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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 7 months

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Soft Astarion Jealousy

Now with part 2!

I love Ascended Astarion because he's horrible but the sweetness of the other end of the spectrum is impossible to deny. He's just so in love and grateful I can't 🥺🥺

So here's some jealousy that isn't psychotic. Well it is but not as bad:

Astarion never expected to be the jealous type. He always thought...well. In all honesty he never thought about the reality of having a relationship. He didn't even think it was possible for him, let alone the idea that he would actually want it. Even with you, even after he admitted a fraction of his own feelings to himself, he never thought that he would be so... possessive. Though admittedly, he had very good cause for it.

Because you were frustrating. So, so frustrating. For some idiotic reason, you simply didn't understand how alluring to others you really were. You were a pretty little thing, yes but that wasn't the problem. It was so much more than that. And he knew that the others wanted you. Every last one of them. Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Halsin. All of them like moths to a flame. And that wasn't even counting all of the strangers you had met on your journey, the extras that thought they had a shot with your greatness. They all wanted you in ways that made Astarion seethe. And the desire from others wasn't even the kind that he was used to, the kind he understood like the back of his hand. Because you didn't need to seduce to cultivate desire. All you needed to stoke the flames was merely your presence. Experiencing you was all that was required for people to know they wanted more.

Astarion knew that the others weren't just looking for a bedmate, they wanted you for the same reasons he had grown to. Your empathy, your desire to understand those around you. Your fearlessness, your infuriating habit of always trying to do the right thing. They wanted you for your laugh, the way your eyes would crinkle in the corners when your smile was too wide. Your silly jokes, your endless hopefulness for a future. It felt as though everyone around saw you for the gem that you were and it was... concerning. Extremely concerning.

Astarion hated thinking about things like this. He loathed admitting the truth to himself even more. But he was...terrified of losing you to someone else. Especially since it could so easily be done. He was so very lucky that you weren't the brightest, or at least not when it came to matters of the heart. You could do so much better than him, a fact that was incredibly obvious to everyone around you. Everyone but you, a luck that Astarion did not take lightly. But how much time did he have before it ran out? Would it ever?

Perhaps it was delusional, but he was starting to think when all of this was over, assuming neither of you perished anyway, that...it could just be the two of you. Living together, exploring the world, even if it had to be under the cloak of night. Maybe... maybe the two of you could even find a cure for his unsavory condition. The thought itself was incredibly stupid, but then again, it was just as idiotic to believe that there was a cure to the Mind Flayer parasite. But here they were, closer then ever. And if that was such an impossibility turned into reality, perhaps a vampiric cure wasn't so impossible. Or maybe even finding an alternative method for immortality for you, without the downsides of his own. Anything that could just keep you both together, for as long as possible. It was an unrealistic dream, that would never come into fruition. If anything it was dangerous, so very dangerous to even entertain the thought of forever. Especially when your connection was so tenuous.

Astarion would never be stupid enough to thank Cazador for anything but...he'd be lying if he said he wasn't appreciative for his own lack of subtly when it came to seducing you. Even if it originally was for distasteful reasons, it still got him ahead of the pack. If he had been less calculating, less astute, there was a sincere chance that you would be warming someone else's bed at night. Callousness would never be without it's uses, even if it led to uncomfortable situations like his current infatuation.

What would he do when you inevitably wanted to leave? How could he survive after having something so...good. Someone so caring, someone who for some very horrifying reason liked being around him. And the sex... it was fabulous. He was a massive fan of your intimacy, when he was capable of participating in it. He adored it, he adored you, your beauty, the sweet noises he could coax from your mouth, the europhia of being inside of you. Then there was the fact that you could be intimate without any traces of it devolving into lovemaking. He had never been gifted with the ability to say no before, so often and so freely without a single fear of punishment. If anything, it felt like he was rewarded when he was honest with you, when he would share his sudden fits of discomfort in his own body, the memories that plagued him and doomed him to staying stubbornly soft. You would never get angry, never even disappointed. You would just listen and smile, always adorable when you would ask, "But I can stay for a cuddle, can't I?"

An extremely silly question, considering the two of you hadn't spent a night apart from each other since you'd made it to the Shadowlands. Yet it never failed to make him melt.

It was getting worse, these feelings. He just wanted you around, by his side, constantly. Constant enough for him to get the ridiculous urge to hiss at anyone else who dared to come near you. He felt an intense need to protect the closeness the both of you had cultivated, the kind that he had never been allowed before. He had no interest in sharing you with your own friends when it came down to it, let alone another lover.

Which is precisely why his original, mild distaste for Halsin turned into a full-blown hatred the night he had the gall to proposition you.

It had felt like a shard of ice going through his chest when you bounded over to him, laughing about one of his greatest fears coming much too close to reality, "You won't believe the conversation Halsin and I just had-"

"Ah, I was wondering when you were going to ask me about that," Astarion laughed, purposefully interrupting you. He had no desire to hear the specifics of that conversation. He didn't even want to be having this conversation, where you were inevitably going to ask if it was okay to explore someone else.

The answer was no. Never would he be okay with it, allowing someone else to be close to what should have been his. But he needed to think strategically here. To say no could be disasterous. If it became a game of choice between him and Halsin... he's almost certain he would lose. Halsin was everything he wasn't; caring, giving, sharing in your worldviews in a way that Astarion never could. He couldn't risk it, he wouldn't. Having you at all was better than nothing.

"But I'd never even consider something like that-"

"It's fine," Astarion interrupts again, the fakest smile he can muster plastered on his face. The pain was worth the risk mitigation, he was sure of that. But... he still had to ask, "But is this because we haven't...y'know, in awhile?"

A sick part of him prays that you'll say yes. Because if that's the reason, he could do something about it. He could force himself if need be to always tend to your needs. Especially if it meant keeping you to himself. It was such a small sacrifice in comparison to the rest of his life. He would do it in a heartbeat if you demanded, anything to just make you stay.

But that was not the answer he received. Instead you frowned, looking him up and down, "What? No, I-Astarion no. Please don't think that. What we have together is so special to me. The physical part of it is lovely, perfect even. But...it's not what we are."

It's almost comforting to hear you say that. But then why did that make the situation feel so much worse? If it wasn't sex you were after then that certainly meant you wanted more with Halsin as well, did it not? But it was too late to rescind it now.

Astarion nodded, a confused mixture of hurt and gratefulness swirling through him, "I just needed to know. But if you're satisfied with me and just want to explore, go right ahead. I'll be here when you're done."

You nodded slowly, brow furrowed when you asked, "So...we aren't exclusive then?"

"No, of course not," Astarion confirmed, ignoring everything inside of him that was screaming for him to take it all back, "We can be as open as you'd like."

"I see..." You said, trailing off with a frown. You coughed into your hand, looking up at him sharply. Sharp enough for him to be sincerely confused, "Does this mean that you'll be speaking to me before you explore your other options?"

"I-yes? If you want?" Astarion answered, a new type of unease settling in his chest. You didn't seem very happy with this conversation, despite his best attempts to give you what you wanted. Where had he gone wrong? Was he already working to throw you into the arm's of another man, without even trying?

You were still frowning at him, your look cold in a way that made him feel particularly ill, "Please do. I'd like to know everything. I'm going to speak to Halsin, get this all sorted. We can talk later."

And then you were spinning on your heel and marching away, like Astarion was the offensive party here. It made no sense. He had done it all right, hadn't he? Agreed to it immediately, didn't make you feel guilty, had tried to be what you wanted. How had he failed?

He didn't wait around to see you go to Halsin. Instead he went straight back to his tent, closing the flap as he laid down. Great. Fantastic. Now he would have to be aware, perhaps even hear you being with another, while simultaneously reliving that horrid conversation in his head for the entire night. The hurt and worry was making his mind wander to uncomfortable places. Perhaps...Halsin could be dealt with in another way if things became too serious between the two of you.

Would poisoning the man be too extreme?

But before Astarion had the time to start thinking of a more detailed plan he was interrupted. Suddnely, moonlight was filling his tent, with your silleoute shining in the darkness.

He blinked up at you, confused, "What are you doing here?"

You frowned at him, looking hesitant in the entry way, "Should I not be? I thought-I can go if you'd like."

"No!" Astarion blurted out, loud and desperate enough to make him cringe. He cleared his throat, trying again, his voice still a touch too pitiful for his liking, "No, no, come here darling. Of course you're always welcome. I just assumed you would be busy."

To his relief you listened, crawling into the bedroll next to him. Astarion didn't waste any time in wrapping his arms around you, relieved to humiliating degrees that you had chosen to come back after the deed. Though...you didn't quite smell as he had thought you would. There were no traces of the floral, woodsy smell of the druid on your skin. Just the sweet, pleasant scent that he had grown so fond of.

