#but i just. they make me so incredibly soft.
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calicocita · 3 days ago
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SUKUNA RYOMEN: ❝ NOT JEALOUS. ❞
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sukuna couldn't help the primal urge that overtook him every time he noticed another man looking at you.
no, looking wasn't the right word, eye fucking you, his perfect beautiful wife, right in front of him.
it happened more times than he could keep track of. at the mall when you dragged him along with you to run your little errands. at your job when he'd go to drop you off or pick you up. even at his job, he'd be forced to witness his own colleagues gawking at you with their jaws on the floor whenever you dropped by to see him at his office.
as if all of that wasn't enough to drive him feral, you were just completely oblivious to it. of course.
maybe that's why you didn't notice what he was doing at first. since you two started dating, ryomen would always touch you in public. like a lot.
you didn't suspect anything when he grabbed you by the waist wherever you went. or when he started holding your neck when you waited in lines, kissing your jaw and that soft spot behind your ear, which always made you giggle. or even when he kissed you so deeply and for so long—in the middle of the street in broad daylight—you had to take a moment to catch your breath.
it wasn't until things escalated that you started to wonder if there might be something behind his behavior.
it was at his office's christmas party, while he was making speech in front of all his colleagues about something you couldn't pay attention to, because while he rose one glass to the public with one hand, he simply slid his other hand down your back, squeezing your ass for everyone to see.
to say that you were pissed at him was an understatement.
you waited until you two got home to scream at his face about how incredibly inappropriate he had behaved.
"as if you didn't like it." sukuna teased, getting as close to you as you would allow him. "what? you want me to just stand there while those little shits eye fuck my wife in front of me?!"
"no one was eye fucking me, ryo—"
"c'mon, baby, be fucking for real with me, now." you let him get closer now, his large hands enveloping your waist. "you can't be that innocent." you tried looking away from him, but he grabbed you by your neck forcing you to face him. "do you really think there was even one man at that party who wasn't looking at you?"
"you're jealous?" you scoffed at him, and you immediately felt his grip tighten around your neck, making you involuntarily squirm under his touch.
"i am not jealous." sukuna snarled, tilting his head to the side, with a predatory smile that didn't reach his eyes. "what i am is fucking pissed at all those fuckers lusting after my wife."
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downbad4sylus · 10 hours ago
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“You kept your name”
(part 2 to “I killed you”)
synopsis: You and Sylus take a ride to an eerily familiar field of flowers on the outskirts of the N109 Zone.
content: sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; soft!sylus; pre-relationshipish; cameo from the twins; smol angst; tooth-rotting fluff; kissing; possibly canon divergence (i make shit up about present-day sylus since we don’t have all the answers yet); mostly proofread
word count: ~3k (whoops)
tags: @evilldentists; @midiplier; @chillycheem
a/n: incredibly grateful for all the love for the first part so hope you all enjoy the second part just as much!!! anyone interested in a nsfw special part 3 >>;;;)))))
You had a much easier time falling back to sleep than you thought you would. Perhaps the exhaustion of reliving your past coupled with a weight you didn’t even realize you’d had finally being lifted off your shoulders.
When morning came, you woke again nestled in the same position you’d fallen asleep in, head resting on Sylus’s chest listening to his unusually rapid heartbeat. Though now, you supposed, it wasn’t quite so unusual.
You lifted your head and found Sylus still asleep. It was rare for you to wake before him, and you always took the time to admire his sleeping face. Carefully, you ghosted a finger toward his face, intent on lightly tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips—
Sylus’s hand snatched your wrist. “Having fun?” he drawled, not even opening his eyes.
“You ruined my fun before I could start,” you whined, sticking out your bottom lip.
Sylus chuckled and laced his fingers through yours. “Surely you’ll forgive me, won’t you?”
“I guess,” you muttered.
“How generous.”
You propped yourself up by your forearm as Sylus finally opened his eyes to meet your own. “Are you sure it’s okay we go? I know you don’t like being out during the day.”
He brought your linked hands to his face, twisting them to brush his lips along the back of yours. “I’ll be fine,” he assured. “It’s supposed to be overcast today anyway.”
“Okay, as long as you’re sure.”
“I always am with you, sweetie.”
Your heart squeezed. Such an innocuous statement yet it held profound meaning.
Sylus sucked in a deep breath. “Let me at least make us breakfast first before we go.”
You perked up. You loved it when Sylus cooked for you. “Do I get to sit at the island and watch?”
He chuckled. “Of course.”
Hardly able to contain your excitement, you leapt out of bed, dragging Sylus along with you out of the bedroom, into the hallway, all the way to the kitchen. You didn’t even give the man a chance to put on pants.
Rather than sitting at the island, as it was much too far away from him, you perched on the counter beside the stove, watching Sylus expertly cook two perfect omelets. Once they were plated, you both sat at the island, so close your thighs were touching. Before you could pick up your fork and knife, however, Sylus had already cut a piece of his omelet and was holding it in front of your face.
“Open,” he commanded.
You obeyed, cheeks heating as you opened your mouth and he placed the bite on your tongue.
“Now close,” he purred, sliding the fork from your lips, eyes trained intently on yours. “Good kitten.”
Trying very hard not to choke, you chewed the savory bite, moaning at how good it was. Sylus’s lips twitched in smug satisfaction.
“It’s so good, Sy,” you said after you swallowed, already digging in to the omelet on your own plate.
“Only the best for you, sweetie,” Sylus quipped, taking a bite himself.
Sylus insisted on feeding you once he scarfed down his omelet faster than you could keep track of. You protested at first, saying you weren’t a child, but when he pinched your chin and drawled in that deep, silky voice of his “You’ll be a good kitten for me, won’t you?” you folded instantly.
Cheeks as red as his eyes, you let Sylus start feeding you the remaining half of your omelet, losing yourself in the intimate moment—
“Boss? Miss Hunter?”
Your head whipped to the side before you could take the bite Sylus offered, eyes going wide when you found Luke and Kieran standing at the edge of the kitchen. Even with their masks on, you knew they had shit-eating grins on their faces.
“Uh, hi…guys,” you muttered, swiveling on the stool, giving them your back, too embarrassed to face them.
“Were we interrupting something?” Kieran asked.
Sylus placed a hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing soothingly. “Just breakfast,” he stated simply.
“Why are you having breakfast, Boss?” Luke asked. “You aren’t usually awake at this time.”
“Y/N and I are going on an impromptu trip today, which means you’re both in charge while I’m gone.” His voice took a bit of a sharp edge as he said, “I don’t want to be bothered.”
“Of course, Boss,” said Luke.
“You can count on us!” finished Kieran.
Sylus hummed in approval, squeezing your thigh. You looked over at him and was surprised that he was holding another piece of omelet for you to eat.
“Sylus,” you hissed, eyes darting over to where the twins now stood across the island. Did this man have no shame?
He tilted his head. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” he asked teasingly. “Not hungry anymore?”
“Can we have the rest of your omelet, Miss Hunter?”
You turned again, now looking at the twins. The thought of having them witness Sylus feeding you was enough to make you lose what was left of your appetite.
You snatched the fork from Sylus’s hand, threw it onto the plate, and pushed it toward the twins. “Knock yourselves out.”
They cheered their thanks and immediately dug in, lifting their masks only enough so they could shovel fork fulls into their mouths. You ignored Sylus’s frown and instead grabbed his wrist, leading him from the kitchen back to his bedroom.
Around a half hour later, you and Sylus had changed (the man had a closet full of clothes just for you, obviously) and were making your way to his bike.
Staring at the sleek motorcycle, you wondered idly if Sylus preferred riding to driving because it reminded him of flying. You’d ridden on the back of his bike enough times to know he frequently ignored speed limits and you’d even caught him a few times without a helmet. You weren’t sure if the half-crazed lecture you’d given him about not caring about his safety actually got through to him, but Sylus made sure to have a helmet on every time you saw him after that. Not that it mattered, only you could kill him anyway, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to get injured.
Knuckles rapping softly on your forehead tore you from your thoughts.
“Did I lose you, kitten?” Sylus asked with a smirk.
“Sorry,” you breathed. “I was just…thinking.”
His head tilted. “About what?”
You gnawed at your bottom lip, unsure whether to share said thoughts with him.
Sylus pressed his thumb against your lip, tugging it free from your teeth. “Don’t bite your lip,” he murmured. “Tell me what you were thinking.”
“I was wondering if you like riding your bike because it reminds you of flying.”
His brows twitched closer, his lips teasing a frown. You instantly regretted what you’d confessed, the last thing you wanted was to upset him.
“I’m not upset,” he said, easily reading your facial expression. “Just a bit caught off guard.”
“Why?”
“Because you only just remembered our past and you’ve already figured me out.”
You thought back to the puzzle pieces that had been put in place after you’d woken from your memories, how easy it was to understand the Sylus before you now and how his actions reflected the Sylus you’d known then.
You smiled. “I feel like it’s less impressive when you’ve had an advantage over me this whole time,” you protested jokingly. “You figured me out pretty quick, too.”
Sylus chuckled. “I guess that makes us even then.” He reached behind him, grabbing the helmet he’d gotten for you (yes, it had cat ears), and hooked a finger under your chin, tilting it up. “You ready?”
“Yes,” you answered firmly.
He placed the helmet over your head, buckling the strap beneath your chin, and gave it a soft tap when he was finished. He then put on his own helmet before swinging his long leg over the seat, gesturing for you to join behind him.
Seated on the bike, arms wrapped securely around Sylus’s waist, he took off onto the streets of the N109. Your surroundings blurred as he weaved his way through the zone, heading toward the outskirts.
Closing your eyes, you imagined you were on his back while he flew you through the sky. It was freeing, affording you a newfound appreciation for rides with Sylus. Perhaps now they could be reminiscent of the past for the both of you, not just him.
It didn’t take long before the N109 Zone faded into the background, Sylus now riding down a long stretch of road with open fields on either side. There were no flowers though, so you wondered where, exactly, he was taking you.
Your destination became clear however, when a shock of red greeted you on either side of the road.
Sylus slowed the bike to a halt, kicking down the stand and cutting the engine. As he took off his helmet, you remained still, looking out at the field of red flowers that was just like the one in your shared dream. How was this possible? Was it merely a coincidence that these fields existed in this lifetime too?
Your helmet being unbuckled and lifted off your head broke you from your stupor and you found Sylus standing in front of you, waiting patiently with a hand outstretched. You took it, letting him support you as you climbed off the bike. He laced your fingers together once both your feet were on solid ground, and led you forward, into the flowers.
It was surreal, walking through the field beside Sylus. It felt like two worlds colliding, past and present melding together. It made your heart flutter with excitement knowing that this time would be different. This time you’d be damned if you didn’t get your happy ending.
Sylus stopped abruptly, giving you no warning before plopping onto the ground, dragging you down with him. You squealed as you fell into his lap, giggling as he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck.
The first time Sylus found this field of flowers, no different from the one outside of Tarus City, he’d nearly been brought to his knees. He wasn’t one to believe in signs but this one felt undeniable, too much of a coincidence to not mean something. It was before you’d officially met, but it gave him an unfounded confidence that once you did, he’d have his beloved again. He’d promised himself then that he wouldn’t come back here unless it was with you, and now, he’d fulfilled that promise.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, threading your fingers through Sylus’s soft hair.
He hummed, the noise vibrating against your skin. He placed a single, chaste kiss on your pulse point before pulling away and meeting your gaze. “Ask your questions,” he said gently.
You pursed your lips as you decided where to start. “Are you still a dragon?”
Sylus huffed, amused. “Well,” he began, sucking in a breath, “yes and no.”
You raised a brow in silent command for him to continue.
“I’m more human than I am dragon now, but not fully either,” he said.
That certainly explained the strange comments he would make every so often.
“Do you still have wings?”
He nodded.
“Horns?”
Another nod.
“Tail?”
“Yes, kitten, all three.”
You looked at his head, thinking if you stared hard enough, his horns would appear. “But…where are they?”
“Hidden away by my Evol,” Sylus answered. “It takes a lot of energy to do so.”
“Is that why the sunlight bothers you? Is it easier to keep them hidden during the night?”
Sylus smirked. “Clever kitten,” he said, all the confirmation you needed. “What else?”
“Can I see them?” you blurted.
His brows rose in surprise. “Not right now.” When you pouted, he added, “Some other time, when we’re in private.”
“Fine,” you relented. You glanced down at where his arms encircled your waist and slid a hand over one of his. “The linkage is my doing.”
“That’s not a question,” Sylus teased.
“I know,” you said. “Just wanted to get it out in the open, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“When did you realize it was my curse?” you asked instead.
“The first time,” he said simply.
You snorted. “Of course you did.” You lifted your head to meet his striking red eyes. “Is there anything you’re bad at?”
Sylus barked a laugh, causing your heart rate to increase. “I’m sure there’s a few, but I haven’t figured out any of them yet.”
“Ugh, your arrogance is immeasurable sometimes.”
But you still love me, was what Sylus wanted to say, but settled on, “What other questions do you have for me?”
A thought occurred to you suddenly and you sat up straighter in his lap, brows drawing together. “Did you make me shoot you to see if I actually wanted you dead?”
The bastard grinned. “Maybe.”
You slapped his shoulder. “Sylus!”
He was laughing, but damn it did you love to hear him laugh. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”
You shook your head. “You’re insane, that’s what you are.”
“An important trait needed for the leader of Onychinus, something you haven’t shied away from.”
“Guess I’m a bit insane as well,” you muttered.
“Guess so,” Sylus agreed, smiling.
You softened, unable to stay annoyed with him when he looked at you with such tenderness, something he reserved only for you.
You reached up and lightly traced beneath his right eye. “You kept your name.”
“If you couldn’t pronounce my true name, I’m pretty sure no one else would be able to either,” he teased.
You chuckled. “You’re right, Sylus is much easier to pronounce.”
“And it was given to me by my beloved, how could I not keep it?” he murmured.
His beloved. You were his beloved, then and now.
And he was still your dragon, even if the dragon part was currently hidden.
You leaned away from him, something he nearly growled at, but stopped himself when he watched you pick a nearby flower. With a soft smile, you tucked it behind his ear, then slid your hand down to his chest, the same spot you’d once placed a flower in his scales. The same spot he’d hidden the brooch that allowed you free passage through his territory.
“Flowers suit you better than the N109 Zone,” you murmured.
A heartbreakingly tender smile lifted the corners of Sylus’s lips. “That’s the first time someone said those words to me.”
You felt like crying.
“Only you and this flower”—his eyes flicked toward his ear—“can touch me here.”
Sylus picked a flower of his own and placed it in your hair, then cupped your face, running his thumb along your cheek.
Feeling such an undeniable pull toward him despite being already so physically close, you shifted in Sylus’s lap to straddle his hips, wrapping your arms around his neck. He sucked in a sharp breath at the new position, the hand on your face sliding to brace the back of your head.
