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cno-inbminor · 1 year

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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.

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact

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fuctacles · 2 months

Note

sports au!!!!!

The booth was stuffy and smelled like it’s been forgotten for a decade. But the equipment was new and the glass pane was cleaned up, giving Eddie a clear view of the court.

“Is this a good moment to say I don’t know the rules?”

The coach, and his PE professor, looks one step away from murder.

“Just remember our team is wearing green.”

“Yes sir!”

The man squints at him with clear distrust so Eddie gives him his widest, purest smile.

“Good thing nobody’s listening to the campus radio.”

The joke’s on him; Eddie has garnered a lot of listeners over the past months. Listeners that he might lose after hosting a live sports event.

“Don’t be too weird. I might send you someone to help with the rules so you don’t completely ruin it.” He pats Eddie on the shoulder, his palm so heavy it feels like he’s trying to pin him into the chair, before disappearing behind the door in the back. Seconds later he’s visible walking down the steps to his team.

Eddie looks at his watch. It’s going to be the longest four hours in his academic history.

He turns to the concsole, frowns at the unfamiliar dials and switches and focuses on the ones he knows. Tunes everything to his best ability, takes a breath, and clears his throat before starting the broadcast.

“Hello, students of Indiana University! I know it’s a Friday night and you were hoping for some nice tunes to party to, but prepare your pillows for a nap instead because you’ll be listening to a football match. No, wait, basketball. I’m pretty sure.

Anyway, dunno why you’d listen to a match instead of going to see it, but ya boy needs to pass PE this term so here we are.

And here comes our team! The green ones. It’s greens against blues tonight, folks.”

“Tigers versus Roaches, actually.”

Eddie turns around and sees a tall boy enter his studio.

“First of all, who the fuck names their team Roaches. Second, we have an intruder in the studio.”

The boy extends his hand unfazed.

“I’m Lucas, your interpreter. Since I’m benching for the first half anyway.”

“Booo, I was just going to make up rules as I go. Now you’re gonna make it boring.”

But he shakes his hand anyway and lets Lucas sit on the chair next to him.

“Careful, I’m a dedicated listener. My friends too, you’d probably lose your whole audience.” He smirks. Eddie scoffs.

“I’ll let you know, tiger cub, that many people listen to Munson’s Midnight Metal Madness.”

“I meant the DnD show.”

Eddie looks at the boy, his neat haircut and team jersey.

“Really?”

“Yes, and I’d love to talk more about it later, but now let’s introduce my teammates.”

Eddie hands him the microphone to spit out names he’s never heard before and whatever their bearers' positions were. He hopes the coach doesn’t mind it. All Eddie could do was like, comment on their appearance. Which…

“Where did you get that one from? America’s poster boy catalog?”

He watches Lucas’s face twitch with the effort not to laugh.

“That’s Jason Carver. He’s vice-captain now and will take over the team once Steve graduates later this year.”

“Which one’s that?”

“He usually comes out last.”

Eddie asks about the important stuff - the team's average height and where Andy got his haircut. He looks over the group of young men appraisingly.

“You know what, if I knew y’all play in these funky white socks and guns out I might have gotten into sports commentary earlier.”

Lucas chuckles, but Eddie's on a roll.

“Especially with such a great co-host, Lucas Sinclair! He’s not on the court yet but he’s being an invaluable source of lore in the studio. Don’t think I’d forget about you, man.” He nudges the younger student. “What’s your specialty on the team?”

“Well…” Lucas scratches his cheek sheepishly. “I’m probably the fastest and my throws are pretty good,” he admits. “Oh, that’s Steve!”

Eddie looks to the right, where a dude with Harrington on his jersey walks in, smiling wide to friends and families watching.

“Damn, that’s some magnificent hair,” Eddie whistles.

“Yeah, that’s kinda what he’s known for. This hairdo lasts through the whole game, dunno how he does it.”

“He’s gotta give me some tips, because I look like a wet rat by the end of the day. And I don’t even do sports.”

“I’m pretty sure you look like a wet rat no matter the time of day.”

The jab was true but even if it wasn’t, Eddie had a more important thing to focus on right now.

“Does your captain have a tattoo?” he asks, squinting through the window. He was pretty sure it was ink that was peeking from the bottom of Steve Harrington’s shorts, but it was so out of place on a college athlete, he needed a triple take and the ‘ask the audience’ lifeline to make sure.

“Yep. The coach says it makes him look like a criminal,” he snorts, showing what he thinks about it. “Steve said he regrets not getting it somewhere more visible so more people could see tattoos are not for criminals and rockstars only.”

“Your captain is a smart guy,” Eddie grins, almost sighing into it, to his utter horror. Just a glimpse of a hot guy from afar, a peek of a tattoo, and hearing of his liberal views was apparently enough to make his heart beat faster.

“The best I ever knew,” Lucas admits and it sounds like a Story, capital “s” and all. His next words confirm that. “Our friend group is planning matching tattoos and we are still talking him out of getting it above the neckline.”

Eddie barks out a laugh.

“Sounds like a savage. I gotta meet your captain sometime soon.”

It’s at this point they notice the coach gesturing at them angrily and they get back to commenting on the game that’s about to start.

“Okay, so explain to me which laundry basket is ours…”

“Okay okay okay. So number four is a tank, yeah? He blocks the other players. Six is a rogue, who slips between the cracks. And number one, your captain, is a warrior who goes for the attack.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It’s like LARPing for normies,” Eddie realizes in awe and Lucas laughs so unexpectedly he starts to cough.

“Sinclair! You’re in!”

They both jump at the sudden appearance of the coach. Lucas springs up from his seat.

“Yes sir!”

“It was a pleasure to host with you.” Eddie smiles at his new friend.

“You too. Catch you after the game?”

“Sure.” He smiles brightly, his head already swimming with ideas of how to fuck over Lucas’ future DnD character. Because playing together was inevitable, the dice were thrown, and the plot was in motion.

Lucas passes by the coach who now turns his attention to Eddie.

“You’re doing good, don’t ruin it.” He looks in pain admitting that. “I might send someone else to help you out.”

“Thanks, coach.” Though Eddie doubts he’d be vibing so well with anyone else on the team.

Just five minutes later though, he’s proven wrong.

“Heard you’ve been curious about my tattoo?”

Eddie's so startled he knocks the microphone down and yanks out the cord in his haste to turn around.

“Captain!” he yells like a dumbass, faced with the hair and boyishness of no one else but Steve Harrington.

“Radio-man!” Steve yells back with a wide and teasing smile. “I’ve heard so much about you, man, you have no idea.” He steps closer. “My kids love your show.”

“Your kids?”

“My, uh, younger friends. I used to babysit them and it kinda stuck,” he admits with an awkward smile. Steve is nothing like the typical jock he’s come to expect and he’s everything Lucas advertised.

“That’s adorable, man.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” he pouts. He honest to god pouts.

“Not laughing!” Eddie raises his hands placatingly. “There’s nothing bad with a family-tight friend group.”

“Damn straight.” Steve smiles and sits on the chair vacated by Lucas. He eyes the microphone lying prone on the desk. “Technical difficulties?”

Eddie rushes to fix his equipment.

“You could say so,” he murmurs, trying to busy himself with the tangled cord. But a hand stops him before he can plug it in.

“We’re off the air now, right?”

Eddie looks over the control lights on the console.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You have beautiful eyes.”

“What?”

When Eddie woke up today, he knew his day would be weird. No day spent in a sports facility could be normal or pleasant. It was confirmed when he made a new friend with a member of the team, who was a listener of his DnD podcast. But the team captain hitting on him? That’s not your regular weird, that’s a bad strain of weed kind of weird.

“Lucas sent me over claiming a guy my type might be hiding here.”

It takes everything from Eddie not to take a look around. Logically, he knows there’s no one else in the booth. But his brain refuses to connect the dots. He licks his lips and cringes at the wet noise his mouth makes.

“What’s your type?”

Steve tilts his head and hums like he’s in thought.

“Weird, smartass nerd, as it turns out. With big brown eyes and great hair.”

“Uh, thank you?”

Steve only smiles at him, soft before it turns teasing.

“Wanna see my tattoo up close?” he offers.

“Gosh, yes,” he admits with zero shame, eyes flitting down to the man’s legs. Was he curious about what type of tattoo a gorgeous sport-type guy would get? Yes. Did he want to ogle some hairy thighs? Also yes. It’s a two-in-one kind of deal.

The coach waves at them angrily to get back on the air, but Steve promises to tell him everything about S.S. Robin after the game. And no, Robin is just his best friend, Eddie doesn’t need to worry about her.

“In fact, wanna be my date to the after-party later? The kids will freak out when they meet you.”

How could Eddie say no to his fans' worship?

And to Steve’s hopeful eyes and the slight squeeze he gave his hand.

“Mingling with jocks in my free time?” Eddie turns his palm up to squeeze back. “Sure, let’s make this day even weirder.”

#steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #mine #ff #stranger things 4 #steddie fanfiction #st #request #one shot #college au #sports au #radio host eddie #ive had this idea for months and it finally got an outlet #steddie fic

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brailsthesmolgurl · 26 days

Text

WARDROBE MALFUNCTION!

A smol bird requested for this to be written and so here I am, playing fairy godmother! If any of you have any sort of requests, just drop me a dm as I am revived from my death and ready to write more delulus as your solulus!

Context: What happens when your outfit decides NOT to cooperate with you? What will the boys do for you?

Disclaimer: This one-shot is created with me studying their lore on various websites and social media so that I could get a better idea on what colours they like/represent and what style they lean towards. Some of you may disagree but its okay! You can read it as it is and add in your own imagery of a suitable outfit by your hubbies! Warnings: Fluff that might rot your brains.

RAFAYEL

"I am almost done with this piece," Rafayel spoke, eyes still glued to his canvas, one hand holding up his messily stained colour palette, while the other held the brush as he drew strokes across the canvas. "Why don't you go and get changed as you wait for me to finish off this bit, yeah?"

"Yes sir." You quirkily replied and you stood up, spotting him sending you a teasing look given the way you addressed him. Earlier on, some strangers had came by Rafayel's mansion with Thomas to deliver some clothes. Apparently, these clothes are custom made by those luxurious brands specifically for Rafayel. Thomas addressed it as this was one of the ways the luxury brands show their support towards Rafayel's works. ONE OF THE WAYS... At this point, you are convinced that Rafayel is a huge deal and having luxurious brands begging on their knees to work with him sounded like a dream that would never come true to you.

The dress that sat on the bed was delivered for you as well, as per Rafayel's request. There was objection amongst the team that were handling the sponsorship and ambassador deals for the brand. But Rafayel spoke through the phone like he owns the company. "If she does not get a gown, then our business ends. Right now." He hung up abruptly, and the next thing he knew, the dress showed up at his door in less than 30 minutes.

Any brands, regardless luxurious or not, knows the right way and only way to please Rafayel. One wrong move and you are off the chart and some other brand may easily replace you. Hence, nobody dares to mess with Rafayel. Except for you. "The dress on the bed is yours!" He shouted from the living room and you picked up the dress.

The chiffon textured dress is of a forest green colour, going all the way down to your ankles. The strapless design made you gulped as you are not used to outfits of this measure, given the nature of your work, whereas your attire has to be 'appropriate for work in times of need'. Touching the inner material, you sighed in relief as you realised that there was bra padding for you hence you do not have to go all the way out to get a new bra just for this event.

Putting on the dress and zipping it up was easy, and you fit almost perfectly into the dress. The keyword being ALMOST. As you lifted your hands up, the dress started sliding down like it is a floatie on a wet water slide and woop, off it went and onto the ground. You panicked, bending down in one fell swoop and trying to gather the dress so that you can pull it up to your chest again.

But it does not let you go past the waist area unless you unzip it. Groaning, you struggled to find the zip as the dress is really puffy and you did not want to ruin the designer dress. "Is everything okay?" Rafayel stood at the doorway, leaning against the side of his door, as he watched you with amusement written all over his face. He has been standing there for quite a while hasn't he?

You gasped, pulling whatever that is on the floor to cover your chest area and he walked over, analysing the dress and scowling when he found out the reason. "I should have gotten them to measure you instead of just bringing you a standard fit." He took his phone out of his pocket and tapped on the screen a couple of times. His eyes looked back at you and you bit your lip in embarassment. "Your curves are way too beautiful to be hidden amongst this pile of leaves."

His comment made you giggled. Guess he has the same thought as you. "Toss the dress aside darling, I will get you a new one." Another few taps of the finger, he shows you the dress he has in mind. A purple dress with extravagant sleeves, puffing out like how a jellyfish would and you instantaneously knew why he opted for this dress. "I like purple better anyways."

"But wait Rafayel... this dress is not entirely scrap, maybe I can sew a temporary knot on it to tighten the top so it won't fall off. And there is really no need for you to get another custom one for me as we are running out of time." Your suggestion made him stare at you, purple-blue pupils blown wide as if he has really just witnessed a shark eating grass. iykyk.

He walked over and grabbed you by your waist and pulled you close to him, so close that you could hear the sound of his heart against yours. But at this moment, maybe he could hear yours louder than his. "Nobody can put a price on your love for me. EVER. But, I can sure as hell throw out any price on anyone, regardless the amount, as a representation of how much you worth to me." You looked away immediately, eyes stared at the arms that were holding you in place. He kissed your forehead, chuckling, before he pressed his phone against his ear. "Now, let's see who can make this dress for the price I am willing to pay in 30 minutes time." he makes me feel something

ZAYNE

You waited on a bench in front of Akso Hospital. You figured it would be a great idea to wait for Zayne as he finishes work early today and you might be able to grab dinner with him. You were mindlessly scrolling through your phone, looking through your daily for-you-page before a shadow loomed over you. You looked up and no doubt, it is Zayne aka the great and almightly Elsa.

"How long have you been sitting here?" He asked you, before handing you a candy that he had fished out from the pocket of his trench coat. "I was planning to meet you slightly later at your condo." The thought of him initially wanting to surprise you made your heart fluttered. You see, Zayne is a more upfront guy so having him to plan surprises are one of the uncalled scenarios.

"I had only been here for a couple of minutes." You lied, taking the candy out of his palm and unwrapped it before you tossed it into your mouth. The raise of his eyebrow towards you made your breath hitched as he knew you too well that you could not lie to him in his face. "Fine, I had waited here since 5pm." This made Zayne looked down at his wrist watch.

"So it's been an hour and 15 minutes?" He side eyed you and you admitted it by nodding your head. "Next time, it would be better if you were to just wait for me at home. If it wasn't for a full deck today at the hospital, I might just be covering shifts for other people and that might be inconvenient for you." But, he himself actually noticed you exactly an hour and 15 minutes, from his office's window, before his upcoming surgery. He had another three surgeries lined up for the night, but fearing that you may end up waiting the whole night for him, he decided to cancel his schedule for the night and transfer the case to other doctors. Even workaholics take a break. iykyk

"But I just wanted to come over to check up on you. I even chose to sit outside so that you would not be distracted as you are working." You pouted, hands picking at the hem of your shirt. You felt Zayne's hand landed on the top of your head, a gesture of love and comfort. He patted and smoothed your brunette strands back and you stared up at him. "I shall wait for you at home next time okay?"

"Now that's a good girl." killmeplease Zayne smiled warmly. "Now, lets get you back alright? My car is parked right by the road side. Come on." Hands around your waist, he slowly walked you over to his car. The smell of his cologne lingered on your nose, the smell of mint and dashes of cinnamon. Just like his personality, icy as mint but warm and welcoming as cinnamon once you get to know him.

He opened the car door for you and as you walked over to get into the car, your shirt got hooked against one of the metal wires that went astray from the metal fencing and the next thing you heard was the sound of a ripping cloth. You yelped as you stumbled and Zayne slotted himself right in front of you, shocked as well and using his body to block you from falling further. "Oh my..." Your cursed under your breath as your hands were against his washboard abs, steadying yourself. doublekill

He guided you into the car slowly before getting into the driver side himself. When he had started the car and turned on the air conditioning, he turned to look at you. "How bad is the rip?" He asked and you lifted the hem of your shirt, showing the rip that is around 4cm long.

"Why does this have to happen to one of my favourite shirt?" You frowned, fingers won't stop touching and fidgeting with the ripped edge.

"Do they still sell this shirt?" Zayne asked, hands reaching over to tug against the shirt, as if to examine the material of the outfit. The shake of your head made him sigh and he gestured to the glovebox. "Open the glovebox and take out the black pouch please."

You did as you were told and you watched in confusion as he took off his trench coat and placed it onto your lap. The coat still radiating warmth that was collected off of his body heat. He opened the black pouch and laid it flat on the arm rest of his car, and inside of the pouch was an array of threads and needles. "Are these suture needles?"

"Yes." His response was prompt. "Take off your shirt and hand it to me please." He requested and you gulped. Using the trench coat to block his view, you slowly took off your shirt and then wrapped his trench coat around your whole front. You knew that he had probably seen many naked bodies given his line of work but something about this scenario, with you being with him only in a car, felt very intimate and it made you very anxious. "You know how to sew?"

"I am a doctor, I know how to suture. And it is the same concept as sewing, but only with different kinds of needles and threads." He then started sewing, his concentration a trait you find admirable. It did not took him long when he finished sewing your shirt and he handed it back to you, the thread sewed on has gaps of equal length and was tied off neatly. As expected of one of the top doctors from Akso Hospital. As he started driving, he added. "Although I had managed to sew the shirt for you, I believe with my connections, I would be just as capable to find you the same shirt. Then, you would never have to complain about this being your only favourite shirt."

XAVIER

You were going about your day in your own house before you heard your doorbell ringing. You placed your bowl of cereal down and took a glance on the clock on your phone. Who dares to threaten your peaceful weekend? You went over to the door and you opened it to reveal your blond hair lover. "Xavier?" You asked, eyebrows furrowed when he smiled at you.

"Good morning, I see someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." He teased and stepped in, holding out a parcel for your. "I believe this belongs to you?" The small rip at the top side of your parcel indicated that he probably took a peek on what's inside. Acknowledging the parcel, you took it off of his hands and you blushed, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear.

"Good morning to you too. I guess I might have accidentally wrote your level instead of mine." You bit your bottom lip and you heard him chuckle in return. "But thanks for coming down to deliver this to me when you could have just asked me to get it from you." "But I wanted to see you personally. And seeing the clothes that are in the parcel, I thought I could get to watch you try them on too." His blunt answer made you stare at him like a mad man. His blue eyes however, glinted with nothing but honesty. This guy may be mysterious but he sure is straightforward in stating what he has on his mind. He probably noticed the way you reacted and he took a step back, retracing his words and slightly coughing to ease the awkwardness. "I mean, I would like to see you trying out these new outfits that you had gotten for yourself. It would be a good past time for me."

