Maja

19 yo girl finally putting her delusions into words 😝

[sawarusi]

nerdmin x reader (college au)

artist: musapylsa

YUP. YUH UH. 😋😋😋 sooo summary: armin and reader r studying buddies, armin's been crushing on reader since they became classmates in their college. one day, they met for a usual study sesh at armin's dorm, but oh... there's also a fire party this night... so reader takes armin there and uhhh... teehee ENJOY. btw i'm not a native eng speaker so sorry for any mistakes. mam hc że Armin jest fanem Elevena. jus saying tags: steamy, freaky loser armin, i cannot write fem x male smut for shit so it's just suggestive

it's Friday. the worst day to be studying, but here you were, at armin's dorm, studying with him for an upcoming chem test. you were both sitting at his desk, a comfortable distance between you two.

you wanted to get this over with asap, since there was a party in just an hour. you thought about cancelling this sesh, but you just couldn't do that to Armin.

thus you enetered hyper-focus mode - slouching over the worksheet, mouthing chem formulas while scribbling notes, teeth sinking into the end of your pen. the same pen he’d lent you two months ago, which you never gave back. he'd like to get it back, to chew on it himself, maybe do something... more.

to Armin, this sight next to him was the hottest thing he's ever seen. and so he just stared, unconsciously. he didn’t mean to stare at your mouth so much. he wished that pen was something else.

he was too occupied with his thoughts that he didn't notice you switching your gaze from your notes to him.

“earth to Armin.” you said, hoping to break him free from his trance.

he flinched, shook his head to regain his cool and blinked fast. “y-yeah?”

"you okay?" you snickered at his physical response. "thought I lost you for a second"

“oh. yeah. sorry. I was just…” he gestured vaguely at your shared chemistry worksheet. “…thinking about...this exothermic reaction”

you snickered and rolled your eyes "sure you did"

but little did you know that in theory he was thinking about it. you made him feel way too hot inside. you are the sole substratum that in combination with your pose, your focused form, makes him horny in as the product. he hated this synthesis. (where my chem enthusiasts at 😝)

also, did you know he has rules? well, he has rules. Armin Arlert Rules of Crushing on Someone Way Out of Your League. rule one: never act weird. rule two: don’t ruin the study sessions. rule three: don’t imagine them moaning your name when they lean over the desk and their shirt rides up a little.

he was failing rule three constantly.

“hey.” you nudged his ankle under the table. “you’re off again.”

“s-sorry.” he shoved his glasses up his nose and glanced away, cheeks flushing.

that’s when you stood up and stretched - and the hem of your shirt did ride up, and Armin nearly bit through his own pencil.

“you need a break” you said while looking down at him. oh lord.

he opened his mouth to argue. failed. closed it again.

“there’s a party tonight. off-campus. Jean’s place. come with me.”

his brain literally crashed. “i-what? no, no, i don’t… i can’t.” he waved a hand and chuckled nervously. “that’s not really my thing.” he rubbed the back of his neck, looking back at his notebook at his desk.

“you’ve been studying every night this week. you need to touch grass and talk to someone who isn't me, Arlert.” you leaned on his desk. "it'll be fun!"

“i touched grass yesterday.”

you leveled him with a 'seriously?' look.

“c’mon.” you smiled, and it hurt. that smile did things to him. twisted his stomach into knots and made his palms sweaty and his brain forget how words worked. “just for a little while.”

he should have said no. he wanted to. but then you said his name again, soft and warm like it meant something, and Armin -

Armin cracked. hard.

"alright.."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

he regretted it the moment you got to the party.

Jean’s place is chaos. bodies pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, music vibrating through the floorboards, lights pulsing like the whole house is on the edge of combustion. it smells like cheap beer, cologne, and heat.

he's two steps behind you, heart pounding as you cut through the crowd like you own it. you're glowing under the purple light - smiling, laughing, hips swaying as the bass hums through your spine. you belong here.

he doesn't.

Armin had never been more aware of how he didn’t belong. he was in a green shirt worn over a black sweatshirt and jeans. everyone else looked like they came to the met gala.

you glance back at him, still leading him further. "you good?"

he nods, too fast. "yup. great. i love... loud... rooms full of strangers."

you snort "you'll survive. stick with me."

and God, that’s the problem. he wants to stick with you. to grab your hand and not let go. to pull you against him and bury his face in your neck and stay there forever. but that’s not how this works. you’re his friend. his study partner. he’s your dorky academic sidekick who gets a little too flustered when you wear shorts.

your hand grazes his lower back as you pass him a drink, and Armin almost drops it.

you don’t seem to notice. or maybe you do. that’s the thing - he can’t tell. not when you look at him like that. not when you smile at him like he’s anything more than a nervous mess in a goofy (´•_•`) shirt.

but then - you lean in - “relax,” you murmur against his ear. “i’ve got you.”

his brain blue-screens. He barely hears the music anymore. all he can focus on is the warmth of your breath, the closeness, the scent of your shampoo. his fingers twitch around his cup.

he hovered close to you, sipping from the drink you handed him and pretending he wasn’t absolutely vibrating with nerves.

you leaned close to say something. he didn’t hear it - his brain short-circuited at the feel of your breath on his neck. he felt every hair on his body rising.

“what?” he asked confused.

“i said,” you repeated, grinning, “you look really good tonight.”

Armin glitched. you, complimenting him?? he had to pase for a while to completely process what you just said “i-me? i look like i just got back from working a shift at a library.” he was worried that this compliment may not be sincere due to the few drinks you've already had.

"oh, you know i love libraries."

he didn’t know what to do with that. he just laughed awkwardly, heart racing, and looked anywhere but at you. he was absolutely malfunctioning at this point.

and as the night bled on, something shifted.

you danced a little, laughed. you kept touching his arm, his shoulder, his hand - and Armin, for all his social anxiety and fear of misreading signals, started to feel it. the tension, and the possibility.

when you pulled him toward the dance floor, he didn’t resist. it did help that not many people were dancing there, as most were already passed out or just in their own worlds. so it felt more intimate for you two.

he hesitates, unsure of himself, hovering awkwardly behind you - but you just grab his wrists and place his hands on your hips.

“there,” you say, looking over your shoulder to smile at him. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Armin is fairly certain his soul just left his body.

you move with the beat - slow, steady, unapologetically close. he mirrors you awkwardly at first, cheeks hot, hands trembling where they rest on your waist.

but then you lean back - your back presses to his chest. your head tips onto his shoulder. your fingers find his.

this is dangerous. this is everything he’s wanted. and you have no idea. no idea how many nights he’s lain awake imagining you like this, warm and close and letting him touch. no idea how often he’s had to reread the same sentence in a textbook because your leg brushed his under the desk. no idea how much he wants you.

you sway your hips - grind back, just barely. his breath catches.

“still nervous?” you ask over your shoulder.

he forces a chuckle. “always.” his voice shakily.

“what would ease your nerves, professor?” oh lord.

he hesitates. face as red as a tomato. then - God help him, he's about to pass out - he leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

he clears his throat “there’s this article I read once,” he murmurs, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “about how close dancing like this increases dopamine release. makes people associate physical pleasure with whoever’s nearest.” his breath is ragged.

“i didn’t just read it,” he adds. “i annotated it.”

you turn slowly to face him. “you're such a nerd, Armin." and then it hit you. "YOU ANNOTATED A SMUT ARTICLE?" you couldn't help but laugh a little.

his eyes meet yours, dark behind his glasses. “it was well-researched .”

you couldn't help but scoff a little. you then did a 180 so that you could properly face him. his eyes meet yours, dark behind his glasses. there’s a shift - the air changes. you look at him like you’re seeing him for the first time.

his hand is still on your waist. your fingers brush his chest. your face is so, so close, and you don’t pull away. neither does he.

your bodies are still pressed close, music thumping through your bones. Armin’s hand tightens at your waist like he’s scared to let go.

you shift your hips just slightly - barely a grind - and feel it.

oh.

you look up at him - his lips parted, pupils blown wide behind foggy glasses. his face and ears were red, like, burgundy red. but what was lower to your vision was the true elephant in the room.

how that bulge was swelling more and more.

oh.

