Could We Get A Viktor Drabble Where He’s Doing That Thing Teenagers Do When They Written Their Name

Could we get a Viktor drabble where he’s doing that thing teenagers do when they written their name and your name in their journal to see how they sound with your last name?

And getting caught 👀

As you wish, anon. And if Viktor getting caught writing things about reader is your jam, might I suggest A Theory by @gaybybirth which is the fic that dragged me kicking and screaming back into writing on tumblr.

Could We Get A Viktor Drabble Where He’s Doing That Thing Teenagers Do When They Written Their Name

Round and around and around that long finger. How he could twirl chestnut strands so much and not have given himself a permanent little curl or even a tiny bald spot behind his ear was beyond you. As it was he had cowlick after wispy soft cowlick curling errantly in the mess of his hair. It was irritatingly endearing, terribly distracting. Had your own fingers itching every time he started up that bad habit to slap his hand gently aside and and rake your own fingers back down his scalp. Difficult not to think what it would feel like, the silk mess of that hair carded between fingers. To watch him tilt is head back, close those tired amber eyes slowly. Thick lashes dark against pale cheekbones. Let you kiss bruised, tired eyelids softly...

No.

No, thoughts ran away with you far too easily. Not even thoughts - silly fantasies. He was terribly busy, terribly important. Him and Mr. Talis. Busy building the future of Piltover and leashing the power of those terrifyingly unstable hex crystals to allow teleportation across continents, across worlds. And all you could think of was touching that babyfine soft hair that formed a v at the nape of his neck. About the way his voice was always so softly quiet, terribly gentle.

He'd let you hold one, once. A hex crystal. Dropped it into your palm and smiled at how you'd sucked breath in hard and fast as you cradled it like a live bomb. Closed your cupping palms around it with his own.

"Can you feel it?" He asked.

All you could do to swallow, throat sandpaper grit and eyes round saucers. You could feel his fingertips against the outside of your wrists, feel the brush of his thumbs against your own and the warm of his palms to your knuckles. And yes... the shallow pulsing electric vibration of the deadly dangerous crystal you held. Like licking a battery without the copper taste, and with the warning crackle through the whole of your forearms straight to spine.

Lightening in a stone, if not a bottle.

Blue luminescence reflected in gold eyes as he pulled the careful cup of your hands apart and took the stone back. Eyes only for one thing and it surely wasn't for the tech assistant in faded grey and tatty coveralls, constantly smeared in gear grease and always in the background; fixing all the little minor issues the new golden boys of Piltover managed to create with their unlimited intellect and vastly overestimated mechanical expertise.

Sure, they could both design the future, write complex mathematic and arcane problems as foreign to you as Noxian calculus... but ask either to find the actual source of a lack of power in a time train gear network they had designed? Forest for the trees, you supposed. It was fine, you were good with details, with the trees, if this metaphor held.

Details like that hair twirling. Like his shy smile. Like how you'd be under and deep in the guts of a piece of mech and fumbling blindly for a tool only to have him press it into your searching fingers. Never could figure out how he always knew exactly what you were looking for without even having been asked. Nine eighths spanner? In your fingers. Ten quarter allen wrench? Done. The finest pair of needle nose pliers? His fingertips soft against your grease stained palm as he pushed it there in silent passing. Reading your mind.

If only you could read his.

So nice then, that one night, when you’d dragged yourself out from under the guts of their latest prototype, to find him sat there alone, the only other living soul in the lab and shaking an empty pen between twirling the silk licks of his hair.

You rolled tired shoulders and unzipped coveralls to tie the arms round your waist over your sweated tank top. Wandered over to pull the pen from his fingers and put a fresh one in hand. So lost in thought he failed to notice. Went right back to scribbling. Curiosity had you glance over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of whatever incomprehensibly complex mathematics he was entrapped in.

