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#he was clearly like ‘well I don’t think husband is right but now I don’t know where to go from here’
r1elle · 2 months
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desperate male lead syndrome is making a strong comeback in 2024 and i’m here for it!! so i wrote about this annoying loser (your honour i love him so much)
husband atsumu drabble because this is what the people want ^^ (i’m people)
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“baby, don’t go looking at yer’ poor husband like that..” atsumu pouts, poking your cheeks at the sight of your evidently disdained face.
okay. you could go do that. you could also just forget the broken ceramic on the floor, still not cleaned up because atsumu would rather make amends with you first than cleaning up the potential risk that was right infront of you both.
honestly, you couldn’t tell whether you should be glad, or concerned.
“i’m not mad at you,’ you say, the expression on your face clearly betraying your words. “don’t worry about it, atsumu.”
you thought that maybe your words would ease the blonde man’s resolve, however it seemed to have only made it worse for him.
“atsumu?! no baby, no love, no ‘tsumu?!” he stresses, hands going up to his mouth.
you stare at his rather dramatic delivery,—and was that the life in his eyes flying away?? he looks like a modern rendition of casper the ghost.
“i’ll do the dishes for a week, no,—a month! i’ll buy ya’ those heels ya’ told me not to buy at the mall!!” atsumu frantically spouts, saying anything he could think of as he continues to cling onto your figure, his face mushing onto your neck and shoulder area.
you shut your eyes. just.. how could you stay annoyed? look at his pouty face, how his ears seemed to be more red than the rest of his skins current complexion. he practically made it impossible for you to even be the least bit mad, and you would’ve felt as guilty as a convict for even attempting to do so. that’s the kind of effect he had on you.
in response, you merely sigh. but there wasn’t any bark to it. “or, you could clean up the shattered pot on the floor.” you say, making sure to bring your tone to a more gentle and reassuring one.
atsumu turns to at you once again, his blonde locks tickling your skin as he moves.
“yer’ not mad anymore?” he beams. “i mean, we could always make another pot, right? how ‘bout it?” he says, hopeful eyes staring directly to your orbs.
in all realness, you genuinely weren’t mad at him, —(as much as he would sulk and say you definitely were), no. you were just sad at the fact that you and atsumu’s ceramic that you both had worked so hard to sculpt and paint on your first date was now shattered on the floor, all but beyond repair.
“i was never mad at you, promise.” you say. “just a bit disappointed. i liked that pot a lot, you know.” your hand reaches for atsumu’s cheek, pinching it slightly. physical touch always seemed to reassure him more than anything else.
atsumu mentally notes that he should make you breakfast in bed the following morning as he stares at your affirming expression. he plants various of pecks on your face after doing so.
“i’m sorry, princess.” atsumu coo’s, his hand pushing away the little hairs on your forehead as he plants a kiss on it.
“i’ll make it up to ya’, i promise.”
— • —
now, you know that you most definitely shouldn’t be all too surprised, considering that, well, —this was miya atsumu we were talking about,
but seriously….
you stare at the little bundle of fur politely sitting on your lap as you rub your eyes, just having come out of your nights sleep. you also happen to notice the smell of pancakes and hot chocolate coming from the bedside table.
“ ‘tsumu, where—?..no, when did you get this dog?”
“i have my ways.” he proudly grins. “but look, it’s yer’ favourite breed!”
“….yes, i know. but where did you—“
“we have a daughter now, hehe.”
“since when did i agre—“
“so adorable, definitely takes after her mommy and daddy. look at the bow on her head!”
“ ‘tsum-“
“i love you.”
“dont change the subject!”
——————————————————————————
atsumu brainrot is real and clocking me out (kageyama i can explain)
update: TYSM for 1k+ notes omg ??!! thank u all for loving this loserboy with me i feel so heard 😢😢🙏🏽
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miley1442111 · 4 months
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clingy- a.hotchner
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summary: aaron acts quite differently with his wife around, which causes eyebrowns to raise and feelings to start getting hurt.
pairing: aaron hotchner x wife! reader
warnings: mildly suggestive, negative self-talk
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You rushed around the corner, only to be met with your brick wall of a husband, Aaron Hotchner. 
“Careful there, sweetheart,” he smiled, his hands circling your waist and holding you to him. 
“Aaron I need to-” you huffed but he cut you off with a quick kiss. 
“You don’t need to do anything,” his hands ventured lower, until he was fully squeezing your ass. 
“Your team will be here any minute,” you sighed. The team had never met you, one of Aaron’s non-negotiables when you two got married, but nothing a year of married bliss and a lot of bribing him with sex couldn’t fix. 
“And everything is ready,” he smiled. “Stop worrying so much.”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, well that’s helpful, thank you so much Sherlock Holmes,” you responded sarcastically and Aaron’s smile turned into a full-on smirk. 
“I love you too.”
You wriggled out of his arms with great effort, and a lot of elbowing him, then it was back to your frantic cooking and cleaning. 
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The team was in shock. They knew that newly-wed SSA Aaron Hotchner was a lot more laid back then before, but when he was with you? All bets were off. His hands stayed firmly on you at all times,  much like his attention. You were clearly used to it, but to the team, your frequent flirty banter was bizarre. How could Aaron Hotchner be this… relaxed?
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You noticed the weird look halfway through the dinner, and kicked Aaron under the table as a way to ask him if he would tune it down. He obliged, albeit confused, and kept his hands to himself for the rest of the night, much to his own dismay. 
Throughout the night, everytime someone made a look or whispered to each other, a sense of dread grew in your stomach. By the end of the night, it got so bad that you just left the room altogether and did the dishes instead. You had a dishwasher, there was no point in hand washing the dishes, but you had to get away from their prying eyes. 
They think you’re weird. They hate that you and Aaron are together. They think he can do so much better. 
Your thoughts were cut off by a hand on the small of your back. 
“Are you alright?” Aaron asked, pressing a kiss to your temple. Usually, his touch would ground you, but tonight it felt like a fire on your skin, one you wanted to put out. You quickly stepped out of his grasp and nodded. 
“Yeah, fine, just tired.”
“Well, people are heading out now, they wanted to thank you.”
“Sounds good,” you mustered up a half-assed smile and followed behind him as the team slowly filtered out of your house in a flurry of ‘thank yous’, ‘see you soons’ and ‘it was delicious’. 
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You spent the rest of the night slightly avoiding Aaron’s touch. When you both sat down to watch a film, you decided it would be the best time to paint your nails, meaning Aaron should obviously sit on the opposite side of the couch, right? He did so without question, but not without a quizzical look. Next it was the bathroom, you sat on the closed toilet, brushing your teeth as Aaron stood in front of the mirror, his eye trained on you. 
Now Aaron was getting worried. Had he done something to annoy you? But then you’d surely talk to him, right? You’d never been one to not communicate, so he was left feeling completely bewildered by the predicament. 
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In bed, he tried to wrap his arms around you, but you brushed him off, saying you were too warm.
“Did I do something?” He asked, turning back on his bedside lamp. 
“No,” you answered, your back still to him.
“Then why won’t you let me touch you?” he asked, rather blatantly. 
You rolled around to look at him, and immediately regretted it. This was so silly. You were getting upset about what a bunch of strangers (to you at least) thought about you and Aaron’s relationship. Fuck them. You started to laugh, embarrassment kicking in as you hid your face in the crook of his neck. He held you there, chuckling softly as he enjoyed the closeness of you after not being close for the past few hours. One thing you hadn’t expected from Aaron is that he was clingy. 
“It’s so dumb,” you giggled. “So you can’t laugh.”
“I won’t,” he smiled and you mustered up your best stern look. “I promise!”
“I was overthinking about what your team thinks of how much we touch each other,” you admitted. Aaron burst out laughing. You playfully hit him on the arm, but started laughing with him.
“That is dumb,” he chuckled.
“Hey!” You scolded, hitting him on the arm again. “That’s-”
“Do you want to know what they said when you were out of the room?” He offered and your interest was piqued. He pulled your hips and sat you on his lap, straddling him as he began to speak again. 
“They said that you were the nicest,” KISS. “Most lovely,”KISS.  “Most beautiful,”KISS. “Woman on the planet,” KISS. “And they could see how happy you make me.”
Your heart swelled. “So… they liked me then?”
Aaron laughed again. “They liked you a lot. Just like I do.”
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)
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𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆; 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒃𝒚
𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; tommy notices your pregnancy before you do
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the night was calm, the moon casting a soft silvery glow through the curtains of the room you and tommy shared. as the streets outside murmured with the remnants of the day, you lay in bed, shifting and turning. the sheets rustled as you tried to find a comfortable position, your restlessness a silent symphony in the dimly lit room.
lying next to you, tommy couldn’t help but notice. his gaze followed the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers absently brushed against the fabric of your shy pink nightie.
after a moment, tommy propped himself up on an elbow, his brow furrowing with a careful mixture of annoyance and concern. you glance at your husband, eyes meeting his icy ones in the quiet of the night.
“can’t sleep?” he asked softly, his voice a low murmur that carried a depth of understanding for your situation.
you sighed, a hint of frustration tugging at your tender lips. “it’s like i can’t get comfortable. oh tommy, i’ve been tossing and turning all night.”
tommy reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against yours. “something botherin’ you, angel?”
you hesitated, gaze holding his for a moment longer before you shook your head. “i just … can’t get comfortable,” you whine, pouting your lips.
he opens his arms for you and you lean into his comfortable embrace. albeit, it was much easier to feel lulled with him beside you. it was a delicacy that had become so fleeting within a few months of marriage. usually he'd come to bed after you'd fallen asleep, and woke before you started to stir.
as the silence lingered, tommy’s gaze softened, his eyes tracing the soft slopes of your face. in that moment, a realization seemed to settle over him, piece by piece, like a puzzle coming together.
“love,” he began slowly, his voice a mix of tenderness and curiosity. “i’ve been noticing things lately. changes.”
you met his gaze, your curiosity piqued. “changes?”
tommy’s fingers brushed against your flushed cheek, his touch gentle as he spoke. “you’ve been feeling sick over certain smells, right? complaining about the food in the kitchen?”
you blinked, clearly taken aback by his sudden but astute observations. “that’s true.”
“ and i’ve noticed you’ve been tired. more than usual,” he continued, his thumb tracing circles on your skin
you nodded slowly, a mixture of surprise and curiosity dawning in your eyes. “i’ve been struggling to keep my eyes open lately.”
tommy paused, his gaze searching yours before he spoke again, his voice softer. “and there’s the restlessness. tossing and turning all night.”
your breath caught as the realization dawned on you, and you met his gaze with a swirling mixture of emotions.
“tommy, what are you…?”
you trail off as his fingers trace your silky nightie that had once fit just right around your curves but was now becoming snug around your waist. his fingers slid down to cup your gently rounded tummy, his touch light and deliberate.
“your hips,” he said, his voice a hushed murmur. “they’re different now. rounder. as well as your tummy…”
you blushed, your nervous laughter a mixture of shyness and surprise. “oh, so you’ve noticed that?”
you'd figured it had something to do with the way you've been indulging lately. you were thankful your husband chose not to mention your newfound voracious appetite. you were ashamed of how unladylike your eating habits had become, especially on nights when your husband didn't accompany you to dinner.
his gaze held yours, his smile tender as he continued to trace over your softer tummy. “couldn’t very well miss it now, could i?”
tommy’s thumb brushed against your knuckles, his touch a reassuring anchor once he sees you flush at his teasing. “don’t worry, angel, it suits you.”
you smile shyly and bury your face into his shoulder. a moment passes and tommy speaks again.
his fingers brushed against your stomach as he spoke, “i think i might know what’s going on, love.”
a beat of silence passes, then, you realize what your husband could be hinting at.
"yeah?" you breathe, staring into your husband's eyes to confirm your suspicions. you'd figured that you might've been carrying when your monthly had failed to arrive for a second month in a row, but it didn't quite register as a concern until tommy had started to notice.
"i think you're expecting." his words are tender, both of you sharing a moment of silent revaluation.
"tommy..."
you hadn't been trying for a baby, though neither of you were opposed to the idea of children. you'd discussed it on your wedding night, and tommy had promised that he'd give you as many children as you wanted under the humble request that he'd be able to have a year to spend with just his wife before adding any new additions.
“i understand if you’re not happy about this, i know you said you—”you begin to ramble, but get cut off by your husband pressing a stern finger over your lips to prevent any more anxious words from waltzing out.
“shh, love,” he murmurs, “‘m happy about it.” your can feel your eyes fill with tears at his words. mood swings already, you think, how did he notice before you did?
“truly?” you look up into his eyes to see a familiar tenderness, reserved only for you and now apparently your child.
he sighs happily and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead.“truly.”
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pedge-page · 9 months
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Mother Who Provides
Joel Miller x F!Reader
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Summary: based off this lovely ask for sub Joel wanting to breastfeed and get jerked off, and hella Mommy kink!
Warnings: Sub!Joel, Mommy kink, breastfeeding, lactation, praise, love biting, assisted m masturbation, male orgasm, cum eating, little belly stuffing because this bitch just loves his Mommy's milk sm
18 + ONLY
- - - -
The first time Joel watched you breastfeed your newborn baby had him feeling all kinds of—different inside. You weren’t totally aware of it at first, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Every time you got up to go feed the little one, he was always within the same room, or meandering in the hall pretending to carry the laundry, or just finding an excuse to sit across from you and watch. 
He thought it was just an awe—here’s the woman of his dreams who just single handedly grew a whole human being in her belly, then pushed it out all by herself after 13 hours of labor, and now is nurturing his child from her own body. You were like a miracle who just kept giving. 
His cock getting hard was just the excitement of how amazing women were. That’s it.
But you had started to notice other things that were strange in his behavior. One time you had gotten up at 3am to feed the baby, Joel still asleep by your side. When you had finished and crawled back in to bed, reaching out for the warm security of his body, he wasn’t there. You groggily waddled down to the kitchen to find your husband chugging a gallon of whole milk like a fish out of water. His eyes fell upon you,  the way you yawned, dressed in a dissheveled night gown and asked if he’s ok, unaware that you were rubbing your sore breasts in your palm. He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, predatory eyes wide as he stares at your chest, ready to pounce on you like a wolf.
You knew pretty well right then what his little “problem” was. 
From then on, you intentionally were seeking him out in tighter shirts so he could see your bouncing swollen breasts more clearly, leaning over in front of him more often, or just straight up asking if he could give you a tits massage. Complaining about how “sore” they felt, or not wanting your milk to go to waste since the baby couldn’t drink it all even after having an entire freezer full. 
You feint a sigh. “Maybe I should donate it…”
“NO!” He shouts a little louder than he intended. “I mean… uh.” He coughs, unable to think of a reasonable excuse.
“Yeah? Who else is going to drink it, Joel?” You taunt. Joel was a tough man, but admitting things that he wanted was difficult to force out of him.
“I—I mean we—we could—“ he shook his head and went to sit on the couch. “Sorry, I mean. That’s a great idea. You should do that. Be nice for other moms.”
Joel wrings his hands together and looks away, clearing his throat.
You stride over to him and straddle his hips, his pupils going big with shock. You sit up on your knees with him caged under you, your breasts level with his nose as you rub your fingers through his brown curly hair. “Is that what you want?”
You can see the way his eyes are trained forward, looking at the swollen nipples poking through your tank top. He swallows heavily and licks his lips, hands resting on your waist, fighting the urge to bite.
“No…” he whispers softly.
“No? Is there someone else who should get Mommy’s milk?” You tease.
He closes his eyes, a low growl rumbling in his throat. 
“Speak, baby boy.”
“M-Me,” he says, head tilted up to you as he nuzzles the scruff of his cheek into your chest. You cup his head to firmly press his face harder, his nose gliding along the cleavage as he inhales your scent sharply. His hands creep up along your sides before grasping the droopy fat of the underside of your breasts, making you gasp.
You don’t even need to sit down on him fully to feel the tent poking your clit as you hover over him. He squeezes your tits roughly before wrapping his teeth around a nipple and tugging gently, releasing it with a satisfying bounce back in to place. The result was a slight damp spot around the peak where a drip of your milk seeped out. 
And Joel Miller fucking whimpers for the first time in his life.
You hum in delight. “Can you ask Mommy nicely?”
He doesn’t hesitate: “Please, can I have Mommy’s milk?”
Holy fuck, you’re a sucker for your man.
-
Now a half hour later, Joel is still greedily suckling at your tit as if being starved his whole life. You’re sitting on the couch  while cradling Joel’s head in your lap, having him lying down on his back in the perfect position for the milk in your breasts to just flow right into his hungry mouth.
His eyes are closed, jaw working open as his lips suction tightly, gulping your sweetness. You stroke the greying hairs on his cheek, feeling the way he hums contently vibrate against your skin.
He feels safe like this, in such a vulnerable position. The idea of protecting you, being on guard, defensive, all of that stress melts away while being swaddled by you. He can let go of worry, of anxiety, taking deep breaths and feeding soothingly under the gently, nurturing embrace of his beautiful, life-giving wife.
You had palmed his hard-on the entire time, not releasing it quite yet until you were satisfied with how full his tummy had grown. You could even hear the little sloshes of bubbles in his stomach as it filled with new nutrients. He’d let out a tiny whimper, milk caught in his throat when you’d squeeze around his base possessively before returning to your palming. His precum smears along his thigh and shorts. 
“You’re so hungry, baby,” you coo, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “This whole time you just wanted a taste of Mama’s milk, hmm?”
He nods absentmindedly, refusing to let go of your golden titty. 
Unsatisfied with his response, you grip his hair and yank his head down, his lips detaching and falling away from your breast. He lets out a needy whine and stares at you. “Y-yes Mommy. Wanted your milk. Please can I have some more?”
You giggle and nod. His tongue darks out to lick the little drips that had trickles down before attaching back to your nipple and suckling happily.
You pull his throbbing length out though the hole in his boxers. “Gimme a little spit,” you command softly.
Joel sits his head up, cheeks full of milk. You put your hand out in front of his lips as he release the creamy substance into your palm. Your newly silkened hand finds its way back to wrap around his base before stroking him. 
“Ohhhhh f-fuck Mommy!” he groans, eyes closed and leaning back against your thigh. But the sensation was too good, hips bucking up that he had to force his chin back up to continue watching. Your fingers expertly curled around his mushroom tip with each pass, the assistance of the milk acting as a lubricant. He licked his upper lick, his leg twitching with how hot it felt. You lean forward a bit and push your tit closer to his lips again. His eyes dart to you, tongue sticking out to capture your nipple again before resuming his impatient guzzling.
“Naughty, boy, getting all hard when drinking from Mommy’s tit.” You swirl his slit with the tip of your nail, his steady flow of precut oozing out and mixing with the milk. You feel his throat flex with each stutter, his mind reeling in and out of sanity, fists balled at his sides to avoid taking control. Joel’s lips were a sin everywhere else on your body, and this moment was no different. They were full, pouty, and his lower lip juts out enough to be able to easily catch your nipple and hold on with each insatiable gulp.
“Maybe I should bottle it up and let you bring it to work with you. Can share your special bottle with the other boys,” you laugh.
Joel growls angrily, browns crunched as he bites your nipple possessive. 
