#although his face isn’t nearly as nice

[cryptoriawebb]

Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow US followers!

Today I am thankful for my new cute Ladybug doll❤️ I’ve wanted one for years but I’m super picky about faces and didn’t think any of the previous ones looked like her until the movie doll came out. It’s perfect!! Although I do wish she had gloves and actual ribbons in her hair

Ah well. Ladybug is Ladybug and I’ve waited long enough🐞

[kamitv]

Thinking about Toji who…

Is so big in comparison to you.

He’s simply that— big. His shoulders are so broad that when he’s standing behind you, his shadow almost always casts over you. Even if you’re not exactly small yourself, this man is just fucking huge and beefy.

You’d tease him about it too and “joke” about wondering what it’s like to be put in a chokehold by him. He’d probably put you in one too if you asked nicely.

Isn’t completely broke but damn sure isn’t rich either.

He makes enough money to please you. Although his gambling is a bit of a problem, Toji tries to distract you from it by flattering you with occasional gifts that he bought using his wins.

Toji makes do with the money he has. If he’s not gambling it away, it’s 100% going to you to keep that pretty lil’ smile on your face. He’s happy you weren’t hell bent on marrying a rich man and that you accept him for who he is financially.

Has a breeding kink.

For someone who didn’t do much for his children, he was very determined to fuck you full of his cum after seeing how you sweet-talked some little girl on the street. Something about such a small interaction drove him crazy later that night.

Your legs would he dangling over his big shoulders, body folded exactly how he wants you, pussy sopping with every harsh thrust of his hips as he buried his thick cock inside you over and over again— listening to the way you babble his name and watching how your jaw hangs open, eyes rolled back with drool dripping down your chin.

Fuck, you’re a complete mess but he loves it. Especially with the way your cunt spasms around his dick every time he starts talking to you. Toji would have his face hovered right over yours so every breath is shared and the sex is beyond intimate.

Saying things like, “Gonna let me stuff this pretty pussy full of me, huh?” “Yeah? Y’like the sound of that, baby?” “Want me t’make you a mommy? Hm?”

To which you’d just nod along, not against the idea in the slightest but too fucked out to truly respond. Toji would groan at your agreement, heavy balls slapping against your skin whilst his cock splits you open. Huffing an almost desperate, “Uhuh… You’ll look s’pretty walkin’ around with my kid, ma’.”

Is infatuated with your ass.

Toji almost feels as though he shouldn’t go twenty-four hours without feeling your ass at least once. The way the fat fits and molds into his palm perfectly, how soft you are, and the way it’s every movement captivates his attention like a baby with a sensory video is quite amusing.

Even if you didn’t think you had the fattest ass in the world, Toji believes otherwise. He doesn’t care if you nearly fall over every time he slaps your ass as he walks by, hearing the loud smack that follows and the squeal of surprise that leaves your lips makes him happy.

One time, he found you lying on your stomach and saw that as the perfect opportunity to lay his head against your ass, the rest of his body weight rested against your legs and leaving you immobile.

It never really matters what you’re wearing either, he knows what’s under all those clothes so he’ll compliment you on how your ass looks in anything. Though, he will admit that seeing your ass in a tight dress makes his cock spring up.

Would never admit it but is often needy for you.

If you ever call him such a thing, he’ll curse you out while fucking you dumb— claiming to show you just how “needy” he is for you.

He hates when you catch faint pitches in his groans or moans, especially while you’re kissing him. His neck is so damn sensitive, more-so right under his jawline, so whenever your lips and tongue swipe against that area, his throat would vibrate with a deep groan. And fuck if you’re sitting on top of him, steadily rocking your hips against him, you may catch him slipping and he might just whine-

Not that he’ll ever admit he did or does.

Hates when you ignore him.

And you know he hates it too so that’s exactly why you do it.

After any argument, you just go quiet and start giving him those annoying little mhm’s or uhuh’s, clearly not paying attention to a word he’s saying.

Sometimes you ignore him on accident though, not that it changes how much he hates it. It’s usually when you’re working on something or trying to focus and he’ll come talking to you only to receive silence in response as everything he’d just said goes through one ear and out the other.

Typically, he fixes this problem by getting really close to you and talking right against your ear, forcing you to hear every word he’s saying and smiling at the way you find his lips ticklish against your skin.

Forgets important dates sometimes.

He once forgot your anniversary with him and you put him on sex ban for a month. To you, it should’ve been longer but Toji tried his best to make up for his forgetfulness during that month.

Forgot Megumi’s birthday but was happy to have you there to remind him. Again, you scolded him and he promised to work on it.

Doesn’t bother getting jealous.

The fuck is he getting jealous for? You’re his woman. Any man that looks at you doesn’t disturb Toji’s peace, he knows you’ll never leave him (he tells you that you’d be dumb to do so).

If he ever caught someone flirting with you, he’d casually walk up to you and shower you in lewd kisses and touches just to scare the person off. Toji will walk up mid-conversation and grab a firm hold of your jaw, tugging you toward him just to press his lips against yours. After which, he’s dragging his kisses down to your neck, moving a hand to your waist and the other to your ass, silently telling others to fuck off through his touches alone.

Would kill for you.

This should be obvious too. Taking some’s life for you is no different than his job— even though you don’t know much about it…

He may not tell you he’d murder someone for you but if you seemed distressed enough by someone’s presence, Toji will have them dealt with. You’d later ask “Hey, what happened to…” Only to hear that they got into some “strange accident”. But in reality, your lover had disposed of them.

Cherishes you in his own way.

He doesn’t say anything too sappy to you but he does have his ways of showing his love for you.

Toji has a tendency to stare at you, admiring your features and wondering how or why the hell you still put up with him. You’re so perfect in his eyes that sometimes he thinks you deserve someone better and less forgetful or violent.

And yet, every time he comes home— you’re there with that sexy smile of yours and gentle voice that drives him crazy.

Pet names with Toji slip off of his tongue naturally. “You look s’pretty today, doll.” “Love you too, pretty girl.” “I like your hair like that, ma. Looks nice.” “C’mon, don’t be mad at me baby, I can buy you more snacks…”

Loves fucking you from behind.

He’s always bending you over some surface or pressing you against some wall. While, yes, he loves that pretty face of yours, he also loves pressin’ it against the bed as his drills his fat cock inside you.

Toji likes watching the way your ass bounces back against him. He loves looking at the arch in your back, watching your nails scratch and scrape at the sheets, and staring at the way your pussy messily spreads around his cock— such a pretty white ring of cum forming at his base.

He’ll get the whole scene even messier too, spitting down where you’re connected, making his cock slip in and out of you faster so he can fuck deeper. Oh how he loves smacking your ass til’ it’s left with marks, gripping onto your cheeks and just toying with you while he fucks you to tears and incoherent cries.

Then he’s teasing you, “C’mon, throw that ass back on me, girl.” “There ya goo, such a good slut f’me, aren’tcha?” “Uhuh, take my cock baby, jus’ like that.” “Look back at me, lemme see those tears, doll.” “Mhm, feels s’good, huh?” “Oh fuuuck, don’t stop. Keep… Keep movin’ those fuckin’ hips baby, doin’ so good f’me.”

Doesn’t mind listening to you ramble.

You’re a talker, that’s for damn sure. In the beginning of the relationship, he thought he’d grow to hate how much you talk but he actually loves it.

When you talk about your day or any drama that’s happened, he’s happily sitting there listening to every word. Hell, sometimes Toji even makes sassy comments, “Girl, you need better friends.” “You told her off? Type shit.”

And if you pay attention close enough, you may notice how he’s picked up on things you say and started saying them himself. Whatever phrases you often use, you’d catch him using from time to time & you think it’s just the cutest thing in the world.

Would lose his mind if you ever called him Daddy.

You did it one time as a joke and you nearly got pregnant the same night.

A/N: Not proofread— apologies for errors. This is for those that requested! Lastly, UHM HELLO THANK Y’ALL FOR 3K FOLLOWERS HERE? ^.^ y’all are so sweet I’m gonna eat you guys.

[kentopedia]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ BLAME IT ON THE BLACK STAR — hayakawa aki

summary . . . maybe aki’s in the wrong for all the mixed signals he sends you, but it’s your fault for always picking up the phone.

contents . . . f!reader, angst, complicated relationships, smoking, miscommunication, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, ambiguous ending, hurt/comfort i suppose — 5.6k

notes . . . this is my first time writing for aki so pls be nice i’m nervous hdjwjwk <33 i’m not all the way caught up w csm so it might be inaccurate idk

Aki calls you, sometimes, when he’s feeling lonely. You figure, by now, he must have your number memorized, with how frequently your phone ends up ringing. 

Of course, you always pick up, knowing you shouldn’t, knowing it’ll just end up hurting. But you can’t help yourself, really. You’re incredibly weak for a man that you know will never commit his life to you. You learned that lesson a long time ago. 

Still, you’re a fool who refuses to move on. 

Instead, you stand, shivering in the cold in front of Aki’s door, waiting for him to answer it. The lights are off in the apartment — you have no idea where his new roommates are for the evening, but they clearly aren’t there. Aki wouldn’t have called you otherwise; you’re certain he doesn’t want anyone to know about the two of you, save for those that have known since the beginning.  

Heavy footsteps pad across the floor, and then the lamp in the hallway flicks on, illuminating the threshold in a beam of yellow. The door unlatches, opening just a crack, as his blue eyes drift down to trail over you. 

“You got here faster than I thought.” 

“I’m freezing, Aki,” you say, pushing through the door. His palm falls away, rests at his sides. Its only eight o’clock, but he’s already in sweatpants, a loose sweatshirt hanging over his tall frame. Dark hair falls across his cheeks, still damp from his earlier shower. 

“Sorry,” he says, shutting the door behind him. “I was in the bathroom.” 

You don’t reply, and shrug your coat off instead, hanging it on the rack that is now full of jackets that don’t belong to him. But you’re barely able to get it onto the hook before Aki has a palm around your wrist, tugging you towards him, the smell of his body wash and shampoo lingering in a cloud around him. 

A little welp of surprise leaves you as you spin around, nearly falling into his chest. Instead, you collide with his mouth, the heat already settling down on you as heavily as it always does when Aki is around.

He kisses you, long and hard, hungry for the taste of you, his head craned down to meet your height. For a moment, you let him. It’s sweet and familiar, all the things you’ve ever wanted.

In moments like these, you indulge in thoughts of a life where things are different. A life where Aki can greet you at the door, smile when you kiss him, instead of the pensive expression he always wears. A life where Aki doesn’t come home with new scars every few days, where he isn’t hell-bent on a goal you’re not sure he can ever achieve.

That dream of yours won’t ever become a reality, but it doesn’t stop you from savoring the taste of his mouth against your own — how much you’ve missed it, even when you shouldn’t. 

When you’ve run out of air to breathe, you push him away, and Aki stands straight, blinking like he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. 

“Not even going to offer to make me dinner?” you ask, keeping him at a distance. Although you meant for it to sound playful, teasing, it comes off full of a bitter resentment. Your face is probably drawn up into a scowl, even if you can’t see it.

Aki blinks, rubbing his forearm. His lips part, then he shuts them, furrowing his eyebrows together. “You said you were cooking — over the phone, you said you’d already eaten.” 

“Well, at least you remember that.” 

Confusion spreads even further, tighter, stretching to every corner of his expression. Aki’s hands twitch listlessly at his side, just as his mouth does. “Are you upset with me?” he asks, and you know he’s smarter than that, that he might not be the most sensitive to others’ emotions, but he is certainly no fool when it comes to yours. “If you didn’t want to come over tonight, I wasn’t forcing you.” 

A laugh almost escapes you — instead, you muster up a cool grimace. Like you aren’t going drop everything for Aki every time he says I don’t want to be alone tonight. 

Really, it was laughable how tightly he had you in the palm of his hand, and you can’t fathom that he would think otherwise. You’ve always done whatever he needed; given him whatever he wanted. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in the hospital?” you ask finally, swallowing back your annoyance as you gesture towards the bandage around his arm. It’s wrapped up tight, but the bandages are fresh, still a starched white. 

His eyebrows tighten further. The air around him changes, even though his expression doesn’t. “Who told you about that?” 

“Himeno.” 

Aki purses his lips. “I didn’t realize you two were friends now.” 

You did laugh then, shaking your head as you make your way into the living room, looking for any subtle changes in his apartment. There are new pairs of shoes that certainly don’t belong to him, a sweatshirt that looks about two sizes too small. 

“I wouldn’t really say we’re friends,” you shrug, not bothering to look at him. The air in the room is somehow off-putting, and you take it in like it’s the first you’d ever seen of the place. “But how else am I supposed to find out if you’re still alive?” 

You give him a sad little smile, and slowly, the irritation seeps out of his face, his shoulders slumping. He looks tired, then — far too old for a man that is still so young. 

“It wasn’t that serious. I’m fine now, aren’t I?” Aki gestures to his arm, flails it wildly, as if to prove it’s still working properly. “Just a scratch.”

“It is serious. It’s serious to me,” you say, narrowing your eyes, and though his tone is warmer, he doesn’t smile at you, not like he used to. He maintains a vague air of surprise, while dampening any emotion that could cloud over his lack of understanding. It annoys you to no end, that he won’t let you see him.“I’m always worried about you, idiot. Don’t act like you don’t know how I feel about you.” 

Aki blinks, then draws his lips together in a thin line, shaking his head. Although you were pointedly avoiding each other’s gazes, you could feel the tension drawing you together like a cord. 

God, you missed him every time you were apart. You went to your regular job, thought all day about the man who would never love you like you loved him, wondering if he was okay, if he’d pick up the phone and call you again next week. Or if, one day, it would be Himeno instead, telling you that you’d never see him again — or, god forbid, Makima, with her careless tone of authority. That thought alone haunts you even with your eyes open.

But for now, it’s still Aki who calls you, and every time, you are overwhelming relieved to hear the sound of his voice again. Heavy tears always drop down your cheeks as you dig the phone into your ear, wishing that it was his mouth there instead, and wishing that those pretty blue eyes still looked at you with the same sort of softness they once had. 

“I told you…” Aki begins sharply, but then he trails off, finally meeting your gaze. His features pinch once more, melodramatic, as he scans the sadness that you could never hide in your expression. “Damn it.” Car lights flash over his face through the window as someone drives past the apartment complex. The darkness of the room becomes even more evident when they disappear.

“I know,” you say, resigned, as you watch him scrub his hands over his face, and inhale heavily. It’s hard for you to keep your emotions from getting the best of you. “You’ve reminded me — many times. I know this doesn’t mean we’re back together. I know, Aki.”

His jaw parts, lips faltering at the beginning of a phrase. Despite his tall frame, he falters, looking so small, as sadness filters into the eyes that shine a deep navy in the shade of the evening. Beside him his fingers twitch, curling up into his palm, before he takes two long strides towards you. 

The mere second it takes him to get there passes without your memory, and your back hits the door to his bedroom, softly, as he looms over you, fingers brushing your cheeks. 

A thousand times you’ve been in this position, and it’s so familiar that your hand reaches up instinctively, splaying across his chest. Aki’s breaths leave him, deeply, expanding through his lungs before he exhales them across your cheekbones, oxygen splitting at the bridge of your nose. “What’s wrong?” you ask quietly, blinking up at him from under your lashes. 

“That’s not what I meant.” His voice comes out on a hoarse whisper.

“Hm?” You dig your fingers into his sweatshirt, the material thick and warm. “What did you mean?” 

Tenderly, his thumb brushes across the hollows of your cheek, the sharp bone that juts out. Aki’s fingertips are so rough and calloused, but that familiarity brings a sob out of you, your hands springing up to grab his wrists. “That I’m not fooling anyone,” Aki says, swallowing, eyes roaming all over your face. “That I can’t stay away from you, no matter how hard I try.”

Your lips part, but your breath is stolen away by another kiss, blanketing your mouth, warm and with an emotion that you’re certain you can taste. It takes you less than a moment for you to close your eyes, to relax into him as always, melt into his familiarity. The taste of the cigarettes he smokes lingers on his tongue, seeping deep into your own lungs. 

As he bumps his nose with your own, you reach up, run your fingers through his hair, untangling all the knots that have accumulated since his shower. At the same time, Aki palms at the door behind you, not bothering to look up as he fumbles for the door handle, slipping it open.

Aki always kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever do it, struggling to unglue you from himself. He kisses you like he knows he’s going to leave again, and it might be for the very last time. 

It’s a sickening emotion to live with, but you’ve accepted it all the same. 

You ignore the feelings that never leave you alone when you’re with Aki, and stumble backwards into the room, feet catching under you. Although you nearly fall, Aki catches you, arms heavy around your waist, large palm spreading across your lower back. 

“You’re so pretty,” he says, nearly carrying you to his bed. The two of you latch so tightly onto the other, that you will surely go tumbling down if either of you makes the wrong move. “I’ve never met anyone as pretty as you.” 

“Aki,” you mumble, shaking your head. “I don’t want to hear that.” 

He stumbles, and you do fall onto the bed, then, his heavy body on top of you, landing with a thud. But he’s careful to catch himself, to tuck his arms into the space beside you, as he kisses across your cheeks, down your neck, to your chest. 

“Why?” he asks into your skin, voice low and rough. “You don’t think you’re pretty?” his tone is dry, sarcastic. Aki’s fingers fumble with the zipper on your jeans, slipping your pants off faster than you can inhale a fresh set of air into your lungs. “Want me to prove it to you?”

Despite your lingering resentment, you crack a smile, shift your hips so he can pull your bottoms off completely. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll fall in love with me again?” you say off-handedly, running your hands along the edge of his shirt, before slipping cold fingers under it. His skin is hot there, abdomen soft, muscle just as lean as it was last week, but stronger than when you’d first met him. 

Aki’s eyes soften. “Why would I be afraid of a thing like that?” 

You don’t like the double meaning in his words, and you don’t want to read into it. Instead, you pull Aki back down to your mouth, hoping he’ll take and take from you, even though he’s always one to give. The one who calls you, who needs to be inside of you, but won’t worry about himself until you’ve come apart at least once. 

“Feels like it’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he says, pushing your thighs further apart, muttering the words against your lips. His fingers graze the outside of your panties, as you slowly begin to wet them with desire that burns hot in your stomach. “I missed you.” 

You feel his smile curl as he kisses across your chest, around your collarbones, and you sit up far enough to slide your shirt off. Aki does the same — there are fresh scars on his body, healing wounds. You can’t look at them for too long, before grief rises up in you, mourning a man that is not yet dead. 

“Whose fault is that?” you ask bitterly, pushing the top of his head to sink him to your thighs. Instead, he takes his time pressing his mouth around your belly, swirling his tongue just past your hips. 

A sigh leaves you, and you sink deeper into the mattress, eyes blinking closed. He’s so slow, so deliberate with every movement, like he’s been waiting all of this time just to lose himself in you. Ridiculous, really, considering that he could have you at anytime, and he knows it. 

You’d hate him for it, for stringing you along like this, but that would be hypocritical, really. You’re the fool that continues to play the game. 

Aki ignores your passing comment, squeezing your thighs as his face drifts down your body. His hair brushes against your bare skin, still a bit damp, but so soft, the scent of his soap so familiar you could pick out the shampoo with your eyes closed. 

“Want my fingers or my mouth first?” Aki whispers into the inside of your thigh, kissing the delicate skin there as he looks up at you from under thick, black lashes. They flutter over his cheekbones, the hollows of his eyes, and he’s so pretty… it’s no wonder you’re so far gone for him. “Since you’re in such a mood tonight, I’ll let you choose.” 