Running your fingers through the hair at his nape, your eyes darted between his and his lips.
“Do you have any more questions?” he asked breathlessly.
“Just one,” you said.
“What is it?”
“Can the N109 Zone have flowers bloom everywhere, as far as the eye can see?”
“Only for one person.”
Sylus’s lips crashed into yours.
He was firm but gentle, angling your head right where he wanted you as his tongue swept over your bottom lip. You opened for him, whimpering when his tongue slid along yours.
Sylus’s kiss was claiming, taking what was rightfully his. He’d been waiting for this moment since he first laid eyes on you in this lifetime. Waiting for his beloved to come back to him.
Tightening his grip on you, Sylus flipped you onto your back, his body pressing against yours, all without breaking the kiss.
You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging on his strands. Between kisses you managed, “I want…to touch…your horns.”
Sylus groaned and you felt it rumble through his chest. He finally broke away from your lips only to trail open-mouthed kisses across your jaw and down your neck. “Not here,” he said roughly.
You would’ve been more upset had his lips not felt like heaven on your skin.
“Sylus,” you said, pulling his hair to get his attention.
He lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and ears red. “Do you want me to stop?”
You shook your head. “No,” you said, cupping his warm cheek. He nuzzled against your palm. “I love you, Sylus.”
Air whooshed from his lungs and his lips were on yours again. Your souls may have been bound but Sylus was still in disbelief by your confession, even though you’d all but said it last night. Fate—who had always been cruel to him—had finally turned in his favor. There was no curse to separate you this time, only one to keep you by his side. This was a second chance for the both of you, to love each other freely, to explore what life could truly be like together, and now that he had you, Sylus would scorch the earth before he ever let you go again.
He drew back, waiting for you to look him in the eyes before saying, “I love you too, Y/N.”
You huffed an incredulous laugh, tears welling as you stared at the man you loved. Your dragon, with you once again.
Sylus’s loving gaze took on a dangerous glint. “How about we head back to the base and I’ll show you my horns, sweetie?”
With a wide grin, you nodded. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”
Sylus chuckled, placing one last kiss against your lips before hefting you off the ground.
Then hand-in-hand, dragon and sorceress, having been given a second chance at love, walked through a field of flowers where once life ended but now a new one could begin.
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mossangelll · 2 days ago
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HII HOW R U?? I was wondering if u could make a yandere caitvi x reader(like a poly relationship). Just headcannons if u like!! I really love ur postss💗💗
Yandere!Caitvi x Reader Headcanons
i’m great, tysm for requesting! sorry it’s taken me a while to get to this ^^
i was gonna add a section on how they kidnap you (figured i’d use it for a different fic) and an nsfw section but i didn’t know if anyone wanted that so i skipped it this time
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HOW THEY MEET YOU
ok so vi is the one who notices you first - at first, you’re just another person who blends into the crowd at her fights
but then she begins to see you at every single fight of hers without fail, always with a huge handmade sign that says something like “step on ME, vi” or “vi, you’re the BEST!”
she thinks it’s endearing how someone like you, so unassuming and cute, is hanging around shady dens like this just to support her
you manage to catch her at the bar after one of her fights and you two strike up an unlikely friendship
she starts to fall head over heels for you - you don’t seem to care or even notice that she’s a mess
in fact, you’re hellbent on fixing her and she can’t help but have massive heart eyes at this point even though she’d normally find something like this demeaning (she doesn’t need to be saved!)
all her life, she’s chased after the people she loved and prioritised their well-being and now someone’s finally doing the same for her
you make her feel so seen at a time in her life when she feels incredibly lost and worthless
however it’s at this point vi leaves the fighting scene and reconnects with cait - you gave her the strength to do so
vi always feels guilty about this but you’re always in the back of her mind, a hopeful what if to ponder on the lonely nights after a lover’s quarrel with cait
so it’s nothing short of serendipity when cait starts to come home later and later, talking about a new recruit who has potential that needs to be nurtured and look at that - it’s you
cait knows she needs to be faithful to vi, she would never dream of going behind her back, but she’s drawn to you in a way that simultaneously confuses her and excites her
she becomes your mentor and sees parts of herself in you and that just makes her obsession infatuation that much worse
cait blurs the line between appropriate behaviour between a subordinate and their junior; she shows up at your door randomly for a “work assignment” and pries into the private details of your love life
if she finds out you’re dating someone or interested in someone other than her, your work life becomes a living nightmare
you’ll constantly be admonished for the tiniest infractions simply because she’s wants you all to herself and doesn’t know how to express her emotions in a healthy way
vi can’t even find it in herself to be jealous when she sees the lustre in cait’s blue eyes, one that’s only reserved for her, starts to come out whenever she’s around you but she does feel left out, after all, vi found you first
the two end up having a conversation and realise that they can’t live without you in their lives - all to themselves, that is
OK TIME FOR WHAT THEY’RE LIKE IN A RELATIONSHIP
honestly i think vi is the one you can wrap around your pinkie finger - she has such a soft spot for the people she loves and she’s not afraid of making it known
you want more treats? she’ll sneak them in
you want to go outside? ok, but vi is handcuffing you to her and you can only stay out for five minutes
surprisingly she respects your boundaries and tries not to be overly affectionate with you when you don’t want to be, even if it kills her inside
don’t think you can ask to talk to family and friends though, that’s completely off-limits and you will see a sadistic side to vi she doesn’t normally let out
i imagine her punishments would be something to the effect of her saying extremely cruel and upsetting things to you to remind you of your place
she would also be into physical punishments like spanking but not anything that could really hurt you - she would have a breakdown if she hurt you to the point of serious injury and would never forgive herself
cait on the other hand is essentially the “bad cop” in this scenario, it’s not that she doesn’t love you, in fact i would say she’s probably more obsessed than vi is, it’s that she doesn’t want to risk anything bad happening to you whatsoever
she went lax on punishing zaunites and it ended up with her mother dead - she’s not taking any risks when it comes to you
it harder to tell with cait but she does try to show her affection, it’s just not as obvious as the way she acts to vi
she does like to be physically affectionate with you more than vi does but this too is very subtle
she likes to make these actions seem like a necessity when really it’s for her own satisfaction
e.g. she’ll hold you hand and profess it’s because “you might fall over” even though you can see the faint blush on her cheeks - you’re both aware it’s a terrible lie but are equally too embarrassed to mention it
like in my other work, her shows of affection come from giving you books, painting lessons and expensive clothes, etc. - she wants to nurture your talents and expose you to the finer things in life that you’ve missed out on
she lowkey has a superiority complex when it comes to this lmao but i think she does it all to mask her deep insecurities
she doesn’t want to seem weak in front of her darling
her punishments are more harsh. i feel like she would put you in isolation and leave you hungry if you refuse to abide by her or vi’s rules
i hc that this stems from her childhood; her mother would withhold affection (maybe not to this extent) whenever she misbehaved and this way of thinking carried over to adulthood
this means that caitlyn and vi do tend to argue over what they think is best for you and it lowkey gives divorced parents energy - they’re constantly trying to prove themselves right
it’s a very volatile environment to be in
imo this is kinda cait and vi’s way of flirting too 😭 in the aftermath they look back on it like ‘awww she cares so much about our darling she’s willing to fight over them - so cute!’
their relationship stays mostly the same as it was before just a lil more intense
they’d both be yandere for each other, it just manifests a lot more strongly with you
like, they know they can look after themselves but you’re so weak they need to go above and beyond to ensure their most precious darling is safe
they both plan detailed daily routines for you and you’re micromanaged down to the smallest details: how long you can sleep for, the food you eat, the exercises you do, the clothes you wear, the people you can interact with
in my mind, this takes place at the end of s2 so you live with them in cait’s mansion - they’ve both experienced a LOT of trauma which contributes to them developing a codependent relationship and having to drag someone else into their mess
it’s definitely a stifling relationship and it feels like you’re never truly alone, if for some reason they can’t be there with you there’ll always be a trusted maid or enforcer keeping tabs on you
omg wait they definitely give you a diary and say it’s private but at the end of the night they’ll read through it to see if you’re planning anything they wouldn’t agree with
cait came up with the idea and vi thinks it’s a violation of your privacy but she goes along with it anyway
would never admit it but secretly it’s her favourite time of the day (if she respects your physical boundaries, she’s gotta break some other boundaries - give her a break!)
they just want to patch up the pain they feel from all the losses they’ve had to deal with and unfortunately for you, you’re their bandages
masterlist
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comflexxed · 3 hours ago
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june’s gaze softened as he watched hans move through the kitchen, every movement deliberate, filled with care. the mugs set side by side, the delicate preparation of tea, the way hans’s hands lingered over the strawberries — all of it was infused with a love that made june’s chest ache in the best way. he leaned back in his chair, his fingers lightly stroking scooter’s fur as the dog remained by his side.
when hans finally approached the table, carefully balancing their mugs and the bowl of strawberries, june couldn’t help the way his lips curved into a smile. the pride in hans’s voice as he announced breakfast brought a warmth to the room that rivaled the sunlight streaming in through the windows. “it’s perfect,” june murmured, his voice low but heavy with sincerity.
he leaned forward, his hand brushing lightly over hans’s as he accepted the bowl of strawberries. “you didn’t have to make it all so lovely, but i’m glad you did.” his eyes lingered on hans for a moment, taking in the soft glow of his smile, the way his hair caught the morning light.
he picked one out, dipping it into the cream with deliberate slowness, and brought it to his lips, his eyes locked on hans as he took a bite. he felt the sweetness burst om his tongue, and he let out a contented hum. “these are incredible,” he said after swallowing, his smile playful now as he leaned forward. “but i think they’d taste even better if you had the next bite.”
without waiting for a response, june plucked another strawberry from the bowl, dipped it in cream, and held it out to hans, his smile softening. “let me take care of you too, just a little,” he added, his voice quieter but no less firm.
hans got to work as soon as june was settled in his seat, their quiet morning in bed moving to the kitchen now as he prepared for breakfast. it wasn't the same intimate setting in bed, but it still brought a warm, cozy feeling to hans simply because june was there.
while heating some water for their morning tea, he took out the mugs they bought the night before, placing them beside each other as he grinned. the joy of getting these items still hasn’t worn off, and hans ran his fingers through their rim fondly as he placed delicate tea bags within each one. 
next, he washed the strawberries and placed them in a bowl, with some cream to go with them just as june wanted. the strawberries reminded him of another time, another moment where he shared them with june, and he couldn’t help but smile even more, his heart swelling with the recollection. 
he took out the bowls he had bought for scooter and jinx too, placing some of their food within each container. the water reached a boil just in time, and hans filled each of his and june’s mugs with hot water before carrying them to the small breakfast table, careful to avoid the ever-excited scooter whose chin was resting on june's knee but whose attention was on the food in his own bowl.  
“breakfast is served,” he said proudly, his smile echoing the pride in his voice. it was a simple meal, but hans took a great deal to make sure they looked perfect, hoping the strawberries tasted perfect too for their first breakfast at home. with everything on the table now, he sat in the empty seat and pushed the bowl of strawberries closer to june. “go ahead, my darling. you can get the first bite.” 
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prettiestofpisces · 1 day ago
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juju watkins x gf!reader
synopsis: you happen to be juju’s girlfriend and lash tech
fluff✨blurb
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
as juju’s six foot two form laid on your lash bed, you sat down in your swivel chair adjacent from the girls head.
to the right of you was your lash table which held all the materials you’d possibly need for judea.
“so how have you been baby?” you say swiftly playing with juju’s ears.
although you two were newly official, you both have such a tender spot for one another.
knowing each other, growing with each other since highschool, y’all were made incredibly close over the years.
sharing a kiss or two, prolonged cuddles… your relationship was beyond affection yet nothing contained a label at the time.
that was until senior year after learning you’d both be attending southern cal, juju decided to jump the gun. asking you to prom and later on to be her girlfriend
“mmm good…” she hums with her eyes closed.
“too many promotions, practices and flights.”
now your hands caress her cheeks yet you waited to respond.
“you just want some peace and quiet, i understand baby, keep talking to me if you’d like.”
you then alert juju you’re about to start and she, unknowingly yet conscious of something near her eyes, closed them tight without saying anymore.
you pumped a light foam soap over her lashes and began swirling it in, cleansing the hairs or anything foreign.
“what about you?” she spoke out suddenly.
“hm, well i’ve been busy with few clients, classes and missing you but!.. i watched you play kansas and saw you got roughed up” you giggled.
after said, game juju sported a subtle gash on her left cheek due to brutal play. juju never complained but you knew the mark bothered her.
“you can’t tell but i’m rolling my eyes” juju says with a wide smile, following with more banter.
you let out a final chuckle before rinsing off her eyes and proceeding.
after drying you lay tape down on her bottom lashes to secure them and a large piece for your markings and mapping.
“whispy cat eye right ju?”
“yeah ma” she responds so sweetly.
a minute passes as you’re finishing up writing little numbers across the tape you’ve placed and now you’re able to begin lashing.
pluck a singular extension, dip it in glue, place it on a single lash and wait. a simple process yet very demanding.
you hum along to the rnb tunes in the background, filling the silence and soon enough, you hear the subtle snores of the girl in front of you.
as time ticks, it’s been 45 minutes and you’re finished with the left eye moving over to her right.
Please sprout, offer me your tulips
On my fate
You gon' be my blessing tonight
So keep your eyes wide…
♫⋆。♪ ₊˚♬ ゚.
and… you’re done.
slowly lifting the tape from jujus soft skin you crumble the pieces and toss them away. her sleeping form calm and content, you kiss her cheek to wake her.
“ju… baby, i’m finished” you whisper close to her ear. once her eyes flutter open you take it upon yourself to kiss her again, this time two pecks.
juju does a quick stretch of all her joints and crains her arm back hold your face against her own. turning her head to the right she embraces you both in a kiss, an oddly awkward perpendicular kiss but one with so much passion nonetheless.
after releasing, juju takes a deep breath and lets go of you all together.
“thank you” she draws out groggily. sliding off the table as you both stand up from your still positions. her tall lengthy frame towering over you like before.
juju looking rather seductive with her new stare. you stare up at her in return admiring you work, the lashes which accentuate her eyes so nicely, making your own dilate. you couldn’t help yourself.
“you’re so pretty” you squeal before juju pulls you into her chest ever so gently. loving the feeling of comfort you tighten the hug whilst still gazing at one another.
“what are you doing tonight?” your question filled with anticipation.
“staying here with you” juju harps, her blatant statement taking you by surprise yet you were more than okay with it.
“i love when you’re around.”
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆..°
and scene.
sorry i’ve been away, sigh..
just a sophomore in college what can i say however i hope you like this little blurb, its very rushed but i just wanted to post bc postings fun.
muah.
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sosa2imagines · 2 days ago
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Hii, Dad Bucky ask🫶🏼
What would he do with a few months old twins or triplets? And maybe it was mother's day so he wanted to make something really special for reader as it was her first🫶🏼
Hi, thank you so much for this lovely ask. Bucky would absolutely make sure to make Mother's day very special.