You hiss out in pain, fisting his curls once again. “Ow! Bite me again and you’re done,” you warn. His face relaxes, eyes staring up at you with sorrow as you resume your pace pumping his shaft.
“Ah-m srorry—Momm-ee,” he mumbles against the fat of your breasts, soothing over his bite mark with his warm wet tongue. 
You sigh deeply. The weight on your chest is almost fully lifted now that Joel has swallowed so much of the milk that had built up.
Your baby was just so little right now, there was only so much he could fill in his tiny body, leaving you aching, heavy, and swollen all day and night. But your full grown 5’11 200 pound hunk of a husband? He could drink for HOURS and drain you completely so that fresh milk can replenish your system just for your baby. 
“Maybe we should make your feeding a regular thing too. Would you like that?” You hum. You increase the speed of your hand, now jerking his cock violently.
“Ahh—ah! Ye-oh fuck, fuck Mommy—yes, yes I want it!”
“Yeah? You wanna be full of Momma’s milk all the time? Bet you wanna cum too. Taking such good care of me, I think you deserve a reward.”
He swallows another big load before his panting forces him away, creamy liquid spilling over his cheeks. “Ah—ugh-ugh oh fuck, fuck yeah! Wanna cum, wanna cum on Mommy’s hand, please! Please, keep tuggin’ my dick just like that, Fuck! FUCK yes Mommy!”
His mouth falls open, breath caught in his throat as you feel his hips raising off the couch slightly. You take the opportunity to lean forward and shove as much of your tits in his mouth as you can, suffocating him. His eyes roll back as the first of his cum spews up into the air, followed up big spurts rapidly shooting as you violently work his cock.
“Shhhh, that’s it, that’s my good boy, keep cumming all over Mommy’s hand, such a good boy. Don’t forget keep drinking your special milk. Mommy made it just for you.” You bite your lip at the idea of motherhood just falling so easily over you.
His whole body shutters, moaning and sucking around your breasts, unsure what to do with himself as he keeps cumming in your hand. His dick pulses the last of his spent, dribbling globs of sticky, thick semen all over your fingers and his full stomach. He quivers from the overstimulation, suppressing a burp. 
You remove your hand, caressing the heft of his bulging stomach just as he takes a deep breath through his nose, calming his breathing. He opens his eyes to see you licking the glorious mess of his cum off of your palm, each finger dipping in to your sinful mouth and sucking his spend clean. 
“Fuuucckkkk, that’s hot. Eatin my cream when I drink yours.” His eyes are positively drunk off of you. He babbles quickly: “Wanna keep ya milkin’ every year. Kids or not. These tits are mine. Keep me stuffed full of ya sweet cream, Momma. Never need to buy dairy again. Just drink it straight from the tap.”
You grab his hands down by his side and bring them up to your tits, guiding him to rub your sore breasts gently. “Gotta work them up to get more in you.”
Joel doesn’t argue, taking over the movement and squeezing your breast like icing bag, bringing your nipple back down to his lips as he milks more of your love into his mouth.
- - - -
Permanent taglist
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zhongrin · 2 years
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“no, i’m not jealous.”
— he is, most definitely, jealous.
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◇ characters ◇ zhongli (ft. platonic!childe), al haitham, ayato, cyno
◇ tags ◇ fluff, crack, (character) is so totally not jealous, okay? okay.
◇ a/n ◇ i wrote this at like 2am don’t @/ me-
bad summary of content utc: 1) rip childe. 2) legends say you can foretell your future by the shape of al haitham's pecs. 3) ayato vs taroumarou; who wins? the result might surprise you. 4) cyno just wants some cuddles someone save him.
𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
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zhongli, jealous? ridiculous.
zhongli is unyielding and self-assured. he was a revered archon, for celestia’s sake; he knows he’s wanted, and even now as a mortal he’s not foreign to the longing looks, stuttered words, and the blushes that rise to his fellow mortals’ cheeks whenever he speaks to them.
and you - you want him just as much, if not more; yet you’re different than the others in the way that you’ve successfully managed to carve a perfect little home in his heart and chose to stay there, much to his delight.
you’ve promised him your heart and the entirety of your life. he’s promised you happiness and his eternal love. you’ve been bound by the most sacred contract of all, the proofs of your vows to each other clearly wrapped onto your ring fingers.
so really, what would such petty, shallow emotion like jealousy serve?
“wow, you’re really good with your hands!”
“i’m not sure if being able to use chopsticks is a good measurement of one’s proficiency with their hands, but... thanks?”
“isn’t it harder to-” childe pauses to speak when you offer him a bite of sweet-and-sour pork and rice, gratefully takes the food, and hums in appreciation before continuing his words, “-feed others with a chops-”
“chew and swallow first; you’ll choke.”
the harbinger obediently obeys, but not before chirping a playful “okay mom/dad!” with his mouth full. you sigh and turn towards your abnormally silent lover, finding him barely picking at his own food.
“li? why aren’t you eating?”
“hm? i was just… thinking.”
“thinking,” you repeat with a fond roll of your eyes and a teasing grin on your lips, “when are you not? well, i’m sure you haven’t forgotten how to use chopsticks, so i don’t need to feed you, right?”
your husband’s lips part, as if he wanted to say something, but right at the same moment, you notice childe trying to pick up his rice, failing miserably with his horrible chopsticks control. as if on autopilot, you used your utensils to pick up the grains from his bowl into his mouth.
zhongli’s words fizzle on his tongue. the way you fuss over the brunette fuels the rumbling growls of the slumbering dragon which has been sleeping for eons, slowly baring its fangs inside his chest. gloved fingers wrap around his teacup a tad too tight, but alas, you fail to notice your brooding husband's silent fury.
he knows it’s just your instinct, to care for others and to cater to other people’s happiness. it’s one of the traits he adores from you. if anything, it looks more like a parent-child(e) relationship rather than that of lovers - besides, no personage living in liyue would think of you as the snezhnayan's significant other. that, he is confident of.
but do you really have to hand-feed a grown-up man - a fatui harbinger who almost leveled your whole nation onto the seabed at that - who was most definitely capable of feeding himself, and with your chopsticks nonetheless- wait.
before you can bring the two sticks anywhere near the plates containing childe’s food, your husband's hand gently pushes your chopsticks away. upon the questioning arch of your eyebrows, he opts for a patient and calm-sounding tone, “darling, please. eat. you haven’t touched your food for far too long.”
he then replaced your set of utensils with his own; the movement so smooth and natural you didn’t even notice, before turning to childe and scooping the extra spicy vegetable stir fry towards the brunette.
childe’s blue eyes widen in half shock and half embarrassment, and you nearly choke on your food at the comical sight.
“um-”
“eat.”
“a-ah, miss xiangling, can i have a spoo-”
“eat.”
no, he most definitely isn’t jealous.
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“-who’s my prettiest boy? yes you are!”
“… what in teyvat are you doing?”
you blink innocently at your boyfriend, who had just woken up judging from the way his coat is still missing from his person, and momentarily your eyes flit downwards to appreciate the way his muscles look in his tight black bodysuit.
hmmm. ah, yes. you can see it from the way his abs look today. it is going to be a good day.
“hey,” a condescending snap of his fingers right in front of your face, and you glare at the smug expression on al haitham's face, “eyes up here.”
“i wasn’t looking at your pecs.”
“i never said anything like that.”
“not your manboobs either.”
“for the hundredth time, i do not have manboobs. and for the second time, i never said nor implied anything even remotely close to that.”
“well, i would like to inform you that i was not.”
al haitham gives you a knowing smirk and you huff in embarrassment, choosing to ignore him by looking away and refocusing on the tiny sprout (the actual plant, not that little adorable sprout on the top of his head), smiling and going back to the higher, loving pitch you used previously.
“i’m sorry baby, ignore mr. narcissist over there. now. you’re growing up so well! i can’t wait to see you grow taller and see the beautiful blooms you make! i just know my little pogchamp will-”
“what in lord kusanali’s name are you doing?”
“shut your damn mo- ahem!” you sigh and throw a pointed look at the scribe, “i am conducting a research, mind you. kindly fu- i mean- kindly ignore me and go prepare for your day.”
“enlighten me, then. what kind of research involves baby-talking to a plant?”
you roll your eyes and turn to address him properly, “ugh, fine, if you’re soooo curious, i’ll tell you. so, i read a research journal that testified something along the line of ‘speaking positive words, such as encouragements and praises to a plant, will aid its growth and make them bloom faster’. i’m trying to test that theory. now - this is veveh. i am going to tell him he’s a good, beautiful boy every day and praise him and sing for him. that one,” you point towards the plant at the far opposite side of the room near the windows, “is hawky. i’m going to tell him he’s a bast- the opposite of what veveh is. and we have [nickname] in our bathroom, which will be the control group. i’m going to give them all an equal amount of sunlight and water, and i have a journal and a kamera to regularly record the state of the plants. i plan to monitor them at least three times a day, and-”
“and who named these stupid plants?”
you gasp, scandalized, and swiftly move to cover veveh as if you’re covering a child’s ears from harmful words. which, in this case, the image isn’t far from the truth in your eyes.
“hey!! what did i say?! watch your words!! and it was kaveh’s idea!”
“of course it was,” the scholar sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are you not my significant other? surely you’re smart enough to notice the implications behind the names and the assignments of the roles. why would you agree to make the plant named after me the specific sample that would have to suffer from derogatory words?”
“…”
“…”
“…… wait, haitham, are you jealous?”
al haitham blinks and looks at you as if you’ve told him that you’ve replaced him as the akademiya’s scribe and he’s been exiled from the akademiya because his performance is unsatisfactory.
“i never said anything like that.”
“awww, would you like me to tell you you’re a good boy too? want me to tell you how pretty and lovely you are? how you’re doing suuuuch a good job at work? oh, sweetums-”
“i will be leaving now, you’re creeping me out.”
you giggle uncontrollably and lean closer to the tiny plant, snickering and lowering your voice into a whisper as you watch your beloved running away in embarrassment finally leaving you to your own devices, “hey, veveh. your dad is adorable, isn’t he?”
. . . ⚘ ⚘ ⚘
veveh ends up flourishing and its first flower bloomed way ahead of the two, therefore concluding your research on a high note. however, the morning after you submit your first draft of your thesis, you find the plant missing.
instead, in its place is hawky. you also find your boyfriend sitting right beside it, reading his advanced quantum theories book outloud.
yes, your boyfriend is truly very adorable indeed.
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ayato loves dogs, he really does.
he also does not condone animal abuse, and that principle is currently the only thread that’s preventing him from pushing the animal away from your lap. your lap, which should have been his pillow. his much-needed, much-deserved, comfiest pillow on teyvat that could make him fall asleep in minutes and is the only reason he would skip work.
“oh, darling, i thought you were busy?” you ask in surprise upon seeing his form standing by the door.
“i needed a break, i was getting a little stressed,” he says, walking towards your side to sit on the cushion, hoping you’ll catch on to what he’s implying with both his words and actions.
your eyes are shining as you regard him, and his heart jumps-
“good job, i’m happy you’re not overworking yourself, love.”
“... why, thank you.”
you nod and glance down as taroumaru twitches and whines in his sleep, crooning softly at the adorable sight of the animal’s twitching legs.
“i wonder what he’s dreaming about,” you giggle softly.
ayato doesn’t understand how you can make him feel as if he’s falling in love with you all over again, yet at the same time, you make him want to punch the nearest wall in frustration.
with a tired sigh, he flops his head onto your shoulder it should have been your lap darn it and he nuzzles into the fabric of your kimono like a cat that’s seeking attention. the sweet soft laugh escapes your lips once more and he waits.
….
….
.... your hands are still petting the dog.
this is ridiculous, he thinks. the mutt is asleep; surely you would turn your attention to your poor fiancé, right? surely you wouldn’t be so heartless as to ignore him when he’s seeking you out like this? surely you would pity his overworked self and grant him some comfort even just a little-
“you really don’t have any meetings?”
“…. no, i don’t,” he hums casually and adds an exaggerated yawn.
“i think you need a nap, ayato.”
one of your hands finally rests upon his cheek and caresses his skin lovingly. a content little smile stretches his lips, but it disappears when your touch retreats all too soon for his liking.
maybe he should consider having a ‘no pets allowed in kamisato estate’ rule.
the door suddenly slides open to reveal thoma, who took one good look at the two of you and being the ever so polite man that he is, immediately splutters an apology for interrupting what seemed to be an intimate, relaxing moment between lovers.
the yashiro commissioner seizes the chance.
“it's fine, thoma. you’re here to take taroumaru on a walk, yes?”
at the keyword, the canine’s ears flick and his beady eyes open.
“huh? no, i just-”
“wonderful! why don’t you take him on a long walk, i’d say he’s just itching for some exercise after napping for so long.”
“eh? um-” thoma freezes at the cold smile on the young master’s face and forces a laugh at your inquiring gaze, “-y-yeah! waka is completely right! c’mon boy, it’s time for your walk!”
with a happy bark, the dog leaps out from your lap and bounds towards the housekeeper, who gave the two of you a sheepish nod before sliding the door shut.
ayato hums in satisfaction and reclaims his throne. without him even needing to ask, your fingers settle onto his blue locks, blunt nails scratching his scalp. you bend down to place a loving peck on his forehead, your scent envelopes his senses, and he melts.
ah, the taste of victory is always sweet.
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“just one more game!”
“but love-”
“just one more game, please please please please!”
cyno sighs, “you said the same thing three rounds ago.”
i’m tired, i want to cuddle you now, the general mahamatra tries to telepathically communicate right into your brain by staring at you with his soft and downturned vermillion eyes. alas, you are too focused on refining your tcg deck and testing it against the man and the legend himself.
“i swear this time it’ll really be the last!!”
being a rather new player that you are, you’re still clumsy in your actions and strategies, but he can sense you improving with every match you lost. the way you’re so passionate and fully throw yourself into the things you’re interested in never fails to bring a sense of pride into his heart, but seriously - even the most serious of men needs a cuddle every now and then. plus, you fit so well into his arms! can you blame him for being a little needy after a whole three hours of being denied any sort of affection despite the fact that you’re seated right across this stupid table??
you can’t and you shouldn't.
“you promise this will be the last round?”
“for today, yes!”
your boyfriend sighs and nods. yes, his need to cradle you in his arms is overwhelming. but when you look at him with eyes that shine brighter than the stars in the desert at night, how can he refuse? he’d give you a whole oasis if you asked for it. he can last just one more round of tcg.
... right?
cyno swears it has to be the longest match of his life.
you’re so cute when you’re thinking over your actions; eyes gazing upon your cards and his in contemplation as you mumble strategies under your breath. you’re so cute when you do a little cheer as the dice gods graced you with luck on your dice rolls. you’re so cute when you gasp in awe as he pulls a rather tricky maneuver that ruined your plans to attack his deck in this round.
archon kusanali give him strength, for you’re so cute and he wants a cuddle so badly.
“nooooooo,” you cry out in despair as he downs the last two of your characters at the same time with a well-timed elemental reaction, your body slumping against the table.
cyno can’t help but smile, although he does feel a bit bad from beating you yet again, so he decides to give you a little tip to hopefully cheer you up, “almost got me there. why don’t you try using a freeze team next time? you have the cards for it, and i think it'll suit your playstyle.”
at once, your head snaps up and you meet his gaze with determined eyes.
oh.
oh, he just dug a grave for himself didn’t he.
“[name]-”
“you’re right. let me- let me rebuild my deck, wait-”
“you promised-”
“i know, i know! just- fifteen minutes! give me fifteen minutes!!”
cyno wishes he could bang his head against the table, rattle his stupid brain and zip big mouth shut.
he just wants a cuddle.
why is it so hard to get a cuddle?
what’s a man gotta do these days for a cuddle??
cyno sees you staring at your character cards with your hand on your chin, clearly in deep thought. your boyfriend then opts to glare at his character cards, as if they were the ones who had stolen his cuddles, but a few seconds into that and he scoffs, looking away to the side as warmth rapidly bloomed across his cheeks.
seriously, what kind of man gets jealous of a card game?
but cuddles...
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© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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thewritetofreespeech · 2 months
Text
A Whole New World
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pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader
summary: in the wake of all the rats abandoning ship, you ask Aemond to leave King's Landing with you as well. [sort of in the vein of my tv show series?? mostly because I want to keep it seperate from the rest of my HOTD stuff that is more book related. part -X XX XXX]
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“Let’s leave this place.”
Aemond looked up at you from his table. Maps and plans littering the surface. There were not enough hours in the day to make headway on a plan to attack or thwart Rhaenyra, so they had moved into your bedroom. “We will leave for Harrenhall in a few days’ time.” He told you. “We will be off soon enough.”
“No, I mean leave this place.” You told him. “Leave Westeros.”
Your husband looked shocked at your suggestion. Understandably. “You would have me leave Westeros. Leave my birthright.”
“It is not yours Aemond.” It was a bitter truth, but a truth none the less, and you were the only one that could tell him that without threat of death.
None of this was supposed to be theirs. Aegon nor Aemond. Deep down they all knew that. Knew that Viserys had not wavered in his final moments on who his favorite child was. Who his first and only was. Alicent could have given the former king 100 sons, and it would not have made up for the one he lost with his first wife. “Rhaenyra now has 7 dragons to our 1 with her dragon mongrels taking flight. Besides which her armies.”
“I have Vhagar!” Aemond shouted in anger. Rising to his feet. “The oldest, strongest, largest dragon in all Seven Kingdoms.”
“And a pack of wild dogs can take down a lion if their numbers are great. I am not trying to upset you Aemond, I’m simply following the maths.”
The prince took a deep breath though his nose and turned from you. Annoyed that you were right, but clearly didn’t want to admit it. “You want me to abandon the city, ney? Run away and hide like the rest of those cowards!”
Aegon had left the city, for his own protection. To where, you could not be sure. That may have been by design as many whispered about how Aemond would kill him in his bed if given the chance. You knew he wouldn’t do that; if for nothing else than the simple fact that it would be dishonorable to murder a cripple in their bed unarmed. His mother had been missing for days at a time now. Uninterested in the war efforts since her dismissal from the council. Such was her right, but the fact that she wouldn’t look you in the eye these days did not grant you comfort on what the former Queen was thinking. The rest seemed to slip out under the cover of darkness. Less and less people seemed to be in the castle. The rats saw that the ship was sinking and were abandoning it quickly.
“I don’t want you to ‘run away’ Aemond. I want you to live.”
Aemond huffed and turned from you again. “Better to die in battle then wither in obscurity.”
“And if you die, and Rhaenyra takes the city, what of me then? Die an honorable suicide like the Queens of old? Be a political prisoner here until the Queen forces me to marry one of her bastard heirs as a good will gesture?”
That got Aemond’s attention. The idea that you could die not nearly as infuriating as the thought that one of Rhaenyra’s “strong boys”, or even her Targaryen brood, would touch you. “That would never happen.”
“You’re right. It wouldn’t. Rhaenyra would have to kill me. If not for the simple fact that I would not bend the knee, but also for the fact that I am a charge to her claim.”
Your hand came to rest at your stomach. Still the same, but not for long. Aemond’s eye followed your hand, and his expression turned to shock before you raised his face to look at you with your other hand. “There are more world out there, my love. Across the Narrow Sea. Beyond. We could take Vhagar and make a new kingdom like your ancestors. We don’t have to stay here and fight over this one. We could have so much more.”
