#okay once more with less errors

[starberryhwa]

right here.

pairing: seonghwa x afab!reader  genre: established relationship, smut, pwp, fluff <3 wc: 2k tags: nsfw (18+) MDNI, mentions of anxiety, reader has panic attack, angst? if you squint?, f! receiving, softdom! seonghwa, fingering, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, honey etc.), reader being emotionally vulnerable,,, aftercare. tulip's notes: hihi ᵔᴗᵔ so here's my first official fic! i wanted to do something short and sweet first before diving into my other ideas. i have no clue how this will be received LMAO.. but honestly, writing is pure self-indulgence. there may or may not be errors in my writing, english isn't my first language! anywho, wishing anyone reading a great day ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅!!

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you had never really been one to have a quiet mind. there was always something silently bubbling away inside your head. be it school, university, friends, family, obligations, extracurriculars, your future life-- hell, even taking basic care of yourself became a ‘task’ that you constantly worried about. 

but then came along park seonghwa. 

and what followed with him was comfort; a sense of tranquility. 

your mind seemed to be more at ease, worries simmering down in all the times you were in his presence.

so, why was that familiar feeling of dread building up in your chest tonight? 

your relationship with seonghwa was of many years.

what were once stolen glances, secret letters in lockers, and shy smiles in college, soon became the most loving relationship you could ever dream of, and with the most perfect man you could ask for in your life.

he was a sweetheart. tooth-achingly sweet. he showed up at your doorstep towards the end of senior year to confess his crush on you - face hidden behind an enormous array of flowers and a toothy grin decorating his beautiful face. 4 years down the line, he, without fail, brought the same array of pink tulips at the end of each month (to your now shared apartment) saying:

"i never want to forget the day you made me the luckiest man alive"

he was perfect. your life felt perfect with him.

albeit the occasional shadow of anxiety lingering over you, threatening to spill into your body.

you had told him a few months into dating. that you were prone to worry more than the average person. that you tended to get caught up in your own thoughts and fears until it felt your heart was being suffocated.

seonghwa said nothing. he simply took your hand in his, kissed it, and placed both of your intertwined hands over your chest, where your heart was.

"i love you. what can i do to help ?"

although your worries seemed to burden you less since becoming seonghwa's, they were never completely gone. and tonight, they seemed to be encroaching your mind at a rapid pace.

all sorts of dreadful worries swirled around when you were supposed to be sleeping. your boyfriend was fast asleep next you, and not wanting to wake him, you quietly tossed and turned in bed, clutching the ends of your blanket with sweaty hands, forcing your eyes shut and hoping this would also force the thoughts away.

but nothing seemed to work. you felt your throat closing up as the minutes on your bedside clock went by begrudgingly slow. right then, a wave of dizziness attacked you, drops of sweat covering your forehead, the bile creeping up in your stomach, it's as if someone was holding you down and attempting to strangle you while all you could do was shiver and shake and-

"baby?"

you'd woken seonghwa up. "honey breathe with me please. c'mon let's count together, okay?"

you hadn't even noticed how shallow and fast you were breathing. small strangled spurts left your throat; body partially numb to the cold hands snaking around your waist and thighs to help you sit up.

"baby, focus on my voice. we're gonna count up to 3 and then down to 1, think you can do that for me?"

you mustered the little control you had left of yourself to nod.

"good, come here angel". seonghwa had somehow managed to crawl from his side of the bed to sit behind you. he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled, your back now snug against the front of his own body, his legs enclosing yours. "1... 2... 3... breathe in for me".

you managed to take in some air.

"now 3...2...1...breathe out for me angel"

you exhaled.

"good job sweetheart! you're okay now. we're okay, i'm right here with you and you did so great for me" seonghwa beamed.

you hadn't even noticed your boyfriend had his hand placed over your heart, as if an attempt to sync both of your heartbeats together.

well, it worked. your breathing now rhythmically matched seonghwa's. once again, the worries started to simmer down as you let out a deep sigh of relief and relaxed back into the arms that embraced your sides, resting your head on seonghwa's shoulder to gently look up at him.

he was so beautiful, even after being woken up from sleep in the middle of the night. his usual smooth, silky black hair now ruffled and fluffy in places, falling in separate strands across his sculpted face. the eyes that looked down on you sparkled from the lights of the city shining in through the window of the bedroom. his nose was a soft shade of red (a cute feature you noticed after he woke up in the mornings, often complaining about how his nose had become stuffy overnight). and then his lips. his pretty, pink, plump lips. how they managed to look so moisturised at all times was a secret you were yet to find out... but still, there was no doubt that the man holding you right now was the most handsome being in the whole world.

"you can't seem to stop staring baby" seonghwa softly mumbled, a small smile on the edge of his mouth at how the blush was creeping up on your cheeks.

"sorry... i just..." you were flustered. so many years of being together and this man still made you feel like a giddy teenager in puppy love.

"you're really pretty" you managed to mutter out.

"why thank you, thought you're the prettiest my sweetheart" seonghwa's small smile had turned into his signature toothy grin. you were mesmerised by how good he looked in the black tank top he had worn to bed. your body now hyper-aware that his hands were laying across your tummy, dangerously close to the area in between your thighs which felt warmer by the second. you realised your faces were so close to each other that even moving forward an inch would mean-

"kiss me hwa"

seonghwa raised an eyebrow, almost amused at your words.

"please" you nearly whined.

you pleaded. he had to give in. he'd do anything for his sweetheart.

not to mention he'd also eyed down how the straps of your night-dress had fallen down your shoulders and the way your dress was riding up your plush thighs, all while you were also busy staring at his features.

seonghwa didn't need to be told twice before closing the few inches of gap between you two, craning his neck down just slightly to kiss your pretty lips. it was soft, it was oh so sweet. your breaths mixing with each other as the kiss deepened, and out of habit, you had already opened your mouth to allow seonghwa to slip his tongue in (which drove you fucking crazy each time). his tongue explored yours as if this was the first time and you couldn't help the small whine that escaped you when he finally pulled back, a string of saliva connecting your mouths.

his hands were now resting so close, too close, to your heat. both of your faces flushed red.

“baby, we should go back to bed. you seem tired and it’s…” seonghwa looked over at the alarm clock, “3 in the morning”.

but nothing on his face conveyed that he had any intention to sleep: eyelids half closed, lips parted, eyes focused on taking in how gorgeous you looked, all hot and bothered just for him.

and his hands. oh those damned hands that were inching closer every second. his slender fingers playing with the pretty and small bow on the top your panties.

“i can’t go back to sleep so easily, you know that hwa” this time, you purposefully whined out your words while looking at him with fluttering eyelashes, so he could take the hint.

seonghwa took a few seconds to think. then a knowing smirk slowly crept up on his lips. "will this help angel?" he asked in a hushed tone. you raised a brow, confused as to what exactly 'this' meant and just as you were about to inquire, you felt his hand cup your heat.

oh.

then seonghwa's lips crashed onto yours. and at the same time, his fingers worked on applying more and more pressure in between your thighs while you unconsciously pushed yourself against his hand, grinding in order to relieve the pulsing ache in any way you could. seonghwa then moved onto using solely his middle and ring fingers to rub soft and painfully slow circles around your clit; already sensitive after your makeout session.

you could feel how your own panties were clinging onto you, sticky with arousal and in the way of what you needed.

"more, please" with no patience, your own hand took his and quickly shoved it down your panties (which you were too tired to shimmy out of at this hour).

"i need you so much. please please please hwa" you breathily moaned out. seonghwa let out a small grunt at the sudden motion of you taking his hand and making direct contact with your wetness. but he loved it. "this pussy never stops being wet for me, hm angel?" he whispered into your ear.

"n-no" you struggled to say a single word. he'd already made good on his intention to help you go back to sleep quick, and slipped two cold and long fingers inside of you, prodding that special gummy spot only he could find in a matter of seconds.

"you did so well earlier honey" he said while pushing his fingers deeper inside you, your walls fluttering at the praise.

"so strong for me, my sweet angel" seonghwa cooed as his movements in and out of you quickened their pace, your eyes rolled back at this.

"you're so amazing, my perfect baby. my perfect y/n" your boyfriend swiped his thumb over your bud again, coaxing your release faster.

already tired from before and getting more drunk on seonghwa's praises by the second, you couldn't do anything besides whimper and arch your back against your boyfriend, nails grasping his knees as both of you chased your climax.

"show me how good you are" seonghwa purred.

"come around my fingers pretty girl"

and with that, you let out a soft cry as your orgasm washed over your body. whimpering a string of thank yous to seonghwa while his fingers remained buried inside of you, finally pulling them out after you once again settled back down against his chest.

you were finally sleepy and with your eyes already half-closed, the last thing you remember before passing out was seonghwa licking his fingers clean of your juices, and happily at that. this man always made sure to show you how he thought you were the sweetest creature ever, in more ways than one.

your mind could now only think of your boyfriend as you closed your eyes, letting yourself finally drift off to the sleep he had helped you to reach.

in the mean time, seonghwa smoothed down your dress and ensured to clean away any mess in between your thighs with a warm cloth. and then, he adjusted both of your pillows once more and carefully shifted your head onto your pillow, which was the coldest side up. he quietly laid down on the bed and pulled the covers softly over both of your bodies, making sure no part of your body was peeking out of the blanket.

and then he turned to face you. a soft sigh at how your features had no traces of the previous worries but instead, a faint smile painted the corner of your lips.

seonghwa always wanted to see you happy.

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ears, marvelling at the gorgeous being in front of him. he knew you wouldn't be able to hear anything he spoke of right now but it was important to him that he say this.

"i'll always be right here" he took your pinky in his.

"i promise sweetheart"

and as morning came and the sun replaced the dim city lights, you stirred at the light streaming in from the curtains.

you woke up to your legs tangled with seonghwa's and a slightly stiff pinky. you smiled gently.

he was perfect. your life is perfect with him.

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Hey there could I request G!P professor!nat x shy!quiet!reader where reader goes to the school dance alone and feels like a loser for not having the balls to talk or join in with other people but then nat decides to keep her company because she can’t stand seeing her favorite student all pathetic just standing there like a lost puppy and then they sneak off to do “other” stuff

Favourite

Paring: fem!reader x prof!Nat

Warnings: SMUT, amab!Nat, top!Nat, bottom!reader, age gap (legal), taboo relationship, soft sex, p in v, brief oral, soft!Nat, virgin!reader, gentlewoman!Nat

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

A/N: I’m not dead yet and more active noe

I had always thought in college things would change for girls like me, the quiet ones, with a few friends, who you would only talk to to copy their homework. However it stayed that way or at least for me. I had found my small group of friends but I was far from well socialised in my college. But I wasn’t complaining about it either after all it left more time to study.

Most of the lessons I attended were boring except for one: Russians literature with Professors Romanoff, a tall, athletic woman, with red hair and the greenest eyes you had ever seen. You didn’t mind her talking for hours about poems and novels and what we were supposed to think of them. However you couldn’t care less about the words leaving her mouth when you’re eyes were only fixated on her lips.

Eventually more of the semester passed and soon it was time for the annual ball. Because of your low social status you didn’t even try to find a date opting on going alone instead, it wouldn’t be that bad right?

Once there you where alone, the few friends which you had didn’t bother to attend so you stood alone at the side of the large room your eyes fixated on the ground. You should just go, you thought to yourself. “Good evening, Y/N” you heard the familiar husky voice next to you. You looked up only to be greeted by your smirking professor. She looked gorgeous having picked out a matching suit to her eyes.

“Hi, Ms. Romanoff” she leaned against the wall next to me her eyes darting over my smaller body. “Where’s your date?” “I don’t have one” I answered truthfully, her expression stayed the same it was hard to read her. “And you’re friends?” I sighed she knew the answer to that already. “They didn’t attend.” She chuckled licking her lips like a predator who just found it’s helpless prey. “Poor girl, all alone and needs her professor to keep her company”

I let out a small laugh which sounded incredibly fake. Her words made my cheeks heat and I didn’t even know why. “Could be worse” I looked up in her eyes again “You’re a very pleasant conversation partner” “Am I?” She chuckled “That means a lot to me, hearing my favorite student say something like that” “I’m your favorite?” you stammered out “Trust me bunny a girl like you” Her hand trailed to my hip “You hardly get something like that every ten years. I’m very happy to have you”

Her words made my heart flutter and my head turn. I was special, Romanoff’s girl. “Do you mean that?” My voice was still a bit shaky. “Of course I do. We should go somewhere more private” I nodded her hand intertwined with mine she pulled me with her through the masses into the parking lot. Once seated in her expensive looking her hand never left my thigh before she started the car she leaned over to me our lips inches apart I tried to lean forward but her hands pushed my shoulder back against the car seat.

“Don’t do this to make me happy” She paused her eyes looking sensire “It won’t affect your grade no matter how you decide.” “I want this”

I breathed out our lips immediately finding each other. The kiss was passionate and heated until Nat pulled away to fasten my seat belt.

“I’ll drive to my apartment” She put her own seatbelt on “Is that okay with you or do you want to go to your dorm” “I’d like to join your tonight” Natasha gave you a cheeky grin at the response her plan had worked out perfectly.

Arriving at her apartment she seated you on her leather couch. She paced around her living room having two wine glasses in hand. “Do you want a glass?” I laughed I was extremely nervous but in a good way “Oh, I don’t drink but I’ll have a water instead” She just nodded accepting my preferences.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve met” She laughed slipping away from her wine glass. “And I’m not just saying that because of the wine.” She added she was sat next to her hand on your thigh. She had long forgotten about her crumpled up suit jacket on the ground though she normally was so precise about keeping everything organized.

“You don’t look bad either” You laughed she pulled you on her lap forcing you to but your legs on either side her crotch on yours. “Let me kiss you” she mumbled against you wet lips. You lips were pressed together so where your bodies and you could feel a bulge poking you. “Fuck you make me so hard” she breathed out on your lips making you moan out in response.

We were caught in the dance of our tongues when I felt her standing up her arms under my ass supporting my weight. I giggle and tighten my grip around her. “Let me take you to the bedroom”

She laid me out on the bed being careful with every item removed and making sure I was comfortable. She kissed everything inch of my skin paying extra attention to my sweet spots and I never felt so loved before. “Have you done that before” She breathed put against my skin.

“Never” I answer truthfully and suddenly I felt a dang of jealousy in my chest. “Is that- a problem?” My professor moved up again before kissing me “Of course not” She looked me in the eyes with her green eyes. “Will you let me be your first” She was being incredibly cheesy but Iiked that. It made me feel safe. “Yes”

She took one of my nipples in her mouth twisting and turning the other with her trained fingertips. She made me putty in her hands with each lick or flick she brought a new sound from my tongue.

My back arched which only made her increase the speed of her movements. After she seemed it to be enough foreplay she kissed her way down to my pubic bone, pressing her nose against my skin to take in the smell of my sweet arrausel. “Can I bunny?” She smirked and kissed your clit I was already wet but Nat was dying for a taste. She flicked her tongue over my now exposed bud. The pleasure was incredible better than any other toy I ever had and you tried to not lose my mind as she teased you bundle of nerves.

She pulled away shortly after ripping away my release in front of my eyes. I looked at her confused as she was already freeing herself from her boxer. She didn’t have a size to be ashamed of and her bush was well groomed too, like you would’ve suspected. She pumped herself a few times groaning until she was fully hard a little droplet of cum on the redden tip.

“Wait I’ll put a condom on” She reached for the drawer but you stopped her “I’m on the pill” Her lips formed a smirk as she positioned herself between my legs. “It’s not gonna hurt sweetheart” She reassured you kissing my neck.

She pushed inside and I making me scratch down her toned back making her whimper. Fuck her whimpers where hot. She bottomed me out looking down at where our bodies were connected she smiled up at you and you smiled back and after I nodded to her she picked up pace.

She was slow at first making me want more you could tell she being careful with you. “Faster” I moaned out making you hips buckle into her trusts. She moaned like a pornstar panting above me as she increased her speed the bed creaking. She made my back arch and my eyes squeezed shut as I released my quiet prayers for her.

“You close?” She panted and I nod “Fuck, your so tight” I grabbed on her shoulders scratching down as I came all over her shortly after she filled me up too. She pulled out the cum leaking down my legs. She climbed up my body flipping us over so I lay on her chest.

“You’re my favourite” She whispered and kissed my sweaty forehead

:)

[peppermint-whiskers]

Introducing:

An au by myself and @emositecc (all artwork here done by her, btw! 💖💖)

Premise: Because snake forms aren't common in Heaven, Pentious has to change forms per Sera’s orders in order to not make waves. At the same time, she places a spell on him that prevents him from speaking about who he was before and his time in Hell. Using the nickname Pen, he's sent down to Hell every once in a while to help them with redemption, acting as the representative. While there, he has a lot of trouble reconnecting because of the spell and because of the weird deja vu the others get whenever he's around. It also doesn't help that they're still mourning Pentious—he can't tell them that he's okay and that redemption works.

He does succeed in reconnecting with them, but only as “Pen.”

It'll be done in 3 acts:

Act 1: Reconnection

Sir Pentious, under the alias Pen, is sent to Hell every once in a while to help them with redemption. There, he struggles to reconnect with his friends, who are still mourning his supposed "death."

Act 2: Mind Wipe

After a disasterous event caused by Alastor, Pentious begs Sera to wipe his memories of his life before as it's the only way he can think of to ease the pain. This works for only a while, and the confusion between his two forms makes him restless. Emily smuggles him back to Hell to help him regain his memories.

Act 3: Consequences

After resolving the mind wipe, Sera realizes the error of her actions and tries in earnest to help Charlie's hotel with redemption. However, the reveal of the mind wipe and redemption causes waves in both Heaven and Hell.

Some artwork and snippets (written by me) under the cut!

No spoilers yet, obviously uwu

Snippet 1:

“The envoy is supposed to come today!” Charlie exclaimed, positively bouncing around the hotel lobby. “I'm sooooo excited! What do you think they'll be like??”

“Sexy,” Angel immediately said with his usual teasing tone.

“Respectful,” Vaggie sighed. After failed extermination, they've had countless meetings with Heaven, and the head seraphim has been . . . less than helpful. As much as she hated to admit it, dealing with Emily was much preferred to dealing with Sera.

“I just hope you know what you're doing,” Husk chimed in. “Inviting an angel to stay longterm here could be dangerous.”

“It’ll be fine,” Charlie assured them. “We'll keep them safe, and they'll help us with redemption! It's a win-win!”

A circular portal opened up just outside the hotel. Squealing with joy, Charlie rushed outside to meet their newest friend and staff member. Out stepped a tall gentleman with dark skin, white hair, and a pale blue suit. His eyes seemed to look over the hotel with nostalgia—Charlie would bet anything that in life, he was a hotel manager himself. That would be just perfect! She could use a little more help than Alastor deigned to provide.

Snippet 2

Their new guest wasn't doing so well. Somehow, through fake coughs and weak insistence, Pen managed to convince Charlie that he didn't need to come out of his room, thank you very much. Charlie wasn't dumb, of course, and her sympathetic nature was just one of the many reasons Vaggie loved her. Instead of pressing the issue, she let Pen stay in his room for the day and let him continue claiming he was sick.

He may have convinced the others, but Charlie and Vaggie both knew better. Angels couldn't get sick, but this was one hell of a bout of homesickness.

Charlie herself brought meals up to his room and coaxed him to eat, and Vaggie went when she was busy, but he never once opened the door. After two days of this, Vaggie finally took it upon herself to see him herself and get to the bottom of this. Breakfast in hand, she headed up the stairs and prepared herself for a battle of wills of which she was sure she would win.

[feyascorner]

wish you would look at me

summary. convinced that you’re in love with another, when you approach him with a serious expression, he readies himself for the inevitable—rejection. but is it ever that simple?

pairing. astarion x GN!reader

warnings. light angst, fluff

a/n. this is inspired by the ppl who have love triangles w gale and astarion in act 2 and what he says if you pick him bec when I saw that I almost cried pls let him be happy

If you asked him a few weeks ago, he’d laugh at the mere suggestion that he could ever be jealous of someone like Gale. That blasted wizard couldn't go four steps before begging for a magical shoe or pathetically limping his way behind the rest of the group while you frantically searched for the said shoe. And when he found out the wizard was a few errors away from exploding, somehow Astarion felt even more pity (not really) for the lad.

Yet here he was.

He’s not sure when the hell you and Gale had gotten so chummy, but it rubbed him the wrong way. Even if his expression would never show it. He sips at his wine while Karlach and Wyll continue to chat about God knows what, too busy peering from the corner of his eyes as you lean into Gale’s shoulders to look closer at the book he was holding.