[sawarusi]

abby anderson x reader

Lucky

fluffy fic, bc abby deserves more love. tried to keep her as canon as possible. reader patches abby up and gives her the affection she didn't know she needed

Seattle wasn’t a destination. it was a mistake. at least, that’s what you told yourself when you first saw the skyline - half-drowned, crumbling behind rain and ash-grey clouds.

you didn't mean to come this far.

what started as a two-day lookout run turned into four. and after those long days, you were still empty-handed. almost every store you came across was already emptied. you kept following roads, trails, shadows of trails. it was supposed to be quick run for replenishing medical supplies.

you were the group’s medic. you were supposed to be back days ago.

painkillers, antibiotics, gauze. everything was running low. infection had already claimed one of your own last week. another was coughing blood. someone had to go out. but it wasn’t supposed to be you. you were too valuable for that - too essential to lose.

and yet here you were - soaked, exhausted, lost somewhere in the husk of a city you didn’t recognize until it was too late. you didn’t know you were in Seattle until the signs started showing up. patrol routes, WLF tags on walls, a rusty checkpoint gate.

still, you kept moving. you didn’t have the luxury to turn back empty-handed. by the time you stumbled across a pharmacy, the rain had soaked through every layer you had. your boots were heavy with mud and your limbs were aching with fatigue. the building leaned to one side, part of its frame collapsed under a fallen tree. but the windows were mostly intact, the signage faded but legible - madison pharmacy.

hope has yet again filled you.

you approached slowly, eyes sweeping corners, scanning for movement, traps, anything out of place. a piece of broken concrete served as a makeshift step through the shattered door. you entered and paused, listening for any potential threat. luckily, no clicking noise.

inside, it was silent. dust floated in narrow beams of grey light spilling from a crack in the ceiling. the shelves stood crooked, but, again luck was on your side. although some shelves were looted, you noticed the ones in the back still had plenty of suplies. you rushed to them.

you dropped your backpack next to you and unzipped it with numbed fingers - it was way too cold. you shuffeled through the shelf. you found a sealed bandage roll, four bottles of painkillers. there was even a surgical kit missing half its instruments, but still usable.

you hit the jackpot. you allowed yourself one content exhale. you weren't empty-handed now.

and that’s when you heard it.

a click - a mechanical click.

your breath hitched. every muscle in your body went still. it was a sound of a rifle safety being disengaged.

someone was behind you. and that someone now pressed the rifle's muzzle against your back.

"don't. move."

the voice was low and firm - commanding. it came from a stern and trained woman.

the pressure of the rifle now nudged harder into your back. you lifted your hands slowly, pulse hammering in your ears.

"what are you doing here? it's WLF territory. you're tresspassing. you shouldn't be here"

"i know." you said quietly. that gained a scoff from her. the pressure of the rifle against your spine didn’t ease.

“i'm not here for trouble,” you said. “i'm just looking for medical supplies. i’m a medic.”

"that’s not how this works." her voice edged toward warning now. “you don’t just wander into Seattle and take what you want.”

“i didn’t wander,” you replied. “i just happened to walk straight in. i got lost.”

another pause, heavier this time. she wasn’t expecting that.

“turn around.” she withdrawed her rifle so it wasn't touching you anymore, but she still had your chest at range. you obeyed and turned around, slowly, with your arms still up.

the first thing you noticed wasn’t the rifle. It was the blood.

her shirt clung to her right side, soaked in rain and red. the fabric was torn, bandaged haphazardly beneath her jacket - too fast, too shallow. it was still actively bleeding. not bad enough to drop her, but bad enough to slow her down. her weight shifted unevenly, favoring her left leg. her knuckles were tight around the grip of the gun.

the next thing you noticed were her eyes. not as sharp as you thought, they were fogged by tiredness.

“gosh, you’re bleeding.” you said, voice full of concern.

“keep your eyes up,” she snapped. “don’t think about getting cute.”

“i wasn’t,” you said. “i was thinking about how long you have before that gets infected.”

aflicker of something passed behind her eyes—pain, maybe. Or the first edge of doubt.

“i can patch you up.” you offered. “but you gotta put the gun down.”

she scoffed. “right. and have you stab me the second i do?”

you met her stare. “if I wanted you dead, i’d let the infection do the work.”

another pause. the rain outside beat softly against the broken windows, a dull rhythm filling the silence between you.

finally she lowered the rifle. not all the way. just enough.

“you patch me up,” she said. “then you get the hell out of my city.”

you nodded. “fair deal. get comfortable, this will take a while."

she leaned against the counter, her weight hit it harder than she meant to. "are you trying to make your condition even worse?" you said sarcastically with a raised brow.

she put her elbow of the hand with the rifle on the counter, still hesitant to fully trust you. but at least it was now only pointed to your leg. her teeth clenched, breath sharp through her nose, pain written across her face in flickers she probably didn’t mean to show. her free hand pressed against her side, fingers already sticky with fresh blood.

you dropped to your knees in front of her, unzipping your backpack and taking out the supplies you found moments before.

gloves - powdered and crinkled from being compressed for too long. gauze, still sealed in cloudy plastic. a needle with thread. your fingers sorted through it all without hesitation, the ritual familiar, almost sacred. you prepared everyhing you needed.

she watched you the whole time, silently studying your every move. you tried to ignore it, but the weight of her gaze wasn't helping.

when you gently peeled back her jacket, she flinched. her shirt had stuck to the wound, soaked through in a dark, glistening red. you worked carefully, easing the fabric away from torn skin. she grunted, a low, involuntary sound pressed hard behind grit teeth.

“breathe through it,” you murmured, voice low and gentle. “it’s deep, but looks clean. you got lucky.”

she gave a humorless huff. “doesn’t feel lucky.”

you glanced up - just for a second, eyes meeting hers. sweat was beginning to pearl along her temple, her jaw was locked tight, but not from fear, from pure endurance. she was doing everything she could not to flinch, not to move, not to make a sound.

not to look vulnerable.

her chest rose and fell in careful, practiced breaths. inhale. hold. exhale. like she was trying to control her own pain the way you'd control a trigger pull.

and in that moment, something shifted. she failed to keep the tough facade.

“easy, baby,” you said, hands gentle as you began to clean the wound. “i’ve got you.”

the words were out before you could stop them.

she froze and so did you.

the silence that followed wasn’t sharp - it was soft, fragile. she didn’t react, not really. just blinked once, slowly, then looked away. let it pass. she was processing whether that really happened or she just started to hallucinate from the pain.

you didn’t say it again. but you didn’t take it back, either.

the word still hung in the air like smoke, warm and quiet, curling into the silence between you.

your hands kept moving. you poured antiseptic over the wound. she hissed between her teeth, whole body going rigid for a beat. her hand curled against the counter, white-knuckled, but she didn’t pull away.

"almost done cleaning, you're doing great." you said, the praise was what you said to everyone you patch up, but this time, you said it more genuinely. you looked up at her "stictching's next."

"just do it." she muttered.

but her tone had lost its edge. it was less commanding, and more vulnerable and shaky.

you threaded the needle. hands steady. back hunched. full focus. knees sore from the cold tile. your fingers brushed the curve of her waist as you leaned in and started to stitch. the skin there was warm, a bit feverish. you felt the tension coiled in her body, in the way she tried to breathe around the pain, in how she twitched slightly every time the needle bit through her skin.

still, she didn’t curse or bark. she just endured.

"you're used to it." you said softly. it wasn’t a question.

her voice was dry. "more than I care to count."

"to others, or… to yourself?"

"...both"

the stitches went in clean, fast. your hands worked like they always did - reliable, careful, practiced. you could feel her watching you, again, with that heavy gaze. her head tilted slightly.

when you finished the last stitch, you cut the thread and wiped the blood away with a clean square of gauze. you didn’t speak. Neither did she. you peeled off your gloves and let them drop into your bag. then slowly, you stood up, back aching from being hunched so long, knees cracking from the cold tile.

you looked at her. "all done. atta girl"

she blinked up at you. the words hung in the space between you. 'atta girl'. no one said that to her.

her jaw flexed like she wanted to say something back, but no words could leave her mouth. she didn't know what words to use.

you turned away before the silence could stretch into something awkward and started packing up what little you had left - thread, wrappers, bloodied gauze. you stil needed it back at yor camp.

but you still felt her eyes on you, and still felt the shift in the air.