Aemond’s gaze dropped from your hold, but he took your hand at his cheek and held it. “You would have me abandon my family? Turn my back on them?”
“Have they not turned their back on you?” They blamed Aemond for everything. As if he put Aegon up on that stage and gave him a crown. You weren’t naïve enough to think your husband was blameless in his actions during this war, but they were looking for a scapegoat at this point and Aemond was the convenient target. “We are each other’s family now. We are all that matters.”
“Daeron….”
“He can come with us.” You felt maddened to the point of tears. You were fond of Daeron, the few times you had met. A sweet boy who was free of this place. Though you would honestly say anything to Aemond at this point to get him to come. “Helaena too, if you wish. We will fly to some far away place like Aegon and his sisters. Just please….please…let us leave this place.”
Aemond seemed to think about it for a long moment, before he gave you his answer and that was the end of it.
In the morning, Vhagar took flight over the city. Whether she went to Harrenhall with her rider or parts unknown, no one could know then. What was sure, as the histories tell us, was that it would be the last time the great dragon, her rider, or his wife ever came back to the city.
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novaursa · 12 days
Note
You are an absolutely amazing writer and I adore all your stories.
If your requests for short stories are still open, I would like to request one with Cregan Stark and Targaryen reader where she is pregnant with their first child and gets jealous because Cregan is being secretive and she catches him few times talking to some of his closest men and mentioning an unknown female name. One day she can't take it anymore and confronts him. It turns out he found injured pregnant female direwolf and was taking care of her and her pups which he wants to gift to their child. (It would be fun if reader has already dragon but bonds with direwolf mom as well).
Daisy
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Requests are closed!
- Summary: Heavy with your and Cregan’s first child, you get suspicious when your husband starts to sneak out to see Daisy. 
- Paring: targ!reader/Cregan Stark
- Note: The reader is bonded with Silverwing. For more of my works, visit my blog. The first list is pinned to the top.
- Rating: Mild 13+
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess
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You pace back and forth, hands resting on the swell of your belly, anxiety bubbling like a cauldron on a fire. Your gaze drifts to the furs on the floor of your chambers, the large bed that feels far too empty most nights as of late, and the flickering light of the hearth that does little to soothe the unease gnawing at your mind. Cregan has been… distracted. He leaves early in the morning, returns late, his excuses as thin as the northern air.
And Daisy.
You’ve overheard him whispering that name, hushed and guarded, always to his most trusted men. Every time you approach, the conversation stops abruptly, like the snap of a trap. It's enough to make any woman suspicious—especially a woman heavy with child, swollen with not only your firstborn but a mix of anticipation, anxiety, and perhaps a bit of jealousy.
"Silverwing," you murmur, glancing toward the small window. Though your beloved dragon isn't visible from the Keep, you know she’s nearby, perched on the cliffs, her silver scales glinting in the pale sun. "Do you know what he’s up to?" But if she does, she offers no response.
You frown. Even your dragon seems to be in on this secret. Traitor.
Another morning arrives, and Cregan departs before dawn breaks. The soft murmur of his voice filters through the stone walls as he speaks to his men again, and you catch it—Daisy.
That’s it. You’ve had enough. It’s time for answers.
You pull a thick cloak around your shoulders and storm down the stone corridors of Winterfell. The biting northern wind whips at your face as you march toward the stables, where Cregan is often found before heading into the woods. Your feet, swollen and heavy, protest with every step, but nothing can stop you now.
There he is, standing with a few of his men, his tall figure unmistakable even through the morning mist. You watch as they exchange low words, but the moment he spots you, they scatter like children caught stealing sweets. You fix Cregan with a glare that could burn the snow around you.
"What is going on, Cregan Stark?" you demand, hands on your hips, the weight of your belly only adding to the intensity of your stance. "And who is Daisy?"
He blinks at you, clearly caught off guard by your sudden confrontation. "Daisy?"
"Yes, Daisy," you repeat, not giving him a chance to deflect. "I’ve heard you speaking about her. And don’t lie to me, Cregan, I’m pregnant, not deaf."
He opens his mouth, closes it, and then rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit you’ve come to recognize. "Y/N," he begins slowly, "it’s not what you think."
"Oh, it never is," you snap, your voice rising. "You're sneaking around, speaking in hushed tones, all while I’m here, waddling about, wondering if my husband has taken to… to some northern woman!"
"Some—" Cregan’s eyes widen, and for a moment, his usually serious expression cracks into a brief smile. He quickly wipes it away, knowing well enough that your temper is not to be tested right now. "No, no, love. You’ve got it all wrong."
"I do, do I?" you huff. "Then explain. Who is Daisy?"
There’s a pause, then he sighs, realizing there’s no more avoiding this. "Follow me."
Still seething, you follow him into the woods just beyond the walls of Winterfell. The snow crunches under your boots, and the cold air stings your cheeks. You consider demanding answers again, but before you can open your mouth, Cregan stops beside a small thicket, gestures for you to come closer.
He kneels, parting the branches, revealing a small, hidden hollow where something stirs. Your breath catches as you peer inside.
Lying there, curled up with her pups, is a massive female direwolf. Her fur is thick and silver, speckled with dirt and a few patches of blood—recent wounds from a hunt gone wrong, it seems. But even in her injured state, she exudes strength, a fierce protectiveness as she shields her young.
"This is Daisy," Cregan says softly. "I found her a few weeks ago, injured and alone. Her pack must’ve been killed, but she survived with her pups. I’ve been taking care of them, bringing them food, tending to her wounds."
You blink, feeling the confusion melt into something else. "...You’ve been sneaking out to care for wolves?"
"Aye." Cregan chuckles lightly, glancing up at you. "Not just any wolves, love. I wanted to surprise you. I thought… a direwolf pup would be a fitting gift for you and our child. A symbol of the North, something to protect the little one, like Silverwing does for you."
Your heart softens as you watch the direwolf, her eyes meeting yours for a moment. "So… you weren’t keeping secrets from me about another woman?"
Cregan grins, a lopsided, boyish smile that makes your irritation melt away. "No. Only Daisy here."
You cross your arms, feeling more than a little foolish now, though your pride won’t let you admit it outright. "And why didn’t you tell me sooner?"
"I wanted it to be a surprise," he says, rising to his feet and wrapping an arm around you. "But you caught on quicker than I expected."
You narrow your eyes at him playfully. "You know what’s worse? Silverwing knew, too. She didn’t say a word."
Cregan laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Ah, dragons and direwolves—more loyal to each other than to us, it seems.
You huff, but you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face as you lean into him, the warmth of his embrace chasing away the chill. “Next time, Cregan Stark, no more secrets. Wolves, dragons, or otherwise.”
“Agreed,” he murmurs, his hand resting on your belly. “I’ll share everything with you from now on, Y/N.”
As you both stand there, watching the direwolf and her pups, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. The North, with its biting winds and endless snow, feels a little warmer now—filled with the promise of new life, both yours and the wild creatures that will grow beside your family.
"Perhaps we'll name our child Daisy," you tease, elbowing him gently.
Cregan groans. "Gods, no. One Daisy in this family is enough."
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pearlywritings · 3 months
Text
To think of lace - to lose one's mind
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synopsis: that little game of teasing you started back home promises to keep your husband on his toes throughout the whole day. Will he manage to endure? And is it really a punishment or more like a reward?
pairing and characters: Alhaitham x fem!reader
tw: SMUT, established relationship (marriage), lingerie, petting, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex
word count: 6.7k+ words
a/n: this the second part of A slip of the tongue and I highly recommend to read it first!
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Ever since you bid your goodbyes to Kaveh and left the house, Alhaitham has been glued to your side. With your fingers wrapped around his wrist the two of you had a nice morning walk to the top of the enormous tree, where, upon entering the Akademyia, you immediately had many eyes drawn to you. It is almost funny how some of the students still get that stupefied look on their faces whenever your husband is spotted with you by his side, clearly not looking like simple colleagues.
You, however, ignore them, turning the opposite to the House of Daena direction and making your way to the auditorium of where your defense will take place.
The nuisance still appears in the form of some senior student, who practically jumps in your path and waves a stack of documents in your husband’s face. Oh, looks like someone is brave this morning.
“Scribe Alhaitham, I need your approval for-”
“Declined,” the man doesn’t even stop in his way, momentarily wrapping an arm around your waist and moving your bodies to step around the young scholar.
“What!?”
“Check my working hours next time. Besides today I do not accept anyone in my office or outside of it,” his hand squeezes your hip a little, and you roll your eyes with a smile. Of course, because he is making his priorities right.
Leaving the stunned student behind, you take a turn to the next corridor, which is notably emptier, and you cannot help, but tease him.
“Oh, am I making my dear husband abandon his duties? What a bad wife I am…”
“You are my duty too. So technically I don’t slack off,” his face remains stoic, though you take notice of how his hand still lingers on your hip - usually he is never this handsy in public.
“Sure, sure, if you say so,” chuckling, you lean into his side. The rest of the walk remains silent.
On the inside, however, Alhaitham’s thoughts are all over the place like an annoying buzz. The primary one is understanding that under these few layers of clothing the thin lace is kissing your skin, and his palm is directly there. The second one is of irritation, that you let him take a look, but never appreciate it properly. The third one is cursing at himself for being ruled by the thoughts of how appealing your body is, wrapped in that set of lingerie, looking like a perfect temple to worship. The fourth is rolling his eyes for the last comparison he did - Kaveh’s antics do rub off on him it seems. The current one is realizing that the next time he’ll manage to get a glimpse of the tempting sight is only back home, and until then it’s going to be many excruciatingly long hours.
Today is your test for becoming a Dastur. Right now it is his test for patience and sanity.
He manages to calm his heated mind down when you leave his side to go to the special stage from where you’d be holding your speech. The Scribe joins other attendants and members of the certification committee, but sits as far as he can and alone, to escape unwanted discussions and make his presence forgotten. Because he is here only for you, and he knows that you see him very well from where you are standing.
You smile when your gazes lock, and warmth spreads in his chest, which quickly travels south, when your fingers, as if smoothing your tunic, brush right where he knows the hem of your stocking is. Yes, it is indeed a test for his patience.
The title and introductory part is all good - his mind is cleared once again, and he admires the way you talk and demonstrate the valuable information on the slide behind you. But the longer he watches your lips move and body slightly sway and bounce when you take steps across the stage, the thinner becomes the string of self-restraint for not sliding his eyes all over your figure, imagining your without such unnecessary clothes. Until it snaps and he does. It’s a simple action, really - and no one would’ve noticed it, had they not been Alhaitham, who has been watching you like a hawk - you take a sip of the water. Just a sip, but the tiny droplet that escapes the corner of your mouth and slides down your neck and disappears under the hem of your shirt, makes the clothes before his eyes completely disappear, gleaming orbs following the imaginary path of the cooling bead on your smooth skin.
Has it been long since the last time the two of you were intimate? There is no other explanation for the man’s easily-rising excitement rather than the combination of the sexy look of his beloved wife and the lack of bedroom activities in the past month - you were too busy with preparing for your presentation, and he had a work trip somewhere along the way. He’d come home, eat dinner with you, spend time together, reviewing your work or enjoying reading his book and then go straight to bed. Of course he took notice that your visits to his office during hours at the Akademiya got fewer, but with how hectic your lives are, he didn’t give it much thought. Well, he should have.
And he definitely will tonight.
His strayed attention is back to reality and you manage to catch that moment, when in the clouded eyes appears the sparkle of clarity. Oh, you are enjoying this so much. Whatever your husband may say about Kaveh - the architect is a freaking genius. It was his idea to give Alhaitham some eye candy and then tease by not giving him more. At first you did not believe it would work, to which your blond friend only rolled his eyes dramatically, picking up his mug, and claiming that he was not blind and saw the way the ash-haired man at times devoured you with his eyes alone. Now, you see the artist really has a keen eye.
Yesterday you truly were annoyed with your partner (in the beginning) - even for a moment he didn’t want to stop and think and carefully choose his words and show you that he understands that you want some support from him and not a lecture. So now, even though you no longer hold any grudge against him, the payback feels so great. Besides you weren’t lying - having witnessed how the man was looking at you in the morning with a hardly concealed desire to touch boosts your confidence.
You want the typically reserved man to squirm.
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Three hours. It's been three, goddamn, hours, that could have been one, if it hadn't been unnecessarily stretched with the attendees' stupid questions. Alhaitham didn't even care what looks he could attract, when he grabbed your hand and led you to his office, after you were dismissed for the committee to start an equally long discussion about your academic destiny.
The fireflies were bumping all over the walls of your heart when your husband finally dragged you inside the secluded space and slammed the door closed, locking it. It was your initiative, however, to take a hold of his cape's lapels and draw him close, luring him into a kiss. Your plan is far from its end after all.
"Habibti…" his voice is so breathless, hushed words caressing your plump lips, before he dives in again, kissing them, holding you tightly between his toned body and the wall in his office. You are so pliable in his arms, leaning into him, embracing his neck, fingers burying in the short hairs at the back of it. 
On purpose you push your body into his hold eagerly, letting his palms slide over your waist and down to your hips, gliding over the curves in silent appreciation. With the stressful factor (the presentation) out of your way, there is undoubtedly neediness rising in your own system, your own realization of just how hot you would be with all the clothes off, and how enticingly would glint your husband's eyes once landed on your body again.
For a moment it gets hard to follow the plan and not give him a green light to have you right against the wall of his office.
However, you will yourself to keep your act.
Alhaitham groans in dissatisfaction when you break the kiss and draw your face back, putting the tips of your fingers against his lips, not allowing him to chase after yours.
"My love…" you make your voice extra breathy and borderline sad, looking at him with fake droopy eyes and lips drawn in a line. "I am so tired… You think I can use your couch to take a quick nap?"
It's so easy to see the shift in the man's expression. The attention he observes your features with. The hands that return to your waist, but sliding more to the small of your back to support your suddenly weakened body. The shaky sigh he releases and a gentle kiss he presses under your eye, where, conveniently, the evidence of your lack of proper regular sleep is quite apparent.
"Yes, my love, of course,"  watching him holding back once again, this time with your best interest in mind, is heartwarming and you lean close to peck the corner of his mouth.
"Thank you, habibi. I promise, we'll have our fun tonight. Can you wait for me?"
Closing his eyes and leading you to the couch he firmly nods. His self-restraint is admirable and there is just a tiny slither of guilt in your chest. But at the same time you know - some denying now will cause a greater experience later.
"Certainly. Give me a moment, I'll bring you more pillows."
"Spoiling me, huh?"
"Not yet, but I will," he holds your hand as you sit down on the plush couch Alhaitham demanded for his office's accommodation years ago. "You were great out there."
"Aw, thank you, dear," a bright smile lightens your 'tired' face, and your husband feels his heart skip a beat. If he had a genie to grant him one wish, he'd ask to see your smile every day till the rest of your lives. "Did you enjoy the way I shot all the Rajkumar's critiques down?"
"More than I probably should've," he quietly chuckles, kissing your temple and straightening to go and grab extra pillows. "I saw your scientific supervisor smirking smugly while you were at it.”
“Oh, yes, sounds like him,” you hum in acknowledgement, and the man hears some shuffling. It’s astonishing how quickly the whole mood has changed and, while you, without any doubt, appreciate it greatly, you can’t just not tease your beloved some more, right?
When he turns around with two pillows in arms though, his breath hitches - the view from before is once again in front of him. Mesmerized, he watches you carefully laying out your robe on the table, which leaves you in a white shirt only and those pretty stockings in sight.
“Love, mind grabbing a duvet for me too? I know you have one somewhere in here,” you don’t even look at him, sitting back down on the sofa, stretching those beautiful legs and letting the hem of the last proper piece of clothing left on you roll up your hips. Silently, Alhaitham walks to you, handing what he’s holding and getting a soft ‘thanks’. A minute later you are also provided with a thin blanket, and your husband receives a kiss on the inside of his wrist.
“You are the best,” burying the side of your face in a pillow, kicking your shoes off in the process of fitting onto the sofa, you let out a quiet yawn. “Wake me up in an hour alright? Bet they are going to be discussing for two.”
“Okay,” it’s hoarse and thick, falling from his dried lips, and you praise your boldness. A big palm slides under your ankles to shift your legs a bit comfortably under the piece of soft fabric, and you hide a smirk at his sneaky attempt to touch your clad in dark green legs. 
Suddenly sleepiness actually overtakes your body, growing heavy and mind foggy - you were going to spy on him, but now an actual nap doesn’t sound so bad.
The last thing you hear is the scraping sound of the chair being drugged closer to the desk.
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Alhaitham could barely concentrate on the papers in his hands. Your stunt - he really can’t come up with a better word for it - from before left his mind occupied way better than any volume before could. Sure, you’ve napped in the security of his office before, with a door locked and no visitor allowed in when you are over - but never were you this…enticing.
With an exasperated sigh, the Scribe lowers the documents and pushes them to the side, glancing at your soundlessly sleeping figure, hiding from him under that damned duvet, back turned to him and one of the pillows held close to your chest.
He sure as hell won’t do much in an environment like this - only if driving himself mad and aroused, which won’t do, at least not now.
Grabbing the back of his chair, the man carefully moves it, standing up and just as cautiously pushing it back. He could at least make some use of this hour - it’s been a while since breakfast, and he won’t be surprised if upon waking up you’d feel hungry.
Quickly writing a note and putting it on top of your robe just in case, Alhaitham picks his office keys from the desk and strides to the door, the carpet muffling his steps perfectly.
Four turns of the key later he is walking down the corridor and to the exit. The warm breeze caressing his cheek and running through the ashen locks the moment he steps outside is sobering. Lungs fill with air hungrily, making his broad chest rise and fall quite heavily, heart calming its wild pace. Archons, what his wife manages to do to him… In a process of punishing her husband no less.
The amused quirk of his lips is gone faster than anyone around him can register it, and the Scribe hastily descends down the many stone pathways. The bustling market he steps in is such a stark contrast to the quietness of the Akademiya, and it quickly overtakes his being, making the thoughts of you lose their grip on his mind. Maneuvering between the many people on each and every road, Alhaitham makes his way to the Lambad’s tavern, pace even and fast, his long legs being perfect for the task at hand.
However, halfway to his point of destination, an annoyingly familiar voice calls out for him, and only then the stoic man realizes - he forgot to turn on his earpieces. Truly, only you would make him forget even the most routine things he does.
At first he doesn’t even want to acknowledge Kaveh, pretending he didn’t hear him, but when a hand grabs his wrist, the Scribe is forced to stop.
“What?” The architect isn’t fazed by the irritation hidden behind those cerulean eyes.
“Where’s Y/n? Don’t tell me you actually left her on such an important day.”
“I did not,” it irks Alhitham how quickly his roommate jumps to conclusions, but, then again, you did “complain” to your friend about his idiotic attitude yesterday. “And if you are so concerned, why weren’t you present yourself?” “Because I had an important meeting with a client this morning and Y/n supports that,” he finally lets go of his wrist, putting a hand on his hip instead. “Besides, trust me, I was not going to sit there and watch you drooling all over your wife like a desperate idiot, I have enough of it at home.”