And instead stared down at two open pages scrawled with your name. And his. And little rough sketches and doodles that had a heat rising under your skin with the searing intensity of a late summer sunburn. Under your lean over his shoulder Viktor had swam to the surface, fresh pen stilling its most recent scrawl of your name before it dropped and he scooped one elegant hand under the jacket of his notebook to slam it shut and spin on you. Luminous golden eyes wide.

Before you could stop yourself you’d reached past him fast as a striking snake and grabbed up the notebook. Back pedaled a few steps as you flipped through it. Your name, his name, doodles and drawings and.... oh. You turned that page sideways and squinted. OH.

“Wait. Please...” His voice was broken, begging. Mortified.

“Viktor. Do you...” You were going to tease him, grinning, delighted. Until you looked up and saw him wilt, the fine splay of one hand hiding half his face as he slumped back onto his lab stool. Oh no.

Still, you weren’t giving that book back. Yet. Tucked it behind the small of your back in the waistband of coveralls and closed in on him. Very much emboldened by all the scribbles on those pages, lovely spidery litany of your name over and over again intertwined with his. Had you slot yourself between the long spread of his lean thighs. Permanently stained and calloused hand tugging away the one that hid his face by the wrist.

He resisted, and for a strained second you felt sure he was going to rise, spindle legs carrying him backward off the stool and out of the lab. But instead he gave, and let his hand drop, heat burning fever under pale skin beneath. Hot as steam burnt steel under your fingers as you caught up the fine angles of his face. Glad he didn’t seem to mind the scent of gear grease and petrol on your skin. Or how rough your thumb was as you slid it over the little freckle under his eye.

“Have you settled on one?” You couldn’t help your teasing nature, had to ask. So pleased he would be so obsessed as to fill pages with your names together.

“Please.” Still pained, he tried to pull his face from the frame of your hands, tried to reach round you to grab the book back. Instead you caught his arm behind you and pressed it higher as you leaned in.

Took a chance and pushed your forehead to his temple. Watched him exhale a shiver and turn amber eyes up toward yours. So close you could see the flecks of brown and green imbedded in the gold depths. Unable to help yourself, you pressed him.

“What else have you written about us?”

Tags

arcane viktor gn!reader its so sweet viktor x reader arcane ty for this adorable prompt

𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝗎𝗍𝗒 - 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻

－𝗰𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗷𝗼𝗵𝗻 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗲

𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽!𝗃𝗈𝗁𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 - 𝗉𝗍.1 𝗉𝗍.2

－𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗼𝗻 "𝙜𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙩" 𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘆

𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗍!𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗈𝗇 "𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵" 𝗋𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗒 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 - 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾

𝗓𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗂𝖾!𝖺𝗎 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗈𝗇 "𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍" 𝗋𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗒 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 - 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾

𝖾𝗑-𝖿𝗐𝖻!𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗈𝗇 "𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵" 𝗋𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗒 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 - 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇

－𝗷𝗼𝗵𝗻𝗻𝘆 "𝙨𝙤𝙖𝙥" 𝗺𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗮𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗵

𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝗄𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍!𝗃𝗈𝗁𝗇𝗇𝗒 "𝘴𝘰𝘢𝘱" 𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 - 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾

𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾!𝗃𝗈𝗁𝗇𝗇𝗒 "𝘴𝘰𝘢𝘱" 𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 - 𝗉𝗍.1 𝗉𝗍.2

𝖿𝗐𝖻!𝗃𝗈𝗁𝗇𝗇𝗒 "𝘴𝘰𝘢𝘱" 𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 - 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇

－𝗸𝘆𝗹𝗲 "𝙜𝙖𝙯" 𝗴𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸

𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗋!𝗄𝗒𝗅𝖾 "𝘨𝘢𝘻" 𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 - 𝗉𝗍.1 𝗉𝗍.2

Tags

baby's silly little books

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d-gteeths

2 years ago

Oh absolutely.

come get ya juice

Tags

the tropes are hungry slurp come get yall juice

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d-gteeths

1 year ago

No shame, shit was fire.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Oral Sex, Mentions of Male Masturbation

Summary: Just some good old student appreciation

A/N: Requested by cat anon!! I missed you cat anon!!!

