge, she’ll obtain the proper resources to track down the love of her life.

Maybe, if she joins the Enforcers, she can leave the pigs a breadcrumb trail away from you. Then, just maybe, she can return some of that softness you gave her.

If one thing is abundantly clear, blue and gold are not Vi’s colors. 

That is a coherent understatement Vi is acutely aware of now, standing beside the Piltie’s who destroyed her life as their equal. Here, they utilize what they call ‘The Grey’ as a weapon against the people of the Under-City. Green puffs of poison perfusing from every possible angle, the place she has titled home is now reminiscent of a battlefield. 

Every building drowns in the gas, mere figments of shapes beneath its thick haze. ‘WANTED’ posters of this ‘Jinx’ character are engulfed in this matter, too. Respected members of the Chem-Barons are now left in languid messes of bodies, some dead while others gag and cling to life. The people of the underground deserve to breathe, until one of them is a bomb-wielding maniac. 

“We’ll begin in the Lanes then down to the Slums. Remember: if there is a clear shot, you may open fire, but it is I who will deliver the final blow. No matter Jinx or Y/N. Understood?” 

A series of “Yes, Commander”’s are mere squeaks against the booming authority of Caitlyn Kiramman. With a Hextech-powered gun in hand, she confidently guides several Enforcers through the quiet city.

Vi, amongst the several, feverishly scrutinizes through the green gas for even a prick of you. She is no longer blind; the mask has finally been torn from her face. As she concluded, it is surely only a matter of time before you come barreling out of the smog and into her embrace, there to never part again.

It is when their team passes an alleyway that her attention is garnered. 

The space is overwhelmed in green fog, but through the silent murk is a noise. It is a quiet sound, like skittering paws. Restrained coughing, almost. That sound is not foreign to the Under-City, an expanse overwhelmed with disease and infection. For reasons Vi cannot decipher, though, this is different. Familiar, she could further detail. 

The others have continued countless paces forward as she stands and studies the intricacies of the sound. Classic Topsiders leaving the Zaunite in their dust, once again. Vi does not take the rare moment of Enforcer eyes off of her for granted, however, and ventures into the alleyway. 

The sounds that once allured her have now been overwhelmed by her own rampant breaths, intensified within the barriers of her gas mask. Hope has consistently preceded betrayal over the course of her life, so she does not dare let your name touch her tongue. It still resides in her chest, however, where you have always lived. Calling out for you with every thundering beat of her heart.

When Vi rounds a corner, something juts out through the poisonous clouds. Anxiety thrashes inside of her, but she does not dare to halt her efforts now. When she takes a single step closer, her entire world plummets. 

Hidden behind an array of old barrels is no other than you. 

And just like that, the war is over.

Guns stretching into red-painted arrows mending broken hearts. Gunpoint threats overcome with strong declarations of devotion. Gunpowder residue building to form dust bunnies of a home well-loved. Gunshots easing to soft breaths of tranquility on a gloomy morning. Gunmen’s savage hands healing through bandages to fur-soft touches. 

Salvation has found its way directly to her doorstep, wrapped in pretty bows of purple and blue. The war is finally over and Vi can barely tolerate the rush of rapture now pumping through her bloodstream. 

You’re huddled into a ball, nearly nude and nothing short of terrified. Puffs of purple and blue spark from your palms in your effort of summoning your powers, but the sudden surge in strength from before has now run dry. Your attempts at shielding your coughing fit is futile, as well, evident in the second presence now towering over you. And it takes every fibre inside her to restrain herself from tackling you like some feral, emaciated animal. 

It is fate, purely. A few chapters late, albeit, but finally inked down in all of its beautiful, annihilating colors. You gifted her wisdom many years ago. Now, it is her turn to utilize her own wisdom to protect your precious life.

“Oh, Sweetheart…” 

Vi is swift in ridding herself of her gas mask to place it over your head instead. The relief in your expression is immediate when you are finally granted a gasp of clean air. 

It does not go unnoticed by Vi, either. She hadn’t realized she had placed a hand on your bare shoulder, but feeling your muscles ease beneath her touch has her releasing a shaky breath she wasn’t aware she was choking on. As though this was normal; as though neither of you had spent a single day apart from each other's side. Partners until the end of time, she muses, your paths and hands woven together with the universe’ needle and thread. 

Her lover. The thought alone sends a hot tickle up her spine. Lovers. 

Vi suppresses the gags induced by the gas in her elbow, while her other hand caresses the skin she has only dreamt of touching. Any turmoil hurled her way is now a cake-walk with your touch beneath hers. 

So engrossed in the whorls of you, in fact, it is only now does she take further notice of other fractions of your physicality. Some vibrant smudges are written on your forehead. “KISS ME, JINX!” is drawn in a blaring demand. Beneath the beautiful face, now covered in a thick mask, is an adornment around your neck. “Property of JINX!”, a warning threatening others off claimed territory.

It is a revolting collage of obsession, one that informs her without words how Jinx is the only threat present here. It could never be you, the pinnacle of tranquility. Too perfect to ever force harm. This Jinx, however, is a different story.

