#I adore my habibti

[softquietsteadylove]

Instead of Thena, what about jelous and territorial Gil 👀?

Gil was glowering--he knew he was. He was standing outside the studio, two coffees stacked on top of each other in one hand, glaring through the glass.

Thena was dancing already, free as the wind and laughing and twirling. She looked stunning, as always. She was spinning around with some guy with dark hair and a cut jawline in a black leotard. He followed Thena around the room, talking and laughing freely all while holding her hands, and lifting her by the waist, and...

Gil watched as Thena literally threw her head back in such a full laugh. She only ever did that with him--at least so she said. And so Sersi said. Gil pushed the door open.

Even more infuriating, her dance partner looked up and over at him first, "Habibti, your-"

"Gil!"

Gil kept his eyes on the stranger as he set the coffees down first and dropped his bag off his shoulder. Thena fluttered over to him but he kept staring at this...this guy.

He had heard Habibti before, and he was pretty sure it was what one would call their sweetheart.

"Thank you," Thena smiled up at him from within his arms, finally pulling his eyes away from her friend. "You are just in time."

"Am I?" Gil murmured, still looking between Thena and this mystery dancer, not loosening his embrace of her even in the slightest. "I, uh, didn't know you had a guest."

"Ben Stoss," he moved forward, introducing himself with a handshake. He smiled at Gil in a way that emphasized how handsome he was (unfortunately). "Thena and I were always paired together as partners in our days in the academy."

The burning in Gil's chest worsened and he pursed his lips faintly. "I see."

"Ben is going to help me with some demonstrations for my little goslings," Thena said gently, still within the bend of Gil's arm.

Gil just nodded, looking from the handsome stranger down to his precious, gorgeous girlfriend. He mustered a smile for her and pressed a kiss to her temple, "sounds fun."

"I've heard all about you, Gilgamesh."

Gil's head snapped up again, especially at the overly familiar way in which he was being addressed. He subconsciously pulled Thena tighter against him, "Gorgeous here talk about me a lot?"

Ben grinned, "all the time."

"Gil," she admonished faintly, pressing a hand to his chest.

"I never thought I would see the day when Odette here finally found herself someone," Ben looked at Thena, still seeming a little too humoured by the situation. "And such a handsome one, at that."

"That's enough out of you," she glared back at him. But even watching her glare at him didn't help Gil feel better; she was so familiar with him.

"You, uh," Gil's eyes bounced between them one more time, determined to drag things out into the open no matter how rude or uncouth he had to be to do it. His hand twitched at the small of Thena's back, "did you know each other before ballet?"

Thena tilted her head at him but Ben continued to smile and shook his head. "No, but the royal ballet academy's programs can take a lifetime to truly graduate."

Gil's mind was racing. He hadn't seen this guy at any of the performances of Thena's he'd been to.

"We have known each other for many years."

That also did not help him feel better.

Thena rubbed Gil's back between his shoulders, "I've been friends with Ben and his husband for years."

Husband.

Ben turned his attention to Thena, "you are my son's favourite aunt."

Son.

"I am your son's only aunt," she corrected Ben liberally with a grin. She turned back to Gil, a sheepish smile on her lips, "I'm sorry, love, I can't believe I've never brought up Ben before now."

Gil blinked as Ben started complaining to Thena about what a neglectful friend she had been to him, the two of them laughing about it. Gil tried to reorient himself as if he'd taken a swing to the face.

"I have brought up Jack before, though."

"Oh--o-oh, yeah, Jack!" Gil smiled, rushing to cover up his petty jealousy. "Of course you've talked about Jack. You're one of his dads!"

"Indeed I am," Ben smiled graciously, despite Gil's tepid introduction to him. "Thena reached out to me about assisting her with some partner oriented lessons. And I admit, I jumped at the chance to finally meet her handsome boxer beau."

"Stop it!" Thena hissed at him.

But Gil was delighted--his chest was puffed a little bit and he was all but preening at the praise. He grinned at her, "aw, Gorgeous!"

Thena huffed, turning her head so his kiss was relegated to her cheek instead of her lips. She glared at Ben, "did I not say that was enough from you?"

"Thena does speak of you endlessly, that was no flattery on my part," Ben laughed in good humour as Gil continued to try and lavish his mortified girlfriend with affection. "I was excited to meet the man she loves so ardently."

"Lessons are cancelled, both of you--out."

Gil just chuckled, pressing his forehead to hers. Her fingertips tapped against his cheeks, having previously attempted to keep him from kissing her in front of Ben. "I love you too, Thena."

The loveliest shade of pink filled those pale cheeks of hers. She turned her head to Ben, "you are a terrible friend."

"I am the best of friends, and I did tell you this would happen if I got to meet your handsome fighter," Ben simply laughed, drifting off and leaving the two to their affections.

"Ben!" Sersi beamed as she walked in, "it's been ages!"

"Sersi!" he laughed, receiving her in a hug as she ran at him.

Gil sighed as he watched Ben and Sersi catch up, looking back at Thena. "I'm sorry, Gorgeous."

"Hm?"

He kissed her forehead, attributing her ignorance of his jealousy to her lack of past relationships. "I didn't mean to interrupt you and your friend."

"That's fine, Gil," she shook her head, confused as to why he would even apologise for something so small. Her hand found his, their fingers hovering the line of being laced together. "I knew you were coming this morning."

"True," he chuckled as he moved away only to retrieve the coffee he had brought with him.

Thena received the coffee - and his kiss on the cheek - with a pleasant purr. She peeked up at him, "I asked Ben if he'd like to join Sersi and I for a drink after lessons, today. Would you...?"

Gil smiled, thoroughly charmed at the idea of meeting more of the people in Thena's life, "yeah, sweetheart, I'd love to."

"Okay," she swayed a little, the skirt tied around the waist over her leotard fluttering around her. "I'll see you tonight, then."

"Can't wait," Gil whispered, leaning in to kiss her properly this time, his hand holding hers.

"Does Miss Thena have two boyfriends?!"

Sersi and Ben laughed from further away from the door. Gil also laughed while Thena glared at the early students already gawping at them. "No, I do not! Stretches!"

The kids sighed at the fingers snapped at them, "yes, Miss Thena."

They looked at Sersi, but the assistant teacher offered no sympathies. "You know better than to bring up Miss Thena's boyfriend."

Thena offered him a tiny wave as she visibly shifted from Thena to Miss Thena, her teacher mode. Her shoulders rolled back and her spine straightened; although, she did set her coffee down gently and lovingly on the edge of her desk.

Gil waited until he was hanging half-out the studio door before loudly cooing, "see you tonight, Gorgeous!"

"Oooooooohhhhhhhhh!!"

Thena flushed scarlet, turning and snapping her fingers at him as well, which only made him laugh. Ben was laughing too.

[hwaithie]

the withers and woes of my little fawn heart 𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚

“I’m always clinging onto you… and I depend on you quite a bit… don't you find it to be bothersome?” (I’m sorry if my love for you feels harrowing, unbearable, suffocating; I’m sorry the only way I know how to love is like a child.)

al haitham x f!reader ෆ sfw — hurt -> comfort · established relationship · 4k wc · repost from an old blog ﾉ reader is insecure about many things ﾉ haitham calls you habibti + baby + sweetheart ﾉ non - sexual nudity ( ie. you bathe together ) ﾉ selfship coded ^^;

All it takes you is a mere step past the front door for Al Haitham to realise you’re unhappy. 

When it comes as large as a raincloud hanging over the house, your sorrow is difficult to not take note of.

First, there’s a drizzle with the drag of your feet; steps that are normally light and fawn-like and struggling to catch up with his own long strides, a wee bit skittish and much more adorably clumsy than you’d like to admit, are now sluggish. Devoid of their usual urgency and purpose. 

Then, a deluge, as he hears you heave a sigh from beyond the pages of his manuscript. You’re burdened by something, he notices, as you scuff along the hardwood floor, let your bag—and subsequently your heart—tumble to the ground. 

“Welcome home.” Al Haitham rises from the daybed, coming to meet you in the foyer. “How... was work?” 

Something in his tone, the pause in his question and the uncharacteristic apprehension of it makes you want to wither and crumble. Quick as ever is he with his eyes—most especially when it comes to you. 

How you so wish in this moment that weren’t the case.

“Fine!” Your reply is light, “Just, I’m a bit tired… is it okay if we eat leftovers from last night for dinner? I’m really sorry…” When you smile up at him, it doesn’t meet your eyes, nor too do your eyes meet his own.

Lies—you’ve never been all that successful at convincing him of them, due in part to the guilt that you can’t keep hidden from your countenance, as well as the callowness of your voice that seems to render any falsity you utter ring with an air of untruth.

“It’s nothing to apologise for.” He says slowly, standing before you as he awaits the hug you always give him when you arrive home from work, the press of your ear over his heart. You up on the tips of your toes as you ask him for a kiss and to cut up a peach so you might feed them to each other as you sit on the windowsill facing village hills.

You do none of these, and Al Haitham wonders why.

Walking past you, he ruffles your hair and softly scratches your scalp. “Go wash up; I’ll set the table.”

You want to speak, say thank you, though you can find no words, a deep melancholy breaking over you like a hurricane. It terrifies you. But still you lift your head, look past his ear as you smile again to hide all the woe-rapture that festers within.

And this is all it takes for Al Haitham to resolve that he will do something about it.

The tahchin is bitter on your tongue today. 

Grains of rice pebbly between your teeth, chicken tasting far too much of chicken and not the blend of spices it had been marinated in. It’s near unpalatable. 

And just as it is unpalatable, it is a most arduous task to even lift your fork. The weight of your melancholy is clamped to your wrist and jaw—it makes eating all the more difficult than it need be, and a knot at the back of your throat that feeds the taste of bile into your mouth only serves to darken the shadow that your malaise casts over dinner.

How is it: your favourite dish losing its ability to console, its only purpose to be a vessel for sustenance. Yet, even at that, what sustenance does it provide you with when each bite makes you feel as though you might hurl?

“You’re not eating.” Al Haitham observes sharply, glancing at you out the corner of his eye. It’s a serious shortcoming in his mind, obviously, for someone who does so dearly enjoy her meals.

You shrug despondently and sigh, “Suppose I’m just not hungry.”

As much as he may want to, Al Haitham doesn’t push further—his hands hovering over the wires of what appears to be some ticking time bomb before deciding to leave them untouched in fear of what may arise from snipping the wrong one. 

And you’re grateful for it—that he doesn’t ask you what the matter is—and simply hums in acknowledgement before returning to his food.

(His silence casts a harsh stroke upon your heart.)

You’re grateful, truly, you are.

(You hear his voice in your head—‘are you alright, habibti?’, and quickly, you seize a grasp of your heart to stop the bleeding that threatens to reach your eyes.)

Now you’ve gone and worsened the spoil of your appetite.

Resting your fork on the worn wood table, you sigh yet again—this time around a soft wispy thing that does little to soothe the ache of your lungs, and turn your head to regard his profile. 

The relaxed ridge of his brows and the handsome slope of his nose, lidded teal eyes that are always analysing, never idling; he is just as a diamond is. All sharp edges that glimmer and glint, not only in body but also in mind.

Al Haitham is beautiful by way of his nurturing and guiding in a seemingly unorthodox manner. Generous with his intentions no matter how hard he may try to prove otherwise, clever and witty and always five steps ahead and so incredibly attractive in his self-assurance—oh, he is just perfect—as is the ground he walks upon and the air that floats over his head and each word that touches his lips. 

What is he like… winter fields blanketed by the sun and the tips of flower petals after a deluge, bubbles in wine, diamonds, diamonds, all diamonds. He is a brilliant blue diamond in your night sky.

And you, what are you like? 

Puerile at heart and loud with your love. A wee bit foolish and entirely silly, always fumbling and mumbling and messing up in spite of trying your best. 

If Al Haitham is as a diamond is, then perhaps you would best be suited to a pearl—with those little dewy globes resting on your lashes more often than not, a heart smooth to the touch and all the more fragile.

Which, yes, does sound rather precious when worded in such a way, but you can’t help but wonder, if for Al Haitham you are too much. 