There’s a tiny smirk on his face, and even though you’re about to answer, Aki takes it upon himself to kiss your cunt through your panties, the fabric sticking to your skin. 

“A-aki,” you stutter, caught off-guard, fingers lacing through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. “You didn’t give me a chance to answer.” 

He drags his tongue up your clothed cunt, wetting it even further, so you can’t tell if you’re soaked from his spit or your own arousal. “I picked instead. Like the way you moan when my mouth’s on you,” he says off-handedly, and heat rushes to your cheeks as you stare at the ceiling, still so shy when it comes to his dirty mouth. “No one’s here,” Aki continues, words vibrating against the bone, puffs of air drifting around your sensitive area. “Want you to be loud.” 

A tiny laugh escapes you, but it is quickly stolen by a whimper as he sucks your clit into his mouth through the cotton of your underwear, an old pair that was anything but sexy. Although, you’ve known Aki for so long, been with him for so long, there’s never any reason to try and impress him. 

“Feels good,” you say, closing your eyes as you rest on the pillow. Aki pushes his tongue against your hole, teasing. His fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your thighs, keeping them from locking around his head as you search for more friction. Your chest rises and falls with the heat of your breathing, but Aki doesn’t let you rub yourself against his tongue, doesn’t let you move much, really. “Aki,” you whine, and though there are times when he doesn’t let you get your way, this isn’t one of them.

“So impatient,” he says cheekily, but he slips your panties to the side, your cunt vulnerable to the frigid winter air. You shiver, and he sinks his tongue into you completely, the heat of it warming you as he swirls it inside, spreading you further open with his fingers. 

Your body grows hot all over when Aki thrusts his tongue in and out of your aching walls, your juices seeping onto his tongue. He moves slowly, savoring every moment that you’re in his bed, even as you try to arch into him, speed him up so that you can orgasm faster. He’s right: you are impatient, because it’s been days since you’ve last felt him inside of you, and nothing feels as good as Aki’s thick fingers and cock. 

His nose bumps your clit as he drags his tongue in a thick stripe up your cunt. A moan leaves you, and without thinking, you jerk your hips up, forcing them towards his face. The sound from your chest is so lewd, and you’ll feel shy about how loud you were later, but all you can think about is his mouth on you. 

Aki smiles, kisses the inside of your thigh. When he lifts his head, the ache inside you burns deeper, the sight of him with saliva and fluid dripping down his chin almost too much for you to handle. “Taste so good,” he hums, massaging the skin around your knees, hoisting your calves up over his shoulder blades. “Think you can cum from just my tongue, baby? You’re so pent up, I don’t think you can last much longer.” 

You whimper, pressing your heels into his back as Aki’s tongue resumes lapping up your cunt, long and hot, massaging the most sensitive spots inside of you. You can tell he’s hard, aching as he shifts his hips awkwardly, trying not to press them in the bed. 

Aki picks up his speed, head bobbing slightly as the heat insides of you builds; normally, you would’ve lasted longer, but you can’t remember the last time you’ve even touched yourself, and your most recent orgasm must have been with Aki. 

You don’t tell him when you’re close, but he already knows, sucking harder on your clit as you finally come, body jerking into him, walls spasming. Your eyes squeeze shut, and his name leaves your lips much quieter than he would’ve liked. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Aki says, tugging off his sweatpants, the only layer between you and his cock. His dark hair is slightly mussed from your fingers, the way you’d pulled at him, tried to guide him where you wanted him, even if he already knew. “So easy for you to get me hard, you know that?” His cock is leaking at the tip, desperate for release, and you haven’t even touched him yet. “Just the thought of you spread out like this is enough.” 

A desperate whine leaves you, and you reach behind, unclasping the straps of your bra, the last remaining garment between you and Aki. He grins at that, his canines so sharp, teeth a little crooked, but the prettiest smile you’d ever seen because you see it so rarely. 

“Gonna play with those pretty tits while I fuck you, baby?” 

“Fuck, Aki, please,” you groan, reaching for him, pulling his mouth to your own. You kiss him hard, hoping that he knows you love him, and hoping that he feels guilty about that fact. “Want you inside me. God, I need you so bad.” 

He presses his forehead to your own, lining his cock up with your entrance, the head prodding at your gaping walls. You get so sensitive, even from just one orgasm, that you wince a little bit. But the uncomfortable feeling eases as he presses into you, kisses you sweetly.

“Fuck, fuck,” Aki groans, biting down hard on your shoulder. “God, you’re so wet, so warm. You feel so good around my cock, baby. Such a pretty girl for me.” 

Your nails dig into his back as he slides, slowly, out of you, before he thrusts back in, still not rough enough for your liking. Aki’s hair falls around his face, his mouth parting just a bit, focus dilating his irises. His biceps flex as he holds himself off the bed, snapping his hips into your aching cunt. 

“H-harder,” you mumble, trying not to shout, to moan too loudly into the open air of the evening. Aki’s walls are far too thin, and his neighbors know who you are. The last thing you want is for them to see you as Aki’s fuck-buddy that moans like a bitch in heat. “Please, sweetheart.” 

Aki groans, a deep sound that reverberates all the way from his chest down to his stomach. The affectionate name twists something up in him, and Aki thrusts his hips faster, kisses your forehead, your cheeks, any part of your skin that he can get his mouth on. His hair tickles your jaw, nose nudging against your face as he mumbles into your skin, “so needy, aren’t you? I want to take my time with you, and you just want to get off.” 

“Can’t help it, Aki,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut tight as you buck your hips upward. “God, you feel so good, I lo—”

You stop the words from leaving your mouth, but Aki already knows. He’s known it for a while now, and you should be embarrassed by the fact that you can’t let him go. 

Wide blue eyes stare back at you, full of something you can’t define, but still so soft as he pulls away. He draws you closer, slides your legs around his hips before pinning your own to the bed with large, heavy palms. Aki’s built with all lean muscle, and he’s so tall — so much taller than you that it’s easy to forget because he treats you so gently. Still, he blankets your body, makes you feel small in the nicest way. 

Because you know that even though he can never commit his love to you, he’d never let anything — human or devil — lay a finger on you. You love him, you love him, you love him.

Aki follows your wishes, sinks faster inside of you as you exhale heavily. Your nails dig into his back so tightly that you start to worry you’ll break the skin. But Aki loses himself in the feeling of you, panting into your chest as he moves his hips. 

“F-fuck,” he mutters, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m not going to last long inside you like this. Maybe I should slow down—”

“No, no, I’m close,” you stumble over your words, meeting Aki’s intense eyes, a thousand emotions relayed in them as he blinks at you. “It’s okay.”

“God,” he mutters, whispers the word between you, even though you’re certain he hasn’t believed in him for a while, and you’re not sure you do either. “I don’t deserve you.” 

You wonder if Aki meant to say that at all, so you let it go, let the words exist between you as if they were never there at all. 

His palm guides it’s way across your stomach, the touch featherlight, before he reaches for your breast, thumb flicking across your nipple. The nail catches, and you moan, almost there once more. Aki’s cock hitting all the right places, so much better than your own fingers.

“Aki,” you say his name over and over, your mind going numb from thinking about him. 

“I know,” Aki mutters against your lips, hot air ghosting across them on his exhale. “You’re okay. Let go for me, baby. Did so good for me, want you to cum on my cock.” 

His voice, so deep and rough in your ears, sends you over the edge, and a sound forces its way up your throat as you clench down on him, your cunt spasming from your orgasm. It hits you harder than you’d been anticipating, legs squeezing around Aki’s hips as you dig your toes into the mattress. 

“There we go,” Aki wipes your hair away from your face, kissing your temples, so gently that you think you might cry. It’s not fair for him to be so sweet, so loving when you know he’s going to kick you out of his apartment before the night is over. “My pretty girl. Shit,” Aki mumbles, cursing lowly before pulling out of you, quick, and spilling into his palm. It takes him less than a stroke down the length of his cock, the thick cum spurting out, falling onto your hips, beside you on the mattress. 

It’s not your mess to clean, though, and you can’t bring yourself to care. Breathing heavily, you watch Aki fumble for something on his nightstand, before he gives up, wiping his wet hand on the already soiled bedsheets. Then, he collapses down onto his side, staring, watching your chest rise and fall. 

“Aki,” you say, turning away from his eyes to stare at the ceiling, the cracked plaster, stained from water leaks. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

Silence falls across the room, and you can’t bear to look at him, refusing to see the indifference on his face. There’s nothing, he says nothing, before sitting back up, shuffling through the nightstand once more. 

The beams of streetlights sway against his silhouette, encased in a beautiful swirl of purple and navy hues. His hair seems an even darker curtain, coiling around his jaw as he hides from you, hides the emotion that was less than evident on his face. 

You sigh, and flip back on your side. 

Aki takes a few drags of the cigarette, puffing them into the stale air. It reeks, probably, in the tiny bedroom, but all you can smell is the tangy scent of Aki’s soap, the lavender that lingers on his skin, the cleanness of the linens that have been recently washed. This apartment, sometimes, feels more like home than your lonely one does, even though being with Aki is almost like being on your own, sometimes. 

“Those things are going to kill you,” you say under your breath, still fascinated by the way the smoke draws deep into his lungs, puffs out in a cloud, relaxes him easily. His veiny palms flex, long, slender fingers holding the cigarette between them. 

Aki doesn’t laugh, but it’s close to one, a snort almost, as he breathes again. “Not like I’ll be alive much longer, anyway.” 

“You sound like Himeno.” 

“Do I?” 

You sniff, and scoot up against the wall, sitting beside him. Despite your argument, you take the cigarette from him, smoke it yourself, and place your lips around the exact place where Aki’s had been. He watches with the same rapt fascination, blinking slowly, before staring at the ceiling as you had before. 

It’s Himeno he should be with now, really. Another Devil Hunter. A woman he can fuck without getting his feelings all mixed up, someone who probably understands him better than you do. He’s never loved her like he loved you, and she wouldn’t take offense to it either, you think. 

But it’s you he calls instead. It’s you who is too weak to leave.

“I’m sorry,” Aki whispers.

“So am I.” 

You reach across him, press the cigarette into the ashtray and drop what’s left of it amongst the other ends. Aki’s fingertips dance along your spine as you do so, and you wish he wouldn’t touch you, wish he’d just kick you out of the bed, toss you out of the apartment, spit at you like you weren’t anything but a whore. 

Instead, he kisses your shoulder, draws you in close, curls his tall frame around your body, and drags you back down into the bed. 

It hurts more than you want to admit, because this is what you want. You’d truly go the rest of your life, never have sex with him again, if he’d always hold you like you meant something to him. 

“I need to go home,” you say, remembering that you still haven’t eaten dinner, that you’d left your things in disarray, your clothes unfolded on your bed. There was never a reason to before, because with Aki, you’d always go home, just before the last train. You’d be tucked into your bed that same evening after a nice shower. “Aki…” 

“Stay.” He kisses your collarbone and shoulder again, throws his thigh over your own, and traps you against his body. “Please stay. You can wear that T-shirt of mine you like so much. I’ll make you breakfast. You can meet Power and Denji, and then I’ll take you home tomorrow morning.” 

You swallow, damning your weak-willed heart for succumbing so easily. Fingers curl around his wrists as you bask in his embrace, how warm he is, despite normally running so cold. “Aki,” you whisper again, tears welling along your eyelashes. “You can’t do this to me. Please don’t do this to me.” 

“Do what?” His voice is just as quiet as your own, and he’s still kissing you, holding you like you’re something precious. But he is surely not that stupid about your feelings, to how he has been tearing you apart for the past year, even though you let him. 

You sniff, trying not to cry, never wanting to embarrass yourself, even if you have sobbed in his arms on numerous occasions. “You must know that I love you. I’ll never stop loving you. Even if I marry someone after you die, I’m certain your name will still be etched into the chains on my heart. I’m just a stupid, dumb girl.” 

He says nothing, and you do cry, then, tears streaming down your face as you twist away, stare out the curtained window, the thin fabric fluttering from the heat that kicks on. 

“Please don’t call me anymore. Just let me hurt for awhile, so I can get over you. You’re so selfish, so selfish, why can’t I just move on?” You bury your face in your hands, wipe your tears, try to fight against him as he pulls you into his strong chest, kisses the top of your head. Still, even then, even when you want to hate him, you’re putty in his heads, melting and craving the place in his arms that feels like home. 

“I can’t let you go,” Aki says, wiping your tears. “Fuck, I can’t — I need you. Do you understand? I need you, and I know I’m a selfish piece of shit, but I don’t want you to move on.” He frowns, clenching his jaw, twisting his expression up. “I’ll be better.” 

“Aki—”

“I’ll love you like you need, honey. I thought,” Aki scrubs his palm over his face, the other still stroking across your back. “I thought it’d make it easier, all this distance between us, to let you go. I can’t put you in danger, but I can’t stop loving you either.” 

You inhale sharply, leaning your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, committing the harmony to your memory. Who knows how much longer it will be in there, how much longer Aki will allow it to exist before he destroys himself completely. 

“Aki, you’ll never love me like I need, because you’ll always put your work first,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “I realized that a long time ago.” 

He shifts, pushing you away so you could look each other in the eye, the astounding resoluteness in his irises. How serious he was about trying to be someone he was not. “I can try.” 

You sob.

And you wish you could just say no; say no and walk away, forget his name, never answer the phone again, never call Himeno to check up and make sure he’s still breathing. 

But you can’t — it’ll never be that easy. 

Pushing him away, you rest your head back on the pillow, trying to make yourself comfortable as you turn your back to him. Perhaps, the morning will give you clarity. You’ll stay, but you’re not sure for how long. 

“I’m tired.” 

Aki curls against you, rests his arm around your hip, kisses your neck, cheek, temple. “Okay,” he relents, holding you close, chest pressed against your spine. “I meant what I said about breakfast. Maybe we can talk about it then?” 

You want to say no, but you won’t. He’ll kiss you in the morning, and you’ll kiss him back. Settle on your knees and give him a blowjob while he’s still groggy, before slipping on his T-shirt, chattering off his ear as he makes you breakfast. You’ll probably even curl your arms around his stomach from behind, stand on you tiptoes to reach the space between his shoulder blades. 

Power and Denji will come home at some point, and probably say something rude, as Aki says they do to everyone. Then you’ll go home, and you’ll still be in love with him, and Aki will forget the conversation even happened, because he’ll say anything to get you to stay. 

Or, maybe, he’s being honest. Maybe he will love you like you want him to. 

Less than likely.

“Okay, Aki,” you agree, too tired to argue or acknowledge the emptiness in your stomach. “We’ll talk about it in then.”

reblogs appreciated!! thank you for reading!

[verstappensrealwife]

Club Lights - Lando Norris x Reader

fluff, ¿angst?

approx 1200 words

READER IS FROM MANCHESTER + FRIENDS WITH ANGRY GINGE

warnings: mentions of drinking alcohol, mentions of kissing and sex- nothing 18+. I tried to use more speech :s

lando norris masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

Lando was streaming fortnite with Morgan (AngryGinge), Max (F), and Filly, when he said something that caused more than laughter from Morgans end of the call.

“Y/n, god bless her heart, is not my girlfriend.” Ginge had to quickly say before any misconceptions were thought.

“But- I- You were linking arms all throughout the time you were in Monaco?” Lando replied, a look of confusion and disbelief on his face. “Prove she isn’t. Call her right now!”

Ginge simply shrugged and grabbed his phone, scrolling his contacts and landing on you.

It rung twice before your voice- on speaker- was played down Morgan’s mic.

“What do you want?”

“Fuck me, wanna be a bit nicer.”

“No, not really…” There was a pause where no one said anything, “Well what do you want, Morgan? I am busy!”

“I love you,” He was trying to bait you.

You laughed loudly- so loud the mic cut out a few times- “Have you drank? Call your girlfriend not me!” You chuckled before hanging up on him.

Ginge stared blankly at his camera, knowing Lando was watching. “Was that enough proof, Lando?”

Lando ignored him, although very satisfied,  “So~ Who’s your girlfriend Ginge?”

—

A few weeks later, Morgan extended another invitation to Monaco, which you eagerly accepted, thrilled at the prospect of a free trip. Upon meeting up at Manchester Airport, Morgan was relentless with his vlogging, capturing every moment up close—from your reunion at the terminal, to boarding the plane, takeoff, the in-flight experience, landing, and even baggage claim. Every opportunity he had, his camera was practically shoved up your nose.

When Lando arrived to pick you both up, Max was also recording, documenting Lando for his own channel. It was impossible to miss—especially for you—the way Lando looked at you with literal heart-eyes as you stepped out of the Nice-Côte d’Azur airport in the south of France.

"Good morning!" you cheerfully greeted, pulling your suitcase behind you with a coffee in hand.

Lando could barely muster a response, causing Max to chuckle behind the camera. Lando's attention was entirely on you during the drive to the hotel, to the point where he nearly crashed.

Your hotel room was charming, featuring a large bed, a stylish bathroom with a huge mirror, and a lovely view of the Monaco streets.

Unsurprisingly, Lando was quick to offer his assistance, suggesting he come up to your room to "help unpack and whatever."

You smiled gratefully as Lando heaved your 15kg case up the flight of stairs to your room, his muscles straining with the effort. "Thanks, Lan," you said, flashing him a warm smile. "I really appreciate it."

"It's nothing, I'd do it all over again for you," he replied, a deep blush creeping up his neck. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "You don't have a boyfriend, right?"

You shook your head, no, and a heavy silence settled between you, tinged with disappointment that he didn't continue to speak.

Lando began helping you put your clothes into the wardrobe, his hands moving deftly until he reached your underwear. Suddenly, he seemed paralyzed, his eyes darting around the room, trying to look anywhere but at the intimate garments.

"Lando, I googled you. I know you're not shy about seeing people's underwear," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

"Hey!" he retorted, his face flushing even redder. "You shouldn't believe everything you see!"

You gave him a pointed look. "You believed I was sleeping with Morgan..."

He huffed in frustration. "Rightly so... I mean I would—" He abruptly stopped, his words hanging in the air.

"What, you'd sleep with Morgan?" you laughed, but the humor faded as you saw the mortified expression on his face. Lando looked utterly flustered, as if he wished the ground would swallow him whole.

You stopped laughing, suddenly aware of the tension. His eyes were wide, nervous, and embarrassed, almost traumatized by what he had just admitted... out loud... in front of the girl he was clearly talking about.

"Oh, right," you said, your voice trailing off. You knew exactly what you wanted to say, but the words caught in your throat. You desperately wanted to kiss him right then and there.

"I—sorry—erm," he stammered, his voice shaky. "I'll talk to you later."

He moved faster than the cars he drove, practically fleeing from your hotel room, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind spinning.

Later that night, Morgan waited outside your door, poised to dive into the allure of Monegasque nightclubs. You adorned a stunning, shimmering top paired with elegant black trousers, exuding understated glamour. Sharing an Uber, the anticipation built, though Lando was initially nowhere to be found. However, Max had secured a booth, complete with a large pitcher of an enticing orange cocktail, surrounded by a few unfamiliar faces.

One drink in, Lando sauntered over and playfully collapsed into the booth beside you. His hair, slightly tousled, added to his charming dishevelment. Clad in a simple jean-top combo and a watch that undoubtedly cost more than your annual rent, he exuded effortless style. The club thrummed with energy, the pulsating strobe lights and the dance-club remix of Nelly Furtado's "Say It Right" filling the air.