“My home.” “Your and your wife’s home, if we take law into consideration,” the blond huffs. “By the way, about that. You might think your face is all unreadable and stonelike, but I know your stupid ass long enough to recognize the look in your eyes and the thoughts behind them when your wife is simply mentioned. I can pretty much guess the events of this evening, so I’ll stay at Cyno’s tonight. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”
Oh, so your little plan was crafted by two people? He should’ve guessed that Kaveh contributed to it too. However, as much as it annoys your husband, he can’t completely brush off the usefulness of the architect at times. Especially when he intentionally and inadvertently makes your marriage so much better.
“Thank you,” the stunned look on Kaveh’s face is almost amusing, but he doesn't care to elaborate. Turning on his heels, Alhaitham walks away as if this short exchange never happened.
“What for?” He hears from behind and only quickens his pace to mix with the crowd sooner. “Hey, what for!? Alhaith-!”
This time the Scribe doesn't forget to turn his earpieces on.
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Teasing and riling up your husband proved to be an amusing and pleasurable experience - one you’d really like to repeat again. His mesmerizing eyes have not once strayed from your figure for the remainder of the day, gazing at you as you slept, as you two shared lunch, as you were named Dastur and congratulated by many, as you smiled brightly, happiness radiating from your very being. His hand was unwilling to let go of yours whenever you had to leave his side, and immediately intertwined fingers with yours once you were back with him. His lips shaped in beautiful words of quiet praise for you, pressing a kiss now and then to the back of your hand, to your temple, the corner of your lips when no one looked.
It was amazing and flattering how his body gravitated towards yours in different forms and by the time you stepped inside your shared home, your mind was set on not torturing him any longer.
And since your husband assured you of Kaveh’s absence…
Alhaitham is almost taken aback, when you grab his hand and drag him to the closest piece of furniture to push him onto - a daybed in the lounge area, not so far from the entrance. The moment his back touches the cushions and he bounces a little, you are already dragging your robe off. When he pushes up on his elbows, you are straddling his hips in an instant, palms firm on his chest and a sweet smile plastered on your lips.
“Oh, my love, you’ve been such a good boy for me today…” your voice is as sugary as the words you grace your husband with. Applying some pressure onto his pecs you force Alhaitham’s arms to give out, putting him on his back again, which he doesn’t complain about. Next you reach to take his earpieces off and immediately gasp, when the man effortlessly lifts his hips with you on top of him, to untie the waist porch with a player inside. With the device out of the way, you are no longer afraid to take action.
Alhaitham grits his teeth and throws his head back, as you forcefully push your clothed pussy against his concealed length, grinding. Fingers curl around the collar of his tight shirt and tug, baring the skin of his neck, which in a moment becomes the victim of your eager mouth. His big palms fly to your hips, burying under the white blouse of yours and cupping the tantalizing curves you’ve been hiding and teasing him with all day. Green lace is pleasant under the fingertips and he has half a mind of tugging it off, which is quickly cut off by your lips sucking a mark right under his jaw. Alhaitham quietly moans.
“Mmm, how I love these sounds of yours,” you murmur against his ear, gently biting onto the lobe, sending a slight shiver down his body. “Much more enjoyable when listening to you lecture me.”
Ah, right. This whole thing was supposed to be his punishment. Even though right now, with the way you drag your cunt against his crotch, it feels more like a reward. Good to know you’re acknowledging his efforts.
Although he can do so much more to earn your forgiveness. Plus, he did promise to spoil you.
You gasp when he uses the strength of his body to roll you two over, pinning you to the daybed and hovering above. The man takes a moment to drink in your disheveled state; legs, clad in pretty stockings, brush against his thighs in an attempt to close and hide the wet patch on the front of your panties. Then there is that blouse, which rode up to your waist, and he doesn’t waste time reaching to undo the buttons, gently swatting your hands away when you try to deny him weakly. Once open it reveals the beautiful almost see through bra, and your husband thickly swallows at the sight of your perky nipples straining against the sheer material.
“The lingerie stays on,” he almost doesn’t recognize his voice - hoarse and thick with arousal, and it seems to be doing things to you, given how you squirm from just a few words.
He sits back onto his heels, busying himself with undoing the clasps of his cape and letting you lift your upper body enough to tug the blouse off. His top is the next piece to end up on the floor and the scholar can’t help but chuckle at how quickly you start palming at the hard muscles of his chest. You mewl when he pinches your left nipple through the bra in retaliation.
For now he leaves his pants on, going back to what you were doing just mere minutes ago - pushing his clothed semi-hard dick to your pussy. He doesn’t care if there is going to be a stain on the dark fabric, all he cares about is your scorching lips finding his and drawing the man in a kiss full of unresolved need. It’s nice to know you’ve been craving him the same way he has been you and your little game affected your body too. He rubs himself between your legs, rocking his hips with vigor matching yours, while his hands cup your soft breasts, squeezing and rolling the erected nubs with his thumbs.
He catches every single moan with his mouth, not letting you go for longer than mere seconds to gasp for some air. The room grows hot, or maybe it’s just your heated bodies, glued to each other and even more so with your legs wrapping around his waist.
Archons he needs to taste more of you, not just the lips.
A surprised, borderline dissatisfied sound leaves your throat when he breaks the kiss, but is quickly transformed into a pleased sigh, as Alhaitham starts laying a path of gentle pecks down your neck and all the way to the valley between your constricted breasts. With an index finger he tugs that little center gore between the cups, enough to bare some of your tender flesh, humming in approval after you reach to roll the straps down your shoulders, letting the nipples pop out of their lacy confines too.
Right as the left nub disappears in his hot mouth and is pressed on by that skilled tongue, your hands fly to the back of his head, fingers burying in the soft ashen locks. Back arches and pussy throbs - fuck he can feel it with his cock through those little barriers you still have on. Your husband sucks and is not disappointed with the breathy moan you release and another throb of your core, which he sure is making that spot on your new panties bigger. Maybe he should help you a little.
“Shit, aaah, fuck- Haitham!” He can feel your nails slightly dig into his scalp and body jolt when his hand disappears under the waistband of your sexy underwear, the pads of his middle and index fingers immediately sliding between your pussy lips.
“Who would've thought that one of the esteemed Haravatat Dasturs got herself so worked up, that the mere touch from her husband can force such a language out of her,” the Scribe can't help, but snicker, lazily toying with the same nipple by the tip of his tongue, before carefully taking it between the teeth and slightly tugging.
It feels like the spark of electricity shoots through your body. Especially as he taps your clit at the same time.
“You are- oooh~ very mean right now,” Alhaitham doesn’t need to lift his head to see your pout, but he does so nevertheless, leaning up to give you a reassuring kiss.
“Just trying to match my wife,” he murmurs against your lips before returning to your chest to take care of the neglected nipple, two fingers entering your fluttering hole. Your mouth hangs open in a myriad of moans as he sucks and kisses the areola, all the while working his quickly soaking digits in and out of your heat. Your typically patient and lazily teasing in bed husband is making quite a quick work on preparing your body, which has you smiling proudly at achieving your goal today. Sure, moving up the scientific ladder was a satisfying thing, but having your lover so eagerly caressing you is an amazing treat.
Alhaitham hums when your hips start rocking, trying to match the thrusting of his fingers. It’s not unwelcome, but tonight he feels like doing all the work. So, he finally leaves your wet and swollen nubs at peace and, traveling another path of kisses down your stomach, pushes your body further up the daybed to come face to face with your pussy. He smiles as your fingers comb through his messy fringe, putting it up and away from his face, and he loves how your breath hitches when he looks up at you with those magnetic eyes of his, right from between your spread legs.
Not breaking eye contact, he hooks the fingers of his free hand onto the front of your panties and tug them aside. He feels how you clench around the two fingers and when he draws them back next time to re-enter more comfortably, pushes the third in as well. You are the one to look away, throwing your head back and whining his name, and he, after sucking a blooming mark right above the hem of your stocking, dives in.
Having Alhaitham put his mouth onto your cunt is a rare treat, given how much he loves teasing you and how he’d rather prefer kissing your lips, swallowing your muffled pretty sounds. And because he knows how damn loud you get when he eats you out.
Just like now, moaning and whining and barely forming any sentences while his tongue and lips are toying with the sensitive clit, fingers curling to press against your g-spot. It’s no surprise that not a minute later your thighs clamp around his head and with a sensual arch of your back and a scream of your beloved’s name you cum.
The man doesn’t care that he is being suffocated, he keeps working his fingers and mouth to help you through this mind-blowing orgasm, and only when you start kicking your feet from overstimulation, does he stop fingering you and wraps both his big hands around your thighs, forcing them open. He loves the whining sounds you make and how you try to push his head away as he licks your swollen labia with the languid strokes of his tongue, flicking the tip every time it reaches the clit.
Finally he decides to have his mercy on you, placing a soft kiss to the hipbone and pushing himself up. As he wipes his lips and chin with the back of his hand, he can’t help but appreciate the disheveled state he put you into. Locks of hair streaming wildly on the mattress, the hooded look in your eyes and the mouth slightly ajar are drawing a beautiful picture. Accompanied by your bra being pushed down and panties aside, you remind him of the ancient sculptures, depicting the true beauty of the lover’s body.
Without a second thought he leans down to kiss you. Your shaking arms are a welcomed wrap around his shoulders and he slides his open palms under your back to embrace you tighter. 
“So,” he begins after a few seconds of slow kissing, putting his forehead against yours, “would you like to continue here, my dear impatient wife, or would you like me to bring you to the bedroom?”
You think for a moment, playing with the damp hairs at the back of his neck - more to collect the shattered pieces of your mind than to anything else.
“Mmm… In all honesty, I don’t feel like moving to the cold sheets of our bed,” you eventually say after a couple of beats of silence. “And here it’s so warm already and comfortable… I want you here. Please.”
Well, if you ask so nicely.
“I am not dealing with Kaveh if he comes screaming at us for leaving stains here,” Alhaitham unwraps the lock of your hands and straightens his posture, before stepping down from the daybed to remove his pants and underwear.
“You’ll just have to be careful and cum inside,” you give your body a stretch in preparation of what is to come, letting out a pleased sound.
“Oh, I am not worried about myself, habibti,” naked at last, your husband joins you once again and, tugging the panties aside more properly, presses the tip of his fully hard cock to your entrance. “I’m more concerned about you dripping all over here.
“You-!” He effortlessly catches your hand and presses it beside your head, leaning forward and pushing the head inside. Oh, how quickly the annoyed look on your face changes to the surprised and then keening one. With every inch of his dick sliding inside, your chest rises and falls more feverishly, and more delicious sounds are drawn from your throat. A pretty unmarked throat.
Now, Alhaitham isn’t necessarily a possessive partner, but even he can’t deny the appeal of having his wife’s neck be littered with his marks. So when the last inch of him is finally settled inside you, he gives you a moment to adjust, instead focusing on sucking and nibbling onto the skin of your shoulder, slowly moving higher up the side of the neck, only to repeat all of this but in reverse for the other side. He can feel your arm wrap around him again, nails slightly digging into the muscles of his back, because you know very well, what a brutal pace your lover is capable of setting. Your breath hitches when your beloved grabs your hip, letting your other hand go, which immediately goes to his back too, and bracing himself on his now free one.
A couple of shallow thrusts are to test the waters, and when he gets a positive response of your gummy walls clenching around him but with no painful resistance, Alhaitham draws his hips back till only the tip stays inside and slams forward properly. 
A whole month without sex shows in the fast pace he quickly sets, the deep strokes that stimulate all your sensitive places, the wet slapping of skin against skin with every thrust he delivers to your pussy. It’s also in the desperate need to be impossibly close to you, chest to chest and lips to lips, tongues meeting and moans shared. The way your legs wrap around his waist once again, attempting to pull him even closer, drives the man insane, because he feels the nylon of your stockings, he is reminded how gorgeous you are at the moment, and the memory of your teasing snaps the very thread of the sanity he’s been trying so hard to maintain throughout the whole day.
You curse as he uses the hand still holding onto your hip to move your pelvis in tandem with his, pushing you down onto the daybed when he pushes out and slamming you up as he thrusts in. The squelching sound is so dirty and there is a thought at the back of your mind that you sure are to ruin the piece of the furniture, but it is quickly forgotten when your husband groans into your neck, mouthing at your jaw.
“You’ve done such a great work,” he whispers, kissing over one of the marks, “I’m so glad I came to watch you. My most amazing, smartest, patient and forgiving wife. I love you so. Damn. Much.”
Each thrust accentuating his words cuts off your attempt to tell him he doesn’t need to apologize anymore, that he’s justified enough already with his prior actions, but it seems that Alhaitham wasn’t taking it lightly than he promised to make it up to you.
You scrunch your eyes together, tilting your head back as he keeps his eyes glued to you. Cock drilling in and out of you the man licks his lips, cursing under his breath at the particularly hard squeeze of your cunt. His expression is surely the same as yours - eyebrows pinched in pleasure, jaw slack, breath labored as he is driving you both to your peaks.
“Feels good?” He asks after another deep thrust that jolts your body a little. Clit is throbbing with the need of being touched and you mewl to your husband, begging just for it. He chuckles deeply and lets go of your hip, leaning back and grabbing your legs under the knees instead. In a second you find yourself folded in half with your handsome husband jackhammering into you. As asked, he also reaches for your clit, ribbing tight circles with his thumb, eliciting the loudest moans he hasn’t fucked out of you in a while.
“Better, beautiful?”
”Yes-!”
He groans, watching your body jerk and shake at his ministrations. He can’t take it anymore, his cock throbs at just a mere sight, not to mention the telltale rhythmic clenching of your walls, warning him of your rapidly nearing orgasm.
A wail you let out as you cum sends a wild shudder down your husband’s back, pushing him over the edge just seconds after you with a moan of your name. White shoots inside, painting your walls, filling you up with warmth, greedily milked. 
It takes everything in Alhaitham not to collapse on top of you, but he catches himself right on time, one hand planted onto the mattress next to your shoulder, the other abandoning your swollen clit and sliding up your thigh to the back of the knee, gently rubbing. With deep shaking breaths he caresses the skin hidden under the nylon and then carefully puts your leg down, uncurling your body, to which you groan in relief - he makes a mental note to rub your thighs when he’ll be taking you to the bath.
For now he focuses on showering your cheeks and nose with fleeting kisses to make you squint, to hear you giggle. Your arms embrace his frame for Archon knows what time this night, and you lean up to leave multiple tender pecks on his face too and, as he quickly realizes, to try and catch his lips with yours.
Before he indulges you in your desire, Alhaitham swiftly puts his hand under your back to find the clasp of your bra, worried that the tender flesh of your chest has been squished uncomfortably by the bunched material. The relieved sigh you let out when the hooks are undone is chased after and successfully captured by your husband’s mouth.
With the bra thrown to the side, the man slowly slides his softened length out and immediately tugs your panties back in place, to prevent his cum from leaking out and onto the expensive looking cover of the daybed’s mattress. You whine at the loss, but he kisses you again, murmuring a promise of the second round, should you desire one after you finally move from the lounge area. Which you eventually do in a couple of minutes - not without the help of your beloved, your legs feel like that wobbly Padisarah pudding after all. 
As much as you didn’t want to continue your evening escapades in the bed previously, the cool sheets are a nice contrast to your heated skin now, after Alhaitham put you down to prepare the bath. With a quiet groan you roll onto your back and lift one leg, pulling the knee to your chest to remove the stocking.
Just as you throw the sheer piece to the floor and lift the other leg, your still naked husband emerges from the bathroom.
“What do you think you are doing?” You note the strange undertones in his voice even before you turn your head to look at him and notice a small scowl on his face.
“Undressing? Weren’t we going to take a bath?” Confusion paints your features, thumbs already hooked under the hem of the second stocking. The man just sighs, shaking his head and walking to where you are lying.
“With all that teasing I’ve endured today, I assumed that unwrapping your body is the least compensation I could’ve had.”
“Oh, is that so?” A smile tugs at the corner of your lips and you straighten your leg, extending it towards him and touching the chiseled abs with your toes. “I suppose you are right. You’ve done a very good job today, being an amazing supporting husband that you are.”
Alhaitham catches your foot, holding it up and placing a lingering kiss to your calf, sending blood to your cheeks. Then he slides his open palm along the length of your leg, caressing it in appreciation, inching towards the slightly darker hem. Hooking his index finger he puts on a show of slowly tugging the nylon off, making the action so vulgar and hot with the bottom lip caught between his teeth and lids half-closed, that you feel the blood running south this time.
It’s almost sobering how earnest his next words are.
“You’ve brought it to my consideration that I tend to switch off my mind when I’m around you, spewing nonsense as a result. So, from now on I promise to pay closer attention to what I say to you.”
“Habibi,” you rise onto your bent elbows, foot still firmly held in his hands, “as much as I appreciate the notion, I want you to know I am not mad. And you’ve shown today that I do matter to you more than the discomfort of staying for long around other people and your distaste for big Akademiya gatherings”.
“Oh, believe me, I know you are not mad. If you were, you would’ve put all the books lying around the house into the bookcases and put the locks on them and then made me sleep on that very daybed yesterday,” a small smile graces his face and he gives you a knowing look, right before finally tugging the stocking completely off and lowering your leg. “But I still mean what I said. I know I am not a perfect man, but for my wife I am willing to work on my shortcomings.”
“I know you do, love, it was in your wedding vows after all,” you mirror his smile, pushing yourself up, not without a small wince at the feeling of his cum leaking out and wetting already ruined panties. “And trust me, I knew what I was signing for when I decided to get serious with you.”
“Hopefully you are not disappointed,” is a quiet murmur, as he gently holds your waist and helps onto your feet.
“Of course not. It would’ve been so boring if you were always agreeing with me,” he gives you a look, but you only laugh, raising your hand to cup his cheek. “Thank you for sharing this moment with me today, Alhaitham. It truly means a lot to me.”
“Yes,” he closes his eyes, leaning into your touch with serenity etched into his features, “I am glad I was there too.”
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taglist: @meimeimeirin, @rjasmin2021, @callinz, @monamourbladie-mb
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undiscovered-horizon · 10 months
Text
"Everywhere is good but home is..." - Mihawk x Reader
@thetempleofthemasaigoddess wondered why Mihawk doesn't quite get along with his mother-in-law and who am I to keep such secrets to myself?
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SUMMARY: Mihawk is not exactly fond of his in-laws. Nevertheless, he compliantly tags along whenever you pay your parents a visit. If it makes you happy, he's willing to bite his tongue. For a day, at least.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.6k
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Imagine, if you will, an angry boar. A large, stout boar with birse as dark as the night sky. As boars do, it will gore with its tusks to let out the frustration and get rid of whatever it was that made the animal seethe. Now, if you take away its tusks, what can it do? Angrily dig for truffles? 
Or maybe stand beside you, a scowl on his face and a begrudging “I am fine” every time you ask about the bitter expression?
Mihawk doesn’t like visiting your parents. It’s the sickeningly sweet familial atmosphere that suffocates him. Don’t misunderstand - he’s fond of the thought of having a family with you but the aura of your childhood home is a little too… overwhelming for him. A little too picture-perfect. But being the man he is, Mihawk has never outright talked about his dislike because he’s aware of how much that would hurt you. Still, you know your husband a little too well to disregard his sighs and frowns. This piece of secret knowledge always makes you love him more - he’s willing to suffer for a day or two just to make you happy. If it’s not love, what else could it be?
