#crimson lace

[meetingthestarcatchers]

Crimson Lace (Part 3)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x fem!reader

Summary: You have trouble placing a finger on where you know him from, until he invites you in

Warnings: nothing except pure fluff! (saving the dirty stuff for later)

A/n: We are most definitely calling Danny a brother in this so istg if there are any Danny antis, back the fuck off. Please and thank you. Also I'm sorry that this one is shorter than the previous parts but I've struggled writing this one.

Throughout the whole night, messages between you and Jake seemed to never stop. You had learnt that he was born in Michigan, has four siblings, one of which is his twin.

It had reached 4am when you felt your body start to protest against the lack of sleep. You could feel your eyes burning slightly and you reluctantly started your goodnight message.

You: i hate to stop our conversation but i can feel myself about to fall asleep Jake: getting bored of me that quickly, huh?

You smiled at the message and rolled your eyes before responding.

You: we have lectures tomorrow and i'm not up for letting u copy my notes Jake: i would never! but in all seriousness, i'm starting to feel the burn as well You: i'll see u in the morning jake Jake: sleep tight, angel

You plugged your phone on to charge and allowed your mind to switch off and slip into a state of unconsciousness.

The next morning, you were actually happy to get up and go to classes for once . The thought of seeing Jake filled your heart with joy and slight nervousness. Jumping out of bed, you shivered at the slight chill in your room and you decided to get in the shower before heading to your first lecture.

You got into the lecture with enough time to spare , setting up all of your things and smiling to yourself. Suddenly, while you're lost in thought, Jake jumps at you, causing you to let a a small yelp and nearly fall off the seat. He laughs loudly and quickly apologises when he sees your glare.

"I couldn't help it" he says shrugging and sits down next to you. He hands you a takeaway cup, sealed with a lid. You frown at him as you take it and put it down on your desk to take the lid off and look at it.

"I thought you'd appreciate it" he said and you nod and look around before quickly kissing his cheek.

"Thank you" you replied quietly, and you spot a red tint on his cheeks. You use the cup to warm up your cold hands while you watch Jake fondly, as he unpacks his bag as well.

"You may not be proud to know that I forgot my charger again and I didn't charge my laptop last night" he said cautiously but with a smile on his face and you rolled your eyes and reached into your bag. Pulling out your charger, you held it out to him but swiped it back quickly before he could take it.

"Don't forget to give it back..." You told him and he snatched it out of your hand.

"I won't, don't worry" he gave you a boyish grin before plugging the charger into his own laptop. The door slammed open and in a fraction of a second the professor had already set up the lesson and had started rambling on about the next book that was going to be studied.

It was halfway through the lecture that Jake started to get comfortable and rested his hand on your thigh and you willed yourself to avoid looking at his face or down at where his hand was placed. Out of your peripheral, you saw a blush paint its way across Jake's face almost like watercolor paint on a canvas.

As soon as the lecture was over Jake abruptly stood up and you nearly jumped at the sudden movement.

"Do you wanna come over? To work on the project of course..." He asked and you giggled and nodded. He paused for a second before speaking again.

"Actually maybe not...I think my brother is home..." he said and you frowned and shrugged.

"I don't mind, we're just working on the project. Right?" I said smirking at him and his cheeks became flushed and he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah of course..." he mumbled before starting to walk out of the lecture hall with you closely following him.

The short walk was filled with small talk and playful comments, and before you knew it, the pair of you had arrived at the dorm door. Jake opened it, and the scene that met your eyes surprised you. Two tall men were frozen in place, looking towards you and Jake. They dropped their arms, clearly playfighting around, and you caught the curly headed one give Jake a look.

Jake let out a small playful groan. "I didn't know you were both going to be here," He said, moving into the kitchen to place his bag on the table, and you copied his actions.

"Don't act too happy to see both of us here" the curly-haired boy said sarcastically.

Jake turned to look at you with an apologetic look on his face and you just smiled at him awkwardly.

"That one there..." he said pointing at the boy that had just spoken, "is Danny." Danny smiled and gave a small wave, dropping the pillow that he was holding in order to look less threatening. You smiled and waved back in return.

"The other dickhead is Sammy," Jake said and Sammy looked at Jake with a shocked look and chucked the pillow he was previously using at him but Jake managed to duck in time. You laughed a little and Jake rolled his eyes. He grabbed both of your bags in one hand before grabbing your hand and walking towards his room.

"We're gonna work in my room instead" he mumbled. You heard the two boys in the living room gasp loudly.

"Keep the door open and keep two feet apart at all times" Sam shouted and you giggled as you followed Jake into his bedroom, the door being shut behind you by Jake.

You settled on sitting in a beanbag on the floor and opened up your laptop to start working. You bent your knees slightly to act as a desk and started to get comfy.

"Shit I forgot to ask, do you want a drink or anything?" Jake asked softly and you thought for a second and asked for some water. He nodded his head and walked back out of the room and into the kitchen. You heard some rustling around and quiet murmurs from the boys but decided to ignore them and start working.

A few minutes later, Jake walked back into the room and shut the door carefully while keeping an eye on both drinks. He didn't take his eyes off your drink until you had taken it out of his care and put it on the floor next to you as he placed his on a coaster on his desk.

"I'm sorry about them, I only thought Danny would be home...he's the more peaceful one out of the two" he said, muttering the last part under his breath and you laughed quietly and shrugged.

"It's okay, they won't interrupt us right?" you asked and he shook his head.

"They know not to come into my room in case y'know..." he trailed off at the end as he referred to his online activities and you smiled and nodded.

"Were those your brothers?" Jake nodded.

"Yeah. Neither of them are my twin though. " He said and you watched as a small smile appeared on his face while he was thinking about the final brother. He soon snapped out of his thoughts and logged into his computer and within 10 minutes, you were both focused on the project and had divided up the work equally.

An hour later, you looked at the time in the corner of your screen and stretched out a little and looked up at Jake, his eyes not leaving his screen. You allowed yourself to admire how his face lit up from the light and you could feel a warm sensation take over your body. A thought popped into your head and you smirked at the idea.

You stood up and nearly groaned as your muscles stretched but walked over to where Jake was sitting in his chair at his desk. You went behind him and bent down and slid your hands over his shoulders and rested them on his chest. He took one of his hands off of the keyboard and placed it on top of yours.

He lifted his head to look at you and smiled. You moved to stand next to him, still holding his hand.

"I was thinking..." you started and he looked at you with raised eyebrows.

"Oh that's never a good thing" he said and you hit his chest and let go of his hand. He picked up his mug and lifted it to his lips to take a sip.

"I wanna watch you do your livestream later" you rushed.