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Warning- Pure fluff.
The first rays of dawn were peeking through the curtains when Bucky woke up. He turned his head to look at you, still sound asleep, a peaceful expression on your face. For a moment, he stayed still, memorizing the sight.
Today was special. It was your first Mother’s Day, and Bucky was determined to make it perfect.
Bucky slowly sat up, being careful not to wake you up, and smiled to himself, thinking about today and how it would all go. He softly stroked your hair before slowly climbing out of bed, making sure the comforter was wrapped tightly around you and wouldn't wake you up. He quietly walked out of the bedroom, closing the door to make sure that his movements wouldn't wake you up.
The real challenge, however, lay in the next room.
Samuel Steven Barnes and Natalia Anthony Barnes, your beautiful twins, were already awake and babbling in their cribs. Bucky smiled, running a hand through his hair as he prepared for battle. “Alright munchkins...” he whispered. “Let’s do this for Mommy.”
Dressing the twins was no small feat. By the time Samuel squirmed out of his onesie for the third time and Natalia decided to try her best impression of a gymnast, Bucky was sweating. But he persevered, and finally, both babies were dressed in matching outfits that read ‘World’s Best Mom.’
“Mission accomplished!” he muttered, placing them gently in their bouncy seats. “Now for phase two.”
Breakfast wasn’t exactly his forte, Bucky was grateful for the help from Steve, who had dropped off your favorite dishes from a local breakfast diner. Steve also had given Bucky an apron with the slogan, ‘World’s Best Dad, give Me a Kiss, Mom!’ on it. Bucky laughed as he tied the apron, appreciating Steve's humor, and thinking about how you would appreciate the gesture too.
When everything was ready, he returned to your shared bedroom with the twins in his arms. “Doll…” he called softly. “Wake up.”
You stirred, blinking your eyes open to find Bucky standing there, a baby in each arm and a sheepish smile on his face. Your gaze shifted to the twins’ outfits, and tears welled up as you read the words. “Oh, Bucky…”
“They insisted on dressing up for you,” he said with a grin, carefully handing Samuel to you while Natalia remained cradled in his metal arm.
You kissed each twin on the forehead, your heart swelling with love. “You did all this?”
“Of course!” he replied, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “But we’re just getting started.”
He led you to the kitchen, where breakfast was waiting. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, and fresh fruit. You raised an eyebrow, and Bucky gave you a sheepish smile.
“Fine, I didn’t make it. But I did make the coffee!” He gestured to the steaming mug sitting on the table, pride evident in his tone.
It was no secret that learning how to use the coffee machine had been a two-month ordeal. You took a sip, smiling up at him. “It’s perfect.”
After breakfast, he handed you a piece of paper. It had the twins’ tiny handprints in bright colors, alongside a handwritten note:
Doll, I know this journey hasn’t always been easy, but you’ve faced every challenge with care, kindness, strength, and so much love. Watching you with our kids has shown me what it truly means to have a family. Thank you for everything you do, for them, for me, for us. I love you more than words can say. —Yours always, Bucky
Tears spilled down your cheeks as you hugged him tightly. “You’re incredible.”
You couldn’t stop admiring the tiny, colorful handprints on the card. You traced the edges of the prints with your fingers, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you glanced at Bucky.
“Okay,” you said, looking at him with a curious smile. “How on earth did you get the twins to do this? I know they don’t sit still for more than two seconds.”
Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “It… uh… wasn’t exactly easy, doll.” He leaned back in his chair, the memory of the ordeal making him chuckle.
“First, I had to find non-toxic paint that they wouldn’t try to eat. That took me, like, a solid hour. I kept hearing Sam’s voice in my head lecturing me about safety.” he added with a smirk. “Then I thought, ‘How hard could it be?’”
You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh. “Famous last words.”
“Exactly.” He shook his head. “I spread out an old sheet in the living room and put them in their high chairs. I figured it would contain the chaos.”
“And?”
“And I was wrong.” he admitted, rolling his eyes at himself. “Sammy decided paint was better on his face than the paper. I turned around for one second, and he had a red handprint right in the middle of his forehead. Talia, on the other hand…” He paused, groaning. “She somehow managed to grab the paint cup and fling it across the room. The wall might still have a little blue on it.”
You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. “Oh my god, Bucky!”
“Yeah, laugh it up,” he said with a mock glare, though his lips twitched in amusement. “By the time I wrestled the paint cup away from her, Sammy was clapping his hands together and splattering paint everywhere. I looked like I’d just come back from an art war zone.”
“Please tell me you took pictures?” you teased, wiping away tears of laughter.
“Absolutely not!” he deadpanned. ���I was too busy trying to keep them from eating the paint or smearing it in each other’s hair. But eventually, I got them to cooperate. I held Sammy’s hand over the paper and pressed it down while humming to him and he loves that, you know.”
You nodded, your heart swelling at the thought of Bucky patiently singing to your son.
“And Talia…” He shook his head fondly. “That little troublemaker fought me the whole time. She kept trying to grab the paper instead of pressing her hand down. I think she was offended I wasn’t letting her ‘help.’”
You laughed again, picturing your strong-willed daughter glaring at Bucky with her tiny fists covered in paint.
“But after a lot of trial and error…” he continued, “and a lot of cleaning up, I finally got it done. I think I scrubbed paint off my arm for a full hour last night.”
You reached out and placed a hand on his cheek, your smile softening. “You went through all that just to make me feel special?”
“Of course,” he said, his voice tender. “You’re the best mom in the world, doll. You deserve it.”
Tears filled your eyes again as you leaned in to kiss him, your heart full of love for the man who’d gone to such lengths to celebrate you. “Thank you, Bucky. For everything.”
“Anything for you,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “And, uh, by the way…”
“What?” you asked looking at him.
“There’s one more thing,” he said, pulling out a small box. Inside was a delicate gold necklace, the locket engraved with his and the twins’ initials.
Your hand flew to your mouth as you admired the thoughtful gift. “Bucky…”
“Happy Mother’s Day, doll,” he murmured, wiping away your tears before kissing you gently.
You spent the rest of the day in a blissful haze, playing with the twins, laughing with Bucky, and feeling more loved than ever. It was a day you would never forget, a perfect celebration of the family you’d built together.
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@unaxv @pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss
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capquinn · 18 hours ago
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I was just thinking about bf!Quinn meeting your parents for the first time and being nervous about it beforehand lmao
god idk about you guys but my parents are neurotic so he’d be right to be a wreck 😅😭 ANYWAY nervous quinny coming right up
Quinn had been pacing the living room for nearly fifteen minutes, the soles of his shoes scuffing softly against the floor as he moved in restless, looping strides. His hands couldn’t seem to settle anywhere — shoving into his pockets, tugging at the collar of his button-up, dragging through his hair so often that a few strands were starting to stick up stubbornly. The brand new button up, the nice jeans, even the shoes you picked out for him were all perfect. But judging by the way he kept adjusting and pulling at them, they felt anything but. He looked like he was gearing up to take the ice in overtime during Playoffs, except this wasn’t about hockey. It was about meeting your parents for the first time.
And he was nervous. Really nervous.
“You okay?” you asked softly, your voice cutting through the quiet hum of the living room.
He stopped mid-step like he’d only just realised what he was doing, like he'd remembered he wasn't alone. His gaze flicked toward you, wide and a little uncertain, and for a second, he looked almost boyish, like a kid caught red-handed.
“I just...” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. His fingers tugged at his collar next, as though it had suddenly shrunk two sizes. “What if they don’t like me?” he finally said, the words quiet but heavy, like he’d been carrying them around for a while.
You stepped toward him, closing the space with a softness you knew he needed right now. “Quinn, they’re going to love you,” you said, smoothing your hands over the front of his shirt. Your touch lingered on his chest, steady and grounding.
He shook his head slightly, looking unconvinced, the crease between his brows deepening. “What if I say something stupid? Or they think I’m boring? Or—”
“Or they realise how lucky I am to have you and try to steal you away?” you interrupted gently, a small smile playing on your lips.
His brows furrowed, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself. “I’m serious,” he said, though the nervous energy in his voice softened just a little.
“And so am I,” you countered, your tone warm and steady. “You’re sweet, thoughtful and incredibly kind. They're going to see all of that and love you for it."
He exhaled a slow breath, some of the tension in his shoulders melting as he leaned into your touch. “I just really want to make a good impression,” he admitted, his voice quiet but honest.
“And you will,” you promised, rising up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Just be yourself. That’s more than enough.”
For a moment, he just looked at you, his eyes soft and full of something unspoken, like he was trying to anchor himself in your confidence. Your fingers found the ends of his hair, curling around them playfully, his shoulders sagging slightly, the tension easing a little more, and then he let out a quiet laugh — the kind that felt more like a release than amusement. It was progress, but you could still see the storm of thoughts swirling behind his eyes, his brows furrowing as another worry surfaced.
“But what if I run out of things to say?” he asked, his voice quieter this time, almost sheepish, like he already knew how you’d react but couldn’t stop himself from asking. There was a faint twitch at the corner of his lips, like he was bracing for you to tease him.
You didn’t disappoint. The laugh that bubbled out of you was soft, affectionate, and just a little exasperated. “You? Run out of things to say?” you repeated, your head tilting as you gave him a pointed look, the kind that always made him squirm in the most endearing way. “Not possible,” you said, your voice light but full of certainty.
His lips twitched, the ghost of a smile breaking through, but he still managed to look unconvinced. “It’s different, though,” he murmured, his gaze dropping briefly before flicking back to yours. “Talking to your parents isn’t the same as talking to you or the guys. I can’t just…say whatever.”
“You’re overthinking it,” you said gently, your fingers slipping from his hair to brush over his shoulders soothingly, like you could knead the tension out of him. "I mean it, baby. Just be yourself. That’s all they’re going to want. And trust me — once my dad gets going on golf or my mom starts asking you a million questions, you won’t even have to try.”
He let out a slow breath, the kind that made you feel like he was letting go of some of that tension. “Okay,” he said, nodding slightly. But then he paused, tilting his head at you with a faintly teasing glint in his eye. “And if I do run out of things to say?”
You grinned, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose before pulling back with a soft laugh. “Then you smile, nod, and let them do all the talking.”
He laughed again, this time louder and easier, his hands settling on your waist as he looked at you like you’d just handed him the answer to every problem in the world. “Alright,” he said, a little steadier now. “I can do that.”
So when you arrive at your parent's house, Quinn’s still a little stiff, shaking your dad’s hand with a firm grip and offering your mom a bouquet of flowers, his voice polite and quiet. You can see him trying, making the effort to seem calm, but the way his shoulders creep up toward his ears tells you otherwise.
It doesn’t take long for the ice to break, though. Your dad starts talking about golf — just as you predicted — and Quinn leans into the conversation, his face lighting up as they swap stories about their best (and worst) games. There’s a genuine ease in the way they laugh together, and you can tell Quinn’s nerves start to melt away with each passing moment. Your mom, meanwhile, peppers him with questions. Everything from his family, to his favourite meals, to what it’s like playing in the NHL, and even down to how he likes his coffee. Though he stumbles over a few answers, glancing at you for reassurance more than once, he’s so earnest and thoughtful in his responses that she’s absolutely beaming by the time dinner is served, like she’s already planning the next time he’ll be invited over.
By the end of the night, Quinn’s walking out with your mom’s Tupperware full of leftovers balanced carefully in his hands and your dad clapping him on the shoulder as he glances your way with a hearty, “good kid, this one.” The approval in his tone is unmistakable, and when you look over at Quinn, his cheeks are tinged pink, his eyes bright with a mix of relief and quiet pride, his lips curved in that boyish smile you love so much.
“Told you they’d love you,” you tease once you’re in the car, nudging him lightly.
“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, his tone aiming for dismissive but falling short, the warmth in his eyes betraying him. He shifts slightly, leaning back into the seat, his fingers reaching out to find yours, threading together as he exhales a long, steady breath. You can feel the tension leaving his body, the last remnants of his nerves melting away. “Thanks for… you know, making it easier.”
You grin, squeezing his hand as you lean over, brushing a soft kiss against his lips. “You didn’t need my help,” you murmur, your voice warm and sure. “You’re a natural.”
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ropebuny · 2 days ago
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oh no of course !!! you’re definitely right, thank you so much for this addition it’s an important aspect of it all to consider. my addition of the dom giving the sub impossible to complete tasks was brought up because I personally have had that happen to me and my ex partner, and I personally found it really hot because I had a suspicion that they were essentially lying in order to be hot and make me all needy and frustrated. and I knew that they would never actually be upset with me, we had a very trusting and respectful relationship so I definitely think that something as serious as indulging in an impossible task would DEFINITELY need some discussion beforehand between the two, the dom seeing how the sub feels about it. and I mentioned these impossible scenarios with the possibility of the sub using the safeword if they felt the need to do so in mind. but of course when it comes to the sub feeling the need to voice the safe word, feelings can already be extremely hurt and the trust feel disrespected. so I definitely agree with your addition heavily, maybe these people are just not compatible. this guy definitely should have just communicated with his sub about what he expects/wants/desires from her and her doing the same for him. my addition of impossible tasks was just meant to be something to be considered as a more fun way to deal with punishment, if maybe at the moment the ‘standard’ rules feel too ‘boring’ like the original guy complained about. and how it should only be implemented once the once the dom had full confidence that it wouldn’t hurt the sub emotionally, and knowing their personal limits since you really need to be extra careful in kink and especially when dealing with punishments. I know that I definitely would not appreciate if someone that I did not feel confident with just started to gaslight me like that, but when that scenario happened between me and my ex partner who I trusted wholeheartedly, it was a very hot and enjoyable experience for me. or maybe I am very trusting of my dom but in the moment, I am just not in the right headspace to be treated like that. so the dom should definitely be extra careful when dealing with such scenarios which can easily be hurtful to the sub on an emotional level, it’s not something to be careless with. it definitely all depends on the person and their limits, and the dom should never push these. I also never wanted my post as coming across as me saying the dom should implement these and only these, because as another person has voiced, these impossible to win tasks can definitely become old so so incredibly fast. my intention was to perhaps voice how kink doesn’t have to be ‘boring’ like that guy was complaining about, maybe the sub and dom can experiment with non ‘standard’ rules to how kink is believed to work. I wanted to bring attention to how kink can be and should be creative, but these scenarios definitely all depend on the person and what kind of sub they are and for the dom to be aware of the risks of implementing these strategies as to not hurt their sub emotionally.