The memories then strike like cold water. 

Powder’s insistence of “the stranger” being taken alongside Vander, despite Vi’s assurances that they are nothing more than a fictional fantasy (a territorial motive on her end, she’ll admit). The relentless collision of blue magic that took the lives of almost everyone she held close. The quiet hope that somehow, you’d persevere through the wreckage and mend the impossible wounds.

Then, there was the red-hot rage ensnaring around her every action. Violent hands that swore to never touch family have done exactly so. “You’re a jinx!” erupting from her throat before she can measure the consequences. The enraged paces away, abandoning the only family she had left in ash. Stumbling upon the pit, where Loris took her under his wing. The place she has resided in for an entire decade.

“Please…” 

And then, there was you. The essence of her wistful dreams; the only light present to protect her from the monsters under her bed. Now, plunging your hands into her chest and claiming her soul as yours, once and for all.

“Do not hurt me…” 

You may as well have clutched her heart in the process, too. The thick, gooey chunks of the red organ stuffed beneath your fingernails.

Placing harm on you will never be a possibility. Like an ocean without water, a galaxy without stars, a pair of hands without touch. It is a prospect that simply does not exist. And it kills her that you think it does.

“You think I wanna hurt you, baby?” 

As though she were approaching a feeble, wounded animal, Vi slowly shuffles closer to where you sit. Her arm slithers around your shoulder, your touch igniting a flurry of goosebumps down her flesh. 

The puny strength your body conjured to plead for your life is soon snuffed out. Your heavy vision droops and you fall unconscious, coincidentally landing against the chest of Vi. And of course, in typical Vi fashion, her mind reaches the conclusion of you doing such from the comfort you find in her embrace. Not a second more is wasted before she is scooping you into her strong arms. 

“Sweet thing… Nothing’s gonna hurt you…” 

She presses a kiss to your temple. Electric, warm bolts tickle her lips upon contact. 

“’Never gonna let you out of my sight again…” 

Bringing herself to her feet, Vi adjusts your position in her arms and sets off into the night. Eager to embark on this new chapter where she indulges in the sweetest blessing she’s ever received.

The twists and churns of your stomach is what welcomes you when you first awaken. Voices dance in an echoing synchronization, impossible to discern in your weakened state. Specks of your vision return in short spurts which reveal nothing more than swaying purple lights through a maze of darkness. 

“Aww, shucks, birdie! Just can’t stay away, can’t ‘ya?” 

The familiar tones have you thrashing about in a new state of adrenaline-induced clarity. You frantically search for those blue braids you know too well, but find no sign of the criminal mastermind. What you do find, however, is another figure rushing to your side. 

“Easy, Sweets. Just you and me here.” 

Violet sits beside where you lay and her hands are on you in record speed. The Enforcer uniform she has draped around your form does not protect you from her greedy touch, with her caressing any fraction of you she can clutch in an attempt at comfort.

“What a mess you have become, child. What would your father think seeing you in such disarray?” 

The sudden perfusion of a voice you have not heard in centuries yanks a sob from your chest. It is met with even more loving affections from the persistent presence beside you. 

“Why did you abandon me…?”

Vi gapes at you in response. Tears prick at her eyes and her bottom lip begins to wobble — sensations that have become strangers over the past several years. She doesn’t grant herself a moment to even consider what this “abandonment” is before she’s adorning you in fervent reassurances. 

“I…” She stammers. “I would never leave you behind! You’re the only reason I’ve stayed in this fucked-up city in the first place. I promise you, sweetheart, I’m not blind anymore.” 

The intensifying ache in your stomach drowns out her remaining words. It is then you realize this sudden illness poisoning your body must be at fault for the excessive blood intake during your stay in Jinx’s lair. It is surely the reason behind such painful visions, too.

Rest is an imperative necessity now, but you will not ease until you have returned to the safety of your sanctuary. And you will certainly not rest in the arms of the girl you have not thought of once in an entire decade. 

You can’t even grasp how you are supposed to confess how the “blindness” you spoke of was in relation to her father, not yourself. On the rare instances you leave the expanse of your sanctuary, you reserve a fraction of time to help outside citizens. Young Violet amidst her Piltover heist were among those citizens. It is only now do you realize the consequences of your kind actions.

The hushed pitter-patter of boots outside are soon met with the intrusion of a smooth tone. 

“Retreating down to the Slums? Makes sense for someone of your kind.” 

Vi’s immediate acknowledgment and panic tell you this is not another cruel trick your brain is forcing onto you. She then parts from your side, concealing a half-broken bottle behind her back before she faces the unwelcome visitors. Her figure passing through the crooked threshold is the last thing you see before you doze off, once again.

“Does it matter? I’m following orders, Commander, am I not?” 

A stable lie has always come easy to Vi. This is a tool she swiftly abuses in the heat of the moment, a skill that is more imperative now than ever before.

“Without your badge, I see?” The Kiramman fires back. 

“Heh, this is the problem with you Topsiders. You only look at shit from a surface level. Never had to dig your hands in the dirt like the rest of us.” 

Caitlyn’s fingers tighten around the gun swung over her shoulder. 

