If there was one thing people wouldn’t get tired asking Victor these days… it was his personal life. He tries his best to remain stoic whenever the topic arises but of course, he can’t help but feel annoyed and offended.
It was one thing that people were curious about LFG’s bachelor CEO, but poking into his private matters was a different matter altogether.
LFG employees knew from the very start their CEO had no time for relationships. Although Goldman wants his boss to be successful in the field of love as well, as they say people can’t have everything.
Goldman: Boss, I was asked by G Company if you would be available next week from dates 11 to 13. You don’t have plans on the other days but 13 is your birthday. Will you be having any plans?
Ever since becoming Victor’s secretary, Goldman knew his boss considered his birthday as any other day. At times, he can’t help but feel sad since this was probably because work has always been his priority.
Victor: Have the meeting moved earlier so I'll be back by the 13th.
Goldman: Boss?!
Goldman couldn’t believe what he just heard. CEO Victor has plans for his birthday this year? Is this a miracle? The heavens has probably heard his plea for the single workaholic boss.
Victor: Did you not hear what I just said, Goldman?
Goldman: No, Sir. I’ve heard clearly. I’ll inform G Company to have the meeting days set on an earlier date.
Victor: And have my schedule cleared on that day.
Goldman: I’ll do just that, Sir.
Hearing his boss having plans on his birthday was indeed a shock to Goldman.
Victor: Is there anything else?
Goldman: Nothing, Sir. It’s just…
Victor: What is it?
Goldman: Enjoy the day, Sir.
Was it that peculiar for him to celebrate on his birthday? Victor thought as he looked at the retreating back of his secretary. Just as he was going back to reading the company’s monthly report, his phone pinged.
Is CEO Victor busy? Would he mind having lunch together?
Looking at the pile of reports he had to check on, he swiftly replied to the sender.
I have time. Meet me at Souvenir.
MC: Seems like boss is in a good mood today. Is it because it’s almost your birthday?
Victor: You’re definitely hungry seeming as to how you’re spouting such nonsense.
MC: I take it back. Mr. CEO wouldn’t feel excited over his own birthday. He’s so weird.
Victor ignored the girl and placed food on the table.
MC: As expected, LFG’s CEO is the best undercover chef there is in Loveland.
After eating, MC helped in washing the dishes since Victor was the one who cooker. This was an agreement the two of them decided upon ever since he didn’t bill her for the meals in Souvenir.
MC: Do you have any plans on your birthday? Will you be celebrating with your Dad and Auntie?
Victor: They’re currently out of town but they already sent their regards. And like you’ve said I’m not one to be excited over aging another year.
Realizing his answer, MC cannot help pouting. Victor was teasing her again.
MC: So CEO Victor has no plans or work? Does he mind celebrating with me?
Victor: I think a certain dummy already knows the answer to that.
Although Victor wasn’t comfortable when the public insistently pried unto his personal matters, he was very open to his family. This includes the girl he always held dear to his heart.
Up until this moment, everyone knows how he never really celebrates any kinds of occasion. Whether it was his birthday, Christmas, or even new year, it was just another day for him. Rather than celebrating it, there were far more better things to do. He was a busy man after all.
Until she came.
The girl who persistently wanted to celebrate with him whenever possible. At first, he found it tedious. Victor wasn’t exactly thrilled to suddenly have these changes in his life.
Except now, he unconsciously looked forward to the upcoming festivities no matter how big or small it was.
As time went by, his happiness only grew. And his heart... was filled with love.
Just like when he celebrated with his parents as a child, Victor anticipated the day he was born into this world. A day which was once any other day to him.
MC: Happy Birthday, Victor! I know you don’t enjoy blowing candles but at least make a wish for yourself this year.
The girl said pleadingly as she held the cake in front of him. Seeing how MC looked at him, Victor blew the candle before ruffling the girl’s hair.
Victor: Dummy. Stop worrying about my birthday wish. Put the cake down and let’s eat.
MC: Meanie. It took me ages to fix my hair for today. But wait… did you wish for anything? You blew the candle so fast.
Victor: There’s no need. It has already been granted a long time ago.
I never wished for anything before. Victor silently thought as he looked at the girl who he knew wanted to know his wish.
What could he wish for when she is already in front of him and by his side.
He only wishes that his happiness and love will always be by his side in this lifetime. There is nothing more he would wish for.
Engraved Within Memory (MLQC Lucien - NSFW Headcanons)
Game: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice
Pairing: Lucien/Female Reader
Rated: NSFW/18+
Warning Tags: vaginal fingering and sex, abandonment play, orgasm denial, mild bondage, situation manipulation, passing mentions of main story chapter 9
Summary: Delve into and discover some of the Professor’s not-so secret kinks.