kink communities definitely have a soft spot for brats while belittling subs who are “too good/obedient” as if that was even a thing… obedience, especially such that is soo devoted and dedicated like the op’s sub, should be praised and respected. while that guy seemed to not realise just how much of an honor it was for his sub to be so incredibly committed to being obedient for him
thank you so much for bringing up this important aspect of it all, I really appreciate you taking the time to open up and share your thoughts and disdain for it, I never meant my addition of impossible tasks to be seen as something to be used against subs to fuck with them and break them on and hurt them on an emotional level which they would not appreciate. it’s a sensitive issue and it definitely NEEDS to be handled with proper care and respect to the sub from the dom. and in my mind when I was adding that aspect of it to the text post, I had my personal experience in mind which was very enjoyable because I felt incredibly safe with the person I was doing it with and the fact that I caught onto the fact that they were fucking with me on purpose. but I definitely should have mentioned how careful you must be when dealing with gaslighting in play like that, because it’s definitely not something to just fuck around with carelessly, so thank you so much for your addition !!
saw a guy on here complaining about how disappointing it sometimes is to have such a good and obedient little girl, how when she obediently pulls up her skirt and counts all the spanks without messing up it gets boring because there’s no fun in it since it can’t be counted as a punishment anymore. my brother in christ how can you ever become bored or disappointed or feel that it’s not of any ‘fun’ when someone is so endlessly devoted to you and is so so obedient and obeys your every command and would do anything to make you proud. that level of obedience takes real dedication and a really strong willpower and a really strong and committed mind. you’d never catch me calling that boring or disappointing, ever. it’s the farthest thing from it, and frankly it should be praised instead
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pawpiefawn · 1 day ago
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𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼, 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 .𖥔 ݁ ˖
❤︎ alhaitham x reader 2.5k words five acts of love, where alhaitham loves you more with each. reupload + edited from my previous blog. thank u coco for reminding me :"
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ask around the bustling hub of sumeru city, and the native dreamers would often describe being loved as something mesmerising and captivating. it is much like a kaleidoscope, twisting and turning enchantingly in hopes that the beads would fall perfectly in place, but it never always truly does; endearing and a lesson for the lovers all the same. the messy beads twirl and turn but there is just some reason why they can’t get enough of it.
the thinkers talk about love like an anchor dragging you further and deeper down into the depths of adoration and affection and infatuation; to them, there are often few clear differentiations between sinking into love and drowning in it.
but for alhaitham, however – love is natural, like the cycle of growth of the dainty flowers and wild grass beneath his feet. a swanlike, enchanting piece of music that flows from your violin’s bow – with the right person, it is as natural as breathing.
but for alhaitham, however – love is also... unnatural, given his lack of experience. he has adoring fans, he has scholars singing his praises and piles of handwritten letters from secret admirers commending his mind and aesthete – but he has never loved before, not until you.
the first act of love. listening, when nobody else will try to.
alhaitham is a wonderful listener. if you ask him, he’d say that he prefers listening, even – he is content to hear all that you have to say, however nonsensical or ridiculous you sound to others. the scribe’s work is simple, so he never truly minds – to sit quietly with a small smile on his face while you talk his ear off about anything and everything – that is what love is, you are sure.
“hey, i’m sorry.. this is just too much right now.” you know they use this as a replacement for you.
“could you tell me another time?” another time will never come.
“just keep quiet, archons! do you ever shut up?” no, i’m sorry. i probably should.
alhaitham watches from his office as your heart breaks with every unwilling individual, each choosing to walk away while you tore your heart out, still bleeding from your ribcage while laying the offering bare at their feet. how could a human being be so cruel? there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ – yet you believe you cannot make it speak because they do not choose to listen.
“...i believe you hadn’t quite finished your story from the last time we met.” he speaks plainly, eyes glistening – with pity or with eagerness is something you don’t wish to distinguish. let it be the same, lest the heartbreaking realisation that he is just like the others.
“you remember?” you ask cautiously. please do, i can’t bear to beg anyone anymore.
“i do. that day about your old neighbour’s dog escaping into your garden. you’re welcome to continue, if you’d like.”
he watches your eyes light up as you trip and stumble over your words, quietly surprised and eager to please. there is a soft feeling in his chest – a warm, weighing feeling nestled in his ribcage.
the second act of love. remembering, when it feels like no one else does.
it is no secret that alhaitham’s mind is incredible. highly intelligent, closely observant, adept at noticing discrepancies – any researcher would fight to have him take a spot on their team. he is good at remembering, you think to yourself – alhaitham remembers everything – the things you’d grovel at someone’s feet, to remember the slightest thing about you, for, and everything you wished the world forgot. him remembering everything is incredible – whether that be a good thing, or not; is another.
“when’s your birthday again?” your co-worker taps his fingers against his chin, looking through the sheet of office birthdays.
“it’s–”
“december 26th.” alhaitham walks past, not looking up from his notebook.
you and your co-worker stare in silence. he...
“yeah, december 26th...” you catch a glimpse of the silver-haired scribe around the corner. he remembered. even if it was just an offhand comment about how funny you found your birthday to be right after christmas. he remembered.
“huh.” your co-worker shrugs it off, noting it down on the list as if nothing happened.
something happened. you feel something warm blossoming in your chest – warm, comforting, lovely all the same. a tender, sweet feeling like the heavy blanket on a rainy day that attempts to capture your heart in your throat and keep it captive forever; there is so much you want to say to alhaitham. it’s nice that he remembers – out of all your friends ( was he a friend? ), who could confidently say the date without thinking twice?
“i believe those are nuts. if i recall correctly, aren’t you allergic?” the next time you see a glimpse of his silver hair, alhaitham peers into your bowl of noodles. nuts – how comical it is to think that such a small, minuscule digit could potentially cut off breathing for you.
“i thought i told them ... perhaps i didn’t.” you mumble, hurriedly spitting out half-chewed food into your tissue. you stare tiredly into your bowl – surely you remember letting the waiter know that you had an allergy.
“you did.”
before you could even turn your head to reply to his reassurance, alhaitham flags down the same, tired waiter. he trudges to your table, serving tray tucked between his arm and body.
“can i be of service?”
“excuse me, i believe we mentioned earlier that they couldn’t have nuts.” alhaitham stares at him in the eye, glancing briefly at your bowl with spat-out nuts beside it. the waiter grabs it, letting out a soft sigh of frustration.
“you are a service professional, are you not?” alhaitham interrupts the languid movement; yet he does not break the stare.
“sir, i am just a wa–”
“my apologies. are you are a paid member of this establishment?”
“i am.” the waiter nods in quiet submission. it is better to shut up than to argue with a man who loves.
“you understand the laws regarding a customer’s health and safety, do you not? even if it’s tiresome, if they had gone into an anaphylactic shock here in your cafe, i believe it would have been a matter of time before an investigation is launched and a lawsuit is filed.”
you hear alhaitham soften at the word they. they. you. you are important enough to him that he’d quietly, but fiercely rip into the waiter over your allergy. (alhaitham wishes you felt important enough to care about your health instead of apologising for not speaking loud enough.)
the waiter steels himself and takes your bowl back to the kitchen without another word.
“thank you,” you turn to alhaitham. “that meant a lot.”
you show him a soft smile, and alhaitham feels a wave of silent thankfulness wash over himself – that you sit before him, wearing a bright and sweet smile and not a pained grimace from struggling to breathe, on your features. he feels the same warmth in his chest once again.
“you don’t need to thank me.”
alhaitham remembers, even when it feels like no one else does.
the third act of love. holding, when your skin feels achingly colder.
alhaitham does not strike people as a touchy person; his love language is not physical touch. touch scares him a little, even. the thought that a simple loving gesture could be twisted and morphed into a threatening hold scares even the most intelligent and strong of men – but he is human, and that is enough for him to appreciate lingering touches on his back as and when he needs and wants to.
he sees you – fingers twitching and rubbing against each other, clumsily tapping against your palms then scrunching inwards – you need touch. you need to be held. it was as simple and as crucial as breathing. your fingers press in inwards of itself, and he watches the colour recede and return once again as you loosen your grip.
“come here,” alhaitham gestures, wrapping your hand around his. there’s something comforting about how your hand is smaller than his; it’s not that much smaller, but it’s smaller all the same. if you curled yourself up even more, perhaps you’d be able to fit into the palm of his hands.
“don’t do that. you’ll hurt yourself.”
“do what?” you look at him quizzically.
“i wasn’t sure if you were unaware, but you tend to self-soothe and search for touch.” he sighs quietly, absent-mindedly stroking your purlicue as he turned back to his book.
“although i believe you search for it too much. press too hard, and you’ll start to feel numb.”
“ah.” you stare at your hands – the left, which he holds, and the right, resting on the cool table.
“thank you.”
“i said before, there is no need to thank me. if it is a simple matter regarding your well-being, i would do–” he stops himself. anything, is left hanging in silence.
“i would be happy to resolve that matter.”
even holding you? would he dare hold something so shamefully broken?
“thank you...” you close your eyes. he hesitates; just once.
“you don’t sound pleased, nor satisfied. was it something i said?” you hear his voice soften.
no, it’s not you. you shake your head quietly, resting your head against your right palm on the table.
“it’s alright. you do not have to talk if you don’t wish to.” alhaitham replies. you feel him smoothing your hair back – a touch so soft and tender, you can hardly believe it to be for yourself. it was intoxicating; his touch lacked lust, full in love– you have never been loved (loved?) like this before.
you feel slightly warmer now.
the fourth act of love. comforting, when there seems to be no one in your corner.
“i just wanted them to be different. just this once. is that too much to even ask?”
alhaitham holds you tightly as you sob and lament; he holds tighter than he ever has before, and he mourns. he mourns for the walls you had slowly built up over time dawn with the realisation that it had been justified all along; alhaitham knows how hard you have begged for them to be unneeded.
“i know.”
you hiccup, ducking beneath his arm tiredly – and he holds you gently. he holds you, arm resting on the crook of your neck as you rest against a pillow on his side – he holds you like he has done it all his life. fitting yourself – not small but not big – into his frame, alhaitham thinks, may very well be the most natural thing the world has brought him.
“they had no right to treat you like that. i’m sorry.”
“it’s not your fault.” you sniffle.
archon, it hurt. you were going to get hurt in every lifetime, you know that– no, you deserved it. that has been etched into your mind since day one of starting your work. that was just who you were. the poor, miserable corner-sitter who had nothing else to do but correct their own mistakes. no initiative, no ounce of thought. why had the akademiya even hired you if its own people despised you?
“you don’t deserve to be hurt over and over, you know.”
how did he know?
“you said that aloud.”
you mumble a soft sorry, and he replies, shaking his head.
“it isn’t your fault,” alhaitham echoes your previous sentiment, almost teasingly.
“i believe you’re smart enough to figure that out.”
before you look up at his tousled hair to reply, you feel a soft kiss pressed to your forehead.
a kiss.
his kiss.
“if you find them still bothering you, come and talk to me. the scribe’s position is – it may not be much – but i know with my place within the akademiya, they will listen. i promise you this,” he holds your warm hands in his broader ones.
“if they do not stop, i will leave. i have no regard for a company that will not protect its own workers.”
he wants to say a company that will not protect you, but thinks otherwise. perhaps it is too much right now after his impulsive kiss – that is the one thing that alhaitham mulls over. he has never been impulsive before; always thinking through and filtering and being rational and all the things that makes alhaitham, alhaitham. being impulsive is not a trait others describe him by. 
so why, you–?
the fifth act of love. loving you, even when you believe people cannot.
–because he loves you, and alhaitham cannot, for the life of him and even with all the overbearing advice from kaveh and more bearable guidance from nahida – he cannot put it into words. for the first time in his life, alhaitham stumbles over himself, words tumbling out like love letters hastily shoved into a sack with a cut into it.
“what is so special about me? you’re always here, alhaitham, yet you never grow sick of me.” he finds himself caught off guard when you ask suddenly, caught in today’s throes of anxiety. your words hang cautiously on your tongue like a snake waiting for the moment a displeased reaction appears – whether you hiss or hide, is something alhaitham feels a modicum of curiosity about, pulsing, and pulsing, until he tries.
“you-”
there are too many things that he can think of, he feels. nahida, give me strength.
“you are- you are kind. and generous. you have a heart for people even when they do not have one for you.” he starts, slowly.
“you listen intently, and you enable people to open and talk. they talk because you listen and you support them with all your soul and it is so evident that you love.”
you want to cry.
“i admit i am not good with words, but you deserve every vow i utter tonight. you love so loudly, and you feel no shame for it – you have inspired me, and i dare confess that there have been many times i have desired to pull back, out of worry that i have felt the distinct possibility that i was about to fall in love with you.”
oh. you blink as if that hasn’t been obvious enough.
alhaitham is deeply and madly in love with you.
“i love you, not only because you are special, but also because i believe you deserve every ounce of love i can retrieve from myself. i know it has been made clear to you that others do not feel the same way, and it hurts to believe that some of it has come from those i know – i promise to be different–”
“you already are, alhaitham.” you feel yourself choke up. love is entangling itself around your trachea and holding you hostage, never letting go.
“you have never treated me with the same contempt. i love you, i know you return my feelings and for that i am thankful. i’m sorry that i’m not an easy person to love, please...” you trail off, feeling his body collide into yours. alhaitham holds you. he holds you, hand on your back and the other cradling your head against his shoulder.
“i want to love you,” he whispers into your hair.
“please let me.”
ask alhaitham, however? you see a soft smile adorns his features as he mulls over the question of what love is to him. love, forever yours, evermore.
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viforavi · 2 days ago
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singer/songwriter!caitlyn and producer!vi… known for her quiet allure and silky voice, cait is a rising star whose songs have almost all been produced by vi. most of the lyrics cait writes may or may not be drawn from a crush she has on her producer. vi may or may not be producing cait’s songs because she’s not only undeniably talented, but also incredibly hot.
caitlyn loves to observe the focus vi has when creating her vision in the studio—sometimes she finds herself staring at her a little longer, taking note of how vi plays with her bottom lip and the way her big, beautiful blue-gray eyes dart across the computer screen—but the praise she gets when she records the perfect take is the cherry on top of it all.
“atta girl.”
“amazing work, you did so well today.”
“there we go, princess. knew you could do it.”
she feels her face flush slightly at every compliment and this time is no different. they near the end of a session as caitlyn records the last of her harmonies and the rest of the pre-chorus. as caitlyn’s verse comes to an end, vi smiles and clicks a button on her sound board to let cait hear her next words.
“you did so good in there, sweetheart. i could listen to you all day.”
a small giggle paired with an eye roll is her typical response to the producer’s kudos. cait’s ears and cheeks are tinged pink at the last part of vi’s comment.
“as if you aren’t paid to do exactly that,” caitlyn points out.
she removes her headphones and exits the soundproof room, walking towards the couch at the same time as vi to take a break before the producer works herself to the bone to get this song to sound like a masterpiece. caitlyn’s legs find themselves propped on vi’s lap crossed at her ankles with vi’s hand gently holding her in place, a comfortable position they find themselves in very often. vi expresses a thought she has about cait’s writing.
“y’know, i honestly still can’t believe you wrote these lyrics. i didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”
cait lets out a soft laugh, slightly embarrassed at the idea. the lyrics are… more sexual than what she usually writes, depicting fantasies and desires that she would typically consider private information.