“Is that so?” She further challenges. 

“’The fuck else would it mean?” 

The Commander allows a silence to settle, stalking the nervous tics and twitches within the newest Enforcer. Soon to be former, but Caitlyn doesn’t mind allowing this mutt to run around in circles. 

Always straight-faced, Commander Kiramman sends out her next demand. 

“Search the grounds.” 

The panic that ignites in Vi’s eyes is nothing short of delicious. If it weren’t for the purpose of maintaining her image, Caitlyn would allow herself to smile in response to the all-mighty pit fighter’s horror.

The bottle she successfully hidden then barrels through the air, puncturing into the skull of one of the several Enforcers. Their death came as quick as the bottle was thrown, landing on the ground with a harsh thump. 

A flurry of gunshots ensue, all of which Vi manages to dodge. All she has to defend herself is her fists, which has been the weapon she has used for as long as she has lived. With ease, she is able to disarm the surrounding Enforcers and beat them into bloody pulps. Never has Vi been one to bend over easily. And that is certainly the case now with her forearms drenched in warm blood, blue-and-gold dressed corpses littering her path.

However, there is one missing. Through the enraged chaos, Vi cannot find the Commander amongst the mess of bodies. With the door to her childhood home wide open, she feels her stomach cave into itself. She clumsily scrambles to her feet and rushes into the dilapidated building, eyes wide and crazed as she enters.

The Kiramman is nowhere to be seen, and horrifyingly so, neither are you. All that is left of you now is the Enforcer jacket she blanketed you in.

A roaring scream bruises Vi’s throat raw as she collapses to the dirt. Tears mend with the mess, seeping down her face like they never have before. There is no torture like being so close to having everything, then having it torn from your hands in the matter of seconds. That is a reality Vi will do anything to destroy.

Never in the thousands of years you have been alive did you ever consider the possibility of being arrested. 

One of the most powerful creatures in Runeterra has now been locked in a cage. You would laugh at the prospect alone if your body weren’t so weak. The stiff, cold surface of the cell bed you’ve been thrown upon does not aid this sickness, either. Neither does the boisterous complaints of other inmates and clanking metal bars. 

Despite the rampant pounding using your brain as its drum, you’re insistent on staying conscious. No matter how torturous reality may be. Soon, you assure, you’ll be back beneath the warm blankets of your sanctuary, a steaming bowl of soup and cup of tea greeting you first thing. This adventure will be nothing more than a silly story to tell your beloved villagers.

It is when you glance out of your cell do your thoughts come to a halt. 

Through the thick bars of the cell before yours, you find doe-like, honey-gold eyes staring at you in complete wonder. Her gaze is almost shielded beneath the messy mop of chestnut-brown locks atop her head. The fearful tears glimmering in the corner of those eyes prick at your heart, as well as the chubby cheeks already stained of her cries.

A little girl, in a place like this? What measures has Runeterra resorted to while you were sitting cozy in your palace? 

“Oh… Hello there, little one…” 

Your coo is quiet amongst the calamity of the prison, but the young girl latches to your words, nonetheless. 

“Would you like to see something magical, perhaps?” 

Her attention, already captured, is now thoroughly piqued as she eagerly nods her head. Her tiny fingers grasp the rusted metal of the cell bars, impatiently awaiting your next move. 

Normally, in a healthier state, you’ll entertain the children of your village by forging shapes from these clouds. From cranes and flowers to blimps and dinosaurs, it never fails to put them in a state of awe. With your stomach still swaying with blood, the best you can muster is a few fireworks that lazily dance from your palms.

Despite the (in your opinion) pathetic performance, the little girl brightens with excitement, her hands clasped around her cheeks in amazed shock. For the first time in weeks, just about, you smile with her. Raw and real, just the way it is back in your sanctuary.

Like clockwork, that happiness is robbed from you when a certain somebody makes their presence known. The sight of the little girl is blocked by the bulky figure of Vi, who stares down at you in your cell as though you were served as the main course at tonight’s feast. 

“Don’t get too excited, sugar.” She muses, tone slow and greedy. A timbre you know all too well. 

A few metal clanks and twists of her hand, the cell slides open and grants this lovesick monster full access to you. Her gaze is predatory as she locks the cell shut behind her, unblinking eyes never parting from yours. An evident fire burning inside her that not even the most violent of oceans could extinguish.

“You think that stupid Kiramman is gonna be enough to keep me away?” She laughs mockingly at the idea alone. “Took some pathetic groveling to get back here, but I have a few ideas of how you can make it up to me.”

You curl into yourself, knees pressed to your chest as though it could conceal you from the hungry mouth drooling to sink its sharp teeth into you. This effort is merely futile as Vi wastes no time in sitting down beside you, calloused hand beginning to massage the juts of your knee. 

“Violet…” 

A warmth blooms in her chest at the sound of you cooing her name; the only noise she’d ever want to hear first thing in the morning, replacing the hangover-buzz diluting the demands to prepare herself for another fight. 

“I worry for my people. Please, I insist! I must return home-!” 

A finger pressed to your lips and you’re silenced. 