Whether your whimsies are too fantastical, and your brain is too often in the clouds and not in your head where it belongs. Or whether the apple-sweet naivety that offers your heart up to anyone who shows you even a modicum of kindness, be it honest or corrupt, is too much of an annoyance to look after. You worry whether your love is too strong for someone like him who has grown so comfortable in his own company, like fire scorching his blood or the waves of the sea crashing along a cliff or the sticky residue of honey on fingertips that just won’t wash off.

These woes slather uncertainty over your spine, and before you can think, you’re already reaching over to clutch at Al Haitham’s sleeve. 

It’s an effort to command his attention, silently, for if you call him by his name instead, you fear the tears may fly out your eyes and the pathetic hiccups out your throat and you’d weep until the end of eternity. That’s how it feels, anyway.

“Yes, habibti?” Al Haitham wipes the corner of his lip with his thumb and lays down his fork just as you’ve done yours. He waits for your voice to fill the heavy air of the dining room, but when he notices the nervous nibble of your lip and the twiddles of your thumb, he sighs, pulls you in closer by the leg of your chair. “You know, you shouldn’t be afraid to tell me if anything’s troubling you. I’ll do my best to help however I can.”

His hand swallows your fist in a comforting embrace, plucking your fingers free one by one so that he can thread his between yours. It’s a challenge to not look his way when he behaves so darling, and in his eyes you see a certain pleading softness swimming round the edges of his pupils. 

It’d be hard to notice to an untrained eye, what with his acts of romance mostly always lacking the entirety of pomp and blare in the world, but you can tell—of course you can.

It holds you spellbound, compels you to give in, and so, you reach your trembling hands past your ribs and take hold of your burgeoning heart, pay little heed to the rose thorns that scrape and scar it as you tug it free of its cavity. Placing the lame organ in front of Al Haitham, you wince at all its clotted ugliness and self-serving insecurity.

“That’s exactly it… I cause a lot of trouble for you, don’t I.”

(Am I too much? Am I too overbearing?)

“I’m always clinging onto you… and I depend on you quite a bit… don’t you find it to be bothersome?”

(I’m sorry if my love for you feels harrowing, unbearable, suffocating; I’m sorry the only way I know how to love is like a child.)

“It’s just—” There’s a fracture in your voice and then a whimper that follows. 

You’re quick to avert your gaze from him and down to the worn wood table, at your grubby plate of food. The words, recited in your head over and over slip away from your tongue and leave it laid with only scribbled thoughts; they float up—up—up… and then your eyes squeeze shut and your fingertips press anxiously into the space between his knuckles and your shoulders shirk in on themselves.

As many a time have you weeped before him—over the loveliness of a perfectly sunny day or a particularly sweet and excellent bite into a zaytun peach, over all things nonsensical and silly and things that one ought not to be weeping at. But in this moment, you feel obliged to hide your tears from him.

You’d rather he didn’t see you cry, at least, not over something like this. 

Not over yourself.

“It’s just, I can’t help but feel as though you’d fare better off with someone more like you—someone more sound in mind and less chaotic at heart, perhaps. I dunno…” You pick idly at your food, the tooth of your fork accidentally sending a grain of rice flying to the floor under the pressure of its touch. How unfortunate. “I don’t know…”

(I wish I were more like you. Maybe then I’d feel like less of a liability at your side.)

In all your days of loving Al Haitham, you’ve only presented your heart to him as a dog would to its human, loyal and eager, but today you’re atoning. It’s near sacrificial—your laments and apologies for being too much, too little, not enough, whatever. 

Your heart waits anxiously before him: sliced down the precise centre, carmine, bleeding, beating.

And for the first time since you’ve come bounding into Al Haitham’s life, his house is silent, though, this silence seems to dislike being broken as he mulls yours words over—save for the sad hymns sung by the wind and the gauche scritches and scratches of your fork atop ceramic.

The tears begin to brim and froth behind your lash-line, like milk on the stove that boils and isn’t being kept a watchful eye over. Yet, even as your vision begins to blur, you know Al Haitham is glancing your way.

He takes your heart into his mouth and cradles it gently within his maw.

“Is this what’s been on your mind? Silly girl.” 

Your lover leans into your space and flicks your forehead gently, coaxing your gaze from your lap to his face. 

“Your heart is rather big.”

(You make it easy to adore you. And I like that. It saves me so much trouble making myself adore someone.)

“You both love and loathe it in equal parts.”

(You will always be so free and blithe, as you will always be naive and afraid. Such is the eternal nature of your heart—it will coddle and weather in its fragility until its last days. Won’t you trust it to me to make sure of? To care for?)

“Yes—you cry too often, and you forgive too easily, and you worry too much about those who aren’t deserving of your care, and you feel guilt too strongly over things you have no control over.”

(You are so precious, so pure, so full of infinite compassion for the world.)

“It’s easy for one’s heart to be trampled over if it’s held in their palms, for the world to see. Just as you hold out yours.”

(To me, your beauty lies heaviest within your fawn heart.)

Al Haitham’s words are veined with ice, and your lips freeze in their subtle pout—one that wobbles on the edge of a dejected frown, “It’s not like I mean for it to—” 

“But don’t you realise that’s why I’m here? Why I’ll continue to be here? To catch your heart before it has a chance to get trampled over, and to tend to it when it does?” The ice crackles through his words and they all break up, as if it were spring again. “Don’t you realise this is what I admire most about you?”

(I love you.)

For a moment, your heart flutters queerly. The veil shrouding your thoughts lifts and you’re left to be shaken and pierced by Al Haitham’s tender tone.

“It sounds as though you wish you were more like me…” Your lover takes the fork from your hand and raises with his fingers your chin, so that you may properly meet his eyes for the first time this evening. “But when we love someone, we love them entirely for themselves, not whatever thing we’ve twisted them into to fit our own image. If that were the case—we’d only be loving the reflection of ourselves we find in them. Is this not what you once told me, sweetheart?”

(I love you, in all your adorably jejune whimsies and nonsensical musings and humble tidings. I love the darling tears that cling to the round of your cheek and your great excitability and childish curiosity—all things I lack. And of all things I love your mad, devout love; so… please, please continue to love me as you do without fear of abandonment.)

Perhaps, after all, it is okay that you are nothing like him and he is nothing like you. That you are diametric antitheses, like earth and air or diamond and pearl. Your eyes falter under his gaze, body rigid in his arms as he manoeuvres you into his lap and presses his palms to your hot cheeks. 

“Please, I…” You weaken and he smiles and then you tremble and soften and melt and the tears finally bubble onto your face just as a white rose slips past its sheath. 

Like a baby, you sob—free of guilt and shame, it’s the only thing you know how to do when you’ve already spoken the words in your mind.

You press a palm to his chest, fingers splayed out over his heart, head tilted down and hair hiding yourself from him. Though, he can still see; and you know he can, even if all that’s in your periphery are clouds and fuzz, wobbly pearls of dew that dribble down your face. He doesn’t ask you to look at him—he already knows why you weep. From catharsis or love or joy or heartache or gratitude… all of them at once or perhaps none of them at all.

“I-I’m really sorry for s-spoiling dinner!” Your voice is stuffy with sniffles and you hiccup in between your words, eyes squeezed shut awfully tight so that your nose crinkles. How sweet.

Al Haitham spares you a smile that twists your heart as he leans in to brush his lips against yours, exchanging breaths. “You haven’t spoiled anything. Now—” With one hand, he holds you by the dip of your waist to press you to his chest and uses the other to gather a bite of fragrant rice on his fork, “You need to eat.”

At the hands of your lover, the tahchin is savoury and full of life on your tongue, nowhere near as nauseating and boorish as earlier. “Isn’t it fascinating, Haitham?” You part your lips to take another bite and shrug your shoulders up to your ears childishly, enjoying the soothing pinpricks travelling along your spine as familiar spices settle on your tongue and flush your entire being with warmth. “How the tahchin tastes so much more delicious now that you’re feeding it to me?”

He watches on in awe as you chew on your food, tiny little hiccups from tears unshed that occasionally rack your chest and fluster you, the ones that have dried coming off your face as gossamer flakes. They’re angel tears, he’s certain of that much. 

“Must you look so cute when you eat?” Your lover takes the fat of your cheeks between his thumb and index finger as you chew, gently squeezing and marvelling at the suppleness of your skin. “I may be tempted to cut dinner short and whisk you to the bedroom… if you will have me show you just how precious you are. ” 

“Stop teasing…” You grasp his wrist gently, swallowing your food and sucking in your cheek to bite down on it bashfully, look the opposite way of prying eyes. They’re lidded and lazy and there’s a smirk that lifts them up at the edges—his eyes—but also his heart. Because you just make him feel like that: organs and limbs loose and relaxed and thumping with a calm pulse, vision framed by a glowy pink haze as though he were laying on marble under the sun by the sea. Everything sweet and wonderful in the world.

“Even after all the moments we’ve shared…” His smirk morphs into a smile, and he pinches your bottom lip to bring you in closer. “You’re still just as shy as though it were our first.”

You can't help but burst into a lovely little peal of giggles as he kisses you and pampers you, your toes dusting over the floor playfully and fingertips curling strands of his hair. Your cheeks are stuffed with warm food and your eyes burn with the crystalline that brims at your lower lashes when you swallow thickly, so you push back the tremble to your voice and bury it under his love stored in bite after bite of tahchin. 

And even after your plate has been emptied and love is about to burst past the seams of your heart and your tummy, and you lay half-asleep atop him in a growing pool of moonlight—even after much of your aches and pains have been put to rest, Al Haitham still has yet to be completely satisfied, awaiting to be placated by one final thing.

“Come, you must be tired,” He ties your hair for you, takes you by your hand, offers to wash the lingering fogs out of your soul. “Why don’t we bathe together before we sleep? I’m sure it’ll soothe your mind.”

Al Haitham’s touch is soft as he strips you of your clothing, kisses downwards of your clavicle after he removes your necklace—your wrist, your rib, your belly, your thigh. He knows just how you like your baths: window propped wide open to waft in the fragrance from blossoming peach trees and the sweet lulls of nightly birdsong, padisarah petals coasting across the water.

He prepares the room for you as such, swathing your frame between his long, broad limbs in the tub, too tiny for two—yet, he finds it to be a simple task to ignore the annoyance of the ledge digging into his spine when your body curls up against him like this, cheek pillowed by the plush of his chest and your arms draped around his waist.

“You like holding me close, sweetheart?” 

It’s a fun little poke at just how tight you cling to him, but truthfully, Al Haitham is all the same. A hand on the small of your back or warm fingers massaging your chilly nape—he finds the utmost comfort in feeling your skin on his, familiarity in the clouds of chantilly cream and sumeru rose that seem to linger about in the air around you. 

Perhaps, he is just as clingy as you are, in how he cuddles you close to his chest and takes a book from the stool next to the bathtub, preparing to read to you from it.

And you listen intently—no matter how hard the throes of sleep try to whisk you away—to the flip of parchment, the birds keeping you company at the sill, the handsome cadence to your lover’s voice that makes your cheeks feel all bubbly, the beat of his heart dovetailing yours through your back.

He reads to you until the moon casts her light over the water through the window and your fingers are pruned—short fairytales about butterflies dancing on honey cups, maidens falling in love with talking roses—all from a certain emerald-covered book handed down to him from the only person to show him the same tender care you do.

The tension is dispelled from your shoulders, the barely there coil of anguish around you fully snapping and resolving into something lighter, entirely less murky. And as you sit there in his embrace, you feel your nose twitch and the backs of your eyes sting. 

Again! Again, you cry! How lame you are in love, indeed, silly girl.

Because Al Haitham is romantic in the way he silently cares for you like this, looks at you as though you’re extraordinarily lovely, the greatest bit of knowledge he’d ever be able to wrap his head around; touches you as if you were the most delicate of flowers. 

Which, you are, because how can you not blossom under his affection and grow a little love-struck?

“H-Haitham?”

The words halt in his throat and he looks down at your face, or as much of it as he can make out when you’ve near buried it entirely into his neck. Humming sweetly, he coaxes you on with lithe fingers slipping beneath the water’s surface to rub shapes into your doughy hip. “Yes?”