Author’s Notes: Oooh okay! We're doing kink exercises for our favorite, hot Professor. Thank you for asking for this! He makes me fan my face every second he makes me sit through that incinerating, BDE presence on screen. 🥴 I don’t think there’s much out there that fazes this man and even less he might dislike, if at all. He’d be willing and very much up (BLESS HIM) for all manners of (depraved) play, were you to consent. Lucien’s pleasure greatly pivots on witnessing his partner’s reactions to what he does to them within the bedroom/otherwise; these head-canons tackle that visual-centric angle to his arousal, which I hope you’ll enjoy reading! 😉✨
(You will never know how) Lucien takes a certain degree of delight in being able to witness you caught unawares. He's often a step several ahead of you.
You might inform him you'd be swinging by his office and when you do, stood in front of his door. Hand poised to knock upon polished wood before you feel his presence close behind and then that gentle, low baritone as it warms his welcome of you. A genuine smile and two cups of coffee - still steaming, in their holders - ready for you.
That first look of startled surprise and a mouth mimicking that expression; shaped into a silly O. Before it rapidly relaxes into joy and a smile so wide, it jostles him a little, how you manage to express such ready happiness, every single time without fail.
Truly, he never tires of it, the myriad of your reactions. Some of the best ones always earned in that swift moment in between oblivion and realization.
That space in between fleeting uncertainty and then familiarity, to know who exactly is approaching her. Lucien does derive satisfaction from that feeling of watching your mild disconcertion surface, then scatter at his often calculated probing. A sign of your trust.
He isn't unpleasant about it nor is it his intent to frighten you. The man wouldn't take any pleasure in truly distressing you - it is not your discomfort he seeks after all, rather your adoration he finds comfort in.
And if you agree to let him, he is willing to show you how very rewarding your act of trust can be.
One who's never sparing with his encouragement and guidance, the Professor's asking you if you're feeling alright, if everything's good for you. Even as long fingers slip to tie your hands with soft silks, your eyes covered with cloth, just as exquisite.
Working you into a position of kneeling, center and upright, upon the bed.
"You're doing so well, agápi̱ mou." He makes sure to praise. Makes sure you hear him, mouth moving right against your earlobe. Lips parting to worry the flesh in soft strokes before he withdraws.
His eyes are on you, breathing in and observing all. Just as they often are, when he takes the time to relish the sight of you waiting for him, restless fingers moving to tuck stray locks of hair behind your ear or smoothing your outfit for your date. Right before he moves to join you.
He lets himself join you now, tapered digits working themselves into the gap in between folded thighs to trace a vertical pattern across your already damp panties and you inhale in a startled gasp; sharp and beautiful. Better than when you are actually able to watch him and confirm his presence immediately.
He observes the tensing of muscles, the fine tremble of flesh; to be unaware of how he might touch you next. Awaiting, bated breaths.
He can feel that pleased smile, not as gentle - hardly gentle - as you see it often, against lips he presses into your cheek.
Taking a few moments to confirm your comfort and consent still. Pulling that cheek into a nibbling bite in praise when you nod your head, breathless with your foreign experience.
Fingers just as careful, curling into the space of your legs, but this time, he lets them slip right underneath your soaked underwear to touch, direct and warm.
Watching you break into a stilted shiver, as if you weren't quite prepared for the way those long digits gather speed, pulsing into your drenched pussy - in and out - hurtling you closer to an orgasm… before he stops. And withdraws.
Watches you struggle to complain against the cruelty of it all, teeth sinking bitter into lower lip. Voice trembling on the single sound of his name.
He instructs you to stay still for him, that it's alright and to not worry about the copious fluid that drenches your thighs to drip in between them and on to the sheets.
He'll touch you once more, if he so pleases. And if you're good.
He might continue in that manner, torturous. Pleasurable when he decides you've been waiting long enough. Unhurried mouth and tongue moving across each inch of exposed flesh as if he'd never left, fingers back to sliding within your pussy.
Before withdrawing.
Lucien might decide to tug at that leash just that little bit, might make you believe he leaves the room and you, for extended periods of time - he never does, he stays right by you - just to see that anxiety heighten and flourish. Seeking him. Thighs rubbing in rising need of friction.
Unabated joy leaving on moans and gasps of his name when he rewards you, your pleas of him to not leave and continue this time. All the way through.
He could drag his little pleasure charade for hours on end, letting his own arousal go untouched; the tight fit of his trousers turning unbearable, just to feast on that sight of you, so in need of him. Or if you ask him to release you, using the protective net of your set and agreed boundaries, your safety word.
It isn't something he might ask you to indulge in on the regular - after all, he does take great pleasure in witnessing your enjoyment as well, when you're both unbound and touching each other.
… Unless you ask him to.
Help him preserve that color of yours, help him stain you onto an eternity within his mind and upon the glossed surface of photographs.
The man needs to have your memories together, as tokens and souvenirs, to look back on to. Very fond of capturing you within the lens of his camera, as observed in multiple karmas of his.
Tying in to that need to watch and carefully tuck in each precious expression on his butterfly; whether it be her joy or irritation, tears or her satisfaction, Lucien lives for each and every single facet of your color spilling into his life.
His life's monotone; continuous throughout his years whether it be in forgettable encounters, or the wash of monochrome across his world since receiving his Evol.