Perhaps the tadpole had finally made you lose your mind. He'd almost dropped his goblet when you denied his invitation to his tent tonight, spouting the excuse that you'd asked Gale to help you with something, and now this?

God knows why you ever found the wizard charming. If Gale could do something, he could too—much better, in fact. He was sure of it.

His grip tightens around the goblet when he hears you laugh.

Sure, his original intentions for approaching you had been less than noble…and he might have seduced you for more selfish reasons than you originally knew, but as much as he hated himself for it, he'd grown rather fond of you. In his own way, of course.

He’d only realized that the anxious squirming in his stomach was not of fear but of affection when you'd defended him from that vile drow at Moonrise Towers. He'd half expected you to ask him to throw himself at her, yet you stood your ground, showing nothing but respect to his own boundaries while you failed to realize that he'd deceived your own.

He truly had no reason to feel this way. He was selfish, he knew, for feeling so possessive because not once had the two of you established being exclusive. Though you'd respected him, you saw him for just that. A friend to respect, and nothing more. Sure, you'd spent a few nights together, but it was a mindless night of passion and he knew he'd continue to be your fling until you found another to truly love. He had just hoped it wouldn't be someone like Gale, of all people…or Wyll…or Shadowheart…or anyone for that matter.

He shakes his head. The wine must be getting to him. Serious relationships aren't a luxury he can afford, he reminds himself, relaxing his shoulders. He’s perfectly okay with being your ally—nothing more or nothing less. Ecstatic, even.

But when Gale flips a page of the book and both of you lean closer again—this time dangerously close—he feels a sharp pain shoot up his hand.

“Uh, Fangs, you alright there?” Karlach stares at the cracked glass in his hand and even he blinks at it in disbelief.

Apparently not.

He sighs irritably, dumping the glass elsewhere. “I’m quite alright. Seems I just need a nice comfortable mattress than a thin bedroll on the ground, but it’ll do for now.”

“Need help patching that up? You're bleeding.”

He almost laughs, if it weren't for the giggle coming from your direction. “Blood’s my specialty, darling, remember?” Without another word, he paces into his tent, closing the flap behind him for the universe signal that screams ‘don’t bother me.’

So when half an hour later, when he no longer hears the crackle of the campfire, he sees your shadow emerge from the other side of his tent flap, he squints.

“Can I come in?” He fails to respond, and hears you shuffle. “Ah, are you asleep?”

At this, he can't help but snort. You instinctively peek inside, and he runs a hand through his hair, sighing in defeat. “If I'd been asleep just how would I answer that question?”

He motions you closer and you take it as a sign to step inside, careful to avoid stepping on any of his belongings before situating yourself in front of him. “It was rhetorical, obviously!”

“Of course,” he doesn't seem convinced, lips curling into a teasing grin. “Now tell me, what brings you to my palace this late at night? Surely not for a cuddle. I'd thought you declined my offer earlier?”

Usually, you'd smile, but instead you only look down at your clasped hands, seemingly in thought. “I needed to talk to you—without everyone else watching.”

The usual brightness to your tone is missing.

Oh, he thinks. You've come to end things with him.

“Ah,” is all he says. He can tell his smile hasn't dropped, but it doesn't feel that way. “I hear you've found a new lover. Perhaps you want to keep yourself for this one, true love? How romantic, darling.”

You frown at this, and he wonders if he’s done something wrong. But it does little to stop his defense mechanisms from springing into action, because he’s immediately slipping into his usual mask, grin stretching wider but never reaching his eyes.

He hates the words coming out of his own mouth as if they taste of poison. Still, his voice is steady, almost teasing. Perks of the 200 years spent shamelessly lying, he supposes. “So, is this the end of our late night trysts? Even though they were an awful lot of fun?”

He doesn’t think he could stand watching you with that damned wizard. He doesn't even want to think about it quite frankly, because all he feels is his chest tighten when he imagines someone else holding you the way he does. And gods, if had to watch Gale’s poor attempt at flirting one more time…

But then again, you'd be with someone who doesn't manipulate you. Someone who doesn't toy with your feelings, or someone who doesn't seduce you for protection.

His smile twitches, and he just braces himself for your response.

“I’d rather be with you.”

He stares at you, eyes wider than its ever been since he'd gotten this damn worm in his brain.

“What? Why?” he blurts, embarrassingly so, before he composes himself again and clears his throat. “I mean, well, I know why—but I thought you'd had something more…with Gale.”

As much as he despises the idea, he'd seen the way you'd laughed with him. And while it was a new experience for him to be fond of another person, he'd found that these feelings had led him to rather you be happy than dragging you down with him. If it meant you wouldn't regret your choice, he’d been willing to deal with it.

So why?

“I want something real with you, Astarion,” you say softly, eyes meeting his. “I don't know if you feel the same way, but Gale and I are better off as friends, and I told him before I came here. And besides, it’d be cruel of me to lead him on while my heart is with another.”

He thinks he might have died again just now. For the first time in decades, he’s actually at a loss for words. “I—if that's what you truly want—we can try. Be lovers, I mean.”

You finally smile at his words, and Gods above if that doesn't lift the excruciating weight of the past few weeks off his shoulders. He feels the warmth of your lips when you lean forward to give him a peck on the cheek, everything happening so fast that his mind is spinning. He snaps back into focus when you pull back.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

You could have—should have, done it earlier. With a smile of his own, he leads you back to him, this time planting a soft kiss on your lips. It’s short, and not nearly enough, but it’ll do for tonight.

“Well then, consider yourself wholeheartedly taken then, my dear.”

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Double Date (part 6.5)

Better late then never here's the mentioned double date between Harley and Ivey, and Hyena and Hood. It's unedited so please point out any errors you find.

Previous | Masterpost | Next

They really should have expected this when Harley had mentioned Jason and Danny joining her and Pam for a double date. Of course Harley would forget to actually plan, and would just show up, dressed to the nines with Pam on her arm yelling about an event at Penguin's club.

"Come on! we're going to be late for karaoke!" Harley yelled before she processed that Hood had ducked to hide his face and Hyena had a gun trained on them, his mouth stretched too wide in a snarl. "Oh, oops," She said sheepishly as Pam sighed and shook her head.

"Harley, did you forget to tell them we were coming?" Pam questioned with fond exasperation.

"No she did not," Jason said, returning with his helmet on and offering Danny his muzzle. Danny shrugged and took it though he didn't put it on right away. "She mentioned a double date when she brought Danny the flowers but we hadn't heard anything since."

"Oh shoot I'm sorry guys! I got so excited I guess I made the plan in my head! I could have sworn I'd asked," Harley apologized, pouting at the two of them. "Can we still go out though? I really want to do the Karaoke night, I was really looking forward to going with both of you."

Jason glanced at Danny, who glanced back at him, first uncertainly, then when Jason shrugged indicating he didn't mind, with puppydog eyes. Danny wanted to go. Jason sighed. "Fine, get out and give us 20 minutes to get ready and then we can go."

Harley cheered and Danny grinned, scrambling off to their bedroom to grab their clothes. Danny decided on a pair of leather pants and a shirt just sheer enough that his scars weren't obvious, and a more casual cloth facemask with a pattern of bared fangs. It covered his mouth and nose but he could slip a straw under it to have a drink, and it wouldn't muffle his voice too much when they sang.

Jason chose black pants, a red shirt, a brown leather jacket with plenty of concealed weapons, and a wide domino mask. He also took a minute to colour the white streak in his hair black so he'd be less distinctive, insisting Danny did the same, once he'd finished his eyeliner. Danny groaned about it but did it anyway.

"Okay, we're ready to go?" Jason asked, checking Danny out. He sure as hell looked ready for a night out on the town, he looked so fucking good with eyeliner, and those tight black black leather pants... No, Jason couldn't focus on that!

Danny, who smiled with his eyes and nodded eagerly, grabbing Jason's hand and dragging him towards the door. "We're ready to go!" He cheered as soon as he spotted Harley, who immediately cheered as well and lunged forward to hug Danny tightly as he laughed.

"Good now let's go! We're already late!" Harley babbled, dragging Danny towards the door as Pam and Jason followed at a more languid pace.

"And who's fault is that Harls?" Pam chided gently. "You need to learn how to communicate plans like this with people."

"I know, but I really thought I had," Harley said with a pout as she continued to drag Hyena out of the building and into a car they all piled into, Jason insisted on driving Eben though it wasn't his car because he couldn't imagine Harley was a good driver. Pam laughed and said she wasn't while Harley pouted, Jason drove.

They arrived at the iceberg lounge with no trouble. IDs weren't needed to enter, just being recognized as one of Gotham's rogues and since right now Hood and Hyena were practically royalty they were welcomed with open arms. Penguin even got them a last minute table and comped their first bottle, he knew it would pay to stay on the good side of Gotham's new power couple after all. Harley chugged her first glass of bubbly and took off to put her name down for the song she wanted.

"She's not a half bad singer," Pam assured them as she sipped her own glass of champagne more slowly. "Are either of you going to sing?"

Jason glanced over at Danny, who seemed to be hesitating, looking uncertain. Jason shifted closer and wrapped an arm around his boyfriend's waist. "Do it if you want to, I'll go up with you," he encouraged and Danny relaxed a bit.

Danny turned a little to whisper into Jason's ear. "I don't really sing, I'm good at it but since I'm a banshee my voice can be powerful. I've always been worried that singing will have, I don't know, do something?" He said like a question.

"Has it ever done anything?" Jason asked and Danny hesitated before shaking his head.

"No, not unless I scream," Danny admitted reluctantly.

"Alright, then we'll give it a try," Jason assured, kissing the side of Danny’s head before taking a sip of his drink.

Danny nodded and grabbed a straw, slipping it into the drink so he could sip it. Pam topped up their drinks when they were half empty.

"So what song do you think you want to do? Harley'll probably drag me up to do a duet. I always say I won't but she gets me with those puppy-dog eyes," she chuckled fondly, clearly not actually upset about that.

"Oh I know the feeling," Jason agreed, shaking his head.

"I have excellent puppydog eyes," Danny chirped, snuggling closer. Jason rolled his eyes behind his mask.

"I bet he does," Pam laughed softly, amused by the two of them.

"What song should we do? Do you think they have Come With Me Now? We've sung that one together before? Or Vicious, No no! We should do Zombie Love!" Danny suggested sounding excited, though that might just be two glasses of champagne in a body unused to managing alcohol. As long as Danny’s ghostly abilities didn't clear toxins as quickly as physical injuries.

"They can find whatever you want," Pam promised with a snicker. "Pangoo wants to be on both your good sides really bad."

Jason snorted, leaning back against the booth with a crooked and cocky grin. "He knows what my rules are, everyone does, follow them and we'll be fine," he said with a careless little wave.

"Oh don't tell him that!" Harley said, popping out of nowhere and making Jason and Danny jump. "It's so fun watching him scramble," she snickered, flopping down next to Pam, wrapping her arms around Pam's neck. "Come sing with meee," she pleaded as Pam poured her another drink.

"Harley you promised you wouldn't make me this time," Pam chided her without any heat. She didn't actually mind it seemed.

"We'll go first and you can talk her into it," Danny cackled, grabbing Jason's hand and dragging him up and over to the sign-in desk.

They signed up to do Zombie Love because they both thought it was funny. It wasn’t a traditional duet or anything but they could sing it together, that seemed to make Danny feel better too. His voice was beautiful, and he kept his distance from the mic so it wouldn't be too loud because he had very powerful lungs. He seemed more interested in practically grinding on Jason anyway, who was just trying very hard not to blush and potentially taint his fearsome reputation by blushing at his boyfriend's antics.

Harley was whooping and wolf whistling at them excitedly before the song ended and Danny dragged Jason back off the stage laughing breathlessly. He seemed thrilled as he pressed himself against Jason purring under the cover of the music and nuzzling against his neck.

"Hyena we're in public," Jason half joked with his hands gripping Danny's hips too tightly.

"No one's going to say anything, they're scared of us," Danny murmured into Jason's ear making him shiver.

"Hey lovebirds! We supported you while you sang!" Harley accused them, bouncing over to practically pry the two of them apart.

Danny let go while laughing, smiling at Harley with his eyes. "So did you two decide what you're going to sing?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows.

"Ya! We're going to do Promiscuous Girl," Harley yipped, Ivy just smiling at her indulgently.

"Then of course we'll cheer you on! But then we're going to dance!" Danny insisted with a wicked glint in his eye that nearly had Jason swooning. Oh he was absolutely going to be pent up and suffering by the end of the night. They should do things like this more often.

Harley and Ivy's duet was pretty good, Pam kept Harley from going too off key and they were clearly having fun. Jason decided to be more stoic about his support, nodding his head to the beat and letting Danny howl and whistle for the both of them. They both clapped when they finished and Harley bounced off the stage again with Pam close in tow.

Danny grabbed Jason and dragged him to the dance floor, and Jason wondered how he could be so graceful and confident in a fight and so fucking lost on the dance floor. He was too aware of his body, and the eyes that were on him and didn't fully know how to behave. Thankfully Danny made sure that didn't last long as he dragged Jason into dancing with him. Jason was content to be essentially a prop and watch as Danny moved with more sensual grace than he had any right to be, flowing with the music in a way that was almost hypnotic.

Jason only became aware that other people thought so too when Harley cut in demanding to dance with Danny as well! Jason chuckled and relinquished Danny to her, going to sit back at their table with Pam. Only then did he notice all the people staring at Danny, the little ring of watchers they'd acquired.

"Is he part siren or something?" Ivy teased him as Jason drank a glass of.. something probably too quickly.

"Something like that," Jason agreed vaguely. "Why are the Gotham City Sirens recruiting?"

"No, but the Birds of Prey might be," Ivy said, smirking at him.

"Hey, no planning to steal my boyfriend," Hood joked, his eyes drawn back to Danny and Harley dancing together. It was... something, they were both completely unaware of the eyes on them, confident and at home in their bodies and sexuality. It was quite the show, and Jason was just glad he was the one Danny would be coming home with.

"Can we borrow him at least?" She asked playfully.

"Weelll I suppose if he agrees to it I can't be too mad," Jason relented, hesitation only for show. They would be good friends to Hyena he was sure.

"Good, now let's just enjoy the night, and how fucking sexy our partners are." Pam said, raising her glass to Jason in a toast, which he returned, clinking his glass against hers.

[plutoispurplw]

Fresh Out The Slammer

Summary: You're going to see Spencer after he spent three months on the prision.

Couple: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Little angst, mention of prision and murder.

A/N: Hi everyone, guess who is back to write like is running out of time! Someone has to take TTPD away from me, now this is an addiction.

Sorry if this doesn't have to much to do wuth the song and remember, english is not my first language, so please tell me if I have an error.

Plss reblog it and request are open!

Masterlistᝰ.ᐟ

When Spencer was being held in custody in Mexico, you were anxious, you visited him and he was completely different from who you were accustomed to.

It was like he wasn’t mentally there, he looked like a mess and his mental stability was almost inexistent, you almost broke down when you saw him in that state.

After that visit, he didn’t let you go again to see him, he didn’t want you to see him in that state and was worried about your mental health even if he was worse in that matter.

You felt hurt at that moment but you decided to understand him and didn’t visit him again but you sent him letters, the first few letters he didn't respond to you, after some time he started to respond to your letters.

You have been feeling down all the time, being in your apartment made you feel miserable knowing he wasn't there, it felt lifeless there without his presence.

Your bed that once was your favorite place in the world became the worst place to be without his arms around you holding you and protecting you from all the things that happen out there.

You were cleaning the apartment when your phone started to ring, you took it to check who it was and when you saw his name you let out a scream. You quickly answer the call.

“Spencer, are you okay?” You said immediately when the call started, your voice was full of worry for him.

“Yes, I’m already out and I’m alright, don’t worry angel.” His voice sounded reassuring, even if he wasn’t alright he wouldn’t have told you but something inside you told you to believe him.

That calmed you instantly, knowing he was alright made your mind at peace, and the overthinking in your mind stopped even if it was for a moment.

“I’m going to be there in a couple of hours.” His voice sounded tired, knowing him you know that he hadn’t slept more than two hours or less in those three months

Now you were waiting for him in your apartment, sitting on your couch trying to read a book, but that task seemed impossible right now, your mind was only focused on the clock in the living room, checking it every few minutes.

It felt like the minutes were slowly becoming eternal, your heart was beating like it was going to get out of your chest, and your mind was running through a million thoughts at the same time.

Then you heard the door opening and you ran towards the entrance just like a little kid, when you saw him you just hugged him while tears began to spill from you’re eyes.

“I missed you so much.” You whispered against his neck, your voice breaking with every word you spoke. His hands were rubbing your back in a calming notion.

When you pulled back enough to see his face, you noticed that his face had tears spilling from his beautiful eyes, you removed them with your thumbs while you held his face in your hands.

“You don’t have any idea of how much I thought about you, All those nights, you kept me going. I read every letter you sent.” He pulled you towards him for a kiss. When his lips touched yours it was like being in heaven again.

You pulled away a little and put your head on his chest “I’m sorry that you had to go through all of that.” Your voice was weak and filled with sadness thinking about all the things that he had suffered, you looked to another side.

He pulled away a little and took you by the chin to make you see him, he started to speak again. “Even if I go through all of that, knowing that you were here is enough compensation for all the things that I had suffered in my life.”

You kissed again but with time it was more slowly and gently, the kiss was filled with the love that the two of you had for each other. You were sure that the love would never end between you two.

He was the one who you want to spend the rest of your life with him.

[coqhee]

A DATE FOR YOU! ♡ ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE

♡ what type of dates enhypen hyung line would take you on!﹕read maknae line here!

 p. bf! enha hyung line x gn!reader︲fluff, romance︲pet names, grammar errors.︲1000 

back to shelf

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 would take you on very romantic dates in which he would always be touchy with you. whether that’s having his hand resting on your waist, or hand in hand, he wants to be near you at all times. he wouldn’t really care where the date is, but so long as he can be near you. i can picture him taking you to an aquarium to see all sorts of aquatic life.

“hee! look at the cute shark swimming our way!” you exclaimed with delight, amazed at how smoothly the shark seemed to glide through the water with ease. 

heeseung watched as your eyes filled with joy just simply watching animals go about their life. he hummed with content seeing you light up at the marine life surrounding you. 

he could honestly care less about the shark, all he could focus on was your hand in his giving him a tight squeeze of affection.

“doll, you think that shark is cuter than me?” he asked jokingly to see your expression. you turned to him giggling at the silly question your boyfriend had just asked. 

“it might be, id have to do some very long thinking,” you teased to your boyfriend. he made a facial expression of pretend hurt before putting on his famous smirk.

before you could turn back to admire the shark, he gently held your chin in his hand and pulled you in for a warm and alluring kiss. his lips felt soft and familiar against yours. his other hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. just as you wanted more, he pulled away.

“bet the shark can’t do that huh,” he quipped holding that same smirk back at you, leaving you a flustered mess as you felt a shade of rose rise to your cheeks. this man never failed to give you an insane amount of butterflies.

“i suppose you’re cuter,” you give in, as a smile of pride appears onto his face. 

other members under the cut!

─── ♡ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 would definitely take you on more classy dates. hes a sucker for a nice candlelit dinner with the love of his life. not being too big of a fan of public affection i can see that he would love to spoil you with expensive gifts so taking you shopping right after dinner wouldnt surprise me in the slightest. 

“thank you for the dinner jay, i can pay you back once i get my next paycheck,” you thanked graciously. truth be told, your next paycheck (or two) for that matter would not be able to cover the cost of your dinner alone, but hey you can always wish.

this was jays doing of course, he loved to take you out to dine at fancy restaurants, this place being no exception.

“dont even worry about it baby. you know i love spoiling you anytime i get the chance. let me be your wallet,” he responded back with a smile, patting your head. 

he held his hand out offering to take your tote bag to which you declined initially. he insisted on you not needing to carry your bag to which you reluctantly agreed to him carrying as long as he would let you pay for whatever else you bought in the mall. 

however he knew he wouldnt let that happen on his watch anyways.  ─── ♡

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 would love to take you on a fun and exhilarating date. there was never a dull point in your relationship with him, not just that though. he always makes sure to put your enjoyment first, and does small hand squeezes to make sure you’re okay and having fun. taking all of that into account, he would totally take you on a carnival date and try to win you the biggest plushies ever, no matter how many tries it takes.

“aww that cat plush is so adorable!” you exclaimed walking past a carnival game stall. you pointed towards the plush causing jake to look over. 

he thought for a moment and you could see the gears turning in his head.