You sighed as he tucked you against him, the warmth of you enough to make him relax for the first time that night. You laid together in a pleasant quiet, one that Astarion was actually scared to disturb. Despite the fact that he desperately wanted to know what happened between the two of you.

But you broke the silence for him, muttering into his chest after the two of you were settled, "I'm...sorry for being snappish earlier. I shouldn't have been. You didn't do anything wrong, and I know I don't own you. I shouldn't have assumed."

Astarion frowned, pulling back to get a proper look at your face. You looked hurt, sad even. Like you were the one who had gotten their heart broken. He could feel a curl of distaste settling in his stomach, annoyed that this felt as though the situation was being placed back to him. He had played his part, perfectly. What more could you ask for? What was there to assume?

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Astarion carefully said, his eyes fixed on every micro expression on your face, "What did I do that could have been construed as incorrect?"

"Nothing!" You rushed to say, shame coloring your cheeks, "I was being stupid. You never promised me anything. I just...assumed. Wrongly that we were something we aren't."

That didn't-he-what? Astarion frowned at her, his confusion evident on his face, "What did you think we were?"

You looked uncomfortable, avoiding his gaze when you answered, "I thought that we were...together. Alone. Just us. But if that's not what you want I understand. It's fine-"

"What in the hells are you talking about?" Astarion blurted out, his anger and pain bubbling to the surface, "I haven't done a thing. And we were just us before you decided to galivant off with a bear of a man!"

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. So much for playing things safely. No, he couldn't even have the self-control to stay quiet. He always had to ruin everything.

But surprisingly, you didn't look angry. If anything you seemed just as confused as he felt, "What? I didn't-we didn't do anything! When did I say I wanted to do anything with Halsin? You were the one saying you didn't care!"

You weren't making any damn sense, "Well why else would you ask me about it?"

"I didn't!" You huffed, glaring at him, "All I was going to say was that he asked me. And I wanted your help on how to best turn him down! And then you jumped at the chance to push me onto someone else-"

"I did nothing of the sort!" Astarion seethed back, "If it was up to me you would never look at another man again! Or woman for that matter!"

It was an odd feeling, to be arguing while holding each other so closely. But Astarion had no intention of letting you go anytime soon, even if he could feel you squirming against his ironclad grip when you fumed at him, "Then why would you say it was okay?!"

"Because I don't want you to leave me!" He shouted back, loud enough to snap him out of his own anger. All of his fury was instantly replaced with fear. Gods, why had he felt the need to say that? To lay his biggest insecurity out on the line. Why not just hand you a stake while he was at it, since he was so eager to give you the tools to destroy him.

But you were still seething, hissing back at him, "Why praytell, would I leave the man I've been in love with for months? Hm? Please, explain it to me!"

Astarion couldn't. He was too busy being shell-shocked at the confession, feeling too many emotions at once. Joy, relief, somehow even more fear than before. You so freely said the words that he had done his damndest to bury, to ignore. But now they were out there, filling him with a horrifying joy.

He wanted to say it back. He did. But he couldn't get the wrecthed words out. Instead he was just staring at you like an imbeicle, his mouth hanging opening at the confession.

But his silence didn't make you falter. Instead you looked determined, near fierce as you grasped his face into your warm hands, "I love you Astarion. You don't have to say it back. That's not what this is about. But I want you. And only you. If you want the same of me then you must tell me. Now."

Astarion let his hands flutter over your wrists, humiliating tears prickling at his eyes. But at least his vocal chords allowed him to answer you this time, "I do. So much more than you know. I want us. Just us. No one else."

The words were flowing out of him, too fast and sincere for him to make the appropriate edits in his head. He was saying too much, feeling too much, giving too much. But the way your eyes brightened at his words, the way you grinned at him before pulling him in for a sweet kiss made it suddenly feel like he wasn't giving anything up at all.

As much as he loathed to admit it, Astarion was exceedingly grateful for Halsin's existence after that night. He would never have had the gall to demand you to himself without a trigger, without the anger you both shared at being misunderstood. Because now, you were his. His alone, the proclamation coming from your own lips. And he was free to stop hiding how much he had wanted it. How willing he was to do anything to keep it. He let himself off his own leash after that, leaning completely into the mutual ownership you had of each other. No more would he silently sit back and seethe as a stranger flirted with you. No, now he'd be upfront and center, with a possessive hand around your waist as he glared them down, more than prepared with a confidence-shattering quip on his tongue.

He started to let all of his urges seep through, taking full advantage of your willingness. If Wyll looked at you for too long at the fire, with a touch of something that Astarion didn't like in his eyes, he'd effortlessly pull you into his lap onlookers be damned as breathed you in. If Gale suddenly had a suspect offer to teach you some new magic in a secluded location, Astarion would invite himself, impervious to any glares sent his way. And when he felt as though all of them were being a bit too flirtaious, he was more than happy to put them in their places at night. Spending hours upon hours making you scream his name in bed from pleasure, loud enough for everyone to hear and know exactly who you belonged to.

He couldn't care less if it added to his own unpopularity amongst their merry-band of rejects. Their opinions didn't matter. Not when you were eating all of the sudden attention up.

You let him do it all because you understood him, in ways that no one else had bothered to before. You knew who he was, what he wanted, the extent to how much he craved your attention. And you let it all happened, reveled in it even. The intense shows of affection. Because you loved him. And he loved you. And one of these days he'd allow himself to admit the obvious.

But for now, he had what he wanted. What he needed. And in the first time in his life, even with disgusting tadpoles squirming his his brain, Astarion was actually...happy.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fic #long fic #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #may add a dirty part two here #dirty sweet

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satoruxx · 6 months

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pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: bestfriend!satoru has returned, fluff, pining, slightly angsty bc of pining, simp satoru hehe, oblivious reader is back again, satoru loves you !! rheya's note: continuation to this drabble bc bestfriend!satoru is everything to me !!

bestfriend!satoru who insists that you have him on speed dial because "he's the most important person in your life" but really it just satisfies him to know that he's the first one you'd call if you needed anything.

bestfriend!satoru who started off being a bit of an ass when you first met. not because he was trying to be but because he's got an ego and doesn't know how to control it, until you call him out for his shit and it sends his heartbeat all out of wack.

bestfriend!satoru who doesn't trust anyone else around you. it's not out of concern or anything, oh no. but in his expert opinion only him and the people he trusts (like suguru, shoko, or nanami) should ever get within six feet of you.

bestfriend!satoru who waits outside every class for you, leaning against the wall with a bag of your favorite snacks in his hand, glasses perched low on his nose. the smile that crawls onto his face as you walk out of the classroom and join him is practically blinding.

bestfriend!satoru who grows older thinking of nothing but you. the person most important to him, the person he would move galaxies for. and no, it's not romantic or anything. he's just your best friend.

bestfriend!satoru who realizes that he's not the only one in the world who knows that you're attractive, and has to clench his fists with a scowl as he sees other men noticing you. then he has to stop and check himself because, why on earth is he mad about it?

bestfriend!satoru who starts openly staring at you because he can't even control it anymore, eyes soft and overflowing affection as he watches you indulge in silly mundane tasks. and when you turn and catch him looking all he can do is give you a dreamy little smile. he's got no excuses but he's gonna play it off like it's something you shouldn't worry about anyway.

bestfriend!satoru who makes you his number one priority, who doesn't care about anyone else when you're in front of him. and even if you aren't around, he can't bring himself to look at anyone else. if someone comes up to him on the street, mumbling something about how he's their type and they'd like his contact info, all he does is give them a breezy wave, saying "sorry. i got someone waiting for me."

bestfriend!satoru who, when you're trying to explain something and someone speaks over you, gives you a resolute "no i'm listening." and doesn't take his eyes away from you until you've said all that you needed to. don't ever think that nobody is listening to you because you always have his attention.

bestfriend!satoru who grits his teeth as you tell him about another unsuccessful date with a man who didn't even know how to treat you right. and how could they, when they don't even know how you like your coffee or what side of the bed you prefer to sleep on? they don't know what your favorite movie snack is or about your obsession with plants or your most precious pair of fluffy socks. not the way he does.

bestfriend!satoru who has to hold himself back during your ranting, who has to keep himself from just letting go and spilling that you weren't going to find someone who loved you more than he did. to stop himself from leaning down and kissing you so hard it takes your breath away, because he's wanted to do it since he was sixteen. he was just too stupid to understand it back then.

bestfriend!satoru who chooses to wait instead, knowing that he'll be stuck with these feelings for the rest of his life, so he'd rather wait for you. because he'd hate himself if he made you uncomfortable, and if he lost the relationship he had with you now over his silly little heart. no instead, he'll keep proving himself, staying by your side and showing you even just of fraction of the devotion he knows he has for you, if it means that you'll be by his side. and hoping that one day, maybe, you'd tell him you feel the same.