The tragedies of times past, of nights stained with biting rain and reeking of blood and loss, seem distant now, a flitting ghost of pain. Nothing had truly captured his thoughts before you.
And after you—
He wishes to not miss a single moment, every single memory he'd like to imprint within for all the times he cannot.
Traces of you he keeps tucked; within his wallet. A small photograph secreted into the inner pocket of his lab coat. Pictures adorned within frames, on your suggestion - his shelves seem much more bright now.
More private, treasured images he keeps developed and safe-guarded.
Appreciating every bit of help you can provide in increasing his collection of shots.
Spread upon their bed, just as the scatter of her hair across the covers. Leg thrown wide and open to let him witness glistening folds in between as she works her delicate fingers in circular motions.
The dark perk of pebbled nipples, ripe. Tears staining flushed cheeks in her overwhelming arousal when he’s inside her, fingers of a hand splaying across her lower abdomen as if those seeking digits could feel for him settled deep in between her legs.
Lucien's arousal strains to life once more at the thought of her slick, along the length of him, her taste on an insatiable tongue. The rise of her hips, the back of her ass, visible through the lens of the camera as it clicks shut.
And when she requests to model; eyes wide, just as those plump, slick lips around the girth of his cock. Angling that coy look his way as she lets him go with a tiny pop of a sound, laying a kiss upon the tip of him, to the click of a shutter hiding a satisfied smile.
Here's a short headcanon on Victor which I had in my notes a few months ago. Victor's sarcasm always makes me laugh because I can relate to it to a certain extent.
This was partially based on true events😉
Victor x reader (You)
WC: 444
Beta: @playheej, @litteidiot
Warning: Pure sweetness to entice your heart!❤️
Enjoy!
Both of you were watching MasterChef — a show that both of you have come to love. Of course, the first time you made him watch, Victor was all: “It’s a waste of time. If you didn't pay attention to this much nonsense, you could've accomplished something good by now. Like finishing that report, which is due tomorrow."
After much playful banter and coaxing from you, he finally caved in and it has since become a tradition to watch together; evidently because the show revolves around food and your darling husband is the best cook in the world (even if you don’t directly praise him,,, it’s not like he doesn’t know, in fact he mercilessly teases you about it).
You definitely love that show, not only because of the delicious food which leaves you always getting pampered with more desserts from Victor (even though he refuses at first,, not that some cajoling wouldn’t help) but also because you enjoy watching him trash the contestants for their ‘uncalled’ decisions.
“Is he stupid? How does he think it’s going to set in 8 minutes? Even with a blast chiller it’s impossible; it’s a mousse for god’s sake”.
Contestant in the show: “...and I ran to the chiller and got out the mousse. Ughhh, it hasn’t set yet. I’m devastated...!”
Victor: “You think.”（；¬＿¬)
It’s nice watching the spectacle before you, especially when you’re not the victim of his effortless sarcastic remarks.
The sad part came — the contestant eliminated today was Jess. Her kindness magnetized everyone and they all had such a close bond together — all the other contestants started sobbing.
Your eyes start glistening a little too and you try to stop it; you avoid eye contact with Victor knowing full well how he’d react — but it was too late.
“Dummy, are you crying” followed by a deep silky chuckle.
Oh shit.
“Well..so what if I am!?...She was good!”, you avoid Victor’s gaze and try leaving the living room to your huge bathroom.
Victor stops you by grabbing your hand and forces you to face him.
“Look at me.”
“No! I know you’re going to mock me”
He pulls you down and hugs you from behind.
“Look at me.”
“What!” ಠಗಠ
“Dummy, you know she’s good, yes it’s sad but this will be the stepping stone towards her success…
“Hmm...I know,” you smile while kissing his jaw.
“The pudding must’ve been cooled already ,” Victor eyed you with a kittenish look.
(ෆ’∀’ෆ)
As the both of you head into the kitchen to savour the creamy caramel pudding, Victor thought to himself that life would be dull without his dummy.
Tags: Edging, a little bit of degrading, impact play, use of restraints, fingering, vaginal sex, masturbation, thigh riding.
Feel free to request, my lubs. <3
*After much begging, Victor finally agrees to let you “dominate” him.*
*So I wanted to try my hand at writing a female dominatrix, but I had a really hard time since I’m nowhere near to having a dominating personality.*
~Part 2 coming soon~
𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱
~*~*~*~
You knew what he was thinking. He probably thinks there’s no way you could pull it off. That you’re not someone who could dominate. You could only let yourself be dominated…by him.
But no. And now, on the night of your birthday, after many unsuccessful tries, he finally agrees. He finally lets you ‘have your way with him,’ as he put it.
But you could see that sly smirk on his face. His eyes that said ‘don’t worry, you won’t last long. You’ll be begging for me to fuck you by the end of the night.’ It irked you to your very core. He didn’t take you seriously. But that’s gonna change. Tonight.