The sly grin slithering onto her face is impossible to avoid, as well. Evidently giddy over the concept of having such control over you. You also do not fail to notice the way she subtly nudges that finger against her mouth. A sloppy indirect kiss, you presume. Even though he was such an ephemeral figure in your life, it might as well have been Viktor sitting beside you with such teenage-like antics. 

“You don’t need to worry about all that right now, sugar. No monster is gonna get you while I’m here.” 

A hand to your shoulder and you are swiftly tugged into her embrace, the same way a python ensnares itself against defenseless prey. Your body feels like that of a stranger when the action causes lethargy to perfuse through your whole body.

With your head on her chest, one thought remains persistent as you drift to sleep for the umpteenth time.

This is really getting irritating.

“Well… It all went to shit.” Jinx admits in defeat. “Didn’t it, Birdie?” 

The nightlife has now overwhelmed all of Zaun, but Jinx remains on the outskirts in complete isolation. She passes the countless posters adorning her face in favor of treading mindlessly. She has no intended path in particular. Anything to keep her moving; anything that will outrun the demons that lurk in her path. 

Her hair drags through the sand as she walks the edge of the lakeshore, feet bare to the jagged litter and broken glass shards. The water is frigid, to a painful degree, but she cannot find it within herself to pay any mind to the matter. Not with you gone, no. Nothing matters with you far from her side. 

Footsteps drum from behind her, but she does not dare to turn. She is perfectly aware of what prowls in the darkness. 

Mylo, in his state of a decomposed, neon-adorned apparition, breaks through the thick silence. 

“What did I say? Like always, you find a way to jinx everything. Jinx.” 

His teasing remarks do exactly as they intended: sink deep beneath her skin. Almost, she turns to snap back at his insult, but she manages to halt herself. After all, none of it is real, and surely you do not wish to date someone whose sanity is several blows away from shattering beyond repair. 

It is when Claggor joins the party does she nearly crack. 

“Did you really think they’d settle for someone like you? Come on, you knew it was a bad idea from the start.” 

Her nails dig into her hair, attempting to shield her ears from the rampant abuse. You wouldn’t settle, you’re not like that! No, you’d love her, you were so close to learning how to! It was those stupid Topsiders who rid two innocent lovebirds of that chance! And that scientist, that bones-y creep! Couldn’t get it up for you and had to snag you away for a round two! 

“Y/N, hoo! That’s a catch you don’t find too often. Don’t think it’s somethin’ you can hook, kid.” 

Vander’s thick accent seeps deep into her bones. Jinx’s clenched fists pound against her skull as she tries to stop the thoughts from rattling around. She has torn Zaun asunder trying to find you, it was those Piltie scums who sunk their hook into you! It was them! Their fault, not hers! 

Vi’s voice perfuses next. 

“Time to cut your losses, Pow-Pow. They’d do better with someone like me-” 

“Shut up!” 

A bullet pierces through the wind when Jinx whips around to blow her sister's brains out. When the silence settles, deep and lonely, she registers her sanity has finally received its final blow. Now, there is nothing but the chunks of her persistent failure that remain. She is a jinx and that fact prevails like it never has before.

A single step sinks into the wet sand of the beach’s shoreline. Another sinks deeper, then another, and another. Her frail body begins to shiver from the ice-cold contact, but still, she does not cease her efforts. 

Floating on her back, Jinx sways along with the gentle waves, a juxtaposition to the pandemonium within her mind. It is a strange peace the sensation earns her. Nothing reminiscent of your all-consuming tranquility, but the resemblance is puny, nonetheless. Serving as her only comfort through all of this noise. 

With the flap of her hands, she descends her body further into the waves. The water gladly consumes her whole, gleefully robbing her of any oxygen. It clutches at her lungs with no hope of ease and indulges in the thrashing fight. Through the chaotic wasteland of her mind, however, Jinx can only find you. 

Instead of the violent calamity she is so familiar with, the images stamped in her thoughts are inked in your happiness. Her eyes close and she revels in the picture-perfect scenery of what her life could have been. 

Vibrant paint splattered amongst each other, a playful fight in the midst of the renovation of yours and (now) Jinx’s palace. Toying with gadgetry and inventions, forging utensils to better the lives of your villagers (and maybe the bedroom, as well). Cheesy, romantic music perfusing from the gramophone as you both clasp onto each other in an intimate dance. Cherries-on-top present themselves through kisses on cheeks, flustered giggles, and warm nuzzles. The very definition of a perfect life, that is how Jinx would describe these fantasies. 

They continue to play as her lungs grow tighter and tighter and tighter. Though, there is no pain with your smile shining behind her eyes. 

Then, with one final gasp of your name, there is nothing.

Across the bridge, you’ve now found yourself in an irritating routine of succumbing to your body’s incessant need for rest. Asleep for years, it feels like, only to be granted mere minutes of energy. Every time you stir awake, without fail, Violet is the one you wake up against. How a prison guard has not raised the question of why one of their Enforcers is cuddling an inmate, you haven’t a single clue. 