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messylustt · 10 months

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We need more touchy & needy Hobie who has feelings for his friend (she's the prettiest girl in! the! world! and his eyes akhxsj) i can imagine him being that type who brags a lot about her too lol (but he's not with her.....yet, he's just crushing very hard)

my girl — hobie brown. longer name. your best friend, hobie, is a protective bastard.

you were laying back against the couch, busy glaring at the tv. hobie walked in, a slight tilt to his head as he moved towards you. “please don’t hit it.” you shift your gaze to hobie sighing. “it’s not the tv i’m pissed at. it’s him.” you gesture to the actor on tv. “i mean can he be any more oblivious?” hobie bites down on his lower lip chuckling at your furrowed brows. he jumps down into a seat beside you, fingers reaching to smooth out the wrinkles on your forehead. you swat his hand away, and his eyes narrow. “i’m only tryna help.”

“with what?” you give him a side glance. his fingers shift back to grab your chin. “just makin’ sure you don’ grow too old, too fast.” you narrow your gaze on him, scoffing at his ‘wrinkles equal old’ joke. “and here I thought you were into older woman.” hobie scoffs, shifting slightly closer to you on the couch, arm moving to rest behind you.

“not that old. i prefer the forty to fifty age range.” you jab his side with your elbow, making him chuckle, slightly doubling over. “what time is it?” you suddenly ask, seeming to just realise how dark it had gotten outside.

“‘bout eight.” he comments, his hand moving to fiddle “absentmindedly” with your shirt — arm having to move further around you to do it. “eight? shit, i should go.” you move to stand, but hobie pulls you back down by a now permanent arm around your shoulders. you slightly fall back into him, the back of your head hitting his chest, as you feel it rumble in a chuckle.

you grab his wrist, preparing to move his hand, but hobie just pulls you closer. “jus’ stay ‘ere tonight. i don’ mind.”

“i should be getting back to my own universe.” you say, trying and failing again to move his arm. “hobie.”

“nah they won’t miss you.” he says, hand now rubbing the material of your collar between his calloused fingers. “that was nicely put, hobie.” you sarcastically say, twisting so that you can see him, but his hold still doesn’t let up.

“mhm.” he hums, a wide grin on his face as he catches your gaze. “you’re being clingy…” you narrow your gaze. he feigns innocence. “am i?” he wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you even closer, making your breathing hitch a fraction. you quickly place your hands on his chest, so that you physically couldn’t get any closer. “yes. and it’s…weird.”

“weird? and here i thought ya were a nice and accepting girl.” his teasing smile hasn’t left. your tongue pokes out against your cheek, as you push farther away from him, finally managing to stand. hobie holds back from grabbing you again, having liked having his friend that close. his…friend.

that’s all you were, or all you saw him as. he saw different. he liked sparing you touches, and disliked when you would inevitably leave his hands. yeah, he knows you need to protect your universe but sometimes he wishes he could be a bit more selfish with you.

;;

when you were in groups, say with pav, gwen, miles and peter. hobie would have an arm wrapped around your shoulder. or when you all would sit, he’d make sure you were sat beside him, tugging your suit closer if necessary. the others found it rather sweet, how whenever you couldn’t make a ‘hang out’ being on a mission or something alike, hobie would use the time to talk you up. saying things like “yeah, did ya see y/n the other day? one of the best swingers i know.”

“didn’t y/n win that one? yeah i think she did.” he’s always been there to brag about you, but when someone else found a place to compliment you — especially if it’s the guy whose been eyeing you — hobie would use the terms ‘ma girl this’ ‘ma girl that’. “ma girl could have done better.” and everyone would know who he was talking about.

so, maybe he did have a little crush on you, maybe he wanted to get the spiders who paid extra attention fired. and maybe he liked your entire attention only on him. to anyone new you two would seem together with how hobie talks about you, but no, you’re ‘just friends’.

;;

hobie grins when you walk into HQ, but a frown soon forms when he sees how battered up you look. rushing past the others he reaches your side, grabbing your chin. you slightly startle at his fast movements. “oh, just a hard mission. i’m fine.” but hobie doesn’t loosen his grip, actually slipping his large hand further around you as he forces you to sit.

“what happened?” gwen asks, all of them having moved towards you after hobie. “just a mission. i’m fine though.” you somewhat chuckle, trying to stand again. “sit down.” hobie states, leaving no room for argument as he inspects your face full of cuts, his frown not lifting.

“hobie.” you move to grab his hand, but he only tightens it. your brows slightly furrow at his clear concern. you weren’t that badly injured, nothing life threatening. but to hobie it was the prospect of it, it could have been life threatening. “let me come next time.” he says, catching your gaze.

“you don’t have to — ” but he cuts you off. “i’m coming next time.” he sounds more sure of himself, as he grabs you into a stance. bringing you to the medical room, even after your protests of ‘i’m fine’. it goes in one ear and out the other, hobie just sitting you down as he mends your cuts, waving off the medical spiders.

“i feel like i should be flattered.” you slightly chuckle, as he tilts your head how he wants. “yeah, you should be.” he says, dabbing at a cut on your lip. “look at all this attention i’m giving you.” you chuckle, mouth opening a fraction. hobie shifts closer to you on the medical bed, hand moving to hold part of your ear and hair as he makes sure he got every cut.

“what is with all this…attention anyway?” you ask, forcing him to meet your gaze. “we’re friends aren’t we?” he asks, still not removing his hand from your face. “yeah, but…you’re acting….” you drift off brows furrowing. hobie shifts his fingers to smooth the lines on your forehead. “remember: forty to fifty age range.”

you raise your brows. “then i’m in the clear.” hobie licks at his lip ring. “not quite.” he mutters. you tilt your head, as hobie’s fingers leave your face by drifting down your skin, stopping by the cut on your lip. you both freeze at the movement, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “does it hurt?” you shrug. “more of a sting.”

“hm.” hobie hums absentmindedly, his gaze caught up in the cut. at first even he doesn’t realise how close he’s moving. your eyes slightly widen, as you lose your breath.

hobie moves closer a small tilt to his head, as his breath then fans over your bottom lip — over your cut. and then before either of you can say a word more, hobie’s lips are slowly wrapping around your lower lip, his tongue poking out to brush right along your cut, soothing the wound with his spit.

his hand has moved to your hair, a tighter grip accompanying. he draws back a fraction, your bottom lip now wet. hobie can’t help as his tongue comes back out to soothe at your cut again, dragging all the way across your lower lip, and stopping when he’s hovering over your entire mouth, tongue so close to slipping in. you feel lightheaded, as your grip has moved to his jacket, but hobie seems in a daze of his own.

“i jus’…it looked…” and he swiftly pulls you closer, hand now weaved completely into your hair as he slips his tongue into your mouth, lips connecting with yours as his head tilts for better access. “yeah…jus’ looked sore…” he pushes harder against your mouth, his hand slipping to grab your waist. ‘friends’ can now officially be used loosely, as hobie’s eager mouth takes ownership of yours.

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3lli3l0v3r · 4 months

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read part two here! series masterlist here!

currently thinking about how modern!ellie would be such a like “hallway crush” type…OKAY WAIT i have an idea, picture this: it's the first day of classes, and you're on your way to your university's astrophysics lecture hall and see her, walking briskly to her destination, with big black headphones (listening to divorced dad rock, of course) seemingly in her own world, not even aware of how cool she is in the moment. she passes you, walking only a little faster than you are, but it gives you time to check her out a bit. she's wearing some dark wash jeans and a flannel with a chunky jacket over top, her beat up bag slung over one shoulder(because shes just too kewl for skewl), and her signature worn black converse. as you follow her into the hall, (not being creepy, you're just on the same path. oh, seems like you're classmates too…oop!), she enters first, then holds the door for you as you file in behind her, looking back, meeting your eyes, and giving you a small nod as a greeting. (one of those that guys do, like when they tilt their chin up for a split-second as a bro greeting, UGH THE ENGLISH EXPLANATIONS ARE ESCAPING ME i do not know the ways of the men but yall have seen that nod thing they do, right?) that would happen in a fraction of a moment and you'd go to smile back at this beautiful stranger, but by the time you collect yourself she's already looking forward again. oh and then the two of you would part ways and sit on opposite sides of the room, however she'd still be on your mind…and whenever you cast glances her way, she'd seem interested in what the professor is talking about, but you'd then realize you're staring and bring your eyes back to your own laptop....