The farmhouse looks different than it did last year when you visited: the roof tiles have been changed, the outside of the building has been repainted and even some of the fence surrounding the land is new. Clearly, your parents have been busy with their retirement.
Despite the irate expression on his face, Mihawk silently overtakes you and opens the shabby wicket gate to let you enter first. He gives you a questioning look when you suddenly stop.
“It’s going to be fine, Mihawk,” you reassure him.
“So you’ve been saying, darling.”
Comforting warmth spreads inside his chest as you smile at him and kiss his cheek. He turns his head, hoping to catch your lips but you’re already on your way to the older man raking leaves in the distance. Mihawk clenches his jaw and lets out an exasperated sigh. With a loud bang, he closes the gate behind him. He follows you in slow steps, naively putting off the fateful moment of meeting your family.
Walking down the path leading to the farmhouse and the fields behind it, Mihawk looks around the desolate landscape. It’s quaint, he thinks to himself. Tall trees sway on the chilly, autumn wind. Right above their peaks, although far away, are mountains with their tops covered in snow. Uncut grass brushes against his clothes. A flock of cranes flies high in the sky, disappearing and reappearing as they fly through grey clouds. Their key is directed south, towards warmth that will shield them from winter snow. The area is a bit too colourful and bright for his liking but with a nice “please” from you, Mihawk could see himself settling down in a place like this.
Dracule just comes into earshot and has the displeasure of hearing your father yelling:
“Pumpkin!” The older man’s voice is filled with excitement. He lets go of the rake, letting it fall on the ground. Despite his age and clear exhaustion from the work, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you almost to death. “Honey, come out!” he shouts towards the farmhouse. “It’s Pumpkin!”
Mihawk almost can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. You’re a grown woman, married at that, and they still call you by a nickname they had come up with while you were still in diapers. ‘When I asked where children came from, they told me that they found me between pumpkins in their field,’ you once explained to him.
The door to the building flies open. Soon enough, your mother is running to you. Her greying hair is braided into a plait. She’s wearing an apron with traditional patterns hand-stitched into it. Half of the motif had been done by a skilled hand, stitched with precision and perfection. The other part, however, is a lot more crooked and amateurish, probably done by a child’s hand. Your hand.
Tears glisten in your mother's eyes. Despite her older age, there’s vigour and youth inside those irises - a certain love for life that you’ve taken after her. She quickly wipes her hands on the apron and hugs you.
“Oh, Pumpkin!” A stray tear leaves her eye. “I haven’t seen you in ages! You could have said you’re visiting.”
“You’ve always loved surprises, mum.”
She lets go of you and redirects her attention to Mihawk. Her face lights up as though he’s her own son, beaming with love and pride. To his absolute horror, your mother puts her hands on the sides of his face. He almost pulls away to avoid the unwanted affections.
“Sweetie, you look handsome as ever!” she exclaims. Her expression falls as she looks him up and down. “But you’re a bit thin, aren’t you? And that open shirt, tsk. Winter is coming, sweetheart, you’ll catch pneumonia if you don’t cover up.”
“Delighted to see you again, ma’am,” Mihawk lies through his teeth. To some degree, you’re impressed with how honest he sounds.
"Oh, sweetheart, I told you to just call me mum!” She laughs. “We're family now."
You can see the relief in Mihawk’s eyes as your mother lets go of him. Some part of you wants to burst with laughter as you recall countless moments when you’re the one cradling his face and Dracule is more than overjoyed with the tender touch. It feels like there’s something beyond special about you, that he welcomes such intimate things. Although, truth be told, when it’s your hands on his face, you usually lean in to kiss him and that’s definitely not something he wants to think about while standing in front of your mother.
“He’s a grown man, honey.” Your father nags at his wife. He waves his hand in a dismissing manner. “Leave him be.” Mihawk’s terror returns when a heavy hand reaches for his shoulder. “Come, son, you’ll chop some wood for the night. I’m too old for this. The last time I tried chopping firewood, I got sciatica.”
“Pleased to help,” Dracule drones his words. He gives you a glance like a silent plead ‘Look what I do for you’. Then, he follows your father further into the garden.
You feel your mother put her arm around your shoulder. “Boys are off to have fun and we have a dinner to make.”
Something inside you stirs with excitement - cooking and baking used to be your bonding activities with your mum. Since you’ve married Mihawk, you’re not allowed to do any housework. Everything is taken care of by servants. You find that you’ve grown to miss the rhythm of mundane life, although it would be a lie if you said that you dislike the life you have with Mihawk. It’s just… different.
The sound of pots, pans and knives hitting the cutting boards is like a symphony to your ears. An aria to your childhood. If you closed your eyes, you could almost see the world as it used to be, your eyes right below the level of the countertops, always standing on a stool to help your mother.
But the thoughts of your younger years dissipate as you stare out of the kitchen window. You have the perfect view of your husband chopping firewood with your father raking leaves in the back. Mihawk’s skin glistens in the afternoon, autumn sun. There’s not a bead of sweat on his torso. He appears completely relaxed as he swings the axe with one hand. Some logs are already cracked or particularly dry and those he rips apart with his bare hands. Those same hands that tear pieces of wood into matches have caressed your skin with almost fearful softness; the arms that bring destruction have tirelessly shielded you from the dangers of the world. 
Your dad looks over his shoulder at the pile of firewood with a nod of awe. If Mihawk keeps up his tempo, he’ll prepare enough fuel for the next week.
“You remind me of your dad and me when we were younger.” Your mother’s face shakes you awake from your thoughts. Suddenly remembering that you were supposed to be helping her, you look down at the awfully chopped carrots. At least you didn’t cut off your finger. “Always stealing glances as though we weren’t already married.”
A sigh of yearning leaves your lips. What did you do in your past life to deserve a man like him?
“Dad still looks at you in an uncomfortably intense way,” you answer, a smile on your lips.
Your mother’s laughter brightens up the small, crowded kitchen. It’s not hard to correctly guess what your dad saw in her that made him want to spend his life with that woman. “He does the same when you’re not looking,” she says while vaguely pointing at Mihawk.
Her words make you blush. A deep shade of red covers your cheeks, making your whole face hot to the touch. “What do you mean?”
She looks at you with sympathy. “I saw it the day you introduced him to us. And each time you come over, he seems to be a little worse in his affliction, staring at you like you’re the one who hung stars in the sky. It made your grandma remind her of grandad so much, that she cried at your wedding.”
Listening to her, your longing gaze returns to Mihawk who appears oblivious to your undivided interest in him. “Mum, does it ever get boring?” you ask without looking away. “The sense of calm when you’re around him. Like everything could be ruined but it’s fine because he’s there.”
“It’s the only thing in the world that never gets tiring.” A flustered, juvenile smile decorates her face. Even with wrinkles and greying hair, she looks barely older than you at the moment, reliving the flame of love inside her that has never dwindled. “Now, let’s finish with the sentiments and stuff the duck, eh?”
Mihawk is reaching for another log when something makes him momentarily freeze. There, in front of the stump he’s been chopping wood on, sits a dog. It’s clearly a mutt, each feature taken from a different breed. The fur is an amalgamation of markings in different colours: orange, grey, white and black. As the dog notices Mihawk’s interest, it gets up, restlessly stomping in place or rather hopping as the pet is missing one of its hind legs.
“Gulliver,” Dracule recalls the name of the mutt you’ve told him so much about. Your first and only friend growing up in the countryside.
The name is taken as an invite and so the dog places a drool-covered, chewed-out ball next to the piece of firewood. The pet sits again, tail wagging as fast as it can.
For a moment, Mihawk is torn. He wants the dog to leave him be but that would mean he has to put his hand on the slimy toy. Then again, the pet is sure to continue disturbing him now that he has acknowledged its existence.
Cringing at the wet and warm sensation of the ball, Dracule picks it up, only furthering Gulliver’s excitement.
"This means nothing," he drones his words and throws the toy so far it almost disappears from sight. The dog, overjoyed, runs after the ball. 
Considering that your dad’s throw has gotten weaker with age, Mihawk might have dug his own grave with the distance he made the ball fly. Gulliver will probably want another run. Or ten.
For a moment, Mihawk goes back to the fantasy of settling down with you in a mountainous wonderland. Maybe you could have a dog too? Not a mutt but a hunting hound? They look very noble.
But he shakes those thoughts away and continues chopping wood.
The dinner went well. Homemade food, family you haven’t seen in a year, the cosy and sentimental atmosphere of your childhood home… And Mihawk didn’t look as miserable as he probably felt. Although you’re enjoying this little family reunion, you seize the opportunity for solitude when it arises:
Your parents go to the kitchen to put away the dirty dishes, plate the dessert and brew some tea. Tugging on Mihawk’s arm, you pull him outside the house.
The old flooring of the porch creaks under your weight. A bright, melodic tune is carried by the wind as it brushes against the chimes hanging under the roof. The sun has recently set and the sky is still in a lovely, indigo shade. Birds croak in the distance, announcing nightfall.
His warm hand rests on your lower back. The touch makes you momentarily take a deep, relaxing breath. Your thoughts become both orderly and fuzzy as though Mihawk’s presence turned all of your wandering, useless ideas into static you can easily ignore. How can a person have so much control over you? 
Mihawk is towering over you. He tilts his head downwards to look at you. Something about his looming aura makes you feel not only protected but also well-cared-for, as though you could give yourself up to him completely and you’d still live like a queen in a castle.
“If you keep frowning, your face will stay like that,” you say to him.
Mihawk’s expression relaxes at the mere mention of his visibly bitter mood. Or maybe it softens because he’s looking at you. “I was under the impression that you’re rather fond of my face.”
“And you’d be correct. But I do have to say that seeing you tear wood apart was much better.”
You lean closer to him as you put your arms around his neck. He welcomes the gesture, allowing his hands to travel an inch or two downwards, a little too low for when one is in the vicinity of others. Especially someone’s parents.
“So my wife likes to see me do manual labour,” he states, his warm breath brushing against your cold cheeks. There’s no surprise in his voice and there shouldn’t be. He’s noticed the way you look at him when he wields a sword and Mihawk would be an awful liar if he said he doesn’t enjoy those glances.
“I like seeing you, full stop. Chopping wood is just a nice variation to the scenario. Strong arms and all that.”
The said arms pull you by your hips into a kiss. Although he’s spent only a day in this part of the region, he already smells like fresh mountain air and pine needles. Mihawk groans, feeling the curves of your body against his. He will never get enough of this. Enough of you.
“Tea is served!”
Your mother’s exclamation makes you pull away from Mihawk. He instinctively chases after your lips before letting out an annoyed sigh. A chuckle rumbles in your chest. Dracule rolls his eyes but lets you thread your fingers with his and pull him back inside the farmhouse. There, you interrupt an interesting conversation:
“Darling, when’s the cake tasting again?” your father asks while flipping through the calendar, a pencil in his hand.
“On the 25th, honey,” she answers. The dining room is immediately filled with the aroma of bergamot as your mother pours the tea. “At 6 in the afternoon.”
“Cake tasting?” you repeat in confusion. “What’s going on?”
“Our golden wedding, of course!” the older woman beams with joy. “We’ve yet to send out the invitations, though, so don’t tell anyone. Especially your aunt. Gods know she runs her mouth like it’s a marathon.”
As though you’re thinking the same thing, Mihawk and you glance at each other. The miserable, irate expression in his eyes elicits a burst of bright laughter from you. He just can’t catch a break, can he?
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lightsoutnaway · 4 months
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Hellloooo can I request Carlos x Reader meeting his dad/family for the first time??
Thank youuu!!!
Meet the Family
PAIRING: Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader
WARNINGS: None
SUMMARY: You meet Carlos' family at the Spanish Gran Prix.
WORD COUNT: 1,114
A/N: Thank you so much for this request! Sorry it took so long for me to get to. I've just gotten through a big series of projects at work though, and I have a lot of free time opening up! I appreciate your patience.
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You were hanging your clothes in the closet of the hotel that you were staying at. You really wished they would build a track in Madrid so you could have one race where you and Carlos got to sleep at home. You picked up your last dress, sliding it onto a hanger and placing it in the hotel closet. 
“What do you want to do for dinner?” You asked Carlos as you started putting your shoes away. 
“My dad has a dinner reservation for all of us tonight,” Carlos told you. You froze. 
“Your dad?” You asked.
“Yes,” Carlos answered. “My mom and sister too.” 
“You didn’t tell me they would be here!” You exclaimed. Carlos looked over at you. He hadn’t realized your panic until then. 
“It’s the Spanish Gran Prix. I assumed you would know,” Carlos replied. 
“I assumed you would give me a warning before I met your family,” you told him. You ran a hand through your hair. Carlos tried to hold in a smile at your anxiety. “I don’t have gifts for any of them, Carlos.” 
“You don’t need gifts for them,” Carlos said. 
“My clothes aren’t nice enough either,” you continued. “I didn’t bring anything that’s right for dinner with your parents.” 
“You look perfect right now,” Carlos replied. You weren’t really listening. You stopped and looked at him. 
“Carlos, what if they hate me?” You asked. Carlos frowned. 
“They will not hate you,” Carlos assured you. 
“How do you know?” You pressed. 
“Because I love you. And they’re my family,” he answered. You took a deep breath. 
“Are you sure they won’t hate me?” You asked. Carlos chuckled. 
“They’ll love you, mi amor. My mother has been asking about you for months,” he told you. “She tells me how much happier I seem every time we talk. She knows it’s because of you.” Your cheeks warmed and your heart skipped a beat. 
“What about your dad?” You asked. You knew how much Carlos loved and respected his father. The approval of Carlos Sainz Sr. was something that you found yourself wanting the same way his son did. 
“He’ll love you too, amor,” Carlos assured you. “They all will. You’re going to fit right in.” You took a deep breath and nodded hesitantly.
“Do you really think that they’ll like me? You’re not just saying it?” You asked. Carlos reached up and pushed a hair out of your eyes. 
“Yes, mi amor. I have no worries. They will love you almost as much as I do,” he assured you. “We’re meeting them in an hour.” Your heart leapt in your chest. Meeting your boyfriend’s parents with one hour notice wouldn’t have been your first plan, but it didn’t give you much time to worry. When you arrived at the restaurant Carlos Sr., Reyes, and Blanca were all there already. You weren’t late, but the idea that you had kept them waiting already had you expecting that they hated you. Instead when you walked up Reyes wrapped you in a hug, quickly followed by her husband and daughter. 
“Y/N! It is so good to meet you,” Reyes greeted. Reyes hugged her son as Blanca kissed your cheeks. “Ella es muy bonita, Carlito,” Reyes praised her son. 
“My son never stops talking about you,” Carlos Sr. said as you sat down. “He tells us all about your job.” You looked at Carlos, a bashful expression spreading over your face. 
“Yes, I love my job. It’s not quite as exciting as being a racecar driver, but I like it,” you said. 
“I’ve asked him some questions, but I’m not sure he listens to you as well as he should…” Carlos Sr. proceeded to ask you about your career, clearly impressed by the fact that you were so advanced in your field. Blanca quickly took to you, her sense of humor matching yours–similar to her brother. Reyes didn’t say much but as she watched her son fawn over you, she didn’t find the need to ask you anything. 
“Do you want the last bite?” Carlos held out a forkful of chocolate cake to you. You smiled and let him feed it to you. 
“Thank you, my love,” you gushed before kissing his cheek. As sick as the sight made her, Blanca couldn’t help but be happy for her brother. Reyes and Carlos Sr. had knowing smiles on their faces as they watched their son. You were the one. They knew it just as well as their son did. Carlos Sr. paid for the meal before Carlos pulled your chair out for you, offering his arm to you as you exited the restaurant. Reyes and Blanca were chatting with you about where you would meet in the paddock tomorrow as Carlos went up to the valet stand with his father. The two of them handed their tickets to the valet before he walked off to get their cars. Carlos was watching you laugh with his mom and sister, his father observing the way his son stared at you so fondly. 
“Don’t mess it up with this one,” Carlos Sr. warned his son. “You’re never going to do better.” Carlos looked over at his dad and chuckled. 
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Carlos assured his father. Carlos opened your car door for you before all of you headed out. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” You called to Carlos’ family through the open car window. Carlos smiled to himself before reaching over and innocently resting his hand on your leg as he drove back to the hotel. 
“I told you that they would love you,” Carlos teased you. 
“You were nervous when you met my parents,” you reminded him with a huff. 
“Your dad is scary,” Carlos said. 
“I told you that he would like you though,” you replied. 
“And you were right. And I was right that my family would like you,” Carlos said. “We are just one big happy family.” You giggled. 
“We’re family?” You asked softly. 
“Yes,” Carlos said firmly. “Soon enough it will be legal too.” You looked at Carlos with wide eyes. 
“What?” Your voice was small and hopeful. Carlos smirked. 
“I thought I could adopt you,” he said. “Charles and Oscar made it seem fun.” You laughed at him. Carlos pulled up to the hotel. 
“I don’t need to be adopted though. I’ve got parents,” you teased as Carlos helped you from his car. He smiled as he wound his fingers between yours. His fingertip rubbed against the empty spot on your left ring finger that would be occupied soon enough. 
“That’s okay,” Carlos assured you. “I can think of another way to make you my family."
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ilyhaitanii · 5 months
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keep it down, and quick 𖤛 alhaitham
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synopsis: alhaitham can feel someone staring at him from across the library. when further investigating the matter, he ends up having a quick… session with someone special in an aisle that brings back memories.
warnings: nsfw. public sex, lots of teasing, fingering, oral (f!receiving), finger sucking, cum play (?)
a/n: alhaitham brainrot is so bad right now i had to write this. sorry if it’s bad i was thinking with my clit (when do i not though?)
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ALHAITHAM:
alhaitham has never been one to look too deep into conversations. he doesn’t like beating around the bush. if there’s something you need to tell him, just say it. no point in sugarcoating words.
he’s not cruel, of course. he understands it’s human nature to not understand your own feelings. however, he believes that logic does not apply to this situation.
you are very in-tune with your emotions right now. he knows that look on your face all too well. the slight flush, parted lips, and dilated eyes that stare at him from across the library. he knows you’re staring, hell he can feel it. every now and then he likes teasing you by looking right at you. he watched the way you jump and turn back around the corner, praying he doesn’t see you. (he can see you very clearly.)
when you turn back around to stare at him, he doesn’t even move. he looks right at you, an eyebrow raised. you flinch, fully running away from him. alhaitham does not like people who beat around the bush, but you however? he can entertain it for a bit. besides, there’s not much he has to do right now. work as the acting grand sage is slow as of now. why not entertain his very cute wife who hides behind bookshelves and stares at him like a schoolgirl.
he rises from his seat gingerly, taking his sweet time to walk towards you. within a matter of a few seconds, alhaitham finds you. he loops his fingers around your wrist, tugging you towards him. with his brow still raised, he looks down at you. you press your arm onto his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his black shirt.