“Let’s see what you have in store for me, darling,” he chuckled, peering at your face smugly as your leaned over to wrap the leather cuffs around his hands and latch them onto the chains connected to the bed posts. “Don’t go easy on me now, love.”
You look down at him, scoffing, then moved on to his ankles.
There’s no ‘probably’ about it. He for sure thinks you can’t pull it off. He probably thinks that he’d get away with a few measly slaps before you finally let him release inside you, but no. Your determination is endless and your imagination is wild. You don’t plan on stopping until he’s descended into nothing more than a broken, whimpering mess; aching for release, begging to shoot his load in your pussy.
“And…one final touch,” you whispered, nibbling at his ear before slipping the blindfold over his eyes. “Sucks you won’t see how much I’m going to enjoy this. But you’ll definitely feel it.”
Your hand trailed down his abdomen, your other hand caressing a gentle thumb against his bottom lip. You cupped his member, palming it causing his face to grimace slightly, but he held it in. You pressed it harder, eliciting a growl from him.
He could feel your breaths against his lips and the slightest brush of your lips against his, but that was it. He wanted to lift his head to claim those beautiful lips of yours, but he’s not going to let you win. After all, to him, this will be over soon. He knows…or does he…that you’d give in and let him plow into you like he always does. And you’ll writhe beneath him, like you always do.
You dragged your tongue across his lip, then down to his jaw, then to his neck, to his chest, sucking and nipping at his nipples. His face contorted in a slight grimace once more, but it wasn’t the least bit satisfying to you. You wanted to hear him. But he was holding them in.
Scowling, you got off of him and grabbed what he usually used on you, waving it around so he could hear it whish through the air.
“Do you know what I’m holding, love?” You giggled, twirling it in your hand.
“How am I supposed to know? I’m blindfolded, remem-“
Without warning, your swung it down, cutting through the air before landing on his nipple with a loud ‘slap.’ The chains rattled as he squirmed against the impact, his words cut off by his throaty, subdued, groan.
“Guess,” you said, your voice laced with irritation at his tone.
His face turned to your direction; his mouth angled at a vengeful frown.
“The crop.”
You brought the crop down again, this time on the other nipple, causing his whole body to flinch once more.
“Good. Don’t forget whose hand it’s in now, got it?”
“Yes…”
You brought it down again, this time not really aiming for his nipples, but at other parts of his torso. He growled again; his fingers gripping tightly against the chains, trying to hold on to whatever control he thinks he has.
“Yes what, pet?”
“Yes…m-master.” He struggled to get it out, his face red with embarrassment.
“Good boy,” you cooed, dragging the crop down his torso, to the hardening bulge between his legs. “Look at you. You get off on this, don’t you? And here I thought I would have a hard time getting you…hard. But it seems like I had nothing to worry about.”
You crawled over him, straddling him as you pressed your core against his bulge, grinding.
“Looks like my little pet is quite the pervert, hm?” You knew he could hear the smirk in your voice as you leaned down to whisper to him. “You’re so hard already. I want you inside me, Victor.”
You could feel him squirming beneath you, itching to fuck you senselessly. But that’s not how it’s going to work tonight. You don’t plan on giving in. The only way he’s going to cum inside you is if he begged well enough.
“Look at you,” you whispered, pressing your body against his; your tongue trailing up his neck. “Seeing you like this…makes me so…wet.”
Your hand slid down his body as you rubbed your core against him, before pushing your underwear aside, slipping a finger inside your wet cunt.
“Mmm.” You could see the unmistakable twitch of his clenched jaw as you let your head nuzzle against the crook of his neck, moaning as your fingers plunged deep inside you.
He knew what you were doing. With every thrust of your fingers, he could feel the back of your hand rubbing against him. With every single movement, he could feel your breast squished against his chest.
It killed him, and you knew, to have you so damn fucking close, but be unable to touch you with his hands. To be unable to grip onto to the plumpness of your body.
He expected a couple slaps, yes. He expected a couple denials…edgings…yeah…But he certainly did not expect you to finger yourself right in front…no…right on top of him.
You could feel his dick twitch with every slight contact. You could see his grip on the chains harden with every single moan that left your lips.
You pulled your fingers out, the sound of your wetness evident as you did, and held it up to his mouth, swiping at his lips.
“Suck.”
Slowly, sensually, you watched him lick it off his lips, then proceed to suck on your fingers, his tongue expertly navigating its way around and between your fingers, not missing a single spot.
The warmth of his mouth sent pleasure coursing throughout your body, and for a second, you contemplated whether you should just unchain him, right now, so he could fuck you.
But no, you remembered how long it took to get him to agree to this. It would be a waste not to savor every bit of the moment he was in your control, and every bit of his agonizing need for you.
You slipped your fingers out with a ‘pop’ before stepping off the bed, ridding yourself of your underwear, the last of the clothing that covered you.
You pulled his boxers down, only to quickly realized that you wouldn’t be able to pull it off his chained legs. So, keeping in mind all the underwear he’s ruined by ripping them off, you grabbed a pair of scissors.