"thank you..." she said and paused, waiting for something.

"[y/n]"

"thank you, [y/n]. i'm Abby"

"thanks, Abby, for not shooting me on the spot." you replied, half jokingly half serious. at that comment, she put the rifle down on the counter. you stood up and tured to face her "and you're welcome."

“i meant what I said,” she murmured. “you shouldn’t be here.”

“i didn’t mean to be,” you followed. “didn’t even know i was in Seattle until i started seeing your goddamn signs.”

Abby huffed through her nose. “hell of a place to get lost.”

you gave a half-smile. “you tell me.”

for a moment, it was quiet again. not tense or awkward.

“well, [y/n],” she said, tilting her head toward the back exit, “if you’re gonna disappear, that’s the door.”

you didn’t move. neither did she.

“take care of yourself,” you said. “and that stitch job. don’t push it.”

Abby smirked faintly. “you think i won’t tear it just to spite you?”

you rolled your eyes, but there was no heat in it. “you tear it, i’ll hunt you down and fix it again. rougher this time. and without any painkillers"

she looked at you for a long second and crossed her arms on her chest. then, with something like amusement in her eyes, she said, “you’re not what I expected.”

You tilted your head, one brow raised. “what were you expecting?”

“someone scared.” she paused. “someone softer.”

you shrugged. “pfft i am soft.” you looked at her dumbfounded. "and i was scared. but as a medic, whenever i see someone hurt - i help. whether they're an enemy doesn't matter"

Abby definetely wasn't expecting that your response would be this... pure.

she shifted closer - barely a step - and lifted a hand like she might touch your arm, or your shoulder, but stopped herself half-way.

instead, she said “if you ever end up here again…” her voice dropped low, almost conspiratorial. “…don’t come into a pharmacy alone.”

you scoffed "noted." you put on your backpack and twent to the exit.

but before your hand hit the door, she called out “hey.”

you glanced back. Abby looked at you for a beat. her face unreadable.

“…thanks again. for not letting me bleed out."

you gave her a lazy, but a warm smile. “anytime, baby.”

there it was again. was it also accidental this time? nah.

she shook her head, a slight blush creeping onto her face "i better not see you around, baby." but she didn't mean it. she wanted for your paths cross once again, maybe in more safe circumstances.

[sawarusi]

teen!vi x piltovian!reader (pt. 4)

Lingered

part 1 part 2 part 3

“…i should probably head back.” you murmured and looked at her, your hands still intertwined.

you felt her fingers flex in your hand once, then they slowly let go.

“right” she said, eyes not meeting yours. “i’ll walk you,” she added quickly. “can’t have you getting snatched by some ugly creep and getting this beautiful jacket stolen and pissed on." she said half jokingly she stood up.

you huffed a laugh. “that’s… not a common crime category, Vi.” you got up and dusted yourself off.

“you don’t know that." she muttered, already walking. she became cold, weirdly cold.

the journey back was quieter. the streets thinned out the closer you got to the border. Zaun faded behind you - its buzzing signs, its dizzying color, its strange and beautiful pulse - all melting into cooler air and clean lines.

Vi didn’t talk much, but she stayed close.

her hand brushed yours more than once. accidental, maybe. but she never pulled away - and neither did you.

when your penthouse finally came into view, your chest tightened.

the windows glowed too bright. the gates too polished. the sharp corners of the building looked even more edged now - a place full of locked doors and people who counted things, not feelings.

you stopped just mere meters away from your front door.

“you didn't have to come all the way” you said gently, turning to face her and gave her an honest smile.

Vi shrugged, her jaw was tense. “i wanted to.”

you both stood there for a moment, the soft hum of Piltover wrapping around you, a strange contrast to the night you’d just shared.

the wind curled between you again. this time, it was colder and much sharper.

the silence being different than before, too. now it was full of tension and unsaid feelings. “thank you,” you said. “for showing me… a bit of your world” you said after a while.

"you’re the first person i’ve ever wanted to show this place to." Vi admitted, her voice rough with something she didn’t want to name.

the streetlamps casted a soft gold shine over her face, glinting off her lashes, catching in her short, tousled hair. she looked softer now, the edge worn down by something more fragile. like maybe she didn’t want to part ways with you, not yet.

you took a half step closer. “i meant it,” you said faintly. “about wanting to stay longer... with you.”

Vi’s breath hitched slightly. her eyes darted to your lips, then back up again - fast, but not fast enough to miss. she leaned forward a fraction. then another. and your heart began to thunder in your chest, louder than the city. her hand twitched like she wanted to reach for you.

but then - she hesitated.

close. so close. you could feel her breath against your mouth.

the city fell away - the sound, the movement, even the cold. it was just you and her. her eyes flicked shut for the briefest second.

and then - a click.

not a soft one. not imagined. the real, mechanical click of a lock disengaging.

you both froze. your gaze snapped toward the sound - the door to your building swinging open slowly.

the warm yellow light spilled across the steps like an accusation. and standing there, silhouetted in the doorway, was your mother. her expression was unreadable, which somehow made it worse.

Vi immediately stepped back, like the light itself had burned her.

your mother’s eyes slid down the length of you. her gaze caught on the oversized red jacket. on the butterfly pin near your heart. on Vi.

the moment transforming from soft to sharp in an instant.

Vi didn’t say anything. didn’t move. but her whole posture changed - shoulders tensed, fists half-curled in her pockets. she was used to fights. but not like this. she was preparing for a verbal fight.

“inside.” your mother spoke, almost hissing.

you opened your mouth to speak, but your voice didn’t want to come out. the air was too thin and too tight in your lungs.

Vi looked at you - her expression unreadable, but her eyes saying everything. a question, a regret, a goodbye she didn’t want to give.

“we’ll talk in the morning,” your mother said sharply, already turning back into the apartment. “i'll be expecting you to tell me everything.”

the door clicked shut behind her. Vi exhaled quietly, letting out all the pent up stress. her breath fogging in the cold air between you.

“i should go.” she murmured.

you nodded slowly, even though everything in you screamed don’t. your fingers twitched at your side, aching to hold onto something.

“i’ll see you around.” Vi said with a bit of sadness in her voice and turned around.

"wait!" you exclaimed and reached a hand towards her, grabbing her arm. "i should give you back this jacket. it's gonna be cold soon" you said, trying to make your voice sound casual, steady, but it cracked anyway.

“you don’t have to give it back yet,” Vi said, voice rough. “i mean… you can. but you don’t have to.”

yet? what did she mean by that? you swallowed.

“i just thought... you might need it.” your gaze was locked on the ground, not daring to ook at her.

“i don’t,” she said gently. “i’d rather you have it.”

and it wasn’t just about the jacket anymore. you both knew that.

Vi took a small step closer again, not enough to close the distance completely, but enough for the air to shift - warm between you now, despite the cold. her arm was still in your hand, your fingers still resting lightly there, not wanting to let go. not yet

“you look good in it, anyway,” she added, a small smile twitching at the edge of her mouth. her voice dropped to something quieter. “felt kinda… right.”

your cheeks flushed. you wanted to say something back - something honest. but your mouth wouldn’t cooperate.

instead, your thumb brushed acrossher arm once before you let go.

Vi didn’t move right away. she just stared at you -not with the boldness from earlier, but with a kind of quiet ache.

“i’ll see you soon.” she said again, softer this time. more sure of it.

you nodded with a small smile. "soon."

and this time, when she turned away, you didn’t stop her.

you stood in front of the doorway for a long time after she vanished, your hand still warm from where you’d held her. the jacket still wrapped around your body like a sealed promise. the scent of her, the softness of her words, the weight of everything unspoken - it all still lingered.