You chuckled at how goofy this guy is and gestured towards him to go and sit at the couch. You went into the room to get yourself changed and it was as if today is your fashion show day. You strutted out in different outfits, layered against one another and watched the way Xavier would react to you, either fascinated, or straight down confused. There was even this one time, he would just have a blank expression where you wore an oversized shirt under your tshirt. Clothing trends on the streets nowadays baffles him and he wondered if he was the one that was left out from the fashion ring.

Your last outfit featured you in a semi see through tank top and a pair of cargo pants. Not to mention, the tank top seemed to be too small for you as the way the blond boy sees it, it was holding onto your figure for dear life and barely leaving anything more to one's imagination. And the thought itself ticked him off. When you looked over towards Xavier, he does not look surprised nor confused, but rather bland. "What do you think?" Your tone came off to be amused and you did a twirl in front of him before you took a seat right next to him.

Xavier anxiously gulped and looked away from you, his voice low as he muttered. "I don't think this outfit looks nice on you, girlfriend." The way he shifted in his seat made you cornered him against the couch even more, wanting a better explanation. "The top you are wearing. I don't like it."

"And why so?" You asked, looking down at your top and adjusting it. "This is the trend nowadays, they call it the Y2K trend I think. And this tank top was on sale, so I just got it."

"I can buy you some other clothes. Even the ones that are not going to be on sale." He retorted, eyeing the tank top you were wearing with an underlying anger. "I just don't think I would like to see you wearing this in public. It is too revealing, and I guess tight on your body."

His answer painted your cheeks red and you gasped. What were you thinking? Of course you had forgotten about his possesive nature. He does not show it much and having such a pretty boy face like him further disconnects the word 'possessive' from his character. He reached into his hoodie's front pocket and pulled out his phone, opening up an app and handed the phone to you. When you refused to take it, he lifted his torso off of the couch to 'force' you to take his phone. Just like how you had previously pressed your body against him, this is his turn to take his small and sweet revenge. You panicked as he closed the gap between you two and within the next minute, he was pressed against you, one of his hand at the side of your head and another still holding his phone up to you, his gaze intense. "Just choose whatever you want from my phone, my card information is all in there. And perhaps before you check out, you can let me double check on the outfits you are getting." He low-key demanded before he explained himself for such a decision. "I just don't like nor want people staring wrongfully at what I treasure the most."

Another fluff for another day. I already did my best in having to think of different wardrobe malfunctions as I did not want one theme of wardrobe malfunction to be stagnant across the whole story for all three of the boys. SO I hope you would understand my lovelies. :,) I am very very free so I will be posting more regularly for these few weeks. SO please do show me more love and support as that would aid me in my motivation in writing!

Do check out my other works as well!

HOW WOULD THE BOYS REACT TO YOU FORGETTING ABOUT YOUR DATE?

DAMNATION

Hope your Delulu is satisfied my lovelies <3

#love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel sfw #rafayel x reader #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

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pokelolmc · 2 months

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Okay, so headcanon here (spoilers, obviously):

You know how Sir Pentious called Vaggie "Vagatha" in the finale? And Vaggie's like "well, that's not my name but uhhh..."

Well, I think (or at least HOPE) that in season 2, we see Vaggie choose this as her real/full name.

For anyone who doesn't know, Pentious's line was a reference to old lore where fans asked what Vaggie's real name was, and Vivzie said it was Vagatha. This is earlier on Hazbin's development, when Vaggie was probably just conceptualised as another sinner (back when she was supposed to have met Charlie in "high school" and had possible years of death thrown around online). But clearly that changed, now that we have the full show and Vaggie's been given the Exorcist backstory.

She was one of Adam's troops, and he literally named her after "vagina". Like the obvious joke about what Vaggie's name sounded like has just been made her real name.

But what if, after everything in S1, Vaggie decides to change her name properly? She's confronted her past for the first time in years, solidified her allegiance to the Princess of Hell and the asshole who gave her that demeaning name is dead. She's properly liberated from Adam now, so why not shed the old name? And what not better to use than the name Sir Pentious inadvertently suggested in honour of his heroic sacrifice? And also because it's a better alternative to what "Vaggie" originally stood for.

Just like the message that your past does not define you and the joy of found family, Vaggie can choose a name picked out by a member of that found family.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #vaggie #hazbin hotel headcanon #charlie morningstar #sir pentious #adam hazbin hotel #MAKE IT HAPPEN IT'S PERFECT!#found family

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marvelmusing · 11 months

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Our Souls

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: His Dark Materials inspired AU. As a well-known scholar, you’re invited to a gala at Lord Morozova’s estate. What you don’t expect is for the man himself to show a particular interest in you and your dæmon.

Warnings [18+]: mentions of sexual content, Aleksander is very suggestive and alluring, dæmon touching is a metaphor for intimacy and I’m really running with that metaphor, I’m also just twisting up the lore here.

“Well now they’re just showing off,” Fabian, your dæmon, remarks quietly while you observe the host of this gala.

Glancing down at the fox that is your lifelong companion and physical embodiment of your soul, you almost laugh at how primly he’s sitting beside your feet. Then you follow his gaze and find the dæmon of your host.

Lord Aleksander Morozova. His dæmon, a dark wolf with marbled grey fur, sits on the small dais at the side of the room whilst her human counterpart mingles with the crowd.

Standing such a distance from his dæmon is an impressive feat and you’re certain it is some sort of subtle intimidation technique to remind tonight’s guests of his power.

The majority of the people at this gala are scholars and other academics. Their research is all funded by Lord Morozova - as is your own.

There aren’t many of your fellow academics that you would consider your friends. Throughout the night you manage to make some minimal small talk, though you mostly keep to yourself with Fabian as your only company. That was how the two of you liked it.

It’s as you’ve finished a plate full of desserts that the host of this evening approaches you. Once you notice him, you brush down your black dress as subtly as you can, ensuring that you look presentable.

When he inclines his head politely in greeting you mirror the action with a small smile.

“Lord Morozova.”

“Aleksander, please,” he corrects you with a rather kind smile. “You study dæmonology, yes?”

“I do, sir.”

“A fascinating field,” he remarks appraisingly. “I must admit I’ve read most of your papers, you have a rare talent of perception.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The study of dæmons, particularly their behaviour and the relationship between them and their human counterpart has always been an interest of yours. Knowing the meaning behind certain dæmons has always helped you figure out what kind of person you’re talking to.

“Might I ask for your personal analysis?” He gestures down to where his dæmon has appeared.

“A wolf,” you state, the hint of a question at the edge of your tone. He nods encouragingly.

“Yes.”

After pausing for a moment, you recount the general characteristics of someone with a wolf dæmon.

“Strong, intelligent, loyal.”

He surveys you for a long moment, and you begin to fear that you’ve disappointed him, then he remarks,

“If I wanted flattery I would have remained with Miss Nazyalensky.” The amusement in his words fades as he holds your gaze. “Tell me the truth.”

Unable to look away from his dark eyes, a shiver runs down your spine and a strange warmth prickles over your skin - like a flustered sense of embarrassment mixed with an unfamiliar pleasure. Almost breathlessly, you say,

“There’s a violence in your soul. A vicious need to protect and possess. To take down whoever stands in your way, no matter what.”

He hums, approval shining in his eyes as he steps closer.

“And what about your little fox?”

At that, you glance down at Fabian and a bolt of surprise hits your chest as you see Aleksander’s dæmon nuzzling herself against your dæmon. Dark fur brushing firmly against Fabian’s glimmering red.

Hardly able to breathe with the flood of sensations running through your body, you barely notice that Aleksander has taken your chin between his fingers.

To see your dæmons entwined, playing with one another, feels too intimate. Especially in public like this.

“Look at me,” he demands gently. When you do as he says, you almost melt at the casual dominance resting on his features. “Answer the question.”

Words spill from you without any prior thought.

“Foxes are clever. Adaptable and cunning. They enjoy the hunt.”

He smiles darkly.

“It appears your soul is just as vicious as mine, wouldn’t you say?”

He steps closer as Fabian rolls happily onto his back and Aleksander’s dæmon rubs her face enthusiastically over his fluffy underbelly.

Sensing where your gaze has fallen once again, Aleksander breathes out a small huff of laughter at the sight of your dæmons together.

Then he asks in a low voice,

“Have you ever touched a dæmon before?”

Amusement glimmers in his eyes as you inhale sharply in response to his question. Touching someone else’s dæmon is regarded as taboo. Even in an academic context, you’ve never even considered such a thing.

“Surely you of all people should know that it is only common courtesy that prevents us from doing so,” he muses quietly.

Then he lifts a dark brow.

“I’m assuming no one has ever touched your dæmon?”

You shake your head.

“Poor thing,” he coos, stroking your cheek softly. “With consent, it can be quite a pleasurable experience.”

“You want to touch my dæmon?”

The words are stammered and fumbled as they leave your lips but Aleksander smiles indulgently all the same.

“Yes. And I’d very much like you to touch mine.”

Just the thought of sinking your fingers into the thick dark fur, imagining how Aleksander’s eyes might flutter closed, his head tilting back slightly, has you thoroughly enticed.

“Perhaps we could go somewhere more private to continue this discussion,” he suggests.

Holding his gaze for a long moment, you find yourself slipping away from reality, utterly mesmerised by the man in front of you and the feeling of his soul curling around yours. Once again, your eyes drift over to your dæmons.

“What’s her name?” you whisper softly. When the hint of a frown touches at his brows you add, “Your dæmon.”

Something in his expression softens.

“Andromeda.”

The corner of your mouth lifts with a soft smile.

“Pretty name.”

“Thank you.” He tilts his head so that his eyes can bounce between you and your dæmon, then he adds in a low voice, “Fabian, isn’t it?”

A visible shudder rolls through your dæmon as you nod with a dazed look in your eyes.

Aleksander looks almost sympathetic as he observes the state of you, curling each of his hands around your forearms to steady you.

“If you want me to stop this-”

Shaking your head, you interrupt him with a quiet plea.

“No, please, don’t stop.”

“Come with me,” he insists, though he makes no move before you nod in consent. When you do, he breathes out a soft smile and begins to lead you through the throngs of people.

It all passes by in a blur. Aleksander’s arm curled protectively around your waist. Andromeda pressed closely against Fabian as they follow you.

As soon as you reach a deserted hallway, Aleksander is pushing you back against a smooth stone wall. For a moment he watches the heavy rise and fall of your chest, your lips parted and eyes wide as you stare up at him.

His fingers ghost over your lips in a silent question, to which you nod and allow your eyes to flutter closed in anticipation.

Then his mouth descends, meeting yours in a fierce kiss that steals everything from you. Mind filled nothing but thoughts of him, you grasp tightly onto the front of his kefta to support yourself and bring him closer. The way he takes the air from your lungs makes you dizzy.

He withdraws slowly, after several more lengthy kisses that pick apart your sanity piece by piece with every movement of his lips. When he does half his assault, he doesn’t go far, your noses brushing together delicately.

“My apologies,” he murmurs, his own breathing ragged as he rests his forehead against yours. “I had intended on making it to my quarters before doing that.”

The smile that spreads over your face is rather giddy as you laugh softly. His own smile is boyish, with a twinkle of amusement sparkling in his dark eyes.

He noses affectionately at your cheek, tilting his head so that he can press kisses along your jawline.

“They appear to be enjoying themselves,” he observes lightly.

Following his gaze, you see Fabian and Andromeda curled around one another on the floor. Fabian nips playfully at her ear and a low sound rumbles from Andromeda. Little pink tongues flicker over fur as they continue to pet each other.

It’s rare for dæmons to get along so well. Even the dæmons of married couples aren’t as forthright as yours are right now.

“We must be quite compatible,” you suggest.

His body presses firmly against yours and you can feel his hardness digging into your stomach. It makes sense that the sensations you’re experiencing are also being felt by him. After all, your dæmon is just as eager as his is to touch and play with one another.

Still, you’re surprised to see the usually reserved Lord Morozova look so unravelled - by you.

His hands are firm on your body as he all but drags you down the corridor, stopping occasionally to kiss you against a wall or a closed door. The idea that someone might see you both has a warmth prickling under your skin.

Then you reach his rooms.

He closes the door behind you, pressing you against the dark stained wood. Caging you between his arms, he stares at you for a long moment. Leaning in slowly, he brushes his lips lightly against yours.

His delicate touch, after the almost violent hunger displayed in the hallways, makes you moan quietly, filled to the brim with yearning and desire.

“Aleksander,” you whisper against his lips. “Please.”

He steps away and you whimper.

Shrugging his kefta from his shoulders, you watch as he hangs it over a chair and begins to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. He toes off his expensive dress shoes and unbuttons the top few shirt buttons to reveal a generous amount of his bare chest.

Then he reclined himself casually over his bed, propping himself up with an elbow resting against the mattress.

“Fabian, come here.”

There is a moment of hesitation from your dæmon. People don’t usually address them directly and your poor soul seems conflicted. But curiosity and the need for Aleksander seems to win him over.

Inhaling shakily, you watch as he trots across the room towards the bed, leaping up in a nimble motion, before he approaches Aleksander.

Aleksander’s eyes flicker up to where you’re frozen by the closed door.

“This distance doesn’t hurt you, does it?” he asks.

You shake your head. Some people are better than others at maintaining distance from their dæmon. Some can barely move a few feet without feeling a sting of pain, whilst other dæmons can wander into other rooms without any discomfort.

Aleksander nods in acknowledgement.

Then he brushes his hand delicately over Fabian’s fur. Nearly choking on your breath, you gasp and lean heavily against the door. Both Fabian and Aleksander watch you intently.

“You can join us,” Aleksander suggests with a soft smile.

In all honesty you’re not sure if you can walk steady. Then Andromeda licks your hand in affectionate encouragement. Staring wide-eyed down at Aleksander’s dæmon, you give her a tentative pat on the head.

Aleksander hums softly in pleasure and you smooth your fingers over the soft fur at the top of her head before you scratch gently behind her ear. He groans lowly, his eyes fluttering closed as he inhales deeply.

Stumbling a little, you move hurriedly over to Aleksander’s bed, tugging at your heels and discarding them carelessly. He smiles widely as you lie down beside him on your back.

Fabian presses himself against you immediately and you curl your arms around his body as he drapes himself over your chest. The familiar weight soothes you and instantly both of you relax.

“You have quite the bond,” Aleksander observes quietly.

Self-consciously, you bury your face down into the fur of your dæmon.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he assures you, threading his hand through Fabian’s fur. “Too many teenagers shun their dæmon in an attempt to seem more of an adult. Evidently, you didn’t do such a thing.”

You shake your head.

After your dæmon settles, it’s generally thought that you should limit talking to and touching them in public. Some people even think in private your dæmon should remain reserved. That’s something you’ve never believed in. Fabian is your soul - the two of you are the only ones you can rely on. Pushing him away would hurt too much.

There are lonely nights where nothing except his weight on your chest and the softness of his fur against your fingers can help quieten your mind. He gives you some of the best advice and you can’t imagine life with a dæmon you couldn’t talk to.

The distance Aleksander is able to put between himself and his dæmon is impressive, but his admiration of your bond with Fabian makes you wonder.

“You and Andromeda…” you begin slowly. “Are you separated?”

He seems impressed by your observation, though there is a touch of sadness in his eyes. Some people purposefully separate themselves from their dæmons, whilst sometimes it happens during a trauma.

“Not quite,” he says in a quiet voice. “Even before she settled, my mother insisted that I should be able to move a great distance without my dæmon.”

Andromeda noses against your side and you can’t stop yourself from giving the poor dæmon some affection. The idea of Aleksander’s mother encouraging them to be parted at such a young age makes your heart ache.

“It’s taken us several years to rebuild our bond,” he admits as he rests his hand against the dark fur of his dæmon.

The two of them seem so in tune with one another, it’s startling to think that their bond had to be recreated as an adult.

“Fabian thought it was a power display,” you remark. “Publicly putting that much distance between you both.”

“I did not,” your dæmon grumbles in a small murmur. At that, you give him a pointed look of disagreement.

Aleksander chuckles.

“He was right. If people see how much distance I can put between myself and Andromeda, they will wonder what else I am capable of.”

Fabian turns his head to look at Aleksander and in response he curls his fingers under your dæmon’s chin. He scrapes his blunt nails through the short hairs there before he moves his attention back to you.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

Sighing in pleasure, you smile softly.

“Good.”

He hums in approval.

“You’re doing very good. A lot of people lose consciousness the first time their dæmon is touched.”

You frown.

“Really?”

He nods.

The silence is comfortable between you both as you continue to gently pet one another’s dæmon. Occasionally, your dæmons will give each other some attention, murmuring quietly to one another as they nuzzle and lick at their faces and fur.

Soon they’ve settled in the space between you and Aleksander. Fabian pressed against Aleksander’s ribs whilst Andromeda rests her side against your stomach. Both you and Aleksander have turned on your sides to face one another and watch your dæmons.

“Shouldn’t you be at your gala?” you ask him quietly. He shakes his head.

“I can’t think of a single person there that would deserve more of my attention than you do.”

His words set a fire within you and your gaze drifts down to his lips.

“Aleksander…”

“No.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say,” you protest weakly.

He chuckles.

“I do. And the answer is no.” Both you and Fabian huff lightly. “As much as I want to…” He traces his thumb over your lower lip. “You’re not thinking clearly and I won’t take advantage of that.”

“But-”

“No buts. If you need a moment to yourself I can draw you a bath.”

Blinking in confusion, you frown at him.

“A bath?”

He hums with a small smirk.

“Or I can wait in my study, for however long you need, if you would prefer my bed.”

The frown on your face deepens.

“Are you…?”

His smile widens into something that makes your stomach flip. He takes his hand away from where he’s been petting Fabian and traces his fingers gently over your cheek.

“I’m telling you to touch yourself, darling. You’ll feel better once you do.”

A burning blush floods through your body. The thought of touching yourself in Aleksander’s rooms makes you a little embarrassed, especially when you imagine accidentally making a mess of his sheets.

“Can I have a bath?” you ask shyly.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Of course.”

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @veescorneroftheworld

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

#aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader #the darkling moodboard

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yandereheathen · 5 months

Text

The Cost of Protection [Yandere elf guard x Fem Reader] 18+ Chapter #1

Based in Barovia (Curse of strahd, some dusk elf lore spoilers) Warnings: Non-con touching/kissing/ some violence, obsessive treatment, death threats necromancy?

Living in Barovia was hard enough; trying to do business in it is quite the other. Besides all of the ghosts, Undead creatures, and living under the tyranny of a centuries-old whiny vampire, everything was complicated. Still, you had your own set of struggles. Your Tavern was not necessarily famous, but it did good business. You had your regulars, Travelers who would sometimes come and try their hand at defeating the vampire lord Who you never saw again unless it was their Undead body, and some other travelers who were peddling wears pies, toys, weapons, anything that you could imagine then there was the common folk and Crafts People. Everyone was welcome in your Tavern. You offered a warm smile, a glass to drink, and whatever you could scratch up to cook that day; however, you had one unwelcome guest who changed your path forever.