He flinched at the coldness of the steel as you slid it underneath his boxer briefs, snipping at the bothersome cloth.
“I liked those,” he stated plainly, you could practically see him rolling his eyes behind the blindfold.
You pressed a soft kiss against his still clothed bulge, watching him squirm at the gesture.
“Oh, would you like to keep them on then?”
“No.”
“I thought so,” you chuckled, his cock sprang free just as you cut the last piece of cloth holding it down, but you didn’t touch him just yet.
You shifted your position, your hands planted on his chest as you straddled his thick muscular thigh. Reaching down, you spread your pussy lips apart, then pressed it down on his bare thigh, grinding, allowing him to feel your wetness.
His leg flinched, trying to meet the grinding of your hips, but was quickly reminded of his restraints. He took a deep, frustrated breath; his brows furrowed as he let his leg fall back down on the bed, and remain there motionless.
You reach down, playing with his balls, before attempting, but failing, to wrap your hand around his full girth; his pre-cum leaking from his tip only to drip down to your hand.
He sighed at the long-awaited contact, relishing in your hand stroking him as you rode his thigh. Soon after, the movement of your hips built up to a wild rhythm, your hand falling in sync as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your climax.
The sound of your moans…The loud fapping as your hand gripped at his cock, mercilessly stroking him…Your trembling hand holding tightly on to his shoulder as you rubbed that sopping wet cunt on his thigh. It all drove him fucking mad.
He wanted to fuck you. God, he wanted to fuck you so bad.
He was close. You could hear it in his heaving breaths. You could see it in the way his muscles bulged, pulling on the restraints above his head. You could feel it in the way his balls tightened. And right when you knew he was about to cum…you stopped.
He yanked on the restraints, obviously peeved at the fact you edged him.
Instead, you ground yourself harder against him. Grinding faster and faster, feeling that familiar pressure build up in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter, until finally, it snapped.
You fell onto his chest, your chest pushing against him as you heaved. Your hot breaths tickled his neck as your body trembled against his.
Usually, he’d love the feeling of your trembling, orgasming body against his…usually. But right now, he just wanted to touch you. He turned his head towards you, feeling your sweaty forehead against his cheek, trying to initiate some form of his own contact with you. He wanted to touch you.
“Enough,” he mumbled, nuzzling his cheek against your forehead. “You win. I give up.”
You nuzzled against him even more, your eyes drifting down to his dick, contemplating whether you accept his surrender.
“Aww, I wanted to edge you even more,” you muttered, your fingers mindlessly tracing circles around his nipple.
Not gonna lie…you wanted to see him cry and beg for you to let him cum, like you sometimes did…but…you knew how hard it must’ve been for him to utter just those five words.
We’ll take it little by little.
“I want to touch you, y/n…” his face turned away from you, glad that the blindfold kept you from seeing too much of his red face as he muttered the one word you never thought he’d say. “…please.”
You couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips as you pushed yourself off of him.
“Reaaallllly?” you asked, happiness clearly evident in your voice as you squeezed his face between your hands, squishing his cheeks.
He yanked his face out of your grasp, his brow furrowing in annoyance as he clicked his tongue.
“Idiot,” he scoffed, rubbing his thigh against yours the best he could with the restraints. “I always want to touch you.”
Your eyes widened a bit, seeing that flustered look on his face. Without thinking, you reached up, pulling the blindfold off of his eyes. He took in every inch of your body, every line and every curve. No matter how many times he’s seen it, it amazes him every single time.
“You’re trying to soften me up so I would untie you, aren’t you?” you mumbled, leaning in as your eyes bore intently into his; your lips just barely touching. “You sly dog.”
“Untie me.”
His eyes gazed into yours with the same ferocity, his breath tickling your lips as he spoke.
“So I can fuck you.”
He lifted his head, suddenly claiming your mouth with his; the ferocity in his eyes, now present in his kiss as he pushed his tongue in.
You wanted to pull away, but you couldn’t. Your body betrayed the dominatrix act you were trying to pull.
Fuck it.
You felt your hand sliding up his bulging arms, reaching for the restraint. It’s fine. You won already anyways. He said please…that’s technically begging…right? At least that’s what you told yourself.
Your hand stopped suddenly, a slight growl reverberating from his throat as you did. His eyes narrowed at you, as he nipped at your lip.
“You want to fuck me?” you grinned, pulling away from him. “You don’t need to be untied to fuck me.”
You lifted your hips, reaching down to guide his member to your entrance. He gripped on the chains; his head thrown back as you slid the tip in. You leaned forward, kissing and sucking at his exposed neck as you brought yourself down, painstaking slow, feeling your walls stretching to every inch of his large cock.
His throat vibrated beneath your lips, as an elongated “fuck” sounded from his lips.