Lando's drunken smile was captivating, his eyes locked onto yours, his skin aglow under the club lights, making him look irresistibly beautiful. "Hi," he murmured dreamily, patting your thigh a few times before resting his hand there.

"Y'alright, Lan?" you asked, amused.

"Y'alright!" he mimicked with a laugh. "I love your voice, your accent, and your face. Such a beautiful face," he slurred.

You laughed, "How many drinks have you had?"

He widened his eyes in response, silently conveying the answer: "a lot."

While the table engaged in lively conversation, Lando's attention remained on you, murmuring your name just to gaze into your eyes, often letting his eyes drift to your lips.

"Why don't you like me?" he suddenly whispered in your ear, his face inches from yours.

"I like you," you replied, confused. He frowned, indicating that wasn't what he meant. "Yeah, I like-like you. I've never said I didn't."

"Like... like you'd hold hands and kiss me?"

You smiled, "Ask me when you're sober."

The next day, you woke with only a slight nausea, the remnants of the night before. As you stepped out of the shower and dressed for the day's filming, a knock echoed through the hotel. Opening the door, you found Lando, holding a bouquet of lilies, a bright smile on his face.

"What are you doing—and how are you not hungover?" you asked, surprised.

"I drink green smoothies... Anyway, I'm here to officially ask you on a real date," he declared, "with me. Right now."

Taking the lilies from his outstretched hands, you nodded. "Yeah—let me dry my hair first, bu—"

Before you could finish, Lando grabbed your wrist, pulling you out of the room, quickly snatching your keycard from the table and shutting the door behind you. "You look beautiful, and I cannot wait any longer to not see you on a date with me. So, we are leaving. Now."

You groaned, feeling the damp ends of your hair.

"Lando!"

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico really fucking hates capture the flag.

Well, not always. Last week was fun. Last week was the annual Everyone Against The Stolls (to atone for their crimes), and Nico got to chase Connor around at top speeds, cackling, committing his shrieking and begs for mercy to memory. That was nice. That almost made him forgive the fucker for digging a trench under Nico’s unwelcome mat for him to fall into at seven thirty in the godsdamn morning.

But tonight’s game is boring.

He’s been standing, alone, at the base of the flag for the past forty bajillion hours. He’d raised a few dozens skeletons to spar with at first, since animating them to fight himself isn’t technically against the rules, but that got dull fast. (It isn’t much fun sparring with a partner who doesn’t have a brain. He already has to do that enough with Percy when he comes to visit camp.) He’d climbed the various trees around the clearing, or at least he tried until he got reamed by the dryads for climbing on a manner that was too annoying (?), and tried his hands at a few summoning spells. Nothing held his interest long.

And now he’s just standing, doing nothing, and he’s not allowed to leave. He has to stay in this stupid spot on the off chance that someone comes stumbling over to fight him for the flag.

“You’re our best swordsman, she said,” he says mockingly, beaming the nastiest vibes he can manage in Piper’s vague direction. “We need you on our defensive line, she said. Nyeh nyeh nyeh.”

His checks his watch. He groans. He looks critically over the grass, looking for a softer patch, and when he locates it he throws himself dramatically upon it, groaning louder.

“This sucks!” he yells, to no one.

“Will you shut up!” shouts back the dryad he pissed off earlier. “For the love of photosynthesis! Fuck!”

He bites his tongue hard to hold back laughter. (If he can avoid getting his entire cabin overgrown with prickle bushes again, that’d be great.) “Sorry,” he calls, trying with everything he has to sound contrite. Convincing his father to fight the Titan War was easier, actually. Acting is not his calling.

“Hmph!”

At least listening to see if she’ll come out and yell at him again provides something to ease his boredom. Yes, he’s going to regret bothering her, but in his defense, solo guarding is cruel and unusual punishment. He’d rather sit by an outlet with a fork and see if he can poke and let go fast enough to avoid dying. That at least would be interesting.

A rustling of leaves recaptures his attention, and he pauses.

“Holly?”

When no one answers, which is odd because she’s taken every opportunity in the last hour to either insult him or pelt him with stones, he lifts his head.

“You’re not going to scare me, dude. I had my fear glands surgically removed to become a better soldier.”

Not true. Obviously. But a fun bonus of being the camp weirdo is that no one doubts anything he says. He’s working on convincing everyone younger than him that he needs weekly tributes of chocolate delivered to his door every Friday or the dead are going to take over the world. So far, it’s working.

“Look, Holly, I’m sorry about the zombie, okay, I promise it didn’t mean to sneeze part of its brain on you —”

The rustling sounds again, only this time Nico can see that it’s not Holly’s tree, and in fact she is nowhere to be found. Alarmed, he jumps to his feet, shifting so he’s balanced on the balls of his feet, poised to attack. Is Piper’s plan failing? Has someone actually managed to make it all the way over here without getting (gently, probably, although they lost the last game and Piper gets cranky without dessert) maimed?

The rustling sounds for a third time. This time, an armoured someone stumbles out of the underbrush, tripping over their own foot and nearly landing flat on their face.

Nico has his sword at their throat in a millisecond.

“Wo-oah, Morbius. That’s probably my least favourite sword you could stab in me.”

Nico goes bright red. “I have never wanted to stab you more than right this second.”

Will, chest plate skewed to the right, quiver completely empty, and black paint smeared under his eyes, snickers. He puts a finger on the tip of Nico’s sword and pushes it away from his neck.

“The opportunity was right there, babe. I couldn’t not.”

“You really, really could. In fact at all times, you should remember these words of wisdom: shut up.”

“…Damn. Inspiring.”

Nico rolls his eyes, but the effect is somewhat lessened by the smile on his face and the obvious pleasure in his expression. He’s even feeling merciful enough to accept Will’s kiss, although his sword keeps a good amount of distance between them. (Will’s on the blue team, after all. It would be unprofessional to be fraternizing with the enemy.

…Well, too much, anyway.)

“What’re you doing here? You’re supposed to be with the other archers, sitting in trees and causing havoc.”

Will shrugs, grinning lazily. “I quit. This game is senselessly violent and I’m Against It On Principle. I’m a pacifist, you know.”

“Uh huh.” Nico raises an eyebrow. “I assume this doesn’t count you choking Cecil out in a headlock, this morning.”

Will opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. He closes it again.

“Cecil is my mortal enemy,” he grudges after a moment. “He doesn’t count.”

“‘Course not. Not like you cried for two hours when he went to visit his mom last weekend or anything.”

“Will you — stop saying I cried. I barely teared up, okay. Barely.”

Nico can’t quite force down the stupid grin that pulls across his face, matching Will’s, nor can he resist grabbing the leather straps of his boyfriend’s armour and hauling him close.

“You better not be here to distract me,” he mumbles, leaning close and pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Will hums, settling his hands on Nico’s hips.

“Nope. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Drama queen.”

“Excuse — I am the least dramatic, I’ll have you know. I’m a pinnacle of solemnity. I am a shining beacon of stoicism. I am — mmfh,” He trails off. “Okay, doing this now, mhm.”

Nico smiles triumphantly into the kiss. Will, he has found, is very easy to shut up, despite his long-running nickname of Motormouth. It’s almost like he has an off button that can be accessed only by Nico sticking his tongue in his mouth. Nico is doing his civic duty, honestly. He should be compensated for his service.

(‘Course, doesn’t hurt that Will smells, like, really good, all the time, and his lips are soft as hell and he is actually quite the kisser, in fact. That is definitely a fun bonus.)

He smooths his hands over Will’s shoulders, travelling up the sides of his neck and settling in his hair. Will keens, slightly, when he wraps a finger around a frizzy golden curl and tugs, slightly, when he scratches his nails along his scalp. The rush of power at the feeling makes Nico dizzy, and his sword clatters to the ground as he busies himself with more interesting — and important — things.

Like pulling more of those sounds from his boyfriend’s throat. Or making his knees buckle, again, like he did the other night — gods, that was good, it made Will flush scarlet and Nico feel like he was fuckin’ floating, to have Will so needy and touchy and totally at his mercy —

“Free line to the flag! Go go go go!”

Nico startles, whirling towards the sudden cacophony of noises. To his horror, what looks like half the camp, helmets shining with plumes of blue, comes pouring into the clearing, weapons raised, voices mixing in one long, victorious shout. He lunges for his sword, but before he can grab it, two strong arms tighten around his torso, pinning his hands to his side.

Immediately, he knows he’s been set up.

“Oh, you — fucker!”

He feels the curve of Will’s grin against his neck. “First shower privileges for a whole month, baby.” He noses along his jaw, pressing an apologetic kiss to his cheek. “Couldn’t resist.”

Nico struggles, aghast, watching the once-red flag shimmer in Lou Ellen's hold to a bright, shining blue. “I am breaking up with you, you traitor, you Iago, you vixen — ”

Will snorts. He ducks down and pecks Nico on the lips, again, and again, and then shifts to his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his temples, his forehead, and all over his face, making louder and louder mwah sounds until Nico is laughing, punching his shoulder and shoving him away.

“Okay! Okay. Let me go, you villainous toad. We will discuss how much you’ll have to grovel for my forgiveness after Piper finishes yelling at me for getting distracted.”

Will presses one last kiss to his nose, smiling cheekily before stepping away, heading towards his boasting team. “Enjoy that lecture! Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico rolls his eyes, resting his aching cheek in his hand. “Love you too, asshole.”

[vivalabunbun]

Sweet Sweet Nothings

Summary: The sweet lull of normalcy in an unconventional marriage

Word Count: 7K

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem! Reader, Fluff, this is just pure fluff, Smut, NFSW, MDNI, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, Modern AU, Alpha! Alhaitham, Beta! Reader, breeding, biting, established relationship, TW: Very vague mentions of gender dysphoria (of your secondary gender), TW: pregnancy and birth, Protective! Alhaitham, Jealous! Alhaitham

Authors Note: This isn’t much of a story, think of it as a collection of sweet nothings and domestic life with Alhaitham and the Sumeru cast after this. I just felt like I had to give them fluff after that slow burn. Enjoy!

Teal-orange eyes snapped towards the ticking clock on his oak desk, the time read 5 pm. Alhaitham’s duties were over for the day, now he had more pressing matters to attend to. Swift hands gathered up the papers scattered across the dark wood, stacking them into a neat pile before his body pushed against his plush seat. The golden glint of the ring on his finger only spurred him on to quickly exit his office. 

“Hey! Alhaitham are you leaving work now? Great, how about we grab some drinks with-”

“No. I’m busy.” He bluntly dismissed his blond senior. 

A firm hand snatched up his blazer that had been thrown across the back of his seat, the other flicked off the desk lamp. 

“Oi! Your senior is inviting you to a-”

“If you have a request you need approved then please leave it on my desk, I’ll look over it once I return back to the office on Monday.” Alhaitham skirted past the blond’s still frame at the doorway, paying no mind to the disgruntled scrunch on Kaveh’s face. His mind was focused on more pressing matters. 

–

“And then the brat just WALKS past me as if I were some dust on the ground! Could you believe that?” Kaveh thumps his glass back onto the tavern table, a small splash of wine lapped over the side. 

Tighnari took another big swig from this glass, his ears weren’t drunk enough to handle the tumultuous complaining of the blond. Cyno was only half-heartedly listening, ruby eyes trained on the brand-new deck of cards he had spent the week building in his hands. 

Yes, it is just a typical Friday afternoon. Colleagues gathered at Lambad’s Tavern, congregating at an outdoor table and enjoying the nice wine and early Spring air. Although more often than not, there would only be three seats filled instead of four. 

“Just what is so important that they trifle over common courtesy? In the world of job opportunities, networking and connections are a critical part of getting higher up the chain. Just how did that shrewd man get that promotion?” Kaveh’s face already had the tall tale signs of a drunken glow. 

“Well, it’s not really that out of character for him. People have always found his actions grating, but his efficiency at his work can’t be denied.” Tighnari rested his head on his hand. 

“There’s been a change in the head secretary lately.” Cyno asserted, eyes now trained somewhere else. 

“Oh? How so? He’s the same old crude man.” Kaveh dismissed. 

Cyno motioned with his eyes at a sight just behind the two other men. Two confused heads turned to follow his gaze. Nearly choking on their drinks at the scene they were now witnessing. 

There stood Alhaitham’s towering figure walking hand in hand with yours, bags filled with books and miscellaneous trinkets carried in his other. What made the men uncomfortable was the uncanny softness dawned on the stoic secretary’s face, as his teal eyes focused on you. 

His Beta wife was pressing her body against his arm as she spoke close to his ear, pointing at random stalls and vendors. Alhaitham leaned down to hear you through the chattering crowd, making sure to maneuver your bodies through the bustling streets. 

The three men didn’t know what to make of the scene in front of them as the couple walked out of sight, still holding each other close. Kaveh wonders if the wine being served today was stronger than usual. However, the three unwed men now got their answer to Alhaitham’s sudden full schedule. 

The table of bachelors called for more wine. Maybe to cleanse their palette of the sour taste of jealousy. 

–

“Have you seen Alhaitham today? I’ve been trying to hand him this paperwork since Friday.” Kaveh approached the head lawyer at the water cooler, the weekend was now over and it was now Monday, and the secretary was nowhere to be seen. 

“Hm? The head secretary applied to use his paid vacation time off. It was approved last Friday.” Cyno took a sip from the paper cup. 

“Huh?” The papers fluttered out of the architect’s slack hands, jaw agape. 

His junior truly was trying to annoy him to death. That conniving bastard Alhaitham. 

Fontaine was very different from Sumeru, with different types of foods, shops, and culture. It was quite exciting the first week of your late honeymoon to duck into every shop along the city streets. You discovered that your husband was fluent in the language, anything you pointed at he would translate for you without hesitation. However, the wonder of sightseeing faded within just a few days, like the true homebodies you were, there was a silent agreement to spend the rest of the time in the grand honeymoon suite. 

The hotel Alhaitham booked was the most luxurious one Fontaine had to offer. You will have to blame this decision on the generous amount of financial freedom granted by a pharmaceutical payout. It was only fair in Alhaitham’s mind, you worked very hard during the rut brought on by faulty inhibitors. Hard work should be rewarded, so he decides you should be indulged with the best room service, fancy baths, and thousand-count silk sheets. 

How you spent your time in the suite was really no different than how you would spend it in Sumeru. Alhaitham was laying down on the silk sheets, back slightly propped up by down feather-filled pillows, unwinding with a book in his hand. 

“Ah…Ah!... Ah… Making your wife do all the work while on vacation? You’re such a terrible husband, Haitham.” You stilled your hips, hands propping yourself up along his toned body. 

“Mm? You were really enjoying yourself, I didn’t want to interrupt.” There was a teasing tilt in his voice, teal eyes never looking away from the sentences printed as his other hand rubbed circles into your hip. 

From this angle he reached deeper than usual, making you feel so much fuller. Your walls were clenching down, trembling with pleasure from the stretch and thick tip poking that one spongey spot. A while ago you had abandoned your book in favor of bouncing up and down on your husband’s lap. It was your late honeymoon, after all, there was almost five years' worth of time to make up for. 

You knew your husband was just teasing you, but your lips couldn’t stop a pout from forming. You shifted a bit more on top of his god-like physique, pressing his tip deeper against that sweet little spot deep inside. Wandering hands made their way to grope at his plush pectorals followed by your pouting face, eyes trained on the book your husband was so engrossed by. 

“Hmph…” A displeased huff left your lips, it was absolutely adorable to him. 

“Is something the matter?” The corner of his lip was upturned just the slightest bit. 

“It’s our honeymoon and yet my husband is already having an affair with a book.” You playfully sulked into his chest. 

“My, I never knew my wife was the jealous type.” Finally, he snapped the book closed, playful eyes gazing into yours. 

“I guess you learned something new then.” You gently confiscated the book from his hand, placing it farther away on the large bed. 

Alhaitham gave a hum of acknowledgment, both hands now firmly seizing the sides of your waist. Steadying your body before following it up with a solid snap of his hips. You pressed your face harder against his chest, muffling the moan that was suddenly forced out of you. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted? Why are you so quiet now?” His hips set a rhythm, slow and deep. 

His thick length dragged along your slick walls in all the right ways, you could feel every inch outlined inside you. Each roll of his hips gently lifted your body up before accompanying it back down. Your mouth fell open, breathing out soft moans against his warm skin. The smell of lust hung heavy in the air of the spacious room. But you wanted more, this slow lovemaking couldn’t satisfy the greed deep within. 

“Mmm… More…” 

“More?” His pace escalates just the slightest bit. 

The sloppy sounds of your connecting bodies were louder now, with each in and out of your slick cunt like purrs of pleasure. He was hitting that spot that brings shooting pleasure throughout your nerves. Still, maybe it's because your expectations have been set a bit high from your first taste, but your greed wanted more. 

“More~” You breathed out, face now pressed into the crook of his neck. 

“Mmm, I think I know what my lovely wife wants.” A hand supports the back of your head, smoothing out the hair. 

Swiftly you got turned under him, his board frame now looming above, that handsome smirk on his face. He rested your head gently on the dawn pillows, as your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him down closer to you. The combination of his weight on top of you and how heavy he felt inside your sobbing cunt sent shivers up your spine. Yes, this is what you wanted. 

Leaving the crook of his neck, your lips chased after his. Alhaitham couldn’t help but let out a small huff, you were quite needy today. His lips captured yours in a deep kiss, shallowing all your noises. He shall spoil you, it was your honeymoon after all. 

In this position, he had much better footing and grasp on your waist. Meaning the strength and pace of his hips slamming into yours increased to the rhythm you desired. Moans were flowing out like water from your mouth, eyes teary with lust. The claps of your bodies echo through the room, he would pull out to the tip then slam back in. Just the way you liked it. 

Teal eyes observed your loose face, the rolling back of your eyes signaling that the knot was about to come undone. But before he lets you reach cloud nine, you have to answer a question that he’s been pondering. 

“Would you rather have consistent pleasure spread evenly throughout the year… or four days of nonstop, mind-melting pleasure then nothing for the rest?” Alhaitham asked right up against your ear, making your skin bristle. 

You felt his hips roll back to their slow methodical pace. Oh, he wasn’t going to let you taste sweet release until you paid the toll of his curiosity. Really, your husband can be so mean sometimes. You let out a small whine, trying to roll your hips into his but his firm hold prevented such action. 

“Answer the question, sweetheart.” Alhaitham continued to egg you on, clearly enjoying your displeased whines. 

“Why can’t I have both?” You muttered close to his own ears, tightening your embrace around him to offset the embarrassment creeping up on you. 

At your response his hips stilled, stoic teal eyes gazing at you as you looked away. You didn’t see the smirk that returned to his features. 

“Goodness, my wife is insatiable.” He dragged his length out fully. 

Before you could even let out another whine at the loss, he returned it fully inside of you. Filling out your unexpecting walls again pounding against that spongey patch, making your back arch up and toes curl. 

“AH!” Your body was pressed impossibly close to his. 

“I wonder if I should keep you at home, confined to the bedroom for your sake.” His hot breath ghosted over your ear. 

He was pistoning in and out now, fat tip abusing your sweet spot just the way you wanted it. Your walls were clenching around his girth just like how your arms were holding onto him to ground your sanity. The searing white flashes of pleasure were shooting up through your nerves, the edge was approaching fast. The filthy fantasy Alhaitham was painting in your mind only served to quicken the process. 

“All you have to do is be a good wife, and welcome me home with open legs. How about that?” Alhaitham pressed sweet kisses against your neck, a far cry from the filth that was leaving his tongue. 