“well its your lucky day, cause im about to win that for you angel,” he smiled with sincerity. you could tell he was down to empty his wallets if that meant getting you that plush.

he gave you a small kiss on your forehead and watched as you giggled at the feeling. you looked up to see your boyfriend wink before walking over to the stall greeting the worker.

after a short 10 minutes, you watched as he whipped around in excitement, holding the plush in hand up to you. butterflies erupted in your stomach seeing him hold the biggest grin ever as he handed you the plush.

“anything for you baby,”

─── ♡

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 would love to keep you close and is a big fan of physical touch, so any date involving being in close proximity of you is a win in his book. of course he want to take you ice skating. however, not wanting you to slip and fall like you did last time, hed opt for a cute date where you can walk around, such as long walks on beach!

“baby let’s get some cute pictures together with the sunset in the background!” you shouted to your boyfriend, pulling him forward towards the water.

“here, let me hold the phone,” he offered extending the hand that wasn’t on your waist out to your hand. you gladly let him take the phone to take some cute selfies with the beach as well as individual ones.

“one last photo then we can get dinner, okay hoonie?” you reassured with a comfortable smile on your face as you posed for the camera.

“whatever you want baby,” he said smiling, holding the phone out to take the photo for you. he grinned like an idiot just watching you enjoy yourself, although he didn’t mind being a lovesick fool for you.

you ran to him with excitement to see the photos, pleased with the outcome. you soon found yourself tired, the long walk being simply too long.

“getting tired?” sunghoon asked gently pausing down to look at you. you nodded, then looked inwards to continue walking

all of a sudden he swept you off your feet and you found yourself being held bridal style by him. you weren’t complaining though, less walking for you and he seemed more than happy to take the weight off your feet.

he leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your lips and smiled pulling away.

“love you baby”

─── ♡

a/n. id be lying if i said i didn’t want my future bf (heeseung) to take me on these dates 😓😓 maknae line coming soon!

@ coqhee 2024. all rights reserved

[valyrfia]

*insert michael jackson gif*

Let it go with the excuses already, today was on him he couldn't even beat his teammate today how you people expect him to fight max?he will put it in the wall in the last lap, oh wait it already happened, my bad

also max recommended devries lol let's not take those guys words , charles is currently fighting fraud allegations, unless his 2019 or 2022 start is coming it's only going downhill

Okay, fine, I'll bite. Let's compare Charles's and Carlos's perfomances in order to try and determine with as little bias as possible.

In order to constrain our parameters of our investigation to their current abilities as drivers, let's take the our period of investigation to be the whole of the 2023 season, plus the first three races of the 2024 season. We'll exclude the following races for Carlos due to circumstances beyond his control: Qatar 2023 (fuel leak leading to DNS), Las Vegas 2023 (10 place grid penalty due to track not being properly maintained), Jeddah 2024 (appendicitis). Likewise, we'll exclude the following races for Charles due to circumstances beyond his control: Bahrain 2023 (DNF due to technical issues), Jeddah 2023 (10 place grid penalty due to exceeding allowed quota), COTA 2023 (DSQ), Brazil (DNS due to faulty hydraulics).

There are cases to be made for other races for both of them, but these are races where they were either involved in a collision leading to a DNF or where grid penalties apply, so there's argument for driver error there. With regard to grid penalties, we're going to go by the final decisions made by the stewards regardless of whether the penalties were appealed or not. Races where they suffered technical issues in race but they still finished are not counted, as it shows a driver's ability to handle an unpredictable car.

Before we discount the races listed above entirely, let's have a look at where the driver who didn't have difficulties finished.

So we're discarding pretty much the same number of points between them, so I feel happy discarding the following 7 races entirely from this analysis: Bahrain 2023, Jeddah 2023, Qatar 2023, COTA 2023, Brazil 2023, Las Vegas 2024, Jeddah 2024. Furthermore, in Las Vegas, Carlos finished 6th and in Jeddah, Charles finished 7th. This brings their points total across the discarded races to 46 for Carlos, 45 for Charles. However, Charles managed to score those points over fewer points-scoring races, and with a higher average finishing position, so for the sake of not convoluting ourselves we'll call it even and commit to just examining the points and stats of the remaining races not excluded from our investigation. The table below shows those stats. For simplification, sprints are not considered.

So I think there are a few key things we want to consider: overall performance, reasons for retirements and driver reliability over our chosen time period. So we'll go one by one for each and examine in a little more depth.

For overall performance, it's easiest to see in a quick head to head. Carlos wins in race wins, Charles wins in poles, they tie in number of retirements (although Carlos was classified in ABU23 due to finishing 90% of the race distance), Charles wins in higher average finishing position, Charles wins in higher points total.

Next, we move on to reasons for retirement. Charles retired twice, once upon collision with Lance in Australia 23, and once in Zandvoort due to a damaged floor. Carlos retired once in Belgium 23 due to a collision with Oscar Piastri and once in Abu Dhabi 23 due to being lapped and running last without pitting.

For driver reliability, I want to consider the variance in Charles and Carlos's race finishes for reliability. A quick recap for the non-STEM people who may be reading this: the variance measures the spread of numbers in a dataset, and how far away they are from the dataset's mean. Thus, a smaller variance indicates less spread in positions that a driver has finished in, in turn indicating higher reliability. Charles has a variance of 6.46, Carlos has a variance of 8.25. It is therefore possible to conclude that Charles is the more reliable driver of the two. While on the subject of reliability, it is also worth noting that Charles has not dropped outside the top 5 since Monza last year.

So overall, anon, I'm afraid I have to reject your notion that Charles is washed or even approaching becoming washed. The data show otherwise. The only category where Carlos is superior to Charles in our time frame is race wins, race wins where Charles deliberately adhered to Ferrari strategy in order to help Carlos, and Max Verstappen was out of commission for the win for one reason or another. Carlos wins in luck, but for driver reliability, points scored, finishing position, Charles is the clear winner and the numbers show it.

[cinaerii]

LOVEFOOL, a series — nsh. riki x fem!reader

— gamenight date!

✧ syn : in which, you date the most nonchalant boy in your school, yet he’s the opposite with you.

✧ cws & notes : non-idol au! established rls. with riki, typos, grammatical errors, kisses | my humor is not that funny

today was a club day, meaning there is no one running, distinct chatters from students, pulling pranks on one another in the hallway. it was quiet and empty.

everyone is expected to be in their respective club venues, working on projects or practicing for an upcoming competition.

though by the time the bell rang, giving a few seconds to spare before each door of the classrooms burst open with students having their backpacks slung on their shoulder, running out.

it felt like rush hour in the hallways. it was quite the struggle for some people to wait for their friends outside of their venue due to the pushing crowd in front of them.

at least you and your friends avoided the crowd of students, blocking the way.

“guess who was leading our dance practice today..” your friend spoke in a disappointed tone, both of her hands covering her face.

you eagerly shift your attention right away. “the most nonchalant guy i’ve ever met! i was dying of boredom just from his voice.” your friend started to ramble.

“riki?” you mention casually, tucking your hands inside the two empty pockets on your cardigan.

“you sound like you know him, do you?” she asked, a glint of curiosity behind her eyes.

“he’s just a classmate.” well you had to lie for yours and riki’s sake since the two of you decided to keep this relationship private to everyone.

speaking of your boyfriend, you have a scheduled indoor date at his apartment.

###

less than ten steps away from you was riki’s door to his apartment. you knocked once and was about to tap the grayish steel door until someone pulled you inside.

you were greeted with your very tall boyfriend giving you a warm embrace by wrapping his arms around your figure.

your face was buried in his plain and knitted sweater vest yet somewhat cozy. “i bought new games for our nintendo switch.” he tilted his head down to look at you, his eyes glimmering with excitement.

when you were still getting to know riki, he’d always pull out his switch out of the blue and play games freely.

however, by the time you started dating him, he constantly referred his switch as yours and his to share and have date nights at his apartment space.

“comfy?” riki whispered, his hot breath fanning over the side of your neck as he snuggled closer to you.

“mhm, let’s play!” you exclaimed, pressing one of the buttons on your controller to start. “aren’t you forgetting something?” riki spoke quietly.

“after this round, okay? my lips are too cold right now, i’ll warm them up first.” even if the heater was on, it was still freezing cold so you slump under the blankets more.

hearing no response from riki, you took that a yes from him and adjusted the game settings on the screen.

“how many minut—“ you were about to ask him but you were cut off by two pecks on the lips. both of them were so quick for you to process it in your head.

he then blew the top of your lips to hide the huge grin on his face in which he failed to supress his small giggles coming from his lips.

“is it warm enough yet?” riki teased.

“i have a good feeling that i’ll win this race tonight. thank you very much for giving your luck to me.” you returned with a smile on your face, indicating a bit of sarcasm.

“nevermind, take back my kiss right now.” he leaned closer, a push from the back would be enough to close the gap between the two.

“nuh-uh! this is a priced fortune coming from you.” your hands went in the middle of both of your faces, protecting your lips from his.

from supposedly having a game night to having an intense tickle fight.

— end. thank you for reading!

written by; @cinaerri ⋆ do not steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[cno-inbminor]

repertum (pt. 2 - final)

summary: no matter how much you want alhaitham, you don’t think you can ever have him. he may or may not try to prove otherwise. // cameos from lumine and nahida // wc: ~15.1k

a/n: well, here it is! many, many thanks to @allsaiint for being my beta once again, especially for this monster. i love her to the ends of this universe. fair warning though, the smut at the end is un-beta’d so you’ll probably come across many grammatical/syntax errors. sorry, in advance. 

cw: afab!reader, fem!reader, more angst (but with comfort), 3.4 spoilers, probably some incorrect game lore and timing/mechanics, smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

smut tags: derogatory/degrading terms (slut, cocksleeve, cumslut, cockslut), referring to alhaitham as ‘sir’, size kink, twinges of dacryphilia, one (1) pussy slap, some overstimulation, light bondage (reader’s wrists get tied together), blowjob, cunnilingus, hints of reader entering subspace (dom!alhaitham, sub!reader), will add more if i remember later but i think those are the highlights lol

please read part 1 for context! | AO3 Link for better viewing if the app is being a bitch

-    

As agreed upon you meet Lumine and Paimon on the walkway leading up to the Sanctuary. The traveling duo go inside first, as you’re sure they have much more private and serious matters to discuss. While you wait outside, you gaze over the ledge at the breathtaking view of Sumeru in the direction of the Lokapala Jungle, and its waterfalls still bright even in the darkness of dawn. Taking in everything around you— the breeze and the stars— you feel some peace in your heart knowing you have a place to call home and return to.

The doors swing open with Lumine looking a little less happy than earlier. Paimon mutters – or  at least attempts to – under her breath, while a man with a wide-brimmed hat trails out after them. The traveler provides no explanation,and instead informs you that Lord Kusanali wishes to speak with you for a minute. Perhaps the time together will let you know more about this mysterious man – child? – and why he seems to have put Paimon in such a bad mood.

“Y/N,” the Dendro Archon greets you warmly. Her voice is gentle as ever and full of compassion. “Thank you for coming here. I simply wanted to see if you had everything you needed for your travels and research.”

You show her your bag with thinly-veiled enthusiasm. “Thank you for the opportunity and your consideration of my proposal. The fact that you took the time to read through it and ask me about it really means a lot to me. It was luck that the traveler happened to be heading in that direction as well.”

“She will be a good companion. Please watch over her whenever you can.”

“Of course, though I imagine she’s going to watch over me more than her,” you jest and Lord Kusanali shares your amusement. “Is there anything else you needed?”

“No. May you have safe travels, and please visit whenever you return. I look forward to your findings.”

You bow with as much reverence as possible before waving goodbye to the Archon and heading out the doors. The man from earlier is nowhere to be seen, and Lumine appears more relaxed.

“Everything all good?”

“Yes! Should we head out then?”

“Very well.”

Those with Visions have always fascinated you with the way they could make their weapons appear and disappear, and materialize things in midair. Lumine does so with what appears to be a map of Teyvat, humming to herself as she pinpoints a location. She waves it away with dainty fingers and holds out her hand.

Though confused, you trust she means no ill will and Lumine grips your hand tight when you take hers.

“Teleportation is always a little rough for first timers. Just hold on and you’ll be okay.”

“Teleporta–”

You disappear in a flash of blue light. For a split, disorienting second, you see nothing, and in the next you’re greeted with a view of what appears to be part of the Mawtiyima Forest, if the luminescent treetops are any indication. Slight nausea overcomes you and your stomach does a small turn – shit, she wasn’t lying.

“Are you alright?” Lumine asks with concern, searching through her pack for a remedy..

“Do you want a cold towel?” Paimon adds on and flutters around you to search for any signs of injury.

“I think I just need to breathe for a second,” you say, collapsing against the cliffside. “And sit for a minute.”

“Take your time. We’re quite close to the border. I would’ve taken us straight into Fontaine, but since I’ve never been before, none of those teleport waypoints have been activated.”

You point towards one in front of you. “You mean these?”

“Convenient, right?”

“...very.”

-

Distraught, perhaps, is one way to describe Alhaitham’s current state of mind.

By all means, it makes no sense. Did he get to know you well in an alarmingly short amount of time? Sure. Did he really look forward to those initial 36 hours passing, to the point where he felt time was crawling by at a turtle’s pace? Perhaps. Was he trying to satiate a curiosity that he had never really felt before and attempting to answer a personal unknown? In some way.

The attempting-to-resign Acting Grand Sage has read his fair share of historical texts – especially conflicts driven by love and lust. A force so powerful that it could twist the minds of even the brightest and most logical – what was that like? From a young age, he was only ever introspective in an academic sense, and the scholars touted him to be a genius. But feelings, emotions, felt abstract and out of reach as he grew up. He only ever understood his lust as a byproduct of his development as explained in the textbooks. A branch of psychology mixed with biology described everything from why humans feel attraction and the need to copulate to what is deemed healthy and alluring in a potential partner, all in the name of posterity and evolution.

Alhaitham first concluded his initial draw towards you could be explained away by all of these findings.It didn’t quite fit all the checkboxes, but enough for him to deem it understandable and valid. Those checkboxes had been visited once before when he lost his virginity, but that was all there was to it. He wouldn’t be blind enough to deny that it was a pleasurable experience, but there were other, more pressing matters at hand. Yet, even after drawing his conclusion, nothing academic could help explain why his desire to be near you was so strong. The more carnal desires took a backseat to his need to pick your brain, to make you laugh, or to have you challenge him. He learned as many of your little mannerisms as possible, all the while pretending he was completely unfazed by your presence. Your different smiles, your nervous movements, your stressed looks, your interests and dislikes – he wanted to know all of them, and not so he could store it in his brain for cautionary purposes. It was all for the sake of getting to know you.

And then he became greedy.

Another sin Alhaitham didn’t quite understand before meeting you was the growing, bubbling pit of a constant want want want for you to be by his side. To have the fantasies of coveting your soul, retching on the inside at the mere thought of others seeing you the way he did you – he was starting to see why individuals were so often thrown into a fit of rage over their loved ones and why the law has separate stipulations regarding “crimes of passion.”

And even as he sits at his usual table in his usual seat (especially on days when he really doesn’t want to be in his office during work hours), sending glares to anyone who dared to approach him or even come near your seat (which was very much not your seat by any legal means), he finds himself buried in books of philosophy. Not that they are so far out of his usual reading, for they typically align with his understanding that there are universal questions that will never be answered yet should be stated, but he has never felt the need to dive deeper than the tip of the iceberg on different schools of thought. One line in particular catches his attention, however.

“Reason is, and ought only to be the slave of the passions.”**

Moral philosophy, the area where this statement hails from, was intriguing, yet Alhaitham knew the respected experts could talk in circles for days and do their best to argue their reasoning. This particular philosopher suggests that passion is the cause for reason, for understanding why humans do the things they do. And as the word connotation suggests, there is no room to discuss whether or not this line of thought is rational. Just as passion drives reason, reason can also serve as the breeding ground for the passions.

Abstruse to several, esoteric to many, ambiguous to the masses – Alhaitham wonders if he’s found some sort of solution to his internal dilemmas. To have it all summed up in a single sentence resonates deeply with him. Simple and succinct, yet speaking volumes to the implications; finally with a deep breath.

The next day in his office, he leans and falls back into his seat, gaze focused on the domed ceiling above. He’s always hated this chair; far too grand and impractically large. One thing he doesn’t mind is the proportionate size of the desk, as he’s learned over the years that if you give him the space, he will inadvertently cover every inch of it with his materials. Even with their dwindling number of research applications, he manages to fill the voids with his own research, books laid open and aged parchment collecting dust. For being so far above the ground level of the House of Daena, it makes sense that silence is usually his sole companion, as he tends to ignore the other researchers and matra milling around. But there must have been some memo sent out because no one is there today, and no one has come up in hours.

Surprisingly, he finds the quietude and quiescence unnerving rather than welcoming, so much so he removes his treasured earpieces and places them in his lap. The white noise he’s often found bothersome is… comforting?

A distraction, perhaps, from the absence of you.

A long, heavy sigh leaves his chest as he pulls himself up and ambles over to a locked filing cabinet with all the approved research project applications. Before he became Acting Grand Sage, the remaining applications had been split between him, Lord Kusanali, and a few other individuals. First sorted by subject area and then by last name, he rifles through with an absent mind until he catches your name on a tabbed folder. Alhaitham wastes no time plucking it from the confines of the drawer and opening it, taking care to make sure the stacks of reports and research diagrams don’t spill out onto the floor. Kaveh would have a field day if he knew just how enraptured he was by the mere sight of your handwriting. He may even take him to Lord Kusanali herself for psychological treatment or interrogation because there was no way this Alhaitham was his same sarcastic, scathing, infuriating roommate – and despite the slight amusement the thought gives him, he cannot ignore the painful pull in his chest.

It’s been five weeks since you were last seen in Sumeru, and five weeks since he had knocked on your apartment door only to be greeted by your next-door neighbor, who announced you’d left early in the morning with no definitive time of return and no mention of your destination. You would be back eventually, but would it be in six days or six months? Nobody seemed to be the wiser.

He had had half a mind to reach out to Cyno and call in a special favor to track you down for his own internal peace, but he knew the request would be irrational and unnecessary. So once a week, he stops by your apartment to see if you’ve returned, and with each unsuccessful visit and your doormat collecting more and more dust, his heart sinks just a little bit lower. If he wasn’t in his current position, he’d be halfway across the desert by now (and ultimately in the complete opposite direction) under the guise of searching for ancient ruins. Merely searching for facts and truth; nothing more, nothing less.

All to say, Alhaitham wishes he had looked through this filing drawer earlier because the file on his desk contained all the answers to his questions of your whereabouts.

The relief of knowing you were safe in a nearby nation surges through every vein in his body, tension in his muscles disappearing with the rays of sunlight beating down from the stained-glass window above. He would’ve been much more concerned if you’d gone to Inazuma – even if this Captain Beidou that Lumine spoke highly of was more than adept at crossing the treacherous seas from Liyue, the mere possibility of you falling overboard or being forced to stay in the nation was still unsettling, to say the least.

Leaning his weight onto the desk, Alhaitham drinks in everything your research has to offer. There are a few mistakes and edits that could be rectified here and there, but nevertheless, it is well done. He remembers now seeing some of these papers before, as notes you had been scribbling down on some early afternoons in the cafe. Pleased isn’t enough to describe the hum in his chest when he notices some of his suggestions incorporated into your application, fondly recalling the moments when you had picked each other’s brain regarding the topic at hand. Never once did you mention that any of this had been in preparation for your big research journey, but he would be remiss not to believe recent events had served as the catalyst for your sudden departure.

“Do come back to me,” he murmurs to no one. As he lifts his head, the cosmical, automated orb— reminiscent of an Auspicious Branch— just above the elevator platform seems to mock him. It’s An inaccurate teller of time as it spins and spins in its orbit, and Alhaitham yearns for the day you return home.--

The day you return to him.

-

Traveling with Lumine is fascinating, to say the least.

Ignoring the fact that feeding Paimon is like feeding three grown adults, watching the Traveler gather and store every fruit and herb and loot in sight makes you wonder what kind of life she had led before all of this. The way she takes down some wayward Treasure Hoarders is a sight to see, like a well-rehearsed dance. It lends to your understanding of why the term is “martial arts” because the way Lumine maneuvers around the enemies and her sword is, very much so, an art.

But more time together means more time into probing the real reason you’ve decided to come to Fontaine with her, and for whatever reason, she is really good at getting you to spill the beans. Lumine’s heard most of your life story at this point.

“Who are you running from?” she asks one night. After checking in with the Adventurer’s Guild in Fontaine’s capital, you’ve joined Lumine in her journey around the nation to activate the rest of the teleport waypoints. You send her your sheepest look, begging with your eyes for her to not ask anymore. But you’ve skirted around this topic the last few weeks and you figure it’s time for her to know.