[sawarusi]

omg im soo burned out😭😭 i've been trying to write another part of my teen vi fic for a whole week and i just caaaant. lawd im so sorry y'all, and at the same time tysm for your patience 🙏 I'll try my best to finish it soon

my dog says hi btw

[vinyurk]

Bro I'm so obsessed wtih Gwendoline Christie rn. I feel so freaking gay

[cupiidskiss]

going on the tlou tag and it’s all just overtly sexual and horribly mischaracterized fics of abby ellie and joel

[sawarusi]

brienne of tarth x f!reader

star-crossed lovers

info before u read: reader is a princess of house (whichever one u want), and Brienne recently swore to protect her. reader is an oversharer. the reader's parents want to marry her off to some lord's son. i made up some constellations - astrologists pls dont come for me !english isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes!

just this evening, you'd learned of the grim plans your parents had for you - a betrothal, arranged behind closed doors, sealed with handshakes and promises you had no say in. You could still hear their voices echoing in your head, full of pride and expectation, as if your life were nothing more than another move in some great, tired game of thrones.

it was now midnight; you've been sitting in your chamber ever since, unable to look anyone in their eyes. the walls of the castle had seemed to close in around you, heavy with duty and the weight of centuries. you needed air. you needed space. you needed... out.

so you had slipped away - down the narrow servants’ stairs, past the dozing guards, out into the cool embrace of the night.

the garden was silver with moonlight when you stepped through the heavy doors, the chill of the night air kissing your bare arms. above you, the sky stretched wide and velvet-dark, stitched with a thousand glittering stars. it was easy to pretend, for a moment, that you were no princess at all. just a girl, small and free, lost in the wonder of the world.

the stars have always been there for you; anytime you were in distress, their light caressed your distraught form. they've been your most loyal confidants.

you had just flopped onto the cool grass, trying to trace the shapes of the constellations, when a soft clink of armor broke the stillness.

Brienne.

you startled upright, heart leaping. you looked up at her, expecting to be reprimanded and taken back to your chambers. but instead of scolding you or hauling you back inside, she just... sighed, and smiled a little.

"may I?" she asked, nodding to the grass beside you.

you blinked, stunned, before nodding quickly. she settled down with surprising gentleness, the plates of her armor catching the moonlight. for a moment, neither of you spoke.

the silence stretched, soft, yet heavy. and then, without meaning to, the words tore free from you.

"they want to marry me off. to some lord."

you paused, throat tightening until the stars above you blurred into a watery mess.

"i don't want it," you whispered. "i don't... i don't want any of them. i don't feel what I'm supposed to feel."

Brienne turned her head, her gaze steady, sure. for a moment, she just looked at you, as if weighing your words carefully, as if hearing the parts you hadn't said aloud.

panic clawed at your throat. you weren't supposed to say that. not aloud. not even to her.

desperate to pull the words back, to drown them out, you tilted your head back and pointed to the sky, forcing a too-bright smile onto your face.

you cleared your throat to force the words out of your mouth. "see that one?" you said quickly, rushing the words. "that bright one near the horizon? that's the Lady's Lantern. they say it's a goddess who fell in love with a mortal knight, and she lights his path every night so he can find his way home."

Brienne followed your finger, her expression softening, but she said nothing.

"and that cluster there - like a crooked crown - that's the Wolf Queen. she was supposed to marry some king she hated, so she ran away into the woods, and the gods turned her into stars so no one could ever catch her."

you rattled off another, and another, letting the names and stories tumble free - half-laughing, half-gasping - anything to fill the heavy silence. it was easier than thinking. easier than feeling the ache inside your chest.

Brienne listened without a word, her large hands resting loosely over her knees, the moon catching the pale gold of her hair. there was a patience to her - a stillness that made you feel, absurdly, as though you were safe.

finally, the words dried up, leaving only the chirr of crickets and the distant rush of the river.

you drew a shaky breath. there was no more running from it.

"they told me tonight," you said, voice barely above a whisper, "that a betrothal has been arranged. i’m to marry some lord’s son. i don’t even remember his name."

you laughed, but it cracked and crumbled halfway out of your throat.

Brienne shifted closer, just a little - enough that the heavy warmth of her presence wrapped around you like a shield.

"i don't want it," you confessed again, the words shaking free. "i don’t want... any man."

you struggled for the right words, feeling them clawing inside your chest. "it's not that i’m afraid. It's just - i don't feel the way they say i should."

for a long, aching moment, you couldn't look at her. you stared at your hands instead, willing yourself not to cry.

then you felt the brush of something b Brienne’s hand, gloved and careful, coming to rest lightly atop your own.

"that doesn’t make you wrong," she said, her voice low and sure. "it just makes you you."

when you finally dared to meet her eyes, there was no judgment there. only a quiet fierceness, steady and true, like she would draw her sword and carve a path through the world for you if you asked.

Brienne’s hand stayed over yours, a steady weight. she didn’t speak right away, and you were grateful. the night didn’t need filling.

Finally, she shifted, slow and deliberate, as though every movement carried a vow.

"you do not have to marry anyone," she said, voice low and certain. "not when i am sworn to you."

you blinked, unsure if you heard her right. she met your gaze, fierce and unwavering.

"i will protect you," Brienne said, like it was an oath carved in stone. "even from this."

the breath caught in your chest. no one had ever said such a thing to you - not without expecting something in return. but Brienne asked for nothing. she only gave.

the stars spun slowly overhead, cold and brilliant, and you realized with a sudden, aching clarity that you had never felt safer in your entire life.

a tiny smile, fragile but real, found its way to your lips.

"thank you." you whispered.

Brienne only nodded once, solemn and sure, as if you had entrusted her with something precious - and she meant to guard it with her life.

Brienne’s hand stayed over yours, her touch steady and sure, but you could feel the tension thrumming beneath her calm - like a bowstring drawn tight.

you turned your palm up slowly, letting your fingers weave between hers. she stilled, as if the slightest wrong move might break the fragile moment.

"you make me feel safe," you whispered, the words trembling between you. "safe to be... me."

for a heartbeat, she only looked at you, her blue eyes wide and wondering - as if she couldn't believe you meant it. as if no one had ever spoken to her that way before.

she took your hand - her grip so delicate, as if she was holding something made of porcelain. then, she brought it up to her mouth and kissed it tenderly, like a true gentleman. then she put it back where it was, and braided her fingers with yours. the gesture making you feel things you've never felt before - not by a man, at least.

the silence between you grew warm, shimmering with all the things neither of you dared to say yet.

the night air shifted, a colder breeze brushing across the garden and raising goosebumps along your skin. Brienne noticed immediately - of course she did.

she cleared her throat, the sound low and a little awkward, but her thumb brushed over your knuckles - tender, lingering.

"it's getting cold, my lady." she said, voice softer than you’d ever heard it. "you should return to your chambers."

you nodded, even though every part of you wanted to stay, tangled up in this strange, fragile magic between you.

slowly, she rose to her feet, offering her hand to you. you took it without hesitation, letting her pull you up with surprising ease, her grip careful but sure.

neither of you let go right away.

for a long moment, you simply stood there, hands clasped, the stars wheeling overhead, the world holding its breath. the glittering orbs shedding light over your bodies, making you both shine.

then, reluctantly, Brienne let your hand slip free - but only so she could walk beside you, one step behind and to your left, the silent promise of her protection never wavering.

neither of you spoke as you made your way back through the moonlit halls. but the space between you was filled with something new -something waiting to bloom.

when you reached the heavy oak door of your chambers, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the iron latch. the thought of stepping inside - of returning to the weight of your title, your duties, the betrothal that loomed like a storm - made the air feel thick, suffocating. you didn’t want to be alone with those thoughts. not yet.

you turned to Brienne, who stood a respectful step away, her hands clasped behind her back, her eyes fixed on you with that quiet intensity that always made you feel seen. truly seen - not as a princess or a pawn, but as you.

“will you…” your voice came out softer than you meant, almost lost in the stillness. you swallowed, trying again. “will you come in? just for a moment?” it came out sounding like a plea.

Brienne’s expression flickered - surprise, then something deeper, like she was weighing the propriety of it, the risk. but her gaze softened, and she nodded once, solemn as ever. “if you wish it, my lady.”

you pushed the door open and stepped inside, the familiar scent of beeswax candles and old parchment greeting you. the fire in the hearth had dwindled to embers, casting a faint, warm glow across the room. you crossed to the window, pulling the heavy drapes aside to let the moonlight in, needing the stars to anchor you. behind you, the door clicked shut, and you heard the soft rustle of Brienne’s movements as she stood near the center of the room, ever cautious, ever proper.

you turned to face her, leaning against the windowsill, you were nervously fidgeting with your hands as you searched for words. she stood tall, her armor catching the firelight, but her face was open, unguarded in a way you rarely saw. the sight of her - strong, steadfast, yet so gentle in her care for you - made something in your chest ache.