“is there a reason you wear such tight shirts, or is it just to bother me?” you ask him with a breathy voice. he smiles down at you as your fingers trace the gem on his chest. he leans down, lips brushing against the cartilage of your ear,
“a mix of both. now out with it— why are you running away from me?” he leaves the softest kiss on your ear, making you twitch in his hold. you almost drop the book you’re reading, but alhaitham has already accounted for that. he puts the book back on the shelf, cramming you into a corner.
his tall, muscular stature looms over you. you feel quite small under him and his intense gaze. you fidget with your fingers, picking at the sides of your nails. he takes a hold of your hands, separating them. he places one on his cheek, pressing his lips into your wrist.
“what is it? i don’t have all day,” he mumbles, eyes flutter shut. he’s annoyingly pretty like this. all up and close in your face with his eyebrows slightly downcast. that serious look on his face always gets you going. as you press your thighs togther, alhaitham shoves one of his between yours. “speak now or i’m leaving.”
he would leave you hanging like this— would he?! he would. he almost does until you pull him back by the shirt. he turns, leaning down as you pull him into a kiss. with your hand bunching his shirt in your fist, alhaitham’s hands crowd your waist and hips, pulling them closer to his body.
the kiss is incredibly hot. his tongue swirls together with yours, saliva mixing together. you feel yourself borderline drooling over his body touching yours. four years of marriage and you still aren’t used to how attractive your husband really is. when he pulls back a string of saliva follows after his tongue.
“you could’ve told me this in the morning. i would have changed my schedule for you. you know that,” his thumb rubs your cheekbone, watching the way you melt into his palm.
“i know, i just missed you a lot.” he looks around behind him. nobody is really here. lots of people are on a lunch break. however a small part of alhaitham wants to keep teasing you. he remembers all those days on the playground where you’d tease him as children.
you were always taller, had longer legs. you were always able to reach the higher leveled books he wanted to read when you both were younger. in this very section of the library you had grabbed a book he was mere seconds away from grabbing. when he politely asked you for it back, you raised it way above your head and told him to get it himself.
you always teased him for walking so slow in the hallway compared to you and your longer legs. you always teased him for being so small when you were children, terribly unaware that when you both would graduate secondary school that when you came back from your summer break in mondstadt that alhaitham would be much taller than you.
it was now you who shorter than him. he always reached to the middle of your chin, ghosting the bottom of your lip. but now, you were merely up to his chest. nearly a whole ruler shorter than him. then he’d grown muscle. the young prodigy you’d teased in primary school, who you’d poke and prod at finally grew up.
a part of you also felt jealous whenever he’d garner the attention of other girls your age. nobody played with him when you both were children aside from you. but now everyone wanted to act as though they knew him. he’d always been alhaitham— your alhaitham. he hadn’t changed, so why should your feelings? (your deep love for him you’d mistaken as pure “admiration”)
alhaitham gained your attention, looking down at your eyes. he drops a kiss on your nose, guiding a few down your cheeks.
“i love you,” he says softly, encasing your lips into a much softer kiss. you cling onto him, arms looped around his broad shoulders. when he pulls back there’s a soft smile of his face, “i still need to hear you say it.”
you pout, your hands flailing at your side. you hide your face into his neck, hugging his waist. as your fingers trace the trained muscles on his back, you mumble
“you already know what i want. why can’t you just do it?” he kneels below you, pulling your skirt up as his lips pepper kisses up the exposed skin. he takes his time, mouthing at your skin, making you needier by the second.
“im not a ‘know-it-all,’ as you like to put it. i can’t read your mind, darling.” he says in that sickly-sultry voice of his. that part of him makes your brain razzled and body tremble. every kiss makes your heart beat ten times faster. the higher up your thighs he gets, the more you tremble. the more soaked your panties become you realize when he presses kisses against your soaked slit.
your hands dart to your sweetheart’s hair, tangling your fingers into his sliver strands. your cant help but buck against his mouth when he leaves a hard kiss against your clothes clit. a soft moan of his name has him shushing you gently. he pulls you into a kiss when he stands at his full height.
“noisy girl. always have something to say to me, hm?” his lips take your agais as his fingers rub all over your wet slit. he watches the way you whine and mewl into his mouth, begging for more. a helpless plea leaves your mouth when his fingers brush over your clit. “let me hear it, love.”
“please?” is all you can muster up. alhaitham tsks, hot breath against your ear. he speaks in that low tone of his,
“please what, love? please don’t touch me? please touch me? please make me cum? what is it?” alhaitham teases, letting out a soft snicker when you whine. “hm?”
“need you,” you grab at his body, mumbling into his chest. “need you to make me cum, please. i tried this morning, i couldn’t do it without you.” his dick twitches in his pants just hearing that. he curses, taking you into a kiss again,
“don’t ever say that to anyone else, please.” he says in a breathy pitch before dropping to his knees. “stay quiet, okay?” he says as he ducks under your skirt. his hands drag up your thighs, parting your legs.
alhaitham slides your panties over your shoes and pockets them for later. one look at your face and alhaitham can tell just how wet you are. he opens you up, looking at your swollen clit that’s just begging to be touched. he also notices how you clench around absolutely nothing. he chuckles lightly, sliding two fingers deep inside your cunt.
your knees instantly buckle, but alhaitham holds you in place. you let out breathy moans as your hands tangle into his silver strands. he tsks again, sighing against your cunt.
“quiet, baby. noisy girl, you always have something to say to me, dont you?” you don’t know if he’s talking about your moans or the fact your cunt is squelching over every movement of his finger. “so messy.”
you have to stop yourself from toppling forwards when alhaitham’s tongue darts out to your clit, circling around the bud. the tip of his tongue ghosts over it.
“look at me,” he demands and you instantly lock eyes with him. “good girl. don’t take your eyes off of me, okay?” he says in a soft tone, before his tongue swirls over your clit. he treats the poor bud with no mercy. swirling it in circles, wrapping his lips around it to suck on it even when you beg for him to stop.
your head is spinning and you feel as though your legs are about to give out on you. your grip on his hair tightens and alhaitham moans into your cunt.
“cant, haitham. i cant-“ he hums into your clit, still keeping eye contact with you. your head feels as though it’s about to explode with how intense the pleasure he’s giving you is.
“cum for me, sweetheart. i can feel how close you are, mahiya. do it,” alhaitham keeps a steady grip on your as you cream around his fingers, slick and cum gushing over his digits. you weakly whimper when his tongue laps at your clit, riding out your high. he’s quick to shush you, but putting his fingers into your mouth.
“clean it all up for me, love. good,” he praises you so gently and his fingers in your mouth feel so nice you might just fall asleep right here. “let’s get you home, darling. we still have more things to do,”
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© ilyhaitanii - do not repost, translate, plagiarize
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jyoongim · 6 months
Text
BLOOD & BLISS
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Human!Alastor x wife!Reader
Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 
Chapter four chapter six
Chapter Five
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Something smelled.
Every time you entered the kitchen, a putrid scent would assault your nose.
You didnt know where the smell was coming from, but you were determined to find it.
You had cleaned every inch of the kitchen, thinking it was some old food you had failed to dispose of.
But it still lingered.
You followed your nose, trying to locate the smell.
It led you to the cellar.
Did some animal get in and die from the heat? You mentally groaned at the thought at having to find some decomposed vermin and having to clean it up.
You held your reflex to gag as you descended the stairs. God it was rancid.
You didnt even bother to turn on the light as you traveled down to investigate. You looked around and from what you could see nothing was out of the ordinary.
But there was trash bags stuffed in a corner.
Alastor usually did well in making sure the trash didnt overflow, but you guess he had forgot.
Mustve been the deer you thought as you grabbed the bags and tried to move them.
But one bag was all too heavy for you to carry.
You huffed and grabbed at it again, thinking that carrying it at a different angle would help, but the contents of the bag shifted and must have not been sealed properly as something spilled out.
Cold, slimy liquid splashed your bare feet and you cringed.
This was definitely what was causing the smell.
Your stomach did flips as the smell assaulted your senses.
You figured you needed the light and made your way to find the switch.
Now seeing your surroundings clearly, you turned to see where you left the bag and froze.
Red. 
That’s what your eyes registered first. 
Thick red liquid was leaking out of the bag and when you approached further to the dumped contents your blood ran cold.
Was that a hand?
You felt bile rush into your throat.
There must be some mistake…what was a…a body doing in your cellar?
You shook your head and waddled back up the stairs.
Your heart was pounding in your chest. You were frazzled.
You poured yourself a glass of water. Maybe there was an explanation for this. There had to be right?
You took a deep breath. There was a body in your cellar. There was a dead person in your cellar. Could you even consider them a person? The state they were in…
Your eyes drifted to the pot on the stove. You approached the pot and opened it. The beef stew Alastor made. You sniffed it.
It smelled normal.
You picked up a piece of meat and examined it.
It didnt look like any meat you knew.
Your stomach curled as realization dawned on you.
Your husband had fed you human meat…
Your head was in the trash can before you knew it. Throwing up the water you had just sipped.
NO NO NO. NO NONO NO NO
You made your way to your pager, the line beeped and the deep brawl of your husband answered “Honey! Is everything ok? Im kind of busy”
You were panting, shock settling in you “I-I just wanted to know if you could come home straight from work today?”
The man chuckled “Of course dear. Why don’t you rest a bit you sound rattled” you bid him goodbye and sat on the couch.
Theres no way this was happening…
——————————————————————————————
Alastor quirked a brow when you didn’t come to greet him home.
The house was dimly lite except for the kitchen.
He smiled and found you sitting at the table, rubbing your swollen belly.
”You’re not indulging in a late night drink are you my dear?” He nodded towards the bottle of whiskey and glass in front of you.
You jumped slightly, having not heard him come home.
You quickly gathered yourself and have a shaky smile “of c-course not. I thought after a long week you would like to whine down”
He let out a low hum and made himself a glass.
Alastor noticed how you seemed…nervous.
You didn’t met his gaze and fidgeted in your seat.
”What’s troubling you cherie?” He asked downing the drink.
You wanted to blurt out and question him about the thing in your cellar, but you didnt know how he would react.
You had to wait for the right moment.
So you shook your head with a smile “Baby been giving me trouble that’s all. Didn’t realize how much I missed doing simple things without being out of breathe”
He laughed and leaned to place a kiss on your temple, a large hand over your very big bump. “You should take it easy. I told you you ain’t have to do anything. Just sit pretty and grow our child”
Your heart buzzed. 
There was no way your husband, your Alastor was a killer.
Maybe the hormones was making you delirious.
Maybe it really WAS just a deer carcass.
But you were certain you saw right…
”Did you clean today? You know chemicals aren’t good for you to be around. You shouldn’t be putting unnecessary stress on yourself darlin”
You pouted, wrinkling your nose “Something was rotten. You know how I feel about my kitchen Al.”
If you didnt know your husband, you wouldnt have noticed when he tensed up, but as quickly as it happened, it passed.
”Rotten?” He asked, face frowning.
You nodded “I threw out the strew, I think it went bad”
Alastor’s fingers drummed on your stomach and then he shrugged.
”guess Ill have to do better next time” he pulled you up and lead you unstairs to rest for the night.
”Guess Ill have to do better next time” what did that mean?
You had got dressed for bed and settled beside Alastor who pulled you to snuggle into his side.
You let out a yawn, eyes getting heavy “Al?”
He hummed in acknowledgment as he looked over some scripts.
“You would tell me if something was troubling you right?”
He glanced down to see you looking at him.
”Of course dear why?”
You shook your head, closing your eyes 
“Nothing just wondering”
Your soft snores filled the room and Alastor let out a sigh as he set down the papers.
He slipped out of bed and made his way to the kitchen.
He looked around. While he had made sure to thoroughly clean up his mess, your cleaning was another level.
He sniffed and nothing but chemicals greeted his senses.
Something was rotten
Could you have…
He made his way down into the cellar. Flicking the light on, his eyes scanned the room.
The black trash bags were still in place.
His eyes narrowed noticing the red liquid coming from th bag.
Oh that just wont do.
He hauled the bag over his shoulder and went into the backyard.
Alastor wouldnt let his clean reality be faltered by his sinful deeds.
After all…
you didn’t need to know your husband dirty little secret….
—————————————————————————————————
Hi Jyoongim here !
I am at the point of the story where everything is now about to shit and dont know how long this story will be. Im thinking at least five more chapters (They will be long) but who knows. Blood and Bliss WILL have a second series, but until then…i would like to address something…. The next few chapters will have heavy themes. As a black writer i feel it is important that I show the history of my people and what African Americans had to deal with in the early centuries in the South United States. With that being said; be mindful and open-minded about the themes that will appear in the next few chapters Thank you
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@th3-st4r-gur1 @yourdoorisunlocked @popamolly @doggone-devil @rulesareshadesofgrey @zombiesnips-blog @boney-horse @ilikemyteawithmilk @alastor-simp @alastorsgirl48 @alastors666creampie @alastwhore666 @alastorssimp @alastorsaries @al1fers-haven @dasimp777 @thewinchestah @certifiedcrybabyyy @markster666 @okay-babe @catherine1206 @angelicorpses @hazelfoureyes @yunimimii @smoky000 @siiv3r @southern-bayou-beau @luzzbuzz @karolinda007-blog @catmunist @ivebeenthearchersstuff @evedenn @luluxx118 @vexendoe @preciousbabypeter @justtnat @willowshadenox @celestial-vomit @over-the-little-blue-house @impulsivethoughtsat2am @purplecatsandhearts @strawberrypimp666 @peachedtvs @peachedtv @altruisticalastor @chanty-loves-turtles @cxrsedwxrlds @nightshadelm @theangeliclibrarian @voxsmalewife
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coolshadowtwins · 7 months
Text
SVSSS fanfic that I will never write-
LBH post canon accidently goes back in time. How? I don’t know, it isn’t important. If I had to pick a stupid reason, then in PIDW had a storyline where LBH went back in time to a wife’s past to like… learn more about her? To help her in the trauma? IDK but what I do know is that Peerless Cucumber would have ranged for hours about Airplane adding in the concept of time travel and then doing nothing else’s with it.
And guess who the subject of the wife plot is now??? That’s right- SQQ. Except the wife plot took the body and not the soul, and now Binghe is back during SJ’s disciple days.
LBH somehow, as the main character, manages to convince the peak lords of the time that he’s of Qing Jing! He is, really! He really laid on the charm here.
Previous Sect leader: I don’t know if I believe you, but since you look like such a polite young man-
LBH gets escorted away to a room by the head disciple. And who is the head disciple of the sect leader peak??? It’s Yue Qi, sad and depressed and lifeless because LBH managed to find himself in the period of time where YQY thinks SJ is dead!
LBH: I want to meet my young Shizun. Shen Qingqiu- Shen Jiu I think now?
YQY: …. Xiao Jiu is dead?
LBH: Maybe in the future for like five years but not right now!! He’s my super awesome Shizun! …. Do you want to drop everything to go look for him?
YQY: Oh boy, do I!!!
So the two bounce from the sect with no warning, looking Shen Jiu. Luckily, now knowing that he is alive and didn’t die in the fire, it’s pretty easy to follow the line of gossip that follows WY and SJ. And of course, the entire time, LBH is praising his Shizun.
Now, he hasn’t said that he was married to his Shizun. He didn’t want to spoil that just yet! He’ll reveal that to his younger Shizun himself when they find him. But until then, he can still tell YQY how awesome his Shizun is, and how nice, and how close he was to SQH and LQG and even to YQY himself! (That last one was a bit of a fib, of course. SQQ was always a little uncomfortable around the sect leader. But YQY was eating all of this up, being so happy that his childhood friend was so happy and well liked, and well…. It was only a small fib)
They finally catches up with them, and quickly dealing with the other guy, YQY and SJ have a nice reunion, having both think the other was dead! And of course, it was incredibly clear that YQY had been looking for SJ this whole time, which does wonders for his abandonment issues. SJ may yell at YQY for leaving the sect so suddenly and risking everything just for him, but on the inside, he is bursting for joy, trust me.
LBH is not bursting for joy. Like, at all. He had been so excited to see his Shizun but young and now that he’s here…. Something inside of him and screaming that this wasn’t his Shizun.
He had no reason to believe that. This was very clearly SQQ at 14~. But of course, he’s the 200 IQ protagonist and figures it out quickly that his wonderful Shizun/husband took over his body when LBH was 14 and that this was his shitty Shizun that made his early years in the sect awful.
He’s fully ok with that. If his husband needs to possess another man to be with him, than who is LBH to judge? Only the best body for him! The problem is, of course, that he has spent the entire trip over ranting to YQY about how good of a teacher SQQ was to him, and now YQY is excitedly telling everything he said to SJ. LBH can’t just…. Back track now! That would be weird, and if they think that someone will possess SJ later, then what if his husband never shows up??
So he goes along with it. It isn’t hard- he doesn’t hate SJ, not like PIDW him would. He was only under him for three years~ and a lot of what happened to him was still being justified in his head. So it’s just… whatever, to him at that point. He confirms what YQY had been saying, spins a charismatic lie to the sect about why they left and how GREAT SJ will be as a disciple in the future, and then he leaves. Just, fades away in front of everyone.
And now this is SJ’s life. He thinks he’s a good Shizun in the future, even if he can’t stand kids. He think that he becomes friends with SQH and LQG, which is oddly hard to do?? LQG angrily wants to fight him every time he sees him, which is super annoying, and SJ is 88% sure that SQH is talking to demons but, you know. If another version of him managed to become their friend without future knowledge, then he has to do it now! He has a head start on the race here, no way is he losing it!
He does become friends with them, and is still incredibly close to YQY as they grow up. He’s still… him, but his major heart demons- the abandonment by his Qi-Ge and being unsafe even in the sect- aren’t there anymore. He even manages to be an ok Shizun to a young LBH, somehow. He’s pretty sure that he’s sucking at that, btw, because the little brat gets on his nerves when they are in the same room for more than five minutes, but he’s being mostly polite! He had to wonder what the other version of him did to get such a glowing review from the future version of his disciple, because it has to be more than this.
Ironically, because I think it’s funny, this is the timeline that our LBH finds himself back in. The time travel was always meant to be a stable one timeline kinda thing, so anything he changed in the past affected the future. I imagine in PIDW that LBG didn’t do much of anything but maybe comfort his future wife, for Airplane’s fear of making a confusing paradox for himself. But this Binghe? Oh no, he did so much!
Because he saved SJ some heart demons, and helped him make friends despite his trauma, he’s not as prone to Qi divinations! Which means that he didn’t have a fatal one when LBH was 14! Which means when LBH gets back to his time after all of that, he takes one look at his ‘Shizun’ and knows that this isn’t his husband. Which means that his husband never possessed SJ!
He’s horrified, and spends a whole day moping around the peak, trying to think of ways to fix this. He has just gotten himself worked up to go and do something drastic when NYY finds him.
NYY: There you are!! Shen-Shidi has been looking for you all day!
LBH: H-huh?
NYY: Why are you moping around, huh? Did you and Shen-Shidi have a fight? Don’t worry! He’s your husband, I know he’ll forgive you-!
LBH: WHAT.
And that’s how he learns that while he isn’t married to his Shizun in this timeline, he is married to his Shixiong, Shen Yuan! Shen Yuan, who got shoved in Willy nilly when the system realized that SJ wasn’t going to die when he was supposed to.