"You...what?" Jake said, almost choking on his tea and you cocked your head and smiled innocently at him.

"I want to watch, is that okay?" you answered and he nodded quickly in response, his cheeks turning a deep red.

"That's more than okay, angel" he muttered before continuing to drink his tea. "You just make sure you stay silent, don't want others online knowing" he said and you agreed and sat back down in the beanbag smirking knowingly to yourself.

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taglist: @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @takenbythemadness @godly-sinsx @ignite-my-fire @gretasfallingsky @sanguinebats @livkiszka @literal-dead-leaf @jakeygvf21 @freefallthoughts @threadofstars @samssymmetricalstache @mackalah @carlyfleet @gvfpal @klarxtr @welllauragvf @jaketsguitar @violet-hayes @stardustjake @i-love-gvf @spark-my-nature @hellowgoodbye @dannys-dream @gvfmarge @dannywagnerschoppedhair @edgingthedarkness

Here's the taglist if you wanna join!

[theseimmortalcoils]

A sumptuous, intricate costume and mask for the Venice Carnival by @leslegendesdazcor

I wish I could wear something like this and go to the carnival. Or just simply wear it.

❤️💜😍

[onyourhyuck]

hii! pls add me to the Crimson Lace pt.2 tag list ^^

I am back and I will make sure to add you to PT 2<33 it’s coming out very soon I’m sorry for the lateness

[r0seb100d]

♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ 🦢

[auburnhairedwaiter]

[ The bustling sounds of the city were resonant as always, with an auburn-haired waiter awaiting customers within the serendipitous bistro, La Gueule de Saturne. Upon your arrival, he bowed slightly, gesturing towards the array of tables with a smooth, mellow voice. ]

[ Asks are OPEN! ]

"Bienvenue à La Gueule de Saturne. What would you like to have today, dear customer?"

"Aaah... I guess I should start by setting the ground rules!"

1. You gonna act inappropriately with the waiter? Don't expect to return to the bistro! Don't repeatedly cross boundaries and we're tout bon!

2. Go ahead and tell us about anything and everything! Well- not everything, but know that you can open up here if need be!

3. Please be a decent customer and speak politely and comprehensibly! None of that… skibidi thing.

4. Every now and then, we'll let the customers give requests to the waiters! Go as wild as you want so long as it's not inappropriate! (Anon magic)

5. Once again, always be a decent customer! Please be polite to the staff and your fellow diners!

"Enjoy your stay!"

~♠︎ ooc notes underneath

~♠︎ tags:

🏷table for one -> in character

🏷waiter's break -> chatting/reblog

🏷customer inquiries -> answering asks

🏷faceless customer -> anon

🏷bistro events -> anon magic

~♠︎ character tags:

🏷sous chef -> Vincent Charbonneau

🏷mi amor -> Marieanne "Manon" Vacher

🏷winter child -> Winnie Bosko

🏷summer seredipity -> Augustine Orlov

🏷white-haired dame -> Angelica

🏷guardian angel -> Forcas

🏷nouvelle embauche -> Protag

🏷blond nuisance -> Coworker

🏷sharp tongue -> Antag

🏷fragile bird -> Colleague

🏷monochrome smile -> Normal Guy

🏷future mariée -> Da Jeong Choi

🏷pretty in pink -> Myeong Hoon Dan

🏷crimson laces -> Bok Su Go

~♠︎ anon list:

… It's empty right now!

mod: @lopilofficial

please don't hound my DMs in my OG blog! this blog is run for fun, so don't pressure me into answering asks! have fun asking!

other blogs:

@doppelcoworker - Colleague ask blog

@polaroid-angel - Eloquent Countenance AU RP blog

[prissypixie]

Dilara Findikoglu Bubble Cut Dress💋

[disarmluna]

Florence Welch @ Spotify Beach in France 

[royalty-nobility]

Eleonora Di Toledo

Artist: Agnolo Bronzino (Florentine, 1503-1572)

Date: c. 1560

Medium: Oil on Panel

Collection: National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC, United States

Eleonora Di Toledo

Eleanor of Toledo (Spanish: Leonor Álvarez de Toledo y Pimentel-Osorio, Italian: Eleonora di Toledo; 11 January 1522 – 17 December 1562) was a Spanish noblewoman who became Grand Duchess of Florence as the first wife of Cosimo I de' Medici. A keen businesswoman, she financed many of her husband's political campaigns and important buildings like the Pitti Palace. She ruled as regent of Florence during his frequent absences: Eleanor ruled during Cosimo's military campaigns in Genoa in 1541 and 1543, his illness from 1544 to 1545, and again at times during the war for the conquest of Siena (1551–1554). She founded many Jesuit churches. She is credited with being the first modern first lady or consort.

[shiepiffy]

tag dump !!

𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐚 (art tag; for both doodles and final art)

𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧 (persona/sona tag)

𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐚 (rambles/vent/etc)

[meetingthestarcatchers]

Crimson Lace (pt 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x fem!reader

Summary: You have trouble placing a finger on where you know him from, until he invites you in.

Warnings: nsfw (MDNI), angst if you squint

A/n: I honestly cannot thank you guys enough for the love on part 1! And I think I went a little overboard with the amount of words...oops?

Part 1

After that night, all of the glances in the hallways and in lectures ceased to exist. Whenever you tried to look at his face, he would never return the smiles and would avoid your eyes completely. You figured that it was just a one-time thing and that you shouldn’t have believed that it would lead to something more.

The alarm on your phone broke you from your sleep, and you moved locks of hair out of your face. You quickly realised that you had a lecture with him next and groaned. Getting changed, you pick up your bag with your laptop and necessities in, and head to the lecture hall.

You arrived a few minutes early and picked a seat a few rows from the front and set everything up. You heard the door open and looked over to see Jake walking in, his hair not tied up this morning, which made him look slightly angelic, you thought to yourself. He looked up and caught your eye.

You watched as he walked up the stairs, past you, and to the one above you. You weren't quite sure whether to speak to him or leave him be. The argument carried on in your head until it was interrupted by a tap on your shoulder. You turned around and saw a slight smile on his face.

"You wouldn't happen to have a charger, would you?" He asked, sounding hopeful, and you shook your head.

"I charge mine the night before, so no." You said either a slight sharpness in your voice. You go to turn back around, but he grabs your shoulder.

"I've been meaning to talk to you..." He said, and you raised your eyebrows. He opens his mouth to speak again but gets cut off by the professor.

"You'll all be glad to know that I've got your first project to assign to you." His voice rings out around the hall, and a few groans are heard.