Maverick

It wasn't uncommon that Dusk elves would come into your Tavern. They followed Vistani and often went through the cities of Barovia on a standard route, and more and more did you feel like you saw them integrating with the town, so seeing one dressed in a guard uniform was unusual but not unheard of. His long dark hair was braided up in leather twine, and his eyes were the standard golden color, but you did see a tiredness in them. He was only an inch or two shorter than you. After all, you were pretty tall for a human, but he was well-built and had hands that showed both work and strength. His smile and his voice were the things that stood out most. It had a ruggedness that you admitted caused a little heat in your cheeks the first time you spoke with him.

Speaking of the first time, You remember clearly the first time he stopped by your Tavern. You treated him sweetly, flashed a smile, and put your arms down in front of him, looking up at him with innocent eyes leaning at the bar.

"Anything to drink, sir?"

You Tend to be flirty with everybody. It was basically in a bar person's job description. Still, you noticed that some visitors would give you an extra coin or became regulars if you gave them special treatment. However, his smile made you a little uneasy, almost excited. It was a smile that said he appreciated your treatment and wanted more, how much more you didn't quite understand that time. Did you know that that smile would lead to many other things? He just put your hand just under your cheek and, tilted his head, and said

"I think a beer or mash number 8 would be okay before I have to eat. I could live off your voice and those beautiful eyes forever.

You just left thinking he was making some flirtatious joke, pulled his draft, and handed it to him. From what you've gathered, asking him simple questions about his life gave you non-committal answers or general mods. He was pretty new around town and it was just getting to know all of the local businesses, and he heard that you could get a good cup for cheap and that a cute shop girl was serving the drinks. You laughed again at his flirtatious joke, but you noticed that his eyes never left you from your lips to your shoulders, down your neck to your chest. Even to your backside, when you were turned around and helping other customers with their drinks, you didn't think much of it then. Still, it definitely left you a little unnerved.

After that, he became one of your regulars. You knew his drink by heart, you knew what he liked to sit in at what time, and you learned exactly how to speak with him. Not too much, but he did enjoy hearing a little bit about your day. He wasn't much of a talker, but you don't mind, or you did not have the time.

One night, a set of particularly Rowdy young men was causing ruckuses in your Tavern. You tried to compile them with free drinks and sweet words, but you needed more. It all came to a head when one of them tried to get handsy on you, and he was greeted with a sword to his neck. The man went still as Maverick whispered in his ear, pressing the dagger a little bit closer enough to cut into his neck. He looked at the other two men and said in his low, deep voice.

"Oh, did you both want to be next? As much as I would joy putting all your heads on a platter and making it for the next stew, this one would not appreciate making a mess of her Tavern. How about all of us be nice to you all? Get the hell out of here before I make an example."

They tried to avoid messing with a guard, let alone a dusk elf. There were rumors of them knowing dark magic. Magic rants to them after the travesty of their women being wiped out, dark magic that was taught to them by Rahadin, the right-hand Master of the lord of the world. The ability to raise the dead and control minds are abilities right from hell."

They all scurried off. You were thankful, bowing to Maverick and taking his hand, promising free drinks for the rest of the night. Still, he took your hand and looked at you, his golden eyes hidden behind something mischievous, something lustful that weighed heavy on your heart. In your chest, you felt the heat rise up from your stomach.

"Darling, we can make a better arrangement. How would you like me to offer my protection?"

You looked at him, confused, but still held his hand, your head tilted.

"I would always be thankful, but isn't that what you usually do? I wouldn't want you to give me special treatment."

"Oh well,"

He takes your face and his hand. Squeezing your cheeks ever so slightly,

"If you give me special treatment, I'll give you and your customers special treatment. After all, you wouldn't want anything to happen to you, your Tavern, or your customers, would you, darling?"

He forces your eyes up to his and brings your lips closer. The rest of the Tavern, already daunted by the commotion, looks away. You simply nod in agreement, and he lets you go, patting your shoulder and laughing good-heartedly.

"well, perfect, I think I'll take my first payment tonight."

You panicked, thinking about how much she could get into the day, and said,

"How much are you asking for? I've already offered you free drinks. I don't know what more I can do.-"

He cuts you off, putting his finger to your lips.

"Don't worry. You have everything that I could want to need."

And he walks off.

After closing, when all of the lights in the streets were out and the spirits were already roaming the streets, you clutched to your apron, putting up the last of the chairs. The candle lights were just barely about to go out. You counted up all of your money from the day, and while you made enough of an earning, you were very worried that he would not have enough to pay for this new extortion. You had heard stories of guards and heroes extorting young men and women for protection. You did not think it would happen to you that living in a place of cold and darkness was curse enough, but it looked like the fates had a little more for you.

You almost didn't hear him come in as he stuck his hands around your waist and up your throat. You tried to yell out, but his hand covered your mouth, and he kissed just the side of your ear as you immediately felt yourself wanting to flee. Then he whispered in your ear,

"Oh, now that's a pleasing darling. As much as I would have so much fun chasing you, I don't have the time tonight to have my cute little rabbit."

He put his hands down your hip, lifted your dress, and ran his hand up your thigh as he kissed your jawline and neck. You stammered, still trying to get free.

"You said you wanted payment. I'm really to pay. The draw is open. Take what you want. I don't care. Please, just don't hurt me."

You cry through your struggles, but he just laughs, nipping where your neck and your shoulder mean,

"Oh no, my little rabbit. As much as it delights me to hear you after having to endure hearing you simper over every man who can give you coin, I'm finally able to take the prize that is Rightfullymine after all that will be our deal."

He lifts you up and plenty down on the closest table, the wood scratching into your shoulder, your head banging painfully on it. You cry out in pain. It is silenced by his mouth crashing into yours in a kiss. A rough kiss. He pins your hands down, holding his fingers In times with yours as his tongue searches into your open mouth, wrestling to pin it down. You see his golden eyes boring into yours like a beast unleashed. You stand there stunned, unable to move with his weight pushed against you. Even with your slight height Advantage, his trained muscle and sheer force can do nothing.

He breaks apart, your lips bruised and your tongue hanging out of your mouth, a stream of saliva connecting both of your mouths.

"Please, why are you doing this?"

You manage to choke out as you feel him grinding into your lower half just underneath your dress.

"Well, it's pretty simple, my cute little rabbit. I only joined the guard because I was bored, and I thought I could find some fun beating up the locals or helping young maidens. Still, I saw you, a bright Lily, and a swamp of muck to see simpering and pampering to everybody who entered your Tavern was so endearing I knew I needed to have you. I knew that you were mine, don't you understand? When elves mate, they mate for life, so that means."

He cried to you rougher you feel his hard cock rubbing into your own sex with a need want to be inside you.

"You will be mine for the rest of your life. I will ensure that. If you don't want to be mine, it's pretty simple- you don't have to."

You blink this as he lets you sit up, but he still stands between your legs.

"You mean you'll just let me go. You won't do anything?"

You look at him, hoping that this is some weird pass, and you would know he would just leave you alone. But your hopes are soon crushed.

"oh no, my darling, if you say no,"

he moves in closer, and his sword falls at the back of your neck.

"I will kill you and make sure you are raised as a zombie who has no free will and who is forced to do my bidding for the rest of your Undead life. Do you understand me, my cute little rabbit?"

At that, you feel a heat emanating from his sword, a Blackness clouding around the edges of your eyes, and you know that his promise holds truth. Your body goes rigid and shakes, and tears silently stream down your eyes as he takes you in his arms, rubbing your back oddly comfortingly or trying to be with his sword. His other hand grips your bottom, pulling you closer as he snuggles into your neck, inhaling your scent.

"so you decide to make, my darling. Either I can have you here of your own free will, where I will love and protect you in this Tavern, or I will have the pleasure of seeing your beautiful blood dripping down your chest. I can have you as my perfect little Undead doll."

"The choice is yours. You pretty little rabbit."

#yandere thoughts #yandere writing #yandere x reader #yandere smut #yandere #yandere x you #tw: yandere #yandere boy #tw non con #yandere d&d #COS #curse of strahd fan fiction #dark themes #yandere elf

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genshinology · 2 years

Text

AN UNEXPECTED REPLACEMENT. ayato

pairing; ayato x fem!reader

genre; strangers to not-so-lovers au, slight crack, fluff and angst (only if you squint hard enough).

word count; 11.6k (i've spent too much hours on this omg)

summary; who would have thought that you, the younger sister of a lowly clan far from inazuma city, would end up in a blind date with the kamisato ayato? the instructions were simple; make an appearance on the behalf of your sister, do what she requested you to do, and pretend as if nothing happened the day after. the main objective? leave a bad impression on him.

content; nobleman!ayato, mentions of some inazuma characters, slight mentions of death, some made up inazuma lore (especially of the reader clan), mentions of manipulation, sir kamisato is whipped, some kissing is thrown in there, there's a tension between these two idiots btw and uhh, this fic has so many clichés and is so unrealistic so please bear with it :3

notes; the main theme of this fic is heavily inspired by a business proposal because i am obsessed with the show except that all of these are happening in inazuma settings and i am an ayato simp. also, this is heavily unedited ;;

"brother," the soft voice of his younger sister was all too familiar, the way she called him since they were young made him knew instantly that it was indeed ayaka's voice. well, he technically did have ayaka as his only sibling, and maybe, thoma was also considered as his partner in crime and his brother in some way.

he hummed, slightly acknowledging his sister presence in his room. although the paperwork was too much on days like this, especially when it was nearing the annual inazuma festival, he didn't let his stress took over his exhausted state. instead, he stood up and went to ayaka, leaving his study a mess, patting her head multiple times and gave her a small smile, because hearing someone's voice after a tiring day made his mood a little bit better, precisely when it came to his own family.

"is there something you would like to talk about?" the slight croak in ayato's voice made ayaka looked up at him, pitying his brother even more than her own self. on days like this, both of them had a lot of works to do, but nothing could compare with the burden her brother had to carry alone.

the tiredness was very much evident in the way ayato took a heavy breath from time to time, waiting patiently as to what she would like to voice out, and this made ayaka questioned her decision.

still, she had already discussed what had been weighing her mind from the start with thoma, and now that thoma was also on the same team as her, might as well she braced herself and quickly went through her thoughts over and over again before ultimately told ayato what she and thoma had been planning all this time.

"brother, i would like to discuss.. some things with you. and please, take this with a grain of salt," how could ayato say no? when his sister looked at him with a look he always had a soft spot in his heart, "i am all ears."

"thoma and i.. have been arranging some affairs regarding our clan and uhm, it heavily involves you and mother's last request," the way ayaka stuttered because of her nervousness and when he heard the last words came out from his sister's mouth, he immediately knew, what affairs she had brought up into her hands.

specifically, marriage affairs.

of course, ayato didn't actually hate the idea, the only thing he slightly disliked was how almost everyone he had been set up with only came to him because of his social status, and it looked like he would be going to yet another date with some random girl in inazuma.

sensing how quiet and awkward the air was, ayaka quickly regretted killing his mood. mentally blaming herself, she should have known better than telling ayato about this matter once again, even at times like this when the clan was super busy.

"i am sorry if i acted carelessly when you are currently rushing out to fulfil your duties, but thoma and i think you should unwind once in a while and—," ayaka stopped herself from blabbering too much, seeing how ayato looked at him lifelessly, she couldn't read his expressions and this was definitely a bad sign, "brother, i'll just cancel our plan. is that okay with you—

"no," ayato cut her off, knowing ayaka too well as if he knew himself, he knew that his little sister slowly taking the blame onto her, and he hated that the most, especially when ayaka actually came with the efforts of making him having his own family as per their mother's wish on her deathbed although he knew she was busy as him and still made her time to do what the best for him, as well as for the clan.

"i will go. you are right after all. i should definitely come out and socialise, it has been quite a stressful week for me too," he gave ayaka a timid nod, "you and thoma have done so much to me, why should i turn down you and mother's request, right?" a sudden, small hug by ayaka was comforting enough for him. the pain of losing their mother suddenly resurfacing and ayato pushed the negative feeling, he knew ayaka tried her best and so did he.

the way ayaka looked up at him with a mix of joy and pain at the same time made his heart shattered into pieces.

both of them were strong, those were the last words from their mother.

"so, who is this person i'm meeting up with?" he chuckled into the hug, and he definitely didn't want to disappoint his mother from above.

the loud slam from the door behind you almost left you flinched and hurt yourself from banging your knees with the lower part of the wooden table. a sigh escaped you momentarily and you quickly thanked the archons that your reflexes were fast enough.

"what brings you here? i almost have a heart attack because of you," who would barge into your room other than your own sister? the supposedly head of your family clan—which wasn't really that powerful—was the only one who loved interrupting your privacy, even in your room. she was unlike any other ladies from other clans, so petty and sometimes, you were so sure that your sister didn't like the idea of being the one who should take care of the things in your family.

the duty of overlooking the shrines at the southwest part of the whole yashiori island was divided to three other clans beside yours. to say that your family clan wasn't that influential like the six main clans, including the tri-comission, in inazuma was an understatement and you were perfectly fine with that.

"y/n, my beloved little sister," her whiny voice resonated through your small room and you ultimately could practically see why your sister suddenly acted super childish, hugging you almost too tight and choking you to death.

you didn't want to exaggerate, but honestly, sometimes her behaviour made you felt slightly ashamed being a part of her sibling. at least she was the mood maker in the household.

"what do you want? i can sniff your hidden agenda from miles away," pushing her away was a bad move, not when your sister turned to you with such a dramatic face and faked her teary eyes after that.

"y/n," you almost cringed at the clinginess your sister exerted, something about this made you thought of what had possibly came up when your sister was so desperate like this.

"how to end this?" she sighed, frowning seeing you acted uninterested when the problem was way bigger for her than you would have initially thought, "well, you see," her hands grabbed your shoulder, slightly forced you to listen her storytelling about what happened, "i just came back from lunch with mother."

"and?"

"for god's sake, listen to me thoroughly on this one. it's not like i am wasting your precious time," she, indeed, was wasting your precious time, but again, she was your sister, and her stories often peaked your interest when you actually decided to hear her words.

"she told me to go to a blind date," your eyes couldn't stop themselves from widening, shocked at hearing the news came out from your sister's mouth, the one and only who you knew was the first person who objected the theme of blind dates and arranged marriages.

"what?!" you half-screamed when her words were finally registering inside your brain, "are you saying that you aren't going to stay single anymore?" your unfiltered words came out before you could actually comprehend what you had accidentally said, and for the first time in your life, you couldn't believe that your sister was going to actually go on a blind date.

a slap to your back was felt and a heavy glare was sent towards your sister, "haven't i already said it is a blind date? that doesn't mean i am going to accept ayato," she rolled her eyes, annoyed that you said something too truthful and hurt her pride.

"what do you mean ayato? is it kamisato ayato?!" you shouldn't freak out more than you already were, but you just couldn't help yourself when shocking news came tumbling to you, "lord kamisato who you hate for more than twenty years?! the yashiro commissioner?!"

"calm down," seeing you panicked now made her day felt much more worse than the uneventful day of ayato being her first childhood enemy back when your family was still living in inazuma city. your sister suddenly felt irritated recalling all the memories of ayato stirring around her life back then, and now she was set up with him? oh, what a cheery on top!

and although ayato might not remember your sister anymore, the deeds he did back then—embarrassing her in front of ayaka, laughing at your sister demeanor and appearance, and worst, making a mess with the first pair of good shoes she had—weren't something she could easily shrug off.

and no matter how drastically ayato had changed from what she heard so far—humble, kind, mature, basically unlike the ayato from her livid memories—since he became the commissioner and took the people trust he was forced into at such a young age, your sister would always scoff every single time she heard someone praising ayato.

"what's the point of me going to the date when all i have always believed in is fate," her shoulders dropped, hands clamping at your face, her eyes somewhat shone in a mischievous light and you were a little confused as to her response to this.

but something about this made you almost rolling onto the floor, you just couldn't imagine how awkward the date would have been and imagining your sister comical face made you snorted, "well, i wish you a really have a nice day to you, wait, i mean have a nice date," you couldn't contain your laugh anymore, chuckling halfway when she once again palmed your face in her hands, while sending back the infamous mischievous smile of her to you. uh oh, you thought.

"what insane plan have you think of this time?" your sister was cunning as a fox, you knew her trait since day one, but the nervous laugh you let out seeing her eyes turned suddenly brighter made your stomach churned at the sight. something about this was off.

"my kindest sister in the whole world," you definitely didn't like where this was going, something was definitely off when her tone changed, "i've made up my mind, so please, go to the blind date in my regards."

you almost, almost pushed your sister hard enough for her to fall. luckily, your body was too stunned. unluckily, you accidentally hit her arms too hard that she winced in pain.

"are you out of your mind?!" your voice might have been heard throughout the whole house, because the next moment your sister asked you to keep silent and begging her eyes out for you to do what she intended at the first place.

"no," you shook your head, "no, no, there's no way i am the one going to that date when i barely know lord kamisato. and from what i have remembered correctly, you are the one who should go. not me," you emphasised word by word, covering up your panic when all you wanted to do was cursing your sister and let out inappropriate words.

"it is a blind date, y/n. you shouldn't know that much about your date partner, right?" she still didn't back down, giving you those eyes that made you having the urge to rip them out of their sockets, "no! i said no, and that's enough," you could be stubborn if you wanted to, "there's no way i am going to help you. when mother literally told you about this on her own," you ignored her pleading, smoothly went to your study and continuing what you had abandoned before your sister came into your room without your approval.

now that you thought of it, how rude of her.

you didn't mean to stay mad at her, but a blind date with the head clan of another, in which a much more powerful clan, didn't sound a great idea to you.

you huffed, scrunched your nose before ultimately attempting to kick your sister out of your room, "wait, wait. i'll reward you!"

"do you really think that this type of manipulation is going to work out on me? get out of my room, sister," you dragged her body with you and opened the door, "don't you have any bits of sympathy left in you? because you have always knew of my hatred towards ayato—

"no, no, no. guilt tripping isn't going to work out on me either," you nudged her body forward and closed the door, the continuous banging surely gave you a headache but you decided to just ignore your sister.

it should be easy, you were born for it.

"i'll give you some mora for you to pay your compensation to the kujou clan," your mind stopped functioning, and before you knew it, you instinctually opened the door to see her standing tall in front of the door, "i know you aren't really having a good financial recovery after all you did to oppose the vision hunt decree and when your name was up there in the most wanted list. but now that the almighty shogun has abolished the decree, i'm sure it is the right time for you to pay back the compensation you promised a long time ago when you accidentally hurt one of the soldiers from that clan," your sister definitely knew how to play her cards well, because you were now hesitant and didn't like the way how she was smiling winningly.

you didn't mean to hurt that poor soldier, it was just that you didn't bear to see the vision of your mother's was ripped out from her, and you accidentally awakened your power to scare the unfortunate soldier.

only to know that the soldier was under the kujou clan and a representative was sent for you to prove your loyalty towards the shogun in form of compensation after all the ruckus ended.

the fact that you were undergoing a financial problem didn't help you at all. the price of paying back what you had done to the soldier was worthy more than your monthly allowance.

you had promised yourself to not drag any of your family members into this matter, no matter how many times your mother insisted that she could pay on your behalf, you often rejected her offer which resulted in her giving up to persuade you.

so now, when you really needed it the most, and the chance was right there in front of your very own eyes, you were hesitant.