“I love you…” You pick mindlessly at the emerald on his chest, let the words flow freely from the blubbering mess that has become of your voice— “I really love you, a whole lot.”—look up at him and smile toothily, plainly, eyes all watery and full of hope, promise, just like the child in you. “You love me a whole lot, too, don’t you?”

And what can he do but mirror your smile. Because from it a picture of reassurance has been born, flooding and twisting and seizing his entire being. Sometimes, most times, he doesn’t know how to behave when this thing, this wild love so eagerly breaks his body and pours without end into the hollow of his heart. 

But it is a nice feeling, a sweet feeling: when you look at him like this and he thinks, perhaps, he could learn to love as freely as this too. All he has to do is look. It won’t be hard. 

After all, everything he sees holds your darling smile within it.

thank you for reading ! ! ٩(^‿^)۶ if you liked what you read & wanted to show your appreciation — you can do so by donating to a vetted fundraiser to aid palestinians in the gaza genocide 🍉

[glittering-moonlillie]

My Beloved (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Word Count: 2740

Warnings: None

Summary: Not knowing how to express his feelings any other way, Damian resorts to calling you pet names in his mother's tongue in order to air out his pent up affection.

“Habibti, can you hand me the yellow frosting?” Damian was in deep trouble - absolutely terrible, hideous trouble. 

“Of course!” You reached over to your left and handed him the buttercream, the arabic pet name flying over your head. 

In his language, Habibti was a sign of endearment given to your lover, usually meaning something along the lines of My Love or Darling - but to you, he was utterly convinced that you believed it was a form of belittlement similar to Idiot.

Of course, Damian was too afraid to correct you and he was not sure if you would believe him if he tried. He would rather keep it a sweet secret to himself, even if his fragile heart was practically leaping its way out of his rib cage to expose itself to you. 

“You know, if you want to call me something mean at least make it so I can understand you.” You laughed, a noise that would certainly haunt him late at night when he was alone and longed for your presence. 

“But it’s much more fun seeing you like this.” You scruched your nose, your forehead creasing with the movement. Your lips were parted but no words came out. It was an adorable look he had grown to love despite how dorky you appeared. 

You retaliated with a poorly placed handful of orange frosting along his cheek, your lips twisting into a pout that only served to make the fantasies of kissing you worsen. 

Orange was an obnoxiously disgusting color but he would bathe in a lazarus pit full of orange frosting if you wished it. 

He ran his thumb along his cheek and licked away whatever frosting was there. Alfred’s special buttercream frosting really was to die for. Damian enjoyed the way your eyes slightly widened, relishing in the fact that it wouldn’t have been noticeable to anyone else. He liked to think that the scarlet decorating your face was because of him being undoubtedly sexy, and not the fact that it was because it was a hot summer’s day. 

“You’re staring, ya amar.” He smirked. “And I believe that cookie has way too much frosting, it looks like Picaso threw up all over it.”

Ya Amar had to be Damian’s second favorite pet name for you, translating to my moon. He often recalled the way his mother praised the moon for its beauty, treating it similar to a guiding life force. More than anything, Damian wanted to be the sun that illuminated your countenance - to be the man who kept you steady and loved you even if you just saw yourself as a clumpy rock. The name suited you perfectly. You were his beautiful, crated moon with star imbued eyes and a body that reflected the power of an inescapable black hole. 

“Hey, are those cookies almost finished? B wants them set out within the hour-” Tim walked in, his under eye bags accentuated further with the distasteful dark blue sweater he threw on. 

His brother paused, rolling his eyes at the state of the dining table. Damian hoped that the kitchen disaster was enough of a distraction for him not to notice the lovey-dovey eyes he assuredly was giving his best friend. 

“We’ll clean it up, Tim. Sorry about that.” You replied quickly. “But most of the cookies are done, Damian still has a few to finish though.”

You nudged him with your elbow, grinning wildly like the Cheshire cat. 

“Just don’t get distracted flirting with each other, I don’t want to deal with an irritated Bruce.”

“Shut up, Timothy. At least we aren’t aggressively making out like how you and Conner were at the last gala.” Damian shot back. 

Tim frowned. “I’m too tired to deal with this. Try not to explode anything, okay?”

Damian waved off his brother and went back to decorating one of the cookies for the large event at Wayne Manor tonight. It was a charity event to raise awareness of the increase in homeless population on the streets of Gotham, and alongside the event, his family was hosting a soup kitchen for any struggling person on the streets. Along with a hearty, full course meal, they would be served one of the cookies being decorated by the two of you. 

Although Damian’s father normally did not allow any friend’s to charity events, you were always an exception due to the fact that if you weren’t there, Damian would blow a gasket and murder someone if he was in a suit for too long. Your presence beside Damian was often looked over when you were both younger, but now that a few years had gone by plenty of journalists speculated the possibility of “a secret blooming relationship.” 

The common theory circulating around Gotham was the idea that his father was disapproving of them being together since you were a “commoner,” therefore excusing the lack of concrete evidence of the relationship existing. Damian had found the notion completely ridiculous; even if his father disapproved of you in that context, that would not stop him from loving you the way he always dreamed, consequences be damned. 

You treated the whole situation with carefree ease, giggling at the awful pictures and wack job theories concocted by 40 year old men looking to sell half-baked news. On one hand, Damian was pleased that the unwanted attention did not bother you, but deep down he also felt a pang of poison seep its way into his bloodstream. Was the idea of being his lover that much of a joke? 

The clicking of a phone keyboard brought him back to reality. Damian peered over your shoulder and saw Safari pulled up.

 “What ever are you doing, habibti?” 

“I’m trying to decipher what you are calling me.” You said. “Can you repeat that last word for me, please?”

The youngest Wayne felt every single pour in his body drip in sweat, excess saliva pooling in his mouth. Perhaps if his blood was functioning properly, then he would have found a better response other than a simple no. 

It was very rare for Damian to be properly caught off guard. He should have thought that you would have looked up the words he was repeating, should have come up with a game plan instead of looking like a strangled goose. 

His first instinct was to snatch the phone away and cut it up with the plastic, buttercream decorated knife. Damian could pretend to be possessed by a ghost and buy you a better phone with specially installed programs that inhibited your ability to look up any Arabic term. Yes, that was a wonderful idea-

“How are there zero search results?!!” You exclaimed, turning to him. “Did you make up a language or something? Why are there absolutely zero results??”

Damian looked at your phone again. You certainly took some liberties with the spelling of the pet name, letting him relax into his seat. It was nowhere close to how the word was spelled. He couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Why are there two y’s in the word?”

Your cheeks flushed. “Well maybe if you told me the other 20 languages you spoke I’d get somewhere.”

For the next 15 minutes, you angrily punched in 17 different ways to spell Habibti, all massively incorrect and leading to nowhere. You eventually threw your phone on the ground with a huff while he cackled. 

“This is so unfair. I demand restitution for the amount of time I have lost thanks to you.” Damian hummed.

“I can’t give you back those missing minutes, but I can pay you back with your favorite meal and my full attention tonight.” 

You pretended to ponder over the offer, but Damian knew you could not say no to Alfred’s cooking. “Okay, fine. But only because I love Alfred’s food and nothing else.”

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

The moon peered over the horizon, the stars twinkling like falling fairy dust on a navy blue canvas. Hundreds of Gotham’s richest filled Wayne Manor, most of which were dressed with gaudy colors and bedazzlements, with feathers and overpriced jewels. 

Damian was dressed in a dark green suit, one that Alfred had picked a little while ago. He was fully aware of the lustful stares he was given by the woman (and some of the men) there but he could care less. There was only one person he cared about impressing and that said person was “discreetly” stuffing themselves with a plate full of food in the corner. 

As an attendant of the Gala, you were in a stunning dress that fit every single curve of your body marvelously, all courtesy to Stephanie who helped you pick out the dress to begin with. Heat rose to his cheeks and he began fumbling with his tie. 

Damian was not the only one there to notice your beauty either. As you were trying to polish off your plate of food, several men had made attempts to woo you onto the dancefloor. Thankfully you declined all of their advances - Damian was not sure what he would have felt if you did. If it weren’t for the hundreds of other people present, he would have unquestionably sliced off the suitors hands if they tried to touch you again. 

“Ya Helo, you look…” His throat clogged as you stared up at him. “You look stunning…”

Damian was convinced that your smile was the brightest thing in the universe; he was also sure that it could cure any bout of irritation or sadness possible. 

“About time you showed up! Are you done flirting with the 70 year old women yet or does your dad want you back in there?” You poked his chest, the touch feeling like an electrical transfer. 

“You know that I would never flirt with those women back there, Habibti. My dad just wanted me to manipulate them into giving more of their money to charity.”

Before you could pull your hand away, he clasped it and brought it closer to his heartbeat. Your hands were a pebble compared to his own and yet they still managed to fit perfectly together like Incan architecture.

“I-I…” You looked away with a crooked smile. “I know that, obviously. I just wanted to tease you a bit!”

When you turned towards him once more, he noticed the way your eyes trailed down his visage, strawberry lips parting ever so slightly. Your laughter died in your throat. The scene felt like the ridiculous romcoms he analyzed from time to time while you were over. All he had to do was lean in a little bit closer and his dreams would be fulfilled-

The tight grip of someone’s hand seized his arm, effectively pulling him away from his darling. The movement caught Damian off guard (the second time that day). There was only a select handful of people who were able to sneak up on him like that…

“Mother.” Damian seethed, turning to gaze upon the woman with a cold glare. “What are you doing here?”

Fitted for the occasion in a sleek black dress, Talia crossed her arms and matched her son’s glare. “Is a mother not allowed to visit her son, especially when he has not messaged her in months?”

Damian stood in front of you, his hands slightly raised in case Talia decided to activate her mother bear mode. Talia’s eyes furrowed, her lip pursing. 

“How about you and your little friend follow me upstairs. You can tell me all about how you two met.” She suggested but her voice made it sound more like a threat. 

Damian hated how your smile disappeared and was replaced with an apprehensive grimace. He reached for your hand and squeezed. 

“Dami…” 

“It’ll be alright habib albi…” He whispered, squeezing your hand once again. As the three of them climbed up the stairs, the soft tune of the violin faded into nothing, not even background noise. 

“Mother, I find this hardly necessary. Could you have interfered in my life some other day?” Damian groaned. 

“Of course not, my son.” Talia shut the door of the room they entered. “If I had, I wouldn’t have been able to meet the girl who stole my beloved’s heart.”

Damian’s heart dropped. “I- what?”

“Y-you must be mistaken. Damian and I…Damian doesn’t like me like that!” You stuttered out with nervous laughter. 

Talia raised a single eyebrow. “I find that extremely hard to believe considering what I heard him call you.”

Fuck. Damian mentally slapped himself. He should have known that his mother would have heard him call you that. The pet name was just so natural to him, slipping off his tongue like sweet honey, he forgot that his mother would have been able to understand. 

You tilted your head towards Damian then back to Talia, reflexively playing with your hair. “I…maybe you misheard? He calls me these made up names, they really have no meaning.”

“Wait, so he has not told you what they meant?”

“No, he refused to tell me and when I looked it up, there were no search results.” You said. 

“Mother, please-” 

Talia raised her hand to silence him. “I can’t believe you have been lying to her, Damian! I have raised you better than that. She deserves to know that you are calling her Love of my heart and Darling in Arabic!”

You snapped your head towards Damian, who was internally screaming a colorful variety of cuss words towards his mother. He expected you to look horrified and slap him away, to run for the hills and never speak to him again. 

Instead you had this beautiful awestruck look in your galaxy-filled eyes. Your face was a deep crimson.

“Dami…” You hesitated. “Is this true?” 

The hopeful tone in your voice was as intoxicating as a few shots of bourbon.  

Damian imagined that the day he confessed to you would be atop a starry hill with perfectly blooming jasmines and evening primroses. He would pull you into his arms and whisper his love for you when the moon was at its peak, ending it with a kiss if you let him. It would have been perfect, if fate allowed it to be.

However, there were no starry hilltops or sweetly smelling fragrances - no moon that would peer over them and give its blessing. But you were there with him, an arm's reach away. As long as you were there, wasn't that all that mattered?