With a heavy breath, you set down your bowl of biryani on the grass. “Promise you won’t judge?”

“Promise.”

“...it’s Alhaitham.” The crackling of the little campfire Lumine had put together is deafening, even louder than the ripples and waves of the river crashing onto the sand in front of them.

Naturally, Paimon speaks up first, though speaking is an understatement.  “Alhaitham?! You mean that– that super mean Acting Grand Sage? The know-it-all? Can’t really care less about others? Condescending?”

“That’s a pretty big word there, Paimon–” Lumine cuts in.

“Hey!”  

“See?” you respond, the smile on your face small, awkward, and bittersweet. “Things happened and well… I thought it’d be better if we stopped seeing each other.”

“You were seeing each other?!!”

“Paimon, stop!” Lumine interjects and shoots the floating fairy a disapproving glare.

You really wish you had some alcohol with you right now.

“Well…”

For the next several minutes, you provide a detailed summary of how you came to meet and learn more about Alhaitham, the nature of the budding relationship, how all your insecurities came to a head on that night, and how you ended up here. Lumine remains silent when you finish explaining everything, clearly thinking through all the information and trying to find the right words to say.

“You know,” she begins, “Alhaitham may be one of the most infuriatingly logical men that I’ve ever met. And a really good actor, too. Remind me to tell you the details of what he did when we rescued Nahida.”

“...I don’t think that makes me feel any better.”

“I’m just saying, but I also think you know by now that Alhaitham isn’t someone who does anything that isn’t for his own benefit, in some way.”

“Again, not helping.”

“What I’m trying to say is if he just wanted to get his dick wet, I’m sure there are plenty of other people who would agree to help out in much less time.”

To which, Lumine has a point. A very good point. But still you say, “He’s super picky though, I don’t think he’d just sleep with anyone regardless.”

“Which brings me to my original point: he picked you for a reason.”

“Because I’m easy?”

Lumine flicks your forehead before you can even blink, and with a decent amount of force as well. Your resulting indignant yelp pierces the atmosphere as you rub the sore spot. “What was that for?!”

“For being unreasonable. I’m trying to say that you must be special to him, that’s all.”

“... but what if he didn’t want to see me again after sleeping together? Sure, let’s say that I am ‘special’, heavy emphasis on my air quotes right now, but I want more, an actual relationship. How do I know that’s also what his end goal is?”  

“You don’t,” Lumine affirms. “But there’s no use in wading through the what-ifs. You know what you want, and I think you’re allowed to communicate that to him, regardless of what he says.”

It’s hard to come to terms with the underlying implication that you’re being something of a coward, with not a whole lot of reason to be. You’re grateful for the open water before you, its lullaby comforting with the breeze it brings. Years of academic research have made you painfully familiar with the concept of trial and error, but to apply it to human relationships? It leaves much to be undesired. Five weeks, in the grand scheme of things, are certainly nothing more than a miniscule blip of time. But in your limited life with the overhanging unknowns of the world, it was a sizable enough amount of time filled with passive rumination and downward spirals.

“You’ll figure it out when you get there. But I’m warning you, we’ve still got a lot of ground to cover.”

You can’t help but laugh in relief. “That is completely okay, I promise you.”

Running away might as well be your newly developed skill at this point.

-

A few weeks later

“I mean, I could stay with you there in Fontaine, right? You know, extra set of hands and all?”

“You’re not getting out of this.”

“Lumiiinneee,” you whine, petulant pout making itself known.

“Just talk to him – whatever happens, happens. If it’s not meant to be, then it’s not meant to be. But you owe it to yourself to say your piece, as well as to him for an explanation that he needs to hear. Now go.”

She all but (gently) shoves you into the Akademiya, watching over you with an encouraging wave of her hand. When you’re less than five steps away from the door into the House of Daena, you look over your shoulder once more for any signs of escape. As expected, the Lumine-shaped obstacle stands firm in her spot.

You clutch your final report to your chest, mind racing with a thousand thoughts per second, and don’t even realize you’ve already made it to the elevator platform. And once it gives a mechanical shudder and starts to go up, you want to scream and simultaneously steal a glider to jump off and land safely back on the ground level.

Is it good or bad luck that no one seems to be around? Maybe he won’t be at his desk and you can just leave the report there and fucking bolt. Maybe it’s not even Alhaitham in the Grand Sage’s chair. Maybe the man is gone altogether and is somewhere in the desert looking at ancient runes.

Maybe he just doesn’t care anymore and has forgotten about you. Maybe he told himself to let bygones be bygones, and that you were simply another scholar in the Akademiya. No one special.

Your initial hopes of his coincidental absence are dashed as you walk up the stairs. His silver hair stands out among the sea of azure and viridian, and he doesn’t even bother to look up from the stack of papers in his hand. Not that you were a bull in a china shop by any means, but the man would even notice with his eyes closed if there was a fly on the complete opposite side of the office. Your heart is ready to burst from your chest with each shaky step, and too soon, you stand in front of his sprawling desk.

“My office hours will be ending in a few minutes,” he states in a matter-of-fact tone without looking at you. You risk a sharp inhale at the sound of his voice, an all too familiar mix of gentility and sternness. “If it’s something that requires more than that length of time, come back tomorrow.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck – “I’m just, um, turning in a research report?”

At the sound of your voice, Alhaitham doesn’t even bother to amuse himself. He’d much rather not look and not be disappointed, than to do so and become reacquainted with dashed hopes. “...And the necessary cover sheet is on top? Does it have your name, project number, and corresponding title?”

“Y-Yes.”

Still perusing through the paperwork in his hands, he frees one hand to point it at a basket on his far-right corner. “Leave it there. Your advisors and I will be reviewing it within the next two weeks.”

“Oh, o-okay.”

You do as instructed, but with each second that passes without any eye contact or direct acknowledgement of your presence, you begin to wonder if he’s purposely ignoring you. Or maybe he forgot about you entirely and wrote you off as a failed pursuit. Perhaps that would be the best-case scenario and you could hole up in your apartment for the rest of… eternity. Maybe. Lumine can come and scold you later and you can take it like a champ.

But your heart, ever so fickle and occasionally diabolical, plays one last card and causes you to stop at the top of the stairs. “Have a good night,” you muster out. “Thank you, Alhaitham.”

The rustling of his papers ceases as you turn and hurry down the steps, taking extra care to not trip over your feet. Just before you can activate the elevator, a frazzled “Y/N?” is called from above. With sweaty hands, a sullen heart, and a leadened brain, you nervously orient towards the scholar inhabiting your dreams, who stands on the edge of the platform above and peers down to confirm his suspicion. His stance looks as if he had leapt over his desk and sprinted at top speed towards you.

You’re not sure how to take it all in, how to take him in – the “feeble scholar”, for once, appears as such. If possible, his cheeks seem a little more sunken in, further accentuating the sharp edges of his jawline. His hair looks mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it several times too many. The cloak around his shoulders rests askew from his sudden movements.

But his eyes—

Those seafoam irises and amber pupils pierce through your soul, but not in an inquisitive and calculating manner. In fact, it’s quite the opposite – he looks unsure, disbelieving, and hesitant. To elicit such a reaction from this man should be recorded in the most prominent historical annals, but you do have to admit it’s a bad look on him.

When you open your mouth to say something, anything, the elevator begins its descent. Any words you had are wiped from your mind, and you do everything you can to maintain this staredown. Weeks ago, you couldn’t even begin to guess what this man would be feeling based on his eyes, but now? His heart is on his sleeve, and you can’t help the green envy in your veins at the possibility that others have seen him in such a vulnerable state.The constant battle between an illusional desire to be his everything and knowing that you never could and never should be, rages on.

You’re the first to look away. Sorry, Lumine, you think, as Alhaitham’s figure disappears from view. All you’re left with is the rotating orb above, spinning and spinning until it makes you sick to your stomach. You just want to get back to your apartment and start sweeping the dirt away, to return to some sense of normalcy before all of… this appeared. You never should’ve indulged in your whimsical desires.

-

Alhaitham hovers in a state of shock as he watches the elevator take you back down – after weeks of catching a glimpse of who he thinks is you at the cafe, hearing your voice in his head as he scribbles away on paperwork, or dreaming of escaping his duties to find you in Fontaine, he’s not sure if he really believes you were here or if it was some effective lucid dreaming. But the sudden pull, the impulsive need to just check the cover sheet when his name left your lips, was far too strong and he had dived right in without a second thought.

And there in your handwriting, in all its glory, was your name printed neatly at the bottom. One second, he was at his desk and the next, he was at the edge of the outer office ring for confirmation.

The last few minutes of his workday have never gone slower as he paces back and forth in front of his desk. He’s doing his best to stay calm and formulate a plan, but even that has become difficult for him. There are too many extraneous factors at play, several he can’t be sure of – did you meet someone new in Fontaine? Were you going to leave again?

Did you even want to see him?

You could’ve left without another word once your research paper landed in that return basket. He would’ve been none the wiser until he physically picked up the report, which probably wouldn’t have happened for another few days, what with all the cleaning up he’s trying to do before his resignation is official. All that lost time in between would have left him even more distraught.

But the fact that you had stopped and made a point to thank him, to call him out by name, means something. Like him, it seems you are just as unsure of where the two of you stand.

And that’s all he needs to move forward.

-

Granted, moving forward didn’t initially involve climbing up the fire escape ladder behind your apartment building.

With a takeout bag of your favorite foods from Lambad’s Tavern, he was originally going to knock on your front door like any other individual. But before his knuckles could rap against the Adhigama wood, he thought, why not check to see if you’re even home? That would eliminate the possibility of you seeing him through the peephole and then pretending you’re not home – or worse, you opening it and then slamming it back in his face.

His unparalleled logic led him to skip the ladder and jump onto the first floor. It’s not that he wouldn’t be able to climb it with one free hand – the food would’ve gotten messy with all the jostling around. He ignores the sound of laughing children as he ambles past, but allows the semblance of a grin to dawn his face when he hears, “Whoa, look at that mister!” Alhaitham looks above him as he climbs the next set of stairs, noticing a light peeking through the living room window. That’s one good sign, at least, because it means you’re home, right? He peers past the half-open curtains when he arrives at your floor. He’s just checking. Nothing suspicious or untoward. Yet all of that is scrapped— another deviation from his initial plan— when he sees you sitting on your couch, sorting through a pile of mail on your coffee table. With a mind of their own, his knuckles knock lightly against the glass and he can’t help but let a humorous snort slip out when your body jerked with a visceral startle, head whipping towards the source of your adrenaline spike.

You don’t need to verbally question his sudden appearance when it’s written all over your face.  Your eyebrows are knitted and arched, mouth turned down in a slight frown, hands clenched in fists with visible tension and unease. “Alhaitham, what– I mean–”

He holds up the food behind the windowpane for you to see. “I wanted to bring you dinner since you probably don’t have anything prepared on your first night back.”

Without another word, you slide open the window, letting him clamber through as you take the bag from him. He retrieves it as you lock the window and yank the curtains together, setting it on the table away from a mound of what he presumes to be junk mail. You scramble for words and coherency as you search for clean plates and utensils, but the effort is fruitless. There’s a trapped shriek in your chest and you don’t know how to snuff it out.

Dinner is a quiet affair, save for some awkward small talk here and there. He makes it a point to give you extras, whether it be a little more mint cilantro or tamarind chutney for the samosas (despite it being his favorite) or more of the lamb from the biryani. Each little morsel pushes your heart further up your throat, further sending you into a downward spiral. Why is he so kind and caring when you had essentially kicked him out last time? Why is he going out of his way to make up for a wrong he never committed?

Alhaitham basks in your company, taking in every detail of your outward appearance. You seem skinnier than before, hair just a little bit longer. A few fresh, healing cuts on your hand stand out to him and he hopes they were all accidental and not intentionally created by another human being. There’s so much he wants to say and question, but for once he cannot find the right words. Rarely has he ever felt as though he was skating on paper-thin ice with someone – years of not caring or sparing thoughts for how others might perceive him lends nothing to resolve his state of incertitude. So the only way he can currently try to communicate is through actions, hence the extra foods and your favorite parts of them, making sure you have a usable napkin at all times, refilling your cup of water when it starts to look low, and more.

With a full belly, you sigh with satisfaction, a breath that appeases Alhaitham just the slightest bit. “That was good. Thank you for bringing it.”

“You’re welcome. Was the food in Fontaine not to your taste?”

You hum in thought. “A bit bland, honestly. Not as many spices are used in their foods like they are here.”

“Ah.”

The two of you sit silently for a few moments. You’re looking anywhere and at anything but him, your knee bouncing and hands wringing together. Is he trying to let you down easy? Soften the blow? What is his end goal?

His fingers tap the table in a silent rhythm, noticing that despite the small talk, the tension in the air is still viscous. He ignores the gnawing desire to hold your hand and squeeze it tight, to graze his thumb over those scabs and kiss them. He’s not ready to leave yet, which is why he juts his chin towards the only unopened bag on the table and says, “I also brought dessert. Would you care to have some now?”

No. Yes. I don’t know. I can think of something else I want for dessert but that’s not the point right now, is what runs through your head.

“Sure. What is it? I might have something to go with it.”

“It’s baklava.”

For him to remember that baklava from Pupusa Cafe is your preferred dessert when eating your favorite dishes is even more mind-boggling in this whole situation.

You stand on shaky legs and walk towards the pantry. “Does wine sound okay?”

Alhaitham ponders your last mutual experience with alcohol, which had ended in a disaster, even if he knew full well that it wasn’t a cause by any means; an unintended catalyst. As long as neither overindulged, it would be harmless. Right?

So he nods. “That sounds good.”

You return with a corkscrew opener, two stemless wine glasses, and one of your better bottles of aged wine. Alhaitham remains silent as he takes the opener from you and drives it into the cork, hand twisting the top knob with ease. You feel shameless in the way you stare at his arms, watching his muscles flex. The veins in his hand become more visible and you can see the tension in his forearm through his arm guards, all the more when he pushes the levers closed and wiggles the cork out of its confines. He takes good care to tactfully remove the cork and place it on the table, and pours a glass for you first.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you take it from him with both hands, ignoring the way his fingers seem to linger after making contact with yours. You portion out the baklava as he pours a glass for himself and he voices his gratitude in turn.    

As you nibble on the delicacy, the silence weighs heavily on your chest, both a burden and a source of comfort. “Did you find everything you needed in Fontaine for your research?” he asks, once again attempting to make some neutral conversation. Alhaitham has never been one for sweets, but he’s willing to eat it for and with you. The cafe’s baklava is one of few desserts he can handle, as it’s not as sickeningly sweet as some other places’ when they’ve added too much syrup.

You chew slowly as you think of your answer. “I think so. I feel pretty good about my report.”

“I’ll be sure to read it soon,” he responds. After all, he is a pretty quick reader, and with the dwindling number of research project applications, he can efficiently get through the other reports to make sure he reviews yours before he goes back to being the Scribe.

“You know, there’s no need to rush on my account,” you say. Honestly, that’s the last thing you need because it would confirm your worst fears and assumptions. Everything discussed with Lumine would’ve been tossed violently out the window, and you so badly don’t want it to manifest.

“...I won’t,” he assures you. Alhaitham understands your research paper needs to be treated like every other one passing through the Akademiya, especially if he is going to be one of the formal reviewers.

You feel your lungs losing air, your heart rate soaring through the roof. With a stroke of luck, your glasses of wine are finished off and the plates hold nothing but crumbs, which provides a perfect excuse for you to get up and get away.

“I’m gonna wash the dishes,” you announce, voice doing little to hide how nervous and shaky you’re feeling. It’s another miracle that you don’t drop anything on the trek from the dining table to the sink as you wonder if you’ve killed any chance of being with Alhaitham. Where was the confidence you possessed when you first met the man?

Even being mere meters away from him becomes painful. His presence alone provides a sense of security, strong and silent. The lack of warmth, the string between you two pulled taut, ignites an obdurate yearning – the very same yearning experienced when you spent days avoiding the man prior to your departure for Fontaine. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they all say, and there certainly was some merit to it.

The silence remains suffocating, in some ways, but also comforts you with its deep pressure, distracting you enough that you fail to notice Alhaitham moving around. He removes his cloak and earpieces, draping them neatly over the couch armrest before he comes to stand next to you at the sink. He grabs a towel and is ready to dry when you’re done washing the dishes. Your muscles begin to relax, that earlier frost of loneliness gradually dissipating with his presence nearby. He dries everything with the utmost care and lines them up neatly as you hand them over, and you ignore the little brushes of his fingers against yours with each relinquished plate. You can’t help but wonder if he can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks because honestly, you feel like your face is on fire.

Alhaitham finishes drying off the last item – the second stemless wine glass – and turns to lean his back against the counter with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He waits as you rinse down the sink and passes you the towel to dry off your hands. Your timid smile leaves him hopeful that you’re not visibly shying away from him— not visibly, at least. Seconds pass, and now there is nothing left for you to do or keep yourself busy. He waits for you to gather your bearings and settle to show that you’re ready to talk about… whatever this is.

Those haunting irises suddenly meet his with an alarming amount of determination, holding steadfast and searching his for something, anything. He can’t bear to lose and look away, not that he wants to. Yet you remain quiet, and Alhaitham leans into his impulses.

With firm, sure hands, he pulls you toward his original spot and lifts you up just enough so that you’re sitting on the counter. Alhaitham plants them by your waist and bends down to be level with your gaze, which now holds hints of fear and surprise. They’re open wide, your pupils slowly dilating, and he catches a glimpse of your fingers curling around the edges of the counter. He so badly wants to cradle your face in his hands, to feel your physical presence and prove to himself that you’re really here before him. But that is intimacy he hasn’t quite been granted yet and he can’t mess this up. He must’ve done something wrong the last time he was here, and he most certainly doesn’t want to risk the same outcome again.

“I like you,” he proclaims with a resolute tone. Alhaitham has always hated beating around the bush when unnecessary, and at this point he needs it said out loud for you to know. “I have been attracted to you since the moment we met, and I used to believe that it was purely a biological response. But then I wanted to know more about you. I wanted to learn more about who you are and how your mind works. To be quite honest, I can’t stand the thought of anyone else being in my position right now. I will not hide the fact that I am selfish and want you all for myself, if you would have me.”

You are struggling so hard to keep the smile off your face, your mouth pursing while your teeth dig into the inside of your bottom lip. Three months ago, you would never have seen this coming, and you would have laughed in anyone’s face if they had suggested it.

“If you need time, I can wait. I am not always the most patient person, but for you, I am willing to do so. And–”

“I was worried that you wouldn’t want to see me again after having sex,” you interject and confess. The embarrassment of your thoughts and actions quickly becomes a heavy weight in your chest. Your nerves strain to get the better of you and shut you down before saying more, but you force yourself to push past them. Alhaitham provided you with honesty and transparency, and he deserves the same from you. “We had so much tension between us and I was worried that once it was all resolved, you wouldn’t feel the need to see me again.”

Alhaitham takes a moment to process your words, but he can still see the tension in your shoulders. You won’t meet his gaze as you look past him or at other parts of his body. “There’s something else, is there not?”

You look down at your hands in your lap, your fingers intertwined and fingertips applying pressure where they land. With how forthcoming he has been, you owe it to him to extend the same courtesy, despite how silly it feels now.

“I couldn’t understand why you would even like me,” you say, voice soft and barely audible in the silence. You’re unable to mask the melancholy in your tone when you remember how it felt to internally question his affections and assume the worst. A quiet chuckle slips past your lips, but it’s derisive and bittersweet. “I’m just another scholar and you— you were the Scribe and later Acting Grand Sage. I thought maybe people would accuse me of… providing sexual favors, to put it lightly, if you showed me any leniency or favoritism in my academic career.”

The back of your knuckles brush against his cheek as you lift your head up to take him in. “You could have anyone in the world and you deserve nothing but the best. So why me?”

“I would need a few all-nighters and several pieces of paper to pen down every reason why.”

His quick reasoning with all indicators of certainty – his tone, the lack of any dishonesty in his eyes, the way he holds your eye contact – takes you for a loop. You’re only able to let out a soft “oh” as you let the implications of his words swim in your brain, leaving you helpless to find a suitable response. How do you follow up on an answer like that?

When he feels your fingers slipping down his jawline, he stops it with his own to press his cheek into your palm. “If it provides you any comfort, I will no longer be the Acting Grand Sage by next week. You know how long I’ve waited for them to process and approve of my resignation. And as the Scribe… it still does not matter. People who would assume something so salacious are simply capitalizing on their own insecurities, and they do not deserve a second of your time or an ounce of room in your thoughts. I do my best to exercise fairness and reason in all matters for the Akademiya, and even as my partner you would not be safe from that.