Word Count: 520 (Unedited)

You know who each other… technically.

You’ve heard of each other. You’ve seen each other’s faces. Just, never in person. But that still counts as knowing someone. You don’t have to know someone to know someone. You’ve got each other marked to the T.

Miguel’s some too hot to handle delinquent punk that is the main subject in many of your anonymous complaints, and you’re that pretty little goody two-shoes who is probably wondering where her nobel peace prize is. At least, that’s what the two of you have chalked up based on random name drops you’ve heard around the school. Which has to be 100% accurate because… because. But of course, Miguel can’t just take anyone’s word for it. He doesn't like half of the people in this damn school, so why would he listen to them? So naturally, he has to do his own little investigation.

And he won’t admit it to anyone so god help him, but it’s hot. Not you, because you’re well, you, but the way you take command has his cock hardening in a second. And it’s totally just that and not the way your hips move when you walk or the way your eyelashes bat when you’re exasperated or the way you bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from letting your true emotions take control. Nope, it’s simply the dominance. Nothing else. I mean you’re just a stranger and the bloody VP and not someone he fists his cock to in the bathroom when he’s skipping class…

Which is why when he got the anonymous letter from you- it’s not his fault that he memorized how you write your a’s and y’s- he didn’t stalk the janitor closet that was to be the designated secret meeting spot. And he totally didn’t make sure to wait 7 minutes (because 5 is too punctual) after the destined time to walk inside. And he totally didn’t feel his cock stir when he got a hint of your perfume as you turned around hastily to look at him. Don’t quiz him, but he was 100% listening to every word you were saying and not just staring at your lips and imagining sliding the tip of his dick through them. Because he's a good and attentive boy. Obviously. Haven’t you heard?

And good boys show their thanks.

Which is why his tongue is very attentive to your pretty little clit. Twirling and sucking it into his mouth until tiny clicking sounds resonate in the cramp space. It isn’t very hard, the sweet juices you keep gushing on his face makes it very convincing to pay attention. And even when his mind strays, the pretty little mewls you let out and the grip you have on his hair pulls him back into the moment. It just makes him slightly delirious: the way your eyes roll, the mixed scent of your sex and perfume, the intoxicating taste rushing down his throat. It’s just so good he doesn’t even realize he’s coming in his pants the same time you come into his mouth.

Guess Miss VP tastes as good as she acts.

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d-gteeths

1 month ago

I will be heard bro 💀

content - cussing , slightly dirty thoughts,

I had a thinky thought about my husband. Because I love my husband.

Single!Black!Mother!Reader x Neighbor!Jason Todd. Ugh.

Jason who lives across the hall, who you suspect is Red Hood. You never call him out on it, or even ask—you just know. And he knows that you know. Lots of people know. But the people of Crime Alley care too much 'bout him to acknowledge it. He did good by them, so they did good by him in return.

Because you know what he's capable of, and because you've seen him care about his community before, you trust him with your life.

And your kid's.

You don't explain to him that you need him to play babysitter, you just knock on the door across from yours with your kid at your side and your keys in your palm.

You're all dolled up 'cause you'd gotten this interview for this job that was perfect for you. That would pay better, and you need to make the best possible impression—kinks perfectly gelled, cheeks blushed, lashes curled, lips all glossy.

You don't notice how his eyes take in the way the grey slacks you wore hug your hips a bit too tight. Or how his eyes get caught on the soft swell of your tits straining against what's meant to be (but failing to be) a loose fitting Red blouse.

You look phenomenal in his color. He thinks, for the briefest of moments, that you did it on purpose.

You look good enough to eat. And when you part those beautifully full, glossy lips—he feels set up. Like you knew he couldn't possibly dream of ever denying you.

"Please."

Fuckin' hell, you say that word so god damn pretty. You're so god damn mother fuckin' pretty. He always thought you had the biggest, prettiest eyes. Wide and dark, like a doe. He wonders, crudely, what they'd look like rolled into the back of your head.