☆: hi, i have SO many ideas for drabbles and stuff but they rarely translate onto paper how I imagine them to go, but I'm sure that comes with time and practice, but for now take this silly idea I jotted down as it crossed my mind...I need her so bad, wish she was real 😔 (half hoping a situation like this happens to me LMAO...but crushes are too much stress....) BUTTTTT this drabble thingy got them creative juices flowing, and now im highly tempted to make a series or more parts to hallway crush ellie ...I say that every time but this idea's bouncing around in my skull and won't leave so who knows...

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feyascorner · 3 months

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Ok but what if tav is the hero of baldurs gate right, the god killer, slayer of the chosen three, savior of the emerald grove etc etc and after all that is told they had this incurable illness that the parasite had only slowed down. Now, with it gone, it’s progressing again and Tav can’t help but feel so stupid, weak even, that such a mighty hero could be struck by the weaknesses of their own body

Maybe pushes everyone away when they find out, too afraid to tell them that after everything they’ve been through after surviving all of that that they were going to die anyways

AND THEN ASTARIONS REACTION!!! Because surely he would not take that news sitting down (if he found out at all)

a/n. anon how did you know this type of prompt is exactly my cup of tea <33

It's not fair.

You did everything right. You saved the grove, the Tieflings, the Druids, the gnomes, the city, and even those who did not deserve saving, you always came to their aid. You've slayed gods, mind flayers, githyanki, even a bloody elder brain. And now, finally, after so long, with the brain having been defeated, and nothing but pure bliss occupying your headspace, you think you finally have time to relax.

Instead, you're reeled over the bathroom sink, eyes blurry from how much your body seems hellbent on making you miserable.

Ah, you remember. No matter what you've done for others, no matter what you've sacrificed, you're reduced to nothing but a sick patient. One that has no hope for a cure.

The months spent with little to do with your illness has left it to come back tenfold, and now all you can do is grovel on the bathroom floor, head in your hands as you understand that this is all you were meant to amount to. In the end, you were always destined to rot away by yourself and succumb to this gods forsaken disease. You are no hero. This is what you truly are---the pitiful remains of someone who longed for more.

The weeks following the defeat of the elder brain are filled with mournful streets for those who lost their lives and the joyous laughter of those who live on for them. Celebration--though it's difficult with half the taverns having collapsed in the battle--is not out of the ordinary. Strangers and friends alike come together every night, singing praises to whichever gods they worship. Your companions are no exception.

But each and every time, you deny their offers. You've become quite skilled at making up excuses about feeling tired, about having errands to run, or having loose ends to tie up. In reality, you're a coward. Despite the trust they put in you, you cannot provide it back--not in matters like this. Not when you've all been through so much, just for your own journey to amount to nothing.

It's not like you haven't known about this disease. You knew your death was imminent. But now, after experiencing just a fraction of what life has to offer, you no longer want to let go.

It's just not fair.

For what seems to be the millionth time this week, you hear someone knock at your door. Whichever one of your companions it is, you don't bother taking a step from your bed, face still planted into your sheets. You don't have the energy to move, and the useless healing herbs scattered across the room don't exactly hide your secret. So instead of standing, you bury your face deeper into your bed.

"You can't stay in there forever."

You flinch as you realize it's a voice you've dreaded hearing. One that invokes so much love yet fear as you remember that if you see him right now, it might be your last. And you don't want that. Not at all.

"I don't know what we've done to make you push us away like this," he says through the door, and your fist tightens in front of your chest. "But this is getting ridiculous, darling. You have to come out eventually."

You remain silent.

"Gods, just--" he stops, and you can hear the hesitance in his voice. You swear it almost cracks a little. "--Have I done something wrong?"

At this, you're suddenly on your feet, rushing to push yourself against the door, but unwilling to open in. "No, Astarion, you haven't done anything wrong. Don't you dare think that way."

You can hear him shift. "Then why do you avoid me? The others, I can understand, but me?...I mean, I thought we were more than that..."

"We are, it's just..."

"Just what?"

The final thread of your resolve snaps, and you reach toward your lock. Your hand falters for a moment, but you eventually open the door slowly. And if the way his face falls tells you anything, you must look absolutely dreadful.

"Oh, my sweet, what's happened to you?" he whispers, his eyes widening even more when he sees the mess of your home behind you. The clothes all over the floor, the blinds shut despite there being no sunlight to shield from, the healing potions and herbs messily tossed around...you'd feel ashamed if you weren't so tired already.

"...Are you sick?" he steps inside, taking his time to take in the state of what you call home. When you don't answer, he whips around to you, alarmed. "You're sick. Is it a cold? Flu?"

You shake your head, sick of having to lie to the one person you don't want to deceive. "It's a long story."

"I'm undead, darling. I have all the time in the world."

"It's not a very nice story."

"If I wanted a nice story, I'd be listening to a bard someplace else," he says, and you feel your eyes bubble with tears as he steps closer. "What's happened?"

The words spill out like vomit, and you're soon telling him what's been weighing on you for so long. You find yourself sliding down to the ground, and he goes with you, letting you grasp desperately at the sleeves of his shirt while you tell him everything. You can barely breathe with how fast your talking but you're afraid you won't say everything if you get any slower. The entire time, he just stares at you, his arms circled around you, and only when you're done does his gaze finally flicker.

"...Surely, there must be a cure." He's suddenly glancing around the entire room, at pieces of herbs. "Surely, at least one of these would--"

"None of them work, Astarion."

"Then we can find the finest healers in the city--we can even go back to that damn druid, and ask him."

"I've tried."

"Well, you haven't tried hard enough, obviously, if you haven't found a bloody cure!"

You give him one hard look--one with dark bags under your eyes and a weariness that stretches on for weeks--and his temper seems to cool. His shoulders slump, but he reaches for your hand, rubbing his thumb against your skin. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just felt so weak," you whisper. "I didn't want you to think that too."

Immediately, his eyes harden, and he takes both sides of your face in his hands. "No. I don't think you're weak, and that's not going to change. You've proven yourself more than I can count, and I know you enough to know that you can't let it end like this, love. You can't leave like this."

"Astarion..."

He shakes his head. "I won't let this take you from me. There have been too many opportunities for us to lose each other, and we've overcome them all. We'll just do it again. We'll go to the most skilled healers in Faerun. We'll go to all of them if we have to, and we'll start tomorrow."

You can feel yourself tear up again, and he kisses your tears away while you sob in his arms.

"I'll save you," he mumbles against your temple. "Even if it's the last thing I do."

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3

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avatar-anna · 7 months

Text

It's Hard When We Argue

You quietly walked downstairs into the kitchen, a fuzzy blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You felt hungover, like your entire body had been put through the ringer even though you hadn't had a sip of alcohol last night. For a moment, your chest tightened with anticipation, not sure if you were dreading or hoping Harry would be in the kitchen. He wasn't, but from the kitchen window, you could see the back of his head as he sat on the back porch.

Your mind returned to last night briefly, all the harsh words you shouted at each other and the tears that were shed. You'd never felt so angry and frustrated and hurt in your life, at least not with Harry. He was the one person you could always feel safe and comfortable with. You knew couples fought, you knew that disagreements happened, but that wasn't you and Harry. Maybe you were naive enough to think that you and Harry were so in sync that you would never argue, or at least have a huge blowout argument like the one you had last night, but it had been so smooth sailing since you got together.

Before you went outside, you fixed up two cups of coffee, making sure one of them was the way Harry liked it. You took both of them outside, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Harry didn't even look up when the glass door opened and closed. He's still mad, you thought. He's so angry he won't even look at me.

"Coffee?" you asked, voice scratchy and raw.

"Mm. Sure, thanks."

Tears welled in your eyes. Here you were, trying to extend an olive branch and talk about your fight last night, and he wouldn't even look at you. Harry stayed sitting on the porch swing, one hand covering his mouth as he looked out at the yard in front of him. Just days ago, you were daydreaming about playing with future kids in that same backyard, and now...Now you didn't know what the future held.

"I think we should talk—"

"Y/n, I really don't think that I can right now," Harry said, running a tired hand over his face. He had bags under his eyes, and his facial hair was more grown out and unkempt than usual. He looked exhausted. And upset. And you didn't know what to do to bridge the yawning gap between you.

"O—Okay," you said, trying to hide the fact that you were on the verge of tears. "Are you—"

"I'm gonna go for a run," he said quickly, pushing off on his knees and standing up.

Harry turned and saw you standing with the two cups of coffee in your hands, one of which he had still yet to take. His face softened a fraction then, his hand reaching out like he wanted to rest it on your shoulder, but he stopped halfway before walking around you and heading out. You flinched when the door slammed shut, tears finally leaking out of your eyes.