“I’ve never shied away from telling you how things are and you know this. I can ensure you would not earn any favoritism or leniency within the boundaries of the Akademiya, should my presence be involved in your research.”

The smirk that creeps up at the corner of his lips ignites a small flame in your belly – thrill and heat and trepidation all melding together. “Now, outside of those boundaries, it’s a different matter. If I may pry once more, what is your answer?”

Liquid fire pumps from your heart and into your veins, further fueling the heat in your core. Just as it dips dangerously lower, so does your hand, and the other joins in lightly scraping your nails down his abdomen. You feel him jump beneath your touch and relish in the sound of his swallow, and how his breath hitches when your fingertips dip into the band of his pants. They tug him forward until he’s standing between your thighs, just centimeters of nothingness between you two. Even as close as he is, Alhaitham can’t help but think there’s still too much space unoccupied.

Your eyes scream, beseeching him to understand your actions and for him to respond in kind. It can only mean one thing, but he wants to hear those words. He wants it engraved in his memories for the rest of time, despite the desperation to give in and give you both what you desire and need. Alhaitham grasps your chin between his thumb and curled index finger, leaning forward closer and closer until his lips barely touch yours.

“Use your words.”

Arousal seeps through your underwear as the subdued tenor of his voice sends shivers down your spine. Wholly unfair, this man is. Devilish, demanding, teasing, controlling – but most of all, he is yours.

“Please let me have you, if you will have me,” you whisper against his lips, eyelashes fluttering closed at the faint touch.

No sooner when you are greeted by darkness does he fully slot his mouth against yours, hands gripping tightly on your hips to pull you against him. A groan slips past and into you because gods, he’s missed this so much. After nights of waking up with the ghost of your kisses, he never wants this to end and longs for a reality where time can stop and he can take his sweet, sweet time to worship every millimeter of your body with his lips, and then some. Excitement electrifies his whole body when you reciprocate his desire ounce for ounce, and even more so when you let out a pretty little whine, just for him.

When he pulls back for a chance to breathe, he doesn’t move far. “Good girl,” he praises so sweetly, the words washing over you in something akin to pride for eliciting his approval and pleasing him. Alhaitham slides the tip of his nose against yours, moving to kiss your forehead, then your cheeks, your jawline, and the pulse point on your neck. Even the slightest pressure has you tilting your head to the side, granting him permission and room to do as he pleases. Alhaitham bides his time to press whispers of kisses onto your skin until he nips a sensitive spot. A sharp inhale pierces through the kitchen when he sucks on the patch of skin caught between his teeth, taking the utmost care to break the little capillaries underneath. He wants you to experience his phantom touches on these spots in the hours when he’s away from you, a constant reminder that you are his and his alone.

Your fingers dig into Alhaitham’s silver locks, torn between pressing him further into your neck and pulling him away. “Haitham,” you plead and tug on his strands, which only prompts an even harsher abrasion from him. “Wanna kiss you.” Your voice is breathy, and you feel as if you’re on the verge of tears. Who is he to deny such a reasonable request?

Though instead, he pulls you off the counter and rushes to your bedroom with you in tow, granting your wish as soon as you enter. The back of his knees hit the foot of your bed and Alhaitham drags you with him when he sits on top of your blankets. Despite your eagerness to clamber over and straddle him, he disapproves when you attempt to exercise a modicum of control over the situation by leveraging some height over him, utilizing gravity to lean into his embrace and kisses. His palms slide up your thighs with reverence until they dig into the crevice of your hips and yank them down. To have you pressed fully against him is most certainly a blessing, and there’s no way you don’t feel his growing arousal against yours.

When he feels his bottom lip stuck between your teeth, Alhaitham smiles. It still seems you’re not fully understanding the position you’re in. Perhaps, he might need to remind you of just who exactly is succumbing to who.

You keen when his hands dip underneath your shirt to draw meaningless patterns into your waist, but also to make his mark as he holds tight enough that you think you would feel some internal bruising tomorrow. They dance higher and higher, until they meet the bottom seam of your bra, and you nearly choke with the arousal suffocating your lungs.

“Can I?” Alhaitham almost begs, but watches for any sign of hesitation.

“Yes,” you breathe back. You lift your arms up, waiting with thinning patience, and he wastes no time in following through, tossing the shirt to the side with one hand as the other busies to unhook the metal clasp of your bra. Soon enough, your upper body is bare for him to see, to touch, to love – and his breath is taken away because you are so, so beautiful; perfect breasts with hardened nipples, an empty canvas all for him. He made a mistake last time for not seeing them properly, having been too focused on the way they felt against his chest instead.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs. His subsequent scoff feels derisive, sardonic, self-destructive, and his thumbs ghost over your areolas. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous – this is unfair.”

“You’re the one who’s unfair,” you retaliate with a shaky breath as you nearly tear off his shirt. One look at his muscular and toned frame, and it takes everything to stop the drool from spilling past your lips. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“Be careful,” he warns, his fingers digging into the flesh just underneath your breasts. Alhaitham holds onto you as he scoots further back onto the bed, and once he deems there’s enough room, he rolls over until he’s hovering above you, panting and hair splayed and lips swollen. “I’m just a feeble scholar.”

When you roll your eyes with an excessive amount of sass, he dips down to capture your right nipple in his mouth and gives a harsh suck as punishment, satisfied when all defiance on your face morphs into pleasure. Pretty, responsive, little angel, all for him, so sweet, so delicate, so adorable when your spine arches into his mouth and continues to suspend itself as he pays his respects to your other breast. You feel your conscience become fuzzier and fuzzier, dissolving into mush as the tendrils of overstimulation begin to grow, and once again, you find yourself torn between wanting to let him continue and wanting him to stop.

He decides to grant you some mercy when you can’t help but twitch and shy away. Alhaitham’s primal desires begin to crest and wash away any rationale, desperate to keep the taste and feel of your skin between his lips and on his tongue. He doesn’t quite understand this newfound desire to nip and bite, but all he knows is that when he does, his arousal pulses and nearly threatens to break past the seam of his pants. Alhaitham moves lower, lower, ghosting past your stomach, nudging past the band of your bottoms and underwear to tug them down all the way. Those are thrown out of view and he finally, finally, gets to continue from where he last left off, taking no time to push your legs away towards your chest and give a lascivious lick up the length of your cunt. The tip of his tongue meets your clit at the end of its journey, and he firmly holds you down when your hips buck into his mouth as it circles the nub.

It’s game over when he takes it fully in his mouth.

Your hands twist themselves once more into his silver hair, expletives slipping off your tongue as you chase your high. You feel your pussy clench around nothing the higher you climb, the coil in your core winding tighter and tighter. He eats you out like a man starved, enthusiasm unveiled and clear. His passion unbridled and sending you further into the clouds, you feel tears in your eyes begin to well up from sheer bliss, so sensitive and so unbelievably unprepared for everything this man was going to give you tonight. “Haitham,” you cry over and over, his name a mantra and prayer.

When he leans back, you catch a glimpse of the sheen on his chin and the way his eyes remain focused on your arousal, pupils blown. “You taste so good,” he compliments, his voice somehow having dropped an octave lower. “Could eat you out for hours. So good for me, fuck.” It’s dangerous how much you love to hear him curse, knowing that you are the reason why. The rational, feeble, well-spoken scholar, his prose extending to situations such as now, is almost reduced to such crude and filthy vocabulary.

Alhaitham would need to be blind to miss your sticky precum practically spilling from your core after what he said. It’d be a shame to let any of it go to waste, he muses, as he drags his tongue up the length of your cunt and pays attention to your clit again. He watches for every reaction, what makes you tug him closer, what makes your body twitch and convulse, what causes the shakiest exhales from your lungs, what contributes to your squeals and cries – he wants you to get a taste of just how unhinged he becomes in your presence.

Each moment of friction, so wet and slick, against your core seems to send you further and further into oblivion. Tears overflow when your heart bursts and Alhaitham doesn’t miss them – the sheen sliding down the sides of your face shines in the moonlight and he knows there is no reason to fear you’re in pain. He drinks in your moans and feels your fingers tangle further in his silver strands, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, your hips with a mind of their own as you grind against his tongue and nose to chase your release. Alhaitham pays no mind to the way his cock twitches once more in his pants or the unmistakable wet spot that’s formed from his own precum.

The coil in your abdomen wounds tighter and tighter. There is nothing on your mind but the man between your legs and your impending orgasm, one with an intensity you haven’t experienced in ages. “ ‘m close,” you gasp and meet his burning gaze. “Please, wanna cum – yes – please, sir–”

How he doesn’t cum in his pants at the title is beyond his comprehension, but the stroke to his ego is welcoming, to say the least. Alhaitham never felt any type of way when others addressed him as so, sometimes annoyed even, but from you? It is everything. A verbal indication of relinquishing your power to him, your existence at its highest vulnerability, the underlying respect, the implicit trust hidden between three letters – only has him pushing down harder against your thighs, leaving no room for you to fight. The resolve and determination to have you cum on his tongue only increases and his thoughts plunder further into hell. Cum for me, cum on my tongue, let me taste your release that I give you, so fucking addictive – his silent commands painted on your tight bundle of nerves.

With Alhaitham exercising a dizzyingly sinful strength against you, leaving you helpless and defenseless, you let yourself succumb as your heart rate increases. Your breathy warnings and pleas, the oh fuck!s, the whimpering sir!s, confessions of love on the tip of your tongue – you have one minute, moment of clarity when your body freezes, and the coil snaps.

You don’t think you’ve ever cum so hard before, reality-shattering, nerves on overdrive, your body trembling beneath his palms as you ride out the pleasure for as long as you can. The quiet scream from your lungs is inevitable as it dissolves into sobs and Alhaithm follows you when your hips buck. There’s not enough oxygen for you and you can feel the visceral clenching of your abdomen as you fight for air and some semblance of control again – but that flies out the window when, for the first time tonight, Alhaitham slides his tongue inside your quivering cunt.

Said Scribe cannot help but groan, and he wishes he’d done this earlier. To feel your creamy walls squeeze as his taste buds slide amongst them, your keening ringing in his ears, the shaking of your thighs a prisoner between his fingers, the intoxicating taste of your cum – all of it is more than he could have ever dreamed of. Right where he wants you, and all his, his, his.

The incessant tugging of his hair tells him to stop for now, as much as he doesn’t want to. If it were up to him, he’d have you cumming on his tongue for hours, his hard cock be damned. But your convulsions of overstimulation manage to generate the slightest bit of sympathy and he laments when pulling away. His eyes hone in on the way your pussy contracts around nothing, almost begging for something to fill you again. “Good girl,” he praises, tenor delicate and charming, as he rubs gentle circles on your abdomen in an attempt to ground you. There are stars in your eyes, and he waits for you to come back to him.

You barely register Alhaitham’s hand on your body as you stare up at the ceiling, brain and soul somewhat disconnected due to the high of your orgasm. So good to me, your thoughts coo. Haitham, sir, how can I show my gratitude to him?

“Y/N,” and at last, you make eye contact with him. He preens at the blissed out look on your face and moves forward until he’s lying next to you, his weight supported on one arm while the other brushes away your baby hairs. A dreamy smile graces your lips, and he can’t help but lean forward for a soft kiss. Languid, sensual, pliant – several minutes fly by as you bask in each other’s presence until the need for more begins to bloom again. Alhaitham lets out a chuckle when he feels your hand wandering down his frame until it rests on his crotch. Making out with you has kept him semi-hard, and he’s happy you’re taking the initiative. Not that you’re in control, by any means, but it’s cute that you might think so.

Your mind reels from just how big he feels beneath your palm. You can’t deny the times when you’ve sneaked glances at his crotch, his tight pants outlining a slight bulge from day to day – but you never thought your fingers would be splayed so far apart, and you just know they would struggle to meet when gripping his length. Your whines reach his ears as you fumble with the clasp above the zipper, and Alhaitham is so kind, kind enough to take over and do it for you. Seconds later, his pants and underwear join the pile of forgotten clothes, and you immediately look down at what you’ve been waiting for.

The instant pooling of saliva in your mouth is embarrassing, shame and lust spilling into your chest and through your veins. Alhaitham’s cock is so beautiful, just like the rest of him, and you’ve never wanted something in your mouth so bad. It twitches under your reverent gaze, and the tip glistens with his precum. Even the noticeable veins drawn along his length are beautiful, and his balls seem to be engorged, heavy with cum. You prove your earlier hypothesis when you hold it in your hand, and your fingers truly do not meet around the circumference. A gush of slick leaks and paints your inner thighs, your hand seemingly tiny in comparison as you slowly stroke him.

Alhaitham hisses at your touch, so cold against the heat of his cock. There’s a passing thought of wanting to keep that fawning look on your face at all times, the metaphorical hearts in your eyes with his dick in your hand. In a moment of weakness, the thought begins to spiral into darker fantasies, how to keep you hooked and dependent on him, his cock, his mouth, his touch. A flash of a daydream crosses by of him sitting in his office chair, you on your knees between his legs, his shaft bullied deep in your throat as you keep it warm for him, drool and spit spilling from the corner of your lips, so submissive and desperate for him to fuck your face–

Your thumb glosses over his frenulum and he is ripped from his reverie. At risk of cumming too quickly, he thinks of how to keep your soft hands away for now. What can he use? How can he restrict you?

Ah.

Confused whimpers follow after him when he abruptly stands up from your bed and walks over to the pile of discarded clothes. You miss the warmth of his body next to you, goosebumps from the sudden chill rising on your skin. But before you can begin to chase after him, he returns to sit on the bed and beckons for you to sit up for him.

He loves how willing you are to obey him, your eyes wide and a little awestruck as you follow his gesture – almost as if he were your puppeteer. Alhaitham holds out his hands in front of him, palms facing the ceiling, and you match the posture with intrigue painted across your face. As you wait, clarification comes to you when he reveals the patterned, teal sash that usually encompasses his hips. Slow, deliberate movements as he wraps the cloth around your wrists (in case you don’t want it because he would never force you to do anything you were uncomfortable with), indicate this uncharted territory. And when the tie is made and the knot is pulled tight, you look up at him.

“Is this okay?” He asks. When you give a mute nod, he clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Words, Y/N.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “Yes, sir, it’s okay.”

Alhaitham watches as you lay back until your head meets the pillow, and your bound wrists lay prettily above your head. Your constrained and exposed body greets him. He sees your eyes strain to catch another glance at his cock, and the smirk on his lips is nothing but smug as he gives it a few quick pumps as a gift to you.

“Can you come here?” You plead because you know there’s no room to make any demands, and it’s his turn to be curious. Nevertheless, he resumes his original position by your side, but you shake your head. You can tell he doesn’t know what’s happening, but you are feeling shameless and powerless, at the mercy of this man, and you want him to really, really, drive that point deeper.

“Can you…straddle me? Like above my chest though?”

If this is going where Alhaitham thinks it’s going, he might just abandon the Akademiya altogether, whisk you away to his house, kick out Kaveh and have him live in your apartment instead, and keep his own doors locked for eternity. He does as you ask as he thrums in excitement, his cock weighty and leaking when you’re satisfied with where he is.

Time slows to a crawl as he watches you lift your head up with your pretty mouth open and take the tip of his cock between your glossy lips.

The tight heat is maddening, a strangled “fuck” falling off his tongue, and you push forward to take more of his length in your mouth. So dutiful and loyal, you have proven yourself, as you suck his cock with your eyes closed and moans vibrating around him. Given certain physical limitations, there’s only so much you can take in, which is where he believes it’s his time to act his part. He places a hand on the back of your skull to provide you some relief, but also to sink deeper down your throat. Naturally, you fall back until it’s just the head between your lips again, but he is right there to drag you back towards him and fill your depraved mouth.

“Look at you,” he hisses, controlling your pace. Such a good little fucktoy, no?  “Who knew you would want my cock so badly? For me to sit on top and watch as you struggle to even take half of it in your mouth? I don’t think you have any idea of what you’ve started. Your lips are stretched so wide, but just wide enough for me to fit perfectly in between them, like it was made for me. Maybe that’s what it is.” His perverse thoughts run wild without any composure or filter, and he is unable to hold it in. “You were made for me and my cock, and– oh fuck – it seems like you love the idea of being my personal cocksleeve.”

Your eagerness to please him increases as you strain to take more in, his tip slipping into and catching the back of your throat. The sound of you choking on his cock rings in your ears, sending you further and further into oblivion. Every word from Alhaitham sounds true, and he’s right – right that maybe you were specifically made for him, his own blessing from the Archons, and right that you deeply, painfully, love the idea of letting him use you as he wishes. A garbled cry, followed by more sticky release dripping from your cunt, doesn’t go unnoticed when his voice sounds ragged on the word “cocksleeve.” It’s a lascivious tone of accord and approval, and your tears flow when he pulls you as far down his length as your quenched throat allows, your chained wrists resting atop your skull, and he keeps you there.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice. “I have no objections to fully commit to being yours, your sir. But you must understand I expect the same commitment in return. This cock is yours,” Alhaitham promises, relishing in your muffled whimper of agreement. “And you are mine. My,” – a pause – “personal, depraved, slut.”

At first, he worries he might have gone too far with such a derogatory term, but they are all dashed aside when he watches your eyelids flutter closed and eyes roll into the back of your head. A long whine sends him into overdrive, and even more so when you try to fit more of his cock down your throat. Expletives slip from his tongue as he pulls you away completely, a tendril of saliva connecting your lips to his tip, your mouth still wide open while gasping for air. He sees your own tongue peek out and rest on your bottom lip, pliant and waiting for him to return.

Alhaitham lets go of your skull and watches you fall back to your pillow. He moves your tied hands above and over your head until they settle right above your belly button. The position allows him to trap your arms beneath him and move just a little further up the bed for the bottom half of his length to weigh heavily on your eager mouth. It remains open as he drags his shaft along your tongue, teasing you by slipping the head of his cock in your mouth. Your lips immediately close around it, but they are no match for when he pulls away, and you’re left empty once again.

“Truly a cockslut,” he chides as his hand takes a hold of his length and smacks it against your tongue. “You’ll take everything I give you, won’t you?” And he smirks when you nod, still beckoning, still waiting. “You’ve done well for me so far. Perhaps I should give you a gift.”

There’s little time to regain your senses when he shoves his length in until it hits the back of your throat once more and grabs onto your headboard. Just that angle gives him enough leverage to fuck your face as he pleases.

“If your mouth is this tight, I can only imagine what your cunt will feel like on my cock,” he grits out. Your brain goes numb as you take it all in, content and satisfied to please Alhaitham. You focus on making sure your teeth don’t drag against his skin, tongue swiping patterns and circles around his cock when possible. “I’ll need to take my time stretching out your tiny pussy, won’t I? Fuck, need to make it fit inside you. Isn’t that right?”

Alhaitham pretends to be dissatisfied with your moan, all garbled and thick with drool. “How many times do I need to tell you to use your words?” He teases, knowing full well there’s no way for you to form any right now. But a wicked, joyous laugh rings in your ears when he can tell you’re attempting to do it anyways. It goes straight down his dick and into his balls, and as they tighten further, he knows he’s close.

You don’t know how it’s possible for him to grow any thicker, but somehow it happens when his pace increases, and he tells you, “I’m going to cum, okay? Going to give you all my cum, make you my cumslut. You want to be my cumslut, you’re doing so well, so perfect, letting me fuck your mouth. Shit, cumming, cumming –!”

At the very last second, he pulls out and furiously pumps his cock, shifting back just in time for his cum to paint your breasts. “Fuck!” He growls and rides out the high until there’s nothing left to give you, blinding light beneath his eyelids before he snaps them open so he can watch you become covered by his release. Viscous, white ropes paint over you, some even landing on your cheek and neck. His chest heaves and his eyes remain unfocused from the fog in his brain.

That is, until he watches you swipe his cum from your neck with your fingers before it drips onto the bed, and place them in your mouth. Your sigh screams content as you lick them clean, and as far as he can tell, you’re enjoying the taste of him – as if he was the one to sate your thirst rather than the other way around. In a trance, he joins you in your meal by feeding you more with his own appendages, and his dick returns to half-mast once all the cum is visibly gone and slid down your throat.

“Thank you for your cum,” you say, your voice dreamy and euphoric. Alhaitham pulls you by your bound wrists again until you’re sitting up close enough, and buries his head into your shoulder, embedding his own kisses of gratitude into your skin. It doesn’t matter that there’s dried spit on your chin and your hair is a mess – you’re still so incredibly stunning to him.

To look into your eyes, to cradle your face in his palm, to ghost his thumb over your cheekbone, how lucky he is to be in a position to even ask you, “Was that okay?”