"I'll be pairing you up with someone else in the class, and you'll have 2 weeks to do it." He starts to read out a few pairs from the sheet of paper until you hear your name.

"Y/n and Jake"

You feel your heart stop for a second, and you close your eyes in annoyance. You swore you heard a quiet chuckle come from behind you, reminding you of the laugh he let out during the stream.

The lecture passed fairly quickly, and you started packing up everything. You sensed Jake behind you as if he were waiting for you.

"Can I help you?" You asked without facing him.

"You got anything going on for the rest of the day?" He asked, and you thought for a second before lifting your bag up, facing him and shaking your head.

"Great. Neither have I. Let's get started on this project, shall we?" He said, and you went to cut in, but he stopped you.

"I also need to talk to you...please?" He said, almost begging, and you felt a familiar hot flush over your body. You rolled your eyes and nodded, watching his mouth form into a smile.

You walked together in silence until you reached an unfamiliar building. He reached for the door handle and pulled it open and stood to the side.

"Ladies first." He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but blush at his actions, completely forgetting that just over an hour ago, he was ignoring your existence. You stood awkwardly as you waited for him to shut the large door.

"You're going to have to lead the way" you said and he nodded and cocked his head to the side as a signal to follow him up the stairs. The pair of you soon reached a door where he pulled out his keys and unlocked it and walked inside.

You were met with a small kitchen with a wooden table in the middle, with four matching chairs surrounding it.

"My roommate isn't home so we can work out here or in my room if you want" he reached up to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. You shrugged carelessly.

"Okay then" he mumbled and pulled out a chair to sit down. You followed suit and began researching and communicating how you were going to share the work. Soon enough, an hour had passed and you felt your stomach start to grumble quietly. It seemed as though Jake had the same problem as he stopped typing and sighed.

He stood up and reached out to stretch, walking over to the cupboards and sighing when he was met with emptiness.

"How do you feel about ordering something?" you heard and you lifted your head up from your hand to look at him.

"Yeah sure, like what?" you asked and he frowned and thought for a minute. "Fancy Olive Garden?" he suggested and your eyes widened.

"You're in university and you can afford Olive Garden?" you said and he shrugged.

"Well considering what I do..." he said and you realised and looked down at your work immediately, hearing a quiet chuckle coming from Jake.

"About that actually-" he started before you quickly stopped him.

"Can we order food and then talk about it?" you asked and he nodded, pulling out his phone. After a quick conversation over food orders, he walked back over to you and hesitantly picked up your hand to lead you to the couch.

You both sat down and silence filled the room. "Listen, about the other night..." he started and you smiled softly.

"I get if it was a mistake, I totally understand" you said and he looked at you confused.

"A mistake? It wasn't a mistake, I meant to say those things" he replied and now it was your turn to look confused.

"But why wouldn't you look at me in the corridors? Or at least try to talk to me?" you asked curiously and he sighed and looked down at the sofa, picking at a thread coming undone.

He shrugged. "Some people know what I do, I figured if I didn't talk to you then no one would realise that it was you online. Thought I was doing what was best." he shrugged again. Your mind was running miles per hour as you were understanding what he had just told you.

"Trust me, I wanted to talk to you. Desperately. I just didn't know how" he looked up at your face to see your reaction.

"At least I know it wasn't a mistake now..." you said quietly. You watched him nod along out of your peripheral vision. Finally looking up, you speak again.

"Could you maybe...show me...that it wasn't an accident?" you asked, feeling vulnerable and Jake's eyes went round at your request. He nodded eagerly but quickly pulled you back onto the couch.

"I don't want to rush things" he said smiling softly and you nodded in understanding. You watched as he brought his hand up to rest on your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin gently. He muttered a few things under his breath but none of them were heard by you.

Within a split second you feel Jake's lips press against yours. Your breath hitches for a second before you relax into the kiss and return the action. You bring one of your hands to rest on his neck, and the other on his chest, just above his heart. You giggle slightly at the feeling of his racing heart, beating quickly under your palm. He pulls away confused.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, and you nod, your laughs subsiding.

"Your heart is beating a little faster than it should be" you say and he lets out a sigh of relief.

"You had me worrying I was doing something wrong" he replied and you shook your head. "I was rather enjoying it actually" you responded.

He pulled you in for another kiss and you could feel his lips curl up into a smile. You could feel your stomach tying itself up in knots at the simple action, bringing your other hand that was resting on his chest up to his neck as well.

You continued to make out until a slam of a door echoed from the room above. Pulling away quickly, you tilted your head back and felt Jake pull you towards him a little more by the waist.

"No one's gonna interrupt us, right?" you asked cautiously and he shook his head.

"My roommate always stays at his partner's dorm on Wednesday nights so there's no need to worry, sweetheart" he told you, his voice almost like honey which made your stomach flutter once again.

"Do you want to go to my room, maybe?" he asked nervously and you nodded, feeling confident enough. He picked up your hand and led you down the corridor and to his room.

Upon opening the door, strip lights filled the room with a soft blue hue. His bed was in the corner, surrounded by posters and photos of who you presumed were his family. He walked over towards it and sat down on the bed, a quiet creak following.

"Come on, sweet girl..." He said, signalling for you to come closer to him, and you found your feet moving by themselves towards him. As you got nearer to him, you smelt his cologne that had hints of wood and coffee. "There she is...so pretty for me" he commented and you blushed furiously.

He brought his hands up to rest on your waist and pressed a light kiss to your stomach before looking up at you with his gorgeous brown eyes. You smiled down at him before running a hand through his long hair and then moved to sit down next to him and he smiled at you softly.

"Do you trust me?" he asked quietly and you nodded truthfully and the next thing you knew, you were lying down on his bed, your head resting on the soft pillow.

"Can I take these off?" he questioned and a small whine escaped your throat. He smirked at the noise and unbuttoned your trousers, pulling them down teasingly.

"Patience sweet girl" he muttered and kissed the top of your thighs while he threw the piece of clothing onto the floor, resulting in a soft thud. You watched as he slipped his fingers under your panties and looked at you for confirmation. You nodded and he slipped those off as well.

Jake moaned as he kissed your swollen clit lightly before swirling his tongue over it, taking your bundle of nerves into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your head fell back in pleasure before he glided his tongue down and licked into your pussy. He rubbed his middle finger and ring finger through your folds wetting them with your slick before curling his fingers inside you, hitting your sweet spot and making you moan out. Your eyes closed as your hips moved against his fingers.

"You gonna cum baby? Squeezing me so good..." he mumbled before going back to his previous actions.

Soon enough, that coil in your stomach snapped and you came all over his fingers. He continued moving his fingers, letting you ride out your high as he moved up and crashed his lips to yours as you moaned, your hands wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

He slowed his actions and pulled back, looking at your face, still contorted with pleasure.