"it's fine," you whispered, not more towards the figure in front of you but more to yourself, "it's alright, i can handle this on my own."

"are you sure? a blind date isn't that bad. a high rank official like ayato wouldn't even bat an eyelid towards us," your sister convinced, and maybe, she did have a point.

"imagine if you have finally paid the compensation, you could buy that one kimono you've always dreamt of, but seeing how you are so aware of your own money, it scares me honestly," she nodded, slightly comforting your sudden trembling figure, she knew she hit a jackpot with this one, "only if. what a pity. i want to see you enjoy yourself again like before."

"fine."

your sister broke into a smile, "what did you say again?"

"do i really need to repeat myself?"

"come on now, don't be so gloomy. shoulders up like a real inazuman lady," you coughed at her words of teaching you etiquette when she herself didn't follow the etiquette quiet well, "and don't consider this as a type of your so-called manipulation, let's say that this is my form of gratitude towards you," you gave her a calculating gaze, pondering over and over whether you were sure about your wavering decision just now.

"make sure i don't regret this, sister," you sighed, all emotions came up to you at once when she hugged you and gave an affirmative nod, "i'll tell mother about this, she would be super delighted hearing that you are going to the date!" her happy voice made your heart thumping against your ribcage so badly, mentally blaming yourself that you weren't strong enough to resist the tempting offer she gave to you and silently fell into her trap.

at least you were going to get out from the burden that was eating you alive for the past week.

just what mess did you have gotten yourself into?

reality hit you really hard when the weekend came by. the moment you opened your eyes upon seeing some light penetrated through the window, you instantly knew that you would regret this.

just by thinking about what you were going to do today made you almost lied to your mother and sister that you were falling ill, but then again, your sister knew how to read your body language, and that excuse inevitably checked off from your list of last minute getaway from the situation you somehow indulged in.

it's do or die, do not disappoint me, your sister words replayed themselves in the back of your head. you didn't really find out why she took this too serious. not when you were the one meeting up with lord kamisato as his date instead of the older one. the audacity of your sister was something else, you gave that.

"listen."

you sat across the small wooden table, straightening your back to look at her directly into the eyes.

"let's cause a scene."

when your inner self was trying to be nicer of your perspectives towards your sister, that was the time she proved you wrong. oh, she was way crazier than that, "let's scare him away."

"are you insane? why should i be partaking in this? if this is your way of getting that revenge on lord kamisato, i promise you i'll quit right this instant. honestly, why did i even agree to your stupid plan in the first place?" you glared at your sister, and for a moment, your sister scowled at your behaviour towards her as the eldest sibling, "little sister, you are so boring."

"think about this twice," she continued, knocking her knuckle repeatedly to get your focus whilst skilfully dodging your fiery state, "first, if the date goes bad, no one would dare setting themselves up on any blind dates with us anymore, right?"

you unknowingly rolled your eyes—while you who also didn't like the general idea of blind dates too, because love couldn't be forced by setting strangers up with each other, at least you weren't this devastated as much as your sister—and for sure your sister took notice of this, "second of all, trust me, if you act with little to no manners towards that rascal commissioner, he would definitely believe that we aren't interest in the date at all."

she gave you a grin, too wide for your continuous unsupportive attitude at her unconvincing reasons, "lastly, i will treat you for the rest of the weekend. how's that sound?"

you breathed out heavily, she was really keeping her stance in this matter.

who was your sister even kidding? she could say that carelessly without a single care in the world to your own face when you were the one who would be meeting up with lord kamisato. you were the one who would say that your sister clearly didn't want to be on that date, and instead, put you as her replacement.

not when your own mother put you in the finest kimono you'd ever laid your eyes on, even your first time got to wear the beautiful pair of shoes, perfectly styled hair and those hairpins and ornaments you had always drooled over seeing they decorated nicely on top of your mother's head were now placed on yours.

because she kept on insisting that you should always look your best for the rest of the day. your date partner was the kamisato ayato, there was no doubt that she wouldn't want her own daughter came at the estate with a bad first impression.

you had to admit, this was the best look you'd ever tried for the longest time.

unbeknownst to her, you had agreed to your sister plan accordingly upon countless times of her begging you to do what she wanted you to do.

"one, introduce yourself as the younger sister. two, pretend as if you're uninterested. it would be much better if you are being impolite from the start. three, tell him that i couldn't attend the date. make it clear that i, or even you, against it. four, end the date quickly and do what you want. you could finally put your acting to a good use. the main objective? leave a bad impression on him by the end of the date."

and now that you were here, in front of one of the most elegant buildings throughout inazuma, all of these finally sunk into your unprepared mind. you were nervous.

travelling here back from your own small hometown was taking a toll inside you, and you were already gasping for air before the real deal even began.

"greetings," one of the servants bowed down to you, probably intimidated by your looks. if only she knew, how shaky your legs were underneath the kimono, she would definitely judge you right this instant, "welcome to the yashiro commission headquarters, or informally known as the kamisato estate."

despite your mission of exacerbating the date, you couldn't help but stare in awe at how truly big and spacious the land was, noticing few beautiful details here and there, before you felt something—or rather someone—behind you.

"lady y/n?" you pivoted on your feet, turning your whole body to face somewhat a familiar face. oh, you were no lady alright but this man kept on calling you with that title which didn't suit you by any means.

the blond-haired yet humble figure introduced himself as thoma, the housekeeper of the estate, "it's nice seeing you here, miss," he gave you a welcoming smile. what an odd hair colour for an inazuma man to have, but you decided to not dive further into your own curiosity of his background.

you gave him a small nod, confirming to yourself that you didn't want to come out rude at him when all he gave you was a cheerful smile that put you at ease, despite your sister's last advice; be rude to almost everyone at the estate, if you are brave enough to do so of course.

"miss y/n, i believe my lord is waiting for you inside. i hope it goes well for the both of you," if only thoma knew, what kind of act you were going to put up afterwards, he would instantaneously regret saying that to you.

you felt bad for not saying anything towards thoma all this time he escorted you, but the way everyone looked at you during the whole time since you had arrived until the very moment the two main guards were opening the main door for you, you were feeling uncomfortable. this feeling of being the center of attention made you felt so cautious of your behaviour. everyone was judging you, and you were highly aware of that one fact.

"i'll take my leave. i must say, it isn't the best for me to interrupt you and my lord," you mentally thanked the archons for thoma wise choice. if not, he would see your acting and thought that you were being such a—

the doors opened wide in front of you, no cue or signal was given, and behind them, standing the man who you had been thinking about for the past few days, and the first thing you saw was the kamisato ayato greeting you with a bow and gave you a charming smile.

now that was a rare sight to see, especially in front of your very own eyes.

he was smiling, and you cursed silently under your breath at how good-looking this man was, mentally told yourself to calm down, because you were nervous as hell and almost tripping yourself the moment you stepped inside before you collected your confidence and self-esteem.

if your sister succeeded manipulating you for the damned money, might as well you did your best and got your hands on it.

you were finally determined to do what your sister had asked you to do. something about actually being in this private household, with only lord kamisato in front of you, made you gained so much believe in yourself.

yes, if you were going to get the money, you should just go for it.

cue.

ACT I

pretending in fixing your kimono theatrically—like a typical arrogant, rich lady—whilst looking up directly into his eyes, you firmly put some pressure on ayato's shoulder, and the way his eyes were quick enough to look down at your hand touching his formal wear made you felt half satisfied.

you smiled, only one side of your mouth curved upwards, "hello, ayato," throwing his title aside, you brushed him off with the palm of your hand, "let's sit down, shall we? my legs are tired after all that exhausting trip to this stuffy place."

you can finally put your skills in acting to a good use, your sister words constantly replayed themselves at the back of your mind.

if you had earned the award for the best play back in your school theatre once, you shouldn't doubt yourself, right?

you sat before ayato could, something that you knew, was so rude to do, especially when the person in front of you was someone with an immense power in the politics and official affairs.

no one likes a woman who is too whiny, who often complaining over little things and rude, this sounded about right for you to worsen the date.

ayato sat down gracefully across the wooden japanese table, bowed down once again and for a moment, your heart dropped at his mannerism, were you being too rude whereas this person still acting like you didn't?

no, there was no way you should think of that when there was a generous amount of money on the line.

"greetings, lady y/n. i hereby acknowledge why you are here today instead of your sister. it's a pleasure to meet you—

"oh my, it's so hot in here," you abruptly cut him off, confidence taking over you for the second time. you fanned yourself rapidly, fingers silking through your hair slowly as if putting a show and ultimately loosened your kimono sash.

you could see ayato lifted his eyebrows at your brave attempt from the corner of your eyes, and you were confused as of why he didn't bring out any sorts of reaction because if you were in his shoes, you would get anyone who dared to do this kind of unholy and embarrassing thing in front of you out of the room.

however, you weren't going to expose your bare skin in front of the expressionless eyes, and instead exposed the undergarment underneath your loosening kimono, just enough for him to see the skin in between your collarbone and the bridge of your shoulders.

the length you were willing to take and make him disliked you was even beyond your own initial plan.

no nobleman likes someone who's exposing the skin, even the slightest.

"ah, that's more like it. what did you say again, hm?" you put your arms comfortably onto the surface, hands reaching out to the cup of tea that had been served prior your entrance.

the way your hands were trembling to act natural made you gave a nervous smile to the silent man, "ah, yes," you let a faint laugh at your own involuntary actions, stopping yourself before you sounded like an idiotic maniac. the other unoccupied hand slapped your head gently, as if you were slow at catching up with his words, "i am the younger sister," you took a sip, let the bittersweet taste engulfed your taste buds, "she didn't want to come as she is very much losing her interest in you and the date."

ayato tilted his head, eyeing you with such curiousity, "and so she sent you here because you are interested?" that was the only logic he could put out after waiting for you to take some time saying quiet unimportant things to him.

"sir—" the ceramic cup in your hand was long forgotten, and you accidentally called him by his dedicated title, "i assume that you are fairly mistaken. indeed i came here as a replacement of my sister but, by any means, i am nowhere interested in the date," you took a bite of the delicious dango in front of you, didn't even bother to offer him to dine in together.

"i understand."

you knew lord kamisato was a serious person and didn't like small talks from countless stories you'd heard, but you didn't know he was this serious.

you pointed him directly with the dango stick, mouth still chewing the remains inside and simultaneously voiced out, "i am not that eager just like what you had said earlier," you sighed heavily, shoulders visibly dropped pretending to be upset when all you could feel was cringe to do such things at him, "let me get my point across, i am not fascinated by the blind date," you took his portion of the dango that had been served for you two with the emptied stick, smiling slyly at him observing you with his arms now brought to his chest, plopping the said food into your mouth, "and you."

now that should hit him right on his face, a man will lose interest if the woman isn't, right?

ayato couldn't contain but chuckle lightly at your demeanor, something about you definitely entertained him and the said date. he signalled you to come closer, the black gloves definitely caught your sight as ayato fingers curled, and you did, not expecting anything from him, "i do prefer an honest woman over hypocrite who lies."

for a brief moment, you were stunned at his sudden commentary about your talks, eyes glued to the ethereal face he had, lavender eyes hinting such amusement at you who caught off guard. you didn't expect to see the beauty mark underneath his lips this up close. he was beautiful, might be the most beautiful man you had ever seen—

before anything, your rational side quickly took over your fuzzy mind, pushed him away playfully and slowly brought the strands of your hair behind your ear.

totally didn't expect ayato to make a comeback with those words.

ACT II

"anyways," you fixed your sitting position, smiling once again at the sharp gaze he sent to you. a sudden wave of nervousness approached you now that you knew this lord did know how to play around with his words. if you weren't aware of your acting, you would drop off the act and might ask ayato for his forgiveness as you were being unreasonable throughout this supposedly blind date.

"i have been with multiple men before," you continued, "total of five, or, wait, was it six already?" you tried your best to emit the red flag aura at him, even lying about your relationships when the truth was nowhere near, "all of them didn't last long though. the longest would probably be two months," acting like a random playgirl should be easy for you, and you were convinced that a man would ultimately push a girl away if they knew that the girl casually coming from a man to another as if hopping around to test the water without a single care in the world.

now that should be an easy toxic trait.

ayato casually picked up the boba drink beside him, and you were quite baffled to see lord kamisato nodding to himself, as if he was approving mentally at the sweet taste of the drink, "hey, listen to me while i am talking," you knocked the surface of the table repeatedly, and it was proven enough for ayato to look directly into your eyes. lord, did he even know how much confidence you were losing when he gave you that look, because you were indeed losing your sanity over his cold eyes.

"ah," he sure loved bringing his arms to his chest, eyebrows lifted up, as if he was mocking you, "you are telling me that you are aware of your wavering love life, and you aren't interested in me and our date. that says much that you are changing for the better," he tilted his head to the side, resting his amused face on the back of his palms, "you did some progress."

you almost coughed, why did he have to be so positive even in this current situation?

you said that not to tell him that you were finally serious in your fake love life, you said that to scare him off with how your fake previous relationships ended.

you almost groaned in distaste, it was harder than you thought it would.

unknowingly picking up the food, you kept on chewing and chewing, one after another, mind was racing with lots and lots of thoughts before you suddenly realised how stupid you might have looked in front of lord kamisato, maybe akin to a homeless man devouring the leftover food with such speed as if it was his last meal.

ACT III

"ah!" your high-pitched voice caught ayato attention to the fullest, if he was casually staring at you the whole time you were eating while his untouched portion was still there in front of him, this time around, he looked at you with a serious face.

the question of, "did something happen?" left his own mouth before he could filter his words, but the moment you looked up at him, faking your sad face, he knew you were playing with him yet again.

ayato was a genius for reasons. he literally knew how to read people easily as the outcome of years he was exposed to the dirty politics behind the scene since he was young. unfortunately for you, you were no exception.

the moment he saw you pulled up your hand, pecking 'your' diamond ring multiple times as you went, "oh honey, are you okay? does it hurt clashing with the plate?" he knew he was in for another scene.

"oh, i am so glad you aren't being scraped by this stupid glass slab. need to maintain your shine, okay? i spent a whole whopping millions on you," you cringed at your own words, pretending to be super into your mother's marriage ring she lent to you for the sake of your presentation on the date.

a woman who is crazy over luxurious things, no man likes that.. right?

only to see that lord kamisato wasn't even questioning your whole dramatic scene and he only reassured you with a small smile.

he was unbelievable, truly.

you couldn't think of any other things to act out, all cards had been played, yet the results by all of them were much more disappointing.

it was hard to make up your own stories here and there when lord kamisato genuinely asked you questions about your life, and because you were so clueless of doing anything to 'scare' him away from you, you followed along the conversation before the situation turned more tensed and worst.

of course, with some fake acts and complaints in between your answers.

"thank you for entertaining me," even after all those crazy acts you had put up with, he was still being respectful to you, accompanying you until the outside of the estate, sending you by himself while ignoring all the prying eyes. instantly, guilt came crashing down at you all at once.

despite feeling horrible doing all of the things to make the date unlikeable to lord kamisato, at least the money was guaranteed to be yours and the date was finally over! nothing could compare with the relief that washed you all over, it was definitely the best feeling you had ever felt once in a while.

however though, you still couldn't break the chain of acting you did throughout the date, you suddenly thought of a final card to make him remember that you were such an awful woman with an awful attitude.

the last card you could think of, here goes nothing.

ACT IV

"ayato," saying his name casually all this time actually made you felt less awkward now, and you immediately reminded yourself to keep yourself in check because lord kamisato was still the head clan of the known yashiro commission, and he was way superior than your humble being, "while you're thanking me for my fun presence," you twirled your hair, and winking at him, "i want to thank you for the free, magneficent food."

you didn't know how you becoming braver than usual, but you did, and the way you actually closed the gap between you a little bit closer for you to reach his ear, you knew he could feel your breath on his neck, because the space left felt too close even in your own consciousness, "and for the view of your handsome face too," you pulled away, faintly caressed his slight flushed cheek and his formal attire.

the way ayato slightly caught off guard seeing you acting like this, when he heard from the shuumatsuban that you were a dignified woman in their eyes, baffled him to say the least.

but the way your trembling hand came up to him just now, and the way you almost tripped yourself once again before you left his sight, ayato knew something wasn't right and it amused him.

you knew how to run your mouth, he gave that, and this, you being like this the whole time, actually peaked his interest.

ayato didn't like wasting his time in such things, and although you came into his life not so long ago, he couldn't help but have to admit that you definitely delighted him in many ways.

"my lord," thoma greeted him when he walked back to the main garden, relishing himself within the pleasant view in front of him. he didn't miss the way thoma eyes shone bright under the sunlight, and instantly knew, that his unofficial right-hand man wanted to ask him how the date went, like how he always did to him with the previous ones.

"how was the date? lady y/n seemed very nervous the whole time i walked her to meet you. it might have been nerve-wrecking for her to replace her sister as your date," thoma laughed when he was brought back to the memories and the loud silence between you and him a few hours ago, "she must have been very shy when she met you."

"oh?" ayato's voice sounded much more cheerful than he intended to let out. he found it more interesting hearing aloud on thoma opinions about you which in any case, was way more different than his, "is that what you think so?"

"yes, my lord," he paused, "in my opinion, she was very awry throughout the walk and she didn't even say a word to me. you could say that we were pretty awkward with each other as she was being very cautious about the whole situation and to me," thoma added.

ayato hummed upon hearing thoma further opinions regarding you. was it terrible that he found the date way more interesting than his own work?

if he was tired because of the preparations for the annual festival beforehand, then keeping up with your antics had been such a stress reliever for him. in some twisted way, he actually did mean his last words to you. you are entertaining him, even until now with you aren't even in his sight.

"thoma."

"is there anything you would like me to help, my lord?"

"no, thoma, it's not that," ayato smiled, the way he just remembered all those not-so ladylike things you did made him felt much more at ease now, "the date went well."

"my lord?" thoma couldn't stop staring at how the head clan answered him with a smile he never thought ayato would show after a date, "..what you meant is?" he just couldn't believe his own eyes, whether this was some sick illusion for him to see ayato smiling after all those frowning and serious mode he had set himself in within the past weeks for the sake of carrying out a successful celebration near in the future, for the sake of inazuma.

"the date," he repeated, fully turned himself towards thoma who was still in disbelief, "the date went well."

the words were the only confirmation thoma needed, maybe to ayato, the date went well as if 'went smoothly like all the blind dates he had been set up with before'. after all, ayato was known for saying two different things yet had the same meaning behind them.