“i’m not! just… felt really inspired i guess.”
“c’mon, don’t give me that. you rarely ever write about sex, let alone ask me to produce a song about it. she must be really fucking good, so who’s the lucky girl?”
she was right. caitlyn rarely wrote songs about sex and even when she did, she was usually too embarrassed to show them to vi. caitlyn’s had her fair share of hookups, but in caitlyn’s eyes none of them could compare to the mere thought of vi: her stupid fucking haircut that she, by some miracle, manages to pull off, her muscular build that convinces cait that she could be picked up by her like a feather, and that voice.
god, that fucking voice and her fucking praise.
even though she was the one to ask, vi’s stomach drops at the thought of cait seeing anyone. she keeps her eyes on the screen, avoiding caitlyn’s gaze and hoping she doesn’t look like a kicked puppy.
“seriously, it’s no one.”
“bullshit, cait. we’re friends! you can tell me.”
“it’s not! i’m really not seeing anyone.”
“please, cupcake.”
the underlying sweetness in her disbelieving tone makes cait want to melt into a puddle on the floor. part of her wants to admit that the object of all her fantasies has been a certain pink-haired musical genius with a jaw-dropping body and a pretty face, but her pride outmatches her desire, even though the use of the dessert-inspired nickname makes her knees weak.
“it’s just a crush. that’s all.”
cait swears she can see vi’s ears perk up. she’s met with a shit-eating grin, and now vi can’t help but poke and prod further to figure out who this mystery crush is. they giggle and playfully fight with one another as vi begs to know about this “crush” and cait wonders why the fuck she decided to say anything at all.
the regret leaves her body when she finds her face centimeters away from vi’s and her arms locked in front of her chest, held by her wrist thanks to vi’s unbelievable strength. cait makes out the curls of her eyelashes, the dark ink of her face tattoo, and most especially the plush of vi’s lips and the scar that decorates the top of them.
shit. why does she have to be so fucking gorgeous?
caitlyn is certain the red all over her face perfectly matches the burn she feels. she feels like she’s opening for fucking beyoncé or something with how nervous she is to be this close to someone she’s known for years.
“you’re really gonna keep this from me, princess?”
something about vi’s lowered voice and her eyes searching her face (particularly at her lips, she noticed) gave caitlyn a sense of confidence that she knows she’ll probably regret acting on. she wants vi, and she’s tired of vi not knowing. she swallows and looks into vi’s pleading eyes for a moment then sighs, nearly surprising herself with what she does next.
her feet find their way to the floor to push her up out of her seat and then she swiftly swings a leg over vi’s lap, seating herself where her legs once were. vi’s grip on caitlyn weakens and confusion is written all over her face with her wide eyes, raised brows, and slightly parted lips. cait gazes at her through hooded eyes, playing with the neckline of vi’s muscle tee. she leans over and ghosts her lips over vi’s ear to tease.
“you really wanna know?”
vi rests her hands on caitlyn’s hips and slowly licks her lips, still unsure of what exactly is going on… but she’s not complaining. her thumbs fiddle with the top of caitlyn’s jeans as caitlyn pulls herself back to face vi, one hand caressing the back of her neck and the other cupping her chin. vi groans at the sound of cait’s voice as she asks vi a very important question.
“do you want me to tell you, or would you rather i show you?”
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natashashill · 14 hours ago
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tell me that you’re still mine
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pairing: agatha harkness x reader, mention of agatha harkness & rio vidal
word count: 1.6k
warnings: 18+ possessive!agatha, collaring, body worship (a receiving), fingering (r receiving), choking (r receiving), cunnilingus (a receiving), dacryphilia
a/n: i realize now that nonnie might have meant jealous scene in hurt/comfort and if u did can you resend the request so i can remake this 😔
summary: potentially based off this request (?)
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Agatha doesn’t take lightly to people having what’s hers. That just happens to include you, her familiar.
You were younger than her but eager to learn from her and she saw your potential. Reluctantly, she took you on as her familiar and let you observe the way she worked. You were obedient, following every instruction Agatha barks, any task Agatha hands you is done with immediately, and to Agatha’s irritation, incredibly well. Your devotion to her does not go unnoticed, and Agatha cannot help but be rather protective over you.
She rarely lets you out of her sight. If she sends you into town, she sends you in your animal form of a kitten to avoid detection.
Her plan was sailing along very well, she was growing more and more powerful by the day, and no one had uncovered her familiar yet. That was until Rio Vidal showed up.
She finds herself turning around to see Rio Vidal, fondly holding a kitten, you.
“Rio, let go of the cat and get on your way. You’re not wanted here.”
“Ouch Agatha. I don’t know though. This kitten is awfully cute, I might just take it with me.”
You can sense Agatha’s annoyance. She’s visibly seething and you choose this opportunity to slip from Rio’s hands and change into your human form. You were about to walk over to Agatha when Rio grabs your wrist and lightly brings you closer to her.
“Look what we have here. Agatha, you didn’t tell me about your familiar. What a cute pet you have here. Where were you hiding them all this time?”
Agatha curls her hands into fists and makes her way closer to you when she notices your subtle blush from Rio’s words. She snatches you away from Rio, who lets you go without a fight. You slightly frown at your Mistress’ actions, enjoying the fondness that Rio showered you with.
You adored your mistress, she was your entire world after all, but she was rather strict and harsh. You enjoyed the small praise from Rio and were curious about her. Agatha’s actions didn’t make sense to you, her hostility turning your mood sour. You keep your gaze between them, noticing the silent battle they had going. You felt Agatha’s hand come around your waist and squeeze tightly. You attempted to appease her by leaning closer and placing one hand on her shoulder.
She briefly looked at you for a second before announcing her goodbye to Rio and leading you back home. You didn’t say anything, hoping that silence will allow your Mistress to calm down. When you reach home, your Mistress walks through the door first and before you realize it, she has you pinned against the door.
Her hand comes up to your throat and gives it a testing squeeze, and you let out a soft moan. Your body leans forward seeking hers, and she steps closer, only inches apart from you.
“You’re mine, pet. Do you understand that? You follow me, you listen to me, and I’m the only one who gets your attention. Whatever your feelings for Rio you think you have, get rid of them. You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you understand that.”
Your head leans against the door, mouth parted open as you gasped to breathe while your legs squeezed together.
Agatha noticed and she couldn’t be more delighted. You haven’t lost that affection yet. She slots her leg between yours and smiles gleefully when she hears your gasp.
“Mistress, please. I only want you. You’re all I want, I’m yours.”
You told her exactly what she wants to hear because she moves to undress you and mark up your neck. You let her do so, even helping her get rid of your clothing. You make a move to take her shirt off and she lets you. She lets you unbutton her shirt one by one, before slipping it off her. She helps you get rid of her bra, her perky nipple coming into view. You get on your knees, looking at her for confirmation before moving to take off her pants.
She steps out of them before kicking them behind her. She reaches out the grasp your jaw, using her firm grip to guide your gaze back to her face.
“You’ll be my good pet won’t you hon? Your mistress needs your help and I know you’ll be good for me and worship me.”
You take the bait and nod eagerly, knowing you could never resist your Mistress. You lean closer, pressing kisses up and down her legs. You know you’re doing something right based off the moans she lets out, and you work your way higher to her covered center. You catch her smell and let out a small whimper, desperate to taste her.
She guides you upwards, letting your mouth latch on to her nipple. You start to suck eagerly, and Agatha can’t control the moans that escape her mouth at that. She would need to do this more often with you, you made her feel too good to ignore.
After you alternated your devotion between both boobs, she reluctantly pulls you away and steps just out of your reach, before turning away all together and walking away.
You stay on your knees, but rather confused by the sudden change. You see her come back with a small box, and watch her pull out a collar with a small tag. You watch her intently as she comes closer to you with a smile and you make out the words on the tag.
Agatha’s Pet
You let out a desperate whine and look at her with pleading eyes. She lets out a small chuckle before placing your collar on you. She tugs at your collar with a test, your thighs squeeze together again while letting your head fall back at the feeling.
Agatha, feeling rather bold, presses her thumb against your lips, prying them open for her before placing it against your thumb. You let your mouth stay open for her, and before you know it, she’s thrusting two fingers inside your mouth. Your eyes tear up at the feeling but you stay still and let her use your mouth at the feeling. Tears start to slip out of the corners of your eyes as you gag around her fingers. She mercifully pulls her fingers out and allows you to catch your breath. She leans into you while you’re still heaving and assumes a strong grip on your jaw. Eyeing your mouth perfectly waiting for her, she spits into your mouth before releasing her grip and taking a step back. You swallow, like the good familiar that you are, and look back up at her.
She stands up fully and using your new collar, she pulls you right into her soaking pussy. You don’t even attempt to remove her panties but licking her through it. She pulls you away for a second, taking the time to step out of them before bringing you back in. You eagerly lap and suck at her core. Head feeling empty, you allow yourself to just mindlessly make out with her pussy and ignore your throbbing pussy. You feel your wetness leaking out of you, but you focus on bringing your Mistress pleasure. You double your efforts desperate to make your Mistress cum, and when she does, you lean back with a blissed smile. Agatha stares at you for a second, still catching her breath after her orgasm.
Suddenly, her gaze turns dark again as it settles on your face. The events from earlier today are present in her mind, and the thought of you ever leaving her for someone else is far too painful for her to bear.
“You’re mine, pet. Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“Say it again.”
“I’m yours.”
“Who do you belong to?”
“You, mistress.”
You nuzzle your face into her knee to show the briefest bit of affection, and her face softens at that. All thoughts of today’s events slip her mind as she decides to focus on rewarding you for your good behavior. She guides you to the couch and spreads your legs apart allowing her access to where you need her most.
“You’re soaked pet. All for me?”
“Only for you Mistress. This is only for you.”
With that, Agatha wastes no time before slipping two fingers into your eager pussy. You can hear the sounds of your pussy echoing around the room as she rapidly thrusted in and out of you.
“Fuck- I wish I had my strap with me. I would have made you take it. You would have, your greedy pussy would have taken my strap beautifully, you’re practically sucking in my fingers baby. God, I would have made you clean up your mess after too. You’d look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth.”
Her words made you clench tightly and before you know it, you’re coming around Agatha’s fingers. She pulls out her fingers carefully and brings them to your lips. You wrap your lips around her fingers and start to suck them clean. She groans at the sight and feels her desperation start to return.
“You’re my good pet, aren’t you? My obedient pet. You take me so well, you were made for me baby. I’m not letting anyone take you from me.”
You smile around her fingers before she pulls them out. She lets you cuddle into her and drapes her arm over you protectively. You know you’ll have to get up in a few minutes to clean off but you allow yourself to bask in the gentle warmth your mistress provides you. Hearing your thoughts, Agatha places a gentle kiss to your forehead before resting her head on top of yours.
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notes: i hope this was okay in any form, even it wasn’t the original intention. i got carried away and couldn’t escape it. nonnie please tell me if u wanted this to be hurt/comfort i can redo it
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mattslilies · 2 days ago
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✩ criminologist!reader - lets matt distract her from studying ✩
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warnings: sexual content, smut scene, p in v, missionary sex, just overall soft n sweet
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"ugh!" you put your head in your hands, the frustration from studying completely overwhelming your mind.
you were in grad school, going to earn your master's, and while you had a good, steady job, you wanted to further your career, which lead to you being completely and utterly stressed out at 11:56 pm in your boyfriend's bed.
you rarely ever spent a night at your own place, having abandoned your roommate, but still paid rent, so it wasn't unusual for matt to find you doing all of your schoolwork in his room.
you had been sitting at his desk, but you had decided to move to somewhere more comfortable, which in hindsight was a wonderful idea, because your back would've been sore by now from all the hunching over your laptop you'd been doing.
it was just then that matt exited the bathroom, having been in there taking a shower.
often sleeping shirtless, it wasn't uncommon to see matt pop out of the bathroom with just a loose pair of pajama pants or sweatpants.
"baby?" matt noticed your distressed demeanor. "what's wrong?"
you looked up, removing your head from your hands.
"nothing, sorry, i'm just stressed out. i have a massive test tomorrow, and i feel so incredibly unprepared."
matt ran a hand through his hair, a gentle look on his face.
"babe, you've been studying since you got here. it's been six hours. don't you think you should take a break?"
you looked up, shutting your computer because you just couldn't stand to look at the screen anymore.
"I think at this point it doesn't matter if i study any more or not. i've crammed everything i could have possibly crammed."
sitting down on the bed next to you, matt gently pressed a kiss to your cheek, smiling when the corners of your lips lifted, just a tad.
noticing that it seemed to improve your mood, he moved the books and your laptop off of the bed, hovering over top of you to press a kiss to the opposite cheek, a wide grin covering your face.
his smile was contagious, you letting out a soft laugh, pulling his face down to press your lips against his.
he went to pull back to breathe, but your arms wrapped around his neck, only allowing him a millisecond to catch his breath before you entrapped him in a passionate kiss.
when you finally let him pull away, he laughed before speaking.
"given up on studying, then?"
"if you shut up long enough to distract me from it."
"mhm. noted."
it was a good thing that he hadn't moved from hovering above you, as he reconnected his lips to yours.
you didn't often get the chance to really enjoy your time alone with matt, as you were often working, or he was often working, or you were both just exhausted or otherwise busy.
your arms wrapped around his torso, keeping his body held close to you as one of his hands traveled up your shirt.
he only broke the kiss to speak. "can i take this off?"
you quickly nodded, moving to help him remove it, as well as letting your hands ghost down to his pants hemline, your eyes questioning as you slowly tucked your fingers under the waistband.
the both of you adjusting to make the ridding of clothes easiest, moving with practiced comfortability.
you let out a quiet gasp as matt's thumb easily connected with your clit, rubbing slow but firm circles as he laid open-mouthed kisses on your neck.
"so pretty, baby."
you couldn't even muster up a response, the feeling of matt's middle and ring finger slowly entering you, giving you time to adjust.
he felt your nails dig into his bare back as he curled his fingers, easily hitting your sweet spot with no effort at all. keeping his pace steady but not too quick, taking a small bit of pride when he felt your back arch, stomach pushing up against his chest.
he silenced your whine at his fingers leaving you with a deep kiss, running his free hand through your hair.
"you're okay, baby. breathe. you ready?"
an enthusiastic nod and a gasping "yes" was all he needed, aligning himself and pushing in, his thumb returning to your clit, the pleasure helping distract you from the uncomfortable stretch.
giving you plenty of time to adjust, he continued his motions, whispering gentle praise as he cautiously moved his hips, testing the waters.
when he received a low moan in response, he gradually began to pick up the pace, adoring the way your nails dug into his back with even more pressure hen he got the perfect angle, gasping his name right into his ear.
he felt you tighten around him, your noises getting more and more high-pitched, almost whiny.