"You're so beautiful..." he spoke quietly and you grinned but quickly groaned when you felt him remove his fingers from inside you. You could feel his hard-on through his jeans, pressed into your thigh and you brought your hand down to palm him but he stopped you. You frowned and he simply smiled and kissed your hand instead.

"Not today." he replied, seeing the confusion on your face. "Today was just about you." You felt your heart warm at his words, and leaned up to kiss him. He grinned and kissed you back.

"Looks like we'll have to finish researching another day. Could I have your number?" He asked, his cheek turning red even in the blue-lit room and you nodded.

After exchanging numbers, you quickly pulled your underwear and trousers up, walked back out into the kitchen, and started packing your things away. Jake watched you carefully before opening the front door and giving you a quick kiss.

"I'll text you, okay?" he said and you smiled and nodded.

"I'll be waiting" you answered, walking out and back to your own dorm. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling widely and squealing in excitement once you arrived at your room.

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taglist: @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @takenbythemadness @godly-sinsx @ignite-my-fire @gretasfallingsky @sanguinebats @literal-dead-leaf @jakeygvf21 @freefallthoughts @jaketsguitar @livkiszka @violet-hayes

If you wanna be on the taglist, the link is here!

As always, comment, likes and reblogs are welcome! <3

[kbwrites]

“Achoo!” 

You sneeze again, rubbing your nose, you feel absolutely.

Terrible.

All day, you’ve barely been able to do anything but blow your nose and lie down for five minutes before your head starts spinning. Just when you think it can’t get any worse, you hear the doorknob click.

Shit.

You promised to make dinner tonight.

“I’m home.” his deep voice fills the air, sending you into a mild panic as you scramble toward the kitchen, hoping to whip something up in time.

He steps in, towering figure leaning against the doorframe, eyebrow quirked up in confusion.

“Sorry Ryo! I’ll get you something to eat soon.”

He doesn’t respond at first, just watches you with narrowed eyes. Then, he moves closer, his steps slow and deliberate. Before you know it, he’s right in front of you, staring down. 

He stretches a hand out, touching the back of his hand to your forehead.

“You… are ill.” He states, furrowing his brow.

“It’s just a cold—“

He grunts, clearly annoyed. “Why would you try to cook in this condition?”

“Because I promised… and I didn’t want you to get mad.” you say looking down at your feet. 

Sukuna lets out a low, irritated growl, turning on his heel and stalking toward the kitchen. 

"Sit down."

You blink, watching him in surprise as he opens the fridge and starts pulling out ingredients, his movements efficient and swift. He spares you a glance, and you hesitate before shuffling over to the couch.

"You shouldn’t be doing this for me." your voice laced with guilt, watching his broad back as he chops vegetables.

Sukuna grunts, his eyes flicking toward you, sharp and unyielding. "I am not that idiot you dated before.” he says flatly, the disgust in his voice unmistakable. "You’re sick. I’m not letting you do anything."

The words hit harder than you expect, and you feel a warmth settle in your chest.  As he seasons the food with the same precision he brings to everything, you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

The soft clink of the spoon against the pot is the only sound for a moment before his voice cuts through again, harsher this time. 

"If you ever push yourself like that again, especially for me, I’ll make sure you regret it."

Your smile fades, but there's comfort in his rough concern. "I won’t." you promise.

A short silence follows, broken only by the bubbling of the soup. When he finally brings the bowl over, he sets it down with a firm thud, crimson eyes watching you closely. "Eat."

You pick up the spoon, feeling overwhelmed by how cared for you are. "Thank you."

His eyes narrow slightly, lips curling in disdain. 

"Tch. The bar's in hell if you think I wouldn’t take care of you."

[connorsui]

Next to my wife

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the overhead fluorescent light, casting a sterile glow over the darkened office. The glass walls reflected the sharp lines of the man standing at its center—a man whose reputation was whispered with equal parts, fear, and reverence. Dressed in a tailored black suit, his presence was as sharp and cold as the knife that rested on the desk beside him.

Before him, a man knelt on the polished floor, bound and bloodied, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The once-pristine white shirt he wore was now stained with crimson, clinging to his trembling frame. Despite the fear in his eyes, he forced himself to speak, his voice hoarse but unwavering.

“After everything you have done,” he rasped, each word dragging itself out of his throat, “how will you sleep at night?”

The suited man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a practiced flick of his lighter. The flame illuminated his face for a brief moment—sharp jawline, calculating eyes, and an expression that betrayed no hint of remorse. He took a slow drag, exhaling a stream of smoke that curled lazily into the air before speaking.

“Next to my wife,” he said simply, his voice low and even, as if the question had been nothing more than idle conversation.

The man on the floor blinked, disbelief flickering across his face. “Your... wife?” he spat, the word tasting bitter on his tongue. “You speak of love? You? After the lives you’ve destroyed? The families you’ve torn apart?”

The suited man’s lips curved into a faint smile—not one of amusement, but something softer, almost wistful. He walked around the kneeling man, his footsteps deliberate and slow, the sharp click of his shoes against the marble floor the only sound in the room.

“You think a man like me can’t love?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with a quiet intensity. “You think all I am is the blood on my hands?” He paused, turning to face the prisoner, the glow of the cigarette illuminating his face. “Maybe I am. But she—she’s the one thing in this world that’s clean. Untouched by all of this.”

He gestured around the room, as though the opulent surroundings—the leather furniture - the glass walls overlooking the glittering city—were as tainted as he was.

“She knows what I am,” he continued, his voice softening. “And she loves me anyway. Not because she’s blind to the things I’ve done, but because she sees the man I could be—the man I am with her.”

The kneeling man shook his head, his expression a mix of fury and disbelief. “You think that makes you a good man? That loving her wipes away all the lives you’ve taken?”

The suited man crouched down then, bringing himself to eye level with the prisoner. His gaze was steady, unflinching, as he spoke.

“No,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “I’m not a good man. I never will be. But for her, I’m the best version of myself I can be. And if that means burning down the rest of the world to keep her safe, so be it.”

He straightened, taking another drag of his cigarette before extinguishing it in a nearby ashtray. The room fell silent again, the tension thick enough to choke on.

A knock at the door broke the moment. The man’s expression softened immediately as the door opened, and you stepped inside.

You were a vision of understated elegance, dressed in a simple black dress that clung to your frame just enough to hint at its curves. Your eyes, warm and bright, scanned the room before landing on him.

“It’s late,” you said softly, your voice carrying a quiet authority that made the man standing in the room seem almost ordinary.