“Very,” you smile, unabashed and clearly happy with everything that had just happened. A small giggle slips out as well.

“Good,” he murmurs after kissing your forehead. “Would you be open to one more round? It seems I haven’t gotten enough of you.”

You see the evidence of his claims, how his cock gradually grows and rises under your watchful stare. His earlier words of needing to stretch you out before he can fuck you play in your head, and they remind you of just how wet you are. Still tied up, you scoot back away from him until you can stretch your legs out, parted to reveal what you so desperately wanted to touch as his dick was lodged in your mouth. Alhaitham’s pupils dilate and zero in on the mess between your thighs, and he chases after you to spread your legs farther.

“You became this wet from me fucking your mouth?” His fingers slide against the folds of your puffy cunt, your clit peeking out and swollen. “Tsk, all this pre gone to waste,” and you whimper when his nails barely graze that bundle of nerves, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. There’s no resistance when he works his middle finger inside you and your breath hitches. He turns his wrist as he fingers you, creating more and more arousal coursing through your veins. Alhaitham is proud that one finger of his affects you so. You whine and reach for him with grabby hands, managing to latch onto his wrist so he can keep his appendages buried inside you. “My my,” he teases, and his fingers curl, searching and searching until his fingertip taps against the exact spot that makes your back arch.

“You’re so eager to be filled,” Alhaitham taunts as he lubes up his ring finger with your slick. You feel even tighter when it slips in with his middle finger, and he finds that spot again in no time, already having memorized where it is. “You don’t have my permission to cum yet,” he warns, a decision just made when your walls are really beginning to clench around him.

“B-but–”

A third finger joins in, cutting you off from any protesting. “You either cum on my cock or not at all,” he offers and you think it’s beyond cruel. Why can’t you cum on his fingers and his cock?

With every last thread of your existence, you stamp down the growing desire to cum again. It feels like hours have passed, your sanity barely intact, when Alhaitham hums, just loud enough to be heard amongst your moans and whines. “I’m beginning to question whether I truly am too big for you,” he contemplates out loud. “What do you think, Y/N?”

It’s so hard to answer his question when you’re using everything else inside you to not break around his fingers. The depraved squelching of your slick only adds fuel to the fire in your core, and you’re trying to think, you really are–

The friction ceases, and before you can even address it, there’s a light, punishing slap across your clit. “Fuck,” you whimper, throat dry.

“Answer my question. Do you think I might not fit inside you?”

You know what answer he’s looking for. You know he wants you to surrender to his hidden intentions, that, “It doesn’t matter,” and you swallow. “I will…make it fit.”

In turn, he removes his fingers with care, but leaves you horribly empty with the void expanding into your chest. “Do you have a condom?” Alhaitham asks while looking around your bedroom.

“The bottom drawer on the right in the bathroom.”

Your sir leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your stomach. “I will return soon.”

For the seconds that you try to catch your breath, to calm your beating heart, to ignore the vacuity between your legs, you realize just where you are and who you’re with. You haven’t had much of a clear mind since the second he knocked on your window, caught up in the whirlwind of your nerves and paranoia – and then to have it turned on its head where you now lay in your bed, free of any prior anxiety, and drown in your lust.

Alhaitham wanders back into your room, focused on the package in his hand. Shameless and perverse, your eyes drink in his length, bobbing with each step. Even you’re beginning to doubt your ability to take him all in, but the anticipation, the threads of excitement that you may be filled again clouds over everything else.

“Hold your legs for me,” he commands gently, and you obey once he unties the sash around your wrists. Your arms hook beneath your knees so that everything is displayed and exposed to him. He sets the condom to the side when he shuffles closer so his hips meet the bottom of your thighs. Your breath hitches when he presses his cock onto your abdomen, and it pleases both of you so much to see that his tip just about reaches your belly button. “Look at how deep it’ll be inside you,” he coos, your whine following. “But it’s okay if you can’t take it all, you can’t help it that your little cunt is so tight.”

There’s a twinge of faux disappointment in his words. As if on instinct, you shake your head in vehement disagreement. “I’ll make it fit, sir, I promise,” you gasp and pull your legs closer to you. “We have to make it fit.”

“Mmm, my eager cocksleeve,” he responds with mirth, his regales washing away the panic from your system. You wait with bated breath as he grinds the underside of his entire length against your glistening folds, purposely catching onto your clit when possible. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand the torture, becoming wetter and wetter with each glide. “The color system is okay to check in with you?”

“Yes.”

He nods and leans back so the tip of his cock is just outside your entrance. His fingers roll and stretch the condom down his length. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to tear his gaze away from your core so he can obtain your consent to start, and the determined nod he receives sets his heart aflame.

A sinful perversion enters his mind as he watches your messy cunt split open and stretch over the head of his cock. He thinks about the future and wonders when the day will be for you to be in his lap and sink down his cock with no hesitation. His thumbs spread your folds further apart so he can get a better look, his lustful illusions from many lonely nights finally coming into play. Your breathy gasp when the head pops in is alluring, and he craves more of it. That perversion echoes its lack of satisfaction, that this is not enough, and he needs it all. Pride fills his chest as you take the first few inches with no problem, trying to take deep breaths as he continues to bully his way into your pussy.

Though internally, your mind is on the verge of breaking from how thick Alhaitham is. The emptiness from earlier has long been fulfilled, and you take a look to see that he’s barely fit half oh him inside you, and you already feel so full.

You were made for me.

I was made for him, you remind yourself, rationality thrown out the window because serving Alhaitham is all that matters in this moment. He’s giving you his cock, taking his time for you, providing a subtle reminder of just who you will belong to from here on out. Alhaitham has been so kind to you, you think. The least you could do is to be his good little slut, so eager and always yearning for him.

“You’re doing so well,” Alhaitham praises, though his voice chokes. You’re terribly tight around him, so much so that he wonders if he would even be able to pull out once he’s buried all of himself inside you. It wouldn’t be much of a problem, he thinks, to have you stuck on his cock for eternity, fucked dumb with nothing on your mind but him and pleasure. His hand puts the slightest pressure on your abdomen, but it’s enough for you to break with an “oh!”

“Fuck, I can almost feel myself inside you,” he marvels. “Color?”

It takes you a few seconds to process his question. “Green,” falls off your tongue with a whimper. But the bit of hesitation is enough for Alhaitham to stop in his tracks.

“Y/N, look at me.”

A dreamy hum on your lips, your blown out eyes meet his, and he realizes how far gone you are. “We can stop, it’s okay if we do.” But that may have been the wrong thing to say because your face falls, tears prickling your eyes. “I can do it,” you sniffle. “Please, sir.”

There is no way for him to remain unaffected by the way you address him, but he ensures to take extra care for the last few inches.

“You’re doing so well, taking all of me in. You’re keeping your promise, I’m so proud of you,” Alhaitham coos. The bottom of his shaft is just a little bit thicker, and you let out a happy squeal when your cunt stretches as much as it can to accommodate him. His tip barely grazes your cervix, and through your floaty thoughts, you almost wish it was deeper. The groan from Alhaitham as he bottoms out provides you comfort. It can only mean that you’re making him feel good, and that you did manage to have him fit inside you. So pleased with yourself, your pussy clenches around him and coaxes for more, for his cum.

If Alhaitham didn’t have better control of himself, he would’ve cum right then and there. Buried deep inside you, warm velvety walls sucking him in – it’s hard to believe that this is really happening. The person he loves is in his arms, joined with him in the most intimate way known to mankind. He never wants to leave you, leave this, yet his cock begs for friction. Your adorable whine of protest as he slides out a couple inches beckons him to return, and return he does as you let out a sound of pure satisfaction.

“Loveyou,” your words slurred together and fuzzy. “Love, love your cock, please, wan’ more, please?”

Archons, how are you so perfect for him? Alhaitham sets a steady, moderate pace and focuses on you, ensuring that you’re okay and pleased. It seems there’s a permanent grin on your face, even when you gasp or scream, and he’s determined to keep it there. When you seem completely accustomed to his pace, his strokes become longer and more indulgent. “Fuck,” you cry each time he fills you up with more and more of his cock with each stroke. His thumbs rub circles into your clit and drive you closer to your peak – you don’t know if you’re ready to cum yet, or if you want this to end. You don’t, but you’re so close–!

“Such a good girl for me – your little cunny was really made for my cock. There’s no one else for me, just you, pretty girl,” he breathes, seeing the hesitation on your face as your walls clench tighter than before. “I know you’re gonna cum soon, I want to see you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me?”

Anything he asks for, you would go to great lengths to give him what he wants. So if he wants you to cum, then you have to. You nod with a pout on your face, but Alhaitham leans forward, pushing your legs back further as he reaches to kiss the pout away. “That’s my good girl, so perfect.”

He pulls out completely, but why?

Alhaithm grabs and maintains eye contact with you for two agonizing seconds, and then commands you to, “Cum for me.”

And you do just that when he slams his entire length inside you as soon as those words leave his lips.

Alhaitham basks in your scream and sobs, your body convulsing and trembling beneath him, your walls an impossible vice around his cock. He grinds against you to go as deep as he can, “fuckfuckfuck”, and a growl buried in your neck as he cums. In your high, you think you can feel the heat and its spasms of it all, passively wondering what it would feel like to have him cum inside you without a condom. Perhaps one day you’ll be granted a nice little breeding session, but that is neither here nor there.

Alhaitham plants pecks and kisses all over your face, neck, and shoulders, smiling when your little giggles reach his heart. If anything, he’s just happy that everything turned out okay and didn’t end up in a disaster like last time. As he observes the serenity gracing your complexion, he cannot contain his affection any longer.

“Thank you…for having me.” I love you.

Another giggle. “I love you, too, Haitham. A lot.”

You’re kindly gifted a most adoring eskimo kiss. “I need to get you cleaned up, so I need to pull out, okay?”

The pout returns despite your agreement, and Alhaitham spends much needed time to pull out without you breaking. The devil on his shoulder protests otherwise, as it attempts to coax him into keeping you speared on his cock for the night, or more. Your whine of loss tugs at his heartstrings and feeds into his greed, and he embraces you once more to keep you grounded. Slowly, but surely, you return to your senses. Alhaitham is heavy and sweaty against you, but it’s more than you could ask for. A few taps on his shoulder are enough to tell him that you’re back on the same plane of reality with him, and he dives in to kiss you again, painting compliments and praises of how amazing you were along your lips.  

Alhaitham then sweeps you off the bed, into his arms, and takes hurried steps towards the bathroom. You’re like a delicate flower with the way he places you on the toilet, and he reminds you of the importance of peeing after sex. Your privacy is granted when he leaves to remove and tie off the condom to discard it in the kitchen trash can, and later returns with a warm, wet towel. He waits until you’re back in bed and comfortable before he tenderly wipes away any excess fluids and leaves it on your nightstand before cuddling next to you. You turn towards him and burrow into his chest, content as his arms embrace you with an air of security and protection.

He mumbles something into your hair, but you’re out before you can even think to ask what he said.

-

When you finally come to, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well. No tiresome dreams, no sporadically waking up in the night – weeks out in the nature with Lumine had turned you into a light sleeper, and you missed this feeling of being so well-rested.

But the soreness in your thighs screams otherwise, and you wince when they refuse to cooperate. A muscular arm rests around you as if it has always belonged there. At first you question why it’s there, but then your brain decides to wake up and remind you just exactly of what transpired last night. Despite the mixture of shock and embarrassment (mainly at just how wanton you acted), you look up from where you are buried into Alhaitham’s chest. Somehow, you’re surprised to see him already awake. Well, surprised may not be the right word. But the clear adoration in his eyes is unmistakable, seizing and pulling on your heartstrings.

Alhaitham quite enjoys watching you think and process, imagining the fine-tuned gears and cogs in your brain working in overdrive. He remains silent as he smooths out some of the tangles in your hair, and he patiently waits to hear from you. You two had already experienced many hours of quietude before, so this was nothing new for him. There are very few moments in his life when he’s felt this serene and content, half-naked and you pressed against him, both drinking in each other and the light of day coming from your window. He could get used to this. He wants to get used to this.

“You’re making me breakfast in bed,” you decide with your first words of the day, grumbling with a pout on your face. “I don’t think I can walk properly.”

The former scribe arches a perfect silver brow, but the shit-eating smirk stretching along his face is anything but confusion. He knows exactly what you’re implying, and he’s quite satisfied with himself for causing such a situation. Perhaps he should do it more often.

“That I can do,” he agrees, his morning voice deep, yet full of mirth. After a quick kiss on your forehead, he rolls out of bed to do just as you command.

The growl from your stomach prevents you from calling him back because you’re cold now. A shiver runs down your spine as you tighten the blanket and sheet around you, tucking some beneath your chin in an attempt to trap whatever warmth you have left. But when you catch a hint of Alhaitham’s lingering scent, you feel yourself immediately calm down and breathe evenly. The gentle cluttering from your kitchen provides another layer of security as well.

Lost in your basking, you’re quite startled when you feel Alhaitham’s lips on your cheek, a tray in his hands with a light, yet nutritious breakfast arranged. But as you continue to lay there, he can’t help but laugh.

“Do you need help sitting up?”

“No.”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

You do, in fact, need his strength to sit up comfortably against some pillows. The embarrassment hasn’t quite worn off by the time he slides back underneath the sheets to sit next to you, an arm slung over your shoulders as you eat. But in seconds, it dissipates, and is replaced with something akin to love. For you both to finally be here, together as if you two have been dating for years, is exactly the outcome you have been wishing for.

“You know,” he starts before being interrupted by a forkful of food shoved into his mouth, courtesy of you. “You’re a perfect reason why I can finally kick Kaveh out of my home.”

You swat his shoulder with your free hand. “That’s so mean!”

“He can just move in here. I’m not that heartless to leave him homeless. Is that what you think of me?”

You answer without hesitation, “Yes.”

With the hand hanging off your shoulder, his nails scrape lightly in retaliation against the skin beneath your collar bone.

“If I recall, I was pretty fair with you last night,” he murmurs into your hair. “Perhaps I need to remind you just how fair when you’re done with breakfast.”

And you’ve never finished a meal so quickly.

fin.

[iwritefandomimagines]

REGRET — COOPER HOWARD/JOHN HANCOCK

masterlist

part one | part three [coming soon]

pairing: new bf!cooper howard/the ghoul x reader, ex-bf!john hancock x reader

description: you finally head to goodneighbor for a well earned rest… but hancock’s jealousy (and cooper’s possessiveness) might get in the way of that.

warnings: angst, swearing, jealous!hancock this time as well as jealous coop when you talk to him hehe.

author’s note: ok so i didn’t want hancock to be an ass (like that’s my og ghoul bf🤝) so he’s less of a prick than initially intended while cooper is… well… himself. but i hope u enjoy <3 part one linked above and smutty pt.3 coming soooon

———

“Ya sure you’re alright with this, sweetheart?”

Cooper calling you sweetheart had once ignited within you a combination of fear and excitement, never quite knowing whether he was doing so to tease you or with some semblance of affection.

Now, though, it spread warmth throughout your body — a sense of comfort knowing that he cared about you, with sweetheart being just one amongst a myriad other terms of endearment he used for you.

“‘S okay, Coop,” you tightened your grip on his arm where yours curled around it, “I got you, I’ll be fine.”

He hummed, seeming satisfied with your response as he leaned to press a kiss to your forehead, “If he so much as—,”

“He’s not gonna do anything, good or bad,” you shook your head, “He’ll probably just play the hospitable mayor and pretend he don’t know me, if anything.”

Cooper looked down at you now, trying hard to decipher your emotions.

You could tell, even after days of trying to reassure him, that he still had some fear you’d abandon him to return to a life in Goodneighbor once you saw Hancock again.

You leaned in a little closer, head resting on his shoulder as you made your way towards The Third Rail, heaving in a deep sigh at the familiar warmth it brought you.

You fought hard to ignore the stares coming your way, or the mumblings of Hancock’s men as they nodded for you to head on down.

“Alright, darlin’,” Cooper cooed, leading you to the bar, “What’dya want?”

Immediately upon replying (a bourbon, as always) you felt a shadow of a figure appear at your other side, as if he’d had a radar set for your arrival.

Cooper seemed uncharacteristically unaware for a moment as he busied himself ordering from Charlie, all while your former lover’s breath fanned over your neck.

“Well I never,” god, just hearing his voice again made your throat dry up… Even more so when you turned and saw his pained expression, “Didn’t count on ever seeing you here again. Especially not with company.”

The way he spat the last word made you shiver, unused to hearing him speak so harshly to you.

“We’ll be out of here in a few days— we just had a hell of a week,” you swallowed thickly, avoiding catching his intense gaze with yours, “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have—,”

It was now that your travelling companion noticed the other ghoul at your side, a snide grin on his face, “Well fuck me, didn’t take ya long did it?”

Before you looked at him you’d worried this was directed at you — that he thought somehow Hancock’s presence beside you had been invited.

But one glance saw his steely gaze fixed on the man before him, simultaneously threatening as well as mocking.

“Long time no see, Mayor. My sweet lil Y/N over here told me you’d been oh so hospitable last time she was here,” his hand fell to your waist possessively, watching Hancock’s eyes follow the action, “So we’re crashing at the Rexford for a couple nights if it ain’t no trouble.”

Hancock scratched the back of his neck, contemplating how to respond.

“We can leave if you want, John,” you choked on your words as you realised your error, “Mayor.”

“‘S fine, doll,” he bit, forcing a smile for you as he glared across at Cooper, “Welcome as long as you need. Can I speak to you alone for a minute though? Won’t keep ya long.”

You looked over at Cooper, not to seek permission but just to see how the request had gone down with him.

He was less than impressed.

“Is that a good idea?” you whispered shyly, fiddling with your fingers as you eyed the floor.

“Why wouldn’t it be, sunshine?” Cooper’s teasing seemed to have extended to be at your expense now too, and though you knew it was probably just 200 odd years of loneliness impairing his filter — you had to fight back the urge to roll your eyes, “‘S okay. We’ve got a hotel room to ourselves tonight, can’t keep you to myself the whole evening, can I? Much as I can’t wait to get you alone.”

You watched Hancock kiss his teeth — he knew Cooper was just trying to get a rise out of him, but it was certainly fucking working.

He chose to ignore him.

“C’mon, darlin’. Just a minute’s all I need.”

You sighed, “One minute.”

You followed him out of the room, cautious of the privacy you were being afforded as you turned to send Cooper a shy smile.

“How long’d it take you to find him, huh?” his voice wasn’t accusatory, he just sounded sad, “I ain’t trying to start a fight, I just hoped if I saw you again we might make things right. Didn’t expect you to be with someone else.”

You scoffed, “John, you ended things between us and it really fuckin’ hurt. I’m not sure you really get to be jealous or hopeful or whatever this is.”

“I made a mistake, sunshine,” he stepped towards you, “Been layin’ off the chems a little more since you left and I’ve been seeing straighter. I missed you.”

You gulped, feeling bile rise up your throat at his words.

Months ago, you’d most likely have jumped straight into his arms and forgiven him.

Now, it pricked it your heart in a totally different way. While it comforted you to know he’d made a change since losing you, it hurt that he couldn’t have done it sooner.

Besides, you were finally happy again now — Cooper made you happy.

“It’s a little late for that, don’tcha think?” you pouted, “And I know you’re more mad ‘cause he’s a ghoul when that’s like half the reason you decided we couldn’t be together.”

“I just thought— well, think, you deserve better,” Hancock frowned, “I’m just surprised.”

You sighed, “C’mon, don’t condescend me because you’re jealous.”

“I’m not condescending you,” he suddenly looked irritated more than sad as he had before, “You’re travelling around with a fuckin’ bounty hunter who’s bad news when you were—we were happy.”

“I’m happy with my fuckin’ bounty hunter, too,” your fingers made air-quotes as you snapped at him, “Can I remind you again who ended things here?”

“Alright, you’re right. I’m being jealous, but you can’t blame me,” he sighed defeatedly, closing his eyes for a moment contemplatively, “I’m really struggling since I’ve been cuttin’ down on the chems and—,”

You laughed bitterly, “Oh so you only miss me ‘cause you need something else to fixate on?”

“Low blow, huh,” he huffed, “You were the best thing that ever happened to me, sweetheart. I miss you ‘cause you’re you. Just got a clearer mind so can’t do anything to keep you off it now.”

“John…” he was stood closer to you now, and you were trembling under his close gaze, “I’m sorry—you broke my heart for no real reason and this is just—,”

“I’m sorry for treatin’ you like you can’t make your own decisions and— well, I fucked up. I regret it more than I’ve ever regretted anything,” he chuckled at his own words, “And I’ve done a whooole lot worth regretting.”