Everything was so messed up. You hated this icy tension that was growing between you and Harry, and you worried you wouldn't be able to fix things. Harry was the stubborn type, he always had been, but you'd never seen him be so cold toward you. It killed you.

With Harry out of the house, all you were able to do was think about the argument.

It started out so small, so inconsequential that you almost couldn't understand how you ended up here in the first place.

Harry had been coming home late recently, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but now that he was back from tour, you thought you would get to spend your nights together. But he kept coming home late, and you were never much of a night owl, so it just felt like he was doing it on purpose. You missed him, that was all. All you wanted was to spend time with your boyfriend. To talk about your day and ask him about his and cuddle up together in bed.

"Are you avoiding me?" you asked when he came home late again. Perhaps it wasn't the best way to broach the subject, but you made a mistake by scrolling on Twitter where rumors always ran rampant, so you were a little more upset than normal.

Harry obviously didn't respond well to the harsh accusations you were throwing at him, despising how you jumped to the absolute worst conclusions. He accused you of not trusting him even though you did, but he wouldn't listen, and you couldn't find a way to say you just wanted him around more, not when anger had sunk so deep in the heat of the argument. The argument devolved from there until you went to your separate corners—you to the bedroom and Harry downstairs, presumably on the couch. There were so many cruel accusations thrown around, and so many more things left unsaid, but maybe last night had gone too far. Maybe this was it, and Harry was avoiding the most difficult conversation of all—the breakup conversation.

So you did what you should've done last night. You were going to avoid it altogether.

You anxiously cleaned up around the house for a while, scrubbing down countertops and vacuuming floors and folded laundry, tears occasionally leaking out of your eyes the longer Harry stayed out. You knew he could run for ages, especially when he was in a mood, but you couldn't sit around and wait for him to come back and tell you he wanted to take a break or break up or pick up right where you left off the night before.

Quickly and with shaking hands, you went upstairs and began to pack, tossing things in your overnight bag haphazardly. Some of it could've been yours, and some of it might've been Harry's, you weren't really paying attention, you just needed to get out for a while. If Harry could run, so could you.

Your last step was slipping into your shoes, which you kept by the front door. You were balancing on one foot trying to get your shoe on when the front door opened. Harry breezed in, running shorts high up on his thighs and baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, which were covered by sunglasses. He was so focused on whatever was playing in his airpods that he nearly bumped into you.

"Sorry, I wasn't—Where are you going?" Harry asked, eyeing the bag at your feet.

"I think I'm gonna stay at my mom's for a few days," you said, picking the bag up and hiking it over your shoulder.

"What—Why?"

He looked frantic as he took a step toward you, but you took one back. "It's clear to me that you need space, so I'm just going to step back and let you—"

"See, you're doing it again. You're assuming," Harry said, taking his hat off to run his hand through his hair. "Y/n, if we are going to be in a relationship together, I need you to talk to me, not just assume what I'm thinking."

"I—I'm sorry," you said, realizing he was right. Your assumptions were what got you into this mess. It was so easy for you to get lost in your own head sometimes. "I said things that I shouldn't have last night, and this morning you couldn't even look at me, and I—"

"Y/n," Harry said, effectively cutting you off. He took his sunglasses off, and you got a good look at his eyes for the first time since last night. They were red and watery, like he'd spent his entire run crying. Seeing him so upset made your heart squeeze with guilt. You didn't mean for all of this to happen, but you didn't know how to find your way out of it, either. "I hate that we fought last night. You're not the only one who said shitty things. I—I feel awful. I couldn't stand to see you so upset but I was still a little frustrated from last night and I didn't want the first thing I said to you this morning be something that would lead to another argument. I'm sorry that you thought I wanted you to leave. I don't."

"You promise?"

Harry stepped toward you again and this time you didn't step back, letting him take your face in his hands. "I know I got defensive and things got out of hand, but I heard you, and you were right. Not about the avoiding you part, but I...have been absent, and I'm sorry for that too. I just...you know I hate the cheating accusations. I would never cheat on you, Y/n. Ever."

You nodded, knowing he was right. Accusing Harry of cheating was a low blow, one you resorted to so he would hurt the way you did. He'd called you insecure and needy and that you weren't his mother and didn't need to report to you about his whereabouts all the time. It made your blood boil, seeing as all you wanted was to spend quality time with your boyfriend after so much time apart. So you went for the jugular. You hated yourself for using an insecurity he confided in you about against him, hated that it had its desired effect.

Nodding, you said, "B—But why have you been gone so much?" you asked. "I thought after the tour was over you would...be around more."

Harry took you by the hand and led you away from the door, taking your bag from you and tossing it away unceremoniously and muttering about you leaving being ridiculous. It made you giggle, which felt good after a night of feeling absolutely awful. You thought he was going to lead you to the couch, but he brought you over to the kitchen instead, taking you by surprise when he hoisted you up on the counter.

"I haven't cheated on you, I swear," Harry repeated. "I've been—I can't tell you what I've been doing, but I need you to trust that it's all been for a good reason. Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me, my love?"

You shook your head. Now you were dying to know what he was up to all the nights he stayed out late, but despite the argument last night, you trusted Harry.

"I don't like it when we fight," you said softly, playing with the pearl ring on his finger. "Can we agree to never do that again?"

Harry grinned before leaning forward to kiss you. Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck to hold him close. When he pulled back, he kissed the top of your head, then your cheek.

"I can't promise we'll never fight again, but I promise to fight and make up with you for the rest of my life. How's that sound?"

Your ears perked up, your thumb rubbing over his cheek. Both of you looked like wrecks, but you didn't want to run from him, and he wasn't running away from you, either. It was a bad night. Maybe there would be more, but Harry was right. If you had to argue every once in a while with someone, it might as well be him.

"You don't really think I'm needy, do you?" you asked. It was the last wrinkle you needed to smoothe over before everything was set to rights.

Harry shook his head, picking you up off the counter and heading for the stairs. "If anyone's needy in this relationship, it's me."

"I think it's safe to say we're both pretty dependent," you mused, enjoying being so close to him after a night apart. He was a little sweaty from his run, but you didn't mind. You just wanted to feel his body against yours.

He set you down in the master bathroom connected to your shared bedroom, turning the water on in the shower while you quickly got undressed and helped him out of his clothes. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as your fingers traced the hard planes of his stomach, admiring all the curves and ridges and smiling when goosebumps appeared under his skin.

Harry leaned down to kiss you, but you stopped him just before he could, placing your fingers over his lips. "I know you said it was for a good reason, and I believe you, but you—are you able to come home earlier? At least just a few days out of the week? I—I miss falling asleep next to you."

"Of course," he said. A look flashed across his face that you couldn't read, but it was gone before you could make sense of it, replaced by a cheeky grin as he pulled you into the shower with him.Trust me, by the time the day is over, you're gonna be sick of me."

Giddiness spread through your whole body, replacing every horrible and awful feeling that had lingered from the night before. With one hand on his chest, you pushed Harry up against the cool tile wall of the shower, reaching up on your toes to kiss him hard. The water made your bodies slippery, and the steam made you both a little breathless, but you didn't care, you just wanted to feel him, breathe him in deep, never let him go.

This secret Harry was keeping from you would most likely gnaw at the back of your mind until he eventually told you, but you would do your best to respect his wishes, to trust him like you said you did. Right now, you were content with the fact that despite the fight, he heard you, and you understood his side. That seemed like a good enough conclusion for you.

And maybe a little arguing wasn't so bad if each one ended just like this.

#harry styles #boyfriendrry #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months

Text

Driver's License (Matt Sturniolo)

request:

a/n: anon i love you so much, both of your ideas were so good. i hope you love this. i cut off the second part to gatekeep it till it comes out 💕 also ik in the song, it is the boys fault but i've done a few of those so I wanted this one to be on the reader.

contains: angst, fluff, breakup to makeup, abandonment issues, happy ending, kissing, cussing, 1.3k words

Three Months Ago:

“Okay, whoa. Don’t hit the break that hard. Ease on to it.” Matt says quickly, leaning forward a bit. I roll my eyes at his dramatics. “I barely pressed it, Matt.” I continue circling the parking lot slowly since he refuses to let me go over 5 miles per hour.

When a car enters the parking lot near me, I tense up but Matt jumps in. “You got it. You’re fine. They’re just gonna pass you.” He says, calmly, his hand resting near the steering wheel, just in case he needs to grab it. The car passes me and I relax, smiling over at Matt. “See.” He says, giving me a small smile back but then gesturing back out the window. “Look at the road, babe. Not me.” I snap my eyes away and focus back in.