What you do know is that she is currently in a deep slumber. Testing the waters, you lightly nudge the thick muscles of her arm. With no rousing in sight, you take advantage of her unconscious state and your sudden burst of energy.

With slowness that would put a snail to shame, you lift Vi’s arm from its permanent residence around your waist. Just before you can slither out of the new space for escape, that arm locks around your form, its sudden tightness forcing a gasp from your throat. 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” 

Her leg is then brought into that equation, too, now latched around your hips. Nuzzling her face into the nape of your neck, you try to ignore the possessive affections and instead, measure the weight of your possible choices from here.

Simply walking out of this cell is not a clear option here. There is also the matter of being patient for your powers to return, but the waiting game is not something you wish to play. A repeat of what that blue-haired mastermind put you through is nothing short of a nightmare. With only one feasible option on the horizon, you take a deep breath of preparation. 

Evidently, this girl has a weakness. And that very weakness is heavy-eyed and lethargic, locked in this prison cell. Weaponizing this could result in your escape, sure, but it could also lead you into a… Sticky situation, if you will. Even if you read thousands of books on the skill of romance, you would still be oblivious in any effort to navigate that world. In the centuries of your life, you have never cared for such, either. 

The people within your village have always been of utmost importance. Tending to them has been the path you have happily tread down for years. Never a kiss, never an embrace, never even holding hands with a special someone — your interest in these pursuits has never been piqued. 

Sure, Viktor and Jinx are not the first to piece together your runes and find their way to your sanctuary, greeting you with lovelorn declarations of devotion that would take the trophies of the most talented of poets. None of their romantic pursuits ever compelled you to indulge them, though. Until the feelings are mutual will you ever consider the choice.

With that being said, this does happen to be the first time their reverence has pushed you and your magic outside of your sanctuary. Locked tight in a prison cell, no less.

From here, you bite the bullet and put on your best award-winning performance. 

Before Vi’s grasp can tighten once more, you swiftly slip out of her greedy hold. She reaches for you like a child parting from their teddy-bear, but another demand of your return gets lodged in her throat when you straddle her.

Fake smile plastered on your face, you take her face into your hands and simply stare. A few well-measured caresses of your thumbs and she’s entirely at your will, evident in the exasperated breaths and powder-grey eyes sparkling like a puppy-dog with a juicy bone. Vi’s hands clutch around your thigh, jagged nails digging into the flesh as a desperate means to not let them travel further. This attempt at self-control is weak, however.

“Fuck. C’mere-” 

Her lips just barely graze yours before you interrupt her intentions. 

“I was so frightened before. Not a soul could fathom the weight of my fears.” 

Paired with a gentle pout and nervous tone, any disappointment surrounding not having your lips on hers is replaced with genuine, unbreakable interest. 

“Jinx was so, so cruel, Violet.” 

The name of her sister should never sit on your tongue, only hers. It causes her to tense beneath you, a stirring pit of rage forming from the frail tones in your voice. The sight of tears building in your eyes does not assuage these feelings, either. No, it adds even more fuel to the fire.

“Even my cries were not enough to stop her vicious hands. Extraordinary violence, she always treated me with.” 

It is faux innocence; a sloppy attempt, at best. Still, your efforts work marvelously with the anger you’ve managed to ignite. The fact she has not thrown you back onto the cell bed, stormed out of the prison, and returned with a pair of blue braids on a silver platter is nothing short of a miracle. 

“You…” 

Your finger traces the jut of her collarbone, eliciting a chill with every centimeter your nail treads.

“You are simply different. A softness I did not deem myself worthy of, crashing into my world like the catalyst you are.”

Accentuated with laughter, Vi falls even deeper into your magic spell. It is only now do you realize a mere caress would have done enough damage, why hadn’t you utilized this skill sooner? You did not expect such antics to work so obnoxiously well. So much so, you fear you may have abused this tool a pace too far.

“Let me make you feel good, ‘Sug. ‘Promise it’ll be nothing you’ve ever felt before.” 

Her arm then ensnares around your waist once again, the other clasping your jaw to prevent another escape. The gasp it pulls from you is misinterpreted as something sensual, of which she gobbles right up. 

“Tastes like candy, I bet.” 

Vi’s lips find your neck before you can merely react to the sudden movement. Lapping and sucking onto any stretch of skin she can claim — a heaven she has only dreamt of clutching. 

You twitch uncomfortably from the affection, which she, once again, mistakes as an act of passion. If her mouth weren’t occupied with the best meal she’s ever tasted, she’d reassure you of how there is no need to rut against her for more of her touch. If she were to speak of such, your act may falter from the disgusting insinuations behind the filthy words. 

“Violet…” 

Your attempt at grasping her attention is perceived as one of pleasure, evident in the satisfied groan it pulls from her. Brows curling upwards and all. 

“Allow me to kiss you. Please.” 

The words are so foreign, they feel equivalent to vomit crawling from your mouth. Anything to remove this blood-hungry vampire from your innocent neck. 

Vi obliges in an almost whiplash-inducing speed and her eyes flutter shut as she leans in. With a prayer to no one, you enact on a power you did not ever believe you’d wield in such circumstances. 

Two fingers pressed to her closed eyes, you whisper your next action. 