You felt his teeth brush against the side of your neck before they clamped down. That was what unraveled the knot inside you. Your ankles hooked together as your hips pushed closer to his. Back arching almost painfully, bodying trembling and eyes rolling back. Alhaitham let out a small hiss at the tightness of your walls contracting. He wasn’t going to last long if you continued to be this impossibly tight. 

He could tell from the way your eyes were still seeing the back of your head you were still in the midst of your orgasm. This meant that Alhaitham was free to chase after his own release now. So he does. His length continues to pound against your quivering walls, pushing through the tight clenches. The extra gush of slick helped to accelerate his movements further. Sloppy slapping of skin against skin, he could feel that his tip was probably red and swollen from his calculated delayed release. 

Pressing his pulsing tip right up against your cervix, the tension inside him finally snapped. Flooding your walls with thick, warm release. Your body instantly responded, walls beginning to twitch and convulse more, trying to milk every last drop. Alhaitham panted against your neck, sucking on the soft skin from time to time as he held your body close. 

“Mmm… Don’t mark up my neck. I brought all these pretty dresses to wear and now I can’t wear anything but turtle necks.” Your fingers tussled through his messy ash locks. It seems like you’ve returned from cloud nine.

“You can just wear them in the room.” He pressed another kiss to your neck. 

Before you could voice your complaints your husband buries your face into the crook of his neck, a silent invitation. Who were you to reject? The sensation of your teeth clamping down onto his smooth skin, leaving deep indentations seems to appease his primal urges noted by the low growl that rumbles in his chest. 

“Would you like to take a bath, habibti?” Gentle finger caressed your face. 

You hummed in confirmation, nuzzling into his touch more. The calm, sweet lull of intimacy washed over the room. Passion satisfied, for now at least. 

“You smell.” Dehya scrunched up her nose. 

You gave a deadpan stare at your Alpha friend beside you. You recently returned from your trip to Fontaine, meeting up with your friends to show them the gifts you had brought back. 

The weather wasn’t that hot today so you definitely weren’t sweating, and your outfit was also fresh from the clothesline. You even took a quick shower before you went to the agreed-upon cafe. You brought your arm up to your nose for a quick sniff, nothing smelled particularly off. 

“I smell normal.” You raised an eyebrow at her. 

“No, you smell like you just rolled around in the forest.” She retorted. 

Now you were confused, glancing at Candace and Nilou. Wait, why does it look like the two were trying to hold back their laughter? What is going on? You just wanted to give them their souvenirs. 

“What Dehya is trying to say is… it seems like you’ve gotten closer to your husband.” Candace rested her elbows on the table as she leaned in. 

Oh. They meant that. A scarlet flush instantly engulfed your cheeks, a silent admission of the truth. All at once you saw the gleam in your friends’ eyes, and they started hounding you for the details. 

The tea served at the cafe was always brewed to perfection and the leaves were of the highest quality. However, your friends were much more interested in the new development of your marriage. 

–

You were drained. You loved your friends, you really do. But spilling the tame details of the budding romance between you and your husband with burning cheeks sure depleted your battery. In a way, they deserved to know, supporting you for over five years throughout the murkier times. 

At the moment, you were curled up on the couch against your husband’s chest. Fingers fiddling with the ring that matched yours resting on his finger, as his attention was trained on the book in his other hand. It wasn’t time for your ritual quiet reading session, so you felt it was appropriate to quietly enjoy some skinship. Alhaitham didn’t seem to mind. 

“Haitham.” You began. 

“Mm?”

“What is your scent like?” You continued to fiddle with his wedding ring. 

“According to your friends, a tree.” His deep voice replied, never once looking up. 

“Mmm.” Your lips pressed into a line, still toying with the gold band. 

You had that look on your face, Alhaitham notes. Demons don’t disappear so easily, even at the start of a new chapter, they will continue to cling to your shadow. If he could, Alhaitham would strangle those devils with his own bare hands. But he couldn’t. So instead, he shall always be there to pull you out from the ice-cold water back to the warm shore. 

He flips the book over, placing it faced down on the arm of the couch. His full attention was now on you as he tenderly grasped your hand, pulling you closer. He pressed his nose against your neck, senses searching through the thick layer of opulent woodiness. 

The faint sweet hints of padisarah pudding mixed with the bath products and laundry detergent you shared were guarded by that layer. The scent that he recognizes as yours, the scent he shares with you. 

“I smell like you. That is the only scent I will recognize as mine.” His teal eyes peered up at you. 

You were silent for a moment, hand halting but still grasping the ring. 

“Pfft. Have you been reading my old novels again?” You couldn’t suppress the small laugh and smile. 

“Did you want me to?” 

“No.” 

You intertwined your fingers with his, rings clinking together, a physical show of a bond. 

Alhaitham rested his head in the crook of your neck, continuing to breathe in your essence. The scent of you always seems to lull him into a drowsy state of comfort. Yet, it wasn’t heavy nor did it cloud his thoughts, so he could always think clearly of you. Yes, this is the scent he adores. 

“Have you been doing something to make my Alpha and Omega coworkers avoid me?” 

“...” 

“What a weird Alpha you are.” You rubbed your cheek against your husband's resting face. 

You’ve been sluggish lately, Alhaitham observed. More often than not, he found himself carrying your sleeping frame back to bed after you fell asleep curled up on the sofa. Book in your limp hands. Your alarm would also be ringing longer than usual, you used to be able to turn it off by the first ring so as to not disturb him from his slumber. You knew he was a light sleeper. 

As he took a bite of the dinner you had just cooked he notes the blander taste. It was your usual style to throw in as many spices as you pleased. It was the start of flu season, and Alhaitham noted the cough that’s been going around in his office. However, he had a different hypothesis he wanted to share with you tonight. He watched as you chewed then shallowed. 

“Habibti, have you taken a pregnancy test lately?” His voice was calm, tone stable. 

Your fork clattered against your plate as you stared at him starstruck, eyes wide and mouth agape. This was why he waited, it wouldn’t be good to have food go down the wrong pipe. He maintained a neutral expression, staring into your eyes to read the emotions that were running rampant behind them. 

“N-no… but…” A furrow formed between your brow as you brought a hand up your mouth. A habit of yours when you were deep in thought. 

The two of you were careful. Pills are taken at specific times. Morning after teas were always in stock around the house, either he brews it for you right after a moment of passion or you would drink it in the morning. However, Alhaitham wasn’t startled. He understands that even with birth control there was always a risk. 

Dinner was swiftly finished, dishes piled in the sink for later, there were more pressing matters to attend to. You were currently in the bathroom with the pregnancy test he had picked up on his way home from work. Alhaitham was leaning his back on the wall beside the bathroom door. He was trying to calculate when you last had your time of the month, or when exactly you began to behave differently. 

The singing hinges of the bathroom door pulled him out of his thoughts. You had that look on your face again. Alhaitham didn’t even need to look at the test in your hands to know the results, two red lines. From how frozen your stance was in the door frame, he already knew what thoughts were running through your mind. 

Children were never planned nor discussed, at the beginning the two of you were much more focused on your careers and enjoying your free time. That is to say, you greatly enjoyed the double income and no kids life. However, there was now a fork in the road. The hands holding the test were now trembling. Alhaitham quickly brought you into a tender embrace, to silence the wild thoughts before they begin to torment you. 

“Whatever your decision may be, I will support it unconditionally. Take your time.” Rubbing a small circle into your back. 

You were silent but your arms wrapped around his torso, resting your head against his shoulder. Quiet reading time was a bit more quiet than usual tonight. 

–

It was now a Saturday night, Alhaitham had already situated himself on his spot on the couch. There was already a book in his hands, but he didn’t open it, he was waiting for you. You usually didn’t take this long in the shower, he was beginning to wonder if he should go knock on the door. But there was no need, soon the soft thumps of your steps were heard coming down the hall. 

Contrary to the usual, you make a b-line straight into his lap, curling up against his board frame. He didn’t say anything, supporting you with an arm and holding you closer. 

“I want to keep the baby.” You spoke softly against his neck. 

Alhaitham closed his eyes, mind going deep into thought. There was more than enough money saved up to support a child. Sumeru has free good quality health care, a great daycare program, and the best education system. The nation offers a generous tax deduction for families with children. There were enough rooms in the house that one could be turned into a nursery, it would be troublesome to have to babyproof everything and rearrange the furniture. 

Ah, the two of you will have to sacrifice your free time and sleep to take care of a needy newborn. However… He opened his eyes. 

“Then we should start making preparations for our new addition.” 

If it’s with you, Alhaitham is more than willing to sacrifice those luxuries and needs. 

Alhaitham had to be more observant, the changes to your body and hormones made it so you were much more sensitive to your surroundings. Foods that were too strong in scent had to be dialed back or not cooked in the house. He also took care to clear the floor of any stacks of books lest your foot knocks into them. 

The worst part of it was probably how the pregnancy was disrupting your sleep. Your body needs it, yet the growing bump and overactive hormones made it hard for you to find a position that welcomed the sweet embrace of sleep. Often tossing and turning, Alhaitham would  place a pillow under your belly which seemed to help a bit. 

Then came morning sickness, Alhaitham is adamant that your child be thankful for all the suffering you were enduring to give life to them. 

The ashen-haired Alpha had been extra careful with his inhibitors as well, making sure each dose was measured to the line and constantly checking the dates printed on the bottles. Still, the clawing of his instincts only grew stronger as his teal eyes observe your bump growing day by day. You were working so hard to carry the child, he needed to do something to make you relax and comfortable. 

–

Currently, your bed has been buried under a mountain of quilts and plush pillows. You had your hands on your hips as your eyes surveyed the messy state of the bed you had just made a few hours earlier. You folded and pack those quilts away weeks ago, why were they back out? 

“Haitham, why can’t I see our own bed?”

“There’s no cause for concern. Your body must be tired, go take a rest.” A gentle large hand rested on your lower back, encouraging you towards the heavenly pile. 

That sentiment from seven years ago still rings true to this day. Your husband is weird. Still, there was a small smile on your face, what a silly sweet weirdo he is. The soft wafts of fresh linen encapsulated your senses, layers upon layers of fabric cushioning your achy joints and growing belly. Gentle fingers combed their way through your hair, making your eyelids grow heavy. 

Were these inherited instincts or learned gestures from old light novels? Oh well, the answer is irrelevant. 

One Saturday afternoon you were rudely awakened by the maddening repetition of thumping. You were now well into your second trimester, the bump on your belly growing steadily day by day, which only meant your sleep schedule only got worse. All your senses have been going into overdrive lately, every bump in the night making your eyes snap open. You groggily rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, begrudgingly rousing your sluggish body from the haven of pillows and blankets. 

By this point, you and Alhaitham had announced to friends and family about your pregnancy, there were many tears of excitement shed that day. Followed by a steady stream of boxes and gifts placed into your or your husband's hands. These items ranged from teas to help with morning sickness to long loose maternity gowns. 

At first, you raised an eyebrow at the shapeless dresses your mother had gifted to you. Stating that they made you look like a lost ghost. However, now with your baby bump, the soft loose fabric felt divine against your sensitive skin. Carefully, pushing off the mattress you took your time gaining your balance. Moving has become troublesome because of your now shifted center of gravity.

Steadying yourself with a hand on the hallway wall you waddled toward the source of the commotion. As you grew closer to the room across the guest room, an extra space that was utilized as a small side library the barrage of noises stung your ears more. You felt irritation creeping up on you. 

Grasping your hand on the door frame you peered inside to see a head of blonde hair. Oh. It’s Kaveh. That explains the noise. 

You quietly observed the back of the unaware man as he continued to hammer furniture together. Your husband had told you earlier in the week that Kaveh would be coming over to help set up the nursery. He mentioned something about the blond having to pay off an old debt. 

Oh well, it saves you and Alhaitham the trouble of rearranging the furniture. 

“Ugh, that bastard has not changed a single bit. Who would choose such an ugly bassinet? His poor child will be welcomed into the world surrounded by ugly furniture.” 

Your lips pressed into a firm line. You had chosen the bassinet when out shopping with your husband. You bought it with your own money too. You thought it was quite cute… It’s cute, right? You waddled off to find your husband. 

“Alhaitham…” Tighnri stood just to the left of the glass door of the small cafe, your favorite cafe. 

Your husband was exiting the door, a small chime from the bell hanging above his head announcing his departure. A brown take-out bag, that contained the padisarah pudding you have been craving for the fourth time this week, clutched firmly in his hand. Alhaitham greeted his fellow colleague with a nod of acknowledgment. 

“I know your wife is pregnant. However, food should be in moderation. Especially sweets. You should know that during pregnancy the change in hormones makes it harder for the body to control its levels of-”

The ashen-haired man raised one hand, signaling for the other to halt their lecture. 

“I acknowledge your expertise and advice. However, time is precious and to save both of ours, I invite you to take this debate up with my wife. To warn you beforehand, you will lose.” 

Tighnari let out a huff of exasperation, steps heading in the direction of your shared home with Alhaitham. Surely you were more reasonable than your Alpha husband at the moment. Tighnari knew it was in their primal instincts to pamper their mates, caving into any demand no matter how unreasonable or troublesome. 

The head secretary has always been a rather level-headed individual in his eyes, sometimes to a fault, so it must just be his instincts influencing his actions. Tignari even heard from a certain blond that the ashen-haired man had given him the deadliest glare because the architect had critiqued your taste in home decor. 

“It’s normal for people to have cravings during their pregnancies, and for the most part, it’s harmless. However, there is a whole misconception about the saying ‘eating for two’. In truth, you only need about an extra glass of milk and an extra pita pocket a day. You are feeding a small-”

Alhaitham stared ahead at the path in front of him, doing his best to tune out the ramblings of the shorter man walking beside him. He had one purpose, and that was to deliver your padisarah pudding to you. 

–

Tighnari was now walking in the direction of his own home, spirit shaking a bit. Like always, Alhaitham’s prediction was flawless. He lost. The defiant blank gaze you gave him at the doorway of your house was enough to make the ebony-haired Alpha stop his clearly unsolicited advice. In the end, you got your pudding.

“That is all I have to report. Now that you have this knowledge, I trust that you will be able to decide if this proposition is fair or not. Here are the files for you to look through.” The ivory-haired Alpha placed the stack of papers on the smooth desk. 

“Understood. Thank you for the report, Cyno.” Alhaitham gathered the paperwork into his hands, beginning to skim through the contents. 

His teal-orange eyes soon left the crisp papers, peering at his colleague with an inquisitive glance. It wasn’t like the head lawyer to remain in his office after he finished delivering his information. 

“Is there any more you would like to discuss?” 

“Yes, I have prepared a gift for your child.” Cyno reached into his blazer pocket. 

Alhaitham hid his sigh. Your home was already littered with so many gifts and baby items, it was troublesome keeping the floors clear of any potential tripping hazards. You were now in your third trimester, slow steps more focused on your balance and the ache in your lower back than paying attention to the floor. 

Your husband wonders if he should have waited until he applied for maternity leave to tell his closest colleagues about your pregnancy. 

“Here.” Cyno handed him an engraved box.

Was this a TCG card case? Alhaitham’s unreadable eyes shifted between the case and the head lawyer’s eager eyes. Really, he should’ve expected this, he is already well aware of the tan Alpha’s obsession with the card game. 

“Thank you.” Your husband took the gift from the awaiting hand. 

“I custom-made the deck to be as beginner friendly as possible. Even still, these cards are staples in the game so this deck will be solid regardless of the changing meta. I made sure to have every card laminated as young children don’t know restraint. The box is also custom-made, it is made from solid wood but any sharp edges have been rounded out.”

“You didn’t have to go through so much unnecessary trouble.” Alhaitham wishes that Cyno didn’t. 

“Since most gifts have been either for your wife or for the child, I have prepared a gift for you as well.” Cyno reached into his inner coat pocket. 

This was unexpected. Your husband observed the tan man pull out a small journal. Stationary? You had already gifted Alhaitham a lifetime supply, but they were for only very important situations. So this could be a welcomed addition.

“I wrote down some of my best jokes for you to tell.” 

Nevermind. Alhaitham didn’t even want to reach for the small notebook. Cyno places it on top of the desk. 

“It’s unnecessary.” 

“It will help pass the time while entertaining your child. Your wife has been pregnant for a while now, it must feel like an maternity.” 

“...”

“Did you not get it? It’s because ‘maternity’ sounds like ‘eternity’ and-”

“I am very busy, head lawyer. Please excuse yourself from my office.”  

 Alhaitham was aware of the concept of ‘pregnancy glow’ from the anatomical journals he read some time ago. However, seeing it in person was much different from what the book had described. Another example of how learning purely from books is not enough. 

You were radiant, features softer and skin glowing. The aura around you has also been much gentler, likely attributed to your constant drowsiness and lack of stress from work as you were now on maternity leave. More often than not, Alhaitham finds it hard to keep his hands off of you.

 Resting an open hand on your round belly, feeling the subtle shifts of your child as he reads. Hugging you from behind as you cook, it’s to support the baby he reasons. He offers his chest as a pillow whenever sleep calls for you regardless if it was on the couch, you needed your rest.

However, there’s a caveat: others can’t seem to keep their hands off you either. 

“Oh! What a strong kick! I think they have real potential for dance.” Nilou exclaimed as she felt your belly. 

“Haha, what a meddlesome kid already. Kicking your poor mommy.” Dehya also had one hand resting a top. 

“It’s uncomfortable, yes, but it’s a good sign that they’re healthy and strong.” You let out a small sigh. 

“Here, have another pillow to support you” Candace placed the soft cushion behind your back, relieving some of the pressure. 

“Thank you, Candace. Even though I’m going to become a mother soon, it seems you’ll always be the mom of our group.” You giggled, giving your friends a wide smile. 

“Oh, you flatter me too much.” Candace chuckled, joining the rest in feeling your round bump. 

Alhaitham sat in your usual spot on the adjacent sofa, trying to read his book. However, his teal eyes couldn’t help but peer over at the hands that were plastered all over your belly. Although his gaze remained neutral, his lips were slightly pressed into a line. Their hands didn’t need to linger for that long he surmises. 

–

“Have a safe trip back!” You bid your friends goodbye, it was nice to have visitors when you couldn’t leave the house easily. 

Alhaitham closes the front door after their figures disappeared into the distance, offering his muscular arm to support you. You gladly accepted, as your feet and joints sang with relief as pressure was shifted off of them. Slowly strolling down the hall back to the living room. 

Alhaitham presses a soft kiss against your temple, a clever diversion from his true intentions. He couldn’t help the frown that formed on his lips or the scrunch of his nose. Your friends had drenched you in their scent, overpowering your subtle fragrance. Tsk, this is why others should keep their hands to themselves. 

“Let's take a shower. Of course, I’ll assist you.” 

“Mm? Haitham, it’s pretty early. We haven’t even had dinner.” 

“I’ll help you wash your hair as well.” 

“Haitham-”

“I’ll massage your shoulders and feet afterward.” 

“... Fine… remember to use the lotion as well.” 

“Of course.” 

There was no reason to be nervous even as your due date grew closer and closer. A room at the Bimarstan has already been reserved. He had already prepared a hospital bag with extra clothes, blankets, and toiletries. Alhaitham also packed some books in there was well. However, as you began to count down the days, it’s hard not to notice the anticipation in the air. You were very much ready to meet your child and to finally not be pregnant anymore. 

“Do you think the child will be more like you or me?” You turned to face your husband as he lay in bed. 