“Pull into this one right here.” He gestures at a spot a couple of feet away and I turn into it, barely in the lines, and put the car in park. I wince and glance over at him, expecting him to talk shit, but he just smiles. “Not bad, baby. You wanna try to get on the street?” My eyes widen and he laughs and takes off his seatbelt.

“It’s okay. Next time.” He leans over and presses two kisses to my lips before opening his door so we can trade back. He comes around the car and opens the driver’s door, leaning in. “You’re gonna be coming through to pick me up in a second. Just wait.”

*********

I look down at the floor of the DMV and shake my head, trying and failing to push down my thoughts of Matt. Today is probably the hardest day without him I've had since we first broke up two months ago. Two months since I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life and didn’t even have the strength to try and fix it. Every time I think about the look in Matt’s eyes when I told him we were done, I want to crumble. So instead, I try not to think about it at all.

The attendant calls my name sharply and it snaps me out of my impending pity party. I quickly scramble over and take my license from her, muttering a quiet thank you. As I head back to my car, I can’t take my eyes off it. I always thought this moment would be so much bigger but it just feels empty now.

When I get in my car, I drum my fingers on the steering wheel for a second trying to clear my head. I squeeze my eyes shut trying to muster up something resembling self-respect before my heart wins out and I pull out my phone. This is a bad idea. I know it and repeat it to myself as I type Matt’s name into my Instagram search bar.

This has been a hard limit I set with myself, alongside not texting him or his brothers. I don’t stalk his Instagram like some psycho ex. Except apparently, I do today. And god, he looks good. His hair is longer than the last time I saw him, the ends curling up slightly. In his most recent post, he’s got a slight smile as he looks up at the camera but it’s the glint of something around his neck that makes my breath hitch. I scroll to his next post and zoom in to confirm it’s what I think it is and my eyes begin to water. He’s still wearing the necklace I got him on our first Valentine’s Day.

I close my phone and pull down my sun visor, staring into the mirror. Does it mean he still loves me? Do I still have a chance? Or does he just really like that necklace? I shake my head and push the visor up, throwing the car into reverse. It doesn’t matter. If there’s even still a fraction of a chance, I have to try.

*********

This was a mistake. I’m an absolute freak. I’m a loser. Why would I drive to this man’s house like everything’s fine? I put my head in my hands and count to three trying to calm down. I’ve been sitting outside of the triplet’s house for two minutes trying to get my nerve back but with every passing second I feel stupider.

Okay, it’s fine. This is fine. Before I can talk myself out of it anymore, I get out of my car and march up to their door. I knock twice, deciding that if they don’t answer in ten seconds I can run back to my car and pretend this never happened. I get all the way to eight before Chris swings the door open. We stare at each other blankly for a couple of breaths before Chris turns and calls for Matt to come down. He turns back to me, hardening his eyes. But he must see something in my face that makes him take pity because he just sighs before leaning in and whispering a low, “Don’t fuck this up, kid.”

As soon as Matt starts down the stairs, Chris turns and rushes back up, tapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder when he passes him. When he sees me in the doorway, Matt freezes momentarily, recovering quickly and setting his jaw. I take an involuntary step backward at the icy look he gives me as he leans against the door frame.

“Can I help you?” He asks. His voice has way less steel than I expected but the question still guts me. It feels like I’m standing in front of a stranger and not the boy who used to hold me every night.

“I just-” I start, biting down on my bottom lip as I try not to cry. “I got my driver’s license today,” I say lamely. I cringe slightly and he furrows his brow in confusion.

“Okay?”

“I just wanted to tell you that, I guess.”

“Alright. Thanks for the headline.” He says sarcastically.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.” I say, turning to retreat.

“That’s what you’re sorry for?” He demands, clearly angry now. “You’re not sorry for leaving me out of nowhere? For never answering a single one of my messages? For breaking my fucking heart?”

I swallow thickly and nod, stepping closer. “Matt. I’m sorry for all of that. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I promise you that was never my intention. I was just scared.” He laughs bitterly at that and shakes his head.

“No. You don’t get to use that excuse. Everybody’s scared. I was scared. You don’t get to just run when shit gets real.” His voice cracks a bit at the end and he runs his hand over his face. I reach out tentatively and place my hand on his arm. He locks eyes with me at the touch but doesn’t immediately snatch away.

“I wish I could take it back. I wish every day that I had just talked to you. And I understand if you can’t forgive me for that, Matt. I don’t know if I would either. But, I promise if you can, I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving that I’m all in.” His eyes search mine desperately for truth and I hold my breath waiting for his response.

“Tell me that you love me.” He says, quietly.

My heart jumps as fear floods my body. I’ve never said it out loud before. I exhale deeply, letting my eyes trail over his face. “I love you, Matt.” My voice is a little wobbly but I pour as much honesty as I can into those words, hoping he hears what he needs.

He nods, his serious demeanor still in place, and sticks out his pinky finger. I laugh wryly and lock our pinkies, sealing the promise.

Matt pulls me inside of the house and takes my face in his hands, kissing me so intensely that my body leans sideways. He pulls away, pressing another one to my lips quickly and then drawing me into his arms. I wrap myself around his waist, feeling like the weight of the world has been lifted.

“I missed you so much.” Matt’s voice grates against my ear as he kisses behind it. I slip my hands under his shirt before I pull back to look at his face and grin.

“Enough to finally let me drive you on the interstate?” I say hopefully.

“Absolutely fucking not-”

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midnightcrw · 4 months

Text

Baby making

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

Summary: After years of marriage, you and Simon come to a decision

Warning: Smut, unprotected p in v (please use a condom everyone), breeding (I never thought I would be using this word), creampie (I also never thought I would be using this word either)

a/n: This really isn't the best, which I'm sorry for, but I was genuinely bored and had nothing to do. I also realised that it's really not the best for me to be bored. I'm also terrible at coming up with titles. Someone actually needs to help me with that

"You sure you want this?" Simon asked, looking at you with worried eyes as he held himself up with his hands on either side of your head. He didn't want you to do anything that you might regret and this wasn't something you could take back.

And lying in bed, already naked, didn't make it any less nerve-wracking for you. The two of you had already talked about having a child, both wanting to have one in the future and now after five years of marriage, you felt the urge to have a baby even more.

"Yes, I want to have a baby with you," you said, looking into his eyes. The condom in his hand had been discarded the moment you proposed the idea, leaving it on the bedside table.

"But do you want a child now?" You asked him, not wanting to overstep and do something that would make him uncomfortable. Even if he didn't want to have a child with you now, you would be more than content.

Simon's eyes softened a fraction as he leaned down, now on his forearms, to rest his forehead on yours. "I would be more than happy to have a child with you. But you're the one who will carry the child, I just want you to be sure about this."

"I am sure," you whispered, looking deep into his eyes as he pressed a kiss on your lips. Kissing Simon always made you feel some type of way, but this time it felt different. You were almost impatient as Simon moved one of his hands down between your thighs.

But before he could slide his finger inside of you, you stopped his hand with your own, holding his wrist. "I want you inside of me, now," you said, still keeping your eyes on him.

Simon chuckled softly, kissed your cheek and leaned down to your ear, "Impatient, are we?" His hoarse voice sent shivers down your spine.

"Please," you muttered. Your husband nodded slightly as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, making you both gasp for air.

At first he started of with slow thrusts until you both couldn't hold yourselves back anymore, finally feeling him raw inside of you.

“Too deep…” you gasped against Simon’s lips. Your hands scratched his back with your nails as his length pushed deep into your cunt. His grip on your thighs was tight and pleasantly painful as your wet, pulsating walls greedily sucked him in. With each thrust, he buried himself deeper inside of you while your legs were spread wide by him.

“You take me so well,” his voice sounded rough and breathy against your lips, muffling your moans. Each stroke of his hip made you slowly fall apart as he spoke between the kisses he gave you, “Take all of it.” He moaned out breathlessly, his thrusts forcing more sounds from your lips. He didn't hold back like he usually did and it didn't bother you at all.

“Simon!” you moaned. Your body trembled beneath his relentless pounding as Simon slid his tongue into your mouth. Your muffled moans begged him not to stop, to fill you up until you couldn't take it anymore.

You moaned his name again as the intense pleasure added to your aching pussy and aching hips. His cock hitting your sensitive spot. He's going to fill you up, that's the only thought in his head right now and how satisfied he would be to see his cum spilling out of your slit and have your walls swallowing most of it.

Your hands gripped the sheets and your husband pushed his body up until he hovered over you. His eyes were intimidating and sharp as ever, while his brows were furrowed as sweat dripped down his scarred body. The sound of skin slapping became more pronounced as he drew back and quickly slammed into you. Hissed curses slipped from his parted lips as you came around him, almost making you cry.