"you're so gorgeous like this, baby. doing so good for me. cum for me, sweetheart, you deserve it."
it was the gentle praise combined with the consistent pace he kept that quickly pushed you over the edge, feeling him let go shortly after.
he stayed there for a few moments before pulling out, continuing to kiss you through the uncomfortable sensitivity.
carefully cleaning you up, matt helped you into a set of his comfortable clothes, ones that you would definitely steal from him later, before laying down with you, pulling you close.
"you're going to do great on your test tomorrow."
you fell asleep, the test the last thing on your mind as matt pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
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sammycutiepie · 3 hours ago
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*Hearts Beyond Reason*
Viktor
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writer's note: hello here, ican't explain how much i enjoyed writing this, i have a soft spot for viktor. btw, for those who don't know, this story came from one of my arcane imagines, here is the link in case you want to see the other scenarios, of which i will continue to upload little stories like these during the course of this week, tomorrow it's jinx's turn ;)
link:
warnings: kind of a smut, blowjob, praise kink, mature language, princess treatment for my man, pet names, and a little bit of fluff... just a little bit, we love sassy viktor, also, reader is a baddie.
The auditorium was filled, a sea of brilliant minds awaiting eagerly. Viktor, a renowned scientist specializing in artificial intelligence and robotics, approached the podium with a modest posture, though his reputation preceded any presentation. With his calm and precise voice, he explained how his latest research in biotechnology could revolutionize smart prosthetics.
From your seat, you took quick notes, constantly reviewing to ensure nothing slipped by, as everything coming out of his mouth was incredibly brilliant and unprecedented. You had covered many scientific conferences, but there was something in his approach, in his ability to balance technical complexity with humanity, that kept you intrigued. Maybe it was his distinct kind of Czech accent or the way his eyes drifted to the ceiling, avoiding focusing on the crowd in front of him. He was nervous; public speaking wasn’t his forte, you immediately realized, and you found it incredibly endearing.
When he finished, the room erupted in applause. Apparently, you weren’t the only one impressed. You wasted no time and rushed toward him, dodging other attendees as if in a Mario Kart race.
"Excuse me, Mr. Viktor," you said, adjusting your glasses and catching your breath. "I’m a journalist from The Innovator's Journal. Could I have a brief interview?"
Viktor turned toward you, assessing you with a probing gaze.
You met his eyes with a faint smile, your long lashes fluttering in a cautious flirtation. Subtle non-verbal manipulations you had learned over your career, because journalism wasn’t an easy job, especially not for women. Sometimes, you had to make use of certain physical attributes to draw the attention of interview subjects.
But Viktor didn’t react the way others did. He didn’t look beyond your face.
"For The Innovator’s Journal?" he asked, his accent soft yet distinct. You nodded, mesmerized, and he seemed to consider your request. "I generally don’t accept impromptu interviews, but you seem... determined."
You took a step closer, but without fully invading his personal space, just enough to better perceive his scent. His fragrance was an esoteric, almost magical blend—soft yet noticeable. If stars had a scent, it would surely smell like him.
"I know how to seize opportunities when I see them," you replied with a sharp smile, not fully showing your teeth, as if toying with the possibilities.
A flicker of what seemed like amusement crossed his gaze before he nodded.
"Five minutes," he said, leading you to a quieter corner.
You blinked quickly, not expecting such an ultimatum. However, you didn’t keep him waiting and pulled out your recorder. Clearing your throat to keep your voice steady, you began.
"Your research has been described as a bridge between biotechnology and humanity. Is that what you’re aiming for?"
Viktor slightly tilted his head, as if finding the question deeper than expected.
"I seek to close the gaps," he responded calmly. "Between human abilities and the opportunities that technology offers."
"But some critics argue that it could make people too dependent on machines. How do you respond to that?"
You were known for being controversial; you liked pushing people to their limits. You loved seeing their reactions and enjoyed tense environments. Maybe it was a bit machiavellian, but you didn’t mind, you saw it as part of your job.
His eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger but because he was thinking carefully.
"Dependency isn’t the problem, but how we use what we create. Tools are an extension of our abilities, not a replacement."
He knew what he was doing. He had answered with careful words—if he weren’t a scientist, he’d have had a brilliant career in politics. His response was decisive, but you were expecting more, so you decided to take a risk with something more personal.
"And you? How do you see yourself on this bridge between humanity and technology?"
You asked it clearly regarding his physical disability, as he still walked with a cane and hadn’t implanted one of his much-publicized smart prosthetics.
He paused for a moment before answering. His gaze drifted slightly to the room before returning to you.
"I suppose I’m someone who walks that bridge carefully. It’s a fragile balance, but it’s necessary."
The way his words resonated, heavy with a sort of melancholy, made you forget, for a moment, that you were supposed to be the journalist. There was something more to him, something not easily revealed.
When you finished, you stored your recorder and dared to smile at him again, this time without ulterior motives—a genuine smile.
"Thank you, Mr. Viktor. It was a fascinating conversation," you said, tempted to add that he was equally fascinating, but you refrained.
You didn’t want to scare him off. Viktor seemed like the type of man who didn’t have much female contact, you could easily tell by his physical discomfort. When he spoke with you, his body was tense, and he didn’t gesticulate much. He seemed more like a robot than a person.
"A pleasure, Miss," he responded with a slight nod.
There was a brief silence before you decided to take the next step.
"I must admit, I’m not only intrigued by your work but by you as well. Would you like to continue this conversation over dinner?"
You felt your heart race when that question escaped your lips. You hoped you hadn’t scared him off. It was the first time in a long while that a man had caught your attention so intensely.
For a moment, Viktor seemed surprised. Then, his expression softened, though still laden with reservation.
"I don’t usually accept those types of invitations," he admitted, though his tone didn’t sound too convincing.
That wasn’t a rejection, at least not a definitive one. He was evaluating you. Clearly, he didn’t trust you yet. You adapted to the situation and played his game. You weren’t going to let such a man slip away so easily.
"And I don’t usually make them. Few things capture my attention enough to take such a risk. You see, Mr. Viktor, I’m not easily impressed," you replied, maintaining a confident gaze.
His lips curved just slightly into a smile, a kind of wry smirk that was impossible to read.
Viktor was an enigma you were dying to decode.
"In that case, I’ll accept. After all, curiosity is a virtue," he handed you his personal card with all his contact details, practically leaving everything in your hands, giving you the final word.
Your heart skipped another beat, and as you watched him leave, you knew that conversation was just the beginning. Oh, and you couldn’t wait to see what was coming next.
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Viktor decided to go for one of his typical nightly walks after escaping that room filled with important names and fake smiles. Fortunately, he managed to slip away before getting caught up in that pathetic charade. Viktor despised those events; the so-called "scientists" who attended seemed more interested in taking pictures with him than in seriously discussing their projects. They didn’t care about science. In fact, Viktor often doubted whether they had ever opened a quantum physics book in their lives.
The sound of Viktor's footsteps echoed softly on the deserted sidewalk. It was one of those quiet nights when the city lights seemed to dissolve into the horizon, and the stars began to shine brightly. The calmness centered him, pulling him away from daily worries. During these moments, he could reflect on his research progress but also on the purpose science gave him. Sometimes, when the air was fresh and clear, he allowed himself to think of something more personal.
The conversations from that day at the conference still lingered in his mind. Her. The journalist he had spoken to after his presentation. There was something about her that had unsettled him: her sharp curiosity, her direct way of asking questions, and, most of all, the way she wasn’t afraid to challenge him. That had left him pondering. After so many years in the academic and scientific world, it was rare for someone to go beyond technical topics and ask him something more personal. But she had done just that.
A sigh escaped his lips as he looked up at the starry sky. The stillness of the universe, the precision of planetary orbits—all of it seemed to have a purpose. But in his own life, everything was in constant flux. After the interview, she had asked him out. It had been unexpected, but Viktor couldn’t help feeling intrigued. The sensation of uncertainty and anticipation kept him on edge as he walked through the nearby park.
The sound of a message interrupted his thoughts. He pulled out his phone, still gazing at the stars, and saw a LinkedIn notification: a connection request from her. Something in his stomach flipped. What was she expecting from him? A deeper conversation, perhaps? It was a world of unknowns. Viktor wasn’t someone who let curiosity drive him, but there was something about this woman—something about her intellect—that kept him captivated.
One step at a time, he thought, as he accepted the request, not really knowing what to expect from it.
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Three days later, in the cozy restaurant where they had agreed to meet, Viktor couldn’t stop rehearsing the words he had mentally prepared. This wasn’t the kind of social situation he excelled at; the conference had been easier, more technical. But now, sitting across from you, there was something that made him feel vulnerable. It wasn’t just his work at stake.
You arrived on time. He watched you as you walked through the restaurant door. The warm light from the lamps highlighted your face, but what immediately caught his attention was the way you walked: confident, yet with a seriousness that belied any facade of superficiality. He had seen you in your role as a journalist, but now, here, he couldn’t help but feel disoriented by your presence.
"Are you nervous?" you asked with a slight smile, noticing the small drops of sweat on his forehead.
"No, just... thoughtful," Viktor replied, more out of habit than sincerity.
The conversation began with that slight tug of awkwardness, something he had already anticipated.
You both took a seat, and after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, you started asking him questions about his research, careful to use a tone that indicated you weren’t just interested in professional matters.
“Why did you choose biotechnology, Viktor? It’s not an easy or straightforward discipline.” It was the first time you addressed him informally, and it seemed to please him because you noticed his shoulders relaxed.
Viktor studied your face more closely. In your gaze, there wasn’t just curiosity but genuine interest. Finally, he could see that you weren’t merely seeking more information for your work but something more.
“It’s a way to try to surpass my own limits. Since I was a child, I’ve been obsessed with the idea that the human body can be improved, even when physical limitations seem insurmountable,” he said, his words tinged with vulnerability. He looked at you and felt satisfied seeing you listening intently. “At some point, I realized I wasn’t just trying to improve my body but others’ as well.”
You didn’t look at him as a distant scientist but as someone who had dedicated his life to a cause. The sincerity in his words struck you unexpectedly.
“But what happens when science becomes too big? When humanity is lost in the process?”
Viktor paused. That was the question he feared most, yet you had posed it with a disarming naturalness.
“That’s what I try to avoid,” he replied, almost in a whisper. “Science should serve humanity, not dominate it. But sometimes... the path forward is uncertain.”
At that moment, the air between you grew tense. Viktor’s universe, which until then had been filled with cold equations and formulas, seemed to crumble a little before you, as if everything he had built was only a reflection of his own insecurities.
The waiter brought the food, but neither of you seemed to notice.
“I’m surprised by how open you are about this. Most people with physical disabilities are quite reserved when it comes to their condition,” you said sincerely, trying to lighten the moment, though the seriousness of the conversation lingered.
“The truth is... no one’s ever asked me before,” he admitted, unable to suppress the faint smile that formed on his lips.
You continued to observe him, this time with more depth, more intensity.
“I think that’s what draws me to your work, Viktor. It’s not just the science; it’s the way you constantly question yourself. It’s as if you’re searching for something more than just solutions.” You were fascinated, and you weren’t afraid to show it.
There was a silence—the kind of silence that invites something more. Viktor pondered how to explain himself.
“The search for answers never ends. And sometimes... that’s all you have.”
You smiled, amused. Conversations with him were always unpredictable. You glanced around the room, noting the soft lighting, the dancing shadows on the walls, the distant murmur of other diners… It all faded when Viktor spoke. Every word that left his mouth seemed designed to disarm you, to subtly but directly pull you out of your comfort zone—a remarkable feat for a journalist like you.
“So, what drives you to follow this path?” you asked, your voice soft but loaded with genuine interest, studying every reaction Viktor gave. With each new sentence, you sought to challenge him, wanting more than his opinion—something beyond his scientific facade.
Viktor looked at you over his glass of wine, his gaze more cautious than he would have liked to admit. The way you were interested in his words was unusual. Most people saw his research as mere achievements or theories. But you saw him—the person, the man behind the genius.
“It’s not just about science,” Viktor replied, but his voice sounded less sure than he had hoped. Something in the air between you unsettled him. There was something in the way you looked at him, with an intensity that made him feel exposed. “It’s about changing the rules, about finding what... what others don’t see.”
You smiled, but not kindly. There was a glint of amusement in your eyes, playing a game only you seemed to know.
“And what do you see, Viktor?” you asked provocatively, your lips curving with mischief. It wasn’t just a simple question. Every word you spoke was a touch, a brush, something that pushed him to let you see more, to say more than he was willing to reveal.
Viktor felt trapped in your gaze but couldn’t look away. Something about you stirred the need to talk, to expose his vulnerability. The tension was palpable; each new interaction seemed like another step in an invisible dance.
“I see a world full of possibilities…” he replied, more by instinct than reflection. He was far from his scientific research, from the cold and calculated equations. Here, there were no formulas he could apply. It was just you and him—and a chemistry as tangible as the air surrounding you.
You let your eyes slowly glide over him as if evaluating every facet of his being, every word, every gesture. It was a silent analysis, one you didn’t bother hiding. Viktor could feel himself being drawn into your scrutiny.
“Is that all you see?” you whispered, leaning slightly closer to the table, keeping your eyes fixed on his, determined to unravel his mask of control. “I think there’s more, something you haven’t said.”
The air between you thickened. Viktor swallowed hard, feeling his heart beat faster than usual. You had hit the mark, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to continue this conversation—not with the way you were looking at him now, like a predator stalking its prey.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice lower than usual, though something in his eyes glimmered with more than doubt—there was something urging him to let go.
Without missing a beat, you picked up your wine glass and, in a motion so smooth it seemed casual, brought it to your lips, looking at him over the rim. You said nothing, but Viktor understood the silent invitation. The chemistry was there between you, dense and palpable. The brush of your lips, the way your fingers grazed the glass… Everything was a subtle provocation, a game neither of you was willing to lose.
Viktor leaned slightly forward, letting the distance between you shrink. His breath hitched for a moment, and when he spoke, his tone was low—so intimate it almost felt like a confession.
“I’m not a man who lets himself go…” he said, but his words didn’t convince even himself. He was caught in the current of what was happening, in the tension woven between your bodies.
“Are you sure?” You raised an eyebrow, your demeanor now a little more challenging. Your voice carried a subtle provocation but didn’t lose the softness that characterized your way of speaking.
You were a challenge, and Viktor, though he denied it, was more than willing to accept it—to accept you.
The conversation veered into more personal matters, and as it did, the words became softer, closer, as if the two of you were walking a fine line between professional and intimate. Viktor realized that every phrase that left your lips not only challenged him intellectually but also disarmed him emotionally.
Time flew by, and when dessert arrived, both of you knew the night was far from over. Viktor was restless, but in a way unfamiliar to him.
You, on the other hand, enjoyed your effect on him. It was so amusing to see how he held his breath when you 'accidentally' grazed his right leg with your heel under the table. The way the corners of his mouth trembled, creating a slight pout, as if silently asking for more. You found yourself in total surrender—if that man asked for the moon, you'd head to space to fetch it for him. But, of course, you wouldn't let him know that. Not yet.