“Sleep…” 

And just like that, it was like the humiliating scene had never occurred in the first place. Violet is out like a light, sinking down onto the concrete-surfaced prison bed. This mechanism has only been explored in more light-hearted scenarios. It was normally exercised to lull fussy babies. Now, it is used to pacify the animalistic exertions of this dark-haired street fighter.

With your weakened state, you cannot accurately anticipate how long Violet will be asleep for, nor can you measure how much time is left before you’re forced into a state of unconsciousness, once again. You yank the dangling keys from Violet’s hip and fiddle with them clumsily, before the correct one finally unlocks your cell with a click. Centuries spent applying your powers to any barrier makes for an awkward runaway, you surmise.

Scanning the long aisle of cells for any lingering guards, you dash to the cell directly before yours. Another graceless scrambling of clanking keys ensues before you finally hear that melodious click. Upon entering, frantic and horrified that you had possibly let a child witness such a fiasco, you release a pent-up sigh of relief when you find her fast asleep. And, most imperatively, safe. 

With another paranoid glance over your shoulder, you bend to her level at the edge of the prison bed. You inspect the skin not covered in rugged scraps for any wounds, of which you thankfully find none. The people beneath this roof are prone to aggressive violence. Forcing such hands onto a child is an act you deem unforgivable, and frankly, impossible to understand. It is an overwhelming gratitude you are met with when you find they spared the girl of such. 

The adorable coos of gentle snores almost prompt a spike of guilt in you, but you insist on nudging her awake before this rare window closes.

Golden eyes peer around in confusion as she rouses from her sleep. Upon discerning the sight of you, the girl practically throws herself into your arms. You stumble back upon the surprising act, but do not hesitate in returning the affection. What kind of monster would deny a child the necessity of comfort, after all? The heart-shattering cries muffled into your shoulder only strengthen this belief furthermore.

“Oh, Rabbit… I will not let them harm us. I promise you.” 

When she retreats from your hold, you clasp her face in your hand and stroke her chubby face.

“I know of a place I am positive you’ll adore. Somewhere you will never be hurt again.” 

Her eyes are hopeful as they stare into yours, sobs having eased to hiccuping sniffles. A smile, just a hint of one, stretches on her scarred lips.

Shifting your gaze a little to the left, you find a rusted helmet with cracked goggles had been left underneath the bed. Possibly belonging to an old miner, it appears. You place the hat atop her messy locks, pretending you were crowning royalty. 

“You will need your best armor, soldier. Only the strongest can embark on such a journey.” 

That earns you a giggle, of which you revel in the success of. 

“Remind me, soldier, what is your name?” 

The girl seems to consider your question thoroughly, measuring how exactly she should inform you of such. Several motions of her hand spell out her name in sign language, of which you read in perfect coherence. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Isha.”

Meanwhile, Violet remains limp in the neighboring cell. A peaceful, blissful slumber that is oblivious to what is happening just several feet away. And in this slumber is where she revels in the exhilaration of a love she’ll cling to for the remainder of her days.

Like the triumph of a curtain call, Violet’s dreams have come true: to feel the touch of gentle warmth. After an entire lifetime, she is finally soft. Here, beneath the light of you, everything melts. 

Now, her dreams have shifted. Violet will keep a tight clasp on this feather-touch. 

No matter what it takes.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

❝ YOU REALLY GOT A HOLD ON ME,

SO THIS ISN'T JUST PUPPY LOVE . . . ❞

gif creds.

tag list: @honey-beeuwu @mrprettycom @makangelo @thelonelyme @solavily @eldritch-bunny @decaffeinatedclodbagelweasel @orbitingmarswithp @frickidyfrog @phantomdomi @mermaidm0tel6 @numbu5 @applepinsss @anon34570 @biohazardousbunny @vogelaqwry @lorely788 @mellowangeltree @myathegoat @alix-37 @lavandercinnamon @vrnicky @mellowfishauthoreggs

[shariasweet]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ needier

_._____ 𝒙 f.reader

wc ::: drabble length sharinote ::: if this looks familiar… it is a reupload from my previous blog (lilmashae) ^_^ I was scrolling through my docs and found it !!! I’ve sort of revised it to more so fit my writing nowww but yeah 😊 all I can say is this may have gotten even shittier sozzz

when your boyfriend is feeling far too needy… and you reject his advances you’ll have no choice but to succumb to his pleading. how could you say no? especially when he looks at you like that?

not that you notice… but he’s practically drooling.

you look so beautiful… you’re only sitting on the couch… finishing up with your work — but your brows are perfectly furrowed and with your mouth slightly agape as you chew on your lips… it reminds him of the face you usually make whilst he bullies his cock into your cunt — the expression is one seared into the back of his head.

sneakily he decides what he has to do — desperate to get you falling apart on his tongue he creeps up beside you.

you pay him no mind. a small ‘hey baby,’ slipping past your lips as you spare him but a glance. ‘hi.’ he softly kisses your lips. ‘busy with work?’ he knows that you are — he just needs to cloud your mind. you nod and his hand reaches you for the remote. ‘just finishing up sorting some files.’ you smile. It’s nothing out of the ordinary for him to sit alongside you as you work. In fact you enjoy his company.