“Fuck, Si-” you sobbed, biting your lip. You hadn't even come down from your high. Feeling his throbbing length inside of you, being close to his own release. Your legs trembled in his grip, unable to keep your hips from bucking. But Simon's grip didn't loosen, too focused on filling you up to pay any attention to your sensitive body. His hips slapping against yours before halting to shoot his seed deep inside of you.

You gasped and looked down between your bodies to see his cum leaking out of you and staining the bed, still panting and whimpering for air. Your eyes moved to his face as you met his eyes. They softened as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, loosening his painful grip on you.

And with that, Simon slowly pulled out, slipping two of his fingers inside you to help you slowly close up, trying not to overstimulate you any further.

"You did so good," he whispered in his deep voice, peppering your face with kisses as your body shivered, still clenching around his fingers as he slowly thrusted them in and out of you.

You whimpered once Simon slipped out his fingers, almost feeling empty. And when he was about to carry you both to the bathroom to clean up, you pulled him down by his arm, hugged him. "Later," you mumbled, wanting to relax first before doing anything else.

Simon nodded, embracing you in his arms as you rested your head on his chest. "I love you," you said, hearing his fast heartbeat against your ear.

"I love you too," he said back, knowing that this next step in life, will bring a whole new kind of adventure that he will be more than happy with as long as you are by his side.

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fallingdownhell · 10 months

Note

Could I request Al-Haitham, Kaveh, Kaeya and Zhongli getting hugged from behind by their s/o?

Absolutely! This is so adorable!

Characters Included: Alhaitham; Kaveh; Kaeya; Zhongli

Content: gender neutral reader; really only fluff otherwise

Word count: 1,1k words

Please enjoy this dose of fluff<3

Alhaitham

Honestly surprised and jumps a little the first few times you hug him from behind unexpectedly

It‘s not that he doesn‘t like it, he just wasn‘t prepared for this

Gradually gets used to you doing this if you continue to do it and actually grows to really like it

He loves the feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist while you rest your head on his back. You never see it, but he always wears a smile when you do this with him

He can‘t really explain it, but this form of a hug from you gives him a certain feeling of security

Most of the time, you hug him like this when he stands in the kitchen, preparing food for the both of you. You would come up from behind and wrap your arms around his waist

He doesn‘t really show any type of reaction besides pausing what he‘s doing for the fraction of a second before he resumes like nothing has happened, but you know that he enjoys this

You might not see his soft smile, but the way he would rest one of his hands over yours from time to time told you everything you needed to know. It gave you the knowledge that he liked the gesture, so you kept doing it

At this point, it became a routine for the both of you. You would come up to him like this almost daily. It was just normal

So much so, that one time where you didn‘t hug him from behind, simply because you were tired and forgot about it, he thought that something was wrong between the both of you. He sat you down to talk to you and when you found out the reason why he thought that way, it honestly made your heart melt a little

Since that day, you make it a point to remember each and every single day, and he absolutely eats it up

Never stop doing it, he might just murder someone if you don‘t give him his daily dose of backhugs

Kaveh

Absolutely adores it!

He would be all for physical touch as it is, he hugs and touches you every chance he gets and as long as you‘re also okay with that

But if you were to actually return his physical affection? Archons, he‘d worship you on the spot!

first time you come up from behind and hug him, he's surprised and a bit taken aback, but instantly smiles and places his own hands over yours

totally enjoys it!

would often take this opportunity to induldge in silly stuff with you. Wether that be to start dancing around the room like that, or anything else really

would absolutely love it if you made this a regular habit of yours

actually kinda demands it from you, now that he's had a taste of it

WILL pout endlessly if there ever goes a day by where you don't come up and hug him from behind

his absolute favourites are when he's sitting down working on some sketches and you wrap your arms around his neck from behind

something about it just feels so loving and domestic to him, he can't help but lean back into your touch, totally forgetting about his work

yeah, please never stop doing it, he can't live without those hugs anymore

Kaeya

another one who has to get used to this form of affection first

Kaeya is not at all used to relationships, or even showing affection for someone at all

and if your love language just so happens to be physical touch, he has to get used to that even more

I do believe that Kaeya is actually pretty touch starved, so once he gets used to it, he starts to yearn for it

those back hugs quickly become his favourite form of hugs. Sure, he likes to hold you in his arms and pull you close to his chest

but feeling your arms around him, being the one held by you, feeling protected from everything else, has a completely different effect on him

after getting used to it, the first time he really, freely enjoyed and induldged in that feeling, he almost started crying from how overwhelming it suddenly was

you paniced a bit at seeing this, pulling back, asking if you did something wrong to make him cry

but when he simply asked you to keep doing that, you instinctively knew what was going on with him. So, without a word, only a smile on your lips, you put your arms back around him and rested the side of your head against his back, letting him feel you

really comes to enjoy them, but he won't pressure you into them when you're not feeling it for a day or so

but if he has to go longer without it, he starts to grow restless, but denying it if someone were to ask him about it

don't keep those hugs from him for too long, let him induldge from time to time, and he will be the most happy you've ever seen him

Zhongli

absolutely hooked to them from the first time it's happened

he enjoys the physical comfort and closeness as is, in any way he can get it, but hugs are always at the top of the list for him

likes giving them as much as he loves recieving them from the person he adores

not so much a physical person with friends or other people, that privilege is reserved for his partner, only

the first time you wrap your hands around his waist from behind, he holds what he's doing for a second, before he smiles to himself, resuming his actions while one hand rests over your hand, intertwining your fingers together

loves it when you both stay like that for a while, just enjoying each others presence and warmth

after a while of this, he will put down what he was doing, then turning around in your arms and engulfing you into a real hug, pulling you close into him so that he can hold you to him

at moments like this, he wishes he could just hide away from the world with you, so that he would never have to let go of you ever again, but he knows that's not possible

still, the tought is there every time this happens

and it happens a lot!

you come to hug him like that almost daily, mostly when you come home from work and he's already there, waiting for you

he always looks forward to those moments, anticipating to have you all to himself again for a few hours without anything coming in your way...

2K notes · View notes

jingsyuans · 11 months

Note

Hello! My first time sending you a request! (Since I fell in mad love with your writing I couldn't help myself)

But the thought of HSR men eating you out only for you to take initiative and flip them over, moving on top and grinding your cunt against their mouth has me spiraling.

Pussy drunk men gasping for air once you're done.

Thank you and I hope you have an amazing day! Feel free to ignore this if it's not interesting enough, huhu. ❤️

a/n: I added kafka because she is so :)

warnings: pussy eating! no pronouns but very obviously pussy owned reader, read at your discretion.

get your cake & eat it too! ft. jing yuan, gepard, kafka

Jing Yuan would absolutely adore this. He already enjoys eating you out as it is, he’d be the type to eat you without asking anything in return. He does it because he loves it and he loves how good he is at it HAHA and all the sounds you make for him.

There’s nothing better to someone like Jing Yuan than his lover taking their pleasure. He likes to be used :) just the feeling of you squeezing his head with your thighs is lovely, but when you suddenly sit up and force him over? Sitting on his face, all pleasantries and hesitation thrown out the window as you grind into his mouth and use him? Jing Yuan must really be the luckiest man in the world.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, his hands flying up to your thighs and groping the plush skin as he moans into your cunt and licks you up. He can feel his cock throbbing because oh you turn him on — but all he’s focused on right now is being a good seat for you as you reach your high, his hands slowly creeping up to support your lower back so you can lean on him and get as comfortable as you need.

And, haha. He’s making sure to lap you up all through your orgasm. When you finally lift off his face and let him breathe, Jing Yuan is merely pulling you back down onto him. Keeping his tongue away from your sensitive clit but licking into you instead, groaning, looking up at you hot and wanting. You’re not going to stop now, are you?

• • •

Gepard would be overwhelmed. He likes to take his time eating you out, really getting a taste of you. Maybe that’s why you got so impatient, flipping him over and shoving your hips down into his mouth. His eyes widen in surprise and he’s gasping, eyelashes fluttering when you grab his hair and pull. Of course he’s overwhelmed- and very, very turned on. Gepard would do his best to keep your pace, barely even processing how he’s moaning endlessly into your cunt as he sloppily eats you out and your juices smear on his chin and neck.

You’re worried for him- you just couldn’t help yourself, especially when he looked so good underneath you. When you lean your hips up, loosening your grip on his hair with a worried look- ‘was that okay?’ You’re surprised at what you see. Your boyfriend a pretty flushed mess between your thighs, panting for breath, eyes dazed. His large hands come up to your hips as he licks his lips. Savoring the taste.