"at least the date wasn't boring."

now that left thoma speechless, as ayato heading back to the estate, leaving thoma behind with more questions than ever.

seconds turned to hours, hours turned to days, and it had been more than two days since the date and all you could hear was how your sister convinced you that you shouldn't worry because lord kamisato wouldn't even bat an eyelid towards you. which, in all honesty, was the truth and the most logical thing to calm you down.

you were hopeful that you wouldn't come across the path with lord kamisato anymore, because remembering the acts you put out for a show towards him were haunting you even more than you liked.

a mere lady from an unknown clan wouldn't have a chance to meet lord kamisato again, that was what you had been saying to yourself for the past hours.

up until this moment, you wished to bury yourself underground and never saw the light of the day once again. you were so embarrassed, it was insane how you even had the courage to be such a low woman in front of lord kamisato.

on the brighter side; your compensation was settled and now you were finally, finally free from this burden.

on the darker side; your mother was so happy that one of her daughters apparently had been going through a date with an amazing man himself. if only she knew, how misbehaved you were, she might make you never stepped inside of the house anymore.

only the mere thought of it made you shivered.

"lady y/n," the call of someone made you snapped back from your tired mind and into the reality, too caught up in the past when you shouldn't, "you have been staring at the sakura tree for a long time now. what's the point of you taking turns with your sister to assist the shrine maidens when all you did was daydreaming the whole time?" the oldest shrine maiden gave you a lengthy lecture, and you bowed for too many times to count when you should be the one who took up this responsibility for the day.

the woman in front of you coughed, maybe she was too harsh on you. your status didn't define where you were currently standing in the sacred shrine, age and experiences did. that was probably why she often took you as if her own child, although your family clan was the one behind managing the shrine affairs here in this humble village.

"archons above, and in the name of the almighty shogun, please focus on your duty, lady y/n," she sighed exasperatedly, "tell me if you ever need something else," the woman gave you a bow before heading back towards the shrine, ultimately ended her scoldings onto you as you nodded your head followed after with a sincere apology.

with the shrine maiden out of sight, you took a stroll outside of the shrine for a while whilst looking up at the purple decorating across the canvas up in the air. today was unlike any other usual day of rains and storms, it was clear and fresh, and you basked into the momentary feeling.

here, on yashiori island, normal weather wasn't always sun and calm skies, thunders roared and heavy downpour were the norm to the people here, so to see that even the weather wanted you to ought peace put your heart at a more contented state.

this village and its people were those few who lucky enough to not affected by tatarigami decades ago, unlike how stories about the curse swept across the land and caused sickness and calamities to every living things on this island. sometimes, you were so grateful and taking such great pride of your ancestors for holding out and survived.

"y/n!" one left, and here comes another. the cheerful voice almost left you glaring at the person behind you, interrupting your peace when the mind went haywire was what you definitely needed the most right now. however, upon seeing the little boy who you so much adored waving at you, all your bad intentions died halfway.

"big sister! i totally don't expect to see you here," he ran to you with his little feet, grinning widely at seeing your face. the little boy was the son of the head village, often sneaking around knocking at your door to invite you playing a game of temari and a round of hide and seek.

he hugged your legs, and you quickly softened at the sight, "now, now, why are you here?" you patted his head. it was odd, but his little hug succeeded in slowing down your overthinking.

"father and mother are praying but it was so boring!" the mind of a child was so pure and fragile, you slightly chuckled at hearing his naughtiness, "good children pray too, you know? so, next time, if you go to the shrine with father and mother again, pray with all your heart. you might even get what you wished for!"

he looked up at you, his eyes were sparkling, showed that they were the most innocent pair you'd ever seen, "does that mean i can get to own a new toy?"

"yes, you can," confirming his statement with a thumbs up at the young kid, he then excitedly jumped up and down, "i have to pray well to get a new toy!" the way he was so joyful made you suddenly missing the feeling of doing what you wanted without thinking its consequences. ah, it would be so nice to feel that way again.

you watched him carefully, thinking that it would be a while for his parents to be done with their prayers. maybe you could watch over him for a moment, at least his presence brought comfort to you.

as if he could read your mind, the little boy took out a slip of bamboo from his kimono sleeves, "look at what i got today!" he said cheerfully, too eager to share the thing he mentioned within his hand to you.

you accepted the small piece of slip nonetheless, it read great fortune on it and you shook your head multiple times, "did you go and try your luck when your parents are praying?" the thing in your hand was in fact a fortune slip visitors always tried their hands on to know what they might encounter for the day at the shrine.

"yes! the big sister there told me that i will get super lucky today," he closed your hand with his own, as if giving it away to you and you tilted your head in confusion, eyebrows slightly raised at his actions, "and now i am going to share my luck with big sister y/n! now you and me will get super lucky for the rest of our life!" you heart warmed at his words, how much purer could this boy can be? you just felt the need to protect this boy from the dangers of the world.

wiping his face gently, you carried him on the back of your shoulders, and he opened up his arms, as if mimicking the flying birds he learned back in his class, "let's head back in. your father and mother must have been searching for you," you giggled when feeling him holding onto your shoulders dearly, "let's go!" he exhilaratingly swung his feet back and forth. it was really nice to not think about it for now, as your fullest attention was now on the boy on your back.

you settled him down once everything was safe, his little hand intertwined with yours before you spotted a group of shrine maidens—from what you saw with the outfits—grouping together at the front of the shrine, but what stood out the most was even the boy's parents were there amongst the crowd. it looked like as if the shrine maidens were paying respect to the two powerful figures around the village—the head village and his wife, with his son still clutching his hand with yours—that what you had assumed.

"father, mother, big sister y/n is here too!" he shouted, the child's voice caught everyone's attention and he let go of his hold, running towards his parents playfully.

you bowed down respectfully towards the parents from afar, giving them the nicest smile you could give out, legs continuing in hurry steps to catch up with the little kid that had long forgotten you behind him.

the closer you'd gotten, the air felt more suffocating than ever. something didn't sit right with you, not when everyone looked tensed and rigid the more you came closer. their postures told you everything.

you were about to question what happened, or why everyone was dead serious within the radius, but all you words died in your throat when you saw a certain blue-haired, tall and slender figure among them all. the white and pristine suit looked nothing but too familiar in your eyes and he was definitely the last person you would want to meet face to face.

his lavender eyes bore straight into yours and your steps halted midway from joining the crowd.

why does lord kamisato is here?

you were on the edge, panicking even more when he actually made his way towards you, was it too late to disappear now? you should have known better the moment you saw how the shrine maidens fidgeting their fingers from time to time. but then again, how would you even know it was him? out of all people?

"greetings," you just couldn't move your own feet, as if you had been glued to the same position all this time, even when your mind mentally told you to run away because the look lord kamisato gave you was screaming to you that he recognised you.

it was too unreal, your eyes must have been delusional and playing tricks on you. it could be it, yes, it was.

"lady y/n," the head village interrupted, as if trying to break you free from your stoic state, "this is the yashiro commissioner, sir kamisato," he introduced him to you when you didn't even flinch seeing the person messing up your mind and stared at him in disbelief. the people around you must have thought that you were just staring in awe when the reality was opposite of it.

"thank you all, for such company, but i would like to talk with lady y/n here. excuse us, as we need some privacy to discuss important matters," the way he punctuated those last words made your stomach churned oh so badly. why did he even instruct them to leave you two alone? you were dying of nervousness out in the open.

you wanted to curse, wanted to rip your hair apart, wanted to throw tantrum at the guy in front of you, he remembered your name, and now you were doomed.

a command was given, and everyone left scurried off, bowing to lord kamisato before the last one told him that if he ever needed anything, called her or any of them, only for the lord to shake her off, and said it was alright as he solely came here to visit the shrine.

you pleaded with your eyes to not leave you here alone with lord kamisato, but the young shrine maiden seemed to not catch your hidden intention.

getting anxious was the perfect way to describe this inexplicable feeling, there was no way lord kamisato wanted to discuss any matters with you. you never played an important role with the tri-commission, never really heavily involved with them except for your mother.

ayato, on the other hand, was thrilled to see you again. the desired feeling finally met its own end, the feeling to meet you again, because the only thing that made him lost interest in his works for the last two days was you, the only subject in his mind.

he never ever gotten off from his own tracks, or even strayed that far from his multitasking. people around him said that his mind was full of workloads, yet you, the ordinary lady from afar who he barely knew, was the one occupied his current state of messy mind.

often came up with questions about your whereabouts even when he didn't intend to, were you fine? did you eat well? because the last time he saw you eating at his place, the image of you devouring your—and his—portions made him smiled at the thoughts.

or, perhaps, did you miss him, just like how he did to you? he missed your intriguing presence, maybe even more when he just liked the idea of you entertaining him.

his speculation was right after all. you were just trying to ruin the date. the way you only looked at his black, shiny leather shoes convinced him that it was all an acting. you couldn't fool him, he knew it since the blind date.

the way you didn't dare to make an eye contact with him right at this moment convinced him that you were just an ordinary lady with a manner, and something inside him made him flustered looking at you smiling genuinely with the son of the head village back then.

"m-my lord," you finally greeted him properly after a moment of silence and the sounds of birds chirping, and ayato thought your stuttering was adorable, with the fact that you addressed him with his title.

it was such a sight to behold, the you from his own memories wasn't this attentive of her attitude.

while you were making a deep obeisance towards him, he never felt such triumph, the you from his mind wasn't this careful of her words and actions yet here you were stuttering, looking at all things beside him. all those feisty and bold words, they were gone.

"i beg your pardon, sir," you just couldn't stop shaking, mind went blank in seconds when you looked up at him silently pursuing you to continue with his observant eyes, "with all my utmost respects, what's the purpose behind your sudden appearance, sir?" you finally let out a sentence, it was taking ages and this was just not it if you wished to talk out with him any further.

ayato couldn't stop staring at you, from your less fancy kimono to your hands clasping together, he couldn't.

before he could respond to your question, he could hear the faint whisperings of others, did they know about the blind date? or you shut your mouth about it? because the look they gave to you was nothing less than analysing you, and maybe him.

that look a lot of people gave him once he took the name of his clan on his shoulders when he was younger.

"are you, perhaps, forgetting my duty as the yashiro commissioner, hm?" he brought his arms towards his broad chest, a sly smirk forming on his lips and you couldn't help but gaping at him, once again making yourself an utter fool.

all of the memories about your fake acting and the past blind date disintegrated within thin air along with the falling sakura, you were that shocked to see lord kamisato was actually in front of you again.

"the yashiro commission's duty is in charge of managing shrines, festivals and cultural events," you felt like a middle schooler when he gently reminded you again, only with that stupid, charming smile you wished to wipe off of his god-like face because it certainly did something inside you.

"i came here to supervise what is needed to be done, whether by the village or the shrine," he gave you a knowing smile, making you almost convinced that he knew you were here today, but it could be another trick your mind wanted you to fall into, "the summer festival is right around the corner. it would be such an inconvenient if you, and the whole village, missing out the festival. am i right, my lady?"

he talked as if this was his yearly routine, yet you didn't remember the stories of lord kamisato came to the village for such things, let alone the shrine. if he did, news must have reached your ears as quick as a flash.

"but it doesn't make any sense," your curiosity overpowered your anxious feeling, needed more detailed explanations from the man in question.

how much denser could you be? did he shall directly told you that he wanted to meet you, for his own personal matters? he lied to you, partially for covering the intentions behind his words, and the other was to make people surrounded him to be less skeptical.

it was funny, how he lied to you, when he was so sure that he hated lies and fake promises.

"oh? which part in my words that doesn't make any sense?" he leaned in, you didn't know how or when, but the space between you was slowly decreasing since the start of this conversation. his eyes zeroed on you before you turned red in embarrassment, "my lord, i-i don't think it's a good idea to act carelessly out here in the open," you turned your head away because having him this up close was too much for your heart to handle.

"and what's the reason, my lady? enlighten me," you swiftly increased the intense gap by taking a baby step backwards. his little actions irked you so much, it was definitely not a good sign for you to feel this flustered and shy. at this point, you knew he was messing with you.

"people are going to get suspicious, my lord," you gave out the best reasoning you could form, words after words came out of your mouth of why specifically he was the one who should be more careful, trying in convincing him to not stain his image, and all he thought was how adorable of you to becoming a stuttering mess, and it was all because of him.

if he only did this much, he wondered what would be your reaction if he did more, and why would you be so cautious anyway?

when lady guuji said he was a yashiro rascal, never would he thought that those words could be truer, especially when he went over such length to find you again here in this such modest village.

"i don't mind," all your words died, cheeks flushed upon hearing him, "it is quite pleasant to stumble across you once again, y/n."

did lord kamisato just, dropped all of his formalities in front of you? did he really call you only by your name so causally?

did he ever do this to somebody else?

you panicked for a brief moment, turning your head left and right before the line was clear. you didn't know why you were acting so recklessly in front of him, but the moment you pulled lord kamisato aside, far enough for other eyes to see and hear his last words that could rise suspicions and brought so many butterflies in your stomach, you were confused, either of your instantaneous actions, or even to your own feelings.

you didn't notice how long you held your breath, only to realise once you pulled your hand away from lord kamisato's and you regretted almost immediately at how sweltering the current situation was, a sigh of relief soon followed after, thinking that it would be safe to seek some explanations from him.

"sir, deepest apologies for interrupting you," you were really having a hard time to make your erratic breath steadier, it was harder when lord kamisato was taking his sweet time diverting his focus more on your words, "i am afraid if i misunderstood your words back then," you were at least trying to calm down, almost as if there was a war raging inside your brain telling you to behave at your best now that you had the only chance to sort things out that had gotten more bewildered as time went forward, "...and i truly think saying such scandalous words wouldn't get the best reactions out of public eyes."

ayato leaned onto the nearest flat surface behind him, intently hearing your apology and explanations as why you were quick to do beyond your thoughts, his arms crossing and he brought them towards his broad chest.

it was really entertaining when you tried to be alone with him, he thought. didn't you know if he being all alone with only you in front of him, hidden from prying eyes and gossips about him, that this made him wanted to just say out loud a more controversial topic to stir you than just those words he said beforehand? he only dropped your title, and you were already this alarmed.

he was definitely smitten, which weirded him out when his reasonable side took over his head.

again, he barely knew you, but why did he have the urge to make you his already?

"must i repeat myself, i don't mind, not even the slightest," you almost lost your footing hearing his direct answer, almost fell into his arms if not for the wooden fence that had been fenced throughout the outside of the whole shrine.

"w-what did you mean by that, sir?" he swore his heart melted seeing you became so bothered by his straightforwardness.

"let's just say that i am taking quiet a liking towards you, lady y/n," you were left speechless, as if someone took your breath away and you just couldn't believe what you were hearing. your sister words suddenly becoming more and more loud, he wouldn't even remember you, lies, she lied. she lied to you.

the plan, it actually backfired.

"i-i think you've gotten all wrong, sir—

you were sputtering nonsense, heart somewhat racing when you told yourself that this wasn't real, it wasn't the reality, "there's no way—

there was no way lord kamisato actually—

"relax, little one," you almost gasped hard hearing him addressing you, you didn't want to overthink. what did you hear again? were you this delusional to hearing nonsensical things? no, were you even fine in the first place?

"my lady," he should stop staring at you with such a gorgeous face, body towering over you. even when you were outside, the cold air added more red to your cheeks, you were literally burning, "are you alright?"

you were too stunned. eyes widening seeing how close you were with his figure, another step and there wasn't any space left. were you this close all this time?

why were you feeling so anxious? you were confused about your own feelings, but the way lord kamisato ultimately closed the little gap with a step forward, closer to you, your heart was beating so fast, it was the only sound you could hear beside your ears. it was piercing and you almost shying away before the warm feeling of his arms lingered around your waist.

if a passerby did come across seeing the both of you in such a questionable position, no, you didn't want to even think about it. it was already took a toll inside you to maintain focus on your overwhelming thoughts when his calm breathing beside the shell of your ear was the only thing you could give your attention to.

"ten dates," he whispered, low tone that never thought would awake something deep inside you, "go out with me for another ten dates. ten dates for me to prove myself, my lady," he sighed, tightening his hold with you in his arms, it was crazy how you fit him like a perfect puzzle piece, it was funnier that he would chase you, the girl who tried to leave a bad impression on him, only made him wanting for more, "i'll keep asking you out again and again, until your heart, too, has been settled in such decision."

with that, he pulled away to appreciate the beauty he saw within you, you were such a beautiful mess in his eyes. if he didn't maintain his composure, he might want to plant his lips on your forehead, he never thought he would be this stupidly craving for a little taste. this reminded him that he was still an ordinary man with such desires, only to be masked with a much more powerful and respectful title.

ayato was determined, and what he wanted, he often found a way around to achieve it.

it was a mistake to look at his face longing for you, too close, and you unknowingly melted in his arms, lost in his gaze, palms on his chest, fisting his suit a little bit too rough to calm your inner self.

butterflies dancing inside you, heart skipped a beat every single time he caressed your hair to the side to look at you more, to take in the sight before him because two days without your presence suddenly felt infuriating to him, the days after that date were bland and ayato thought to himself, was he always had been living such a dull life?

tensions multiplied the more you lost in his intense, ethereal, lavender orbs. you could practically feel the strong strings of attraction, and it was more than enough for it to swipe your balance away from your feet when lord kamisato took in a sharp breath, followed by his words of, "they said silence means consent, lady y/n. are you telling me that you are agreeing to my proposal, hm?"

you neither gave him a nod, nor denying his words, it was just too much. too much for your beating heart, and for your flustered state.

all you could do was gulping down the invisible lump in your throat for keeping such an intense eye contact for the longest time. you could see how serious he was about this, and your head thought that this might actually work for the both of you.

after all, you didn't know how, or why it happened, but you were just naturally attracted to lord kamisato more than you'd like to admit. ten dates weren't giving you any harms, right?

he leaned in, way closer than ever, and you eyes trailed down onto his pretty lips. it was hard not to stare, when he was a hair's breadth away from touching his lips with yours and—

"may i kiss you?" he asked you gently, securing his arms even more when he saw your eyes hinted a slight shock and yearning.

never in your life you would agree to such things impatiently, but you lifted yourself. somehow being in his arms felt too safe and brought you such comfort that you badly wanted to indulge in. you were freaking yourself out for behaving immaturely to this man, but all thoughts vanished once you felt his lips on yours.

gentle as breeze, soft as silk, the peck he gave to you was nothing more, or nothing less. it was perfect to not crossing the line, yet you knew there was no turning back when you pushed yourself more into him.

he smiled into the soft kiss, wishing to deepen the kiss, but he knew to be patient. was it bad that he wanted to cross all the boundaries just for you? it was ridiculous to feel this type of thing so early.

the way he held your face as if you were such a fragile being melted you in the inside, you unconsciously titled your face to feel more of him. all logical thoughts were nowhere to be found, all you could think of was how this man in front of you kissing you with such gentleness, and for a fleeting moment, you might have a tiny, minuscule crush on him.

to you, and to kamisato ayato, both of you might have to rethink the terms of love at first sight, because it definitely did work out its magic on him, and maybe, to you too.

taglist; @kazu-topia @sussydemon @hamayumis @a-fairytale @mouchie @achilleas-dream @stuckindreamland06 @nvicvi @kailluaken (usernames in bold are the ones that couldn't be tagged)

a/n; omg it has been such a long ride for me to push this fic out of the drafts. if you, the beloved reader, have reached this very end, thank you so much for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated as always <3

#🌼.writings #ayato x reader #ayato x you #ayato fluff #ayato angst #ayato imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #gesnhin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin imagines

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stardustpinkart · 2 months

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Lucifer transformed back into his normal form. "Sorry for scaring you. I see you've discovered singing." He mused, sitting next to him.