the tv gently glows from behind your laptop screen and you hear the chattering of some characters playing on the screen.

nothing out of the ordinary you remind yourself — its an occurrence that your boyfriend keeps you company whilst you work. he’ll tell you stories or put on a movie and just sit.

and it's because he's so ‘subtle’ that you don't notice his wondering hands.

they find themselves cupping your thighs… groping and squeezing the meaty flesh and he hopes not looking at you will make it less noticeable. which in a way… it does — you dismiss it as he's feeling handsy. so what? it's not like it's distracting you or keeping you from work. beside he’s usually clingy any how.

his hands feather further up your skin. his fingers growing eagerly closer to the warmth of your cunt through your shorts.

however, you only put two-and-two together when he ‘drops the remote’ and somehow ends up perfectly settled between your legs. he lays his head on your pillowy thighs, nuzzling into your cunt like a puppy.

‘what are you doing, hm?’ his wide eyes stare up at you. one of your hands rest in his hair, gently scratching his scalp as you peek at him from in front of your laptop. "nothing..."

you should’ve known by the needy tone of his voice… the small nibbles and bites — the kisses he leaves on your thighs say otherwise.

‘baby...’ you shoot him a knowing look. ‘i'll just be a little longer, okay?’ he thinks he’s so sneaky, nodding and putting his head down on your lap once again — resting he says.

you don't even notice his head inching closer and closer to your clothed cunt. his fingers remain toying with the hem of your at-home-shorts until they find their way into your panties.

a sharp huff of air escapes past your lips. you scoff, tutting the impatient male. ‘you just don't listen, do you?’ feeling him poke at your clit you sigh. ‘mhm... m'sorry, fuck... 'just want to taste you s'bad, my pretty girl.’ your boyfriend’s so cute…

you can tell he’s desperate. his hair’s thrown all over his head, he’s pouting and nuzzling himself closer to your pussy mumbling under his breath with glossy eyes.

it sends shivers down your spine, the way his breath tickles you through the thin cotton fabric of your underwear. ‘just a little, princess. only a little taste i promise.’

as much as you want to resist him, you can't. he promises…

you'll think of something to tell your boss later, just in case ‘my boyfriend was feeling needy’ doesn't cut it.

‘go ahead h/n…’

with that, he's lapping your cunt like a starved man — messily, without a care in the world, except for that you finally let him have his way.

the way his tongue prods at your entrance makes you weak — the slimy, wet muscle reaching for an orgasm buried deep within you. ‘shit!’ you hiss, your hand tangled in his hair. ‘s-slow down! baby... holy shit, oh m'god!’ his lips touch every part of you as his nose ruts up into your clit.

you're pulling his hair, shaking, squealing, but he could care less.

he's enjoying every second of this — humming into your cunt and swallowing every drop of precum and slick… his lips vacuum around your clit — harshly sucking as he pokes his tongue out to trace your slit.

‘taste so good…’ he whispers as one of his hands holds your thigh, while the other's fingers toy with your tongue, lolled out of your mouth. ‘want to eat my pretty girl out everyday, fuck...’ the vibrations oh his humming spread throughout your body. he plunges his tongue deeper inside of you, accompanied by two of those slender fingers. ‘so tight, baby...’

"please, please, please..!" there's a ticking knot building up within your stomach — your orgasm threatening to dawn over you at any moment. it's distracting, but not enough for you to not notice the way he's wildly moaning and grinding — bucking his hips up to the soft cushion of your couch — whining into your sweet cunt. ‘go! ah… fuck, cum… please cum.’ he huffs between latching onto you, suckling and drooling all over your messy puffy cunt.

‘cum f'me, baby. 'want it all on my tongue, 'kay? squirt in my fucking mouth…’ you grind down against his tongue, begging for more — and he obviously obliges.

much like before he seems to get his way — no questions asked when that knot in your stomach snaps.

'was so good, yeah? thank you, baby, thank you, thank you, thank you... 'so fucking good, so sweet.’ the male babbles incoherent pleas of thanks.

he laps up every bit of fluid before rising up off of his knees (you don't fail to acknowledged the wet print where his bulge is after he came untouched), pulling you into a hot, passionate kiss.

sim jaeyun : yang jungwon : choi beomgyu : myung jaehyun : leehan : song mingi : mark lee : seok matthew : whoever else you please 🤍

[shy-writer-999]

Summary: Sickeningly sweet, Sanji can’t do anything but make love to you. A short and very lovey-dovey 900 words.

CW: Afab reader, G/N language, basically pure smut but its very fluffy and sweet, P in V.

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

Sanji loves to moan your name into your mouth. As he rocks his hips up into you, one hand braces your waist. You’re in one of his favorite positions, sitting on his cock, legs wrapped around him, with your chests pressed tightly together. Your arms are thrown around his neck. Sanji’s free hand cups your cheek, and he’s almost smothering you with kisses so adoring that you can taste the love they’re made of.

He can never get enough of you.