He nodded, crossing the room to you. His hand found yours, and he lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles with a tenderness that seemed impossible for a man like him.

Your gaze flicked to the prisoner, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “Is everything handled?”

“It will be,” he assured you, his voice gentle now, as though you had the power to soften the sharp edges of his world.

You smiled, a small, knowing smile, and leaned into him. “Good. Come to bed.”

As you both left, his hand resting protectively on the small of your back, he paused at the door and glanced over his shoulder at the prisoner.

“How do I sleep at night?” he repeated, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I sleep with her. And she’s the only peace I’ve ever known.”

The door closed behind him, leaving the room silent but for the hum of the light and the weight of his words.

The husband in question: Geto Suguru, Caleb, Sylus, Vladimir, Sukuna, In-ho (The Front man), Eren Yeager, Toji Fushiguro, Bucky Barnes, Loki, Jason Todd, Victor Fries (Mr. Freeze), Silco, Overhaul, Dabi

[auburnhairedwaiter]

"So you're that waiter my brother talks about so often.. Rody was it? Nice to meet you, I'm Boksu."

(- @do-you-atone also hii!! :3//ooc)

"Oh? Hello, Boksu! I'm-"

[ He took a while to process Boksu's whole sentence, briefly glancing between her and Vincent at least three times before he finally decided to acknowledge her. ]

[ The uncanny resemblance was there. ]

"(Oh mon Dieu, there's two of them…!)"

"Vince never told me about you before! Uhm, yes, I'm Rody! I'm… flattered that Vince talks about me that much?"

[geneviveleocardius]

“kiss, fuck, or kill—

price, ghost, or könig?”

you had no idea how a silly game during downtime could spiral into this. the question had been innocent enough: “kiss, fuck, or kill—price, ghost, or könig?” you’d laughed, brushing off the idea, but soap had insisted, his grin wicked as he leaned in, waiting for your answer. the others in the room chuckled, the atmosphere light and playful.

“fine,” you had relented, rolling your eyes but secretly enjoying the attention. “i’d kiss könig. he’s just… so sweet and adorable. i really like him.”

soap hooted with laughter while könig, sitting off to the side, froze mid-drink. you’d missed the way his ears turned crimson under his hood.

“fucking ghost, though,” you added, biting your lip without realizing it. “he’s so… hot. just looking at him turns me on.”

ghost, who had been leaning against the far wall, tilted his head slightly. you didn’t notice the way his dark eyes sharpened, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his gaze.

“and price?” soap asked, barely containing his laughter.

“oh, i’m killing price,” you said, laughing. “he’s like a father figure to me. no way i could think of him any other way.”

the room had erupted in laughter, soap practically crying with amusement. you thought that was the end of it.

you were wrong.

a few days later, you found yourself cornered in the dimly lit storage room. könig and ghost stood in front of you, both men radiating a heat that made your pulse race. you didn’t know how it happened, but the door was closed, and the air felt heavy, charged.

“so,” ghost started, his deep voice laced with amusement, “fuck me because i’m hot, yeah?”

your throat went dry, your eyes darting between them. könig’s hood hid most of his face, but his eyes were locked on you, intense and burning with something you couldn’t quite place.

“and what about me?” könig asked, his voice softer but no less filled with tension. “adorable? sweet? you like me?”

“i—” you stammered, taking a step back until your spine hit the wall.

ghost chuckled darkly, stepping closer. “you really thought that little game wouldn’t reach us?”

könig moved in as well, his massive frame towering over you. “we couldn’t stop thinking about it,” he murmured, his voice low and thick. “you choosing us… the way you said it.”

“and now,” ghost added, his gloved hand reaching out to brush your cheek, “we’re gonna give you exactly what you want.”

your breath hitched as könig’s hands found your waist, his touch gentle but firm. “so pretty,” he whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. it was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring you. his hands slid up your sides, tracing your curves with reverence.

behind you, ghost’s body pressed close, trapping you between them. his hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. “she likes it rough,” he muttered, his breath hot against your ear.

könig pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with adoration. “tell me if it’s too much, schatz,” he said softly, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

ghost chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing your shoulder. “she’s tougher than she looks. aren’t you, love?”

before you could respond, könig’s lips were on yours again, his kiss deep and consuming. his hands roamed your body, gentle yet possessive, while ghost’s hands moved to your thighs, pulling you back against him.

you felt ghost’s teeth sink into the curve of your neck, a low growl rumbling from his chest. “so good for us,” he murmured, his voice rough and filled with hunger.

könig’s kisses trailed down your jaw, his hands lifting your shirt to expose more of your skin. he pressed soft, worshipful kisses along your collarbone, his touch so tender it made your heart ache.

meanwhile, ghost’s grip on your hips tightened as he positioned you against him. “gonna mark you up, sweetheart,” he growled, his lips trailing hot kisses down the back of your neck. “everyone’s gonna know you’re ours.”

könig’s voice was a soothing counterpoint to ghost’s roughness. “you’re perfect,” he murmured, his lips pressing against your temple. “so beautiful. i’ll take care of you.”

your head spun as the two of them worked in tandem, ghost’s rough dominance balanced by könig’s soft, attentive care. you felt every kiss, every touch, every whispered word, and it was overwhelming in the best way.

“you said it yourself,” ghost murmured against your skin, his hands gripping your waist as he slammed against you. “..you want us.”

könig’s lips brushed yours again, his voice soft but firm. “and we want you, schatz. always.”

the hours blurred together, their attention leaving you trembling and breathless. ghost’s gruff dominance and könig’s tender care were a perfect storm, leaving you marked and utterly claimed. by the time they finally let you rest, you were sure of one thing—your little confession had changed everything.

and neither of them would let you forget it.

[syluss-littlecrow]

better than the devil

<sylus x fem!reader>

where you find out if Sylus really has horns, and why he avoids letting you touch them

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, size kink (i mean bro is PACKING), breeding kink, sylus’s horns are ✨sensitive✨, dirty talk, sexual tension, missionary, a fuck ton of horn play, horny horns, cumming untouched, orgams galore!, so much cum♡

w/c: 2.9K

a/n: gotta thank the loml @bro-atz for helping me with this a little ehehehe >:) I hope this destroyed yall as much as this destroyed me to write it!!🥹

They say he takes the form of some dragon-like creature—with large black horns and wings. 

The first time you witnessed it with your own two eyes was when he choked out a serpent wanderer ten times his size before it got to you. You were semi-conscious at that point of time, the fatigue threatening to take over, but you had caught a glimpse of his silhouette—two thick appendages that curled proudly past his dirty silver hair, and large wings that hung off his back—before you blacked out. 