Damian glared at his mother, who was in the background with a smug smile, pretending to not overhear the conversation. When she didn’t get the message, he cleared his throat as loud as he could. 

“Fine. I suppose I’ll leave you to it - but I expect you to message me afterward since I did the hard work for you.” Talia sauntered her way out of the room, leaving you and Damian alone.

“You didn’t answer my question, Dami…” You glanced up at him with a shy smile. “Were you really secretly giving me pet names in Arabic?”

Reaching for your hands, Damian pulled you close to create a few inch gap. “Yeah…I wanted a way to show you how much I…how much I loved you without you figuring out.”

You giggled, the vibrations of it causing his heart to flutter. “You’re a dork, you know that? I would have reciprocated your feelings no matter what, but it would have been nice if you had told me sooner.” 

Your finger trailed down his neck to his collarbone, leaving a trail of lightning in its wake. “I demand more restitution for the time lost.”

Damian hummed, pretending to think of the perfect solution despite him already having one. You edged closer to him. 

“How about,” he began, “I kiss you until your lips are as blue as this night sky?”

But before you could respond, Damian already brought his lips to yours.  The dreams and fantasies he had did not live up to the actual softness of your lips - the subtle taste of raspberries filling his senses. 

Your hands tangled into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. “Shouldn’t we go back to the Gala?”

Damian looked back at the door, contemplating how mad his father would be if he ditched the rest of the party. It was waning closer to midnight anyway and he could just say you were tired. 

He turned back to you, his smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “He’ll be fine. Besides, I would rather be with you than flirt with 70 year old women.”

Your attempted giggle was covered with the rougher press of his lips against yours, causing you to fall backwards onto the guest bed. After years of calling you Habibti, now he could finally say it without you thinking it was an insult.

Damian is a simp with huge dimples. Fight me.

[kawaii-queen-kaiju]

Lies

Maribat March - Prompt 10

~

"He gave me a diamond the size of my fist! You can't tell anyone though; the paparazzi would be all over us." Lila loudly proclaimed from across the cafeteria. Marinette scoffed, throwing a disgusted sneer over her shoulder at the Italian. This was the fifth celebrity engagement story. She wondered just how she got unfortunate enough to be surrounded by these idiots. She could kill everyone in this room in two minutes flat, and yet, she had to restrain herself for the sake of the mission. Keep playing the role of meek little 'Mari', keep pretending she wasn't one of the most skilled assassins in the world. Stupid Hawkmoth. Because of some random ass dude, she was stuck among these sheeple.

She quickly left the cafeteria, exiting the school and heading to the bakery. She greeted Sabine - a member of the Order of the Miraculous and one of her old handlers - and climbed the stairs to her room. Just a little longer. She was so close to finding the man who had enough audacity to steal from the Order. And Hawkmoth, him too.

Her phone rang, startling her out of her inner monologue. It was Damian, her betrothed. She happily answered, the smile on her face genuine for once. 'Habibti. How was your day?' He asked, an odd whirring echoing in the background. 'Have you stabbed the harlot yet?'

She rolled her eyes, the smile on her face persisting. "It was fine. And no, I have not stabbed Lila, as much as I may want to. It's annoying, but it's helping my cover. She keeps the idiots from following me around, and it makes easier to search Paris for the lousy fake-Guardian and whatever asshat he let take the Butterfly." 

'And you're still sure you would not like me to join you and help?'

She sighed, the conversation a common one since she was sent to Paris. "I've got this, Dami. Besides, you wouldn't last five minutes here. I love you, but you are very temperamental."

He squawked angrily, and she could picture the offended look on his face, his jade green eyes crinkling adorably. 'I am not temperamental! You seem to be forgetting just how many of our trainers you sent to the infirmary.'

She rolled her eyes. "They were misogynistic pricks, and you know it."

'I was not arguing that they weren't, Habibti, merely stating that you extensively hurt each of them. In fact, I am quite glad for what you did. Had you not, Mother never would have seen fit to have us betrothed.'

Marinette smiled happily at the memory, standing in the middle of the large al-Ghul throne room in ceremonial garb, opposite Damian in matching robes. "Yeah." She glanced at the clock on the wall and cursed. "Sorry, Dami. I need to head back. Call you back later?"

'Of course. I love you, Habibti.' He answered curtly, though she could tell he was peeved at being cut off. "I love you too."

She came back to excited whispers throughout the classroom, and a huddle around Lila's desk. Marinette rolled her eyes, heading towards her own desk at the back of the room. Except...

She was stopped in her tracks by one whispered word. 'Damian'. There were plenty of Damians in the world, and several rich ones Lila could be claiming she's engaged to; but what if? Marinette continued up the stairs, but kept an ear on the conversation at the front.

'Wayne'.

Marinette clenched her teeth. They were talking about Damian. Her Damian. She'd seen articles and heard rumors before, right after Damian's debut as a billionaire's son, but something about hearing her beloved's name come from that liar's mouth made her see green. She was fuming, trying to force away the murderous haze. She was chosen for this mission specifically because of the ease it took to banish the Pit's influence from her mind, and she was not going to let Lila of all people ruin it for her. 

At the front of the room, the door slammed open. Marinette's mind screeched to a halt, because standing there in all of his glory was Damian. She shot to her feet and raced down the stairs before she registered what she was doing. He was here, right in front of her! She flung her arms around him, squeezing tight.

"Hello, Habibti." He whispered in her ear, squeezing her back. "What are you doing here?" She asked, pulling back to look at him. "Father found something. Camera footage of the akumas, and an identity, over a hundred and twenty years old. They're going after them now." He said, a happy gleam in his eye despite the lack of emotion on his face. Marinette grinned widely. Her mission is over! She can go back to Nanda Parbat - or Gotham!

"Marinette, what's going on?"

She turned around abruptly, remembering their audience. "Who is this?" Alya was front and center, glaring at her accusingly. Marinette's mind was whirling, trying to find an in-character way to answer. Except they found them. The false Guardian and the Butterfly. She didn't have to keep up her cover anymore. She grinned, her true smile, not the meek thing she'd developed the past few months.

She watched as Lila's little lapdog recoiled, enjoying the effect she finally got to have on her classmates. Marinette stalked forward, easily falling back into her natural gait. The walk of a predator. "I'm happy to announce that I'm done! I don't have to sit here and pretend anymore! You're all horribly stupid, and it was definitely not a pleasure to have known you." She let her smile widen to that terrifying degree that always made her targets believe she was inhuman. She never dissuaded those thoughts, instead encouraging them. "And you, Lila Rossi. You are a lying sociopath, and to be honest, I can respect that! But you chose to put my beloved's name in your mouth, and you've made me mad. Unfortunately for you, that is an unpleasant situation to be in."

"M-Marinette?" Alya tripped backwards on the steps, falling on her butt. She was ignored. Marinette's focus was on Lila, the repulsive girl who dared to soil her beloved's name with her tongue. To her credit, Lila was managing to hold eye contact with Marinette, even if it was in paralysis. "Tell me," Marinette slammed her hands on the lying girl's desk. "Do you do any research before you decide to spread rumors?" 

Lila was pale and shaking, her mouth a thin line. She didn't answer. "You do, don't you? You recognize my beloved, and you realize your house of lies is toppling around you." Marinette ended with a whisper, her face inches from the Italian's.

The room was silent, everyone's focus on the scene before them. On the way Marinette's personality did a complete one-eighty and froze everyone in their spots. Well, everyone except for the boy. He was staring at Marinette in adoration, hands clasped behind him as he watched his betrothed tear into her hemorrhoid of the last several months. His phone buzzed in his pocket, the only sound in the room. "Habibti. It's done."

Marinette whirled around, her sunshine smile back. "Then why are we still here?" She linked arms with the boy and left the room in stunned silence.

(The LoA and The Order are the same organization under different names)

[cerise-on-top]

what do you think kate, aleria and farah’s fav pet names to call their s/o’s, or even if they like pet names! i absolutely loooovvvvvvveeeee your stuff by the way, love! <3 you are feeding the lesbians in the cod fandom

Hey there! Thank you! I'm glad to hear that I can make something for the women lovers in the CoD fandom! That was my intention all along!

Pet Names That Valeria, Farah and Laswell Use

Valeria: I don’t think she’d use too many pet names as she does believe they’re somewhat embarrassing. Will absolutely not use any in public, but might use some when she’s drunk and alone at home with you. When she’s drunk she usually speaks some Spanglish, so chances are, unless you know both languages, you won’t fully understand her. And even then, her pet names are very few and far in between. They’re also nothing too special. Something along the lines of cariño/a or querido/a. Really, it’s nothing too fancy as Valeria isn’t usually one to show her affections through words. However, you can call her jefa and she’ll go wild internally. Naturally, she’s the boss among the two of you, but it’s nice to hear that anyway. Also the implication of you being family is nice.

Farah: Unlike Valeria, Farah is all for sweet pet names. Loves calling your romantic things that show you just how much she cares about you. She can go either way as well, either calling you something adorable in Arabic or English, she’s fluent in both languages after all. Calls you “my love”, “my moon” or “my heart”. It’s important to note that she usually puts “my” in front of your pet names since it’s important to her that you are hers. However, in Arabic she’ll call you something along the lines of habibi/habibti, rohi or ya amar. Maybe I should mention that she’d also love nothing more than to be sweet with you in Arabic, so her saying things to you in that language aren’t restricted to just pet names. She’ll compare you to the most beautiful things in existence. Farah can be quite eloquent in Arabic, actually, so it’ll always be sweet.

Laswell: Oh, she can probably go any way. Laswell knows so many languages, there’s a good chance she knows yours as well. So she likely wouldn’t be above calling you a pet name in your own language. Besides, if she doesn’t know your language then she’ll simply learn it, she really wants to indulge in the joy of speaking your native tongue with you. So she’ll definitely learn some sweet things she can call you in your language. However, if we go by English alone, then she won’t be too fancy on that one. She could be, don’t get me wrong, but she usually chooses to stick with something that will convey that she loves you, but won’t go overboard. You can expect something along the lines of “my love”, “sweetheart”, “sweetie” and, if she’s feeling especially daring that day, “cutie” from her.

[sangonomiya-kokofish]

Hello there Sister Habibti, i totally didn't come here just because of a Certain Someone ask me too~ *wink wink*

Anyways since I'm a sucker for Cyno, here's my request:

Can i request, A small fic about how F!Reader who Doesn't see Cyno as a scary person like, the way she see it, his intimidating glare and stern look is quite attractive to them actually. Like how would he react to someone who acted cheerful and happy with him, treating him like a friend rather than the usual act people give him with Extra high respect something like that, but reader? She treats him like a normal person, a friend.

Also she probably wants to get close to him too~

I'm a Cyno simp so ofcourse i would request Him~ 😌 also do you write nsfw? Of this is a sfw account?

Just a dark view

Notes: I was brainstorming titles before I wrote this I will see how much time it took me to write-plus this is just bullet points cause I'm on my fever- plus in this au your alhaitham's sibling-

-it took two days-

Cyno was never the one to think you- alhaitham's younger sibling would want to be his friend

You probably met him through alhaitham or tighnari..

My headcannon is that you took amurta cause if you took architecture

I forgot the Darshan name- ehem-

alhaitham would feel betrayed..

even tho his grandma even took the same Darshan

You and cyno are friends meaning you are feared by everyone at the academy cause who wants to mess with the scary mahamatra (lets not forget tighnari and alhaitham)

People always ask how did you even become friends with cyno

You always answer "just by meeting him while my brother was snatching away my tcg deck to play tcg with him"

Kaveh is also jealous you got to learn tcg tricks from the master player of tcg himself cyno

(they all jealous cause you spend half of alhaitham's salary on the rare and legendary cards and skins and alhaitham doesn't even bother say no cause your his adorable little sibling)

Overall good friendship- 💅👌💯

[rotonalhaitham]

Alhaitham - You wanting me tonight feels impossible. (NSFW)

(Can we talk about how we completely forgot that some people said alhaitham betrayed us in the archon quest or... Yeah let's not it ain't true anyway) (i just thought it's funny)

More brainrot here,,, a proper scenario and most probably a nsfw one soon (that one is screaming to be finished in my drafts)

Warnings: NSFW-ish, not proof read as always, very short

(boner alert)

A very tiring day for the both of you. A week, rather.