“Fuck, my love,” he murmurs between and during his kisses, with no regard for where his lips are or how understandable he is. “You’re being so sweet for me.”

When you hum into his mouth in response, his hips move back and forth, keeping his cock inside of you. His shaft and tip grind on deep parts of you, rubbing and twitching with pleasure as you throb around him.

Sanji’s hair shifts and tickles your face as he rolls his hips. He’s got a heart-melting smile plastered onto his lips when they’re not locked on yours. Clean-smelling cologne is dusted in faint traces on his skin. He wears this fragrance specifically, not too much and not too little, because he knows it’s your favorite.

“You feel amazing, sweetheart.” Sanji purrs in your ear. It sounds like honey and desire, bouquets of flowers, hundreds of hugs, hand holding and sneaky kisses. At the same time, his tone is saturated with need and distorted by ragged breaths.

While his cock is inside of you and that gorgeous smile plays on his lips, Sanji is the epitome of a doting lover-boy. But while Sanji may seem like just a lover-boy, he’s far more complicated than that. His love is not a monolith, and you know that.

He’s a man with scars of trauma that he works to unpack each day. Sanji recognizes how these experiences have impacted the way that he loves, and he berates himself for sometimes not believing that the love you give him is genuine or that he deserves it.

He will never forget the day that he decided to give you all of him, unabashedly and uninhibited. You had been waiting for that day ever since you met him.

Now, any time that Sanji looks into a mirror, he hopes that you’re staring back at him—he hopes that he sees in his reflection the man that you so ardently cherish and support. And the more time he spends with you, the more he sees in himself someone worthy of being precious.

“You don’t understand how much I love you.” His thumb rubs soft circles on your cheek and his arm pulls your waist tighter. He wants to be as close to you as possible, to feel your heart beat at the same time as his, to match your breaths and memorize your every curve.

Each blissful and loving buck of his cock into your sensitive spot feels euphoric. Heat rages between your legs—in an attempt to take him, you squeeze him with your legs. You want as much of him as he will give you. Like always.

“I need you, angel.” Sanji’s voice is desperate and his hips move faster.

“You have me, Sanji.” It’s a cliché response, maybe. But it still rings true. No matter how many times you say it, he’ll never get tired of hearing it.

You are all that he could ever ask for. When he hears your words, an affirmation of your love, his breath quickens. You get him off in every sense. It’s the closeness of your body and the feeling of your core pulsing around him, but it’s also your affection. Something about feeling loved and loving you in return sets him off—especially when you’re on his cock.

Sanji’s brows are pinched at the middle, his mouth is open, and those pretty eyes of his are on fire. He’s almost at his limit. He’d like to see you cum before he fully lets go. It’s a sight that he savors, the last course, the dessert he never stops craving. Seeing you orgasm is sweeter than anything he’s ever made or tasted.

“Cum for me, gorgeous. Please.”

It takes no effort to do as he says. That familiar, white-hot, and eye-rolling wave of pleasure comes crashing down within seconds. It’s easy to cum when his voice gets like that—husky, low, and politely demanding. You’re floating in and drowned by pure ecstasy and true love. It washes over you for many moments.

Seeing you orgasm on his cock, satisfied and almost drooling, is what pushes Sanji into that wave. As he cums, his hips spasm upwards. You can feel that familiar tingling sensation, Sanji filling you up with his hot cum, and you relish it. His last haphazard thrusts are punctuated by groans and words that make your heart twist. “I—love you—so—fucking—much.”

You know that he’s telling the truth, but no matter how many times he says it you’ll never get tired of hearing it.

that's all for this one :D (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ i hope u liked it, i feel eh about it 🥴 but he is such a sweetie >///<

here's my masterlist and my posting schedule for october.

finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)

[livelaughloveluffy]

flirt - portgas d. ace

a/n: ace, my flirty king 😭😭😭 it's about time to honor this man with this fic because this is truly his strong suit. also wano is making me miss ace so much more than usual 😭😭😭😭😭

nothing but fluff here 💗

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-ace can't take his eyes off of you; you'll often catch him blatantly staring at you, broad smile slowly growing on his face. some times, he'll make silly faces at you from across the room. but you'll always find his eyes somehow locked onto you.

-he adores your laugh, it's like music to his ears. so like his brother, he'll do anything to hear it. ace is full of jokes and funny stories, but his go-to move for making you laugh is tickling you. he's always super sneaky about it too, he'll make it seem like he's just going to stand behind you, gently placing his hand on your waist, and before you know it, you're on the floor screaming for mercy with the little air that's left in your lungs between giggle fits.

-ace is the king of cheesy pick up lines. and somehow he always makes them sound a lot more charming then they actually are (it's definitely because he's just so beautiful).

-his effortless casual way of creating banter is truly admirable. he somehow finds the best ways to slide himself into your conversations, teasing you to the point that you're giddy like a schoolgirl, he's not satisfied unless your ears and cheeks are bright red, leaving you a blushing mess with the biggest smile on his face.

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tags ♡: @3v37773 @irethepotato @dreamcastgirl99 @acesdiary; want to join the taglist? click here!!

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!