“Staring at me isn’t going to get any of your curiosities satisfied”, Sylus snaps you out of your thoughts. Your gaze flickers to his face, but Sylus has his eyes on his phone. 

Then his gaze shifts to you. 

“What are you thinking about, sweetie?”

Of course, you couldn’t just tell him outright that you wanted to see him magically grow his horns out of his head. You doubt even Luke and Kieran have seen it themselves. 

“Your horns.”

Sylus lowers his phone onto his lap, then he cocks an eyebrow, which turns to a furrow in seconds. 

“What gave you the idea that I grew horns?” He asks, his tone laced with mock and caution. His attention is fully on you now. 

Yeah, maybe that was not a good question to ask. Then again, being around someone as direct as Sylus had made you pick up his mannerisms quite a fair bit. 

“Nothing really”, you brush off, attempting to derail the conversation before something goes wrong. “I’m just curious.”

“Talk”, Sylus demands, albeit in a soft tone. “I’m listening.” 

His crimson eyes burn a hole into your head, and you now only realise the way he has you cornered on his couch, his large frame looming over yours. 

You sigh, realising he’s not about to let it go anytime soon. 

“A few weeks ago, during one of the battles we had, where I almost died-“

“Get to the point, sweetie”, Sylus cuts, seeing through your guise. 

You pout. “Right. Before I blacked out, I saw you appear right in front of me, with horns.”

Sylus raises his eyebrows, seemingly in amusement. “You sure you weren’t hallucinating?”

He earns a smack on his chest. You’re ready to let him disprove you further or whatever, but your body jolts when you feel Sylus snake his arms around your waist before he carries you effortlessly off the corner of the couch and onto his lap. 

You watch his eyes grow soft when he locks his gaze with yours. His expression is unreadable.

Your eyes widen in amazement when the thick pair of horns curl past his locks, the black a stark contrast with his white hair. He looks like he’s wearing bows in a funny, demonic type of way. Not that he has to know that. 

You continue to stare at his horns, visually taking in the rough yet smooth texture and patterns that run downwards as the horns grow thicker towards the base. 

“What are you really?” You wonder aloud, your fingers reaching out to feel the interesting texture of his horns, only for him to pull away quickly.

“It’s not the right time for you to know”, he replies curtly. You notice the glint of concern in his eyes, shrouded under the indifferent expression he wears. 

So you decide to leave it for now, at least. 

Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop you from annoying the ever-loving shit out of Sylus about his horns once you found out about it.

He would stare at you with his eyebrows furrowed, muttering that he should have never told you about his horns, only for you to bat your eyelashes at him, much to his annoyance. 

“At least let me touch them if you’re not gonna tell me more about them”, you would whine. With a frown, he would push your forehead with a finger, giving you his standard answer.

"No."

“Then could you at least tell me why you won’t let me touch your horns?”

He would rest his thumb and index finger on his chin, feigning a thinking stance before his expression drops deadpan and then the curt answer leaves his lips.

“No.”

You’re putting this right next to when you were fighting for your life to get that fucking brooch months ago. 

While the thought continues to eat into your curiosity, you mostly let Sylus off the hook after a while. For some reason, you’ve been noticing that Sylus has been walking around his mansion with his horns freely out. Maybe because he’s shown you his full horns once that’s why?

Or he’s just straight-up taunting you. 

You feign nonchalance, only stealing glances at the thick appendage that stood out against his pale locks from time to time, but never really bringing it up to him, for now at least.

You hear the raindrops patter against the large windows of Sylus's room one afternoon. At least the heavy clouds are hiding the sun on top of the dark curtains drawn, and it makes Sylus's rest a little more comfortable. 

He's sound asleep beside you on his bed, but you're seated up on your phone, the sound of the rain also slowly luring you to grow sleepy. You stretch a little, careful not to wake the male beside you. Sylus grunts softly, and you feel his hair tickle your thighs.

Through your peripherals, something catches your attention. The black on white is undoubtedly hard to miss.

Now that Sylus seems dead asleep, you're considering taking a chance to take a closer look at his horns, and maybe even touch them. 

Carefully, you shift your weight closer to Sylus, monitoring his expressions and movements. When the coast is clear, you lean closer, staring at his horns with much amazement. It's a lot different now that you're this up close to admire them. 

His horns aren't simply a simple shade of jet black–at different angles, you notice how the scales of his horns shimmer like an oil spill under the soft light. Close up, the base of his horns are thick, and as it extends, it curls, almost fully wrapping around his head. 

“So pretty”, you mutter to yourself. Your fingers are reached out as if by instinct, barely inches away from touching his pretty crown. 

You pause, weighing the risks of attempting to touch his horns. How fucked would you be if you actually did? 

Your eyes scan Sylus’s calm sleeping face. He doesn't seem to have even noticed his horns have grown out. 

“It’s just a little touch, he won't feel it anyways”, you convince yourself softly, your resolve firming as your curiosity begins to bubble over your rationale.

You let your fingers brush his horn, feeling the cold and scaly texture beneath your fingertips. Your eyes are sparkling in amazement even more, now that your curiosity has been satisfied. You press your fingertips onto the appendage, enjoying how nice and cool it feels to the touch.

Just then, you hear Sylus groan slightly. Your hand immediately retracts before you fully freeze, watching the way he presses his head against your leg, his eyebrows slightly scrunched before it returns back to relaxed. 

Close call. 

You obviously don’t learn your lesson, because your fingers are on his horns almost immediately once more. You grow more curious about the feeling of running your palm across his horns this round. 

So you do.

Your hand starts from the thick base, and you stroke it, following the horn's curl, enjoying the way the texture of the scales run smooth under your palm.

And then Sylus makes a sound beneath you. You squint in curiosity, wondering if you heard it right.

So you run your hand from his tip to the base this time. 

And this time, Sylus lets out another moan. You definitely did not hear wrong. 

Your cheeks are slowly flushing when you realise what you're doing to him. But for some reason, it makes you want to do it more.

So this is why he doesn't want you touching his horns? 

With a cheeky smile, you run your fingers along his horns in various ways and places, eliciting more pretty and erotic reactions from Sylus. 

You giggle to yourself, trying to ignore how he's making you aroused with all the noises he's making with every stroke you give his horns. 

You want to go for the next round, wondering how far you can take this.

Obviously not very far, because the next time you do, Sylus’s hand catches your wrist before you're about to touch his horns again.

He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, pink dusted on his cheeks and his breathing shallow.

“Are you having fun, kitten?” He asks with a frown.

Fuck.

You feign a smile, trying to wave your hand from his grip, of course, your attempts futile. 