It has come to that point where work is slowly coming in, resulting to start hell week. And to make it worse, it affects both of you.

But fortunately , your boss had decided to give you 2 days break for your hard work. And to Alhaitham.. Well let's just say he is the boss. But that doesn't mean he doesn't have alot of work to do despite the power he holds. He decided to also have 2 days break to spend with you.

Finally, rest. One thing you know for sure after laying down with Alhaitham in the bed is comfort and rest that you needed. Your tired and sleepy state had controlled over you, and didn't realized your hands are wandering. But even so, your palm seems to be craving for some warmth, something warm like Alhaitham's temperature. Like your hand has its own mind, you lifted your lovers clothes that is covering his stomach, slowly and gently touching his hard abs. Your hands slowly went down to his torso, which you two are already asleep to even notice.

The sunlight caused you to wake up from it's brightness and the warmness of it. You slowly open your eyes, getting stirred from you sleep, you felt big buff arms wrapped around your waist. It's like it wasn't just last night you we're spooning your lover, now you're the one getting spooned.

Not long after, you felt the love of your life pepper quick pecks of kisses on the back of your neck, it made you giggle.

".. 'Morning, habibti."

He greated, his morning voice vibrating through your neck as he buries his face into you.

"Good morning my love."

You lovingly replied. There's no more better morning than to wake up to your lover's arms.

A moment of silence occurred. Just the two of you cherishing each other's warmth and adoration for each other. Not long after, you felt something poke your back. After realizing what it is, you felt flustered. Did he really got a boner just from this?

"... Haitham?"

You spoke up. Expecting him to know what you're talking about.

The smart man he is, he knows damn well you felt him. It's almost a shame but after weeks of work he missed you alot. Everything about you, and every inch of you.

"I'm sorry... All I could think of these past few days is you, aswell as what I'm going to do to you once we get some proper rest. I missed you, yknow? That day has finally come... Now, could you help me with this?"

Oh, but how could you ever decline? He's the only one who's in your mind too.

[rapz-rites]

Demon Spawns Part 2

Damian x Alien!Reader (established relationship)

Part 2 of Demon Spawns

You can’t stop thinking about Mar’i calling you sis. You decide to do something about it

A/N: Sorry this took so long but I hope you enjoy this. Now I’m working on Version 2 and some other stuff. After having to write a part 2 V2 is only gonna be 1 part cuz I’m not doing this again

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings:Making out, angst

-sis?

-Sis?

-SIS??

- That’s all that’s been on your mind since your future kids incident

-In the shower

-Grocery shopping

-Work

-School

-Did Mar’I know something about your biological family that you didn’t?

-Maybe she just saw you as a older sister figure

-It made you really think about your bio family

-You absolutely adored you adopted family but you had that unexplainable need to find out about your roots, where you came from

-What better way that with a 23andMe DNA kit

-You bought the family tree version

-You didn’t really care what ethnicities you were probably mixed with

-You waited about a month for the results

-Checking your email on the hour after the sent an email saying they received your saliva

-Now you were at the manor, chilling in the common living room (they have like 7)

-It was you, Damian, Tim, Steph, Duke, and Cass

-Damian laid his head on your lap, while you playing with his hair, staring at the flat screen TV that played some action movie Duke and Steph picked

-That's when your phone vibrated

-It was an email from 23andMe

-You couldn’t believe it

-0 familial matched

-Not even a 6th cousin twice removed

-Nothing

-“I need to go to the bathroom.”

-You walked out of the living room quickly, making your way to Damian’s Room, locking yourself in his bathroom

-You walking to the sink, hands on the edge, looking at yourself through the mirror

-How?

-Was it an error?

-Were YOU an error?

-OMG

-WHAT IF YOU’RE AN AI OR ROBOT?

-WHAT IF…

-Knock knock

-“Beloved, are you ok?”

-It was your boyfriend

-“You’ve been gone for a long time”

-No you haven’t

-Once you and Damian really got comfortable with each other, he started clinging to you

-You couldn’t complain though

-You loved the attention and affection

-It took longer for Damian to open up to you, than you with him

-“I'm fine Dami.”

-You went to unlock the door

-As your hand went towards the door knob, Damian whipped the door open

-Honestly, you weren’t be surprised

-What else would you expect from a clingy ex assassin

-He takes a step closer to you, engulfing you into a hug

-You hug him back, face flushed against his chest

-“What's wrong? Did something happen?”

-He says, stroking your back gently

-You look up at him with teary eyes

-“I might have no family. Like at all.”

-Damian looked slightly confused

-“I took the 23andMe DNA kit for the family tree and I have zero results”

-“Oh habibti. You could’ve just asked me to help you.”

-Face still flushed against his chest, you respond

-“I know… I just thought maybe it was something I had to do on my own, you know.”

-Damian doesn’t respond

-He just continues stroking your back and places a kiss on the top of your head

-“Do you want to try the DNA sequence on the ‘BatComputer’ as you like to call it”

-“Yes please” You mumble in his chest

-You both just stand there, Damian’s arms wrapped around you

-“Can we do it at night when no one’s around. I don’t want them to know”

-“Of course Beloved”

-That night Damian was off from patrol

-Damian was already in the BatCave training

-You descended the stairs, but stopped when you noticed someone

-“Oh. Hey Dick. I thought you all left for patrol”

-“Hey Y/N. No, I took tonight off. Mar’i is having a sleepover with Lian so Kori and I are having a night in.”

-“Oh ok. Good night”

-“Good night”

-With that he walks up the stairs and leaves

-Damian was now sitting in the BatChair waiting for you

-You quickly walked to him, standing close to the chai

-“I already started the sequence on the ‘BatTablet’. It won’t be too long until we get the results”

-“So it runs my DNA against…?”

-“Every DNA system in the world. Police, hospitals and online DNA testing databases. I even included the Leagues.”

-You go to hug him

-Placing yourself on his lap, his hand immediately goes to your waist securing you on him lap

-You reach for his face, placing a hand gently on each cheek

-“You’re amazing and I love you”

-Damian leans closer to you, nose brushing against yours

-“Show me how much”

-You grin, close the gap between the two of you

-Damian slides the chair back as you move to straddle him, your arms wrapping around his neck

-Damian’s hand goes to the small of your back and the other at the top of your neck, bringing you as close as possible

-You open your mouth to try and take a breath

-Damian takes this as an opportunity to deepen the kiss with his tongue

- You moaned into the kiss, feeling Damian underneath you

-You both continue making out until you hear a ding

-You immediately tried to hop off Damian

-Key word tried

-He groaned as you broke the kiss

-‘Damn I should’ve turned off the notification ringer’ he thought

-“Damian I need to see the results”

-You twisted your body, still straddling Damian, trying to reach the BatTablet next the the keyboard, but Damian hugged you tightly

-You turned to face him and places a hand on each of his cheeks

-“Dami, I really need to see those results. I promise we can continue this later”

-He looked at and raised his eyebrows, holding out his pinkie finger to you

-“Pinkie promise”

-You taught Damian the concept of pinkie promises just before you starting dating

-Naturally, he thought that they were silly and childish

-But now, to him, they’re blood oaths

-“Pinkie promise”

-As soon as he let go of you you rushed to the BatTablet

-When you opened the results your face contorted into one of confusion and shock

-Damian just watched you from the BatChair, eyebrows now furrowed

-You kept scrolling

-Then you stopped

-Your mouth fell into a frown and tears welled in your eyes

-Damian took this as his sign to come up to you

-You handed him the BatTablet and ascended the stairs to the manor

-Damian quickly scummed the results as he tried to follow you

-Once he reached the foyer he saw you putting of you jacket and grabbing your keys

-“Where are you going?”

-“To get answers”

-Damian didn’t hesitate as he put on his jacket and grabbed your keys from your hands

-“I’m driving”

-The car ride was quiet

-Once Damian parked the car you both just sat there in silence

-Damian really wished he could read your mind at that moment

-To know what you were thing, what you were feeling

-He hated see you like this

-“What are you go-”

-Before we could finish you get out the car, strutting into the apartment complex

-Damian rushed out of the car to follow you

-Damian finally caught up to you

-You were standing in front of the apartment door

-You didn’t know how to feel

-You started banging on door with both fists

-You wanted to make sure that they heard you

-Suddenly the door was whipped open

-“Oh my gosh! What are you do-”

-Ignoring him, you push past him to see her come into the living room

-Looking confused, he turns to Damian

-Damian hands him the BatTablet

-She walks in from one of the bed room

-“Hey? What’s going on?”

-She clutched her robe, attempting to cover herself up more

-“How long have you known?”

-“What? What are you talking about?”

-She knew exactly what you were talking about

-She didn’t want to admit it, she couldn’t

-You turned and grabber the BatTablet from him, and force her to look at it

-She slowly takes it from your hand looking down at it

-“I didn’t want you to find out this way. I swear”

-“Oh really? Or did you not want me to find out at all?”

-She stayed silent

-You turned to him

-“Did you know too Dick?”

-He was silent too, guilty look in his eyes

-That’s all you needed to know

-You finally started to let the tears fall

-“I trusted you. I opened up to you. I told you how I felt abandoned by my birth parents and how I thought I wasn’t good enough for them. How if I was better maybe they wouldn’t have given me away. But all this time, you were right here. In the same state.”

-“N/N it’s not like that.”

-You couldn’t take it anymore

-She kept this huge secret from me

-“Don’t call me that. You’re my mother Kori.”

-You weren’t even mad, just sad

-Sad that she’s known for 3 years and didn’t say anything

-Sad that she never told you

-Sad that even when she knew, she never wanted to be your mother

-You didn’t understand one thing though

-“Why didn’t you tell me”

-You said in a hushed tone

-“I was. When I was able to confirm that you were really my daughter I was going to tell you. But then I saw you with your adoptive parents, and you looked so happy. I didn’t want to ruin that”

-She wasn’t entirely wrong, but it wasn’t enough for you

-“What kind of excuse is that? You thought I would be better off not knowing who my biological mother is. I even told you that I wanted to know, that I’ve tried doing research to find her”

-She was still silent

-“You sent your daughter away just to have another one”

-That broken Kor’i’s heart even more

-At this point both you and Kor’i were in tears

-You wiped your eyes trying to pull yourself together

-“I can’t do this. Let’s go Damian”

-Damian follows you as you storm out, leaving Kor’i broken and Dick to try and pick up the pieces

-After that night, you a would avoid Dick and Kor’i as much as possible

-It got so bad that you didn’t go to the manor for 3 weeks

-Much to your dismay, you were forced to see her, be in the same room as her

-Everyone sensed the tension between the two of you

-Mostly… ALL coming from you

-You were so furious with her

-Everyone was silent, waiting for the meeting to start

-That silence lasted until not other than Wally West spoke up

-”So I did the math…”

-You already knew what was coming

-You did the math too

-”Star, you had a baby at 15?”

-Sigh

-Of course

-”Tamaranean customs and way of life are different on earth than there. And time is different in space, Wallace.”

-You tuned everyone out as you looked out the window of the WatchTower

-You were situated far enough to hear everything,but far enough to be alone with your thoughts

-You were thinking about everything and nothing

-After you found out about Kor’i you felt so numb

-Could you do the same thing she did?

-Even though you knew your future kids for less than 12 hours, part of you broke when you had to see them go

-Did she feel the same way when she has to let you go?

-It must’ve

-It had to

-She had to

-You were started by a hand on your shoulder

-“You should talk to her”

-You knew he knew what you were thinking about

-“You don't want to?”

-It’s not that you didn’t want to, you couldn’t

-“Exactly”

-He turned you to look at him

-He just looked at you

-Giving you the look you can so easily recognize

-‘You know what you have to do’

-Damn him

-You sighed, dropping your shoulders

-You dropped your head into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist

-He just hugged you back

-After a few moments you released him

-“I have to talk to Kent about something”

-You nodded at he walked away, making his way towards Jon

-You turned your head to look out the WatchTower, crossing your arms

-You just had to ask her if it hurt and that’s it

-Right?