At the end of the dinner, after talking about everything and nothing, Viktor leaned forward, looking at you with an expression that, for the first time that night, showed a mix of determination and something else... something unsettling.
"Would you like to come to my place?" he asked, his voice now firm, though tinged with a touch of uncertainty. There was something in his words that made him more vulnerable, as if he needed this connection, this closeness.
And you couldn’t help but feel the same.
"I’d love to," you replied, and your confirmation hit Viktor like a direct blow to the heart.
It was clear: the night had only just begun.
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Viktor's house was exactly what you expected from him: minimalist, functional, almost austere in its decoration. Yet, there was something incredibly cozy about the way everything was arranged. The dim lighting, the soft classical music playing in the background, the faint aroma of incense that filled the air... Everything was meticulously designed to soothe, to find the balance he so clearly sought.
The atmosphere was perfect, but you couldn't help but feel that the air was heavy, charged with something more than just the fragrance of the incense. It was as if Viktor's home itself reflected the inner struggle he carried: orderly, precise, but so, so empty.
Viktor watched as your eyes scanned his home with a mix of curiosity and caution. In your gaze, there was something he couldn’t quite read—an air of control and, at the same time, total vulnerability. It was obvious he wasn’t used to showing his private life, but he said nothing.
As usual, you broke the silence first. You approached the living room table, lightly touching the polished wooden surface, your fingers brushing against the objects decorating it.
"You have an… interesting house," you commented in a tone that could be interpreted as sarcastic. You wanted to tease him.
Viktor glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a slight hint of discomfort visible on his face.
"I don’t like distractions," he replied curtly, but the look he gave you was more complex. A hint of something hidden beneath the surface, something he wasn’t ready to share.
You didn’t bother to insist. Instead, you turned toward him, and before Viktor could react, you stepped forward, eagerly. Every step you took felt as if you were crossing an invisible boundary, challenging every rule Viktor had built for himself. You wanted to push him to his limits, to shatter his perfect facade, to strip him bare in both body and soul.
"I think distractions are necessary sometimes," you murmured slowly and sensually, your tone laden with subtext Viktor immediately recognized.
He stood frozen, unable to look away. Something in your voice disarmed him, something in your presence made him want to open up in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. And yet, he couldn’t resist it.
"And what kind of distraction do you have in mind?" His voice came out deeper than he had intended, with a hint of unease he couldn’t disguise.
Your tongue traced the edges of your lips slowly, not quite touching your lipstick, just teasing, just enough to draw his attention to your mouth. When you succeeded, you smirked wickedly.
Viktor swallowed hard, unconsciously licking his own lips, an involuntary, clumsy act that left him defenseless against you.
"How about a conversation without filters?" you suggested, your voice almost a whisper.
Your fingers moved closer to his chest, gently brushing the lapel of his jacket, exploring every inch of his form with your eyes before deciding whether to touch or not, like a soldier in unknown territory. Viktor swallowed with difficulty, feeling his body respond to that simple touch, that closeness he hadn’t anticipated.
You didn’t back away for a moment, keeping eye contact with him while your fingers still toyed with the fabric of his clothes. Viktor felt a weight in his chest, not just from the tension of the moment, but from the need to step away, to stop letting you control him this way. Yet, something in him didn’t want you to stop.
"What I want, Viktor..." you began, your voice a whisper charged with a confidence that unsettled him, "...is for you to show me who you really are. Not the genius everyone knows, not the scientific leader everyone respects. Just you. The man behind it all. Show me the real you."
Viktor took a deep breath, feeling those words cut deep. He had never allowed anyone to see him that way. He had never let anyone get this close. And yet, here you were, making him feel like it was impossible not to open up to you. Like it was impossible to deny the need to surrender, even for a moment, to something beyond science, beyond reason.
You moved even closer, your lips just a few centimeters from his. The distance was minimal but enough to make the tension between you almost unbearable. Your breaths mingled, and Viktor could feel the heat emanating from you, the palpable desire surrounding you both.
"And if I don’t want you to see that?" His voice was low but defiant, as if trying to protect himself from something he knew, deep down, he could no longer avoid.
You found yourself smiling again, but this time it wasn’t a playful smile. It was a smile of understanding because you had confirmed your suspicions.
Viktor was afraid of connecting with someone. Maybe he didn’t even know how to do it; maybe he never had and had always convinced himself he didn’t need to—that with his machines and equations, he would have enough.
"Then why am I here?" you asked, not moving back even a millimeter.
For a brief moment, Viktor felt trapped. He couldn’t lie, couldn’t keep his distance. Something inside him wanted to give in, wanted to feel vulnerable, for once, without the weight of perfection he imposed on himself.
"Because..." he began, but his words faded into the air when you pulled him toward you, your lips brushing lightly against his. It was a fleeting touch, so brief that Viktor barely had time to process it, but it left him trembling, gripping his cane tighter as he felt he might lose his balance.
You looked into his eyes, waiting for a reaction, any kind of response, some indicator, a confirmation, anything. Viktor stood there, motionless, but his thoughts were a whirlwind. The strength he had resisted with all night dissolved in that contact, and for the first time, he felt the raw, real desire to embrace vulnerability. To let go.
Without a word, Viktor kissed you. At first, it was slow, cautious, and clumsy, as if testing the waters, afraid of diving too quickly. But you weren’t interested in caution; you pulled him into you, craving more contact, more friction, more intimacy...
Your tongue made its way into his mouth, tracing his front teeth and laughing in his face when you heard him sigh in surprise. Your hands traveled to the back of his neck and you took complete control. You devoured him. You sucked and bit as you went. You ate up all his moans and swallowed him greedily.
When you separated, you both breathed heavily. Viktor, his mind clouded by desire, felt a strange sense of lightness. For a moment, the scientist in him had completely disappeared. You didn't waste his moment of confusion and pushed him onto the couch behind him. Viktor fell awkwardly and humiliatingly, his cane had fallen to the floor, and his long, weak legs were spread wide. His brown hair was messy, and his eyes were as wide as they were bright.
You smiled, he looked ready to be devoured. You took a step and raised your foot on the furniture, placing it right in front of Viktor's crotch. You bent your torso and appreciated his blush up close.
"Don't think about it too much, Viktor. Just... let yourself go. Let me take care of you. Can you do that?" you asked, taking him by his thin chin, he nodded slowly and shakily, like a lamb at the mercy of a wolf, and the truth is that metaphor was not so far from reality.
He's not used to relinquishing control, but in this moment, he finds himself craving it. Craving you. And you noticed it, you noticed his desire, his wish to lose himself in you, so you were going to give him your best. You wanted to make him feel good. Really good.
"Oh, aren't you a pretty boy?," you said, pressing the sharp tip of your heel into his cock. Viktor inhales sharply, his hips bucking instinctively into your touch, he was like a hungry puppy. A strangled moan escapes his lips, his eyes fluttering closed at the sudden surge of pleasure-pain. "So obedient and willing to help, to give his best, as always."
He flushes at your teasing words, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coloring his pale skin. Viktor's not used to being called sweet or pretty, least of all in a situation like this. But the way you say it, with that wicked gleam in your eyes and that smirk on your lips... it makes him want to be those things. For you.
Humming softly, he reaches up to cover your hand on his chin with his own, guiding it to his chest. His heartbeat is rapid and strong beneath your palm, a silent testament to his desire. "I am not... accustomed to such directness", he admits, his voice rough with need. "But I find myself appreciating it." Viktor's other hand comes to rest on your calf. It's a tentative touch, almost hesitant, but unmistakably eager.
His broken voice. His defeated expression. The way his hand caressed your leg, so sweet yet so hard. It was too much. You needed to please him as soon as possible.
"You're so cute," you had to bite your lip to keep from cursing, "Can I eat you?"
Viktor's eyes widen at your bold question, a wave of heat rushing to his cheeks and other more sensitive areas. He's not used to such crude, direct language, especially not from someone as cool and collected as you show to be. It catches him off guard and sets his heart racing.
As you kneels down in front of him, Viktor's breath hitches in his throat. He looks down at you, his amber eyes searching your face for any hint of jest or deception. But he finds none. Only a hunger that matches his own, a desire that makes his stomach flip and his mouth go dry.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, Viktor nods. His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, his words almost lost amidst the pounding of his own heartbeat. "I... I would like that. Very much," he swallows hard, his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips.
Viktor's hands come to rest on the couch beside him, gripping the fabric tightly. He's not sure what to do with himself, how to act in this new role of his. All he knows is that he wants you, wants your touch, wants your everything. And so, with a deep breath, he spreads his legs a little wider, a silent invitation.
"Can I take off your pants?" you knew you didn't need to ask, it was more than obvious that you both wanted to. But your goal was to enjoy this new facet of Viktor, you were liking this tender and submissive Viktor a little bit too much.
Viktor feels is heart pounding in his chest as he stares down at you kneeling before him. The sight sends a jolt of anticipation and arousal through his body, his cock throbbing almost painfully against the confines of his pants.
With a shaky nod, Viktor lifts his hips slightly, allowing you to slip your fingers under the waistband of his pants. His breath catches in his throat as you start to tug them down, inch by torturous inch. The cool air of the house hits his skin, making him shiver and his member twitch. Once his pants and underwear are off, Viktor sits bare before you, his legs splayed out and his arousal evident. He resists the urge to cover up, forcing himself to stay still and let you appreciate him. His cheeks burn with embarrassment and desire, his chest heaving with each ragged breath.
"You're even prettier down here," your compliment makes him choke on his saliva.
The way you look at him, with your eyes roaming hungrily over every inch of his exposed flesh... it makes him feel powerful. Desired. Needed. And Viktor has never felt needed.
He squirms slightly under your intense scrutiny, his cock jumping at the slightest brush of your fingertips against his thigh. Viktor's voice is low and rough when he speaks, his words laced with need. 
"I am glad you find me pleasing. I must admit, I have never been inspected quite so... thoroughly before," his lips twitch into a tentative smile, his eyes darkened with desire as they meet yours.
Well, that was a new side. A sassy and naughty one. And you loved it even more.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, Viktor reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear. He was so sweet, you wanted to hug him and never let him go.
His fingers linger on your cheek, tracing the delicate curve of your jaw and the soft swell of your lower lip.
It was impossible for you not to smile with tenderness, you let your face rest on his thin hand. Then you looked him straight in the eyes, your desire to tease him never completely went away.
"It's so funny how you keep using your fancy talk despite being in this situation," you had to comment, and as expected, the blush returned to his cheeks. Adorable. "Here, take my hair."
Your request was very unexpected.
Viktor blinks in momentary confusion as you hands him your long hair, unsure of your intentions. But as your warm breath ghosts over his sensitive flesh, he quickly forgets his bewilderment, replaced by a surge of anticipation.
He takes the silky strands in his hand, marveling at the weight of them, the way they slip through his fingers. Viktor's heart races as you lean in, your lips parting to reveal the wet heat of your mouth.
And then, you takes him. All of him. Viktor's head falls back against the couch, a strangled moan tearing from his throat as your lips seal around his throbbing cock. The sensation is incredible, unlike anything he's ever felt before. Your tongue swirls around his length, exploring every ridge and vein with a curiosity that borders on reverence.
Viktor's grip tightens on your hair as he fights the urge to thrust into the wet heat of your mouth. He was so overwhelmed, so consumed by sensation. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
His breath comes in short, sharp gasps as you works over his cock, your head bobbing up and down in a steady rhythm. Viktor's never been more grateful for his weakness, for the way his leg keeps him rooted to the spot, unable to move anything but his hips in shallow, aborted thrusts.
You looked at him without stopping sucking at any time, you were hungry for him. You loved seeing him so vulnerable and so pleased by you. In fact, you wanted to give him more pleasure, you wanted to take him to paradise and bring him back.
Viktor's eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused as he stares down at you. The sight of you, so hungry and eager, your lips stretched around his throbbing flesh... was almost too much to bear. His breath comes in harsh, ragged pants as you continues your assault, your tongue and lips and the wet, sucking heat of your mouth pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Viktor's fingers tighten almost painfully in your hair, his hips jerking and stuttering as he fights the urge to lose himself completely.
Your eyes meet his, intense and filled with a passion that makes his heart race.
His balls draw up tight, his cock pulsing and throbbing as his climax approaches, and with a pathetic cry, Viktor comes undone, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. His cock jerks and pulses as he spills himself into your eager mouth, his fingers tightening almost cruelly in your scalp as he rides out the aftershocks of his intense orgasm.
As the waves of pleasure start to subside, Viktor slowly comes back to himself, his breathing still ragged and uneven. It takes a moment for the reality of what just happened to sink in - he just came, hard and fast, in your mouth, and you just swallowed it.
Viktor was mortified. A deep, blotchy red spread across his pale skin, creeping down his neck and pooling at his collarbone. Each shaky breath he took only seemed to fan the flames of his embarrassment. His hands, usually steady when working on intricate mechanisms, now trembled as they gripped the edge of the couch. When he tried to pull away, mumbling apologies, you stopped him gently but firmly.
Your hand stayed where it was, warm and reassuring, keeping him grounded in the present moment. “No, Viktor,” you murmured softly, your voice calm and soothing, like a balm for his raw nerves.
“I… I’m so sorry,” he stammered, his voice rough and broken. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you, his golden eyes fixed somewhere far away, as though retreating into himself might erase what had just happened. “That was… incredibly inappropriate of me. I couldn’t control myself… I couldn’t…” His voice faltered, fading into a silence heavy with shame.
Without a word, you shifted closer, carefully settling onto his lap. Your presence made him tense at first, but as your warmth seeped into him, you felt his rigid posture begin to soften.
Viktor swallowed hard, his lips trembling as he tried to continue. “I feel so selfish,” he admitted in a hoarse whisper. “I couldn’t hold back… and I couldn’t… I couldn’t give you anything in return. I didn’t—” His words broke off, and he turned his head, as if hiding from you might shield him from his own insecurities. “I’m pathetic.”
Your heart ached at his confession. It wasn’t just his words—it was the weight they carried, the insecurities and self-doubt that had clearly plagued him for years. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug that was firm but full of tenderness, as if trying to hold all the broken pieces of him together.
Your fingers found their way to his messy hair, threading through the soft strands with care. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back slightly to cradle his face in your hands. His cheeks were still flushed, and his expression was a mix of embarrassment and surprise, but he didn’t resist.
“Viktor,” you said gently, your tone low but filled with conviction. “Look at me.”
He hesitated, his golden eyes darting nervously before finally meeting yours. They were full of hesitation, as if he were bracing himself for judgment. But all he found in your gaze was warmth.
“Do I look like someone who’s disappointed?” you asked, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Before he could stammer out a response, you continued, your thumbs brushing lightly across his cheeks. “This was our first time trying something like this. It’s normal that it was so… intense. It’s a natural reaction, Viktor, and nothing to feel ashamed of.”