“i don’t know how to do this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “this… life they’ve planned for me. the betrothal, the marriage, the duties. it feels like i’m being buried alive.”

Brienne’s jaw tightened, a flicker of anger passing through her eyes - not at you, but at the world that would cage you. the very world in front of which she made an oath to protect you. she took a small step closer, her hands flexing at her sides as if she wanted to reach for you but didn’t trust herself to. “you deserve better,” she said, her voice low and fierce. “you deserve to choose your own path.”

her words landed like a stone in still water(those who know💀), sending ripples through you. no one had ever said that to you before - not your parents, not your septa, not the lords and ladies who smiled and called you 'my lady' while plotting your future. you felt tears prick your eyes, hot and sudden, and you looked away, ashamed of the way your voice shook when you spoke.

“but what if my path… what if it’s not what they want? What if it’s not what anyone wants?” the words were a confession, raw and trembling, and you couldn’t meet her gaze. you stared at the floor instead, at the patterns in the rug, willing yourself to hold together.

Brienne was quiet for a moment, and you braced yourself for her to step back, to retreat into the role of knight and sworn shield, to remind you of duty. but then you heard the soft clank of her armored boots, and she was closer now, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her presence, smell the faint leather and steel of her gear.

“you are not alone in that,” she said, her voice so soft it was almost a murmur. “i… i know what it is to want something the world tells you you cannot have., to be something the world doesn't want you to be”

you turned to face her and looked up, startled, and found her eyes searching yours, wide and unguarded, filled with a vulnerability you’d never seen in her before. Brienne, who faced down knights and beasts without flinching, looked almost afraid - not of you, but of the words she was daring to speak.

“what do you mean?” you asked, voice full of care and curiosity. your heart pounding.

she hesitated, her lips parting as if the words were caught there, heavy and unyielding. then she exhaled, a slow, steady breath, and spoke. “i was never meant to be… this.” she gestured faintly to herself, to the armor, the sword at her hip. “my father wanted a lady for a daughter. the world wanted me to be soft, to marry, to bear children. but that was never me. i wanted to fight, to protect, to be… true to myself. and I’ve paid for it, every day.”

her voice was steady, but there was a rawness to it, a quiet pain that made your throat tighten. you thought of the stories you’d heard - of the mockery, the scorn, the men who called her 'beast' behind her back. and yet here she was, standing before you, unbowed, offering you her truth like a gift.

that moment made you realize, that you know nothing (jon snow) of the knight you were facing. all of it made you yearn to get to know her.

“you’re the bravest person i know,” you said, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “you’ve never let them change you. i… i wish I could be that strong.”

Brienne’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked almost undone, like your words had struck something deep and unguarded in her. “you are strong,” she said, her voice fierce with conviction. “you’re here, speaking your truth, even when it scares you. that’s courage, my lady. more than i’ve seen in half the knights i’ve met.”

you laughed, a small, shaky sound, and wiped at your eyes. “you make it sound so simple.”

“it’s not,” she admitted, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “but you don’t have to face it alone.”

the promise in her voice, the weight of her presence, made your chest feel too full. you stepped closer, daring to bridge the gap, until you could see the faint freckles across her nose, the way her eyes widened, soft and wondering. “Brienne,” you murmured, your voice trembling with everything you couldn’t yet name. “when I’m with you, i feel… like i could be me. like i could want what I want, and it wouldn’t be wrong.”

her breath caught, and for a heartbeat, she looked at you like you were a star she’d plucked from the sky, something impossible and precious. her hand twitched at her side, then slowly, so slowly, she reached out, her gloved fingers brushing your arm, steady and warm. “you’re not wrong,” she whispered, her voice rough with emotion. “you’re… you’re everything.”

the words hung between you, shimmering with all you hadn’t dared to say. your heart pounded, loud enough you were sure she could hear it, and you felt the pull between you, a tide you couldn’t resist. You stepped closer, your hand finding hers, your fingers weaving together, bare skin against leather. she stilled, her eyes wide, as if afraid to move, afraid to break the fragile moment.

“Brienne,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath, “i don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

her gaze softened, and something shifted in her - a decision, a surrender. she lifted her free hand, hesitating, then gently cupped your cheek, her touch so careful, like you were made of glass. her thumb brushed your skin, and you leaned into it, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment, the warmth of her grounding you.

“you don’t have to be.” she murmured, her voice low and sure, like an oath.

you opened your eyes, meeting hers, and the world seemed to fall away—the betrothal, the castle, the weight of duty - until it was just you and her, bathed in moonlight. you tilted your head, your breath mingling with hers, and then, slowly, as if drawn by the stars themselves, you leaned in.

Brienne met you halfway, her lips brushing yours, tentative at first, soft and uncertain, like she was afraid she might hurt you. but when you pressed closer, a small, desperate sound escaping your throat, she deepened the kiss, her hand sliding to the back of your neck, holding you with a gentleness that made your heart ache. her lips were warm, tasting faintly of the night air; and the world spun, bright and brilliant, as if the stars had fallen into your chest.

it was brief, too brief, and when you parted, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads resting together, her hand still cradling your face. her eyes were wide, searching yours, a mix of wonder and fear, like she couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“i…” she started, her voice hoarse, but you shook your head, a small, trembling smile on your lips.

“don’t,” you whispered. “don’t say anything. just… stay.”

she nodded, a warm smile on her face. her thumb brushed your cheek once more, and for a moment, you simply stood there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the stars outside bearing witness. the world could wait. for now, this - her, you, this fragile, perfect moment - was enough.

[sawarusi]

teen!vi x piltovian!reader (pt. 3)

Perched

part 1 part 2 part 4

you hesitated - not because you didn’t want to follow her, but because your body needed a moment to catch up with your heart. everything in you had gone quiet and loud at once. your thoughts blurred, like wind-stirred pages. your pulse thrummed behind your ribs, as if it recognized something sacred about this. not the place. her.

Vi didn’t look back right away. she didn’t ask again. she just started walking, slow at first, like she trusted you would follow. like she knew you were already halfway there.

and she was right.

your feet moved before your mind caught up -pulled by something unspoken. not curiosity. not recklessness. something softer. something like gravity, but made of warmth.

you didn’t think about the risk. thoughts of danger, getting caught sneaking out, the rules, the consequences, the locked doors back home. you didn’t care. not when she was already walking ahead, and your heart had already followed.

you trailed just behind her at first, eyes wide, senses stretching to take everything in. the sounds, the colors, the way the shadows moved differently here. the way the air felt different - denser, maybe. heavier.

Vi turned her head slightly, catching your eye over her shoulder. her expression was unreadable at first, but her gaze lingered just a beat too long. like she was checking to make sure you were still close.

you were. closely following her steps, just a meter behind her. Vi walked in front of you in silence, hands deep in her pockets, gaze flicking from shadow to alley to rooftop like she was half-expecting trouble, half-guiding you like Virgil.

you weren’t sure what to say, so you didn’t. and maybe that was the right thing - because Vi didn’t seem to need words. just your presence.

the deeper you walked, the more the city unfolded - layers of neon and rust, tangled wires overhead like glowing vines, the distant hum of pipes and engines.

there was laughter echoing somewhere nearby. A vendor shouting over music. a small kid darted past with a paint-splattered bag and the brightest eyes you’d ever seen. no one paid you much mind, but you felt the weight of the place settle over your shoulders like something intimate - like a secret being shared.

Vi slowed her steps as you reached a narrow street strung with old, faded lights. some of them blinked weakly. one glowed a dull pink that cast soft shadows over her features as she finally turned to face you.

“still breathing?” she asked, that smirk tugging at her lips again.

you nodded, brushing some of your stray hair strands behind your ear. "barely." that got a low chuckle, "you'll get used to it, Piltie."

you paused for a while to take in the surrounding landscape. as you looked around, a harsh realization came to you - you looked way out of place. your pristine Piltovan coat and polished boots screamed outsider, and the locals noticed. a group of Zaunites lounging against a graffiti-streaked wall shot you sharp, sidelong glares, their whispers carrying a jagged edge.