-Walked toward Kori, grabbing her wrist, pulling her into an empty room

-“Did it hurt?”

-“I’m sorry what?”

-“Did it hurt, when you have to send me away?”

-Kor’i sighed

-“Of course it did. It hurt more than being experimented on”

-You were satisfied with that answer, but it you didn’t let it show

-“Well then… ”

-You shifted your weight on your heels

-“I’m willing to possibly have a relationship with you”

-She smiled and hugged you tightly

-She released you after a few seconds hands on your arms

-“This makes me the most happy”

-You nod with a small smile

-“Let’s return to the others”

-Once to two of you joined the others, the meeting was just starting

-Bat man spoke first

-“We are about to face a possible new threat”

-A cryptic message appears on the board

-“We’ve ran it through every language on our database and zero result”

-Studying to message further you realized it’s not alien language

-“It’s code”

-Batman turned to you as you spoke

-“It’s a code I made when I was like 10. But I haven’t used it since I was like 15/16”

-Wally sped to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulder

-“You’re an alien princess with your own secret language”

-He chuckles

-“What else don’t we know about you, N/N. What-”

-Before he could finish Damian pulls him off you by his collar

-“Get your leprechaun in check Grayson before I do it myself”

-Oh when he threatens people for you 😍

-Wally releases himself from Damian’s hold

-“Who are you calling leprechaun, midget”

-“I’m taller than you West”

-You and Artemis shared of look

-If y’all didn’t stop this disagreement now, someone, Wally, would get hurt

-A bright orange light flashed in the center of the conference room

-Everyone immediately prepared to attack

-You didn’t

-The light felt warm, familiar

-“WAIT! Don’t do anything” you yelled

-Once the light disappeared, a guy was there

-He looked about 18 or 19

-His skin matched yours and his hair was like Damian’s

-He had the most beautiful shade of green eyes like Damian’s but the warmth of yours

-You go to hug him

-“Hi Sunny”

-He smiles as he hugs you back

-“Hi Mom. Did you get my message”

-OOOHHH

-Of course

-“Yes. You almost gave your grandfather a heart attack”

-Clark giggled

-Sunny turned to look at his father

-“Hi Dad”

-Damian just nodded, not knowing what to say

-Sunny smiled

-He knew his father might’ve acted like this

-Your son from the future just appeared

-How is Damian the one internally freaking out while you’re so calm?

-“What’s going on? Why are you here?”

-Sunny turned to look at you

-“We need your help mom”

-Sunny looked serious

-Oh no

OMG THIS TOOK FOREVER. But that's my fault hehe Plz let me know how you feel about this. I appreciate ANY type of criticism. I NEED IT TO GET BETTER.

I lowkey forgot about this lolz but I got it done

[princelylove]

Since you said okay to request nsfw fic/drabble then I'd love to request for Abdul base on your answer of previous ask. The idea is darling try to escape and he found out, give them a special punishment. I interested in you said he has fear play and edging kink so I hope you can include that. Making darling feel scared but later make them beg for him to reach orgasm is so adorable

~ 🏵️ anon ~

Ahaaaa...... this ask is from the fifteenth of december. I think I owe you something at this point. Forgive me? ♡♡♡♡ This wasn't exactly what you asked for, but I hope you like it anyway. Reader is gender neutral but there's one fem pet name in arabic used.

Mohammed is supposed to be patient. 

He’s calm, rational. 

He isn’t necessarily a man of impulse- very few times has he fallen victim to his own urges, if any such occasions were to exist in the first place. 

He can’t recall the last time he made such a rash decision. Perhaps when he was younger.

In a moment of panic, he sets the stairway railing on fire, causing you to stumble off to the side into an end table meant for tossing oddities found on the way home, and sometimes flowers. It isn’t a neatly organized surface, which is odd compared to the rest of Mohammed’s house. Several trinkets are quick to answer gravity’s call, breaking on impact. If you weren’t bent on actually escaping today, you’d usually apologize for breaking any of Mohammed’s ceramic cats laid around your ‘home.’ He’s terribly fond of them- cats, in general, actually. 

He wishes you were more like a cat. More simple. You tend to swat at him, certainly, but you’ll learn to trust him, as almost all cats would. 

You’d consider yourself not to be a cat, as you’re a human being who has complex needs. 

A human being who is very, very flammable. 

“Habibti.” 

You fumble your way down the stairs, tripping a bit on the end table you just knocked over. Mohammed’s house is quite sizable, you won’t be at the bottom of the stairs anytime soon, even with your fall taking a good four or five steps out of the equation. You’re fine, the rug he had laid out in case you ever did fall saved your poor knees, but it takes you a second to reorient yourself. A second he graciously takes from you, as he sets the rug on fire.

He is not exactly immune to his own fire, so he stares down at you, silently, hating himself for putting even more space between the two of you. When you don't move, he finds it in himself to make a small statement.

“Do not take another step or, God willing, you will not see the light of day for a month.”

You foolishly decide to go for the rest of the stairs. The railing cracks, and falls, putting even more obstacles in Mohammed’s way. 

The rooms you pass are all dead ends. You could jump out one of the many windows, of course, but what use would that be? A broken leg isn’t going to allow you your salvation, and your legs are already a bit bruised. 

To be fair, neither is stopping to apologize. You can hear it in his tone- he’s trying with all of his might to remain gentle, but he’s livid. His voice rings from his spot at the top of the stairs- you’ve never actually heard him properly yell before. He’s groaning out of frustration. 

You make your way to the bottom of the stairs, and just when you reach the front door, you feel a hand yank you back by the collar of your top. 

“I love you. Why are you running from me? Have I done something? Tell me what it is, and I’ll fix it.”

He shushes you oh-so-lovingly, and presses you firmly against his chest. His necklace presses into your face roughly.

“My love. My moon. It isn’t so horrible here. Let me take care of you.” 

You attempt to push him away, but freeze at his stand grabbing you from behind. 

It grabs at your upper arms, and sets the portion under its palms on fire.

Mohammed shushes you. He assures you he has cold water ready. It seems he doesn’t care about your screams, or about rushing, as he takes his time to go to the upstairs bathroom. The rug has been removed from the staircase entirely- not that you’d see it, as you faint on the way there.

When you wake up, which feels instantaneous, Mohammed has you on your back, in your shared bedroom. You’re allowed a personal room, of course, but not at the moment.

He isn’t touching you- in fact, he isn’t anywhere near you. The hands on your wrists belong to him, but aren’t his own. When he hears you’ve finally woken up, he instructs you to keep your eyes closed on the off chance that you can see his stand, Magician’s Red- it’s for the better. He is not easy on the eyes, and is rather unforgiving.

A trait that both the user and stand itself share, if not just the user, and projected onto the stand.

Perhaps if you were more well behaved, he wouldn’t have to remind you of his inclination. 

Maybe if you had the common sense of not running from him in a closed space.

He loved chasing you, but he doesn’t love the damage you’ve done to his house. Or the fact that you nearly got out.

“Do you think of me a bad man, my love?" As he speaks, you feel something hot running down your sternum- it travels over your stomach, and hovers between your legs briefly before hovering back up again.

"I never want to be the cause of your stress. If you want to be chased, you need only ask."

He pauses a bit, and you hear his footsteps coming closer. They're dragging, for once.

"In fact, it's my intention to relieve you of stress."

[celestemona]

just read your post about how the kids ask how we met and it was absolutely adorable!!! Your writing is so beautiful

just wanted to lyk (for future references AND NOT IN A RUDE WAY I SWEAR) habibi means love for males and habibti is for females!!!! just so u don’t get confused nd allat

Thank you soooo much, dear 💗 I’ll edit it right away and save this very important information in my drafts hahah!

Once again, thank you for your reading and kind words!!

Have a good day 💐💖

[withloveheart]

What are your favorite kdramas?

Hey Habibti,

I have like 14 currently, but I am probably just going to a couple in no particular order.

Romance is a Bonus Book

I remember this had shocked me on how cute the storyline was. I wasn't expecting much since I never hear anyone talking about this kdrama, but Lee Jong-Suk was in it, and I've loved many of his other dramas. It's about a woman whose relationship with her husband and first love ends and how she has to adapt to how much the workforce has changed. Her childhood friend, who has been in love with her for years, doesn't know about her situation and she spends a good amount of effort in the beginning making sure he doesn't find out. It's cute and I loved it.

Vincenzo

Vincenzo had the entire kdrama community in a chokehold and I am no different. A nice mixture of thriller, humor, and a sprinkle of mystery served with a healthy romance on the side. I adored everything about it except one thing, but I can't talk about that since it would be a spoiler. It's about a lawyer who used to work for the Italian mafia and is now in Korea in order to find some money that had been hidden away ages ago.

Honestly, the dark romance authors should take some notes from this show because they did a mafia storyline really well. The romance was also not abusive and based on mutual respect. Two wholes coming together to create a cute dynamic.

Flower of Evil

A detective who is investigating a popular serial killer case and starts to notice something weird about the case. Her husband has also begun acting weirdly ever since her unit has been working on the case and believes him to not be who he says he is. What's worse, is the serial killer's accomplice is back after a victim is found to fit the original killings from several years ago.

It was emotional and had me crying by the end. I have to thank @wutsetien for this one since she had high praises for it.

Strong Woman Do Bong Soon

If you want something feel good, cute, cheesy, and funny then this is the drama for you. I don't remember the details because I haven't watched in a while, but when I first did, I was obsessed. A drama that is very beloved by the kdrama community.

Kingdom

As someone who used to be a fan of the zombie genre, no one has been doing zombies like South Korea. Singlehandedly, Korea has brought back my zombie obsession that I had thought was long gone. I love the small twists Kingdom had given their zombie lore. I can't wait for season two.

Happiness

Another zombie drama but it concentrates a lot more on people and the terrible things they will do to survive. The romance in this is top tier. Two people who have been friends decide to marry each other so they can get a free apartment that their civil servants job can offer them when people start to get infected. I love that it is essentially two people who already have lots of respect and love for each other as friends growing closer in a hard environment. I love that there isn't any pesky in-laws, no second male or female lead, or stupid misunderstandings between them. I also loved the villain of the story too.

There are more but I don't want this to become incredibly long.

With All My Love,

Heart💚

[zhongrin]

Rinnnnn!!!! Hope ya are doing great these days! ❤️❤️

Wdym typo? I thought Moray eel Zhonglee is your hubby? /j

help 🤸

Wait ya mean you hc Zhongli as a kind of messy? And forhejeibejek so cute how you're controlling it for your hubby aaaa, you truly complete each other <33

Ikr?? I can't speak as fancy as the both of them like 🏃💨 hope my Zhongli drabbles are already enough heh. (BTW! can I send ya some drabbles from time to time too? <3)

LMAO ngl I somehow understand that, stan Meitham <33 (plssss it's also so cute dodbejkwk)

HELP RIN I would never simp for Zhongli (although some ppl are doubting that heh-);; but I had some troubles the last day in which I thought my Ayato phase came back but it didn't. I still love Baizhu with my whole heart ❤️🤸

HELP RIN you're so cute, but no need to do that mwah <33

Yes Changsheng was literally all the time like: aight, can ya get together now? Can't handle Baizhu nor you acting like this 🙄

IKR QIQI IS SO CUTE I wanna hug her so bad frfr ❤️❤️

HELP WHERE DID THE DOLLS CAME FROM?? 🧑‍🦯

Ah I see I see, but he surely thought his dear friend is lucky to have a follower like you <33

LMAO ALHAITHAM 😭 I mean he totally would omfg.;; But yes I can understand the relief of his then heh

Ikrikr he surely was but he also was confused at first when he saw me walking up the stairs, limping a bit but also he was like "Who is this? Never seen her" like new patient yk

Then he saw me tripping and ofc he rushed over to help me and was like "Oh she is clumsy. But adorable. Wait WHAT-;;"

What can I say? He fell 0.0000001 seconds faster than me heh.