“It doesn’t matter. As long as they’re healthy.” Alhaitham tucks a quilt from the nest up to your chin. 

“Oh? I think that if our child looks like you but has my personality, they’d be quite popular.” You pondered out loud. 

“Mm.” Alhaitham pulls you closer to him from behind, resting his chin atop your head. 

“Then if they resemble you, it's best that they have my personality. Lest our peaceful lives will be disrupted by a constant stream of suitors at the door.” He entertains your musing. 

Your soft giggle jingles through the air as you stroked your belly, his hands soon join yours. A comfortable silence encapsulated the two of you, his soft caresses lulling your heavy lids closed. This was the sweet calm lull of normalcy, and you both were satisfied. 

Alhaitham had closed his eyes, only for them to snap open with the sudden jolt of your body. Did the baby kick again? They sure are disruptive, he can already feel the long sleepless nights to come. However, there were still a few days to stock up on as much rest as possible. 

“Haitham, I think my water broke.” 

Nevermind. 

–

 You were holding onto his hand with an iron-clad grip, crushing his fingers together. However, he knew this was barely scratching the surface of the discomfort you were currently experiencing. If he could, Alhaitham would bare all your pain himself. 

However, he couldn’t so he’ll sit beside you in the Bimarstan, brushing the hair out of your sweat-socked face and whispering sweet nothings to encourage your efforts. You’ve been in labor now for about four hours. Alhaitham has decided that the first thing your child learns to write will be a thank you letter addressed to you. 

You were trying to keep your breathing as stable as possible, practicing the technique the midwife taught you. Put the pain of the contractions always broke your streak, making you have to start from the beginning to try and steady your breath. The midwives and doctors were encouraging you to push as hard as you could. You already were, but you took a deep breath and then held onto it. Giving it your all. 

--

“WWAAHHHHH!” 

A loud, piercing, yet beautiful cry echoed off the walls. 

“It's a boy!” The doctors announced. 

--

“He’s got quite the set of lungs.” You giggled, tears still pooling at the corners of your eyes. Cradling your newborn. 

Alhaitham only let out a gentle hum, resting his head on your shoulder as he gazes at his son. Eyes as soft as the little one’s plump cheeks. It was quite a riveting experience, how can one fall in love with a little stranger so quickly? 

“No more full nights rest for us when we return home, huh.” You rested your head on top of his ashen hair, smiling as you continued to stare at your little bundle. 

Your husband lets out a soft mixture of a hum and a chuckle. He’s already prepared himself to sacrifice sleep in order to nurture this little bond created between the two of you. 

To your surprise and his great delight, your child sleeps through the nights well. A little too well. You had been released from the Bimarstan just a few days ago, the doctors all said your child was healthy. However, you couldn’t help but stare at him as if you were in a trance. 

“Come to bed, your body needs the rest to heal.” His warm touch grasped the sides of your shoulders, as Alhaitham pressed his face into your neck. Trying to lure you back. 

“Yes, I know but… just a little while longer.” You reached a hand up to tussle through his soft locks. 

Your eyes never stopped observing the small ups and downs of your little bundle of joy as he slept. Well, the face he made earlier when you had woken him up for his regular feedings sure wasn’t one of joy. He’s just like his father, grumpy when disturbed from the sweet embrace of sleep. But he needed to feed every three hours if he was to grow up healthily. 

“He’s quite a lot like you. A deep sleeper.”

“Oh? I think he’s quite like you, Haitham. You should’ve seen the mean mug he gave me.”

“I never scowl at you.”

“Yes, but you’re grumpy when woken up.”

“Hmph.” Your husband buries his face deeper into your nape. Teal eyes never breaking their gaze from the child you’ve gifted him. 

The air was quiet, yet warm and sweet. It was well past your preferred bedtime, but strangely not a single muscle felt tired as two pairs of eyes continued to study the small moments of his chest. 

“Should we head to bed now, Haitham?”

“Mm, perhaps a few more minutes wouldn’t make a drastic difference.” 

Fin~

[livlaughloveluke]

plz plz plz part 2 to the loser luke

- 🍒

loser!luke x best friend reader 🫡

(part one)

18+ mdni

warning!- afab reader, porn what plot, no actual p in v, just a blurb, oral (f receiving), best friend to lovers, inexperienced luke although not really that much of a loser (sorry)

“wait, you want me to fuck you?” you asked in a hushed whisper, cocking your head to the side with a look of utter confusion. the bonfire raged on in the background, every other counselor too drunk on cheap vodka to notice how you two had drifted away from the crowd. the subtle taste of cherry lip balm and malibu lingered in your mouth as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip, awaiting a response.

“please! just think of it as helping a friend out,” he pleaded with such desperation that it made you weak in the knees. the annoying sounds of cicadas chirping and teenagers hollering made your headache even worse, confusion and alcohol fogging up every logical thought. how in the world had luke “lightsaber” castellan (a generous nickname given by the aphrodite cabin after he mistakenly wore sweatpants out) never experienced good sex? you heard firsthand how the girls talked about him, and saw how their eyes peered for a smidge too long during training when he was dripping with sweat and out of breath.

“first off, where would we even…” the rest of the words got caught in your throat, adding onto the tension was practically suffocating you. were you really considering hooking up with your best friend of five years?

“there’s plenty of empty cabins. hera’s, maybe?” luke eagerly suggested, eyes widening with hope as his brain buzzed.

“her cabin is practically a temple! are you crazy?”

“everyone does it. it’s hot,” he reasoned, and you let out a sharp exhale of the sticky air. it was such an inexplicably bad idea, with your friendship and potentially your life at risk. but gods, he looked so attractive with the moonlight shining on his features, practically on his knees begging you to have sex with him.

“you swear this isn’t just the drinks talking?” you interrogated as your heart rate unwillingly increased to concerning speeds.

“pinky swear. i need you,” he entreated, the ending morphing into a breathy groan of despair. you looked up to meet his lustful gaze, watching his adam’s apple bob up and down while he swallowed impatiently.

instead of responding, you grasped his hand and nearly jogged to the hera cabin, the gravel from the road kicking up with every step. you barged into the wood building, silently praying no one had the same idea as you, at least not tonight. the door slammed shut and you threw yourself onto luke, teeth clashing feverishly and spit swapping as you cusped his face. his hands sneaked down to the fat of your ass, kneading and grabbing your skin through the thick fabric of your jeans.

“take my clothes off,” you instructed, pulling apart while breathless and greedily wanting more. all he could muster up was a quick nod before kissing you again, his veiny hand feeling around and unbuttoning your pants. tugging on the loops, you wiggled out of the denim and kicked them across the hardwood floor.

like two dancers, you stepped back in sync until you ran into the post of an unused bunk bed. he broke away from your swollen lips, carefully lying you down on the squeaky mattress that bounced as you made contact. luke loomed over your body, eyes darting around frantically as his face flushed pink from embarrassment, a nice contrast to his naturally tan skin. it didn’t take a genius to figure out he had no clue what to do next, so you made sure to swoop in quickly.

“you need to prep me first. like, eat me out or something. do you know how?” you asked, trying to sound calm but failing miserably as you gasped for oxygen. the sickening heat radiating from his body mixed with the summer air and the sexual tension created a distastefully hot atmosphere, beads of sweat adhering to your skin.

luke shook his head shamefully, the whole bizarre situation finally registering in his mind. you, his dream girl, was lying underneath him without any pants, and he didn’t know what the fuck to do.

“s’okay, that’s what i’m here for,” you sent a reassuring smile, hopefully letting him know that he shouldn’t stress. “start by taking my underwear off.”

he followed along slowly, tracing the lace edges and running his fingers over the small, perky bow in the front before pulling them down completely. you slid your shirt off while he waited in awe, his dick growing painfully harder with every second.

“now you just sorta, lick it, i guess,” you tried to explain, unsure of how to word going down on someone. he cautiously kissed up your thighs, his plump lips sending jolts of pleasure and anticipation through your body. landing on your wet heat, he nervously licked a stripe through your glossy folds, his warm breath a good contrast to the cool air circulating from an overhead fan.

looking up from your pussy, he watched as you let out a shaky breath of pleasure and gave him a small nod to continue. he ran his tongue over your folds again, this time brushing over your clit momentarily and coating it in spit. a hungry whine slipped out of your lips as you shifted to support your upper body using your elbows.

luke began to suck the edges, using suction to gnaw at the warm flesh. moving around, he started to rapidly flick his tongue over your most delicate parts. soft moans escaped your throat, installing some confidence within him. he grew sloppy and messier, now full blown making out with your cunt as your juices coated his lips. you groaned in response, the volume of your whimpers increasing with every movement. praises spewed from your lips mindlessly like a water fountain, encouraging him to keep going.

growing curious and more cocky, he slowly stuck his tongue in your soaking hole, causing you to gasp and moan with an unexpected pleasure. his nose brushed against your clit as he curled and flexed his tongue muscles, and that familiar knot in you stomach began to form. you urged him to keep going as your back arched and you tugged his damp curls.

“luke, i swear to the gods— mphm!— ‘m so close, please, please, please—“

the final straw was when he shook his head back and forth, knowing how you would react when his nose rubbed against your core. instinctively, your thighs closed around his head and your grip tightened in his hair as you reached your climax. waves of pleasure racked your whole body, your toes curling and legs shaking. after a few seconds, you realized that you were practically suffocating luke and apologized profusely while loosening your grip. he pulled apart slowly, dribbles of your cum seeping down his chin.

“what’s next?”

[titforatat]

let me remind you (with sweet tears in your eyes)

posted here on ao3.

check out pt. 1! — check out pt. 2!

warnings: nsfw

coryo pov, under-negotiated kink, light bondage, dacryphilia, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, squirting, fingering, cunnilingus, blow jobs, nipple play, pinv sex, coryo just needs to prove that he can fuck you right, overstimulation, porn with feelings, aftercare, simp coryo!

word count: 9,328 (i’m literally so sorry)

summary:

All jealousy is rooted in control. After you visit him at the office, Coryo’s determined to remind you that only he can bring you pleasure beyond your wildest imagination.

excerpt under the cut:

“Well,” Phipps breathes. “Panem’s most beautiful victor, before my very eyes. I never expected such a pleasure.” 

Something clenches in Coryo’s jaw.

You laugh modestly, giving Phipps a neutral smile. “The pleasure’s mine, I’m sure.”

There’s an awkward pause before Phipps rushes on. “I’m Julius Phipps, the Dean of the Academy. It really is a pleasure to meet you.”

Another polite nod from you, along with your own unnecessary introduction. Everyone in the Capitol knows who you are. Coryo understands that, having been the driving force behind it while promoting you for the Games—but being faced with it in the aftermath makes him nearly nauseous with jealousy.

No, not jealousy, he tries to mollify. I have you, and he doesn’t. I’ve had you wrapped around my cock, dripping down my chin, clawing at my skin—not him, not anyone. Just me. 

“How long have you been in the Capitol?” 

Ice crackles underneath his skin. You shoot Coryo a small look and say graciously, “Not very long at all.”

“Well, I hope you’re enjoying our beautiful city,” Phipps replies. “I was gutted when Juno told me you wouldn’t be at this year’s opening ceremony. It seemed, for a while there, that almost no one knew where you were.” 

Coryo’s on his feet suddenly, chair skidding across the floor. It’s loud enough to make Phipps jump. “What is it you needed to tell me, Dean Phipps?” 

You take advantage of the interruption, gathering yourself quickly. “I’ll head back down to the car, then. Tigris and I are stopping by the fabric shop. It was nice meeting you, sir.” You shoot Coryo a plastic smile and tilt your head in goodbye. “Goodbye, Coriolanus.”

Coriolanus. It shoots through him like a bullet, and the grip he has on the edge of his desk goes taunt enough to make the wood creek. 

Before you can fully escape, Phipps reaches out his hand for you. You give him your own, and with a bow, he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

Coryo’s teeth grind together, and he tries to stop seeing the world in red. I’ll have your entire family name disgraced, old man.

“Have a nice afternoon,” Phipps tells you. Echoing the sentiment as politely as you can, you dash out the door.

Like a man with a death wish, Phipps watches you go. When he turns back to Coryo, he has a gleeful look on his face.

“Even prettier in person,” he marvels. “I thought so during the Games, although she looked quite wild at the end.” He gives Coryo a lascivious, conspiratorial look. “That’s a District girl’s charm, though.”

Disgraced isn’t good enough. I’ll see this bitch hanged. 

please check out this fic on ao3 using the link above! 💕

[mysaintkitten]

idek what to title this, i’ve been procrastinating and i’ve been thinking about capa so now we’re here.

prompt: needy reader and needy capa get it on (18+, MINORS DNI !!)

WARNINGS: kind of subby!capa ?? (he’s just so horny), oral (f receiving), veryyyyy temporary mutual masturbation, unprotected sex (p in v)

*not proofread*

it had been months, no, years, since you’d been intimate with anyone. prior to joining icarus II, you weren’t exactly getting too much action. but now that you’re out in space with limited people and a very stressful job at hand? you had essentially become celibate, whether you liked it or not.

it was easy to manage at first. no one on board really peaked your interest— besides capa. he’s handsome, smart, funny if he’s in the right mood, overall not too shabby. and since you had very few others to gawk at, it made capa stand out a lot more.

the harder you started to crush on capa, the more difficult things became. not only could you not have sex, you could barely get off. the only true privacy you get is in the shower and even then you can only be in there for a limited time, so there’s no point in wasting water.

then when you were assigned to work with capa full time, you reached your tipping point. you’d spend hours alone with him, working, sometimes talking, but working for the most part.

but, during an unusually slow and boring day, you and him talked for what felt like hours. you even got comfortable enough to open up about your desire for intimacy, although you hoped that it wouldn’t come off as to desperate or “slutty” (as if being a slut really matters at this point in time).

capa opened up too, he wasn’t as open as you were willing to be, but he was vulnerable enough. he’d been struggling too. really, everyone was probably struggling in that sense, but it felt nice to be validated by capa in a way.

things started to get a bit ‘playful’ between you and capa, you kept it hidden as best you could, but when you were alone together you were sweet and a bit affectionate. of course, nothing wild, but little things like playing footsie, hand holding, even hugs. that’s all you allowed yourself to indulge in for the first little while.

but one night, when everyone was asleep, you and capa snuck into a vacant observation room. initially, you had intentions of only talking, but that was shut down almost immediately.

you and capa giggled like children as you locked the door behind you, feeling a rush of adrenaline despite not doing anything explicitly wrong. as you place your back against the wall while smiling kindly at capa, you notice his demeanour has changed. he isn’t giggling, and he’s still smiling, but for a different reason.

“you know, i’ve been thinking ..” capa murmurs as he slinks his body closer, leaning on his shoulder directly beside you. “if we’re smart about this, i think we can both get something that we want. and no one would have to know.”

“what do you mean?” you question with a confused face, although you already have an inkling as to what he’s hinting at.

capa smirks and caresses your palm with the pads of his fingers “you know ..”

your eyes go wide at his confirmation. you want to feel him so badly, but it’s too risky. a moment of pleasure doesn’t outweigh a lifetime of regret.

“capa, i don’t know if we should ..” you whisper, fighting your urge to push him down and fuck him right then and there.

“we can be good about this!” he pleads, inching himself closer and turning his body to where his chest is nearly touching yours. “we’ll be fine, you’re a smart girl, aren’t you?”

you feel yourself becoming flustered, you struggle to look capa in the eyes. they’ve become darker, slowly but surely filling with lust.

“i am.” you reply with a swallow,

“yes, you are.” he agrees, brushing stray hairs from out of your face. “so come on. and we’ll probably work better without all this pent up energy, huh?”

your heart starts to race and a heat between your legs begins to form, “yeah .. that makes sense ..”

“mhm.” he purrs, his body now flush against yours, you can feel his bulge straining through the fabric. “can i kiss you?”

you nod, lips slightly agape. he brings his lips to yours, moaning quietly at the sensation of your soft lips against his. the kiss quickly becomes heated with capa trailing his hands down your body. his touches are sexual, but they have a hint of curiosity to them. it’s been so long since he’s been this close to a woman.

how they feel, how they taste, how they smell, he’d almost started to forget it. but with you here, it’s all flooding back to him now, and he can tell his body is slipping into a primal-like overdrive. he feels your pheromones are nearly intoxicating to him.

“feel like a teenager again ..” capa giggles breathlessly between kisses. you decide to get handsy as well and place your hands on his back, feeling up his shoulder blades and spine.

“fuck ..” he mewls, “need more ..”

he dropped to his knees and began to pull your shorts and underwear down, promptly revealing yourself to him. you hadn’t been anticipating any sort of sexual contact, so you weren’t exactly groomed to your liking. if you had known this was going to happen you would’ve shaved for him, but alas.

“i’m sorry i’m not exactly .. bald ..” your voice trails off as you blush, dancing around what you actually wanted to say. you were afraid the faint hair may put him off, but it didn’t, not in the slightest.

“i don’t care .. fuck, i don’t care ..” he groaned, nearly whining at the simple sight of you being bare right in front of his eyes. he runs his dry hands up your thighs, gripping the soft skin gently. while panting from pure arousal, he begins to kiss your thighs, occasionally looking up at you with an infatuated glare in his eye. like you were some sort of god to him at that moment.

“you’re a woman.” he breathed, it rolled off his tongue like a praise. he continued to kiss along your thighs, inching closer and closer to your aching core. it had been so long since you’d been touched, let alone ate out. your knees nearly gave out from anticipation.

you card your fingers through his hair as you watch him, his breath getting heavier and heavier with each passing moment. while making eye contact with you, he begins to kiss your needy cunt. slowly switching from wet pecks to desperate licks. he moaned at your taste, gripping your ass as he pushed your hips against his face harder.

“c-capa-“ you whimper at his eagerness and the sudden wave of pleasure. with a hum, he brought his tongue to your hole to lap up any and all of your spilling arousal, using his nose to stimulate your clit.

“tastes fuckin’ incredible ..” he admitted, quickly resuming his licks and sucks. what he lacked in skill he made up for in passion and eagerness, he wanted to make you feel so good, and it was clear by the way he whined and huffed against you.

“i missed having good pussy on my tongue.” he chuckled, smacking your ass playfully. you yelp at the slight sting, but it quickly shifts into a moan as he nips at your sensitive inner thighs. “i could eat you all goddamn night, but i need a little relief of my own, baby.”

you feel yourself becoming slicker as capa begins to tug off his pants, his flushed member standing to attention. as soon as his cock is freed, he begins to weakly pump it for you. his eyes scanning up and down your body as he basks in your feminine presence.

copying his behaviour, you slowly begin to play with your clit, watching how he sighs and slouches at the gesture, clearly enjoying the show.

“could i ride you?” you blurt out, almost embarrassingly fast, your arousal clouding your thought process. no point in pretending anymore, you want to fuck him and you want to do it now.

“fuck, please.” he begs, he sounds pathetic, but that only further enables your arousal, knowing you have a man on his knees begging for you.

you push his shoulders back gently so he’s laying against the cold floor, as he lays back you straddle his lap and begin to roll your hips against his member. you and capa both moan at the sensation, capa balls his fists up and begins to rut against you as well. at this point, you’re just grinding against each other raw.

“baby ..” he pants, dipping his head back for a moment. your stomach tingles at the pet name. “if we keep doing this ‘m gonna come.”

while biting your lip, you raise your hips and align his tip with your opening, teasing him slightly before lowering yourself down into him. you gasp at the fullness, while capa groans at your warmth.