He drew in a sharp breath as you stayed silent for a moment, waiting for some kind of response that he never received.

You stood silently, biting your lip as you tried to calm your unsteady heartbeat with deep breaths.

He unfolded his arms, raising goosebumps on your skin as his hand rested on your forearm, “Look, Y/N, I ain’t gonna do anything you don’t want, I just had to see if there was any hope—he ain’t just any ghoul, I just don’t wanna see you with the wrong people.”

Before you could reply, you heard a kerfuffle outside, low grumblings of “you can’t go in there” and “wait outside” punctuated by the door swinging open to reveal Cooper.

“The only wrong person for Y/N right now is you, Mayor, so if I were you I’d watch where your hand’s going damn carefully.”

If looks could kill, Goodneighbor would’ve been mayorless in that moment.

Hancock didn’t retract his hand though, only raising his other one to dismiss his men, “Heh, you’ve made a lapdog out of the big bad bounty huntin’ ghoul I see, sweetheart.”

You watched Cooper’s hand rest on his gun at his side, staring at him a wide-eyed.

You knew he wasn’t stupid enough to shoot the mayor and that he was merely trying to threaten him, but it panicked you all the same.

“This here might be your town, but that there is my girl,” okay, his possessiveness could be really hot, “And if ya think I’m gonna let you sweet talk her after breakin’ her pretty little heart? Well, them chems really done fucked up your brain.”

The mayor shook his head, “Oh you’ve made that quite clear, but Y/N’s a big girl and can make her own damn decisions,” he glanced over at you now, “Me and you were happy before I went ‘n’ screwed things up, you can’t blame a man for trying.”

“Well, your mission failed,” Cooper pouted teasingly as he sauntered to your side and hooked your waist to pull you in close to him.

“Oh, ‘m sure you’ve had plenty of them, cowboy,” Hancock laughed through gritted teeth, sad eyes watching you lean into your new partner’s side, “Well, we had some good times sunshine, but I can see you‘ve moved on ‘n’ it looks like I can’t do anything about that.”

You sent him a small smile, looking up at Cooper for a moment to find him watching carefully for your response.

“I’m sorry, John,” you frowned, contemplating reaching out to hug him in a tactile show of forgiveness, “You’re right, things have changed. But that don’t mean our time together meant nothing to me.”

He smiled sadly at you, eyes briefly flickering to send daggers in Cooper’s direction.

You continued, “And I hope us being here don’t cause any trouble now. I’m happy, ‘nd I want you to be as well. We’ll, uh, see you around?”

“I’m glad you’re happy, really,” Hancock cooed, “Even if it’s with him. So yeah, I’ll see you around, gorgeous. Stay safe.”

“You don’t think I can keep her safe?” Cooper challenged, hand on his hip again as he snarled at him.

Hancock scoffed, “For someone so certain she doesn’t want me anymore, you sure are determined to make this a pissing contest, aren’t you?”

“C’mon, this is ridiculous,” you huffed, “I’m right here, for fucks sake. Right now I just need a drink, so if you guys are gonna carry on like this I’ll just go get one on my own, I guess.”

Hancock heaved in a deep sigh, itching for a hit of Jet given all the tension this conversation had left lingering in the room.

He didn’t want to fight over you like a possession, and he knew that really Cooper didn’t either.

“‘M sorry, Y/N,” he stepped back, turning to walk away, “Go on. I’ll see you soon.”

“Wouldn’t count on it,” Cooper hummed, and you nudged his side at the continued warpath he seemed to be on, “Now c’mon sweetheart, we got a hotel room to get to.”

———

ok so this ended with cooper pissing you off in order to make way for makeup sex in part 3 basically hehe. im not sure how i feel so will probs come back to edit but i hope you enjoyed!!! feel free to request more… ive got a fluffy hancock fic almost finished too <3 in the meantime here’s my masterlist. x

[misserabella]

here.

javier peña x fem! reader

synopsis; Javier and you simply fucked when his job took the best of him, to blow up some steam. You were nothing, just really close friends…, right? Maybe the thought of loosing you ‘causes him to finally open up.

warnings; +18 content, minors don’t interact!, arms, guns, mentions of death and terrorism, unprotected sex (GUYD STDS ARE REAL, WRAP THE DONG UP), piv sex, oral sex (f! receiving), kid of rough/desperate sex, cursing, nipple play, fingering, dirty talking, praising, a little bit of angst with fluff at the end, cursing, cream pie, no use of y/n! use of pet names and spanish from Javi<3!

a/n: please remember that english is not my first language! tell me if there are any gramatical errors. hope y’all love it!<3

Javi was a really close friend… And when you meant really, you truly meant it.

You two had gotten to know each other while sharing an office on the police department, and one night that things had wrong and had come to you staying working late, he had touched you in need of a distraction, in need of someone that could understand. And you could understand.

That’s why you let him use you, fuck away senseless his pain, his frustration, his rage…

He fucked into you like you were the only thing left for him to tug on. Kissed you like you were the only bits of oxygen left in the world.

And after that… His need for you became more frequently to this day.

It was late at night when you heard an stressful knocking coming from your door. You rubbed your eyes open, a frown showing on your face when your eyes landed on the clock beside you on the night table. 3:20 AM.

The new knocking had you pulling yourself to your feet, hissing at the cold that stung your feet.

You quickly went to the door, opening it when the knocking only got more intense. You had your gun on your right hand, ready to shoot in case of need.

The gun met the forehead of whoever had woken you up, your hands quickly pushing it away when you met your co-worker’s and leaving it aside.

“Javi?” you called out to him with a confused look. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?” he seemed out of breath, body glistening in the softest sweat. “Ja-“

And as you were about to inquire him once again, he plunged into your home, his warm calloused hands cupping your face to bring you into a searing kiss that had you gasping into his mouth.

You whimpered when he closed the door behind him and quickly pushed you to the wall on your right, his hands roaming your body with the urgency that always came in this situations: He had had a bad day. Maybe a bad week. The thing with Escobar was getting really hard; the bombing, the loss, the deaths, the fear…

Your fingers laced on his hair, and he hummed, thanking you, when you opened your mouth for him.

His hands cupped your breasts from under your silk night gown, letting the lace of your panties show for his angry eyes. Your moaning was angelic.

“Joder.” he had you over his shoulder in less than a second, throwing you onto your bed, making the head broad dent the wall.

“Javi…” you moaned when his lips latched to your neck, his hands back to your tits and his hardened clothed cock pushing against your cunt.

You helped him get rid of your gown, leaving you almost completely exposed to his hungry eyes. His lips sucked on your nipples as one of his hands came down in between your bodies to cup your pussy, a wet patch growing on your panties under his fingertips. You screamed when he pushed the panties aside to let show your beautiful and puffy soaked lips only of him. “Fuck, darling, you’re so wet already…” he muttered against your chest as his fingers dipped and found your clit, making your head fall back and a pornographic moan to leave your lips. “Such a good girl getting all ready for me to fuck, hm?” you nodded, his touch electrifying. “Look at that. She’s swallowing my fingers…” your walls clenched around two of his fingers when he plunged them inside, making your back curl. It was always a stretch, but nowhere like the feeling of his cock fucking you open. “You’re so beautiful baby.” you cheeks reddened at the compliment, a whimper leaving your lips when his kisses trailed down your stomach, a peck being given to the patch of hair on your mound. “Smell so sweet…” your eyes glistened when you saw him take his two fingers inside his mouth, tongue lapping at your juices and making him hum. “Taste so good too. You drive me insane.” you hands flew to his hair when he dove in, sucking on your clit as his fingers started to fuck into you again.

“Fuck, Javi!” he smirked against your cunt when his fingers found that perfect spot hidden in between your gummy walls, his fingers curling in a relentless peace, that has you falling apart under his touch. “Please don’t stop…” you begged, and the hand clutching your right high squeezed your flesh in an assuring way that told you that he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t. Not when you tastes so good and sounded so angelical. Not when he needed you so bad.

It only took a few laps at your clit to had you gushing and coming onto his mouth, making him groan. You moaned as he worked you through it, telling you how perfect you were and how good you were being for him.

When his lips met yours, your tongue tasted your orgasm off his mouth, the kiss sloppy, hungry and needy, spit dribbling down your bottom lip and onto your chin. You were quick to help him get rid of his polo, pants and underwear, freeing his aching cock.

No matter how many times you had seen him it was always a shock to see how big and thick he was, always a stretch to take him when he would part your lips with his bedded head and pushed inside. You always remembered how he had fucked you for the first time, how he had had you sobbing against the table as he whispered a soft ‘Come on, you can take it. Relax for me, that’s it, atta girl.’ against your neck.

You were even quicker to flop on your stomach, your ass up and pussy ready for him to fuck into, since that was how Javier always fucked you, on your fours.

“What are you doing?” he questioned and you frowned as your head tilted backwards.

“Getting ready…?” you send back in the same unsure tone, a squeal leaving your throat when his big strong arms took you to push you down onto your back once again.

“Not tonight, amor. Tonight I need to see you.” he muttered, and before you could open your mouth to inquire him, he was pushing inside.

You cried out at the feeling, the sting of pain that came with pleasure making you reach out for his back, your nails digging on his skin.

He grunted as he slowly pushed more of him inside your tight walls. “That’s it, baby, open up for me.” he whispered onto your ear when your walls started to relax around him and suck him in.

You both moaned when he finally bottomed out, hitting that deep spot that him and only him had ever reached.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, honey, so fucking good…” he muttered as his hips started to snap into you, making your nails go in deeper. “Always so good for me, so pretty… Fuck, fuck,fuck…”

Your whimpers and moans got cut out with every each of his now harsh and quick thrust. You could feel it, feel it in the way he kisses you, in the way he fucked you into the mattress, how there was no space left in between the two of you, how his hands gripped and bruised your hips as he brought you impossibly closer to him…

Don’t leave. That’s what he was trying to say. Don’t die. I need you. Don’t leave.

“I’m here, Javi. I’m here…” you cried out as he fucked into you, tears breaming your eyes at the intensity of your now incoming orgasm. He pushed deeper at your promise. ‘Cause it was a promise.

“Fuck.” he groaned when your walls started to milk him, a scream falling of your lips as he hit your g spot relentlessly. You were dizzy on it, drunk on his skin and his cologne, high on his kisses and his thrusting. “Looking so pretty. Shit.”

“Javi, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” you sobbed and he only sped up, one of his hands moving to roll your clit in between his fingers.

“Come for me, mi amor, come for me.” your ears rang and your vision went white when your new orgasm came crushing down on you, making you scream out his name for the neighbors to hear. “Look at you. Eres mía mi amor. All mine.” “Fuck, you’re getting so tight…” he grunted against your neck as he made a mark there. “Gonna milk me dry…” he fucked you through it, his dick getting coated by your white release, which now painted the brush of hair on the base of his cock. “Gonna cum, baby, fuck.”

“Inside Javi, please…” you begged, and he was quick to paint your walls with his cum, making your eyes roll back at the feeling. You loved it. Loved it when he would come inside, make you his. Mark you as his from the inside out.

You two stood there, riding out your own respective highs in between each others arms. But you knew it wouldn’t last. ‘Cause it never did.

Tears stung your eyes when he slid out of you, making you hiss at the overstimulation. You knew what came next. He would get up, get his clothes and leave without even saying goodbye ‘till the next time he’d come to you, only for it to happen all over again.

You gave him your back, ‘cause you didn’t want to see. And didn’t want him to see you too, crying your heart out after every night he’d fuck you senseless and hugging yourself at the cold that his skin left behind.

But your breath hitched when after the shuffling of clothes, the bed sank under his weight behind you, and your heart stopped when one of his arms surrounded your waist to pull you closer and against his chest.

It was completely silent in between the two of you, only the sound of cars passing by and both your steady breathing filling the silence of the room.

You slowly tuned around in between his arms, his eyes finding yours under the dim light of your salt lamp.

He left a soft and gentle kiss on your forehead, which made your heart flutter and eyes close. You didn’t understand. He had never been like this. He had never fucked you on your back, facing him, never even stayed after it. So what was going on?

You noticed he hadn’t gotten dressed, he had just folded everything back onto the chair of your vanity so tomorrow neither of you would trip on it. Your eyes swelled in tears as you looked at him. And that’s when you saw it, in his eyes. This longing, this love that he has never let himself show you, never letting you look into his eyes as he fucked you, even less as he left you in the middle of the night.

“I’m here, amor. I’m here.” he promised back with a soft smile.

You quickly leaned into the kiss that now his lips planted on your own. It was sweet, slow. A kind of kiss that talked when words weren’t enough. Your hands found his hair and his your hips, bringing you closer, hugging you to his chest. His skin was warm, his body the missing piece of yours.

You let him hold you, let him look into your eyes and pour all the words that he never found himself to mutter on your heart. Let him kiss you, let him mark you, and let him fuck himself back into you once again when he had rose one of your legs over his hips, making you fall apart in between his arms as he whispered beautiful words into the night until the sunrise.

-

hope y’all liked it, love you xx

xxx

[ayyy-pee]

𝐓𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Day 2: Face Fucking

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Profanity bc who do you think I am, Pussy Eating, Face Riding, Face Fucking, DID NOT PROOFREAD SO SORRY FOR ERRORS LMFAO

Summary: Satoru puts his mouth to good use for once.

You may be over Satoru, but Satoru is not and will never be over you. 

❥ Gojo NSFW Week Twitter - AO3 Collection ❥

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

“Why are we doing this again?”

“Because I don’t wanna do the mission. If I win, you gotta do it for me.”

“Satoru…” You groan, exasperated. “Are you really that lazy?”

Your boyfriend grins up at you. “Not lazy, but taking care of a Grade 2 curse sounds like a fucking drag and honestly, it’s a waste of my time.” He folds his hands behind his head, yawning loudly. 

“This is such a stupid bet,” you grumble and Satoru laughs.

“You’re always so tense. Either way, you literally come out on top, so really I’m doing you a favor.”

You cock your head to the side in annoyance, folding your arms over your chest as you glare down at your boyfriend. You wish you could see his eyes through that stupid blindfold he’s always wearing. You’re sure they’re positively glowing with mirth.

Your mind replays the events of earlier today and how you’d ended up in such a compromising position. 

- - - - - -

It should have been a day like any other. You’d teach your classes, maybe take the students on a mission, let them do their thing. Then you’d find Satoru at the end of the day to go home together. But when you’d bumped into your boyfriend coming out of Principal Yaga’s office with a sour look on his face, jaw tight with irritation, you couldn’t help but stop in your tracks to ask what was wrong. 

Your mistake.

“How would you like to gain some experience and maybe earn points with Yaga for a promotion,” Satoru proposed after explaining the situation. His wide, toothy grin shone brightly as he awaited your answer, which came the moment he’d finished asking.

“No.”

“Babe, come onnnnnn,” he whines, grabbing your hands. “Please, it’s an easy mission!”

“Then you do it!”

“I don’t wannaaaaaa.”

“God, Satoru, why are you literally the strongest and laziest person I’ve ever known?” You roll your eyes, pulling your hands from his grip to place them on your hips. Satoru pouts, and you’re grateful you can’t see those baby blues or you may have given in right then. His eyes were his greatest strength when it came to you, and not because of the power he held in them.

“Oh, I’m the strongest lazy person, but Suguru literally quit because he didn’t wanna do missions,” he grumbles under his breath. He crosses his arms over his chest. Satoru stands there, staring you down until you think you can quite literally see the bulb ding above his head. “Okay okay, wait. I have an idea.”

Your eyes narrow, looking your boyfriend up and down suspiciously. You have no idea what he could be up to, but you’re curious, if not a little scared.

“It’s just a bet,” he says as if that’s going to make you feel better. He must see the look of concern on your face because he scrambles to keep talking. “It’s just something we were probably gonna do anyway, but now we can make it a little more exciting.” He holds both his hands up in the air, wiggling his fingers and giggling to himself as though he’s just said the most hilarious thing. 

You’re still waiting for the punchline.

“What is it…” You ask warily…and you regret it immediately when Satoru leans down and brushes his soft lips against the shell of your ear, whispering.

“Let’s make a bet. When we get home, I want you to sit on my face. If I can make you cum in ten minutes or less, you take the mission for me.”

A tingle races up your spine, a slow warmth uncurling low in your belly. You’ve never done that with Satoru before. The thought fills you with excitement. Your lips curl with a smirk and you whisper back, a challenge in your voice. “And if you can’t?”

“Then I guess I’ll do the mission, but something tells me I won’t have to worry about that.” He nips your earlobe, grinning when you yelp. You shove his shoulder, effectively pushing him back. You try to resist smiling when you realize he has his infinity off for you. He always has it off for you. Only you. Such a romantic.

You could always go home and fuck Satoru until the sun comes up like it’s a normal Tuesday night. Or, you could take him up on his offer…and make him suffer a little in the process.

Satoru closes the distance between you and loops his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. “So? Do we have a deal?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to whisper against his lips, “Take us home.”

It’s instant. Space and time bend violently around you and Satoru covers your eyes, holding you tightly against his chest as he warps you both home.

- - - - - -

Now here you are, naked and straddling Satoru’s chest, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about what’s to happen next. Your eyes dart down to Satoru’s phone on the bedside table, the big fat 10:00 timer blinking brightly on the screen. All you have to do is not let him win. You don’t want the mission anymore than he does and he needs to learn he can’t just dump all of his responsibilities on other people. 

Satoru clears his throat, pulling you from your straying thoughts. “As much as I’m absolutely loving the view from down here, we don’t have much time before one of us…” he points only to you, “...has to be on this mission.” You purse your lips, the uneasiness you just felt quickly dissipating. Satoru’s hands find purchase on your waist, gently squeezing. “Look, if you’re worried you’ll smother me to death –” 

“Tempting,” you interrupt, grinning with Satoru frowns.

“Anywayyyy, if you’re worried you’ll smother me to death, don’t worry about it. I’m the strongest.”

You stare blankly at him while he stares amusedly back at you. You’ve heard enough. You scoot forward, your bare cunt hovering over Satoru’s face for a moment before you effectively shut him up, dropping your core right on to his lips. A muffled yelp can be heard from deep between your thighs, Satoru shifting beneath you to try and get comfortable. 

“Clock starts now,” you sing, leaning over quickly to tap the timer on his phone to start. The seconds tick down rapidly, Satoru just as eager as he groans into your center. His hands wrap around your thighs, spreading them further apart for him. His tongue grazes your clit, swirling around the sensitive bud over and over.

You try to stay focused, try to stare straight ahead at the damn headboard because you don’t want to give Satoru the satisfaction of being able to brag that he won. But it just feels too damn good, the way he works his tongue through your folds, how he kneads the soft flesh of your thighs, how he groans into your cunt, clearly enjoying himself.

Satoru gives your pussy one long, broad lick and groans. Your eyes fluttering closed and your head falling back. You bite your lip just as his tongue thrusts between your folds, sucking, licking and biting. Your thighs shake as you struggle to keep your hips from slamming down into Satoru’s face but god it feels so fucking good.

Satoru has always been…gifted in the bedroom. There’s very little he’s not good at and it’s showing now as Satoru’s hands graze along your thighs, around to your ass where his nails dig into your ass cheeks. He pulls you forward, urging you to move.

You roll your hips forward when Satoru gives your ass one last smack. He sucks on your clit, humming as his lips wrap around the bundle of nerves and the sudden choked sob that leaves your lips catches you off guard. 

“Fuck! Satoru, right there. Don’t stop!” You moan, your fingers reaching down to tangle into your boyfriend’s hair. 

Satoru doesn’t stop. He does it again and again until you’re a panting mess atop of him. He grunts into your core, squeezing your ass before smacking it hard. A strangled cry rushes past your lips. Your thighs tremble on either side of Satoru’s head and he chuckles, smacking your other ass cheek and relishing in the way your legs shake again.

Your hips rock back and forth along his tongue, Satoru’s fingers digging into the meat of your ass to push and pull you along his face. He wants you to go faster, go harder, ride his face until you drown him in your cum.

God, he knows what the fuck he’s doing with that annoying mouth of his. You were an idiot for agreeing to his bet because you can already feel the heat pooling in your core as the band inside your belly threatens to snap at any moment.

Satoru’s loving this, you can tell by the needy groans and breathy whines escaping him as he buries himself as deep into your cunt as he can go. It’s so filthy, the way his tongue laps at your core, tasting and relishing every last drop you have to offer. 

You’re panting, leaning forward now to grip the headboard. Satoru stops suddenly, reaching up and pulling his blindfold off of his face to reveal his eyes. He knows exactly what that does to you, that you’ll fall apart in those beautiful orbs that hold all the power of the universe in them. Satoru looks just as beautiful between your thighs, snowy locks spread wildly, his mouth wet with your slick. He kisses your thighs, trailing soft touches all the way up to your center, leaving a gentle peck to your core. Satoru smirks when you roll your hips forward at the contact, then he trails soft kisses back down your other thigh. 