Sylus’s other arm curls around your thighs, locking you from leaving the bed while Sylus lets his sleep leave his body from the rude interruption. 

“Denying me of satisfying my curiosity only makes it worse”, you shrug. Well, if only Sylus had just let you have a little touch…

The corner of Sylus’s lips pull up to a half smirk. 

“Right”, Sylus replies, a hint of annoyance and something else laced in his tone before he shifts above you in one swift motion, trapping you underneath him on his bed. 

“Then, I'm sure you don't have to be reminded that actions have consequences?”

You swallow hard. 

His hand that grabbed yours is placed on his chest, and he forces you to trail down his body, feeling his thick chest, then his abs under your touch, all the way down until he stops you right on his thick erection.

“You should take responsibility, don't you think?” Sylus asks with a raised eyebrow. 

You know it's pointless even attempt to escape when he’s devouring your lips like he hasn't eaten in days. It's so intoxicating. You would never admit your greed, but Sylus knows you well enough to feed you so good. You want to pull him so impossibly close.

In between breathless kisses, your warm hands trail from his biceps to his shoulders, to his neck, and right to his hair.

You test waters–letting your fingers rake through his hair, grazing the base of his horns. You get his green light when he doesn't swat you off, on the contrary, it makes Sylus grow more desperate in the kiss.

You confidently stroke his horn, from base to tip once more, and the moans that leave Sylus’s lips sound like fucking heaven. 

His crimson eyes finally meet yours, and he almost looks like he's in pain. 

“If you keep doing that–ngh–” Sylus trails off with another strained moan when the sensation of you stroking his horn buzzes right to his cock that he has shut his eyes to hold back. 

“This?” you tease, sliding your palm down to his base once more, rubbing the scaly appendage, watching him failing at trying to keep his composure. 

“Fuck”, he hisses, diving into your lips once more, eating you up. 

He pulls away briefly, pressing his lips just below your ear.

“You’re gonna be taking responsibility, kitten.”

He presses himself close onto you, so close that you feel his cock just pulsing against your pelvis, only separated by his black sweats. Sylus takes your chin in his fingers and steals your breath away once more, uncontrollably grunting with every stroke your hands play with his horns. You feel his cock twitch, then pulse before the feeling of warmth spreads across your skin, accompanied by a long, drawn out moan in your mouth.

It makes you dizzy with bliss, realising what you've done to him. 

Sylus pulls away once more, catching his breath, his eyes reflecting something more feral when you met his. 

But all you do is flash a cheeky smile at him, letting your fingers caress his cheek. 

His fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts and he yanks them off, almost growing feral for the second time when his eyes meet the sight of the way your pussy is glistening so much that a wet and thin string of arousal sticks itself in between your pussy and your soaked panties. 

Well, Sylus is holding the short end of the stick anyway, because when he tugs his sweats down, your heartbeat accelerates as your eyes land on his cock–thick, red and completely covered in white and thick cum, some staining his underwear, twitching slightly with dribbles of cum seeping past his cockhead when the fabric brushes past his balls. 

He looks so fucking delicious when he's messy like that. Shit.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself, staring at me like that”, he teases. He doesn't even look embarrassed.

“Maybe I should play with your horns more often”, you reply with a smile. Sylus narrows his eyes at you, his expression mixed with annoyance and affection. His fingers press against your soaking clit, enjoying the way the smile on your face gets wiped, replaced with a contorted expression of pleasure when he rubs it in slow circles. 

“I’m strongly against that idea, sweetie”, Sylus responds, leaning in to take in the expression of your mind slowly growing dumb and blank just from his slender fingers rubbing you out. “It’ll give you a little too much leverage over me.”

Through the hazy and building pleasure, you still manage to reply, “that's the whole point.”

Sylus only smiles at your reply, his fingers leaving your clit. You're about to protest, that is, until he grabs you by your hips, dragging you closer to him, then pressing your knees to your chest, before his wet cock slowly enters you from below. He watches your face contort in pleasure–your eyes rolling back and your eyebrows furrowed–while soaking in the fucking delicious feeling of your cunt warm and wrapped around his cock. 

“S-so good”, you whimper, his fullness knocking out any ounce of breath and sense out of you at a dangerous pace the his cock inches even deeper into you.

“Such a nice and warm pussy hole”, Sylus grits, pushing himself even deeper, his control slipping when he's buried himself all the way in. “Fuck, you're so good for me, kitten.”

You're clawing his pillows when Sylus starts fucking you, and you're looking at Sylus with such a glazed out expression–and you know it drives him fucking crazy. His palm rests on the bulge that his cock is pushing every time he enters you, and it makes your thighs shake. Your moans grow in pitch and tone on top of the sounds of lewd wet skin slapping. 

He lets you wrap your legs around his waist in return for letting him scatter love bites across your neck.

So you decide that it’s the perfect time to aim for his sensitive spots once more.

Your fingers tug against his scalp, then alternating to stroking his horns once more, throwing Sylus into another round of pleasured daze. 

You feel his cock fill you up even more, and it makes you greedy to how far you can push it.

“I really should make you regret this”, Sylus mutters, failing to suppress another groan when your fingers scratch against the base. 

His thrusts become more like ruts, his cockhead hitting your g-spot over and over as payback. Sylus sprouts a satisfied smirk as he watches you completely come undone on his cock. You throw your head back while stars flicker in and out of your vision. The pleasure is growing so fucking good that you're choking on your moans too. 

“Right there! Fuck, that feels so fucking good, Sylus”, you sob through wet lashes and heavy pants. 

Sylus is mesmerised by your pretty expressions and the pretty sounds you always make for him when he's breaking you apart. 

Maybe you finding out about his sensitive horns is his punishment for indulging in these sick pleasures. Nonetheless, he still wouldn't have any other way.

Your hands find his horns once more, and he falters for a split second. But he doesn't shake you off since he's much too focused on trying to force an orgasm out of you.

Your pussy squeezes him before it starts uncontrollably fluttering against his cock. Ah, his goal is slowly being fulfilled.

As your orgasm dangles above you, you react with periodical squeezes on his cock and his horns, which definitely draws a much larger reaction from Sylus. 

“So close”, you whine, your orgasm slowly filling the crevices of your brain, plunging you deep into pleasure. Your cunt clenches on his cock, and you unintentionally yank his horns.

Sylus fucking growls, pressing himself so fucking deep into you, his cum fucking spurting into you–so much that some is leaking out from your plugged pussy hole and onto the bed. 

He pulls his cock out momentarily, letting his cum ooze from his cockhead, his eyes darting to the loads seeping out of your hole, before he slides his cock into you once more. You gasp at the fullness, another squeeze to his horns, which only stimulates Sylus once more, and his cock fills you up with another warm and sticky load. 