Next question! <3

Do you have any pet names for your hubby's? If so, what are they and also maybe why it is that specific pet name? <3

(help Rin I thank you sm for answering my long ass asks with such long ass texts, I really appreciate it and I really enjoy reading it aaaaaa <33❤️)

i am!! ty for asking ehheh i hope you're doing well too and baizhu is giving you enough kithes <3

moray eel zhonglee gOODBYE I AM DEAD HLSDJFKLJSDFS no but fr they're so funny looking i cannot- also APPARENTLY THERE'S A DRAGON MORAY EEL VI WE'RE ONTO SOMETHING HERE in an alternate universe, liyue is an underwater kingdom with dragon moray eel zhongli ruling over the city

not exactly messy but he hoards a lot of things. yk how asian parents keep the sauces and containers from takeaway food? ....... yeah.

you can send me drabbles yes ofc that would make my day???? hsldjflksjdklf you don't even need to ask helphsldkfjklsjdlf but you don't have to ofc!!! never feel pressured to do so, although pls know that i would treasure them forever if you ever do so 😭

......... vi vi vi what if. imagine both baizhu and ayato pining for you- 👀

where did the dolls come from you ask? uhhhhhhh- we're writers we have ✨unlimited✨ imagination :D

"oh she's clumsy" -> "oh that's adorable i want to protect her- wait what-" is the only valid reaction nodnod would you say baizhu is protective of you then bc i can totally see that hehe <3

pet names!!!!

i have a lot for zhongli hehe i call him xiànɡ ɡonɡ / hubby, lónglí (mashing character for dragon + last character of his name), li, darling, dear, love.... i actually had a whole post about it sldjfklsjdlf ALSO ALSO since you're a selfship enthusiast if you're interested there's this collab you can check out hehe

for al haitham.... actually not that much bc he doesn't call me by nicknames too much either!! but i do call him haitham, dear, beloved, babe (to fluster him mainly lmao)!! and he usually just calls me by name (meirin / mei / rin) but on private he might use habibti or love <3

how about you and baizhu? what kind of nicknames do you have for each other? also!!! what kind of dates are your favorite? <3

(and pls it's no problem at all, i'm glad you like the long responses bc i. i gush about my selfships a LOT WAUGHHJDSFH i enjoy reading your asks too wahhh they always make me smile <3)

[a-few-of-my-favorite-turtles]

1-65 vday asks :)

thank you!! xoxo

VALENTINE’S DAY | ASK SPECIAL 1: Do you have a crush at the moment? My beautiful wonderful girlfriend!! She is amazing and blows me away and I know yall hear about her a lot and that’s why. hi honey!!2: Have you ever been deeply in love? I most definitely have (I am right now, tbh, so over the moon)3: Longest relationship you’ve ever been in? a year and a half4: Have you ever changed for someone? Not to impress them, I mean, I change naturally all the time, influenced by the people I’m around a lot5: How is your relationship with your ex? I’m lucky to be friends with the only one that matters6: Have you ever been cheated on? Found out later that someone tried7: Have you ever cheated? no8: Would you date someone who’s well known for cheating? no9: What’s the most important part of a relationship? Communication. All else will follow10: Do you like to be in serious relationships or just flings? I seem to lean towards serious relationships. Not opposed to flings, just apparently not built for them11: When you are dating someone do you believe in going on “breaks”? a friend of mine who I consider very wise once said “usually a break means a break up” and I’ve yet to see her proven wrong12: How many people have you ever hooked up with?  O.o13: What’s one thing you regret saying/doing in a previous relationship? Hmm, well I regret the hurt I’ve caused14: What age do you think is appropriate for kids to start having sex? It’s not so much age as maturity and ability to understand and give/receive consent. I think 16 is pretty appropriate for the legal age, but we seriously need better sex ed15: Do you believe in the phrase “age is just a number”? to some extent. But as long as everyone’s a consenting adult, other people’s relationships aren’t my business, ya feel?16: Do you believe in “love at first sight”? no17: Do you believe it’s possible to fall in love on the internet? Why not18: What do you consider a deal breaker? Not wanting futures that can work with each other19: How do you know it’s time to end a relationship? When we’re clearly not compatible in who we are/what we want20: Are you currently in a relationship? Happily so!!21: Do you think people who have dated can stay friends? yes 22: Do you think people should date their friends? It’s worked out well for me- besides if you’re not friends with the person you’re in a relationship with, it won’t last very long23: How many relationships have you had? 2.3724: Do you think love can last forever? yes25: Do you believe love can conquer all things? no26: Would you break up with someone your parents didn’t approve of? Not because my parents didn’t approve of them, but it would give me pause27: If you could go back in time and give yourself one piece of advice about dating what would it be? I am worth a partner who actually wants me and will care for me back 28: Do you think long distance relationships can work? Yes!!29: What do you notice first about another person? Probably their body language?30: Are you straight, bi, gay or pansexual? lesbian31: Would it bother you if your partner suffered from any mental illness? No, of course not32: Have you ever been in an abusive relationship? Thankfully no33: Do you want to get married one day? I do34: What do you think about getting your partner’s name tattooed? I can’t commit to any tattoos lol. What if I decide I want a different font?35: Could you be in a relationship without sex? Yes, but tbqh I’d want sex long term36: Are you still a virgin? ye37: What’s more important: Looks or personality? personality38: Do you enjoy love films? Not particularly, but theres some decent ones39: Have you ever given anyone/received roses? i don’t think so40: Have you ever had a valentine? Yes 41: What’s your imagination of a “perfect date”? anything with my girlfriend, I adore her and just enjoy being with her42: Have you ever read “Romeo & Juliet”? lol yes43: What’s more important: Your partner or your friends? Everyone is important44: Would you consider yourself “romantic”? yeah, kinda45: Could you imagine to date one of your current friends? I am dating someone I was friends with, so yes, and it has been a great move46: Have you ever been “friendzoned”? I don’t think so? At least not permanently47: Which “famous couple” is your favorite? Eliza and Ham minus cheating, or Alex and Maggie, if we can count fictional48: What’s your favorite love song? “Helpless” (Hamilton) and “Love Song” (Pippin)49: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? I have, and I’m sorry50: If you’re single, why do you think you are? Not single ^-^51: Would you rather date someone who’s rich but a douchebag or someone who’s poor but a nice guy? Poor but nice girl, thank you very much52: Are you good at giving other people advices regarding dating/ relationships? I try, but like, I’m no wizard 53: Are you jealous of couples when you’re single? Not really54: How important is it to make a relationship official (p.e. on Facebook)? I mean, idk about “official” but I think it’s important that both partners are on the same page about what they expect from the relationship, including how public it is55: Would you consider yourself “clingy”, “overly attached” or “jealous”? I try really hard not to be 56: Have you ever “destroyed” a relationship? Is this like someone else’s? no?57: Do you think it’s silly to consider suicide because of a broken heart? Please if you’re considering suicide, call this hotline: 1-800-273-8255. Suicide is serious, and you deserve help58: Are you the “dominant” or the “submissive” part in a relationship? Equal partner in crime, thank you very much (probably more sub)59: Have you ever forgotten important dates like your partner’s birthday or your anniversary? No, and im gonna try not to start now! 60: What’s your opinion on open relationships? Consenting adults. I don’t care what other people do other than that. I like my relationship as is currently61: Who’s more important: Your partner or your family? Omfg. Okay, in many ways my partner is like family, and this question is ridiculous regardless, everyone’s situations are different and valid 62: How do you define “cheating”? when one partner makes the decision to do relationshipy things outside the relationship without communicating with the other partner/getting their consent 63: Is watching porn while being in a relationship inappropriate? This is something for partners to discuss and decide amongst themselves. 64: Do you think Valentine’s Day is overrated? Lol a little, but it can  be fun 65: Would you consider yourself a “cuddler”? with my girlfriend hell yeah

[ggomos-maribat]

One True Three

One

Damian combed his fingers through the golden locks lying on his lap. He attempted to shift his legs, but they were persistently trapped under his boyfriend's body. "Darling," he said to Felix, "Time to get up."

A playful smile touched Felix's lips. He didn't look up from his book. "I'm still reading."

"Yes, while ignoring me."

Felix snorted. "My head is on your lap. If you want some attention you’re more than free to ask for it."

Damian's fingers traced down his cheek, all the way to his collarbones and arm. Felix gave an involuntary shudder, but pretended that nothing happened. Damian bent down to kiss his forehead. "That book is hardly interesting."

"You haven't even read it."

"I know enough." He'd heard Jason narrate book reviews out loud.

"I find it interesting."

"And not me?"

The corner of Felix's lip twitched. "You're fine."

"You have been reading for two hours, darling." Damian caught the book between two fingers but Felix snatched it away from his grip before he could steal it. "Come on, we have to wake Habibti."

Felix stretched, bringing his arms and legs out. The gray eyes looking up at Damian had an impish gleam on them. "This spot is quite comfy, don't you think?"

Damian sighed and lifted Felix off with full strength. The blonde only smiled widely as he was pulled along to their bedroom. Marinette was still curled up in the middle of the bed, snoring away adorably while looking absolutely tiny.

Felix lied down on her left, whilst Damian took her right. Two pairs of arms wrapped around the sleeping girl. "Habibti," Damian whispered, peppering kisses on her face. "Time to wake up."

Marinette groaned. "Too early."

Felix brushed the hair away from her cheek and pressed his lips on her jaw. "It's one in the afternoon, ma belle."

She groaned again. "That's still early!"

"Shall we fix you breakfast? Pancakes?" Damian offered.

Her blue eyes flew open, albeit still tired. "Okay, okay I'm up." She snuggled deeper into their warmth. "You're going to set the kitchen on fire again, mon oiseau, and you, mon chou, might add salt to the pancakes again."

"That was one time," Felix grumbled, burying his face on her shoulder.

She giggled. "Cuddle time first. Then we'll make the pancakes together."

Two

Felix was positioning the cart near the snacks aisle when Marinette ran over to him holding a bottle with a pump.

"Mon chou, can we get this? Please?" Marinette pleaded.

"What’s that?" He raised an eyebrow.

"It's a flower soap dispenser!" She waved the bottle at his face, showing images of how the dispenser worked. He gently lowered her arm.

"We already have a soap dispenser at home, ma belle," Felix sighed.

"But we don't have a flower soap dispenser," she argued.

"It's twenty dollars."

"It's worth it!" She puffed up her cheeks.

Felix looked down on the contents of their cart. They'd only agreed to a quick trip to the grocery since they were running out of cleaning supplies and food. Unfortunately, their smile pile had grown into a bigger mountain, as they picked up more items they needed.

"Marinette, love, we don't need that." He tried again, but the energetic girl couldn't be quelled.

"I'll go get my own cart and buy this myself then." Marinette turned around, ran off, and promptly bumped into Damian who was carrying some fresh produce and frozen food. He caught Marinette by the waist, looking at both of them inquisitively.

"Mon oiseau, can we get this, please?" Marinette sheepishly smiled once she was steadied on her two feet.

"What is that?" Damian asked.

"A flower soap dispenser!"

Damian glanced at Felix who only shook his head. His lips quirked up as Marinette relentlessly defended her 'need' for a flower soap on her hands.

"I suppose we can have a childish purchase just once." Damian nodded.

"Thank you, thank you, Damian!" Marinette kissed his cheek. "Wait—hey! It's not childish! This is for the betterment of our mental states."

"Darling?" Damian looked at Felix for confirmation.

Felix nodded as well. "Better than Marinette shoplifting it off the shelves."

Three

Marinette looked at the scattered pieces of the shelf around them. She was one second away from crumpling up the instruction manual on her hand. When she looked to her side, she saw that Damian looked just as lost. Damian Wayne, ex-assassin, son of the Bat, and nighttime Gotham vigilante was confused in putting together an IKEA shelf.

"Dami, I thought you'd be good at this," Marinette remarked.

"You have made a complicated contraption as a container for the Miracle box. I thought you would have some expertise in this, habibti," Damian picked up two pieces, looking at them back and forth.

"But that was my own creation!" She waved the manual in the air angrily. "These pictures don't even make sense."

"Alright, I think this piece goes there . . ."

"No, they don't even fit together."

A conceding Marinette laid her head on Damian's shoulder, letting the paper flutter to the ground. He kissed her temple. "Maybe we should ask Felix after all?"

"Noo, we can't do that! He's still sick. We have to let him rest." She brushed her bangs from her face. "And if we ask him for help he'll tell us 'I told you so'. Do you want to give up your pride that badly?"