Vi noticed how uneasy you've become; she shrugged off her red jacket-that worn, cropped thing that hugged her shoulders just right-and gave it to you.

“here, put this on,” she said, her voice low but firm, with a tiny hint of care. “unless you wanna get jumped.”

“thank you,” you murmured, slipping it on after disposing of your own coat. the fabric was warm from her body, carrying the faint scent of leather, sweat. it clung to you, oversized but grounding, and as you pulled it tighter, that familiar flutter stirred in your stomach, softer this time, like butterflies settling after a storm. Vi’s gaze lingered, her lips twitching into a half-smirk, and for a moment, the hostile stares faded.

"c'mon, let's continue. there's this one place i really want to show you." and with that she turned away and began walking.

she led you through a twisting stairwell and out onto a rooftop that overlooked a tangle of bridges and glowing signs. some of the lights flickered. some didn’t glow at all. but the view was oddly mesmerizing - like a painting that never stopped moving. Vi sat down at the edge and stretched out her legs, boots scuffing the cracked concrete. you followed, settling beside her, your knees almost touching.

neither of you spoke for a while. the city filled the silence with noise - faraway shouting, distant rumbling, the high whine of a hoverbike passing somewhere overhead.

"this is where I come when I need to breathe,” Vi said eventually, still looking ahead at the city. “not much space for that down there.”

you glanced over to her. “I like it,” you said “i mean, it’s a little… terrifying. but kinda magical too.”

her eyes met yours, and a small smile curved her lips, warm and unguarded, like you’d surprised her. “magical, huh? never heard a Piltie call Zaun that before.” she leaned closer, just a fraction, her shoulder brushing yours, and the contact sent a spark through you, quick and electric. “you’re weird, you know that? in a good way.”

you laughed, heat creeping up your cheeks, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, your fingers grazing the collar of her jacket. “that's so corny, Vi." you chuckled and paused. ''maybe I’m just seeing it through your eyes." you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. her smile faltered for a heartbeat, something softer flickering in her gaze - something that looked almost like hope, or fear, or both. she didn’t pull away, though, and the air between you felt heavier now, charged with unspoken things.

her hand shifted on the concrete, her pinky brushing against yours, and you froze, your heart stumbling over itself. “this place… it’s not like your shiny towers... it chews up soft things.” she glanced at you, her eyes searching, like she was waiting for you to flinch, to run back to the safety of Piltover.

but you didn’t. you thought of your parents’ cold questions, their locked doors, the loneliness you felt. “maybe i’m not as soft as you think,” you said, meeting her gaze. “or maybe i just… like the way this feels. with you.”

Vi’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, her breath catching as your words hung in the air. the pinkish blush making its way onto her soft cheeks. the neon glow of Zaun’s skyline flickered across her face, softening the sharp lines of her jaw, and for once, she didn’t have a quick retort. her lips parted, then closed, like she was wrestling with something she wasn’t used to feeling. “you’re something else, Piltie.” she finally said, her voice low, almost a whisper, but the crooked grin that followed was softer than you’d ever seen, like you’d cracked something open in her.

she shifted a bit closer, her knee brushing yours once again, the contact sent that familiar flutter spiraling through your chest. the city’s hum - distant shouts, the clank of pipes, the faint whine of a hoverbike - all seemed to fade, leaving only the warmth of her presence and the scent of rust and charred spices on the air. you wanted to hold onto this moment, to freeze it before Zaun’s chaos could pull you both away.

then, after a while of pleasant silence, she reached into her pants' pocket and pulled something out. a butterfly pin-uneven wings, wire slightly bent, but catching the light like it was made of stars. Vi turned it over in her fingers for a moment, then held it out to you.

“Powder made this for you. said you gave her the best teddy she’s ever had. she even named it Mr. Winnie, by the way.”

you laughed softly and affectionate. “she named it? how adorable!”

“of course she did. she thinks he’s magic or something.” she giggled, "she says that he's been bringing her luck"

“he might be.” you said, running your thumb over the butterfly’s bent wing. the metal was cool but warmed under your touch, and you felt that flutter again, stronger now, echoing the pin’s delicate shape. you thought of the empty space on your collarbones, where your own butterfly necklace used to rest, and how this felt heavier, more real, like a piece of Vi’s world you could carry.

Vi tilted her head, her eyes warm, curious, a little vulnerable. “you believe in that kind of thing?”

you met her gaze, your heart stuttering under the weight of her question. “i think i might be starting to.” you said, your voice steady despite the chaos in your chest. you hesitated, then pinned the butterfly to her jacket, just above your heart, your fingers trembling slightly. Vi’s hand followed yours, her calloused fingertips brushing your knuckles as she adjusted the pin, her touch lingering like a quiet promise. the air between you felt electric, heavy with things neither of you were ready to name.

you both stared down at the butterfly pin, the little thing catching glints of the rooftop neon - purples, pinks, ghostly greens. it sparkled like it knew it was special. like it had been waiting for this moment too.

“it suits you,” Vi said after a while, her voice quiet, the edge gone. "it's just as soft and delicate as you." she said, probably way more tenderly than she wanted. her tough persona was really cracking now.

you felt your breath catch, your heart curling in on itself like it didn’t know how to handle the way she said it - like it meant something. like you meant something. to her.

“you- you think I’m delicate?” you whispered, a small, shy giggle catching in your throat, not mocking - just surprised. moved. you looked up at her, her gaze was already set on you.

“yeah,” she said simply.

you blinked, her words settling over you like warmth, like a blanket pulled up to your chin on a cold night. you didn’t know what to say. maybe there wasn’t anything to say.

so you didn’t speak. you just… continued to look at her.

her eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, like she'd shed her armor for a moment and forgot to put it back on.

the wind picked up around you, brushing your hair gently against your cheeks. you moved to tuck a strand behind your ear, but Vi beat you to it — her hand rising, hesitating just inches from your face. waiting. you didn’t move.

she reached forward carefully, brushing the strand aside her fingers. her touch was feather-light, like she was afraid to push too hard, to press too far. not to shatter you. when her fingers lingered against your cheek, neither of you pulled away.

her breath hitched - just slightly - and you felt it, warm and close, as she shifted closer to you.

“i don’t know what you’re doing to me.” she whispered, like a secret she didn’t mean to say out loud.

your heart was no longer fluttering - it was soaring.

“maybe it’s just new,” you said, your voice small. “sometimes… softness can feel scary when you’ve never had a safe place to land.”

Vi blinked like that hit her deeper than she expected. she dropped her hand slowly, her hand brushing against your cheek one last time before settling it back in her lap.

the silence returned, but this one felt full. laced with everything unspoken.

you looked down again at the butterfly. Your fingers touched it absentmindedly, feeling the little curves, the slightly bent wire. and then you reached over, gently took Vi’s hand in yours, and placed it over the pin.

she looked startled at first - like she wasn’t used to being offered something instead of taking it. but she didn’t move. her fingers rested over yours, and for a second, neither of you breathed.

“it’s soft,” you said, “but it’s not fragile.”

your gaze met hers again, and something clicked - quiet and certain. Vi’s throat bobbed. her fingers tightened just slightly around yours. she didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. her eyes said everything; you saw them sparkle with something like hope, longing and love.

she exhaled - the kind of exhale that sounded like release. like trust. "you're staying, right?" she asked softly, almost like she was afraid to hear the answer. “here. with me.”

“as long as you’ll have me.” you said.

and Vi melted. she didn’t say anything after that.

she just let your hand stay in hers, warm between her calloused fingers. you both looked out at the city again. Zaun stretched below you in tangled veins of light and steel, and smoke, but up here, there was only breath. stillness. the soft hum of something beginning.

you didn’t know what came next. you didn’t need to.

for now, this was enough - the jacket around your shoulders, the butterfly on your chest, her hand wrapped around yours like it belonged there.

Vi didn’t let go.

and neither did you.

you were both perched beside each other like lovebirds.