He’s panting, but he musters his energy to meet your eyes. 

“Sweetie”, he calls out to you amidst his dick attempting to take over his brain. “If you don't get your hands off, your pussy won't be able to hold anymore, I guarantee.”

He's met with a fucked-out and sly grin from his partner. 

“And I thought you enjoyed challenges.”

Sylus scoffs at your comment, realising that he really has to teach his kitten a lesson to not touch things that aren't hers.

[meownotgood]

arcane season 2 spoilers

════════════════════

"Can you feel anything?" 

Viktor's foreign body shudders against his will; your fingertips trace down his chest, tingling, sparking, akin to little specks of light burning into his second-skin. The sound of your muddled voice barely registers. His head tosses back with a slight thud, hair fanned out as a halo. He allows your knees to bracket his waist, and keeps his arms sprawled above him — despite the aching in his dead heart to just touch you. The pulsing of the arcane beneath his system is hardly under control yet. 

It would be a risk he's willing to take, a necessary step to learn, if it were anyone else besides you. 

And Viktor does feel — so much, in fact, but it isn't anything explainable. The festering in his core, threatening to come up through his throat. The whirring, the throbbing of every muscle, rich with glowing rivers of purple. Shining with a mixture of magic and energy and his own blood. 

He's only distantly aware of your hand when it reaches his stomach, examining the juncture between cool metal and unholy flesh. Gears and bolts mimic the outline of ribs. Your touches are curious, distinctly gentle. Picking up on old habits, and trying not to break him, still. Then, your palm reaches up; it boldly cradles his cheek, brushes his pallid skin. And this, he can sense. 

It's familiar, human. Excruciatingly soft when your thumb brushes the space on his cheek, just above his beauty mark. It puts an easy feeling back in his chest, something he almost began to believe he'd forgotten. As warm as a shimmering sun, as molten as liquid gold. 

Nothing else matters but this moment, but you, and him. There is no outcome, across each expansive universe and every edge of the arcane, where the two of you would not meet again like this. You were meant to. Born and reborn to. 

Your gaze finds his, soft eyes glancing down at him, your expression crossed between pain and relief. You eclipse all of his vision: light fuzzy at your edges, your face a hazy memory that he'd still see with his eyes closed. You're a reminder of what it means to be alive. 

Viktor doesn't envy you. You've told him of nightmares, before. Dreams you had before this, of your mind putting yourself through the tragedy of watching him die ages before you truly had to. It must be difficult to see him like this, despite your best attempts to hide any uncertainty. 

Your hand shakes. He can feel it trembling, unsteady on his cheek. And every molecule in Viktor's system explodes, laced with the yearning to remember — to let hazy lovesickness swell within his palms and his new figments. To pull you closer, in an effort to convince himself you won't be taken away. 

Every echo of you is innate. Your voice, your name, your fingerprints. Your presence has the Hexcore — or what's become of him, what has embodied the Hexcore — blissfully, endlessly silent. The way you look at him, soft and brutally innocent, puts a chasmic, vivid hole in his center. Gods, you still look at him the same, just as you did when the two of you were young and innocent. The rot in him tells him he isn't worthy of it. 

Viktor's eyes swirl like kaleidoscopes. Drops of crimson swirling in pure water. Your brows pinch, a sight he finds frustrating and pretty, as you silently examine him. Emotions curl in your lungs, tearing and hungry and knife-like; stricken with attachment, or perhaps blaming yourself, Viktor figures. 

Exhaustion runs heavy in your expression, reminding him of looking into a mirror. He knows this look. You haven't slept. Haven't given yourself any form of a break, it seems.

So, he takes a chance. 

Your hand brushes some stray, messy strands of hair from his forehead, just as Viktor guides his weak arm to reach for you. You don't tense, don't move. He can hear your breathing, thinks he can still feel his. There isn't an ounce of fear in the way you look at him. You have always looked at him like he holds the world in his hands. And now, perhaps he does. 

His hand finds your cheek, same as yours. Copying, following. Thin, delicate, purple-hued fingers trace the edge of your face clumsily, still learning how to touch. Still afraid the line between hurt and healing might be blurred, and you are the one person left that he can't let get caught in the crossfire. You lean into his palm, trusting, and let go of a breath that makes your shoulders shake with the weight of it. 

Viktor thinks of crying, despite the press and pull in his chest that convinces him he shouldn't be able to. He can feel you. It isn't like the few touches he's experienced so far, or the aching, anomalous strength he's been forced to get used to. It contradicts the very constructs of everything he thought made sense. 

Your skin is so soft, sickly familiar. Viktor holds your face shakily, afraid to move. He can feel your individual atoms. Innumerable sparks just beneath his touch, galaxies upon universes of stars in your name, that beg to be grasped, possessed, cured. He cradles you with all of the devotion of a prophet, with all of the tenderness of a past friend: an almost-destiny, a saved seat at the edge of something more. 

Would clumsily pulling you in, and pressing his lips to yours feel wrong, or tangible — like nothing, or like everything? 

"Vik?" 

Your tone, sweeter than honeysuckle, sweeter than anything he might deserve, brings his vision back into focus. He blinks. Gaze never tearing away from his, your fingertips drop to thread the hard edge of his collarbone. A silent plea, can you feel this? You find each curve of his bones and his body easily, the details already memorized. Viktor senses the ghost of you, your touch gentle, something like home. 

"I'm not sure," Viktor finally answers; and the scientist, Hexgate creator, still-ambitious part of himself is hardly satisfied with that answer. His voice is quiet, distant. As though he isn't there, despite the lingering, familiar tenderness to his tone. 

The fried synapses in his brain can't yet separate a caress from a threat, he just perceives the lingering energy. He believes you could be the one to teach him the difference. 

This time, you let your palm press flat to his chest. There's a hum that attempts to mimic a heartbeat, a lack of coolness or heat. The action presses your form closer to his, guides you to lean part of your weight on him to bring your faces far too close. Sharing in the same reflection. Allowing each breath to be measured, along with every hesitation. 

What should he start with? Should he embrace you, holding you tight and close like you're sacrificial? Should he grab your hand in his, press his palm to your skin to measure your heartbeat? Lace his smallest finger with yours, to make you a promise like he used to? 

He can't promise you peace, nor the life you deserve, but if you came for him now, was it not a swear to follow him anywhere? 

There are still so many things left to feel, and every red thread has always begun and ended with you. 

Can you feel anything? 

Viktor guides a hand over yours, keeps it to his chest selfishly; he meets your gaze, he hums, "Are you eager to find out?"