There’s probably some sequel where LBH has to fake that he has memories of what happened in this timeline, which I imagine is somewhat close to Svsss? The system was still running around, even if a major player has changed. And LBH would just be so bad at faking it in front of two people and two people only- SJ and SY.
SY: Binghe, don’t you remember our first date? :)
LBH: …It wasn’t the water prison!
SY: ….that statement is correct but also the wrong answer.
And
SJ: Beast, you’re not coming to this Immortal Convenance. Don’t you remember meber what happened last time?
LBH: …. You didn’t push me into the endless abyss?
SJ:… That statement is wrong and I was also going for the HHP tag alongs you obtained.
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faithshouseofchaos · 2 months
Note
Shut up now you opened a whole new thought process mentioning mafia 🤭 what about mafia!danny? I don’t think anyone’s wrote about him but I feel like it just clicks. OH MAYBE reader doesn’t believe it when he casually mentions it, she thinks it’s a joke because of his happy personality but then maybe she catches him doing some *mafia stuff* iykwim and then she’s shocked at first, not talking to him for a bit. He clearly says that it’s not his fault because well he did technically tell her even though she thought it was a joke. Im a sucker for the injury trope and it fits so well with mafia so like he shows up to her house all bloody and bruised with flowers or smt and he’s like I don’t know how to make it up to you but you made me feel like the mafia never existed or wtv and asks what he can do to make it up 😫 this is pure brainrot so I’m not even sure if this makes sense so work your magic 💜
A/n— this has been In my drafts since mid June 😭
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Mafia!daniel ricciardo x fem!reader
Angst fluff hurt comfort you know the works
Word count— 7.3k words
Warnings — I did not edit this 😭 death but no one important slightly dark!Danny
“I don’t think this is a good idea” you groaned to your friend who had set you up on a blind date with her husband's best friends who he had known since childhood. “It’s a great idea you’ve been single for four years now y/n it’s time to get back out there and meet new people. I’m not saying you have to get into bed with him, just give him a chance” She replied. 
“Do I have to?” You asked looking at your friend with a pleading look practically begging her. 
“Come on y/n you’ll like him. Daniel’s nice and he’s funny. He's your type. Trust me, as soon as you see his smile you’ll fall and you’ll fall hard” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Ok fine I’ll go on one date,” you said crossing your arms “As long as you promise to keep an eye on my location I don’t want to end up on the next episode of Dateline” you added.
“Oh relax” your friend scoffed “Daniel’s a good guy and he’s a total gentleman, you won’t have to worry about that” 
“Don’t you worry I’ll be keeping tabs on you the whole time you’ll be fine” she reassured you. “You’ll see you’re going to fall in love with him. I’ll set up a date for you two, you’ll thank me when you’re living happily ever after” she said while putting a hand on your shoulder.
 A few days later your friend had set you up on a date. You were now about to leave your house for the date and before you left your friend had messaged and asked for your location so she could keep track of you. Once you sent her the address of the restaurant you were going to, you made your way there.
You finally got to the restaurant and looked around, a little nervously, until you spotted your date. You saw a tall attractive man, with messy brown hair and a charming smile sitting at one of the tables. He seemed to notice you as he stood up and smiled, waving to you to come over. As you walked towards him he pulled out a chair for you and once you sat down he pushed it back in before he sat back down. “You’re y/n right?” He asked as he gave you a charming smile.
You nodded and smiled back. “Yeah that’s me and I’m assuming you’re Daniel?” You asked as you looked up at him, taking in his handsome features.
He chuckled, “yep that’s me” he replied as he ran a hand through his hair. “You’re even prettier than your friend described you” he added as he looked you up and down shamelessly. You felt your cheeks warm up a little at his compliment but you tried to stay calm. “Well you’re not too bad looking yourself,” you said with a hint of playful sarcasm in your voice.
"Not too bad?" He repeated, feigning a hurt expression as he clutched his heart dramatically. "I'm devastated, absolutely devastated" he added with a smirk. "Much happier, especially coming from a beautiful girl like you," he said with a smirk. A second later the waiter came by and asked what you would like to drink.
You told the waiter what you wanted to drink and Daniel did the same. As the waiter left to put your drink orders in, you turned to Daniel. “So what do you do for a living?” You asked curiously. "I run a business that modifies cars" he replied with a smile. "It's a family business, handed down from generation to generation" he added, his pride obvious in his tone.
You were a little surprised by how casually he worded it. “Oh wow that sounds pretty cool, I’m surprised I haven’t heard of it before. What’s it called?” You asked curiously. “It’s a little Mafia thing,” Daniel says casually. 
Your eyes widened slightly at his casual statement. “A little mafia thing?” You repeated disbelief in your voice. “Are you being serious right now?”
He chuckled, "Yes, I'm being completely serious. It's not what you think though, we're not out committing crimes like the stereotype. We're all about family and respect here, a different type of mafia" he explained, his tone still calm and casual.
“I don’t believe that,” you said.
Daniel feigns a hurt expression again. “You wound me. I’m offended that you don’t believe me” he said with a fake pout. “But seriously, I’m not lying to you. I do run a mafia business that’s all about family” he added with a shrug. You couldn’t help but feel skeptical. “I’m sorry, I’m just having a hard time believing what you’re saying. It’s not every day you meet someone in the mafia” you said, still sounding doubtful.
Daniel chuckled, clearly amused by your skepticism. “I understand your disbelief, it’s not something you hear about every day. But I assure you, I’m not lying to you. I’ve been part of this family business for years” he said calmly, trying to reassure you. You were grateful for the subject change, and you quickly gave him an answer. “I work at a local animal shelter, nothing too exciting” you replied with a small shrug.
"That's pretty cool, I love animals," he said with a small smile. "Have any pets of your own?" He added curiously. You shook your head. "No, I wish I could have one but my apartment doesn't allow pets" you explained. "But I get to see and play with so many different animals every day at work, so I can't complain," you added with a smile.
He nodded. "Yeah, I get that. It sucks when you can't have a pet, but at least you get your animal fix at work" he replied with a grin. The conversation continued on and on, you found yourself lost in conversation with Daniel. He was charming and funny, the time flew by while talking with him. Before you knew it, hours had passed and it was starting to get late. Just as you were about to say something, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out to check your notification and saw a text from your friend asking if you were still on your date and if you were still okay.
You quickly typed out a response telling her that you were still on the date that everything was fine and you'd check in with her later. As soon as you hit send, you looked back up at Daniel, who was watching you curiously. “Everything alright?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you.
"Oh yeah, it was just my friend checking in on me. She's a bit overprotective" you explained with a chuckle. He chuckled as well. "Ah, the overprotective friend. Gotta love 'em" he replied with a grin.
“Yeah she’s my best friend and I love her” you replied smiling.
There was a brief moment of comfortable silence between the two of you before Daniel spoke up again. "It's getting pretty late. Can I walk you home?" He asked, looking at you with a warm expression. You smiled at his offer. "That's very sweet of you, but didn't you drive here? I don't want you to have to go back to get your car" you replied, feeling a sense of guilt at the thought of him having to walk back to his car just to drive you home.
He chuckled and shook his head. "It's fine, I don't mind. Plus, I'd feel better knowing you got home safely" he said with a small smile.
You couldn't help but feel a warm feeling at his words, touched by his concern for your safety. "Thank you, that's very sweet of you" you said, feeling a hint of a blush on your cheeks.
He smiled at your reaction, seeming pleased that he was able to make you blush. After paying for the bill, he stood up from his seat and gestured for you to do the same. He walked beside you, holding the door open for you as you exited the restaurant. The cool night air hit your face as you stepped outside, and you shivered slightly. Noticing your shiver, Daniel took off his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders. "Here, you look cold," he said as he placed his coat around your shoulders. The coat was warm and smelled like him, a woodsy and earthy scent that you found surprisingly pleasant.
"Thanks," you said as you pulled the coat closer around you. The two of you started walking down the street, the city around you becoming quieter as the night got later.
The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes, the only sound being the occasional car passing by. You glanced over at Daniel, who was walking beside you, his hands casually stuffed in the pockets of his pants.
"Can I ask you something?" He suddenly asked, breaking the silence between you two. "Yeah, of course. What is it?" You replied, curious about what he was going to ask. He hesitated for a moment before asking his question. "Why are you still single?" He blurted out, his tone casual but his words weighted. His question caught you off guard, and you weren't quite sure how to respond. "Uh, I don't know, just haven't found the right person I guess," you said with a shrug, feeling slightly embarrassed at his direct question.
He hummed pensively, seeming to consider your answer. "I find it hard to believe that a beautiful girl like you doesn't have men throwing themselves at you," he said, his eyes scanning your face intently. You blushed at his compliment, feeling embarrassed and flattered at the same time. "Yeah right, I'm not that much of a catch," you said with a self-deprecating chuckle, trying to downplay his words. He stopped in his tracks, causing you to stop too, and turned to face you. "Don't say that about yourself" he said sternly, his gaze never wavering. "You're gorgeous, and any man would be lucky to have you" he added firmly.
You stared at him for a moment, taken aback by his intensity. No one had ever spoken to you like that before, and it stirred up a feeling inside of you that you couldn't quite explain. "Thanks, I guess" you mumbled, feeling a bit overwhelmed by his compliment. He chuckled softly at your reaction, his expression softening. "No need to thank me, just stating the truth," he said with a shrug. "But seriously, I don't understand why you're single. You have everything a man looks for in a woman" he added, his eyes locking with yours.
You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, his intense gaze making you feel a bit flustered. "I don't know, maybe I'm just picky," you said, trying to sound nonchalant, but you knew that wasn't the real reason. The truth was, you were just too scared to put yourself out there again after your last relationship ended badly. He seemed to pick up on the underlying hint in your words, and his expression softened further. "Ah, I see. Previous relationship baggage, am I right?" He said with a knowing look. You were surprised that he had noticed, but you nodded in response. "Yeah, something like that," you said, feeling a mix of vulnerability and resignation.
He nodded in understanding. "I can understand that. Bad relationships can leave a mark on us, make us hesitant to trust again" he said thoughtfully. "But just because one relationship ended badly, it doesn't mean the next one will" he added, his gaze steady on you. You had to admit that he was right. You knew you couldn’t hold onto your past trauma forever, but it was easier said than done. "It's not just that, though," you said, feeling a bit guilty for unloading everything on him. "I'm also just scared of getting hurt again. Relationships are risky, and I don't know if I'm ready to take that risk again" you added with a sigh.
He listened attentively as you spoke, his expression still soft and understanding. "I get that. Falling in love is a risk, and there's always a chance of getting hurt. But the thing is, you can't live your life being afraid of getting hurt" he said, his voice gentle but firm. "If you don't take a risk and open yourself up to new relationships, you'll never experience the joy and fulfillment of finding someone who truly loves and cares about you" he added, his eyes never leaving yours.
His words hit you like a ton of bricks, making you realize that you were letting your past experiences dictate your future. "I know what you're saying is true, but it doesn't make it any easier," you said, feeling a mix of defensiveness and vulnerability. He nodded, seeming to understand your conflicting feelings. "I know it's not easy, and I'm not saying you should rush into anything. It's important to give yourself time to heal and process your emotions. But at the same time, don't shut yourself off to the possibility of finding happiness again" he said, his voice still soothing.
You felt a lump in your throat as you absorbed his words. You knew he was right, you couldn't keep living in the past and avoiding future relationships because of your fear of getting hurt. "You're very wise, you know that?" You said with a small smile, attempting to lighten the mood. He chuckled at your comment, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I have my moments," he said playfully. "But seriously, I just want you to consider what I'm saying. Don't let your past define your future, and don't sell yourself short. You're an amazing woman, don't forget that" he said, his gaze still fixed on you. 
You felt a pang in your chest at his words, his praise making you feel a flutter in your stomach. You had never felt this seen and understood by someone before, and it was both comforting and overwhelming at the same time. "Thank you," you said, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "I appreciate you saying that. It means a lot" you added, feeling a bit emotional.
He smiled at your response, looking pleased that he was able to make you feel better. "It's just the truth," he said matter-of-factly. "You deserve to be loved and taken care of, and I'm sure there are plenty of men out there who would be lucky to have you" he added, his tone casual yet affectionate. “I hope that you’ll do the honor and go out with me again?” Daniel added.
Your eyes widened in surprise at his unexpected question. "Wait, what?" You asked, caught off guard by his directness. He chuckled at your stunned expression. "Did I surprise you?" He asked, his tone teasing. "I thought I made it obvious that I'm interested in you," he said, his gaze still locked on yours. You felt your heart rate increase at his words, his gaze making you feel both flattered and a bit flustered. "You're interested in me?" You asked, hoping you didn't sound as dumbfounded as you felt.
He nodded, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Of course I am. You're gorgeous and intelligent, and you have a great sense of humor. Why wouldn't I be interested in you?" He said, his voice dripping with charm.
You couldn't help but smile at his compliments, feeling a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. "You're flattering me too much," you said, trying to play it cool. “But yes Daniel I would love to go on another date with you” His smile widened at your response, clearly pleased that you had agreed to go on another date with him. "Great, I'm glad to hear it. I promise not to disappoint" he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.
The two of you resumed walking, the conversation becoming lighter and carefree again. Even though you had only been on one date with him, you felt a certain ease and comfort with Daniel that you hadn't felt with anyone else before.
As you walked, you couldn't help but sneak glances at Daniel from time to time, noticing small details about him that you hadn't noticed before. The way his hair fell slightly over his forehead, the crinkles by his eyes when he smiled, the way his hands moved effortlessly in his pockets.
You were so lost in admiring him that you almost didn't notice when he spoke up again. "You're staring," he said, his tone playful. You felt a heat rise to your cheeks as you realized he had caught you staring. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," you said, feeling embarrassed at being caught.
“Thank you for walking me home, you didn’t have to do that,” you said, thanking Daniel. He smiled at your thank you, appreciating your gratitude. "It was no problem at all. I wanted to make sure you got home safely" he said, his tone still warm and genuine.
You arrived at your apartment building, the outside light casting a soft glow over the both of you. You turned to face Daniel, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervous energy. "Well, this is me," you said, gesturing towards the building behind you. "Thanks again for walking me home, it was really sweet of you" you added, looking up at him with a small smile.
He smiled back at you, his eyes roaming over your face as if trying to memorize every detail. "It was my pleasure. I'm glad I was able to spend more time with you" he said, his tone soft and sincere.
There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you, the air thick with unspoken tension. You knew that this was the part where you were supposed to say goodbye and go inside, but somehow neither of you seemed to want the night to end just yet.
——
Weeks had passed since your first date with Daniel, and much had changed since then. You had seen each other many times since then, going on numerous dates and spending countless hours talking and getting to know each other better.
Even though you had only been official for a few months, you felt as though you had known each other for years. Daniel had become a constant presence in your life, his presence both comforting and exhilarating at the same time.
As you sat on your couch, mindlessly flipping through channels on the TV, you heard a knock on your door. You looked up, surprised that anyone would be visiting you unannounced at this hour. You got up from the couch and walked over to the door, wondering who could be on the other side. As soon as you opened the door, your heart skipped a beat as you saw who was standing in front of you.
Daniel stood there, looking unfairly attractive as usual, wearing a fitted shirt and jeans that hugged his muscular frame. He had a small smile playing on his lips, his eyes scanning your face intently.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he added, leaning one arm against the doorframe. You shook your head, feeling a flutter in your chest at the sight of him. “No, not at all. Come in” you said, stepping aside to let him enter your apartment.
He walked inside, his tall frame making your small apartment seem even smaller. He looked around the room, seemingly taking in every detail. 
“Cute place.” he finally said, turning to face you.
“Thanks,” you said with a small smile, feeling a bit nervous under his gaze. “So, what brings you here? Not that I mind, of course” you added quickly, not wanting him to think you didn’t want him there.
He smiled at your nervousness, clearly amused. “Can’t I just come over and see my girlfriend?” he asked, the word girlfriend rolling off his tongue effortlessly. He chuckled, clearly seeing through your act. 
“Girlfriend I didn’t know I was your girlfriend already” you replied coolly with a smile. 
“You’re such a bad liar,” he said, stepping closer to you. He was now standing so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating off his body.
He gently reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin for a few seconds longer than necessary. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “You know I can read you like an open book, right?” he said in a low voice.
Daniel took another step forward, and now his body was almost touching yours. You could feel the heat he was radiating, and you found yourself leaning into him involuntarily.
“I know you like it when I call you, girlfriend” he whispered, his lips brushing gently against the shell of your ear. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, and you knew he was well aware of the effect he had on you.
Without another word, Daniel lowered his head and pressed a kiss to your neck, his lips soft and warm against your skin. You tried to keep your breathing steady, but it hitched as his lips moved to your jawline, trailing small kisses down to your collarbone.
He continued to press kisses to your skin, his teeth nipping gently at your collarbone. His hands came up to rest on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you closer to him. You could feel his body pressed up against yours, every inch of him solid and warm.
“You know, I’ve missed you” he murmured against your skin, his lips moving back up to your neck. He nipped at the sensitive spot behind your ear, causing your legs to almost buckle at the action.
“I missed you too, if I’m being honest I hate when you leave for long periods” you responded.
“I know, I hate it too,” he said, his hands tracing small circles on your hips. “I wish I could stay here with you all the time but, well, sometimes work calls” he added, his lips tracing a path down your neck again. 
He pressed another kiss to your collarbone before lifting his head to look at you. His eyes met yours, and you could see the mixture of affection and hunger in his gaze. “But I’m here now,” he said, his hands sliding around to your lower back. He pulled you closer to him, his body now pressed tightly against yours, leaving no space between the two of you.
You could feel the heat and hardness of his chest through his shirt, and you could hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat. His scent surrounded you, a mix of musk and aftershave, and you couldn’t help but inhale deeply, craving more.
He pressed his forehead against yours, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt as he spoke again. “And I plan on making the most of it.”
The intensity in his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the heat pooling in your belly. “You always do” you managed to say, struggling to keep your voice steady under the weight of his gaze.
He chuckled at your response, seemingly pleased by your admission. “Damn right, I do,” he said, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. 
———
Months later 
You hadn’t seen Daniel in a few weeks due to him going out of town for work. You knew he was going to be home later in the evening so you wanted to surprise him. Walking up the pathway to the front door you took out the key to Daniel’s house that he gave you and unlocked the door. As you stepped inside, the house was quiet and dimly lit. It was clear that Daniel wasn't home yet, but you knew he would be back soon. You set down your bag by the door and made your way further into the house.
The familiar scent of his cologne lingered in the air, and you took a deep breath, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over you. You missed him a lot more than you’d expected. You walked through the living room and into the kitchen, debating whether to make something to eat or just wait for Daniel to arrive. As you stood by the counter, lost in thought, you heard a faint sound in the other room. It sounded like a soft thump, followed by a muffled curse.
Concerned, you left the kitchen and headed towards the source of the noise. As you reached the door to the study, you heard another sound, followed by a low groan. 
You quietly opened the door and stepped inside your heart racing. When your eyes focused on the figure in the room, your heart skipped a beat.
 standing in the middle of the room there Daniel was surrounded by other men who stood around a man who was tied to a chair in front of Daniel. The man tied to the chair was beaten badly. Daniel's eyes were dark and intense, and his expression was colder than usual. He was wearing a black suit, the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a hint of his chest.