[sawarusi]

teen!vi x piltovian!reader (pt. 2)

Fluttered

part 1 part 3 part 4

two days have passed since the break-in.

and just two days is what it took for your parents to spiral. they immediately alarmed the enforcers on the first day, installed some security system, switched every lock on every door, and replaced your balcony door. there were even whispered conversations about 'installing cameras' and 'hiring someone private.' they had to know who dared to do that. they asked you all the possible questions, interrogating you as if you were the suspect.

but the worst part? they didn’t ask if you were okay.

only what was stolen.

only what could be replaced.

on the second day, your parents had to get back to their work; the hospital couldn't run on its own. you were forbidden from leaving the house, though. your security likely not being the reason, but rather that they believed your presence was deterrent enough. all those precautions, and they couldn't even hire a security guard to do that. how lovely.

but that was yesterday.

today, you woke up once again to the peace of your parents' absence. you’re still not allowed to leave, but no one’s home to enforce it. not even a check-in text. whatever. you stared at the ceiling for a while before dragging yourself out of bed and adjusting your plushies. that one missing teddy serving as a reminder of her. you touched your collarbone absentmindedly - where the butterfly necklace used to rest. it was gone now. but somehow… you didn’t feel like you'd lost anything.

the truth was, for those past two days, all you could think about was Vi. your mind kept looping through that night like a film reel stuck on the most vivid scene. her voice, her eyes, the way she looked at you - scared, but still strong. She stirred up something you didn’t quite have words for yet: curiosity, empathy, worry… affection. and beneath all of it, an ache. a kind of longing that settled in your chest like a bruise you kept pressing, just to feel it again.

you shook yourself out of it and padded to the kitchen, making a cup of tea - something warm to distract your hands, something simple to anchor your thoughts. minutes later, you found yourself standing by the window, tea cooling in your hands, eyes drifting toward the street below. you kept glancing toward the alley which lead to the passage to the undercity. images of her began to haunt your mind again - bruised and bleeding, wild and cautious. and yet, the most vivid detail was how gently she’d looked at you when she said your name.

maybe it was foolish. maybe it was just wishful thinking. but a part of you was still hoping she’d come back. you took a sip of your tea, now lukewarm and slightly bitter. you exhaled slowly, about to turn away - and then you saw her.

half-hidden in shadow, hood up, hands in her pockets, head tilted just slightly upward. like she’d been standing there for a while. like she’d been waiting for you to look. your heart stuttered.

she didn’t wave. didn’t shout. just stood there, looking directly at you

and somehow, despite everything - the lock on the balcony, the rules, the risk - your feet were already moving.

you didn’t remember setting the cup down. didn’t remember grabbing your coat. just the feeling - that soft electric pull in your chest, drawing you closer to the window, to the door, to her.

you slipped quietly through the back entrance of the building, careful not to let the gate creak. your shoes tapped lightly against the pavement as you crossed into the alley, heart beating louder than your footsteps.

she was still there. waiting.

Vi looked up as you approached, and for a second, neither of you said anything. her hood was still up, shadows of towering buildings softening the sharpness of her features.

and you stood there, in front of her, too stunned to speak, just looking at her in quiet awe. part of you still hasn't fully processed that this is happening.

"[Y/N]?" Vi spoke up, trying to break you out of your trance. "you okay?"

you jumped slightly as you were brought back to reality. "y-yeah! more than okay!" you said unable to contain your true excitement of meeting her again. Vi chuckled at your reaction. "how's your wound?" you asked with worry.

"good, you really are some sort of miracle worker! i've never had a wound this severe hurt so little - and that's saying something," she giggled after adding the last comment "i don't even feel it!"

you smiled at her response, her good condition warming your heart. "i'm super glad to hear that."

a pleasant silence fell between you two, as you just took in each other's features. you noted how her nose was peppered with freckles - a beautiful constellation decorating her cute, but fierce face. you also noticed a pinky blush shyly creeping onto her cheeks. you impulsively smiled.

Vi grew aware of her bashful state, now avoiding eye contact. she cleared her throat “...so,” she said, voice low, trying to be casual “you survived the interrogation.”

"wha - how'd you know?" you asked, your curiosity peeking. a thought crossed your mind "did you come back the next day?" you asked.

Vi puckered her lips and playfully looked around, "maaaybe..."

"didn't know you were a peeping Tom" you raised a brow, matching her playful demeanor.

"i couldn't wait! i had to come back and check up on you." she paused for a while. "it's not my fault that the broken balcony door made it so easy to eavesdrop! wait... okay, that was my fault, but still!" throughout this whole monologue, Vi was constantly using intense gesticulation. her theatrics had no match.

you giggled, arms folding. “yeah, and for your information, i barely survived that interrogation. they installed a security system that probably has more tech than a prison. you should be impressed.”

Vi leaned back at the wall behind her, putting her hands back into her pockets. “i am impressed. especially that you’re out here breaking your own house arrest just to see me.” she smirked.

you got thrown away by her look, your heart stuttering once again. afer a second you got yourself together and responded “i figured if someone was gonna lead me into trouble, it might as well be you.”

Vi tilted her head, her smirk turned into a cocky grin, crooked, but still somehow shy around the edges.

“that so?” she said, turning slightly and nodding her head toward the deeper parts of the streets leading Zaun. “then come on, Piltie. time to see what it looks like when things aren’t so… polished."

you felt something in your stomach turn, twist, untwist, spin, whirl and flutter.

so that's how the butterfiles feel...

im soooo happy that the first part was so well received!!!! omg im so thankful to and for all of you!!! i hope you will also like this part,

love yall<33

[sawarusi]

teen!vi x piltovian!reader (around vi's age) (pt. 1)

Caught

part 2 part 3 part 4

please forgive me for any grammar/spelling mistakes, im not a native english speaker :)

it was a very peaceful evening - your parents thankfully went out on some kind of fancy event; you finally had some time alone, without them being on your neck constantly talking about your future. both of your parents are well-known doctors in Piltover, and so they expect you to take the same path as them.

after laying on your bed and thinking about all of your parents’ bullshit, you decided to take a bath, which you hoped would help you relax and forget about their expectations, at least for a couple of minutes. you got up from your bed and took your pajamas hanging on your desk chair. you glanced over at the many medical textbooks sitting on your desk and sighed. before you went to the bathroom you closed your balcony door as it was getting colder, then turned off the lights. now it was time for you.

unbeknownst to you, a certain group of teens were planning on robbing your home tonight. little man knew of the event your parents were going to attend, like many other known people in your city. since it was an amazing opportunity to get their hands on some fancy stuff, he didn't hesitate to share this information with Vi and the gang. And here they were today, in front of your penthouse, completely invisible under the darkness of night. Mylo had no problem with lockpicking your front door, swiftly letting everyone in.

all three of them started pillaging everything thst looked at least a bit pricey. after taking everything they wanted, they headed upstairs. Claggor and Mylo went to the main bedroom, while Vi and Powder were looking around. when powder saw your room, she immediately went inside. she was in absolute awe and called Vi over. ‘look at how pretty this room is! I wish ours looked like this too’ said powder as she sat on your bed and admired your teddy collection. Vi smiled at how precious her sister looked and sat next to her ‘i wish so too’.

as the two sisters sat on your bed, surrounded by soft lights and pastel-colored pillows, Powder couldn’t help but hug one of your larger teddies close to her chest. “do you think… someone like this would even notice if a teddy went missing?” she asked quietly, almost to herself.

Vi gave her a look, half amused, half scolding. “we’re not here for toys, Powder,” she said, though her tone was gentle. “we gotta move.”

just then, the sound of a door squeaking reached their ears. Vi froze.

Powder’s eyes widened. “wait… someone’s still here?” Vi stood up quickly. “Shit,” she hissed, grabbing Powder’s hand. “we have to go. now!”

but before they could even reach the hallway, you stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, hair damp, face flushed from the heat of the bath. your eyes locked with Vi’s immediately. for a second, no one moved.

you blinked. “...what the hell?”

adrenaline rushed through Vi's veins. with Powder's hand still in hers, they ran back to your room, Vi punched your balcony door, making a a hole and splattering glass everywhere. "c'mon, Powder! i'll go after you!" all she cared about now was ensuring Powder will escpae safely. she was sure Mylo and Claggor are good by themselves.

you chased after them, heart racing. Powder ducked through the shattered frame and disappeared into the night like a shadow slipping away.