You whimpered, finally taking in all of him…You could feel him throbbing inside you and it drove you crazy. You lifted yourself up, promptly slamming yourself back down to elicit another groan from both of you. You leaned back, hands on his knees, watching him struggling, yanking against the chains holding his hands back.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. There you were. In front of him. Your breast fucking bouncing along with you. Your fucking voice moaning out his name. Your pussy stretching around his cock as he watched it slide in and out of you. But that’s it. That’s all he could do. Just watch and yank at the damn chains.
“F-Fuck…V-Victor…Victor…” Your eyes looked at him, half-lidded, relishing in how he struggled to hold himself together. That clenched jaw can only hold in so much.
You shifted your hands onto his shoulder, gripping as you brought yourself down faster and harder, chasing another release, but you could feel your legs reaching their limit. But you could tell that he was reaching his limit as well.
With your last bit of energy, you milked his cock as hard as you can, his head thrown back again as grunts and groans fell, unconstrained, from his lips. You brought your hips down, legs trembling, one final time, just as he was about to come…and pulled out.
He let out a loud frustrated groan as you leaned forward, resting your head on his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.
“Fuck, y/n,” he grumbled, pressing his face against your neck, inhaling deeply, trying to stabilize his rapid breaths. “I said I give up, y/n. You win. You win! Just…Just…untie me already. Come on, y/n. Please. I even said please.”
There was a slight crack in his voice…and a big crack in his ego as he mumbled those words to you, his nose nuzzling against the crook of your neck.
You laughed, placing a firm kiss on his lips, nibbling a bit before you pulled back to look at him.
“Okay.”
The look in his eyes as the word left your lips said only one thing: I’m going to destroy that pussy.
Author's note: Thank you to@oc-growth-and-development for the challenge, I think this will be pretty interesting, as it got my creative juices already stirring (you can find their amazing blog and challenge here).All my stories for this challenge will feature my OC Andrea Jones and Victor Li, from the MLQC fandom.
His leg had been hurting for days. Not that he would tell me.
VIctor’s recovery from the accident had been truly remarkable, like everything about him. He was a proud man, and the idea of having someone taking care of him was horrid to him, so he pushed through the injury and the exhaustion, and he didn’t stop until he felt confident enough to move around on his own and drive to work himself.
A fast recovery comes with a price, though. The body needs time to heal, tendons need time to mend, and Victor hadn’t given himself any. As a consequence, every time he was more stressed, or the weather changed, or he outdid himself in one of his running sessions, his leg would throb in fury, lamenting the punishment it had received.
During those days, he wouldn’t let me near him, let alone admit he wasn’t feeling well. Victor would enclose himself inside his walls, insisting on dealing with the pain on his own, snapping at me if I even mentioned it. So I would just observe him closely, secretly taking action so his day would be easier, hoping the pain wasn’t getting the best of him.
Until one night, after putting Owen to bed, I found him sitting on the ottoman of our walk-in closet, half-naked, his hands pressing on his left thigh.
“This is ridiculous.” I scolded, kneeling in front of him to massage him. “Are you really that stubborn that you can’t ask for help?”
His lack of a snarky comeback made me take a closer look at him. He looked pale and clammy, and when he looked at me, I could see an unbearable pain in his eyes. Victor hadn’t only reached his tipping point. He had surpassed his pain threshold a while ago, without me noticing it.
“Ok, we need to get you to bed.” I took his arm and wrapped it around my neck. “I’ll support some of your weight, do you think you can walk that far?”
His expression showed me a steely resolve as he nodded. Even feeling like he couldn’t give another step, he lifted himself with his right leg, trying to balance himself not to weigh too much on me. When I sat him on the bed, he was panting.
“I’ll be right back.” I ran my fingers through his hair, leaving the room.
When I came back, holding a pill and a glass of water, he hadn’t moved an inch. His eyes were closed again, his breath still a bit fast. It was probably worse than I could tell.
“Take this.” I showed him the pill and the water.
“Can’t you just massage it?” He gave me a pleading look. “The muscle relaxants make me drowsy.”
I internally cringed at the tone of his voice, which reminded me so much of our five-year-old son. Victor looked nothing like the strong man he presented himself to be, strong and confident, able to excel at everything. At that moment, he was a scared little boy in pain, craving comfort. It made me wonder if he was like that when he was little, and if he had someone to rely on when he was sick. Probably Mina or Terry.
“You’re going to bed anyway, what’s the difference? You’ll get a good night’s sleep, you surely can use one.” I pushed the glass of water towards him, but he ignored it. “Come on, the pain won’t go away with just a massage, you let it go too far.”
It was the oldest trick in the book, guilting him into doing something, and I hated to do it. But the thought that his own action (or lack of it) had led them to a point of needing me was enough to make him more complacent, taking the pill from my hand and swallowing it with a big gulp of water.
“Good.” I smiled at him. “Now lay down, let me give you a good rub.”
He obeyed in silence, lifting his thighs from the mattress so I could remove his pajamas slacks, waiting patiently for me to start. At the first pressure, he couldn’t help but let out a pained cry, making me remove my hands immediately. His leg was hot, there was surely inflammation in the tissue. Maybe a massage wouldn’t solve it.