So Jason huffs, and opens the door wider—unlike you, he doesn't miss cues. He sees how you relax, how you smile slightly, how your eyes catch on his face. If he didn't know better he'd think you liked him as much as he liked you.

He watches as you kiss your kid's cheek (envy burns in his stomach that he has to douse) and say he'll take care of them while momma goes to her interview. He loathes when you leave. Wants to tell you to come back, that he'll take care of you. That you didn't have to worry 'cause he was makin' money and he'd happily pay your rent, baby, all you had to do was say the fuckin' word.

He doesn't close the door until he's finished watchin' you walk down the hall. God, those fuckin' slacks, he loves watchin' you walk away.

Your child pouts as he situates them on his couch. He has to flip a little to find qubo, where Jacob Two-Two is in the middle of repeating a sentence.

"I want my momma.."

The kid whines.

He sighs.

"She 'bouta come back. Momma's just gotta go out for a minute, kid."

He swallows down what he really wanted to say. Swallows down a groan, because he's in the presence of a child and he wouldn't dream of exposing a kid to his inner thoughts.

'Christ, kid, I want your fuckin' momma too.'

Tags

x black!reader black!reader jason todd jason todd x reader jason todd x you mdni blog black!fem!reader jason todd x black!reader minors dni jason todd x single mom! reader

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d-gteeths

8 months ago

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish is the kind of dad who throws your kids around for fun, tossing them into the air and catching them just to hear their infectious laughter, ignoring the worrisome protests that you call out from the kitchen when they get a little too high.

Captain John Price is the kind of dad who convinces your children to ask you for pizza for dinner, acting all surprised when you tell him to call the local pizza place, eyebrows rising with "What's the occasion?" despite the obvious grin that his plan worked. You aren't fooled.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is the kind of dad who chases your kids around with a nerf gun, relentlessly pelting them with styrofoam bullets and ganging up on your oldest son with your youngest daughter. Waits behind the front door for your son to get home from school and immediately fires on him.

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of dad who holds your toddlers like footballs, your daughter tucked sideways under his arm and dangling your son by his ankle. "Found these mice sniffin' 'round the cookie tin." He says with a deadpan expression, but you don't miss the way his mouth twitches when they giggle and shriek.

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d-gteeths

2 years ago

Life is way easier if you just use a character creator 😭❗️

This is my arcane oc, they’re unnamed and have no lore yet but I love them :) My art is getting better!!!

Tags

art digital art arcane arcane viktor arcane fanart jinx queer artist black artist arcane oc league of legend art league of ledgends

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d-gteeths

2 years ago

I just remembered my second Pride, where I made different flag themed daisy chain bracelets/necklaces to hand out. I need folks to understand something:

They were free.

They were fucking free.

They were maybe ¢60 of acrylic yarn each at the most, and the whole ziploc bag of them took 2 hours max.

Three people gave me sad eyes until I took their money.

Someone who was clearly the mom friend of their group made me take a $5 and gave a 10 minute pep talk.

At least four more people insisted on getting change to pay for the, once again, free bracelets.

In spite of all these shenanigans, the absolute best was this one person who I can only describe as, “queer surfer dude who looks like a boyfriend who looks like a girlfriend.” I can remember nothing of the outfit, only the impeccable vibes. I did the same thing I did with everyone else, explaining the bracelets were free, and they nodded along as they took the last 6 strand rainbow bracelet. As soon as they had it on their wrist, they pointed at something over my shoulder and, like a fool, I looked.

Next thing I know, they’re running off cackling, yelling, “YOU’LL NEVER CATCH ME!” and I’m holding a fucking $20. I had to stop at least two people from chasing them, cause they thought the person stole something, and then they tried to give me money cause they thought it was funny seeing me flail over people being Too Nice.

That was the year I got reverse-robbed at Pride. I hope everyone out there is having a good time and, in particular, that queer surfer dude is out there still causing benevolent chaos.

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