“could i-i, fuck, could i see your tits?” he whines as he involuntarily thrusts up into you, he feels like he can’t control himself at this point. every ounce of his being is burning with arousal.

you lift your hips up and ride him, meeting his thrusts. while you ride him, you shakily lift up your top. you leave the shirt on but bundle up the fabric above your tits, for some reason it feels hotter that way.

capa groans and plants his feet on the floor, holding your hips in place as he fucks up into you harshly.

“o-oh fu-uck!” you sob as capa pounds into that sensitive spot from within you, hastily you bring your hand between your legs to rub your clit. both of you knew this wouldn’t last long, so you just want to enjoy it while you can.

capa feels like his brain is melting, he doesn’t know where to look. he can either watch your tits bounce with each thrust, he can watch your pretty little face contort with pleasure, or he can watch his cock slide in and out of your heavenly cunt. he can’t settle on one, so he eagerly switches between each of them.

“you’re so fuckin’ wet ..” he choked as he watched his member glisten with your arousal. since being on icarus II, capa began to dream of situations like this. it was normally faceless women, but he was absolutely feigning for some tight wet pussy, despite how much he tried to hide it.

“don’t stop— please ..” you huff. you know capa won’t stop, he’s too far gone to quit now, yet the words still fell from your mouth. you haven’t felt so good in so long, you don’t want it to end.

“won’t stop.” capa slurs as his thighs shake from exhaustion, “fuck. can’t stop stop, baby, feels too fucking good.”

your orgasm begins to build up from within you. both you and capa are shaky, sweaty, desperate, and close. you place a hand behind you for stability and dig your nails into capa’s knee as he thrusts into you, your other hand still stimulating your clit as best you can.

capas cheeks are flushed, his pupils are blown, and plush lips hang agape. you want to tell him he looks gorgeous, but you can’t seem to find the words to at the moment.

“‘m getting close.” he hissed as his grip on your hips got tighter, “come on my cock. please, baby. i need to feel it. please.” capa rambles mindlessly, you’ve felt like an absolute dream the entire time but the sight and sensation of you coming undone on his cock would be the cherry on top.

“yes, yes, yes-“ you gasp as your orgasm finally breaks through you, the stimulation on your clit comes to a stop but capa continues to fuck into you as you come for him. you release a loud, guttural moan at the pleasure. mere seconds after, capas whining beneath you about how close he is and how pretty you look when you come.

after pulling out, capa feverishly pumps himself and quickly spills his load onto your ass and his thighs while groaning and whimpering.

you shakily slide off his lap and sit on the cold floor beside him. while attempting to fix your appearance, you both giggle at what you had just done. since it had been so long, it felt almost innocent. just two desperate people who wanted to feel each others bodies.

“can we do this again tomorrow?” capa asks while attempting to catch his breath

“tomorrow?” you raise your brows, “you want to make this a routine?”

capa laughs, “you shouldn’t have given me a taste, baby, now i’m going to keep crawling back for more.”

—

sorry, had horny capa thoughts, can you really blame me tho.

[animequeen4]

okay y’all hear me out… alastor, Lucifer, and Adam and their s/o meeting their fandom personas

alastor x reader x cursed cat alastor

Yn: “Al look at what I found! Isn’t he the cutest 😍”

alastor: “what is the world is that? 😃”

is genuinely confused on what and where it came from all he knows is that it hates him and everyone else except yn

Yn once putted a bow tie on him and looked like he loved it by this smile seeming genuinely yet when his bow tie was coming undone he would hiss and scratch at anyone who tried to fix it and only allowed yn to fix it

had a tendency to bring gifts for yn like nice and one time a ENTIRE deer carcass but after seeing she would throw it away he started to bring started bringing stuff like Freshly pulled out of the ground flowers, sometimes jewelry, and one time a cute hat

as for alastor he does not like the thing

he hates how the thing will always try to get in the way when he tries to do anything with yn like when it’s early in the morning and he wants to enjoy the peaceful moment with you he will just show up somehow in the room cuddling you, when he tries to give you a kiss on the cheek the will but bring your attention to him instead, and onetime he tried locking the door to get some quality time alone together and keep him out, THE CAT NEARLY BROKE DOWN THE WHOLE DOOR!!! The only time they got along was when they were protecting yn and when they both showed dislike for Susan

then one day a cat version of yn showed up also out of no where and immediately Cat Alastor stopped beefing with regular alastor because now both have their own yn

although yn was sad cat alastor wasn’t hanging out with her as much anymore she was happy and hopefully she can finally enjoy some peace of mind knowing they were not fighting anymore

lets just say a few months later there would be some kittens and they become permanent residents because cat alastor would bite who every tried to touch the kittens and his yn 😅

Lucifer x reader x cursed cat Lucifer

Out of all three he is the one who is actually loving meeting their fandom persona

“OMG HE IS AS CUTE AS KIKI! 🥹”

Lucifer gets even more excited see he too has a appreciation for ducks

let’s kitty Lucifer sleep with any of his ducks (except the Lilith one which he hides)

Kitty Lucifer loves yn almost as much as regular version of him

Like cat alastor he lives little gifts for yn except they usually come some with ducks mostly rubber ducks

however it is a bit of a hassle sometimes with him having wings where as when it’s time for a bath we will try to fly away but will get in the bath willing it there are some rubber ducks

when a yn cat showed up Lucifer was excited but not as much as his feline counterpart who acted like they were husband and wife and he missed his wife dearly

Kitty Lucifer was latter found being groomed by cat yn who was licking him clean and the too we’re sharing kitten kisses with kitty Lucifer having a completely smitten look 🥰

Adam x reader x squished/tiny Adam

Adam: “THIS LITTLE SHIT STOLE AND ATE ONE OF MY RIBS?!?! We need to get rid of it!”

yn: “oh come how Adam he is like you so he too likes ribs”

tiny Adam will often ask for cuddles and I imagine he is about as the same size as the cats so when cuddling he is pressed against yns boobs so tiny Adam will smirk at Adam making him jealous and flip regular Adam off while yn Isn’t looking

tiny Adam will also sleep on top of or cuddle yn while she sleeps so sometimes he just likes hanging out in her between her boobs

will often try to steal things like food, phones, jewelry to try and make him look cooler, and one time he has been caught stealing yns bra but was stopped easily due to how small he is

Will basically always come between the two of you when you tried to do anything romantic

not sure if he is wearing a mask like Adam or if that is his actual face due to always fighting anyone who tried to check

once Adam realized how he is able to get away with stuff they suddenly become good friends and caused a lot of mischief

I don’t know why but I imagine tiny Adam would also try to sing songs like hell is forever but it ends up sounding a lot cutter due to how high his voice is or he ends up squeaking instead

one day a tiny yn showed up and Adam finally understand why yn loved tiny Adam so much. ITS LIKE HAVING A TINY VERSION OF HER HE CAN TAKE AROUND WITH HIM WHEREVER HE GOES!! ITS SO FREAKING CUTE!! 🥹

tiny Adam then started started liking tiny yn and to regular Adam and yn it was like watching how they fell in love

ps these are not my art please don’t get after me I am just using these for illustrations on what they look like I am not claiming ownership and I hope you enjoyed 😁

[aheathen-conceivably]

🎶 Ain't gunna run on lovin', gotta keep moving, never gunna slow down 🎶

From the moment he walked in the door Josephine knew that the man who sat at the bar that night was different. His eyes held none of the worry or desperation of the other patrons, and he moved with a sense of fluid determination that told Jo he knew exactly why he was there. 

As he ordered her finest whiskey, she caught sight of the gold rings on his fingers, each carefully embossed with a different emblem or inlaid with diamonds. Glittering amongst them were nails unmarked by the dirt of hard physical labor of nearly every other man in the bar, although the lines on his hands told her that hadn’t always been the case. She set the glass down in front of him and he held her gaze for a moment before turning back to Antoine, sipping his drink slowly and appreciatively.

After a few songs his glass ran dry, and once Jo had poured him another, he looked straight at her, addressing her more directly than most men ever did, “Who’s that playing? He’s new or something, isn’t he? Definitely not from here or I’d remember that face.”

The light glittered on his rings and Jo steadied her voice, “His name is Antoine Duplanchier, all the way from New Orleans. Trained under the piano greats down there, even heard a rumor he played with the Louis Armstrong back in his day.”

The man swirled the whiskey in his glass as his voice took on a bit of a mocking tone, “Why’s he playing guitar, then?”

Without missing a beat Jo smiled, “Well, sir, get me a piano and we can find out.”

He gave her an approving glance, a tinge of humor in his eyes telling Jo that she had judged his character correctly, “And what are you paying him here?”

Jo brought her hand to her hip and looked him square in the eye, “Now it wouldn’t be very prudent of me to discuss money with a strange man, would it?”

He let out a hearty laugh and a voice rang out behind them. “Father! When did you get here? You’re meant to be gone another week!”

He jumped to his feet, leaving his whiskey behind as he rushed to where Val stood. “Yázhí! Look at this place! You’ve done fine work, little one! I finished the opening in Gallup sooner than expected, so I wanted to see how things were running here. Swimmingly, it seems.”

A sort of innocent excitement crossed Valcita’s face as she pulled away from his hug. It was so different from her usual expression that it made Jo smile. She didn’t seem to catch it as she gestured over to the bar where Jo stood, “That’s in part thanks to Josephine here, father. She’s come along quite nicely. 

“We’ve met, Yázhí. She was telling me about your guitarist. Antoine, yes?” He left his eyes trained on Jo, looking for confirmation that everything she said had been true. As soon as she nodded her head yes, he gave her a pleased grin and turned back to his daughter. “I must say, it’s a smart move. Adds a certain atmosphere that’s missing at the other roadhouses. Lifts some of the depression you can’t seem to escape these days, even on the route.”

His next words came quickly, as though he had already made the decision even before asking Jo who was on the stage. “Say, Miss Josephine, you ever considered going out on the road? I’ll double whatever Valcita here has offered you.”

“Father!”

He looked at her shocked expression and brushed it off with a laugh, “Well you must lure a snake out of its hole somehow. Besides, the roadhouse numbers are promising. More and more Okies on that route need somewhere to stop, something to drink. Then anybody with a lick of money has been sold Route 66 like it’s some sort of promise land. I’ve got more white people in cadillacs stopping at the courts than I thought possible. Competition will catch on soon though, so we’ve gotta differentiate ourselves now. So what do you say, Miss Josephine, a few weeks, just a tour of our places in New Mexico? Maybe a few in Arizona.”

For the briefest of moments, the victorious smile vanished from Josephine’s red lips. She looked toward Antoine, who’s consistent playing and dazed eyes told her that he knew none of what was transpiring at the bar right in front of him. She knew that she should speak to him before saying another word, to formulate some sort of plan with him, Gio, and Zelda; but this didn’t seem like the sort of man who’s patience you tested, and the loan on their farmhouse matured in a little over a month. 

She rounded the bar, eyes angled straight at the man whose offer promised to save and ruin their lives in a single handshake. She reached out toward him first, ignoring both Val and Antoine in her periphery. “I’d say you’ve got a deal, Mr. Grove. But I want half up front, both for him and me as his manager.”

The sparkle in his eyes matched the gold of his rings and he stuck out his hand out to meet hers, “Only because I like you, Miss Josephine.”

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Barista

Relationship: Matt Murdock x Reader Warnings: nothing. only fluff Summary: Although the barista at the local coffee shop never seems to be able to get Matt's order right, something keeps bringing him back. A/N: enjoy this quick little fluffy thing I whipped up in the notes app of my phone <3

Masterlist

Matt winced after he took another sip of his coffee. You had added cinnamon to it this time. Cinnamon. He didn’t know how you managed to do that. His coffee was simple and, more importantly, never changed, but you—a barista at the local coffee shop—always somehow managed to get it just a little incorrect.

But, also, Matt wasn’t exactly keen on skipping his weekly coffee trips.

“What did she put in your coffee this time?” Foggy asked after having witnessed the face his friend had made.

Matt sighed. “Cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon?” Foggy laughed. “I don’t understand how that is even possible. Why do you keep going to that place?”

Matt did his best to his shrug casual, undetectable. “No reason. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Foggy gasped. “Oh my gosh.”

“What?”

“There’s a hot barista, isn’t there?”

Matt immediately started spewing out (weak) protests. “What. That’s… I— How would I—,”

But Foggy cut him off. “Don’t give me that again, Matthew. You do know. You can’t stop yourself from going to the coffee shop because you’re trying to get with a hot barista.”

“Okay,” Matt said in defeat, “maybe let’s not call her ‘hot barista.’ She’s just… She’s very kind. She makes silly coffee puns when I order. Sometimes we get to talking and… I don’t know. I like it. I like her, I think.”

“Even though she gets your coffee order wrong every single time?”

Matt blushed. “Well, I think I make her a little nervous. I may or may not have noticed some spikes in her heart rate.”

"Oh, that’s perfect," Foggy said with a laugh. "So, when are you going to ask her out?"

"I— I don’t think I can do that. That would be weird, right? Maybe she’s just being nice to me. I don’t want to be one of those customers."

"But you said her heart skips when you walk in."

"Sure, but maybe she’s just an anxious person—,"

Foggy scoffed. "Since when have you ever had this many reservations about asking someone out?"

"I don’t know," Matt admitted with a sigh. "I don't think she needs to get wrapped up in all my stuff."

"Actually it sounds like she very much wants to get wrapped up with you."

"Foggy…"

"Alright, alright, I’ll stop," he said, raising his arms in surrender. "I’m just saying, it sounds like she might be into you so I would at least think about it."

And so Matt did. He tried not to—he really did—but no matter how much he resisted it, your angelic voice and his best friend’s insisting words kept creeping up in the back of his mind. Even when he was out patrolling his city, the thoughts didn’t leave him.

In fact, it consumed Matt for an entire weekend. And he found himself back at the coffee shop bright and early Monday morning.

As Matt opened the door, he was immediately hit by your soft, sweet voice talking to another customer. You were kind and respectful as you interacted with them but Matt was quick to notice you didn’t share a coffee pun. He didn’t know why that made something in his chest warm.

When he approached the counter, he heard your heart speed up just ever so slightly, as if on perfect cue. Matt enjoyed trying to act clueless sometimes.

"Good—Good morning, Matthew," you said. "It’s good to see you again. I missed you a latte this past weekend."

Matt subtly tightened the grip on his cane. He swore you winced at your words, which he found adorable. "Good morning.” He couldn’t help but smile. "That was a good one.”

You giggled. And it nearly took his breath away.

“Thank you,” you replied. “I have to start looking up new ones. I fear I’m running out.”

Matt shook his head. “We can’t have that, can we?”

You laughed again. You were as giddy as ever around him. Maybe Foggy wasn’t completely bonkers, Matt thought.

"What can I get started for you today, Mister Lawyer?”

"Coffee. Splash of cream," Matt answered.

"Of course, of course," you muttered to yourself before waltzing around behind the counter. The sound of grinding beans and dripping coffee made Matt’s ears perk up.

"Busy day today?" You asked over the noise of the machines.

Matt shook his head. "Paperwork to do, files to review. The usual," he replied but his words felt jilted. Should he ask you? Would that be weird? Would you call the cops or something?

"Well, that’s good to hear! Your day will fly by," you said quite cheerfully. It made Matt feel really good—a particular kind of good that didn’t always come easily for him.

"It’s already off to a great start here," Matt replied, taking a little leap of faith. He swore he heard you gasp. "Um, you know, there is something I wanted to ask you."

You were now pouring coffee into a to-go cup. Matt didn’t think you had messed up anything this time but he couldn’t be sure. He was a little distracted.

"Oh, yeah?" You asked. Your voice was suddenly shaky. Your heart rate shot up. Not just a skip like before. It was pounding.

It could mean anything, really, he told himself.

"Yeah." Matt took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. With me."

Something heavy hit the counter. "Uh, dinner? Like as a date?"

Matt chuckled. "Yes, exactly like a date."

"I’d love to." You didn’t even hesitate slightly. That made Matt feel really good.

"Great," he replied. He was sure he was keeping his composure from the outside but on the inside? He wanted to let out a sigh of relief.

You two exchanged contact information after Matt’s order was ready. He paid and you both kept it very professional, even when he noticed your hands were pretty much shaking.

The professionalism fell when he was bidding you a goodbye. You stepped around the counter to plant a kiss on his cheek and wish him a good day. It nearly took Matt aback but not in a bad way.

A permanent smile was etched onto his face for the entire morning—even when he went to take a sip of his coffee...

Vanilla. Matt could smell it, he could taste it. You had somehow added a splash of vanilla syrup to his cup of coffee. Matt laughed to himself.

[lisenberry]

I’ll be sailing on your deep blue eyes

1/1 4.99k

E/MDNI/18+

Cw: Mention of dirt and filth, rodents (rats/mice), smut, he’s older (it's up to you by how much). Fish/Fishing. Meet cute. Summer love.

John takes you on a first date aboard his fishing boat.  It isn’t at all what you’d expected.

Ao3

It had taken John three days to say one word to you, but once he finally had, you found it hard to get rid of him.  Not that you wanted to. 

For your first date, he invited you for a ride on his boat for some fishing and a sunset cruise along the Mersey Estuary.  Although he'd say it was actually your second.  You didn't think snogging and necking for what seemed like hours, like a couple of teenagers, in the alley behind the pub you worked at all summer qualified, but he could be very convincing.

You were a teacher who supplemented your income cooking in your family's seaside inn during school holidays, and John really liked your great-granddad's fish batter recipe, enough to eat lunch there every day.  He must've known the havoc a steady diet of fryer oil and potatoes could inflict on one's health, but you were too happy for his company to remind him. 

And he probably didn’t care anyway.

He was massive.  Wide shoulders and a thick chest.  He must've worked in construction or something active.  He was cut not by fancy weight machines, but by hard labor.

And he must've seen something in you, too, because the food really wasn't anything special.  Especially when your cousin forgot to set the timer and disappeared to text his girlfriend, over-cooking the whole batch of fried cod and serving it anyway.

You wondered how the place stayed open or had any customers at all when you weren't there.

John told you to dress comfortably and to meet him at the docks at 6:00pm.  You weren't prepared for what awaited you when you walked up at 5:45, in a pair of cutoff shorts and a light jacket in case it got cold.  A bottle of good wine poking out of your bag.

“This is your boat?” you asked, as he exited the wheelhouse to greet you at the railing.

It was an ancient prawn trawler, probably from the early 80s, named the William John and about ten meters long.  Made for hauling in loads of fish and crustaceans, not pleasure cruising.  Rusted nearly through and decaying before your eyes.  It creaked and groaned above the lazy waves of the River Mersey like a contrary, lumbering goose.

You’d lived along the river your whole life.  You'd thought you’d gone nose blind to the smells of low tide and petrol exhaust, but you couldn’t place the stench that radiated from the relic.  Notes of wet tobacco, mildew, and dead animals, perhaps? 

“What’s the matter?  She’s not pretty enough for you?”  He wiped his grease covered hands on an equally greasy rag, defeating the purpose you thought, and reached up to help you board. 

His grip was warm and firm as he helped the bag from your shoulder and caught you against his chest.  His meaty palms on the backs of your thighs and his hot tongue down your throat was enough to momentarily distract you from your doubts.

You hooked your own arms around his neck, and the dampness of his sweat seeped through his layers.  It left you to wonder if he’d showered in anticipation of your visit, or if it would’ve even mattered in the end.  He was filthy either way, and must’ve been dying of heat in his layers. 