“I’m sorry.” He croaked. “Please go on.”
“Victor...Maybe we should go to a hospital.”
“No, no hospital.” He shook his head. “I’m really not that bad, you can continue.”
I started reapplying pressure, grimacing every time I felt him tense up in my hands, covering his mouth with the tip of the pillow to muffle his complaints. After a while, he started relaxing, and the sounds stopped. The massage was working, but most importantly, the muscle relaxant was starting to work. I took the chance to massage him deeper, trying to discover any knots in his tendons, hoping I would be thorough enough to prevent it from hurting again.
“I’m sorry you have to do this.”
I looked up, noticing his glassy unfocused eyes. He was high. All his emotions were on display now. I stopped the massage and quickly went to wash my hands, wanting to milk that rare moment as much as possible.
“You should get some rest.” He slurred slightly. “You must be tired from taking care of me.”
“I don’t mind at all.” I laid beside him and started playing with his hair. “I like taking care of you. You do such a good job taking care of me, it’s good to retribute.”
I smiled as my husband closed his eyes in delight, leaning his head a little closer like a sleepy kitten. I started softly scratching his scalp, knowing he secretly loved it.
“Hmmmm…” He tilted his head so my hand would go where he wanted it to be. “That feels good.”
“We could have more moments like this, Vic.” I tried my luck. “Everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes. You don’t need to wait to be in searing pain to ask for it.”
He opened his eyes to look at me but didn’t say a word. The sadness in them made me reconsider my actions. Victor had a hurt little boy inside him, and hurt little boys don’t need to talk, or to figure out their emotions. They need to be hugged. They need to be loved.
“Do you want to sleep naked or should I put on your pajamas?”
“I won’t be cold if you sleep close to me.”
Without a word, I climbed into the bed and pulled the thick comforter over us, leaning against his right side. I kept on playing with his hair, planting kisses here and there, as I watched him grow more and more relaxed, until he fell asleep.
I took a moment to look at the man I loved before I turned off the light, hoping I had done more than help him with his leg pain. Maybe I helped soothe the little boy that needed comfort and was too afraid to ask for it. Maybe I helped the adult see that it was ok for him to let his guard down and trust someone once in a while. Anyway, I was happy to watch him sleep, perfectly unaware of the world around him, soft snores coming from his parted lips.
There are certain scars that only love would heal. Victor deserved all the love in the world. I would give it to him.
Falling Hard (Before Reaching for the Stars) - Gavin
Author’s note: this is written for the lovely @birdcopsfangirlsblog for her even lovelier request. The prompts being “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”, “Can I kiss you?”, and ‘Kissing on sofa, foreheads pressed together, breathy, soft tender’. I really enjoyed writing this one, thank you Carla!
Also I would like to extend a great thank you to Gavin’s cult leader, @beautiful-mystic-mess and @playheej, your Gavin knowledge is unmatchable and really helped me personalize this to character.
Summary: Feelings come to fruition late one night, when Gavin finds himself in a vulnerable position
Warnings: general spoilers to Gavin’s plot in the early game
Word count: 1407
Masterlist
Gavin was tired.
It was the time of night where the bustling of the city quieted down except for the sounds of a basketball pounding on pavement. Gavin had been done with work for hours and subconsciously on his way home, he flew up to her balcony and slid the door open to join her on her small couch.
She welcomed him in with a soft smile and reached over to the side table to grab the box of chocolates she had sitting next to her, holding it out to Gavin as a silent offer. Based on the amount of chocolates missing, Gavin knew she had been editing for hours - far longer than she should be. He quietly took a chocolate and opened the coffee table’s drawer to grab one of the comic books she had stashed there for him when Gavin kept her company during her late nights editing.
He knew not to bother her, it’d only cause her to lose her concentration and that’s the last thing he wanted to happen. The more she concentrated, the faster she’d be able to finish and take care of herself but until then, Gavin was more than happy to take care of her.
After he finished the comic, Gavin took himself to the kitchen and made two sandwiches, one for himself and one for the overworked girl on the couch. She looked up when he reentered and flashed him a smile, one that went straight to Gavin’s heart and permanently embedded itself there.
“Want to take a break and eat something?” He handed her the plate and she glanced wistfully at her computer screen once more before closing it and gratefully accepting the sandwich. “What are you working on tonight?”
“It’s another interview with Mr. Noah from Lynn’s Kitchen, talking about how much the letter board has blossomed since our last episode about it.” She said around a mouthful of the peanut butter and jelly. “He talks about his wife with so much love and I want to edit it to show that but it’s hard fitting it in the time frame available.”
Gavin chewed his sandwich thoughtfully for a moment. “Would you rather focus on the love he has for her, or the bulletin board?”
“Love is what made the board flourish.” She replied, picking the sandwich crust off the other half. “Without it, there’d be nothing.”