He blinked at you, his confusion evident, but you weren’t done yet. A playful glint sparkled in your eyes as you leaned in slightly closer. “And if I’m being honest,” you added, your voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, “I enjoyed every second of it. I’ve been fantasizing about moments like this since the day I met you.”
The way his eyes widened and his blush deepened was almost enough to make you laugh. But instead, you smiled softly, leaning in to brush your lips lightly against his ear. “Besides,” you whispered, your tone teasing but full of affection, “this is only the beginning, pretty boy. We’ve got plenty of time for moments like this.”
His breath hitched at the nickname, and for a moment, he looked completely disarmed. He nodded slowly, his embarrassment still evident, but there was a flicker of trust in his gaze now.
It was then that you noticed the exhaustion etched into his features—the dark circles under his eyes, the slump of his shoulders. It was obvious that he had been working tirelessly, likely pushing himself past his limits, as he always did and confessed to you. And now, after everything that had just happened, the tiredness seemed to weigh on him even more.
“Do you want to cuddle tonight?” you asked casually, though your tone was laced with affection. You already knew the answer. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and he needed rest.
Viktor looked at you, his expression softening into something that resembled gratitude. “Yes… please,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Without another word, you guided him to lie down with you, pulling him close until his head rested against your chest. His arms hesitated at first before wrapping around your waist tentatively, and you could feel the tension slowly melting away from his body.
As you ran your fingers through his hair and whispered soft reassurances, you felt his breathing slow, syncing with yours. He sighed softly, his entire body relaxing in your embrace. In that quiet, intimate moment, you felt a wave of protectiveness wash over you.
Holding him like this, you silently promised yourself that you would always be there for him. To remind him that he didn’t have to face his insecurities alone, that he didn’t have to be perfect to be loved. He was enough—just as he was. And as he drifted off to sleep, you knew he felt it too.
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The first rays of dawn began to filter through the windows of Viktor's home. The atmosphere, which had been warm and charged with intensity, was now tinged with a calmer, more reflective silence.
Both of you lay together on the sofa, your bodies entwined and your breaths synchronized. Viktor rested against you, his face buried in your hair, his fingers tracing abstract patterns along your back as if trying to memorize every detail of this moment.
"I never thought..." he began, his voice barely above a whisper.
You lifted your head to look at him, the light in his eyes still a mix of disbelief and tenderness.
"Never thought what?" you asked softly, your fingers brushing against his jawline.
"I never thought I’d need this as much as I do now." His confession was simple yet heavy with meaning. His barriers had fallen, at least with you, and you both understood the weight of that.
You smiled, feeling how deeply those words resonated within you. There was something profoundly beautiful about seeing someone like Viktor—so used to solitude and sacrifice—allow himself this kind of vulnerability.
"We all need something, Viktor. Even you." Your tone was gentle but firm, making it clear you wouldn’t let him retreat behind his mask of self-reliance again.
Viktor nodded but said nothing more. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and steady. It was a simple gesture but full of quiet affection, a language you were both beginning to understand.
As the hours passed, you talked about mundane and profound things, from his advancements to favorite books. The walls of Viktor’s home, which had once felt so empty, now carried an unexpected warmth—a spark neither of you was willing to extinguish.
Before you left, Viktor reached for your hand, his grip gentle but firm.
"I don’t know how to fit this into my life… with you," he admitted. His words were sincere, almost fearful, but his gaze said something else: he wanted to try, and for the first time, he was willing to open that door.
You looked at him, and with a calm smile, you squeezed his hand.
"You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just… don’t close the door before seeing what’s on the other side."
And with that, you left his house, though not without one last look that spoke more than words ever could.
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ropebuny · 3 days ago
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as incredibly hot as a sadistic, forceful, scary rapist dad, who forces themselves on top of you and gets their way with you, is…… I also get so needy thinking about me and dad just having a fucked up inappropriate but consensual relationship
like them teaching me things cause they’re older and have experience, and how I can trust them cause they’re my dad and it’s their job to make me feel safe and secure and guide me through life, teaching me how to be a big girl and how grown ups do things. me seeing my dad as my partner as if it’s not extremely fucked to be in love with your own father, and for dad to be in love with their little girl
how it’s not just the dad wanting it and you fighting back as they force themselves into you. but it’s actually both of you consenting to it, how you both want this. how you feel genuine love for one another and want to be intimate with each other like lovers, even though it’s so wrong. being all sweet and caring with each other, dad being soft and sweet with you as they teach you how to kiss and teach you about sex and help you learn about your body
learning and improving and flourishing together like lovers do. acting as if you were in a relationship and were not father and daughter. you never needing anyone else and never having a bf/gf cause you have your dad
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greenandsorrow · 1 day ago
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The world we knew.
⊰⁠⊹ฺ Christmas Special ☆゚⁠.
🤎🎄 human!Alastor x fem!reader 🎄🤎
☞ Your world crushes around you when you discover the truth about your beloved, childhood friend. Yet, not all hope is lost, 'tis the season for it after all.
☞ Not very lore accurate in the sense that I didn't want to make you suffer, much. It's happy holidays, not sad! (I'll definitely write human!Al stuff again)
Merry Christmas to anyone who celebrates!!!
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Alastor hummed to himself as he strolled the festive streets of Louisiana, his signature smile masking the darkness lurking beneath. The Jazz Age gleamed around him, mixing with the holiday cheer. The streets were alive with the sounds of celebrations. Decorations hung from every lamp post and the scent of cider wafted through the crisp winter air.
You were out and about as well -oblivious to his presence so far. Enjoying the festive atmosphere that surrounded you, you couldn't help but feel excited in an almost childish way.
Suddenly, a familiar voice called your name, snapping you out of giddy trance.
You turned and saw him -Alastor, his tall and slender frame as striking as ever, his smile warm and his chocolatey brown eyes locked onto yours. His slicked-back hair and his stylish attire gave him an air of effortless charm.
For a moment, it felt like time itself had stopped.
"Alastor!" you exclaimed, heart fluttering as you rushed toward him. "I can't believe it is really you!"
His smile widened and he tipped his top hat.
"Ma chère" he greeted you in that melodic Creole drawl. "What a pleasant surprise. It's been far too long, hasn't it?"
"Yes, yes it has! You look... incredible" you complimented, unable to hide your admiration. "What have you been up to all these years?"
"Oh, the usual" his tone laced with mischief. "Well my radio show keeps me busy. A bit of exploring here, some delightful chaos there. You know how it is!"
He winked and you laughed, shaking your head. "You haven't changed a bit."
The two of you walked the vibrant streets of New Orleans, reminiscing about your shared past.
Alastor led you through the French Quarter, while weaving stories of jazz clubs and his successful career as a radio host.
Eventually, leaving the crowded streets, you made your way to the park, where the lights seemed to twinkle more softly, casting a magical glow over the cold evening.
The sun began to set, painting the sky orange and pink. The glow illuminated Alastor's features, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw and that glimmer in his eyes. You found yourself staring.
He noticed, of course.
"Caught in the sunset, are we?" he teased, a knowing grin making its appearance.
You flushed, embarrassed. "It's just… beautiful out here."
As more time passed, a chill crept into the air. Noticing -such an observant man!- your shivering, Alastor slipped off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. "We can't have you catching a cold, ma chère" he murmured, his tone soft and protective.
The gesture made your heart swell with affection. Despite his playful attitude, there was a warmth to him that made you feel safe, even now.
Later that same evening, Alastor invited you to a holiday gathering at his apartment. His insistence left no room for refusal. "You must come" he said, his smile radiant. "It wouldn't be the same without you."
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His apartment was modest but elegant, decorated with garlands of holly and the cinnamon scented candles.
You were greeted with a warm embrace, his arms strong yet gentle. "Happy Christmas..." he said, his voice dripping with sincerity. "You look lovely in this dress..."
The gathering was lively, filled with laughter and jazz music. As one would expect, Alastor was the star of the evening, his voice weaving an irresistible spell over everyone in the room -like he had some sort of superhuman power that showed itself every time he opened his mouth to speak...
You found yourself enchanted, holding a delicate snow globe he gifted you. It was simply beautiful -snowflakes swirling around a tiny replica of the French Quarter. However, as you turned it in your hands, a strange unease settled in your chest.
Tucking the snow globe into your coat pocket, you slipped to another, quieter room. There, on a wooden desk, you noticed a letter. Its envelope was bearing Alastor's characteristic, distinct, and deliberate handwriting.
"My Dearest Mama,
I hope this letter finds you well. I think of you every day, and I pray that you aren't working yourself too hard. I miss you more than words can express, though I know for a fact we'll never meet again. Not after what I have done.
The memories haunt me, Mama. What he did to me… the pain, the fear... It never leaves. I tried to endure it for so long, to keep it hidden from you, but it grew inside me like a poison. And one night, I just couldn't take it anymore. I ended it. Permanently.
I know you loved him once, but you did not know him like I did. He was a monster, Mama. And though the world is better without him, I fear I nave become something worse. The darkness I carry now… it is unbearable.
I do not seek forgiveness. I do not deserve it. I just wanted you to know the truth, even if it comes out too late.
With love and regret,
Your son."
Your hands were trembling as you re-read the words over and over. The elegant handwriting of your childhood friend carried a weight that made your chest tighten.
"Oh Alastor..." you whispered, your mind buzzing with questions.
Before you could overthink it, you placed the letter into the pocket the snow globe also resided in and turned to find him.
A storm had started outside, already fierce, rain hitting against the windows as thunder growled in the distance.
When Alastor saw you coming out of his office, his usual confidence faltered at the sight of you -pale and clearly upset.
"Ma chère" he began softly, stepping in the quiet room and motioning you to follow him. "What's wrong?"
You didn't chew on your words.
"I found your letter. I need to hear it from you. Everything."
The flicker of resignation in his eyes made your stomach feel sick. He gestured for you to sit, but he remained standing, posture stiff.
"I suppose there really is no point in hiding it now" he said, his voice steady but without the usual warmth.
"Yes, I killed him. My father. And I would do it again."
His admission felt like a physical blow, but it wasn't even the act itself that left you reeling -it was the anguish in his voice, the raw pain he radiated even as he tried to appear composed.
"I wanted to protect you from this part of myself" he continued, his gaze fixed on the floor. "You see, you're the only good thing in my life and I just couldn't bear the thought of you seeing me as a monster."
You swallowed hard, unsure of what to feel. "You were only protecting yourself."
A pause.
Your throat felt dry.
Betrayal, disbelief, anger, sadness, helplessness and empathy all screamed in your mind. Empathy was the loudest.
At last, you stood and reached for his hand.
"But you're not a monster, Alastor. You're a man who's been through... Hell. But if we're going to move forward, there can't be any more secrets. No more masks. And it's going to be us, together."
Alastor froze for a moment before his fingers slowly curled around yours.
"You mean it?" he asked, his voice softer than you've ever heard it.
"I do."
"If you can accept me as I am, then I will give you everything."
And he did.
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����🤎 masterlist || Hazbin Hotel masterlist 🤎🎄
This work is part of the nymph's daily gifts! ✨
Dividers by @saradika-graphics.
Taglist: @stygianoir @aperfectidiot @lady-valtieri @what-0-life @clowncollegealum @whatinthepluto @dragonqueenfk @ajajajabdjsjx @ellie-x0xo @1rxsemary1 @ermmmwhattheflipguys @kimkimmm2411 @sukaretto-n @randomuser-89 @crowleysthings @ratskinsuit @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @ilikemyteawithmilk @dontevenknowwhyimhere @dennsfz @sirens-and-moonflowers @diffidentphantom @midorichoco @speedycoffeedelight @cinnamon-galaxies @kammsinn @chibistar45 @alastorthirsty @victias @mezzo-piano230 @shayshaymonyou @atlaloversblog @iheartalastor @mydickisjuicy @pinestwinssimp
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berberriescorner · 3 days ago
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The Gift of Hopes and Dreams🎄♥️
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Character: Husband!Deacon Kay (SWAT) x Black!Reader.
Word Count: 600+.
"A Season of Love Christmas Series 🎄♥️"
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Children’s laughter echoed faintly from downstairs, mingling with the soft hum of Christmas music playing on the speakers. You were still in bed, savoring the last few moments of quiet before the whirlwind of the day began. A warm, familiar presence stirred beside you, and you turned to see Deacon blinking awake, his expression soft and full of love as he caught your gaze.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, his voice deep and still laced with sleep.
“Merry Christmas,” you replied, leaning over to kiss his lips gently. The way he smiled against your mouth made your heart flutter.
“You ready to see what Santa left under the tree?” he teased, his tone playful as he stretched and sat up.
“I’m guessing there’s more than toys for the kids,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve had that excited look on your face all week.”
Deacon chuckled, slipping out of bed and extending a hand to you. “Maybe. But first, I’ve got something to show you.”
Curiosity sparked as you took his hand and let him lead you through the house. Instead of heading to the living room where the kids were digging into their stockings, he guided you to the hallway. Stopping in front of the spare room, he turned to you with a grin.
“Close your eyes,” he said, his excitement contagious.
You did as he asked, letting him gently guide you through the doorway. The scent of fresh paint and the faint whir of a fan greeted you. “Okay,” he said softly. “Open them.”
When you did, your breath caught in your throat. The room was completely transformed. A sleek, modern desk sat against the far wall, complete with a state-of-the-art computer, a ring light, and a microphone. Shelves filled with decor, books, and supplies lined the walls, and a cozy chair was tucked into the corner.
“What… what is this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s your new office,” Deacon said, stepping beside you. “I know you’ve been dreaming about starting your content creation career, and I figured it was time you had a space of your own to make it happen.”
Emotion welled up in your chest as you turned to face him. “Deacon, I don’t know what to say. This is incredible, but… I don’t know if I can do it. What if I fail?”
He cupped your face in his hands, his blue eyes steady and filled with reassurance. “You’re not going to fail. You’ve got so much talent and heart, and people are going to see that. You’ve been amazing at everything you’ve put your mind to—being a momma, a wife, a friend. This is just one more thing you’re going to be amazing at.”
Tears spilled over as you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tightly. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For believing in me when I can’t always believe in myself.”
“I always will,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re going to be incredible, sweetheart. I know it.”
As you pulled back to take in the room again, a spark of excitement began to replace the fear. This wasn’t just a gift; it was a sign of how much he believed in you, a reminder that it was okay to chase your dreams.
“You ready to see what else the day has in store?” he asked, slipping an arm around your waist.
“Absolutely,” you said, smiling up at him. “This is already the best Christmas ever.”
With that, the two of you headed back to the living room, hand in hand, ready to embrace the joy of the holiday together.
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, my babies! MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄♥️!!
Tagging some lovelies:
@darqchilddaydreamz @astoldbychae @starrynite7114 @1andonlytashae @prettyyybrownroundd @sunshine-flower @ravennaortiz
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