Vi followed - but halfway through, pain shot through her side.

“ah fuck!” she hissed as the pointy bottom edge of the broken glass scraped across her stomach. She stumbled back, gritting her teeth, unable to push through.

you stopped in your tracks, staring at the blood starting to spread across her shirt. Vi backed up a step, hand pressed to her side. “i -i’m sorry,” she stammered. her voice cracked. “please... don’t call the Enforcers.”

the fear in her eyes wasn’t just fear of being caught - it was fear of losing someone. you saw that now, plain as day. she wasn’t just a thief. she was something more. someone with something to lose. you rushed to her, ''where's the wound?! show me!." to her surprise, you weren't trying to fight her, not even screaming at her. you were... trying to help her?

Vi listened. she lifted up her shirt to give you full access to it. you examined it carefully, ''you're in luck, 'cause it's not too deep," you flashed her a gentle smile. she was clearly confused.

you grabbed ypur fisrt aid kit and began to patch her up.

"...why," she whispered while looking up at you, "why are you helping me? i'm a thief"

you didn’t answer right away.

instead, your hands moved with quiet focus - dabbing antiseptic gently onto her skin, placing a gauze pad, securing it with tape. you felt her flinch once or twice, but she didn’t pull away. not even when your fingers brushed just a little too close to her ribs.

finally, you looked up. “because I know what it’s like,” you said softly. “to feel like the world’s already decided who you are, what you’re allowed to want. To have people expect you to follow a path that never felt like yours to begin with.”

Vi blinked at you. her breathing had steadied, but her eyes were still wide, still guarded. you gave a small shrug. “besides… you have a valid reason to be doing... that" you paused for a while, "it must be hard in the underground."

Vi glanced toward the broken balcony. “yeah…" she paused. “oh my, Powder!! i forgot, i need to get back to her! she’ll freak out if i don’t show up soon.”

“right,” you said, stepping back and giving her some space. “but take it slow. that cut might be shallow, but glass can be tricky.”

she stood, wobbling slightly at first, and you instinctively reached out to steady her. she didn’t flinch this time. “im Vi,” she said after a beat.

You smiled faintly. “it was nice to meet you, Vi. even if it was… under very questionable circumstances.” that got a smirk out of her. “you’re not gonna report us?”

you shook your head. “of course not! and actually, take this too" you said while taking off your butterfly necklace and handed it to her. ''that's gotta be pricey" you smiled at her.

Vi was slightly taken aback by your gesture "i think... i think i'll keep it" she said and returned the smile. she moved toward the balcony again but paused at the frame, turning back to you. “hey. what’s your name?”

"[Y/N]"

she gave you one last look - something like gratitude, something like curiosity. “thank you, [Y/N]. For not being what I expected.”

and then, she was gone, slipping into the night just like her sister had. you stood there for a long moment, staring at the broken glass glittering on the floor like stars fallen from the sky.

when your parents came home, they noticed the whole mess and were obviously shocked and concerned. they came to your room and found you 'sleeping'. they decided to talk to you first thing in the morning tomorrow.

after they went to their bedroom, you sat up at your bed and faced your balcony, tonight's events circling in your head. that Vi girl really made something in you shift. but is it on philosophical level - your perception of the undercity people, or on a different level... emotional? you could feel a little crush growing.

you laid down again, plopping your head next to your many teddies. without one teddy bear though - now in Powder’s arms, clutched to her chest as she curled up beside Vi in a run-down hideout far from your polished apartment. Vi also was holding onto something - your necklace. she held it close to her chest and reminisced about you, her saviour, a pure soul, an angel.

[sawarusi]

jacob black x f!reader

Puzzled

jacob deserves more love and i'll die on that hill!!!!!!! btw I'm not a native speaker, eng isn't my first language, so apologies in advance for any mistakes ;p

Jacob has been feeling down lately. his childhood crush just chose a bloodsucker, a sworn enemy to his kin over him. because of that, he often found himself hanging out on the lonely shores of the La Push beach, where he sought calm - and today was no exception. the chilly morning breeze lightly brushed his sitting form as he was deep in his thoughts. he was battling his own self in his mind - on one side trying to come up with a way, a scheme to get Bella back, to help her realize who she's bonded with. and on the other hand trying to just forget her, to move on and start a new chapter. but how? was the question getting him on the edge. he was all alone with his problem, no other person that could suggest any other way than his own. his mind was like a pile of puzzles with no pieces sorted out yet, just chaos.

the sun has risen, not fully, but enough to start reflecting off the water. some stray rays have hit his face, breaking him out of his trance. he instinctively shook and tilted his head to avoid the blinding lights. out of the corner of his eye, he saw a person walking their dog in a close distance. he just brushed it off and went back to pondering.

after a while of dissociating, Jacob was once again brought back to reality, but this time by something touching his shoulder. he turned to the direction from which it came - to his pleasant surprise it was a cute doggo sniffing his shirt. he automatically smiled and pet the cuddly pup, which was now headbutting him to get even more attention and pets.

"[dog's name]!" a voice was heard from nearby "cm'ere girl!!"

the dog, still enjoying Jake's affection, didn't nudge at all, ignoring any calls. she was way too comfortable to comply. the boy also seemed unbothered. "oh, so sorry, she managed to break free from her leash" the girl chuckled nervously. jacob looked up at her and smiled while lightly shaking his head "it's alright. she's really cute", he said while continuing to pet your fluffball. you sat down next to them as you realized she won't leave him anytime soon. you took a closer look at the boy, "hey, aren't you cold?" you noticed that he wasn't really dressed accordingly to the weather - it was quite chilly.

Jacob shrugged, glancing down at his bare arms like he hadn’t even noticed the cold until now. “not really,” he said with a faint smirk. “perks of running a little warmer than most people, i guess.”

you raised a brow, intrigued. “right, like some sort of internal heater?” you teased, hugging your knees for warmth. Your pup, completely in love with her new human friend, flopped over onto her back, demanding belly rubs. Jacob laughed softly and obliged, his fingers gently scratching her stomach.

“i’m Jacob, by the way” he offered, finally meeting your eyes properly. There was a flicker of something behind them - sadness, maybe - but also a quiet curiosity.

“nice to meet you, Jacob. I’m [Y/N], and that furball is [dog's name]” you said, nodding toward your dog. “She clearly has a good taste in people.”

Jacob chuckled again, the sound a little warmer this time. “yeah, she’s got good instincts, i guess.” He paused, watching the waves roll in for a moment. “so, do you always walk around here this early?”

"only when i need to clear my head” you replied honestly. “my pup hates mornings, but she tolerates them when there’s a beach involved.”

“that makes two of us,” he said with a soft smile. “i come here for the same reason.”

a comfortable silence fell between you, broken only by the soft rush of the tide and the occasional bark from your fluffball.

you glanced at him again. “you okay?” He was't too good at hiding his emotions.

he hesitated. “not really” he admitted. “but this… helps.”

you nodded, not pressing further. Instead, you reached into your bag and pulled out a spare thermos. “i've got some tea. Would you like some? It’s got ginger and cinnamon - might go well with your ‘naturally warm’ vibe” you said with a friendly smile.

Jacob blinked, surprised by the offer, then accepted it with a grateful nod. “thanks.”

You both sipped in silence for a while. The sun slowly climbed higher, casting golden hues on the sand and water. [dog's name] curled up between you two, finally dozing off.

“i guess… maybe forgetting isn’t the only way,” Jacob said quietly, mostly to himself. “maybe moving on isn’t about leaving everything behind. maybe it’s about finding something - or someone - new worth moving toward.”

you didn’t know exactly what he meant, but the way he said it made something shift inside you, too - like you were part of that new direction he hadn’t fully realized yet. you shifted closer towards him, your shoulder brushed lightly against his, but he didn't really mind.

and for the first time in weeks, Jacob felt the pieces of his mind begin to settle - just a little. the puzzle wasn’t complete, not yet. but maybe, just maybe, he’d found the corner piece.

omg i hope you guys will like it!!!! that's literally my first, like, longer and major ff :O also any feedback will be heavily appreciated<3