Adam nodded, grinning. "It's fun, I really like it. I think it sounds nice... Um- ... I'm sorry, which one are you?" Lucifer tilted his head and laughed lightly. "Lucifer. I usually stay as a snake when I enter the garden?" The man perked up. "Oh yeah! The white one! I'm Adam!"

Lucifer couldn't help but grin at the human's enthusiasm. He adored it to be honest. "Trust me, we all know who you are. How are you enjoying life so far?" "Oh, I really like it! I like learning new things about myself. So far I've learned that I like sweet things, like fruit, and soft things like those other horse things- with the.. branches.. on their heads?" "Deer?" "Yeah, deer, I like those."

The angel smiled along with Adam, just as excited as he was about his discoveries. "You wanna know what else is soft? Here, I think you'll like it." He extended one of his wings out for Adam to feel, accidentally brushing it against his side. The human jumped and covered his side, a surprised grin spreading across his face followed by a sweet sounding giggle.

Lucifer gasped and scooted closer. "You're ticklish! I didn't know we were giving that to humans! Oh this is great, you're going to have so much fun-" "What's.. What's ticklish?"

The angel grinned, excitedly. "Lift your arms a little bit, I'll show you." Adam did as he was told, lifting his arms up. Again, Lucifer extended his wings, gently brushing them against Adam's sides. The human snorted and slammed his arms down, laughing. Lucifer pulled his wings back to avoid having them stuck under Adam's arms, instead reaching out and gently digging into the sides of his tummy.

Adam shrieked and threw his head back, laughing. Not wanting to overwhelm him, Lucifer slowed to a stop, and pulled his hands back. After a moment of giggling and catching his breath, the human looked back up at the angel, sitting up and smiling.

"Can you do that again?" -------------------------------------------

Based on this cute lil fic I found on Tumblr :) Theres an abudance of Hazbin stuff at the mo, a lot of it really good!

Its nice to think how it might have been in the early days. I grew up catholic, schools and the like(though we didnet really go to church or anything) so I know a few bits. The basic stories, Adam and eve, etc. I believe Lucifer was gods most beloved angel, even had a diffrent name, untill he fell. And that supposedly it hurt him terribly when his beloved angel did.

So since Hazbin already has an alternate lore, what REALLY happened in the beggining. I'm sure Adam would be a lot more innocent to begin with, more pleasant, after all, being nearly made, exploring LIFE. The worst aspects maybe came later especially if heaven and its angels overlypraised him, "Adam could do NOTHING wrong", which led to his arrongance and rudeness and cruelty. Perhaps in the beggining, Lucifer and Adam were even friends? It was later events that changed all that.

There is NO sexual themes here, just that of COURSE, Adam and Eve were naked in the garden. They coevered themsleves in leaves in shame after eating the fruit of knowledge right?

I was stumped for colours cuz, they do seem to vary. Like, Sir pentious, his new form was a lot less scary and threatening in heaven. SO I figured, when he was still alive and just starting in the world, he would have a more mortal colour scheme yeah? As would Lucifer have a softer angelic colour scheme back then

I really enjoyed drawing this :)

#artwork #fanart #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin adam #before they were enemies #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel adam #adam #tickling #play tickling #soft tickles #play tickles #tickle #tickles #fluffy

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emilybeemartin · 10 months

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Ok ok ok ok listen. Because I have anxiety I feel it's my duty to say that this show won't be for everyone. I came to it over quarantine because my husband suggested we read Bernard Cornwell's series together, and I agreed because I liked Hornblower and knew this was the army equivalent and, let's face it, I wanted to see scruffy mid-thirties Sean Bean in uniform.

THE PREMISE:

Richard Sharpe is a lowborn rank-and-file soldier in the 95th Rifles during the Napoleonic Wars who is raised to an officer after saving Sir Arthur Wellesley's life (this all happens differently in the books, but the basic event is the same). Throughout the series, he rises in the ranks thanks to his bravery and heroism/recklessness, but he's always caught between two worlds--trying to be a leader of common men while never being accepted by the rest of the highborn officers.

Let's start with the bad:

CONS:

Look, this is a 90s drama glorifying the British army. So like, there are gonna be issues. Women are mostly romantic side pieces to be wooed and rescued, and there are plenty of subplots, verbiage, and stereotypes that didn't age well. Production values are low for the first few and so you've got battle scenes with like fifteen guys and a horse, which honestly I find endearing. But no episode is more cringey than Sharpe's Gold. Due to legal issues, the script had to be rewritten with none of the original material, and it turned into this bizarro semi-supernatural horror involving Aztec gold (in Spain, yes). It's completely different from all the other episodes, and even Sean Bean didn't like it (he called it a "mish mash," which is true). It's such a weird piece of work that we almost stopped watching the show, but we continued, and we were relieved to find that the rest of the series is markedly better. History Hack podcast does a great dive into why this episode was so whack.

PROS:

I MEAN COME ON

Sean really understood this character--absolute chaos on the battlefield and shy and awkward pretty much everywhere else. He's amazing in battle scenes and he's EPIC at acting wounded. But the scenes I replay over and over are when he's socially out of his depth and gets flustered and sputtery and so Sheffield the captions can't handle it.

Supporting cast:

You'll find a lot of your classic British TV favorites making appearances throughout this series, and the camaraderie among the riflemen is always fun. Obviously this is a dude fest, as stated above, but some of the women are also written and acted really, really well--- Assumpta Serna as Teresa is that winning combination of a love interest/action heroine who doesn't devolve into a damsel in distress, and even passes the Bechdel test on a few occasions. And Diana Perez as Ramona is so badass and enjoyable.

Locations: Aside from a few interior sets, these films are mostly shot outside on location, with practical effects and stunts. There's some gorgeous scenery of the Crimean peninsula standing in for Spain and Portugal, and it's just really fun watching these guys run around rocky escarpments and fields with flares and stage explosives going off around them.

Music: I saw someone tag the opening theme as "electric guitar jumpscare" and they're not wrong. It's wonderfully anachronistic and totally 90s and you'll never get used to it. But far better are the soldiers' songs John Tams threads throughout, as well as his and Muldowney's thematic scores, and you will always, always finish an episode with him singing "Over the Hills and Far Away" stuck in your head.

Filming Lore: There was a LOT that happened during filming. Everything from Paul McGann having to drop out as the lead to misadventures in filming in Crimea just after the collapse of the Soviet Union. History Hack podcast has an awesome series of "filming of" episodes with input from cast, crew, and historians, and Jason Salkey (Rifleman Harris) has a book called "From Crimea With Love" that details the batshit filming adventures. I haven't read it but he references it every six minutes throughout the podcasts.

So: you've been warned, you've been primed. Start with Sharpe's Rifles; it's on Youtube. Watch it and Eagle, maybe jump to Battle or Siege if you're not sure, and then make up your mind.

If this all sounds enjoyable to you, but you wish there were more tall ships, more Paul McGann, more heroic brooding, and even MORE true love cosplaying as masculine camaraderie, you're in luck! Because you should also watch Hornblower!

And then draw fan art of it all! Please,,, I am so lon el y

#sharpe #hornblower #sean bean #paul mcgann #ioan gruffud

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phyrestartr · 4 months

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HOUND | Miguel x M!Reader

Geneticist!Miguel x Guard!Reader Part 1 W/C: 2.5K | Part 1 of 2

Slight NSFW, zombie AU, apocalypse AU, mentions of exploitation and abuse, body horror, gore, immoral research and experiments, power imbalance, reader is a criminal, miguel is a scientist, dark themes, part 2 ends on a positive note, reader is morally grey, bottom!miguel, top!reader, sorry there's lore lol

Note: Wanted to post this bad boy in full, but the second half sorely needs some revising T-T It should be finished and up fairly soon, though! I hope this is ~intriguing~ for those who like darker stuff! Also I did a light edit on this part, but I really just want to get it out so lol sorry if things sound stupid/don't make sense asdjkf;l

There exists a cure.

That's what Alchemax declared. And it was the truth, just not the full truth. Not something the public would be happy with, anyway.

The so-called "cure" was…unreliable, only recoding the RNA of select individuals for a reason that Alchemax's geneticists struggled to identify for the longest time. But after combing through the files of each expendable inmate and finding similarities, it became clear: those who'd been in the presence of nuclear energy, or high amounts of radiation, were suitable candidates for the vaccine.

"Guess it's a good thing we didn't shut down those mines," Aaron had sneered at the board meeting. "Otherwise we wouldn't have the army of immune mutants running around for us."

Miguel rolled his eyes. Sure, the idiot wasn't wrong, but he was taking it too far; plenty had died because of their experiments, and plenty more of the "immune" were sure to die with the unknown side effects of whatever the vaccine was bound to show in a matter of years (or in mere months, if they were unlucky).

"It's a start," Miguel begrudgingly added. "But intentionally damaging civilian RNA with radiation, and then repairing it with S-2099, especially when we're not aware of any side effects yet? The UN won't have it. Can't imagine civilians would love it either."

"Well, it's either get bit and die, stay afraid and die, or get painlessly exposed to a blast of radiation and then maybe die if 2099 doesn't fix them like we think," Liv offered with a shrug. "I, for one, would be honoured to die in the name of science."

Miguel coolly looked over at her. "Thanks for volunteering."

Liv's expression twisted. The energy in the room would've exploded if it hadn't been for Stone's interjection.

"We will not be commencing civilian trials. Not until success rates increase with approved subjects provided by the state." The man spoke so steadily, so reasonably, like sacrificing the lives of orange jumpsuits meant nothing.

They were dismissed soon after. Screens flickered out, holograms faded, and Miguel found himself alone with the other few scientists left at their Nueva York location.

He stayed seated, vaguely aware of the others filtering out and murmuring amongst themselves, but his thoughts demanded his attention–he knew, even if the government didn't approve of essentially soft-nuking colonies of survivors, that Tyler Stone would find a way to do it, and would label it an accident. The man, his birth father, was ruthless, cold, calculated–

"Sir?" A voice, your voice, cut through the silence. Miguel looked over his shoulder and found you still waiting, standing perfectly still by the door.

"Sorry, I was just…" Miguel sighed and rubbed his face before standing. "Nevermind. Don't worry about it."

Of course, you didn't say anything, instead nodding wordlessly and following your ward out of the room. Each step you took was punctuated by the shifting of your firearm against your thigh and the heavy thumps of your boots against the polished floors. Miguel used to hate your presence, think it unnecessary, but soon he grew to feel comfortable with you as his shadow.

You, his powerful, mutant guard dog.

"I can't fucking believe what this is turning into," Miguel muttered on the way to his quarters. "Too many unanswered questions, too many risks. And they don't care? We haven't even run further simulations yet–and we can run simulations with different alpha rays and different subject samples. It'd be harmless." The door hissed open and Miguel walked in, sorely wishing he could slam the door for once. Why did everything have to be automated?

"In. Now," Miguel called when you stopped short of his residence. You obeyed, wandering inside before the door slid to a close behind you, and locked.

You had reason to be nervous, Miguel knew that, too. Each key scientist in the building was assigned one of your kind, one of the immune mutants, and were free to do what they wanted with them. Sex, torture, chores–all of it was on the table. All of it had been asked of your kind. Done by your kind. Miguel figured that was why you kept a wall up. You hardly spoke, didn't request anything, never complained–all in an effort to keep the peace between you and your owner.

Miguel threw his white coat aside before stalking up to you. "Let me see," he mumbled as he held your jaw and tilted your head as he shone the light from his phone into your eye.

Your pupils reacted at twice the speed of a normal human's, growing into the tiniest of pin pricks when the bright white flare assaulted your senses. Your eye twitched the slightest bit, but you remained still for Miguel.

"Reactive. Not dead. That's good." He put his phone away, and examined the scarlet blotches contrasting against the natural hue of your iris. It was a relatively new side effect experienced by most of your batch, but you were amongst the more severe cases, if not the most severe case. Most of his peers didn't seem concerned by it, and Miguel could understand, seeing as it appeared to only be cosmetic, but the increased reactivity of your pupil accompanied with the bloody colour intrigued Miguel enough to keep tabs on it.

"Any changes lately? To appetite, sleep, anything?" He asked as he let go of your jaw, nearly smiling as you tried to follow his touch for a moment longer like a sleepy cat. "Maybe neediness?" Miguel teased.

You huffed lightly through your nose and looked around the main room of Miguel's living space. "Tired, I guess."

Miguel's nerves smoothed with the sandpaper scratch of your voice. "Tired. Might be the anemia again. We'll draw blood tomorrow, see if you need supplements or another infusion." Miguel found himself mumbling now, going on about your health and your changes, wondering out loud what the best course of action would be to help you adjust to whatever was happening to your body, but you didn't say anything. You never did unless provoked.

Miguel decided to provoke. He needed to speak, to be spoken to, to hear someone else’s voice right now. "What do you think about all this?" He called from the bathroom after washing up for the night. He poked his head out a moment later when you didn’t comment.

“I know you were listening,” he prodded again over the toothbrush jammed into the side of his mouth. “The other ones don’t, but you do. I can tell by that look you get.” he waited for you to respond while he brushed his teeth, but you didn’t. You hadn’t moved from your post by his front door, actually, stood against the wall, arms crossed and staring forward like you were listening to everything beyond the door. Miguel wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen you sit down. He didn’t know if you’d ever laid down before.

After he finished washing up for the night, he decided to try again.

“You really gonna keep me in the dark?” Miguel asked as he walked up to you, arms crossed as well. He couldn’t help but feel smaller and smaller the longer he waited in silence, waited to hear your gravelled voice. He couldn’t grasp why he was so desperate for a friend suddenly, but he was. He really was, and he wasn’t finding it in you.

“Forget it. Doesn’t matter anyway,” Miguel mumbled, turning away from you and rubbing his face tiredly.

“Don't have much of an opinion.”

“What?” Miguel turned back around, brows raised as he waited for you to continue. Your gaze peeled from the ceiling and fell to him, like you were waiting for a reprimand of sorts, but Miguel wouldn’t, not when he tried so hard to get a peep out of you.

You shrugged and looked elsewhere. “Don't care what happens to civilians. Not my problem.”

“It's the world's problem,” Miguel suggested. He didn't want to start an argument, but he didn't want you to feel so blasé about the fate of everything. “The more civilians that get infected, the more the world loses.”

“Thought that was a good thing. Last I heard, the world was pretty overpopulated.” You said it so easily. Miguel would have shrugged it off if he didn't know about the blood on your hands, the crimes you'd committed, the evidence that you really, truly, did not give a shit about humanity.

Miguel scoffed, a bitter, bewildered sort of thing. “Y'know, I used to pity you for this,” he started, gesturing to the soldiered-out state of yourself, “but you might be less human than those things out there.”

“Probably.”

“You don't even care,” Miguel laughed again. “Did you care when you killed that family?”

“An eye for an eye,” you replied.

“Right, right. Then what about your daughter? Did you care when–” the world spun before his back cracked against the wall. He grabbed your wrist and squeezed when your hands fisted in his shirt, ready to trigger your kill switch with one click of a button on his ring, but he didn't need to; you simply held him there, boring holes into his skull with your diamond-tipped stare.

“You jokers don't know when to quit,” you said. “Always have to drag a kid into the equation, ‘n then act so fucking shocked when you end up dead ‘cause of it.” A sigh slipped past your lips as you leaned in. Miguel wanted to meet you halfway. “Fuckers like you make murderers out of men like me.”

Oh. The violence rippling through your crackling voice went straight down, into the pit below Miguel's stomach and coiled into something frightfully decadent. He wanted your hands around his neck. He wanted you to mutter more threats into his ear. He wanted–

He wanted you.

“Let me touch you,” Miguel blurted. “Your skin.” You gave a reaction then, eyes blinking away shock and throat clearing with a strangled grunt, but you didn’t say no. You didn’t reject him. In fact, you looked him up and down in question, curiosity peeking through piercing eyes.

“You're a deranged fuck, aren't you? Getting all hot ‘n bothered from a threat.” You reached for the straps of your kevlar vest, then, and Miguel’s nerves jolted with the sound of the buckles clicking loose.

He scrambled to you and held your hands. He wanted to do it himself, to unwrap your bindings and see what laid beneath. Your hands fell, and Miguel took over.

The warmth bleeding from your clothes intoxicated him. He fumbled with your gear, eager to get to the base of your tight, black shirt and rip it off, but you didn’t try to take over for him–you watched, patient like a dog, letting your master doff your armour at his leisure (or, rather, his frantic, desperate pace). Miguel appreciated it. He wondered if you knew he'd snap if you tried to interfere.

Soon, your chest was bare. Exposed for him, dotted with memories of cruel bites, bullets, knives and surgical scars all over taught, humming skin. Man shouldn’t be allowed to touch you, Miguel thought. The imperfections were so gloriously human. You were so perfectly alive, standing here with him, breathing, emanating heat, allowing him to do what he pleased–he was the luckiest man on Earth.

Miguel couldn’t look you in the eyes as his broad palm pressed against your chest, right over the rhythm of your soul. His pants strained and tightened more as his touch wandered through the valleys of firm muscle; what did the rest of you look like? What did you look like when you fought, or when you fucked?

His hand slipped down to the tight adonis belt cinching your waist, and then lower, following the trail of fine hair disappearing beneath the waistband peeking above your cargos. The bunching and folding of thick material melted Miguel's mind in a vat of suggestion and insatiability–were you really that big, or was that fabric just making it an illusion?

He didn't need to wait to find out, though, not when you guided his hand down over the very real curve of your goods packed away. And, yes, you were big. Miguel's eyes snapped up to yours. A smug look greeted him.

“Looked like you needed some encouragement.”

Miguel might have laughed if his heart weren't suffocating him, climbing up his throat. Your clothed cock under his hand was ruining his cognitive functions too, to be fair.

His fingers, long, clumsy things, hurried at your buttons and the zipper keeping everything in check. Miguel's ears filled with the rhythmic drumming of desire when he finally got the damn thing undone, but you grabbed his wrist. You stopped him.

Miguel scoffed out a held breath and tried to wrench free, but your grip held firm. “You can't back out after–” But when he looked at you, he froze still; your expression electrified the senses, the slightest narrowing and shifting of uneasy eyes freezing Miguel colder and colder by the second.

“Bathroom. Now.” You popped just one of those buttons back into place before turning to the door.