Damian chuckled. "Yes, we cannot let him win." He snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Though I am willing to bet that he is worried out of his mind that we will wreck the entire apartment just trying to put together one shelf."

"Well, you're here to keep me from hitting myself with a screwdriver and tripping all over the floor, so we're not going to damage the apartment." She paused. "I think."

They looked up to see Felix coming out of the bedroom, hair tousled in an adorable style as he sneezed into another tissue. He took one look at them and then at the disarranged pieces on the floor.

"Need help?" he asked.

Marinette shot up to her feet, nearly stumbling if Damian hadn't caught her. "No! We're fine here! We were just taking a break, I promise!"

"Uh huh."

"You do not need to concern yourself with this, darling," said Damian.

Felix heaved out a breath, sniffing a little. "I knew this would happen. I won't go back to bed until that shelf is complete."

"Fine, let's get you some soup then you tell us what to do while you stay on the couch," Marinette suggested. She made a beeline to the kitchen as Damian grabbed a blanket for Felix.

"I hope you get better soon." Damian pecked the top of his head. 

Taglist: @tinybrie @the-coffee-fandom

On AO3

[kamilah-is-queen]

Sub Kamilah

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Amy Parker)

Warnings: NSFW, g!p Kamilah, daddy kink, some descriptive language

Tagging: @ta-sayeed, @kamilahtopme, @nydeiri, @genietotherescue, @rhonda-sayeed, @helpconfusedpersonhere, @millasayeed, @vonda-be-real, @livvynka, @queenkamilah, @leenasayeed, @skylarkxxyy, @choicesgrp, @ilove-kamilah-sayeed, @justavampirefan, @iamsimpforpoppy, @friendlybuddy

@rhonda-sayeed’s request for sub Kamilah. I enjoyed playing around with this one.

Kamilah’s POV

“Who knew I, Kamilah Sayeed, known as the Ice Queen to some and a cold, ruthless, iron hearted bitch to others, would finally have the peace of mind to settle down and wed. Because I certainly didn’t. Not before I met Amy Parker, of course…” I thought to myself silently while relishing the cool, crisp waves that splashed at my ankles. But I was happy… happier and more content than I ever thought was possible. Everything in life seemed to fit in its place now. Life was… perfect. Yes, perfect.

Work was good. Busy, but that’s the corporate world for you. Our friends were safe and sound, enjoying their lives for the present. Lily moved to Los Angeles to pursue her dreams in film production, where she planned to make a movie series on us all. I wouldn’t expect anything less from the chaotic one herself. Jax had expanded his Shadow Den into a fully functioning charity, which vowed to help all supernatural creatures alike. Adrian had created a successful career in politics and was running for presidency. His scientific revolutions made the serum a tangible reality, a reality where vampires could again walk in the sun freely. God, how I missed it.

“Bambina, are you alright?” Amy’s warm arms embraced me closely from behind, her chin far from reaching my shoulder as she gave me a squeeze, pulling me out of my thoughts.

With a chuckle, I took her hand and kissed her knuckles delicately, “I am now, habibti.” My gaze fell upon the setting sun, the scenery of the white sandy beach and the crisp blue horizon like a portrait in my mind. “Isn’t it surreal.”

Amy took a while to respond. She reached upon her tiptoes and nuzzled her chin on my shoulder, smiling. “Everything is surreal. Especially us. Being together. And I’m ever so grateful for that.”

I turned in her arms to meet her gentle, loving gaze. “And so will I. For the time that we have now after everything we’ve endured, together.” My arms came to settle around her waist, leaning our foreheads together gently.

With a grin, she pulled away. “Come on you sap, let’s get back to the villa.” With a tug of my arm we were off, sprinting towards the wooden hut in the distance. I couldn’t help but break out in a wide grin as I chased her. Her soft yelps and giggles urged me on, a hearty laugh escaping my chest at the adorable moment.

I closed the large door behind me after a while, soft pants escaping my lungs. “Amy?” The words faded into thin air and nothing but silence.

I looked around the modern, yet rustic villa. “Amy, come on now. This isn’t funny.”

Again, silence.

Finding no success in the other rooms, I approached the master bedroom. Within a second of the door opening, Amy had me pinned down on the bed. “Well, well, well.” I smirked. “Look at you getting all bold now.”

She had changed into a seductive, wine red lingerie that had a neckline low enough to give a tasty view of her bulky chest and was tight enough to expose her curves and accentuate her ass.

“Oh, but don’t you like it sweetheart.” She dragged a sharp nail down my jaw, to my neck, down my throat and towards my shirt. “You secretly love it when I get bossy and sexy like this with you, hm?” Her voice was husky, and coated with lust as she straddled my lap.

My throat became parched. She got me. “How could I not love it, darling?” I replied with a grin as my heart rate started to quicken, and fast. I let her take control as she began to tie my wrists to the bedposts, with a soft silk material. It was easily breakable, but where’s the fun in that?

“Mm, well you’re in for a treat tonight my dearest.” She slashed her nail down my shirt, ripping it in half entirely, exposing the tan and muscled skin below.

I took her lips in mine with a searing, passionate kiss and leaned up on my elbows slightly to meet her halfway. Our tongues tangled in a fight for dominance as I gave in, her tongue quickly overpowering my own. “Well give it to me…”

She began rocking her hips against my hardening bulge, the wet fabric of her panties making the sensation even more heightened. “Fuck…” I watched as she sat up straight, her hands trailing down my muscled abdomen and resting there before she started undoing my belt.

“Look at you Kamilah, mm baby you’re so hard for me…” With a swift tug she tore my cream chinos to the floor, exposing my bulging cock within the black boxers. Amy’s eyes darkened visibly, a sly smirk spreading across her lips as she began to palm me through the boxers. “Isn’t that right Kamilah?”

“Yes…” My head fell back and a soft sigh escaped my lips, a pleasant shiver falling down my spine, “it’s all for you Amy…”

A snarky grin fell across her lips. “Oh, I know bambina. You’re all mine to play with tonight. And don’t you think for a second that I’ll let you off easy.” She kissed the head of my shaft before licking a trail up the underside, where I throbbed visibly with a lift of my hips. “I’ll make sure you impregnate me, Kamilah. I want to be swollen and pink and you’ll do whatever I say so I get what I want. Is that understood?”

I couldn’t help but nod rapidly in response. “Yes yes Amy, fuck… just take me in your mouth already.” Her gaze met mine, an equal mix of love and lust as she went down on my shaft.

I groaned in pleasure and laid my head back once more, “just like that Amy, fuck.” The sensation was just perfect. She pumped me with one hand vigorously as she sucked down harder, and deeper with her plump lips.

The restraints at my wrists tightened when she took me completely down her throat, a slight gag and choke coming from her mouth before she began bobbing her head again. Her groans echoed loudly with the slurping sounds, like music to my ears as I got closer to the edge.

“A-Amy, uhn… I’m so close, I’m so goddamn close. Don’t you dare stop.” My hips bucked up as I tried to meet her mouth better, desperate for more friction.

But she pulled away, the moment before release. “Nu uh, I'll tell you when to cum. Deal?” She grabbed my chin in her hand, gazing into my eyes while licking her lips seductively.

I throbbed at the sight, unable to control myself. With a slow nod, I agreed. “As you say.” She grinned and pulled off her red lingerie, “there’s a good girl.”

My eyes turned to a deep, dark red and my fangs grew from their sheathed spot as I watched her closely. I tugged at the restraints, “let me touch you Amy, I need to baby. Fuck, I’m desperate for you. Ever since we’ve wed I’ve been wanting you to myself like this, baby.”

She groaned at the sound of my husky voice and convincing words, also desperate for friction by the look of her arousal coating her thighs. “Mm, I don’t know… have you been a good enough girl for Mommy?” Her palms slid up my thighs to my breasts, gently squeezing before attacking my collarbone with kisses.

Her kisses traveled all the way to my neck, where they became rougher and more needy. “I don’t know, have I?” I said with a cheeky, knowing smirk that she couldn’t help but die for.

She lifted her head for a moment, her brown eyes catching my own as she pondered, quietly. She bit her lip and whispered huskily in my ear, “I’ll only let you fuck me if you take me from behind. And rough. Please Kamilah, I don’t want you to hold back.”

She slipped the restraints off as she took my earlobe in her mouth, slowly sucking as I shuddered once more.

“Yes, my Queen. Whatever you want is yours tonight, and every night after that.” I quickly flipped us over with a simple move of the arm, and slid a pillow under Amy’s stomach to support her. “Are you comfortable?”

She nodded rapidly, desperate for friction as she nestled in slowly. “Fuck me already!”

The needy tone of her voice flipped a switch inside of me. Suddenly, I couldn’t think about anything else other than Amy and how I was going to please her oh so well.

I grunted softly before wrapping my arm around her neck, mounting her from behind. Without warning I thrusted into her completely, relishing in the shocked whimper she let out at being completely filled.

I steadied my free hand near her head, while tightening my grasp around her neck as I nuzzled the back of her neck, pounding even faster. “You like that baby, don’t you? Isn’t this what you wanted Daddy to do?” I cooed in her ear softly while fastening the pace of my hips.

Hearing her struggle to formulate coherent sentences only urged me on. “Go on Amy. Tell Daddy!” I growled again, louder. My hips slapped against her rear, harder and harder and harder with each passing second.

“K-Kami, oh, I-“

I grew impatient, quickly. I drew dark purple hickies down her from her shoulder to her back, while gripping at the cheek of her ass. “I swear Amy, answer me or I’ll stop.”

I tugged at her tight ponytail and attacked her neck visciously with hard kisses, while slamming my hips even deeper. She let out a long string of strangled moans while gripping the sheets even tighter.

“Fuck, fuck yes Kamilah! This is exactly what I wanted, mmm yes yes yes!”

With a few thrusts more we both fell apart onto one another, exhausted and in awe at one another. Night one of the honeymoon, complete.

[lorebite]

JASON THOTS UNITE

I wanted to say hello and that I LOVE your fics so far 😭 I can’t wait for more!!!

I’m curious, what’s your favourite thing about the HoA characters 😈

Hello! 💖

Firstly, THANK YOU SO MUCH! Your support has been absolutely amazing and it means the freaking world to me. I can't be thankful enough for it. Plus, your fics are so damn great? Like? x

And secondly, well, let me write you a thorough list, why don't I? I'll try combining my favorite traits of them from the game and how I think they'd behave irl. Hope I understood you correctly.

Starting off with Eric. I absolutely adore how gentle he is. He seems like the kind of lover to know how to take real good care of you. His attention to detail is great, so best believe this man will learn your body like a piano, finding all the right places to touch to draw out the sweetest noises. 😉

Nick. This absolute sweetheart of a human being. He's very soft with his partner but also direct. Very clingy if he wants to be, and not the one to shy away from PDA. Physicality is important to him, even in less intimate situations; for instance, he likes having his hand on your thigh during a car ride or up your shirt while watching a movie on the couch. And sometimes, maybe many times, his fingers end up places that leave you breathless.

When it comes to Salim, I really like how he values comfort above everything else. However, this doesn't mean he can't pull through if you drag him out of his shell [as we all have seen]. He likes to try new things and he's willing to learn if you teach him. And I think, he can be a HUGE tease in bed. To the point where you're a whimpering mess, shaking and whining for him to give you more. And, of course, he's going to be all sassy about it, "aw, I didn't know a little kiss between your thighs could get you so worked up, habibti."

And gosh, Rachel. What can I say except that I like my women a little bossy and a little complicated. Sure as hell, she's the one in charge in bed. She's a straight to the point, hammer on the nail, type of lover. Will make you want to be submissive for her.

Last but not least, Jason. Oh, this man will drive you up the wall with his pseudo-macho attitude sometimes. But he's your ruining when he takes the lead. However, if you pull the right strings, he will be completely and utterly at your mercy. Pride thrown to the wind, begging and moaning shamelessly. He won't admit it, but he likes seeing his girl on top.

Thank you for making me write for the other HoA characters. I got really carried away. I loved doing it. Please let me know if this was what you had in mind. 😘

As for the rest of you, will you give us the honors, my fair liege?