His hands squeeze your ass softly just as Satoru pushes his tongue between your folds again and runs his tongue flat up your core.

“So good, Satoru. Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, voice muffled as he buries his face in your cunt again, licking and sucking your clit while you’re grinding your own hips down on him, pace harder and faster than before. You nod, the only sounds heard being the hushed moans that grow gradually louder as you grind your hips down against Satoru’s face and the lewd slurping of Satoru’s mouth as he laps at your slick cunt.

With one hand, Satoru spreads one of your cheeks. With the other, he easily slips two fingers into your drenched cunt. “Shitttttt,” Satoru moans into your pussy when he feels your pussy clamp down on him. He curls his fingers sharply, smirking when he feels your thighs immediately begin to quiver around his head. You’re so close. There’s no way you’ll make it much longer. “Need your cum, baby. I wanna taste it. I need it.”

You don’t even get a chance to answer him. His fucking phone alarm blares on the table next to the bed, effectively stopping his actions and your orgasm. 

“Fuck.” You lean over and tap the phone, Satoru’s fingers idly pumping into you. You take your position with shit eating grin on your flushed face. “Guess I won –”

Satoru pulls you back to sit on his face, tongue darting out to lap at your soaked pussy.

“Don’t give a fuck about the bet. Need to make you cum,” he mutters into your core, pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt. Your mouth falls open with a silent moan as Satoru wastes no time bringing you to the most earth shattering release of your life.

[mytheoristavenue]

Dude I know you don't have any requests but if you ever feel up to it I would absolutely eat up a continuation of your creature x reader fic...perhaps they slowly fall for each other.

Hes just...he's so sweet and the way you write him makes me feral. I'm definitely going to check out your other works.

This is me letting you know that your target audience had been reached

Normally, I would politely decline or ignore requests, as I just don't enjoy doing them anymore for multiple reasons, but I wanted to address this one specifically. Hopefully this isn't too short!

For the sake of this story, let's pretend that the time between the events of the movie span over a longer period.

LF Creature x Reader - Compost

Summary: Creature helps you out in your garden.

Warnings: mentions of rot, bugs, worms, and dung, creature x reader, bisexual reader, reader has a crush on Lisa, continuation of Mutual Comfort, plot holes, not proofread, spelling/gramatical errors, calling Creature Ein

"You look different today," you noticed allowed, squatted over the flower bed, carefully dropping a marigold from your trowel and covering the roots with soil. "Little more alive."

The man behind you grunted in response, prompting you to glance at him over your shoulder. He seemed to have more color in his face, and his hair seemed less stringy. He lifted a discolored hand, and waved it around as if it were an explaination. You simply shrugged, not understanding the meaning, and went back to what you were doing.

"Regaurdless, I appreciate you helping me." you smiled, standing up and admiring your newly replanted marigolds. Another grunt in responce. "Now I need to mix up the compost pile. Mind pushing that wheel barrow over there?" you aske pointing to the object and then to the destination. Nodding, Creature made his way over.

Once he got behind the wheel barrow, however, he scrunched his face in disgust. "What?" you laughed, slumping your shoulders. "Too good for hard labor? He shook his head, letting go of thehandles and covering his nose. Finally, it clicked for you.

"Oh, come on, you big baby. It doesn't stink tha bad." you rolled your eyes, walking over to simply wheel it over yourself. Seeing you prepared to take matters into your own hands, Creature finally pulled himself up by the bootstraps, taking hold of the handles again and pushing it forward. "Its cow dung, if you were curious," you giggled, following him. "My dad has a friend that owns a far and he hooks me up with free manure for the garden."

Once again, Creature grimaced, turning up his nose. "Hey, Zomboy," you scolded playfully. "Your half rotted flest doesn't smell all that much better." He flashed you a hurt expression coupled with a somber groan, making you back peddle. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

Finally in front of the compost pile, you grabbed a nearby shovel and began to heave the dung onto the top, the smell never once bothering you. When you were finished, you stuck the shovel in the ground and rested a foot on it, hiking your knee up, and glued your hands to your hips, tired from a hard day's work.

"I don't know about you, but I think today is a good day for some lemonade." You sighed, beginning to walk back toward the house, Creature trailing behind you. "You like lemonade?" He nodded when you glanced back, prompting you to smile. "Go ahead and take a seat," you said, motioning to the patio set to his right. "I'll go get us some."

After a few minutes, you returned, slipping out the back door and into the yard, a glass in each hand, but your eyes lit up before you couven step off the patio. You quickly scurried over to set the glasses down, gushing over what he had. It was a lovely little hand picked bouquet, mostly consisting of wildflowers and weeds. In the short time you were gone, Creature had taken it upon himself to currate you a gift. "Ein..." you breathed, taking it from him and examining it. "You did this for me...?" you asked, oblivious to how silly the question was. He nodded with a timid smile, inviting you to sit with him.

After a moment, your heart dropped, realizing what you'd called him by. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry I called you that!" you fretted. "Lisa told me that was the last little bit of your name, I sholdv'e asked if you'd be kay with being called that."

He seemed to wave your worries off, shaking his head, signalling tha he wasn't bothered. He then bowed his head, something that confused you. "So you are okay with me calling you Ein?" He bowed again, and you were unable to keep the grin from spreading across your face. "Okay, Ein it is then. I suppose we couldn't have just called you 'Creature' forever, right?" He shrugged, as if he truly didn't care what his name ended up being. "Regardless, thank you for the flowers, they're beautiful."

The man couldn't help but stare as you admired the little nosegay, noting how eyes eyes lit up when you smiled and your nose scrunched when you laughed. He actually found himself so invested in observing you while sipping his lemonade that he choked a little when your eyes flitted back to him.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" you suddenly jumped up, patting his back as he coughed, hunched over. "Ein? Ein! Are you okay?" you panicked, patting a bit harder, and wondering if the heimlick would even work on a corpse. Luckily, that deemed to be unnessisary as he finally spat up whatever was clogging his airway.There on the table, squirmed a very long, slimy earthworm.

"I-Is...is that a worm?" you grimaced, entirely freaked out as you stared at it, eyes flickering back to his every few seconds. Creature was frozen in place, terrified he'd ruined a lovely moment between the two of you, and slapped his hand over the thing, shaking his head no. "You're telling me I didn't just watch you spit up a worm onto my dad's patio table? You're telling me if I move your hand, there's not gonna be a worm?"

Hesitantly, he shook his head with a nervous smile, resisting as hard as possible when you grabbed his hand to move it. Though you had no time to think about it then, you couldn't help but notice the way the stitches holding his hand on felt under your finger tips- definately an interesting sensation.

Finally, you managed to lift his hand up, still holding it, and proved yourself right, once again staring at the wiggly little thing on the table. With a sigh, and ignoring his protests, you reached down and lifted it into your palm. "Got anymore?"

Creature sheepishly shook his head and got up to follow you as you walked away. "Well, this little guy is going in my compost pile." you decided, pinching the worm out of your palm and setting it on top of the pile. "And if it has any buddies in there, they're welcome to the pile too." you smiled, grabbing his hand again.

"I like you," you confessed with a giggle. "A few little bugs aren't gonna scare me away."

I hope this was along the lines of what you were looking for! Sorry it was so rushed, it probably has a million errors, as my gramarly is suddenly not working!

[kylelovskii]

the real question is Kyle more or less of a lil shit once he gets the girl? like you can't tell me that boy doesn't own a remote controlled vibe... -mk anon

this request is so old but IDC!!!!

and he does. 100%.

i wrote this half asleep so im sorry if it sucks and if there’s errors

“cmon, pretty thing. just once? i promise i won’t use it much, and if i do, i won’t turn it up so high.”

liar. fucking liar.

kyle had sweet talked you into putting a vibrator inside yourself, then going to a party with all of the guys. he promised he wouldn’t turn it on very much, he just wanted to test it out, and you believed him, which is why you let him. but you were so, so wrong.

—

there you stood, talking with wendy and bebe. everything was going perfect, and you really thought kyle had just forgotten about it, but then you felt the slightest sensation between your legs go to not so slight.

your hand flew to your mouth, which caused wendy to stop mid sentence and look at you. “hey, are you okay? you look like you’re about to be sick,” she asked. you nodded frantically. “yeah—yes! ah— i just— um..got a sharp..c—cramp in my stomach. i’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you replied before rushing off, trying not to let whines and whimpers escape from your mouth.

you rounded a corner into a hallway where, thankfully, no one was. you sighed loudly, sinking down to the floor. “oh god, kyle— stop, stop, stop…”

“what’s that? stop what?” you heard a voice come from down the hall. you snapped your head into the direction of the noise.

there kyle stood, his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants and his glasses perched upon his nose. you looked him up and down, noticing how his white wife beater hugged his waist perfectly.

“you— you said you wouldn’t do it much. and that if you did— it wouldn’t be so high!” you said, not even bothering to stand up and go to him. instead, he came to you and knelt down, taking your chin in his hand. “oh, i guess i tricked you. poor girl.”

then he grabbed your hand and pulled you up. “why don’t we go back to the party, huh? i think our friends miss us. i don’t think it would be very polite to abandon everyone just so i could toy with you,” he said as he led you back to the group he was originally with. as you walked, the vibrations slowly came to a halt. when it stopped, you sighed in relief.

kyle held your hand as he spoke with cartman, the two of them bantering while kenny and stan just listened, laughing at the smart remarks that came out of one of the others mouth. you listened as well, letting out a giggle or two, but then kyle turned the toy to its highest setting.

your knees almost buckled underneath you, and you let out an audible gasp which turned into a whine. “oh, honey, what’s the matter?” kyle asked, rushing to your aid. you gave him a look, then lied and said, “my stomach hurts, kyle.”

everyone looked at the two of you confused, but then kyle excused the both of you so he could 'help you'.

he dragged you into a bathroom, locked the door, then picked you up and set you on the counter. he forced your legs open, then moved your panties to the side to look at your glittering cunt.

your skirt bunched up at your stomach as he kneeled between your legs. he didn’t do anything, he just looked up at you and dirty talked you.

“see? look at you. you’re such a good girl, but i bet you’d rather me do this in front of all our friends. especially cartman, huh? that right, doll?” you shook your head quickly, telling him no.

“awh, baby don’t deny it. you may be a good girl for me, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a little slut, right?” you shook your head again, whining and squirming, trying to close your legs. “no— nonono!”

“come on, take it for me. i know you can. be a good whore and take it. quit tryin' to close your legs,” kyle said, keeping your legs open with both his hands.

“please— i..oh god—” you groaned before your orgasm washed over you, your legs twitching and your hands flying to kyle’s hair.

as you came down from your high, you heard kyle speak, “wow that was quick. good job, baby. come on, i’ll clean you up and get that thing outta you,” he told you, helping you off the counter, then sitting you down on the toilet seat and running the water in the sink.

[percervall]

one day I’ll forget about it (knowing it probably isn’t true)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader Words: 2129 Request: Carlos Sainz + boygenius - Cool About It Warnings: angst? heart break, mentions of a break up, mentions of the shitshow that is Ferrari 2022/2023

In which you're trying to be cool about it

---

The thing no one talks about when it comes to grief is that it’s not only a side effect of death. Or at least not of death in the sense of a finite ending of a person. Because when it comes to grieving the end of a relationship, there is no finite ending; There is no closure, no matter how much you talk things through and dissect the whys and hows of the ending. There is no closure, you discovered, because while you were left reeling and dealing with what felt like the loss of a limb, he moved on –moved away. 

Perhaps that was something to be grateful for. Not having to see him at every event in the lives of your overlapping friend groups made it more bearable to pick up the pieces, to smooth over the jagged edges of you he left in his wake as he tore himself away. You had almost convinced yourself that you were okay, when your best friend mouths an apology as you lay eyes on him entering the pub –Carlos. You give her a tight-lipped smile to convey you are fine while you watch him walk to where your group of friends is sitting. You almost hate him then –almost being the operative word. He looks good, hair tousled as usual and dressed in jeans and a knit polo. Conveniently for you, your wine arrives and you can busy yourself with taking a sip as he greets everyone. During the rest of the evening you try your hardest to avoid interacting with him unless you really have to. Of course this leads to some funny looks from Lando, who’s become the centre of what used to be the Venn-diagram of you and Carlos and has remained a close friend after the split. I’m trying, you want to tell him, he has broken me beyond repair, but you do what you do best and hide behind the stereotypical stiff upper lip.

The text comes a couple of weeks later. Lando sends you the link to an article and the preview of it is enough to leave him on read. In hindsight you should have expected nothing less from him when your phone rings later that night; Lando is nothing if not persistent.

“Have you read it?”

“Hello to you too,” you deadpan as you settle on the couch.

“Sorry. Hi, have you read it?”

“Lando-..” you start, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“No don’t give me that,” he interrupts, “Read the article and then please ring me back. Just-.. Please?” 

“..Fine.” You finish the call and click on the link. Taking a deep breath you begin reading a chronological account of the 2022 season that reads like a comedy of errors. At first you’re not sure why Lando sent you this; They won podiums, sometimes even in P1, but the further you scroll down, the more you realise just how much things have taken a turn.

“What do you want me to do with this?” you ask Lando as soon as he picks up. 

“He is struggling a lot. This season is even worse. I need you to understand that he is not fine, not by a long shot. You may think that he has moved on but he hasn’t.” 

“Lando, he broke up with me. I might not remember much from that time, but I distinctly remember you letting me cry into your hoodie for days on end that winter. How is this my problem?” You can’t help the bitter tone of your voice.

“Because once upon a time he had someone in his corner. This second fiddle role is gonna break him. I know he fucked up, that he broke your heart, but please I am begging you, you were the only person who could get through to him. Please help me help my friend?” 

“If -and it’s a big if- I say yes, I’m only doing so because I love you.”

“I will be forever in your debt,” Lando replies and you can pick up on the desperation in his voice. Things must have gotten really bad if he offers you a carte blanche like this. 

“Just-.. Get me one of Daniel’s t-shirts and a sweater and we’ll call it even.” 

“We’re flying to Hungary together, why don’t you join? I’m sure he’d love to give it to you personally.” You sigh, flopping back onto the couch and as you stare up at the ceiling, you agree to his plan. A part of you wonders whether you’re just a glutton for punishment. Who’s to say Carlos even wants you there? Only one way to find out, you think and drag yourself to your bedroom to start packing. 

The flight to the Hungarian Grand Prix goes by a lot quicker than you had anticipated. It helps that you haven’t seen Daniel for months and the two of you have a lot of catching up to do. For a moment you forget why you’re even at the track in the first place when you keep being stopped by the other drivers on the grid for a quick chat, but that all comes to a screeching halt when Charles spots you. 

“Oh thank God,” he breathes and pretty much sags into your arms as he hugs you. You have no time to respond or ask questions before he leads you to Ferrari hospitality, Lando in tow. As you sit outside, sipping your coffee, Charles tells you just how messed up things have gotten at Ferrari, how while Charles is fortunate to have the entire force of the Tifosi behind him, Carlos doesn’t share that same protection. You can see the pain in his eyes at not being able to fulfil his godfather’s dreams and the weight of that on his shoulders.

“I have tried everything, but he has shut me out completely. Will you please talk to him?” 

“Charles, why do you think he will listen to me? I-.. I am no longer part of his life, he made sure of that,” you all but whisper.

“Because he is still in love with you,” Charles says and it feels like someone has pulled the rug out from under you. 

“It’s true,” Lando offers, “Not a month has gone by where he hasn’t asked me how you were. I get that you don’t believe us. Hell, I wouldn’t believe it either if I were you.” You stare into your coffee cup, swirling the dregs of your espresso around not too dissimilar to how their words are swirling around in your head. 

“Please, just-.. Please, will you try and talk to him?” Charles asks you again, desperation evident in his voice and eyes when you finally look up at him. You don’t trust yourself to speak, so all you can do is nod. Relief floods both their faces and you brace yourself a little to see him again for the first time in months. Charles leads you upstairs to the driver rooms, leaving Lando behind who promises he’ll wait for you. Rupert and Caco are seated on the same floor, both shooting you a hopeful look as you pass them on your way to Carlos’ room. Charles knocks quietly, pushing the door open ever so slightly.

“Not now,” Carlos bites back.

“Mate?” Charles calls out in the hopes he will turn around. Whatever insult Carlos was about to hurl his teammate’s way, dies on his lips when he sees you in the door opening. 

“Hey,” you offer quietly. Charles whispers that he’ll be downstairs if you need him, squeezing your arm as he leaves you behind. Carlos can’t stop staring at you, mouth slightly agape and eyes round. 

“Hey,” he finally manages as you step into the room, sliding the door closed behind you and leaning against it.

“What-.. How-..?” he tries to ask, struggling to get a coherent sentence out.

“Lando. He’s worried about you. So’s Charles. I’m a last resort apparently,” you try to joke, but the nerves make it impossible for you to keep your tone teasing. Carlos sighs and slumps down on a chair as he mulls this over. It allows you a moment to look at him, to really look at him. His hair is a mess, which is not uncommon for him, but you can tell he has been running his hands through it in frustration. His stubble is slowly edging towards unkempt rather than rugged, and there’s a sadness and exhaustion in his eyes that makes you ache for him. 

“Carlos..” you start, stuffing your hands in your pockets to refrain yourself from reaching out to him. He looks up at you, tears threatening to spill.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice breaking, “I’m sorry. I hurt you and pushed you away and I am so sorry.” 

“Why?” you whisper.

“I thought-.. I thought that it would be for the best. When the call came that Ferrari wanted me, I was so excited but I could never ask you to give up everything for me. So I figured this was for the best, that letting you go was for the best. God, was I wrong…” Carlos all but whispers that last part but the pain is tangible. 

“We could’ve made it work. Had you talked to me, we could’ve figured out a solution. You didn’t have to do this all on your own.” You want to be angry at him, unleash the heartache you’ve had to bottle up for the last three years, but instead your heart breaks for the man you once loved –the man you still love, despite it all. 

“I never stopped caring about you,” you say, not daring to look at him out of fear of seeing any ounce of hope in those brown eyes that once offered you so much solace, “I probably also didn’t stop loving you which made it so much harder to see you out there, living your dream while I was left with a gaping hole in my chest. Seeing you at the pub that night made it so much worse. You seemed so confident, so carefree, whereas I had barely managed to put my heart back together only for it to fall apart all over again. I’m not saying I forgive you, but I understand now, or at least somewhat understand why you thought you had to do what you did. It will take time for us to figure out where we stand, but in the meantime I can at least offer you friendship. I’ll be here all weekend, you have Lando to thank for that. If you need someone to talk to outside of this circus, I will be in the McLaren motorhome.” 

“Thank you,” Carlos whispers, “I know it doesn’t fix or prove anything, but I also never stopped loving you. I have been anything but okay, guess I was just good at pretending I was. The races kept me distracted from the pain at first, but now it’s only adding to it. I don’t know how much more of this I can take…” He looks up at you, tears threatening to spill. You step closer and he allows you to pull him into a hug, face buried against your chest and arms wrapped around you, almost as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on for dear life. All his worries come tumbling out, about how he’s had to become both driver, strategist and race engineer during the weekends, how the team prioritising Charles again and again has begun to put a strain on their friendship and how the media’s commentary on said treatment is only making things so much worse since it has put both of them in a loop of damned if we do, damned if we don’t, how his dad continuously commenting on his future has made it difficult to even be in the same room as the man he once called his hero. You listen to it all, rubbing your hand up and down his back, easing the tension out of his muscles. When Carlos has run out of tears and words, you lift his face so you can look at him, brushing your thumb across his cheekbone.

“That’s a lot to carry, Carlos, but you’ve got people in your corner. I will always be in your corner, no matter what. How about you take a nap, I will still be here when you wake up and we just take it one step at a time, okay?” Carlos nods and you see the tiniest glint of hope in his eyes that is mirrored in the tiniest spark in your heart, that maybe this –all of it and any of it– is not beyond salvation just yet.

Yeah, so this kind of took on a life of its own? I don't know man, I listened to the song on repeat and started thinking about the different ways we can grief and how sometimes appearances function as a shield to deflect from how you're truly hurting and suddenly I was over 2k into a fic that was supposed to be a blurb? Oops? If you'd like even more heartache, most of this was written while listening to Bon Iver's re:stacks

Massive thanks to @moneyymaseyy for letting me talk through the plot and being my beta reader

Please, feel free to let me know what you think, your comments, tags, and likes mean the world to me 💜