“Wh–” But you shoved him, hard, and sent him stumbling into the sterile white space as explosive carnage rippled through the room in his wake. The thing collided into you seconds after you'd gotten your charge out of the blast zone.

It was big. A mass of human features and flesh and maybe something else weighing on a hulking frame. You barked a name, maybe the name of one of your fellow watch dogs, but it didn't change the thing's trajectory as it tore towards Miguel on all fours like a hound out of hell.

But you were quicker. You grabbed it by the nape and ripped it off its warpath with too much effort, just narrowly avoiding it barreling into the attached room by seconds. Its momentum, forced toward the wall, threw it into a dizzied tantrum; limbs flailed, mouths gnashed, and a symphony of mismatched voices wailed from their putrid prison.

Miguel's body locked. What ifs plagued him, suddenly. If it got him. If it bit him. If you hadn't been there. What if–

“Close the damn door,” you demanded, and your voice sounded a bit shaky, too. Miguel looked at your broad back as you stood bravely in the way of the beast and its target. “Doctor–”

“I–but you–?” Miguel stumbled and choked on his words and his reasoning. He didn't want you to fight. He didn't want to die. He didn't want you to die. Miguel hit the button to make it closed, but the door stalled halfway.

“Fuck it.” Barbs burst from your fingertips and dug into the door, forcing it to bend to your will and close. Miguel didn't like how you disappeared inch by inch. He didn't like seeing that thing behind you get up. He didn't like that look you gave him just before the door snapped shut.

The next few minutes passed like years.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr

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starrclown · 3 months

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Random things in my Hazbin Hotel rewrite that I added for lore, character, or because I think it's cool

(I might do this for my Helluva Boss rewrite because these take up alot of brain space and I wanna infodump so Tumblr is my bitc-)

Triggerwarning: Talks of death, suicide, murder, other nasty stuff.

Angel has a daughter named Isabella. (This is Angel Dust. I took the Dust out of his name because in my rewrite Angel is ashamed of his drug addiction. I wanna clarify incase someone gets confused.)

Angel and Husk were born in the same year, 1891. Angel died at 56 while Husk died at 86.

Husk and Valerie (Vaggie)are probably the most innocent at the Hotel.

Angel, Alastor, and Nifty have all killed people. Nifty has only killed one person, her husband.

Both Angel and Nifty were married when they were alive.

Sir Pentious is now a girl. She is now Madame Pentious.

Husk is Transgender.

Husk has a Russian background. He also knows Russian.

Angel and his family are not from America. His family are immigrants from Italy. They came to America when he was about 7.

Alastor is black. He's not mixed anymore.

Cherrie is almost deaf. She can hear somewhat but she is almost excessively deaf from being around explosions all her life.

Angel is blind in his right eye. Things... happened to it.

Since Cherrie is hard hearing and Angel has only one eye, they help each other alot. Angel learned sign language to talk to Cherrie if she's having a hard hearing day. Cherrie usually walks around with Angel if he's in a unfamiliar area.

Both Alastor and Angel are overlords. (I'm gonna have to work out what makes a overlord a overlord )

Charlie is a doll. Litteraly. Her parents made her with demonic magic. (More like a puppet but you get it.)

Charlie has a bad relationship with Lucifer. Lilith on the other hand is a loving an attentive mother.

Valerie even though she doesn't look like it, is very good with certain weapons. Not good with hands on though.

Mimzy and Angel are good friends.

Vox and Velvette don't like Valentino. They stick it out with him because their territories are objectively smaller than Valentinos. They are both weaker than Valentino.

Vox and Valerie have the biggest inferiority complex out if the main cast.

Tom Trench has had a crush on Katie Killjoy for about 20 years now. Katie is aware of it. She toys him along all the time.

Valerie can't speak.

Vox and Angel have a brother like relationship. Velvette shares the same thing with Angel. Only Velvette likes it.

Nifty was the youngest to die. She's 18.

Husk was the oldest to die.

Considering Nifty died so young she often can revert to a teenage life mindset. When someone (Mostly Angel) treats her like a child because that's what she is, she gets upset. Really upset. She doesn't understand why everyone treats her diffrently.

Nifty also tries to argue that she's grown up because she not only had a husband, she has to be bad like a adult because she's in hell.

Alastor shows blantent favoritism when it comes to the treatment of Husk and Nifty. (Hint: Husk ain't the favorite.)

Alastor is actually pretty nice. Despite how evil his is he is genuinely kind to most people. He was raised to be a gentlemen so he never really let that go as a adult.

When you die, after a significant amount of time, you can recive objects from your human life. There is two ways you can obtain objects from your human life. You either have it on you when you die or someone gives it to you as you die. Like being buried with a object or a object being set on your grave. This is how Angel has some memories of his family, someone set a scrap book on his grave. He has his necklace cause he was wearing it when he died.

Angel killed himself. He intentionally overdosed.

Charlie has biased when it comes to sinners. She's unaware of it but it's there. Charlie shows favoritism to younger sinners and to sinners who died from unnatural causes or to wronged sinners. This is demonstrated in the main cast. Charlie treats Nifty, Valerie, and Alastor better than Angel and Husk. She doesn't treat them hostility by any means but she gives alot more leeway to those three then Angel and Husk. She treats Angel objectively worse. If something bad happens and Angel has a part in it, then Angel will most likely take blame. She treats them worse for diffrent reasons. Angel because he killed himself and Husk because of how long he lived.

While Charlie doesn't like killing sinners, she will if pushed far enough.

Angel hides what he actually looks like. He didn't come down to hell looking as he does currently.

Valerie will do almost anything to get validation. Her self hatred is that big.

I have more but this is getting long.

Ask questions if you want. If your curious.

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

#hazbin hotel rewrite #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel mimzy #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel criticism

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beskarandblasters · 9 months

Note

okay pls just like SOFT Cass on Niamos before he gets arrested having just a soft beach vacation moment with the reader thank u xoxox

Summer Fling, Don’t Mean a Thing

Cassian Andor x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cassian Andor Masterlist

Author's note: I tried to follow Star Wars lore in this one so you need to know that sunscreen oil = Star Wars version of sunscreen, bathing togs = bathing suits, revnog = alcholic beverage and peezos = poppers/pills

Summary: You're working at Neptune's Resort, a beach front hotel on the planet Niamos. And that's when you meet a mysterious stranger with a lot of credits who calls himself Keef Girgo. What started out as you just showing him his room turns into the best summer romance of your life.

Word count: 7.3k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, drinking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (pull out method lmao), oral sex (male and female receiving) little bit of nipple play, fluff, Cassian being a romantic, semi public sex, drug use, some light jealousy, angst, pet names (sweetheart, baby), no use of y/n

It’s another typical day for you at Neptune’s Resort on Niamos; standing at the front desk and checking people in. It’s the officially busy tourist season for Niamos and you should've had your break forever ago. But the line at the front desk has been endless; a non stop flow of travelers from all corners of the galaxy.

Finally the line is starting to let up. One last guest walks up to your desk and you’re already captivated by him; dark hair, dark eyes and an accent that you can’t quite place where it’s from.

“I’d like a room, please.”

“Sure thing, let me check what our availability is, sir,” you say, scrolling through your holo-pad.

You feel his eyes scanning you as you search for a room for him. And to his luck there’s one left. But it’s one of the most expensive rooms in the whole resort with an ocean front view.

“So we have one room left but it’s four hundred credits a night…”

“That’s okay.”

“Oh, s-sure. Let me get your reservation set up for you.”

You’re surprised. The man in front of you doesn’t look like he comes from money particularly. Yet he’s already pulling out the credits for the first night’s down payment and setting them on the desk.

You slide the credits into your hand and put them in the drawer before returning to the holo-pad to finish setting up his reservation.

“Name?”

“Keef Girgo.”

“And how many nights are you staying?”

“Uh, I don’t really have a set amount of time. At least a week or two.”

You raise an eyebrow before returning your gaze back to the holo-pad.

“Right well this room is available for another week but after that we could move you to a different one if you plan on staying longer.”

He nods and you hand him his key hard.

“Go all the way down the hallway and at the end make a left. It’ll be the first door on your right.”

“Thanks,” he says, taking the key card from your hand.

You walk out from behind the desk, just looking to take your much needed break. But Keef asks, “Oh, are you showing me to my room?” but not in a rude, expectant way; almost like a hopeful tone.

“Oh! S-sure I can show you.”

You lead him down the hallway and feel his gaze all over your backside as you walk. And though you can’t see it, his eyes gravitate to your hips and the way they sway when you walk. You hang a left and stop at his door.

“Well here you are,” you say, turning to face him.

“Thank you,” he says, stepping closer and leaving only a small gap between the two of you. His eyes meet yours before trailing down to your face to your lips.

“Y-you’re welcome. Enjoy your stay! See you around,” you say before walking back to the lobby. You hear the beep of the key card opening his door behind you and you turn to get one last look at him, only hoping to get a glance of him from behind but to your surprise he’s already looking at you. He smiles at you and gives you a small wave. You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment so you turn on your heel and quickly walk away. You walk through the lobby and go down another hallway past the resort gift stop, heading to the break room. The door slides open and you walk inside with a heavy exhale, closing your eyes.

“So who was that?” you hear a voice ask.

Your eyes fly open and you see your coworker, Mara, sitting at a table across the room. You walk over and pull out a chair, sitting down across from her.

“Who?”

“That last guy at the desk! You went down the hallway with him.

“Oh you saw that?”

“Mhm.”

“Just a guest. I was showing him to his room.”

“I didn’t realize you did that for guests,” she says, a smile spreading across her face.

“I don’t! He just… asked?”

“He asked??”

“Sort of? I was just going to my break and he asked if I was showing him to his room.”

“How long is he staying? And what room?”

“At least a week or two. One of the ocean front rooms.”

“Oh so he’s got moneyyy. You might have a new friend for the next few weeks.”

“You’re funny. He’s just a guest. Are we still on for drinks tonight?

“Of course I am, girlfriend. See you later after my shift!” she says, getting up from her chair and heading back out into the lobby.

You spend the rest of your break trying to forget about the mysterious guest who checked in today. But frankly, you spend the whole rest of your shift doing just that; trying to forget about him and his eyes. So that when the end of your shift comes you’re excited to drink with Mara and finally have a chance to forget.

You change out of your work uniform and into clothes you brought with you for tonight. You head to the Neptune Resort lounge and find Mara sitting at the bar. It’s packed tonight, filled with patrons of all different species, smoke hanging heavy in the air. You walk across the room to the bar and sit next to her. She already ordered you a drink, revnog. She slides it across to you.

“You’ll never guess who’s here?” she says, taking a sip of her drink.

“Hmm let me guess. The new clerk from Arkie’s you have a crush on?”

“Shh don’t be so loud!” she laughs, playfully slapping you on the arm, “And no, not him. Your new favorite guest,” she finishes with a tilt of her head.

You turn your head to the direction she gestured to to see Keef sitting at the opposite end of the bar. And he happens to be looking directly at you. You give him a small smile before turning back to Mara.

“Go over there and talk to him.”

“What? No, it’s girls night!”

“So? He’s not going to stay here forever. Go over there!”

“Okay! Okay! I’ll do it.”

You watch her face shift from excitement to shock; she’s looking at something behind you. You turn around to follow her gaze to find Keef standing right behind you, drink in his hand.

“I’m gonna go to the ladie’s room!” Mara bursts out before shooting you a wink and walking away.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly.

“Hi. I heard you two talking and I figured I’d just come over to you.”

Shit, he heard all that?

“Ahh I’m sorry about her. Her voice carries.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he laughs.

“So where are you visiting from, Keef?”

“Coruscant.”

“And what do you do there?”

“I repair droids. Are you from here?”

He does that thing with his gaze again, shifting from your eyes down to your lips and then back up to your eyes again.

“Born and raised,” you reply.

And a simple conversation filled with small talk turns into playful banter in no time. Your body language goes from stiff and controlled to open and comfortable. You sip your drink and lean into him, your hand grazing his bicep. Your touch lingering on his skin even after you remove your hand. And sure, the alcohol is loosening you up a little. But talking with him feels natural the longer it goes on. The conversation keeps going back and forth, never missing a beat.

Before you know it the space between you two is getting smaller, so small that you can smell him. He smells like the sun, saltwater, and sunscreen oil. You look closer at his face, the apples of his cheeks and his nose a little sunburnt. He must’ve gone to the beach today. And all of a sudden you’re picturing him walking out of the ocean; his hair wet and slicked back, water droplets hanging off his bare chest, the sun hitting him perfectly. Now your eyes are exploring his face; his nose, his dark eyes, the stubble growing in, his lips…

Without a second thought you’re leaning into him and pressing your lips against his. You take in all of him; his scent, his stubble tickling your face, his hand on the small of your back, the taste of alcohol on his lips. You pull back for a second but his mouth follows yours, not wanting the kiss to end. His hands caress either side of your face before returning his lips against yours. His tongue brushes against your lips, asking for access. You want to give it to him but you’re also painfully aware you’re in a crowded lounge right now and that there’s other people at the bar with you…

You pull away and worry flashes over his face, like he’s afraid he did something wrong.

“Do you mind if we go-”

“Back to my room?” he finishes, as if he read your mind.

“Yes, please,” you say, grabbing your bag off the back of the stool.

You turn and scan the room for Mara, just wanting to tell her you’re leaving. You spot her sitting at a table in the corner of the room with a drink. You start to walk over to her but she waves you off and mouths “Go!!”

You shoot her a smile and wave goodbye before interlocking your hand with Keef’s and exiting the lounge together. The walk back to his room is playful, both of you swaying back and forth and hanging off one another. You reach his room and he fumbles around in his pocket for his key card. He finds it and scans it on the sensor but not before giving you a sloppy kiss, not able to keep his hands off you. As soon as the door is open he pulls you inside. You laugh at his eagerness to have you already. Because the second the door closes you’re up against the wall being showered in kisses and his hands roaming your body. Your hands tangle themselves in his hair, tugging at his locks lighty and eliciting a soft moan from him. Your senses become overwhelmed, completely enveloped in every aspect of him. In a rhythmic push and pull the both of you end up at the bed in the middle of the room. You sit on edge, pulling off your dress over your head and watching his eyes scan your form and his mouth fall open. You expect him to get undressed, too, but instead he falls to his knees right in front of your legs. He spreads your thighs apart and hooks his fingers at the seam of your underwear, pulling them down in one swift motion. His hands move to your sides, applying pressure ever so lightly to get you to lay down.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he says softly.

You oblige and lay down on the bed, closing your eyes in anticipation. You feel his warm breath at your core and it sends a shiver up your spine. He chuckles at your sensitivity to just his breath before licking one slow stripe up your cunt which sends even more shivers up your spine. His tongue goes straight to your clit, lapping small, quickly circles around it. But when he starts sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves that’s when he’s got you arching your back and gripping the sheets. His fingers slide up and down your entrance, marveling at how soaked you're getting. He removes his tongue from your clit for a moment, much to your chagrin. But that’s quickly replaced by intense pleasure as he slides a finger into your cunt and replaces his tongue on your clit. His tongue and his finger work simultaneously, mirroring each other perfectly. One hand continues to grip the sheets but your other hand moves to his hair, tugging at it and pulling him even closer into you. You feel him slide a second finger in and you know you’re not going to last. You grind your hips into his face and hand and before you know it you’re coming against him. The muscles in your core contract and release erratically as you close your eyes in pleasure. Your release soaks his hand down to his wrist and coats the lower half of his face. He lets you ride out your high, leaving his tongue on your clit and fingers inside your cunt, just getting joy of feeling your cunt cum thanks to him. But eventually the movement of your hips slows down and he removes his fingers and mouth before removing his clothes, tossing them on the floor in a strewn about pile. He sits beside you on the bed and looks down at you with complete adoration in his eyes, watching the rise and fall of your chest and the way your lashes fan out on your face when you close your eyes.

“Ready for more, sweetheart? Or are you tapped out?” he chuckles.

“No, no!” you blurt out, probably a little too quickly.

You move up farther on the bed, resting your head on the pillows by the headboard.

“Where do you want me?” you ask.

“Just like that,” he says softly.

You nod and spread your legs open. He situates himself between your thighs and brings his hand to your cunt again, collecting your wetness in his hand. He spreads it onto his cock, giving it a few strokes before aligning himself with your entrance. He grabs your hand and pushes into you slowly, studying your face for your reaction to him. You let out a small gasp, keeping your eyes locked with his eyes as he begins to thrust in and out of you. He pins your hand above your head, keeping intertwined with yours while he picks up the pace, driving his length deeper into you. Your walls tighten in anticipation of a powerful release and he can feel it.

“You can do it, sweetheart. Cum for me,” he says looking down at you.

With one last slam of his hips into you you’re coming around his cock, your cunt fluttering around him. He holds in his own orgasm as long as he can so you can finish riding out your high. And when you’re done, he pulls out and paints your stomach in ropes of cum before laying down next to you on the bed.

Panic starts to overtake you. The intrusive thoughts kick in telling you to leave. But instead you’re enveloped in Keef’s scent, the soft sheets, and the warmth of his touch. Running away can wait until tomorrow morning. For now, you rest.

The morning light peaks in through the curtains. You roll over on your side and see Keef sleeping peacefully next to you. And that’s when the memories of last night start to hit you; the lounge, the kiss, the walk back to his room, the sex. You sit up and rub your eyes. You’re a little groggy from the post-sex sleep and the alcohol. But thankfully you’re not hungover. Although you’re feeling sick with something else; regret. You’re not one for one night stands to begin with. And he’s a guest at your place of work for crying out loud. But… you did feel a connection with him last night. Then again, it could be the alcohol talking…

You get out of bed and quietly as you can so you don’t disturb Keef. You look around the room now that it’s light and you’re not drunk and preoccupied and it’s nice to say the least. The room is complete with a bed in the middle adorned with soft cream colored sheets and a large attached bathroom. These are the most expensive rooms in the whole resort, you’ve never even stepped in one of them in your time working here. It makes you wonder… does a droid mechanic make enough to stay in a room like this for an indefinite amount of time? Coruscant is an expensive place to live but the lack of plans to leave Niamos has you contemplating. You look down at him sleeping on the bed and your mind starts to wonder… Who is this man?

You grab your underwear from the floor and slip them back on. And that’s when he stirs for a moment. You stop what you’re doing and wait for it to pass. When you think you’re in the clear you pick up your dress and start to step into it. But just as you get one leg in, Keef wakes up, his voice stopping you in your tracks.

“You’re leaving?”

“Uhh-”

“Do you have to work?”

“Well no, but-”

“So stay.”

“What?”

He moves to the side of the bed you’re standing at and looks up at you, taking your hands in his.

“Stay with me.”

“You want me to?”

“Of course I do.”

You sit beside him on the bed. “Okay… what do you wanna do today?”

“We could go to the beach.”

“Sounds good! I just have to go home and get my stuff. I went to the lounge straight after work.”

“So you need a bathing tog?”