Undershirt, overshirt, coveralls.  Topped off with the boonie hat he only ever took off while he was sitting at his favorite booth while he ate. 

When he finally set you down, you nearly stumbled backwards from the absence of his steadying mouth.  Instead, you let yourself fall forward, further into him as you used his immovable form for balance.

“You look nice.”  His eyes sparked with appreciation as he dragged his gaze from your bare legs back up to your face.  “But are you ready to get a little dirty?”

“What do you mean?”  Suddenly apprehensive that you really did have wildly differing ideas of what constituted a date. 

“You’re going to be my first mate for this trip.  How good are you at following orders?”  His hands had traveled to your hip bones, resting as if they were handles molded just for him. 

“I’m not so sure I trust this thing in the open water.”  Your eyes fell upon a hose pumping some kind of slurry off the side of the boat. 

Best case scenario, it was some sort of waste.  Worst case, it had a leak, and that pump was the only thing keeping it afloat.

“Oh, she’s fine.  You don’t have to worry about her.”  He rocked your hips with his hands, as if gauging your pliancy.  Your soft edges fit perfectly in the crook of his thumbs.

“Then what do I have to worry about?”  You inquired with mock suspicion, as you blew away an annoying whisp of hair from catching to the beading perspiration along your eyebrow.

The humid air, and your closeness to him, already had your pulse up and your pores working overtime to cool you off.  You’d have done anything for a stiff breeze to ease the stickiness between your breasts and thighs.  But there was no respite, not from the sun or the intensity of his hungry stare.

“The tides.  We don’t have much time to waste if we’re going to make it back tonight.”  He slipped a hand behind you to unhook the line from the dock’s cleat, in a smooth motion that brought you closer together.

Trapped between him and the railing behind you.

Being stranded out to sea with him overnight didn’t seem so terrible.  Until you remembered the vessel upon which you were standing.  You did a quick mental check for the last time you’d gotten a tetanus shot.  Primary school, maybe?

“I’ve never worked on a boat before.”  You confessed as you moved out of his way helpfully.  “I just cook the fish, not catch it.”

"Try and relax, yeah?  There's no such thing as a bad crew.  As the Captain, it's my job to take good care of you."

“Is there somewhere I can sit?”  You looked around for a chair, only to find a few grimy plastic buckets and rusted out storage hatches.

“Plenty of time for that later, princess,” he said with a smirking shift to his lips that brought your attention to his thick mustache.  “You’re up here with me.”

An innocent enough reply, as he gestured you to follow him to the wheelhouse, but it brought lewd thoughts to your mind.  The kind of thoughts you’d been having for him since he first walked into your pub a few weeks before. 

There was no going back now, you thought, as he fired up the engine with a start that had you clutching his forearm with a white knuckled grip.  Only to have the nerve to laugh as you tried to compose yourself.

“You don’t trust me?”

“No, I do,” but you didn’t sound very convincing.  So, you tried again, locking your eyes with his.  They were a deep blue that matched the sea and held a certainty that made your stomach flutter a bit too fast.  “I do.”

He only nodded, content with your declaration, and motored effortlessly up the river.  Your nervous belly eased as bit as you passed by the Liver buildings and underneath the Queensway and the Kingsway, until you reached the mouth of the open Irish Sea.  The familiar stagnant smell of rotting seaweed and burning fossil fuels gave way to a fresh and crisp ocean breeze. 

The sun dipped lower towards the horizon line as you continued north past the statues along Crosby Beach, and the still visible vestiges of shipwrecks that dotted the coast between Fornby and Southport.

Your captain dropped anchor near each of them, and you shared knowledge and debated the history of the wrecks as he casted a few poles into the water, with hopes of hooking into the schools of mackerel that liked to feed in the cavernous ruins.  You'd read about them, and even taught the local lore to your students, but it was a treat to see them in person. 

To witness how the sea had claimed them and used them for its own purposes.  Deformed by the tides, and reshaped with mussels, vegetation and barnacles.

And he was right about the fish.  You took turns reeling in over a dozen of the mackerel he was hunting for, and with each catch, you'd gotten bolder.  The smile on your face grew bigger as each of your conquests stacked up into the ice chest.  There was a certain power to it.   In the team effort, between you and him.  A connection to the wild that sent your endorphins rushing and ignited your sense of competition.

He oversaw and advised, with a half-burnt cigar in his mouth and a growling affection for your quick study as he showed you how to measure them and gauge their weight.

"Good fish," he muttered approvingly, after each inspection.

“Good captain,” you flirted back as he caught the bottom of your ass with a firm clap. 

An unrest had begun to brew deep between your thighs, an uprising of desire and sensation with every heated glance and flex of jaw beneath his beard.  He was having as much fun as you were, judging by the flick of his tongue along his teeth, and the crinkle of his eyes as he took in your laughter.  

A twinge of hope perhaps, and the promise of more excitement to come.

"This one feels bigger than the others," you noted with a warning at the last fishing spot before it was time to head back.  The tip of your rod was bent nearly in half and the force of it pulled you tight against the railing.

"Fuck my old boots, you got a big one there," he grated, urgently, as his arms wrapped around yours and his foot propped against the side to give you more leverage.  “Could be a shark or a tope.”  He coached you through it patiently as you reeled in the line as hard as you could.

By the time you wrestled it aboard, you were both soaked, in both the salty sea spray and each other’s perspiration.  Your blouse drenched through, and your denim shorts smeared with fishy slime.

Your prey gaped at you from the chipped and iron-stained deck as John worked the hook free from its lip.  It was a cod fish, bigger than you’d ever seen.  It must’ve gone after the mackerel that had taken your bait and gotten snagged along with it.

"Now that's a beautiful thing, darling."  He held it up easily by the mouth and tail, and it spanned almost as long as his arms.  "About twelve or thirteen kilos, I think."

The sun had just about set around you and it painted the sky a dazzling pink.  The excitement of your catch buzzed in your chest as you stopped to appreciate the colors of it for the first time. 

Your Gran had often spoken of her love for pink skies at night.  A good omen, she’d always said. 

Was that the root of your building delight as you watched him pack the giant cod into the cold storage with the rest of the night's catch?  Or was it something else that had you gawking at his waist and hips, appreciating the efficient and powerful way he moved?

"I hope you don't expect me to cook any of that," you chanced a quip as he pulled two of the bigger mackerels out of the ice.

You were wet and getting chilled, as the evening breeze picked up.  Your jacket long forgotten in the wheelhouse.  A shiver crept from your feet to your neck and rubbed at your arms to brush the goosebumps away.

"You can take a seat now, love.”  He dropped his worn and smelly hat on your head and stripped off his thick flannel shirt to wrap around your shoulders as he disappeared into the wheelhouse.  "I'll take it from here."

His overshirt fell nearly to your knees as you retrieved your bottle of wine from your bag and hopped up atop the whaleback storage hatch.  Thankful that you thought to bring a few plastic cups and an opener, just in case.  This boat didn't have wine glasses, of that much you were certain.  And at that point, it didn't matter.

He hadn't capsized you yet.  You could cut him a break for the shabby state of his fishing boat. 

"Need any help?"  You offered, as he came back out with a small grill, a cutting board, and a sharp knife.

He turned over two buckets and grunted in a purely masculine way as he sank on top of one and set the board on the other like a makeshift table.  He held the knife with purpose, like an extension of his own hand, as he skillfully gutted, scaled and deboned the fish he’d set aside. 

“Thought we’d have a deck-side barbeque.  Enjoy our spoils.”

When he’d finished prepping dinner and set the whole fillets to cook on the grill, he accepted a cup of the offered wine and reclined back against the wall behind him.  You were already ahead by a few glasses, and it made you soften a bit. 

You felt closer to him now that he’d wrapped you in his warmth and his scent.  His shirt didn’t smell bad, necessarily, but it was ripe.  Like musk and spice, and the salt of the earth.  You decided then that you were keeping this one.

The shirt.  And maybe him, too.

Curious to learn more about him than the brief bits he’d let slip so far, you prodded him with conversation, and learned that he’d been in the army, serving for several years before retiring and returning home.  He’d only been back a few months before he’d stumbled into your pub for a pint one afternoon and saw you hustling back and forth between the bar and the kitchen.

“I didn’t realize you could cook.  Thought you only ate my fish and chips,” you asked.

The simply prepared, oily filets sizzled over the fiery coals as he checked and flipped them over with his bare hands.

“You think I was there because I like the food?”  A raised eyebrow giving him a rather dashing edge.

“You don’t like my food?”  You feigned a mild outrage, but you didn’t blame him.  You didn’t even like it most of the time.

“I like you.”  He pulled a fresh cigar from his pocket and took his time lighting the end.  A distraction perhaps, so he didn’t have to follow it up with another declaration.

You felt a girlish heat rise to your cheeks as you sipped more wine.  The culprit surely, not the giddiness of his attention.  There wasn’t much you could say to something like that. 

Thank you?   I like you, too?  How were you so bad at this?

“I meant to ask earlier.  Who’s William John?  The name of your boat, I mean.”

“That’s me.  My father was a bit of a ne’r do well.  So, when I was born, my grandfather commissioned this boat for him in hopes it would give him some purpose in his life.  A livelihood to provide for his family.  Aside from draining the family trust dry.”

“And he named it after you?  What a lovely gift.”  As rough around the edges as he was, the picture of him as a boy, working alongside his father brought a pang of longing to your heart. 

“You can see, by the condition of it, exactly what my father thought of it.”  He filled his mouth with a hot bite of food to test its doneness, and to save himself from revealing more of his secrets.

But he’d said enough, and the weight of what he’d shared made everything about him a bit clearer.  His pride, and his quiet authority.  He ran hot with something to prove, but was more shy when it came to the personal things.  Was he insecure in his ability to be loved?

The pang in your heart deepened, at the thought of him seeing the physical manifestation of the neglect he may have felt all his life.  That it wasn’t his father who taught him to fish, or drive the boat and chart the tides.  That he’d most likely taught himself, out of spite.

You thought of your own family legacy at the pub.  Still reaping the benefits of its name, generations after its greatness had faded.  Desperately in need of repair.  A little love and care.

“She’s not so bad.  Just needs a good cleaning and a coat of paint,” you offered gently, smiling your thanks as he handed you a plate of fish and a few slices of crusty bread.

“You see the vision, do you?”  An inquisitive light of humor in his eyes, surprised maybe that he hadn’t scared you away yet.

“Maybe I spoke too soon.  I haven’t used the bathroom yet.”  There was a brief moment of panic as he looked at you with confusion.  “You do have a toilet, don’t you?  Running water?”

“The head’s down the stairs on the left, but I warn you, it’s a tight fit.”

After dinner, you retreated down below to find that he was right.  The wheelhouse above held the controls and comms equipment, as well as a small galley with a padded bench, a dinette table, and a small cooktop and oven. 

Down a set of steps was the bathroom on one side and a sleeping area on the other.  A lumpy mouse-eaten mattress and a closet full of shelves holding everything from extra rope, bottles of motor oil, and dog-eared books.

A rucksack full of clothes and a few pairs of boots were stuffed haphazardly under the bed.

Somehow, the bathroom was smaller than the closet.  The door was broken and didn’t close, and there was a toilet and a sink, with a detachable shower head hanging above to wash over the drain on the floor.  It was wet and a bit slippery, with a newish bar of soap in the corner, solving the mystery that he had showered at least sometime over the last few days or so.

You settled for just washing your hands, but the faucet levers were stuck with layers of corrosion and scum.  Abandoning the effort entirely, you chanced a look at yourself in the cloudy mirror as the light bulb buzzed like a dying insect above your head.

Before you could take in your appearance, you heard him move behind you.  Felt his shadow take up mass, displacing the air and affecting the atmosphere like a weather system.

“Are you living here?”  You asked, turning around to find him propped against the narrow doorway with his shoulder.  He must have to pivot sideways just to make it through.

“I’ve gotten used to worse, if you can believe it.  This is downright cozy compared to the places I’ve been.”

It didn’t seem like an exaggeration, and you believed him.  You understood then why he’d been such an effective captain.  Why men followed him into hell.  Because he’d probably already seen the worst—and survived.  He could take it, whatever it was. 

He could take care of you.

Nothing about this date could be considered romantic.  You’d spent the first few weeks that you’d known him talking about yourself and your family.  Chatting his ears off while he ate and drank, patiently listening to your life story.

This date was to show you his.  To show you him.  To test whether you could follow him.  Trust him.  No frills.  No putting on airs. 

You could either hide from it, or embrace it.  It’d been too long since you’d kissed him, you came to the conclusion in that dank, stuffy space.  Hours at least, so you made the first move.  And it was if he’d been waiting for it.  Your acceptance.  Acquiescence.

Because once his hands met your waist, he made a sound of possession, feral and slightly unnerving.  One that bridged no argument between what is and what could be.

What was.

Hands and mouths, hips against his cock.  You stripped each other bare and collapsed into the bed with the squeaking of coils and the scurrying of something you hoped was smaller than a rat.

You took off his undershirt and chanced a look at his bare chest.  The tan lines between light and dark were stark around his arms and neck.  They brought a contentedness to your breath as you buried your face into his collarbone.

“What you laughing at, love?”  He pulled your face up to meet his, towards his eyes once more.  You struggled to find your focus in their depths.

“I like you, too.”  You hoped he would understand.  A simple thing, and yet you both had something to loose.

He only smirked, knowingly, and tipped a finger against the brim of the hat you’d forgotten you were still wearing.

“You’re in charge, sugar.  And I’m going to fuck you to until you beg me to stop.” 

“Please. Yes!”  You were right, he was a weather system.  And you were at his whim.  Do your worst, you wanted to scream.  To throw a bottle of empty spirits into his core and watch it be sucked away.

But he wasn’t wild like a storm.  He was steady, like the shore.  He caught the bottle and gave it back to you, quietly.  Gently. 

You felt a breath of fresh air along your bottom as he pulled you pants away.  And the humidity found you quickly while you writhed sticky and needy along his scratchy, hairy dick.

“You’re just one surprise after another, aren’t you?”  You murmured, as he slipped his thick cock past your entrance. 

Tighter than you thought he’d be.  A fit with no margin for error.  Snug and tight and welcome.

It stretched, reached places uncharted within.   You could whimper and shy away, but not with him.  You held steady and open, talking all of it.  As much as he could give.

“I could say the same for you, sweetheart.”  He wadded up your discarded shirt.  His shirt, and placed it under your head.  Its scent masking the moth balls and the dust as he buried your nose into the mattress.

And the remaining hours passed in a dream.  You beneath him, and then atop his face.  Aligned with his hips as you shuttered and rode his length in that tiny cot.  Kicking and screaming and begging for your own release.  Again and again.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?”  You felt the thin mattress creak and dip as he slipped back down behind you, finally, when it was all over.

“Hmm?”  Your brain was too fucked out to form anything resembling a coherent thought, even if your voice hadn’t been broken.  You were sure they’d heard your screaming in Wales.  Maybe even Ireland.

“We missed the tide window.  About five more hours before we can attempt to go back.”

You whimpered, feeling the crush between your legs and the scratchy fabric at your back as he turned you over and pushed your knees up around your ears.

“The good news is I’ve got plenty of fuel in the tank.  A good captain prepares for all possibilities.”

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”  You couldn’t bring yourself to put any real accusation behind it.

“Yes and no.  I had my hopes.”  At least he was honest.

A relieved gasp escaped you as a warm towel greeted your sore cunt, and not the blunt tip of his cock or the prodding of his thick fingers.  Instead, he cleaned you up in soothing strokes that lulled you into security as you buried your face in the shirt that had become your pillow.

You awoke alone in the tiny bed sometime later, nearly hitting your head as you sat up too quickly.  With the size of his frame, he must not have spent much time in such a cramped space.  Eager to find him, and not be left alone with the chittering sound you could only imagine were mice, you slipped on his shirt and creaked your way up the stairs.

You found him at the helm, sipping a hot tea as he looked out at the lights of the city off in the distance.  Back to civilization.  You curled up on the padded bench beside him and watched in a comfortable silence as the light slowly returned to the sky.

By the time you returned to the dock in the early hours of the morning, you felt rancid.  Your skin itched, hopefully not from bedbugs, and your muscles burned and ached.  But you were smiling, floating with the kind of hopeful feeling that only came after something so new, so different, so crazy, it turned your whole world upside down.

“What’d you think?  Come back again tonight, princess?”  He helped you disembark the boat and folded his arms across his chest expectantly. 

“I’ll have to think about it,” you replied sweetly, knowing you’d see him again at lunch in a few hours.  Already looking forward to it.

And of course you showed up that night at the same time, and the same place.  Bringing with you more wine, an armful of industrial grade cleaning products, air freshener, mouse traps, a few preemptive cranberry pills, pest spray, and a rubber mattress pad cover meant for bedwetting toddlers.

You slipped into an easy routine together, until the end of summer.  Some days you’d leave the dock and sail overnight a little further down the coast.  Others, you’d stay in the port and work on the boat.  He’d do the hard job of making repairs and buffing off the rust with a belt sander, while you’d carefully apply coats of thick, maritime-grade paint.

Below deck, you helped scrub off the nearly forty years of mold and crud from the head and the galley until the true surfaces shined like new.   You finished it off with clean bedding and a decluttered storage area to hold the few things he’d owned.

He lent you his hat to shield your nose from the sun while you worked, and wrapped you in his layers at night when the chilly air crept in.

You brought a bit of life back into your family’s restaurant with fresh and simple grilled mackerel and curried cod recipes that your customers had raved about, and the William John got a makeover worthy of its name. 

And it had been the most fun you’d had in your whole life.  Your favorite summer holiday yet. 

On the last official day before the school year started again, with your classroom set up and your lesson plan laid out, you ended your final shift in the kitchen and found him waiting for you in the alley out back.

A bouquet of flowers in one hand and an enigmatic expression on his face.  His eyes danced with promise and his mouth seemed to twitch excitedly with words unsaid.

“What’s all this, John?  I thought I was meeting you later.”

“I wanted to pick you up,” he said, as if it wasn’t a short walk to the pier.  But his hands found your waist as soon as he’d handed over the blooms, and he set your legs around his hips.  A shocked yelp escaped your lips before being silenced by his.  You could kiss him for days and it wouldn’t be enough, you mused as he pulled away first.  “I have something to show you.”

For a moment, you thought he intended to carry you the entire way, but he set you down gently and instead took your hand.  A silly, romantic thing on the surface, when more accurately he was just too reluctant to let you go. 

His instinct to guide and lead, to pull you along in step beside him.  For your part, your curiosity had you skipping quickly to match his long stride, eager to see what had him so worked up.  Bustling with a nervous energy that contradicted his usually stoic demeanor.

By the time you reached the boat, he’d slowed down, walking forward more deliberately.  Waiting to see if you’d notice his gesture on your own.

He’d finished painting the hull since you’d seen it last.  It no longer read William John in tarnished, fading letters.  In its place was your name.  Elegant and bold.  As if he’d tattooed it on his own chest.

“Oh, love, you shouldn’t have!”  Your hands covered your mouth, and your eyes brimmed with shocked, happy tears. 

“She’s as much yours as she is mine now.  Seemed fitting.  For a fresh start.”  He draped a lazy arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head.  “A new beginning.”

“You’d better take good care of her.”  You smiled up at him, your forehead barely grazing the bottom of his chin. 

“Do you think she’s ready for her maiden voyage?  One of the lads I used to serve with is up in Glasgow.  Wants to meet for some creel fishing for langoustines next week.”