The other men in the room were all dressed similarly, and they stood off to the side, watching intently. It was clear that they were either bodyguards or associates of some sort. One of them stepped forward and handed Daniel a knife, which he took without hesitation. 
Daniel took a step closer to the man tied to the chair, his eyes scanning over him with a mixture of anger and disdain. You watched in shock as he placed the tip of the knife under the man's chin, lifting his head to meet his gaze.
“What did I tell you?” Daniel asked, his voice laced with barely contained fury. The man in the chair, who was terrified, trembled visibly at the sound of Daniel's voice. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he just looked up at Daniel with wide, fearful eyes. 
“Cat got your tongue?” Daniel said, his tone almost mocking. He pressed the knife a little harder against the man's skin, just enough to draw a thin trickle of blood. The other man winced and let out a small whimper.
The other men behind Daniel let out small chuckles, clearly enjoying the sight of the man in distress. You stood there, frozen in shock and disbelief, not sure what to do or say.
Daniel leaned closer to the man, his eyes never leaving his face. “You know what I do to people who talk too much?” he asked, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper.
The man in the chair frantically shook his head, tears streaming down his face. He looked terrified.
“No? Well, that's a shame.” Daniel said, his tone still cool and mocking. “I thought I made it clear to you that I don't like it when people talk too much.” he continued, his eyes narrowing. “And yet here we are, with you bleeding and tied to a chair. Did you think I was joking?” he added, his voice growing colder with each word. The other men in the room shifted their weight, clearly enjoying the show. They knew not to interfere, Daniel was the boss and this man had wronged him in some way.
Daniel ran the tip of the knife lightly over the man's cheek, leaving a thin trail of red in its wake. “I guess I need to teach you some manners, huh?” he said, his voice a low growl. “Maybe then you'll learn to shut your damn mouth.”
The man in the chair began to sob loudly, pleading for mercy. “Please, I'll do anything! I'm sorry! I'll never do it again, I swear!” he cried out, his voice breaking with fear and desperation.
Daniel seemed unmoved by the man's pleading. He let out a humorless chuckle and looked over at the other men in the room. “You hear that?” he said, motioning to the man. “He says he's sorry. Do you think I care?”
The men in the room all shook their heads, some of them letting out more chuckles at the sight of the man's desperation. One of them spoke up, "He's worthless boss. Just get rid of him."
Daniel thought about it for a moment, his eyes still locked on the man in the chair. “You know what? You're right. Let's end this.” he said, his tone cold and detached. He turned to one of the men, handing him the knife. “Finish it,” he said simply, before stepping away from the man and walking over to the other side of the room.
The man who had been given the knife stepped forward, a cruel smile playing on his face. The man with the knife just laughed at his pleading. “Too late for that, buddy,” he said, his tone smug. “You should have thought of that before you crossed him.” He brought the knife up to the man's throat, the blade glinted in the light. The man in the chair let out a shrill scream just as one of Daniel’s men stabbed him in the chest. 
“No!!” You screamed making yourself known to the others. Daniel whipped around to face you. Daniel's eyes widened in surprise as he saw you standing there, horror etched on your face. He seemed caught off guard by your appearance, and for a moment he just stared at you. Then, he took a step towards you, his expression unreadable.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice cold and guarded. The other men in the room all turned to look at you, their eyes appraising you with curiosity and suspicion. You stood there, frozen in shock and fear. You hadn't expected to walk in on a scene like this, and the sight of the man being beaten and stabbed right in front of you was almost too much to handle.
“I-uh-I gotta go,” you said running down the hallway and out the front door to your car.
Daniel watched you leave, a mixture of shock and anger etched on his face. He was about to go after you when one of his men spoke up.
“You gonna go after her?” he asked a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Baby wait!” Daniel called out after you his heart sank in his chest and he felt like he was going to be sick. You heard Daniel's voice behind you, but you didn't stop. You kept walking, your heart racing and your mind reeling from what you just witnessed.
Daniel called out again, his voice pleading now. "Please, wait! I can explain!"
Despite your anger and fear, you reluctantly stopped in your tracks. You turned to face him, your eyes swimming with tears.
"Explain? Explain what, exactly?" you said, your voice shaking with emotion.
Daniel took a few steps towards you, his expression earnest and remorseful. "Please, just give me a minute to explain," he said, his voice softer now.
You stood there, your arms wrapped tightly around your middle, trying to keep calm. "Fine," you said, taking a deep breath. "Explain."
He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and anxious. "That guy, he's...he's a rival gang member. He crossed a line, and I had to deal with it," he said, his voice low and serious.
"And dealing with it involves beating him up and having him killed? In one of your spare rooms m?" you asked, your voice rising in disbelief.
Daniel let out a sigh, his hand running through his hair again. "It's not that simple," he said, his tone still gentle. "This is how things work in my world. You knew that when we started dating."
"But I didn't expect to walk in on a scene like that!" you exclaimed, your voice cracking slightly. "Watching you torture someone...it was terrifying. I've never seen anything like that before."
Daniel's expression softened, and he took another step towards you. "I know it was shocking," he said, his voice quiet and sincere. "But you have to understand, this is my life. This is what I do. And I can't change that, no matter how much I might want to."
"But what about me?" you asked, your voice shaking. "How am I supposed to feel safe and secure in a relationship with you, knowing what you're capable of?"
Daniel took another step closer, reaching out to touch your arm. "I would never hurt you," he said, his voice low and firm. "Please, you have to believe me. You're the most important thing in my life, and I would never do anything to put you in danger."
You wanted to believe him, you did. But the image of the man who was beaten and stabbed was still fresh in your mind, and it was hard to reconcile that image with the man standing in front of you.
"It's just...I don't know if I can handle this. What I just saw, it's not something I can just ignore," you said, your voice shaking with emotion.
Daniel's expression hardened slightly, and he withdrew his hand from your arm. "So you're saying you can't accept my life?" he asked, his voice laced with disappointment.
"I..." you started, struggling to find the right words. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice small and uncertain. "I just...I need time to process all of this."
Daniel's expression softened again, and he let out a deep sigh. "I understand," he said, his voice sounding resigned. "You need space. I get it."
He took a step back, giving you some space. "Just...promise me you'll come back when you're ready to talk," he said, his eyes searching your face.
You nodded, still feeling a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. "I promise," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Okay," he said, his voice quiet and resigned. "I'll give you space. Just please, be careful and stay safe." With that, he turned and walked back towards the house, leaving you standing there alone in the dark. You stood there for a few moments, watching him go, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. You knew you needed time to sort out your feelings and figure out what to do next. But deep down, you also knew that you could never forget what you had just witnessed.
With a lump in your throat, you turned back towards your car and climbed inside, feeling more confused and scared than ever before. As you drove away, leaving Daniel and his world behind, you couldn't help feeling like your life had been irrevocably changed.
—��€”—-
Days turned into weeks, and you hadn't contacted Daniel since that fateful night. You had been avoiding any kind of communication, needing time to sort out your thoughts and feelings. But as the days went on, you felt a nagging sense of guilt and longing whenever you thought about him, wondering if he was okay.
Daniel's world was one of danger and violence, and he was so used to being surrounded by it that he didn't realize its effect on others. But for you, the sight of him tormenting and killing that man had been a shocking wake-up call. You had never been exposed to that kind of life before, and it terrified you. The thought of being involved with someone capable of such violence and cruelty was daunting.
You had been struggling to reconcile the Daniel you knew – the gentle, caring boyfriend who had shown you only tenderness and kindness – with the Daniel you had witnessed that night, someone who was cold and dangerous. Despite your fears and uncertainties, you couldn't shake off the feeling that you cared deeply for him. You missed the moments of laughter, the stolen kisses, and the comfort of his presence. You missed his easy smile and the way he could make you feel wanted and adored.
One night, as you were tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, you heard a faint knock at your door. You sat up, your heart skipping a beat. Could it be Daniel? You got up and walked towards the door, your mind racing with mixed emotions. Part of you was terrified at the thought of seeing him, but another part of you was itching to see his face and hear his voice.
You hesitantly opened the door, revealing Daniel standing there on the other side. He looked tired, worried, bruised, battered, and beaten but his expression softened as soon as he saw you.
"Can I come in?" he asked, his voice quiet and weary. You felt a lurch in your chest at the sight of him, the emotions coursing through you in a confusing jumble. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. But then, without thinking, you nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. Daniel stepped inside, his eyes fixed on you. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, with dark circles under his eyes and a haggard expression on his face. The sight of him like this made your heart hurt.
The two of you stood there in silence, neither of you quite knowing what to say or do. The air was thick with tension, and the silence was deafening.
Finally, Daniel spoke up, his voice cracking slightly. "I've missed you," he said, his expression full of vulnerability. Hearing his voice, you felt a wave of emotions wash over you. You wanted to stay mad at him, to keep your walls up and protect yourself, but it was as if the very sight of him had broken down all your defenses.
You didn't say anything, but you didn't need to. The look in your eyes spoke volumes. You missed him too, more than you wanted to admit. Daniel took a step closer to you, his eyes searching your face. "I know you're scared," he said, his voice low and earnest. "I know what I do is not something you can easily accept. But please, let me make it up to you."
Without thinking, you reached out and traced your fingers over the bruises and cuts on his face, feeling a pang of sympathy and concern. "You look like you've been through hell," you said, your voice soft and gentle.
Daniel let out a weary sigh, tilting his head slightly into your touch. "It's been a rough week," he admitted, his eyes closing briefly at the feel of your fingers on his skin. 
The two of you stood there like that for a few moments, not speaking, just drinking each other in. Despite your earlier resolve to keep your distance, you found yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence.
The silence stretched on, the only sound the faint hum of the city outside and your breaths mingling together. Finally, you spoke up, breaking the heavy silence between you. "I don't know what to do, Daniel," you said softly, your voice shaky.
Daniel opened his eyes and looked at you, his gaze intense and unwavering. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked, his voice taut with anticipation.
Your breath caught in your throat as you met his eyes. You wanted to say yes, to push him away and keep yourself safe. But something held you back, something deep inside that refused to let him go.
"No," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I don't want you to go." A relieved exhale escaped from Daniel's lips, and he took another step closer to you. His hands twitched at his sides as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but wasn't sure if it was welcome.
“Let’s get you cleaned up” you whispered looking at him. Daniel gave you a weak smile, relief, and gratitude in his eyes. "Okay," he said quietly, following you into the bathroom.
You sat him down on the edge of the bathtub and began rummaging through your medical supplies, grabbing some antiseptic and bandages. As you tended to his wounds, you were acutely aware of his presence, the heat of his body, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.
The silence was heavy as you worked, the only sound was the occasional hiss from Daniel as you cleaned his cuts. His eyes were fixed on you, watching your every move with a mixture of pain and something deeper, something more intense.
When you finished cleaning his wounds, you gently placed a small bandage over a particularly deep gash on his forehead. "There," you said quietly, your hands lingering on his skin for a moment longer than necessary.
Daniel lifted his hand, covering yours with his own. His skin was warm and rough, the contrast between your soft fingers and his calloused palms sending a shiver down your spine. He looked up at you then, his eyes meeting yours, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to stop. There was so much unspoken emotion in his gaze, so much longing and desire.
“Please forgive me I’ll do anything baby and I mean anything,” Daniel says his voice was raw and pleading, and the sight of him like this tugged at something deep within you. The way he was looking at you, the desperation in his eyes, made it hard to hold onto your anger and fear.
"Anything?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not entirely sure what you were asking for.
"Anything," Daniel repeated, his voice almost a growl, his gaze intense as he looked into your eyes. "Name it, and I'll do it. Just...don't leave me."
His words sent a thrill through you, the intensity of his plea setting your heart racing. You knew you should push him away, maintain your distance, and protect yourself, but the way he was looking at you, the desperation in his voice...it was undoing all your defenses.
You took a small step closer to him, your hands still resting on his face. "I'm trying to forgive you, Daniel," you said quietly, your voice hoarse with emotion. "But it's not easy, not after what I saw. I can't forget it, no matter how much I want to."
Daniel let out a ragged sigh, his eyes closing briefly as he leaned into your touch. "I know," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "And I don't expect you to just forget about it. But please, give me a chance to make it up to you. I can't lose you."
The pleading tone of his voice sent a wave of sympathy through you, and you couldn't help but soften a little. "How can I trust you?" you asked quietly, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. "How can I know that you won't drag me into something dangerous again?"
Daniel sighed, his eyes falling closed again as he basked in the feeling of your touch. "I promise you, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. You'll never have to see that side of me again, I swear it."
He lifted his hand, grasping your wrist and pressing your palm against his cheek, holding your hand in place. "Please," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please give me another chance. I love you."
Those three words, spoken with such raw emotion, shook you to your core. The realization that he truly loved you, despite everything that had happened, was both exhilarating and terrifying.
"I love you too," you heard yourself saying, the words slipping out before you could stop them. And as soon as they were out, you knew they were true. Despite all your fears and reservations, you loved him too, wholeheartedly and completely.
—————-
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hypertechnica · 16 days
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i’m going to make fiddauthor art with fidds wearing his wedding ring and you are NOT going to like it
big obligatory banner that says “cheating is bad don’t do it i just like stories with relationship drama”
closeted, internally homophobic gay men who are married with kids has to be the trope i’m weakest to. no person involved is escaping the despair brought on by a relationship built on a well intentioned, desperate lie, born out of a desire to be normal and good
he WANTED to love her so fucking badly. he felt no ill will towards her and he loves their son more than words can say. he thought the attraction, the way she felt about him, would come with time. it didn’t. he doesn’t want to hurt her yet was doomed to from the start, and he’s truly, truly sorry. this does not absolve him of anything whatsoever and she has the full right to never want to speak with him again. he lied! he pretended to feel the same when he never once felt anything but platonic affection! he’s been in love with someone else this whole fucking time! and their kid… he’s caught in the middle of it all, too young to understand why his father would hurt his family like this.
and then he disappears and never comes back. imagine you’re 5 and your dad goes to the middle of the woods with his buddy for science shit, all of the sudden your parents are yelling on the phone and signing papers, and then he goes MIA. for years.
imagine your husbands “buddy” was the one he was thinking of all this time, not you, never you. and the first chance he gets to run away from you, he takes, and you should have been suspicious by the rushed frenzy of it all, the phone calls getting shorter and shorter until it fizzles to nothing. he forgot to get you a christmas gift. he hand-made him two. there has to be something wrong with you, it has to be your fault. you wish you married the man he becomes when he’s in his presence.
he folded when you started questioning him directly - he’d been to neurotic to ever be a good liar. you thought he was the one. he thought you were nice.
by the time the divorce is finalized he’s different in a wrong way. confused, angry, forgetful, insane - if the giant homicidal robot pterodactyl you’ve been harassed by is any indication. (he’s had a bad habit of building homicidal robots when he’s mad since they met -engineer things- but it was never directed at her - thankfully it never actually does anything) he’s clearly abusing drugs - you’d feel bad if he hadn’t abandoned you with the burden of explaining why your son can’t see his father anymore.
it’s a rotten bit of your soul, but time heals you. you move on and no longer think of him. trust in your career. find a man who truly loves you with no motives attached. raise your kid to be a good man. and in a fashion not unlike shakespearean dramatic irony, this makes him move to gravity falls to find and take care of his father. you couldn’t care less what hee doing now, but damn it, it’s his father, what is the kid supposed to do? but its futile- he appears to have no remorse, hell, no memory of the incident in the first place. (this isn’t his fault but how are they supposed to know that?) so he grows bitter and cold just like his mother used to be.
imagine that.
all over a mans inability to do anything but live in denial. to force himself to live in a box and pine like a dying man over the right one at the wrong time, destined to crash and burn. to take denial to a new level- a cult, brain damaging radiation, a total ego death - just to take the edge off. take off that damn wedding ring
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jenicaclarisse · 7 months
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NOZEL SILVA
What’s it like dating the serious and disciplined nozel silva
writing: canon info, fluff to fluff, relationship headcanons and husband nozel being a cutie pie cause he is. Do not see many fics about him so I’ll do it ✋
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Fragile - Laufey
MEETING:
Getting to know him was awkward but yet interacting with him left you a feeling of curiosity and intrigued of his mysterious nature. How he kept to himself and remained poised to reflect his high status. You assumed he was the serious type and he is wholeheartedly
Overtime you noticed his mannerisms, despite his love for wine he couldn’t handle it very long as you noticed his usually straight back being slightly more hunched as the night grew.
“I assume you can’t handle your wine very well Mr. Silva.” You sat at one of the chairs provided by the bar.
Nozel didn’t notice you at first as he stubbornly took one more sip of his glass. He looked at you with a raised brow and crossed his arms.
“Women shouldn’t comment on a man’s capacity to handle alcohol.”
“So it’s the truth?”
Nozel nudged his lip forward.
“Silence yourself.”
Despite that, you giggled at his expense as his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. He asked what was so funny and you replied was his face. Nozel quickly palmed at his face as he looked at you once more.
“I think I have seen you from the past.”
“Oh? Do enlighten me.” You replied.
He proceeded to tell you of his sightings of the times he had caught you walk by and or during your missions where you were with your squad.
That night he asked you of the things you experienced as a magic knight. You replied hastily as his questions came right after the other. All the time his face was adorably serious, he couldn’t even finish his wine.
In return, you asked him what he liked. He gestured to his wine.
“Wine.” He simply said.
“But you couldn’t finish it though.” You remarked.
“Then don’t ask what I like” He crossed his arms.
You laughed at his face as he decided to down half of the left over wine from his glass.
“And now you did finish it”
Nozel gulped down and nudged you to the side in slight annoyance.
“It will do you well if you silenced yourself”
You laughed once again as he now faced away from you with a gruffy sound coming from his throat.
As the night came to a close, you and him left the bar as you clutched your bag from outside the establishment. Nozel turned to you.
“I look forward… to more conversations with you.”
Despite yourself, you managed to peak the interest of Nozel. Although there wasn’t a personal meeting for much later, the both of you indulged in correspondence via letters
There he expressed his interest clearly, answering whatever you have asked in the letters you have sent. He very passionately agreed to your whims and there you learned that he can be sweet
If the flowers at your doorstep wasn’t enough then surely the desserts, dresses and jewelry can surely change your mind.
He brought you to many dates most of which was flying over the city of clover as per your request. But on times where you preferred to not tire out nozel by flying out into the sky for hours on end the both of you settled for a nice dinner, roasted duck.
Soon you began to realize that Nozel did have a cute side. He was slightly clumsy and even socially awkward at times, how he’s not completely aware that animals tend to dislike him and the way his braid makes him even more angry looking
You even teased him. “Angry bird” you call him
You ask nozel to teach you spells on times where he had free time which he very begrudgingly agreed to do.
You often pull at his braid and he slaps your hand in annoyance. But sometimes, sometimes he may let you braid it yourself.
One thing you noticed much later was the fact that he had a fan base! Everytime he appeared near the plaza or on times where he had to fight you would often hear cheers from the crowd. Mostly women.
But you rest assured. Knowing that man was yours.
———————
Nozel Silva is so fine smhhh
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