“Yes, but I can just run home real quick. I don’t live far-”

You cut yourself off when he gets out of bed (still completely naked) and walks over to the refresher. He comes back with a handful of credits and says, “Here. Go to the gift shop,” reaching his hand out to you.

“Keef, I can’t. This is really generous but I could never.”

“It’s on me,” he says, grabbing your hand placing the credits in your palm with a couple of his hand.

“O-okay, do you want me to go now and meet you back here?”

“Sounds good,” he replies, followed by a tender kiss on your lips.

He goes back into the refresher and turns the water on. You finish sliding on your dress and put on your shoes before tossing the credits in your bag and heading out. You’re painfully aware that it looks like you’re doing the walk of shame in your place of work, complete with sex hair and last night’s clothes. You try to keep your gaze on the floor to avoid making any eye contact with your coworkers. But as soon as you enter the lobby you hear Mara’s voice coming from the front desk.

“Well look who it is!” she laughs.

You look up and make eye contact before walking over to her, cheeks going hot with embarrassment.

“Could your voice be any louder?” you tease.

“Sorry, just couldn’t help but notice someone had a really good time last night. Last night’s clothes, matted hair– You spent the night!”

“Indeed I did.”

“Are you going home now?”

“Not exactly… he asked me to spend the day with him.”

Her eyes widen in disbelief. “Really? What are you guys doing?”

“Going to the beach. And then I told him I didn’t have my swimming togs and he gave me credits to go buy some at the gift shop??”

“Girl, what did I tell you? He’s got moneyyy and you have a new little friend,” she jokes, adding a sarcastic emphasis on the word “friend”.

“It was just one night.”

“Most one night stands don’t continue into the next day… or spoil you.”

“Okay fine! Maybe you’re right.”

“Do you like him at least?”

“I think I do.” “Well then go get your bathing togs and get back to him already!” she says, shooing you away, “But just know I’m living vicariously through you.”

You laugh and wave to her before walking across the lobby to the gift shop. You pick out a set of bathing togs, a matching two piece in your favorite color, and head to the checkout counter. The clerk is one of your coworkers that you don’t know that well but even she could tell that you’re here in yesterday’s clothes. You avert your eyes from her as she cashes you out and hands you your bag, hastily giving her the credits needed before getting out of there as fast as you can.

I just need to get to the beach already, you think to yourself, picking up the pace as you walk back to his room.

You knock on the door for him to let you in and he answers the door shirtless still but dressed in his own bathing togs. He steps to the side and lets you in. The door closes behind you as you go to hand him the leftover credits but he shakes his head and says, “Keep it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he says, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you into him, pressing a kiss on your temple.

You lean into him for a moment, just allowing yourself to just be held by him before pulling away to change. He watches you as you get undressed and though you were just naked with him last night you’re feeling a little self conscious. But you look over at him and the way he’s watching you and your ill feelings melt away. All thanks to the way he’s admiring you. You finish changing as he comes up behind you in the mirror beside the bed, draping his arms around your shoulders. Every time he touches you it sends little currents of warmth throughout your body, leaving your stomach swelling with butterflies.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you respond, examining your joint reflection in the mirror.

He lets go to grab the towels and the two of you are off to the beach. His hand interlocks with yours as you walk down the steps to the crowded coastline. Luckily there’s an open cabana left. You drop off your bag and the towels before heading to the ocean, spending time floating in the gentles for a while. The conversation between you and Keef never hits a lull; always lively like you’ve known each other for ages. You have strangely deep and meaningful conversations with him even though you only met the day prior. You can genuinely feel yourself falling for him but you mentally chastise yourself for getting so attached already.

Eventually the two of you head back to the cabana and lay down in the sun. But not before helping each other apply sunscreen oil on each other’s back and shoulders. You can’t help but notice the way he tenses up underneath your touch and wonder if he’s feeling the same as you do.

You lay down underneath the sun together, conversation still flowing effortlessly. Except this time it does go quiet. But not in an awkward way. Instead he rests his head in your lap, closing his eyes and resting peacefully against your soft skin. You bring your hand to his hair, stroking it gently and feeling him melt into your touch. The sun hits his resting face perfectly, highlighting every detail of him. You get the sense he desperately needed rest like this.

And so the two of you stay there for a while, him sleeping soundly in your lap as you people watch and admire the rolling waves. He’s going to feel guilty when he wakes up, for just falling asleep on you like that. But you don’t mind in the slightest.

You fell asleep, too. The both of you waking up feeling a little cooked, a slight tan gracing his face. He apologizes profusely like you predicted but you do your best to reassure him that you didn’t mind.

But now it’s nearing the end of the day; the end of your day off which means back to work tomorrow. And you really need to get home. You walk back to the resort with him, hands intertwined again.

You turn to face him on the edge of the resort overlooking the beach and say, “I’d stay with you longer but I really have to get home.”

He nods like he understands but he also asks, “Will I see you again?”

“Of course you will. You know where I work,” you tease.

He pulls you in by the waist for one last kiss before you part ways. You can’t see it but he watches your silhouette walk away until you’re out of sight.

You go home that night still trying to comprehend the twenty four hours. And when you’re bed you find yourself still trying to comprehend everything as you drift off to sleep.

Three days have passed. The resort got unfortunately extremely busy. You had to stay late the past two nights. Which meant no time with Keef for you.

But today you finally get off work somewhat earlier in the day and Mara asks while you’re in the break room, “Another girls night tonight? Or are you too busy with your new friend?

“Actually I haven’t seen him in a while,” you reply, trying to mask the disappointment in your voice.

“Girl why not? You know what room he’s staying in. Just show up.”

“Mara, please. I’d never do something like that.”

She sighs. “So girls night it is then?”

“Sounds good. After I get out I’ll go home and change.”

“See you tonight, girl!” she says as you leave the break room.

You finish out the rest of your shift, only about two hours, and spend the rest of the night silently hoping you’ll see Keef again at the lounge tonight. You start to walk home and that’s when you see him across the resort closer to the beach talking to… a woman.

Jealousy starts to course through your veins but you try to stop yourself before you let it overtake you. It was just one night stand but one night stand’s don’t typically last all the way throughout the following day. And he indicated he wanted to see you again. You can’t help it. The jealousy is fully manifesting now. But instead of going over there and causing a scene you just shake your head and walk home, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. You get home and decide to try and make yourself feel somewhat better. It’s girls night again tonight and if you’re brave enough you can find someone to replace Keef in no time. The resort is littered with rich guests. Although that’s not why you liked him in the first place…

You put on a dress, one that’s black and hugging your form in all the right places. You do your hair and makeup before leaving to walk back to the resort. You enter the lounge and scan the room for Mara. The lounge is even more packed than it was the other night. You weave around tables and slide past groups of people talking before you reach the bar at the back of the room where you find her sitting. She takes her bag off the stool she was saving for you and says, “Someone looks good tonight. Are you hoping to run into a certain someone?”

“Actually, no.”

“No??”

“I saw him talking to a woman on my way home.”

She sighs. “Men… They’re all the same.”

You both order a round of revnog from the bartender, downing it quickly and trying to have fun. But you’re in a mental battle with yourself. Part of you feels hurt; hurt because you thought maybe you felt something with Keef. But on the other hand you feel stupid for getting so attached to a one off fling.

But eventually after a few rounds Mara sees a guy across the room she wants to talk to. Her gaze shifts back to you with pleading eyes.

“Go! Have fun!” you tell her, shooing her off.

She did the same for you the other night. It’s the least you could do.

So that leaves you drinking alone at the bar. You’re sitting and quietly sitting on your glass, facing forward when you feel a presence on your left hand side. You turn your head slightly and see not Keef but another man sitting beside you.

“What’s a lovely lady like you doing here by yourself?”

“Girls night,” you reply nonchalantly.

“I don’t see another girl here with you,” he responds.

You tilt your head in the direction of Mara and say, “She’s over there talking to someone.”

“Maybe that’s what you should be doing.”

You turn your head fully and get a good look at him. He’s not terrible looking but the way he’s “flirting” (if you could even call it that) has you turned off.

“Should I?” you ask playfully.

He spreads his arms open as if to show off himself and says, “It’s all right here for ya.”

Ugh. At least he can keep you occupied while Mara’s gone. And so the two of you talk for a while. You learn his name is Sal and that he’s visiting here from Alderaan. The conversation is okay but eventually it goes stale. You zone out and look past his face, just wanting the night to be over at this point. And as you’re zoning out you see none other than Keef sitting at the end of the bar, his dark eyes fixated on the two of you. You can’t help but notice how tight his jawline is and the way he anxiously taps his fingers on the countertop. Is he… jealous?

“Would you excuse me for a moment?” you say to Sal, downing the rest of your drink and exiting the lounge, not waiting for a reply from him. You’ll worry about your tab later.

You wait in the lobby and pace in anticipation, wondering if your exit worked. And sure enough Keef follows you into the lobby, jaw softening when he sees you alone. His face relaxes as he pulls you into him by the waist, happy to just be with you again.

“I missed you,” he says softly.

You don’t say anything at first. You’re unsure of how to feel and how to respond.

He senses something off and asks, “Are you okay?”

“I guess I was just a little jealous when I saw you with that woman earlier today…”

“What woman…?”

“Earlier this afternoon,” you respond, cringing in anticipation of his response but also at yourself for even making this a thing.

“Oh sweetheart, I was just asking for directions to the Arkie’s.”

“Oh…” you say, looking at the floor and feeling a little silly.

“But it’s cute that you were jealous,” he says, grabbing your chin and turning your face towards his.

“Oh you mean like you were just now?” you tease.

“Mhm,” he says, not even denying it.

He leads you off into the direction of his room, arm still around your waist. He stops at his door and scans the keycard, pulling you into his room.

“So, sweetheart… Do I have to show you that I only want you?”

“Yes. Yes, please,” you blurt out.

He chuckles at your eagerness and softly says, “On the bed.”

You do as you’re told, sitting on the edge of the bed and about to pull off your dress over your head. But he doesn’t want to wait. He pushes you down lightly on the bed, kneels on the floor and spreads your thighs apart. He brings his mouth to your entrance, taking note as to how wet you are already. He licks one long, slow stripe up your cunt to drive you insane, flicking his tongue around your clit at the end. He hooks his arms around your thighs bringing your cunt as close to his face as it can go, completely inhaling your scent and your taste. His tongue moves back down to your cunt, leaving his nose to rub against your clit. You move your hips against his face, getting off on the feeling of his tongue in your cunt, nose at your clit and his stubble tickling your thighs. Not before long you’re coming against his face, your cunt spasming against his face erratically as you ride out your high. You coat the lower half of his face in your release and he laps up every last drop, making sure to comment on how good you taste. When you’re done he pulls away and stands up, getting undressed and ready to fuck you. But you want to pleasure him for once. You bring your hand to his groin, cupping his balls and stroking his already hard cock. He curses under his breath and says, “Baby you don’t have to.”

“But I want to,” you say, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“Okay,” he says softly, closing his eyes.

You bring your mouth to the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it before taking him in your mouth. You take in his length, as far as you can go, and wrap your hand around the part that won’t fit. Your other hand cups his balls slightly as you bob your head up and down, listening to all the sounds he’s making. He brings a hand to your hair and holds it gently, never really pulling on it. You feel him tense up and you know he’s close. He pulls out of your mouth, not wanting to finish just yet and moans, “Need you. Now.”

You oblige and pull off your dress before laying down on the bed. He positions himself in between your thighs before inserting his length into you, both of you sighing at the familiar feeling. He places your legs on his shoulders and drives his cock into you deeper and deeper, hitting the most perfect angles inside you. You look up at him as he continues fucking you, chest slick with sweat and his hair getting messier with each slam of his hips. Between all that and the way he’s looking at you with pure lust in his eyes it’s almost like sensory overload. He brings his hands to your breast, caressing the outline of them before bringing them to your nipples, bringing them to stiff peaks between his fingertips. The added sensation brings you to the edge. You cum around him, your cunt convulsing him like a vice. He keeps fucking you through your release, prolonging it and almost going to the point of over stimulation. But then he pulls out and coats your abdomen with his cum. He lays down next to you on the bed, pulling you into him so that you’re spooning. He traces the outline of your body with his hand as you rest together, coming down from the evening’s activities.

“Have I never told you how beautiful you are?” he murmurs.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. You’re perfect,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“You’re sweet.”

“You could stay with me, you know.”

“Hm?” you ask, feeling the sleepiness already taking you over.

“Mhm. Stay here with me. The commute to work will be so short,” he jokes.

“Okay,” you whisper, closing your eyes and letting sleep consume you.

Two weeks have passed since he asked you to stay with him. In the back of your mind you wonder how he has enough credits to do this and when he’s eventually going to leave but you try not to think about it. You’re loving how he treats you and how he makes you feel so you decided you’re just going to live in the moment and enjoy yourself.

He did have to move into a new room after a week, switching to one with the same layout but a few floors higher and a gorgeous view. The resort’s also been pretty busy. And on the days you work late it’s night to just walk into a room there with a warm bed and someone to hold you at night.

On your days off you two either spend time at the beach or around the resort. And since meeting him you’ve grown into the habit of drinking revnog and taking peezos when you’re really looking to have fun.

And that’s the case for today; another one of your days off. The beach has been really crowded all day so you’ve spent the day in the hotel room, twisted in the bed sheets, drinking revnog and popping peezos. Nightfall is approaching and you’re standing on the balcony with him when he says, “Let’s go to the beach.”

“Now? It’s getting dark out and this beach has a curfew.”

“They don’t patrol it at night. I’ve been watching from here,” he says, eyes scanning the beach as people start to leave.

You know what, why not?

“Okay,” you respond.

When it’s fully dark out the two you leave the room and walk down to the lobby where you see Mara at the front desk. She glances at the direction you’re headed and pieces together you’re going to the beach. She gives you a knowing look and mouths “Have fun!” You shoot her wave and continue walking with Keef.

You get to the beach and it’s so peaceful at night when it’s not packed with tourists. You pick out a cabana at the water’s edge and lay there together, just watching the waves. The moonlight illuminates his face and you think again just about how happy you are.

“I wish you could stay forever,” you say softly and also subconsciously.

“Who says I can’t?”

“I mean you have to get back to Coruscant eventually.”

“Right…” he says as if he just remembered something unpleasant.

It falls silent between the two of you, both of you retreating to watching the waves. He has an uneasy look on his face, like he wants to say something.

“Can I… tell you something?” he asks, his nervousness evident in his voice.

“Of course.”

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here or where I’m going next but for whatever time I have left with you… I want you to know my name.”

You’re silent, letting him talk freely because it looks like this is a real internal conflict for him. He grabs your hands and says, “My name is Cassian. And I know this is going to sound so suspicious but no one else can know… I just wanted to hear you call me by my real name when we’re together.”

You take a deep breath and say, “Okay, Cassian.”

He smiles and kisses you before you lay down again. The voice in the back of your mind is louder, telling you that this guy is bad news, that you should get out while you can. But the voice is still just soft enough for you to ignore.

His hand grazes your thigh and you decide that you want him. You want to fuck him and call him by his real name (which is much better than Keef anyway). You part your legs and let his hand travel up your thigh. He pushes the fabric of your underwear and shorts to the side, bringing his fingers to your entrance.

“Do you want me, sweetheart?” he says softly. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear you say it.

“So bad, Cass,” you respond, the tone of your voice getting breathier at his touch.

He slips a finger into your already wet cunt, pulling a sharp gasp from you. He curls his finger upwards against your walls as you grow wetter around him. He slips another in and your walls expand around the thickness of his digits. In no time, he pulls your first orgasm from you, your cunt clenching around his fingers as you ride out your high. You do your best to keep quiet, keeping your moans controlled as you soak his fingers.

He removes them from you and slides off your shorts. He pulls off his shirt and hastily removes his pants, desperate to be buried inside you already. He gathers your wetness on his hand and slicks his cock before entering you slowly, closing his eyes at the warm and inviting feeling. He buries his cock inside you to the hilt and curses under his breath. His hands grip your hips as he thrusts in and out of you, brushing your g-spot with each thrust of his cock. You look up at him with the moonlight and stars behind him; truly a sight to behold, your lover above you pounding you on a beach with the beautiful sky above him. He grabs your hand with one final thrust you’re coming around him. Unlike before you can’t keep your moans back, letting them flow out freely and he loves it.

“Tell me how good it feels, baby,” he says.

“It’s so good, Cass. So big.”

Due to your praise he’s at edge, pulling out of you swiftly and coming on your stomach yet again. He lays down next to you and pulls you into his chest. He presses a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Thank you… for understanding.”

“Of course, Cassian.”

“I just love being here with you.”

“Me, too,” you whisper back.

It melts your heart just how comfortable with you he is. You know he’s still not telling you everything about his past but you can tell it’s hard. And you can tell he desperately needed this time to relax and enjoy himself. There’s so much history and pain in his eyes. And you want nothing more than to just be there for him.

A week has passed since Cassian confessed his real name to you and you’ve gotten more used to calling him that. He hasn’t mentioned any plans of leaving just yet and you not so secretly hope he’ll just stay forever, whether at the resort or in a place of his own on Niamos.

It’s your day off again and you wake up in his bed again, naked and wrapped in the bed sheets. You hear the refresher going and call for him, “Cass?”

“Just washing up, sweetheart,” he responds.

You roll out of bed and get up just as he’s leaving the refresher, shirtless and skin still glistening.

“What are you doing up? Rest, baby.”

“But-”

“Shh rest. I’m just running to Arkie’s for more revnog and revnog, okay? Got any requests?”

“Hmm the green ones,” you say, retreating back to the bed. He bends down and kisses you before pulling on his shirt and saying, “You got it, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” you sigh as you hear the door close.

You lay in bed for a while before deciding to wash up yourself. You get dressed and sit on the edge of the bed and it dawns on you… he’s been gone for an unusually long time. Arkie’s isn’t that far from here and he was only grabbing two things. Where could he possibly be?

Eventually nightfall rolls around and he’s still not back yet. You don’t dare to make a missing persons report because of the secrecy around his name. So instead you just feel helpless.

It’s the next day now and there’s still no sign of him. He paid for two more days in his current room and you opt to stay there just in case he returns. But he doesn’t. When it’s time to check out of the room you gather his things and take them back to your place, still holding onto hope that he’ll come back.

But days turn into weeks and still… nothing. You’re starting to think he just played you. That he just had you when he could because you were convenient. But then again when he told you about his name and how much he loved spending time with you he seemed so sincere. The constant back and forth in your mind is eating you up inside.

Mara notices he’s gone and brings herself to ask about him one day in the break room.

“Haven’t seen your friend in a while,” she comments.

“Nope,” you sigh.

“I’m sorry, girl. I guess it was just a summer fling.”

You let out a long sigh. Just a summer fling indeed.

Part two: This Love Came Back to Me

Soooo I don't really do tag lists anymore but I'm really excited about this one so I tagged who ever interacted with the announcement post and some folks I thought might enjoy this based on my other Cassian fics 🥹

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