“For how long?”  You’d be busy soon with the new term in full swing, and you’d quietly begun to mourn not seeing him in the restaurant every day, or sharing space in his wheelhouse each night. 

Change was inevitable, and it often came swiftly all at once.

“A month or so.  I wish you could come with me.  Never had a better first mate.” 

“Bring me back a few crates of those prawns, will you?  I’ll put them on the specials menu.” 

Saying goodbye to the haze of summer, and to him, was hard but you knew he’d be back.  Especially when he dropped his cherished boonie hat on your head and told you to keep it warm for him.  And sailed off in a boat he’d named after you. 

All the love to @the-sweet-hibiscus for your early support for this.

[cvrnelians]

summer boy

yandere ken x reader: In which Ken kidnaps a journalist reader in an attempt to make her fall in love with him.

Evidently, it’s not going quite as smoothly as he’d hoped.

warnings: obsessive behavior, kidnapping, minors DNI.

Ken tried his best to understand, you could tell. It happened a handful of times each day—whenever you got upset or angry, or provided him with a tidbit of information he’d never heard before. You could practically see the gears turning in that empty little blonde head of his. Every time he caught you crying (which was a daily occurrence at this point), several things were guaranteed to happen.

1. He stared at you in complete and utter shock.

“Good morning, world renowned journalist Barbie,” he exclaimed, making his way towards the bed. In his hands was a tray of fake breakfast food and an empty coffee mug. 

It was unnerving. Ever since you arrived here, strange things had been happening. You weren’t even the slightest bit hungry, and as each day passed, your skin started feeling weird. You weren’t even sure how to describe it. It was almost like...

Plastic.

His eyes widened when he caught sight of you. You hadn’t seen your reflection in days, but you were fairly certain you looked like a mess—hair disheveled, eyes red and puffy from crying. You turned away from him and laid down on your stomach, pulling a pillow over your head.

“Good morning, world renowned journalist Barbie!” he repeated, as if the only reason you didn’t respond was because you didn’t hear him the first time. But you had. You most definitely heard him the first time.

“Leave me alone.” Your voice was muffled as you pressed your face up against the sheets. “And don’t call me that. I’m not a Barbie, and I’m not a world renowned journalist. I’m nothing.”

He was silent for a few seconds, like he was trying very hard to come up with the right thing to say; probably whatever was least likely to set you off. 

“You’re not nothing,” he said. “You shouldn’t say that.” He set the tray down on the nightstand and backed up a few steps.

To think this all started with a simple assignment from your boss.

“Write me a fluff piece on the new Barbie theme park in Venice Beach.”

You had gone to Mattel headquarters to ask some executives more about the park, and quickly ran into Ken wandering around in the lobby. He beamed when he saw you, nearly sprinting over to greet you. It was borderline alarming.

“Hi, businesswoman Barbie! I mean, businesswoman human woman.”

Given his comfortability walking around the building and his general attire, you simply assumed he worked for Mattel. He said as much when you asked him about it. As you talked, he started saying all sorts of weird stuff. You hadn’t anticipated spending an entire day interviewing a Mattel employee method acting as a real life Ken doll. You expected this assignment to be fairly dull, so you were more than happy to play along—if anything, to entertain yourself in the process. Although he wasn’t the brightest man in the world, “Ken” did seem very knowledgeable about the Barbie franchise. As you strolled through the park together, he offered a constant stream of valuable input.

“Wow, this looks just like the roller coaster in Barbieland!”

“The ice cream here is really weird. Isn’t the ice cream here really weird? It’s so cold.”

“Why can’t people in the real world float down the stairs like we do?”

“Why do we have to wait in line? Why is there a line? Why are there so many people out here?”

Sadly, he also nearly drowned in the waterpark at some point. You had to talk him down from a full blown panic attack in the midst of this.

“I didn’t know I would…fall in...to the water. You can…w-walk on the pools…in…Barbieland.”

“It’s okay, Ken. It’s okay.” You placed a towel over his shoulders as he coughed and sputtered dramatically. 

As the day wound down, you took a walk along the beach and picked a nice spot to watch the sunset. 

“I want you to come with me.”

“Where?” you asked.

“To Barbieland.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed. “Ken, you can stop with the act. I got all the information I needed for the article. We’re just hanging out now.”

“No, I mean it! It’s not an act. I want you to come with me.”

You sighed and laid back in the sand. He laid down next to you.

“Alright. Let’s say this place is real. Why do you want me to come with you?”

Ken smiled warmly. “Because I love you.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Um. I’m sorry, what?” 

“I mean...I didn’t mean that. I meant, um. It’s just...you respect me.”

You laughed and shook your head. You sat up on your elbows, staring up at the sky. “Of course I do.”

“Thank you,” he said earnestly, placing his hand on his chest.

“From what you’ve told me, Barbieland sounds pretty idyllic. I would love to live there. But I’m not a Barbie. I’m human. I don’t think I belong there.”

“Sure, you do! You absolutely belong. I mean, we already have journalist Barbie but you can be businesswoman human woman journalist Barbie.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that." You pointed towards the sky. “Hey, do you have stars in Barbieland?” 

Ken sat up on his elbows also. It was like he was mirroring you. “Yeah. They don’t really look like the stars here, though. They’re more twinkly. And the constellations are a lot easier to find. I like them better—

“—in Barbieland,” you both said in unison.

The next few minutes were spent with you staring at the sky and Ken staring at you. It was kind of uncomfortable, but you had to admit you liked him. He was cute, if not a little dim. You were mainly hoping this whole Ken doll thing was an ongoing bit, that he was just really committed to his role at the theme park and he would drop it eventually. Otherwise, you were more than a little concerned.

“How about next time?” he asked. “The next time I see you, will you come with me?”

“Oh, so there’s gonna be a next time now?”

“If you’d like,” he said timidly.

“Sure. Why not? On our next date, I’ll go with you to Barbieland.”

“Yes! Will you excuse me for a second?” 

“Um, okay.”

He staggered a few feet away and crouched down behind a very tall, unoccupied lifeguard’s chair. Watching him try to disappear behind the large gaps between the steps was like watching someone struggle to find a hiding spot during a very tense game of hide-n-seek. A few seconds later, you heard a startlingly loud “SUBLIME!” echoing throughout the atmosphere. 

The next time you saw him about a week later, Ken was different. He wasn’t the same guy you met at Mattel headquarters. He wasn’t the same guy you spent the day with at Venice Beach. His clothes were a complete 180 from the pink pastels and light wash denim he had worn before. He was now wearing a ridiculous fur coat and heavy black sweatpants in the middle of the summer. He mentioned having gone back and forth between Barbieland and the real world a handful of times now, and started saying bizarre, offensive things about men and the patriarchy and…horses?

Most importantly, though, he had taken you on the strangest hot pink odyssey of a date you’d ever been on in your life. Safe to say, you tried to end the date—if that was even what it was—early.

Ken didn’t like that.

Not one bit.

“Ken, this is weird. Can you take me home?”

“But look around you! Barbieland is so much better now!” 

“No, I don’t…I don’t even know where we are, and I really want to go home now. This was a mistake.”

“I know you don’t know what it was like before, but I promise you, I’ve improved it. You said you wouldn’t belong in Barbieland, remember? But now since it’s so different, maybe you’ll feel like you do.”

“I don’t understand how we even got here, but I don’t like this. And I want to leave. Now.”

“Kendom. It’s called the Kendom, and it’s amazing. And you said you would come with me this time. You said so! You have to follow through on what you promised. You owe me.”

“Excuse me? I don’t owe you anything. I did come with you. Now I want to go.”

Ken didn’t like that very much, either.

So, here you were: trapped within the confines of Ken’s…what did he call it? His mojocasadojo…thing?

His house. You were trapped in Ken’s gigantic plastic house.

“So, I’ve been thinking. It’s been a few days, I’m sure you’ve adjusted by now. I was thinking we could go for a drive today, get some ice cream. I can even show you what I do at beach!” he said proudly.

“I don’t care what you do at beach!” you snapped, whipping around to face him. The intensity in your gaze clearly startled him. He somehow never expected for you to be as irate as you were. “That’s not even a job. And your car—”

“Truck car,” he said pointedly.

“Your truck car doesn’t have an engine. How does it even run?” you sobbed, smacking your forehead into the mattress again. “This place doesn’t make any sense!”

You felt ridiculous, like a teenager refusing to get up for school. It was a bizarre dichotomy. In many ways your situation was, in fact, dire. You were stuck in a nightmare in which some strange, unhinged man kidnapped you and dragged you to an alternate universe. On paper, this all sounded very frightening. And it was.

But it was also borderline comical, given Ken was so…

Himself.

2. You spotted a flicker of empathy as you explained to him why you were crying.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” he whined. “You should be happy. I want you to be happy.”

You rolled over and sat up with your back up against the headboard. “You trapped me here! How on earth are you so perplexed by this?”

Ken narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to one side. 

You sighed. “Confused,” you said flatly. “It means confused.”

“Perplexed,” he repeated, like he was trying the word on for size. He enunciated each letter and syllable. “Perplexed.”

“Ugh. Can you just—”

He smiled at you reverently. “You’re so smart, teaching me all these real world words. It’s just one of the many things I love about you. I love you so much.”

“Oh my god, we’ve been over this. You don’t love me. You don’t even know me.”

Ken gasped dramatically. 

3. He scrambled to put on a front of indignance, launching into a speech about how lucky you were to be there and how ungrateful you were being.

“Of course I love you! How could you say that? And you love me, too. Actually, you should be thanking me! You’ve got everything you could ever want here. I mean, we’ve got Scarface and Pulp Fiction special collector’s edition VHS tapes—”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, placing your head in your hands. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“—and a big, shiny truck car, and a boxing gym, and six mini fridges. We’ve even got our very own mojodojocasahouse. And you’ve got me, of course.”

“Wait a second. Our house?” you asked. 

“Yeah. Our mojodojocasahouse.”

“What? What do you think this is? You kidnapped me, Ken. I don’t even want to be here. You know that.”

“Yes, you do!” he yelled, making you jump. “This is what you do when you’re boyfriend girlfriend. Every night is our night and you both live together in a—”

“Dear god, please don’t say it again.”

4. Every time, without fail, he caved.

It didn’t take long for his resolve to shift into poorly disguised distress. It bothered and perplexed him, how unhappy you were. 

He just wanted to make things right.

“I don’t know what else to do,” he said pathetically, collapsing onto the bed next to you. He stared up at the sparkly pink ceiling and sighed. “I just want to make you happy. I’m trying my best.”

The weird part about all of this was that you actually believed him. And for a split second, you almost pitied him. Almost. There was something likable about Ken, even in spite of how maladjusted he had become. But then you came to your senses and acknowledged the reality of the situation. No matter how hard he tried to convince you otherwise, he had gravely wronged you, not the other way around. He was holding you here against your will and treating you like you were the bad guy because you weren’t entertaining his delusion. He was acting like this was all your fault.

And it certainly was not.

You wondered if a softer approach would prove more favorable. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and if you had to be a little manipulative in order to get out of this, you were willing to play nice. 

For now.

You sighed. “Ken, look. I don’t mean to be…mean.”

“You are being mean!” he pouted.

“And I’m very sorry for that. Here, let me—” You reached out and started playing with his hair. He smiled at you, shutting his eyes and leaning into it. After a few seconds, he splayed out on top of you, his chin pressing into your stomach.

“Okay,” you sighed. “If you really loved me—”

“Wow, I really like that. Please keep doing that.”

“If you really loved me, you would let me leave.”

He laughed. “I am letting you leave, silly. I asked you if you wanted to go for a drive.”

“I mean here. If you really loved me, you would let me leave Kenland.”

“Kendom. It’s the Kendom.”

“Okay, yeah. That. If you really loved me, you would let me go.”

His jaw ticked. “You don’t just leave people you care about,” he said resolutely. “You don’t ignore them.”

“Going by that logic, if you really cared, you wouldn’t ignore my requests.”

“I told you no, and what I say goes.”

“But you’re not even listening to what I have to say!”

“I don’t have to. I know what’s best for us, and I get to make the decisions.”

“Why?

“Because I’m the man. And that’s just how it is.”

You were both quiet for a few seconds.

“That’s fucking absurd, Ken.”

“Fucking absurd?” he parrotted. “I’ve never heard that before. I’m learning so many real world words today! What does that mean? Fucking absurd.”

“Ughhhhhhh,” you groaned, closing your eyes and leaning back against the headboard.

A few seconds later, you felt a slight pressure near your nose and ears. Your hands jutted out in surprise. You opened your eyes to Ken sitting a little too close to your face, except now the entire room was cast in a hazy pink filter. 

“It’s okay,” he said, grabbing your wrists. “I got you sunglasses. Y’know, for later on when we go to—”

“Beach,” you both said in unison.

“Exactly,” he grinned. “So let’s have breakfast and get ready. Okay?”

It bothers and perplexes him, how unhappy you are. 

Evidently, just not enough to let you go.

[aroui]

for you

it’s crowded in the cafe but at least a pretty boy approached you, right?

a lyney and reader meet-cute :)

“uh, mind if i sit here?”

in a jam-packed cafe, lyney had no other choice but to sit on the chair opposite of yours. as much as you wanted to protect your peace, you had no choice but to give it up for the attractive stranger in front of you.

“sure,” you replied. it’s impossible anyways, peace was never an option on friday afternoons. you shift your attention back to your laptop, opting to continue your work. as much as you wanted to stare at the pale-haired fellow.

sitting right next to a window wasn’t that great of an idea either. the gazes of passersby are starting to linger a few seconds longer on the person in front of you, it’s almost like he’s putting up a show.

though, you couldn’t blame them. he was pretty, clad in formal clothes that complement his lithe form so well, with hair so bright and eyes so colorful you could get lost in them–

but, you wanted to know what his plans are after this. after all, you never know when you’ll meet another individual as interesting as the one in front of you right now.

“are you going somewhere?” you speak.

“it’s my outfit, isn’t it?” he asks sheepishly. you curtly nod.

“ah, well, i’m a performer of sorts,”

“really?”

“really,”

“wow,”

the conversation quickly ends in awkward silence. he hasn’t finished his drink, your paperwork isn’t even nearly done.

well–

“would you like to see a magic trick?”

“so, you’re a magician?” you raise an eyebrow, suddenly even more interested.

“you answered my question with another?”

“you just did what i did,” you point at him, although it’s without malice. you just wanted to learn about what interests him, that’s all.

“just,” he sighs, “‘yes’ or ‘no’?”

a pause.

“ok,” you breathe out. there’s no harm, right?

he pulls out a deck of cards, spreading it out on the table with the back of the cards facing up. he pulls one out with an image of a flower on it. it looks familiar, though you can’t remember its name.

he flips it, the back of the card now facing you. then, he flips it again.

but instead of an image, it’s an actual one.

a flower.

“woah!” you laugh heartily. it was no funny joke or trick, but something about his actions made you feel so giddy and full inside that you couldn’t help but let a smile take over your face.

“for you,” he reaches for your hand and you let him. you let him put the flower in your grasp.

you can’t help but eye the multitude of pigments that the flower is showing. blink and the color you’re looking at is gone, as if the flower was aware of your watchful eyes.

“thank you, um,”

“lyney,” he smiles and your heart skips a beat.

“it’s nice to meet you, lyney,”

“likewise,” he says your name, the letters softly rolling out of his tongue.

[pigeonpeach]

How they would handle a drunk spouse

Warning! ALCOHOL!

Characters: Jean, Diluc, Dehya, Eula, Arlecchino, Navia, Shenhe

A/n: this is a draft that i just fixed up to post. I promise jean x reader will not be forgotten

Cw: fluff, alcoholism. No warnings aside from alcohol!

Jean

She knew Kaeya was a bad influence! Its not entirely his fault but she doesn’t have time to care about your mistake here. You can try to sweet talk her or be all cuddly but shes not holding back on you! You should’ve known better than to get this drunk if you didn’t want to make her worried sick! She goes into overdrive caring for you though. A bucket and water telling you to drink every drop. You aren’t going to bed until she’s sure you feel better because she doesn’t want to wake up to vomit everywhere. Also because you could choke on your own vomit. Its also to help lessen the hangover. Mondstadt is the drinking capital in Teyvat though so there’s definitely more tips she knows just by living there. Despite her being s but mean it does help when you are hungover and less dehydrated than you would’ve been. She made sure to leave you some painkillers and medication for you on the nightstand.

Diluc

“I told you so” kind guy. He’s probably a bit annoyed but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to help. Although he can’t help but find it a little bit amusing the state you’re in. Just giggling and mumbling words. Its kind of cute. Unlike Jean his anger and annoyance lessens the more cuddly you get. His heart melting at the fact that you still seek him out in this inebriated state of yours. He’ll fix you something to sober you up real quick and hold your hair if you vomit. If you have to take a bath he will be there to make sure you don’t drown. Since he is a bartender he has the best knowledge of how to handle hangovers. Next time however you should be careful

Eula

She probably was drinking with you to be honest. But her liver is far stronger than you thought! Seeing you drunk out of your mind she will stop drinking for the night and take you home instead. A gentle bridal style while she takes caution to not upset your tummy. She gets you plenty of water to help sober you up for bed time. You will just have to go along with her word, she isnt entertaining any arguments or resistance from you now! She changes you out of your clothes, ties up your hair, etc. She makes sure you’re nice and cozy for the night before she takes care of herself.

Dehya

She can’t help but find it amusing watching you stumble about. She asks Lambad for some water but she holds it to you so you won’t drop it. She teases you about being a lightweight. But she isn’t finished drinking yet so just hold on! Once you fall over and pass out though she ditches that plan and instead carries you home. A bit difficult considering she too is tipsy but it helps that she’s strong and not nearly as drunk. Nonetheless she tucks you in and sleeps right next to you, making sure you’re pressed up against her so you can be nice and warm.

Arlecchino

She knew you would be a light weight. Just one shot of firewater and you’re out like a light, your head on her thigh as she was reading something. You seem too peaceful to move so she simply lets you stay there. Her hand rummaging through your hair every so often. Occasionally she glances to see your face and smiles. You’re cute like this. Next time she’ll make sure to dilute the firewater properly so she an enjoy your drunken state a little more.

Shenhe

She’s not sure what to do with you actually. Worried that you’ve hit your head she brings you to Bubu pharmacy, to which Baizhu has to explain the difference between a head injury and alcohol. But he sends her off with a few pain meds for you in the morning. She heeds his instructions well. Helping you settle in for a nice rest to sleep it off. She might have gone overboard though because she overdoes it with the blankets and water. But its still appreciated when you wake up with the worst hangover.

Beidou

You crash together. You fall asleep first, in her arms as she eventually falls asleep too , holding you close to her. Both drunk out of your minds you two end up asleep using a tarp as a blanket on the deck of the crux. The crew still mulling and celebrating their most recent success. The crew ends up having to lift you two back to your beds together because even unconscious would Beidou not let go of you. When you wake up she’s far better off than you as she teases you endlessly. Needless to say you two will be chugging water from here on out. At least until the next celebration. Lucky for you she keeps a stash of painkillers for her crew for this specific occasion.

Navia

A relentless teaser! How horrible! She ends up giggling watching you stumble and stutter. She can’t help it! You’re such a silly bean! Once you get sleepy is when she brings you home to rest. With her guards doing the heavy lifting of course. But she’ll do the bathing or changing herself with them casted out of the room. Afterwards she prepares herself for bed, snuggling against you.

In the morning she’ll make her guards get you painkillers and water.