Gavin’s heart fluttered at that. Even though she wasn’t talking about his friendship with her, those words resonated in his heart, right next to that bright smile she gave him earlier. High school is where his feelings for her began, she rescued him that day he fell and she didn’t even notice. From that day forward, it’s like he saw her in a new light; her bright smile always made him feel like he could touch the brightest star in the sky and it would leave Gavin aching for another glance of it. Then he left school, he didn’t think he’d ever see her again.
Seeing her in the police department that day was a literal dream come true. He spent time building her trust, listening to her every thought, and learning about how her brain worked. Through that time, they grew into a comfortable friendship but every time he saw her smile, it was like he was back in high school watching her play piano from a window.
He loved her back then, but their slow friendship made that love flourish into something even brighter than the sun.
“Have you ever experienced a love like that?” Gavin asked her once he had finished his sandwich. His hands were clammy and he set the paper plate on the coffee table before wiping the sweat on his jeans. “One where it just makes it seem like the world is a little more kinder?”
“I’m not sure I’ve had a romantic one reciprocated, but I’ve definitely felt that way with some friendships.” She answered, setting her paper plate on top of his. “What about you?”
“I’d like to think so, but I’m not sure.”
A beat, and then her head tilted in the way it always did when she was curious about something. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”
Gavin laughed at that. “You think anyone would kiss me? In high school, everyone was scared of me. Now, the only girl I hang out with is you.” Silence hung between them. “Have you?” Gavin wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her answer. If she had kissed Kiro, Victor, Lucien, or even - God forbid - Minor, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle knowing that. It could leave an empty hole in his heart.
But she shook her head no, and Gavin felt that maybe, just maybe… they could be each other’s first kiss.
Instead of either of them making a move, she cleared her throat and placed her laptop on her lap and once again got back to editing. Gavin reclined back on the couch and closed his eyes, the soft sound of her breathing and fingers tapping on the keyboard lulling him into a deep sleep.
Gavin awoke with a start, his eyes unfocused and his heartbeat pounding fast.
“Gavin, hey, it’s okay.” Her soft voice calmed him and he reached out to her, his fingers grazing her cheek. Her hand caught his own and pressed it to her cheek, holding it there. “It’s me. It’s just me, you’re okay.” Gavin rubbed his bleary eyes with his free hand and took a deep breath. She held tighter to his hand, like a lifeline to the real world for him. Without thinking, Gavin swept her into his arms, hugging her tightly to his chest. “Are you okay?” She asked, her arms wrapping around his middle and rubbing comforting circles.
“I am now,” Gavin admitted. She knew about his nightmares, how he relived the fire in his sleep. She knew, but she wouldn’t bring it up unless he did first. “Thank you.” She pulled back slightly, and Gavin released his tight hold on her but not quite letting go. His eyes had adjusted to the dark and he looked deeply into her eyes, full of concern and something else he couldn’t quite place. He would almost call it love.
“Gavin…” she trailed off, her eyes never leaving his own.
“Can I kiss you?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he thought better of it and he tore his eyes from hers, looking down embarrassedly.
Instead of releasing her hold on him, her arms tightened and when he looked back to her, their noses brushed. Gavin leaned his forehead against her own and without saying anything, their lips brushed. Gavin wasn’t sure who closed the last few inches, and he couldn’t even bother thinking about that. Not when he was holding the girl he loved and kissing her like he needed it more than air.
Their lips broke from one another, but their foreheads were still tightly pressed together. Gavin was panting, and he could feel her breath coming out in heavy puffs as well. Gavin reached up to brush a piece of her hair behind her ear and she leaned into his hand.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his breath fanning over her face. She closed her eyes and turned her head to kiss the palm of his hand. “Everything about you is. Your heart, your soul, they shine to me.”
“You’re the reason the world seems a little more kind.” She admitted. Gavin’s heart swelled, the space that she occupied grew a little bigger.
“Are you done working for the night?” Gavin asked, pulling his hand away and glancing at her laptop. She nodded and he stood up, extending his hand to the girl who was still kneeling on the floor. She accepted his hand and he led her to her bedroom.
He’d been in there millions of times before but it felt more intimate this time, like a sacred place that he wasn’t supposed to be in. Kissing her once on the forehead, he tucked her blankets around her, smiling at her as she sleepily bid him goodbye.
Gavin left her apartment the same way he entered that night. When he came in he felt bogged down with a hard day's work on his shoulder. But leaving, he felt so light that he could touch the stars. Jumping off the balcony, that’s what he did; he reached for the stars.
This is just a 3am rant but I wanna say that I used to be that fanfic reader who will like a post instead of reblogging it until one day, I came across a post about how the writer community is dying because of this. I mean, I do write myself but they were all mostly random scenarios that I have in my head so I didn’t really care much about exposure, but that post; it was like a wake-up call to me and since then, I’ve tried my best to reblog and express my appreciation either in sentence or tag forms because I truly admire all these talented, amazing writers && I just want y’all to know that. Without you, my fandom world (exo, got7, nct & mlqc) wouldn’t be as colourful as it is, you provided creative contents that really added value to my life as a fan and I can’t thank you enough for that 🥺🥺