‘Keep going,’ he urges you, ‘I want you to.’

After a sight like that, how could you ever refuse?

• • •

Kafka is the queen of eating out. THE QUEEN AND KING OF EATING OUT.

She’s teasing. She’s merciless. She’s the worst thing in the world but you just can’t get enough of her and Kafka knows it. Humming against your dripping cunt with a smile as she languidly swirls her tongue around your clit and fills you with her fingers.

You really had no choice but to try and get some semblance of control. And yes, you ultimately surprised her with the move you pulled as you flipped yourself on top of her. You almost got away with it too, nearly got your pussy on her mouth before her hands were on your hips and pushing you upward. Keeping you just inches away as she stares up at you, cocky grin on her lips.

‘Daring little thing, aren’t you? It’s cute that you think you’ve got control.’ She teases. ‘But I guess if you really want it that bad… go on,’ she tilts your hips down a fraction, hot breath fanning against your center. ‘Take it. Just know that I’m letting you.’

#jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #reader insert #hsr x reader #x reader #gepard #gepard x reader #gepard smut #jing yuan smut #kafka smut #kafka x reader #hsr smut

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vivalabunbun · 1 year

Text

Let's Look Over The Garden Wall

Summary: One wants an easy meal and one wants to play house.

Word Count: 9.9k

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), MDNI, Modern AU, Vampire AU, Contract Marriage, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, pet name? (calls you good girl) TW: Blood & Blood drinking, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader, slight orgasm denial, slight corruption kink, wedding night, temperature play? He falls hard, slow fic, tragedy

Authors note: This whole fic was a challenge since I wanted to write it kinda from Alhaitham’s pov. I’m not really knowledgeable about vampires, so in this fic they’re just a type of monster and not undead, and vampire blood can turn humans into monsters. Enjoy!

Side note: Here is the other side, Finale

The secretary had just arrived at the office not too long ago, shift starting at six pm and going until midnight. The typical hours for a creature of the night.

Like a sweet breeze that blew stray leaves through his office’s open window, a stranger came gallivanting through the boundaries of his door, contract in hand. Faruzan, the office receptionist trailing after you with your proper introduction.

“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.”

He certainly wasn’t expecting this when he walked through the sliding doors of the building. The biggest company in Sumeru, the firm that specialized in such dubious pacts.

In an age where humans now outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten the once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to play by mortal rules. One such rule, vampires can no longer drink human blood.

Animal substitutes were of course inferior in both taste and satisfaction, any vampire would know this. However, there’s a loophole to this law. Vampires can’t drink human blood legally unless it’s consensual by both parties, established through contracts. Business exchanges for money, power, or glory.

Of course, this practice is heavily regulated. Hunters who uphold the balance ready to rip the hearts out of those who dare make an unfair deal. Alhaitham is the simple secretary who files these contracts, not one of the agents tasked with such things.

Still, he’s intrigued. Even in this office there are many who have yet to see the face of this elusive vampire, how did this human identify him? He was looking for an excuse to stray away from dull lines of files, might as well entertain your musings.

The ashen-haired immortal pulls out a seat for you, nodding to Faruzan sending her out of his office, giving you privacy. Alhaitham ambles to the other side of the polished wood, settling down on his plush office chair.

“The process for filling a contract is straightforward, even though this consultation wasn’t planned, if negotiations go well you’ll then undergo a psychological evaluation.”

You nodded your head lightheartedly, posture relaxed in the chair.

“So,” he begins.

“What are your demands?”

“Marry me.”

Dead silence. He certainly wasn’t expecting a proposal this Monday night. Were you wasting his time with a joke?

You must’ve read his unfazed mask. Quickly pulling a pen and notepad from your pocket.

“I’m being serious, I want you to be my husband.” Hands swiftly jotting sentences down on paper.

In your graceless handwriting, you listed all your qualifications. Age, name, blood type, and financial status. You also detailed some self-prescribed personality traits.

Alhaitham skips over that section.

Marriage contracts weren’t unheard of, nor were marriages between humans and vampires. He believes such practices weren’t deemed illegal solely because of human morbid curiosity and desires.

No immortal, with their centuries of knowledge and wisdom, would waste such energy on a mortal, without a price of course. It would be a fool’s errand to not have fair compensation.

“For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine.” You point the pen toward him.

How romantic.

“I’d say you’re getting the better end of the deal, Mr. Alhaitham.” There’s a curl to your lips, resting your elbows upon his polished desk.

With a slight sigh, Alhaitham pulls out a form, pen swiftly recording the necessary information. There’s going to be a long process of straightening out the clauses, but this should suffice for approval.

“Why me?” He inquires, straightening out the proposal on his desk.

“You’re handsome, have money, and I like your voice.”

The rustling of papers and pens stopped. Dead unamused silence.

“Pfft! Too brash? Sorry, sorry, I was only joking,” giggling as you waved it off.

“Well, to be fair the real reason isn’t much better, to be honest.” You leaned in closer, creeping towards the unseen boundaries of his personal space.

“I often see you passing through the streets, guess I got enamored from there.” Your smile was shameless but your cheeks were tinted pink.

A hopeless romantic, that answer suffices him for now. He could’ve easily shown you the door, but life has been stagnant for a few decades. History repeats itself if you live long enough to see it, new occurrences are rare. As the sky deepens from indigo to midnight, two bodies sit across from each other, discussing sentences written on paper.

“I’ll contact you in three business days with the verdict, have a good night.”

“I shall await the news.” You beamed at him, warm and icy hands meeting for a handshake.

Just as you entered, you left with that same giddiness. Now left with his thoughts, Alhaitham reviewed the documents, he had three days to ponder whether or not to submit them to the legal team, and through the judgment of a certain scarlet-eyed General Hunter.

As per Sumeru regulations, all offices run by vampires must have uncovered glass windows. An attempt conquered by humans to enfeeble creatures of the night. Alhaitham’s beryl gaze traveled up the length of the building stationed across the street.

What an ironic placement for a hospital to be facing the biggest firm staffed by immortality. Or perhaps it was strategic, after all the most desperate humans are the ones who lay upon their deathbeds for one last hurrah.

The perfect scheme to keep the blood contracts flowing in.

Teal eyes observe the room right across through the glass, it seems freshly vacant. New untouched sheets, new unflatten pillow, and fresh towels.

Alhaitham can now confirm the validity of your statement, a half-truth.

When deciding on a contract, one must weigh the pros and cons, to see if they balance or if one side gives away to another. Your demands? You wanted to experience married life, all aspects of it. Your offer? Your everything.

All your assets together can’t hold a candle to the amount Alhaitham has accumulated for centuries, but it’s a decent amount. Perhaps due to a medical settlement.

Alhaitham has lived long enough to rein in primal desires, he can suffice off animal substitutes just fine. However, it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want a taste of the real thing again. You offer him a steady supply, and to give him every last drop after seven years.

Yes, all of this for a mere seven-year contract. A deal heavily tipped in the favor of the vampire, not even a mere fraction of the time immortality offers. However, what piqued his interest the most weren’t the benefits listed.

A garden wall the tall vampire can’t peer over. Insight only attainable by those who near the end of their finite paths. What’s it like to have agency? What’s it like to have such finite time?

He’ll have seven years to observe. He submits the forms on the third day, delivering your verdict over the phone. Alhaitham agrees to entertain your little daydream.

On part that it was Alhaitham who personally filed the forms, the approval process went swimmingly, skipping the paper line. Tighnari oversaw the psychological evaluation, test after test confirming the sanity of your mind, speeding up the process of getting that stamp.

–

“What flowers do you like? I’m planning the decorations.” Your legs swinging under his kitchen table.

The contract was approved, hands held and certificates signed at the town hall, your belongings moved into his house. It’s excessive to want a celebration after all of that.

“Whichever flowers you want.”

Alhaitham will hold his tongue, after all, he’s signed to play the role of a husband.

–

The venue was spacious, high ceilings with marble floors and pillars, all of which were lavishly cluttered with Padisarahs, Sumeru Roses, and Kalpalata Lotuses. Alhaitham stood at the altar just off to the side of the wedding officiant. Tuxedo crisp and hands folded together, he scans over the rows of guests invited.

Since there weren’t any in-laws, Alhaitham assumed you wouldn’t have much of a social network. No one’s correct all the time, he ignores the piercing glares of a few eyes. The all-too-loud tones of a grand piano resound through the room. The previously shut doors open to reveal your figure. Embellished dress and veil perfectly framed by the carved entranceway as you ambled your way up the aisle.

The twilight hues of the sky dye the white gown in everchanging vibrancy as you passed by the standing crowd, up the steps to the altar, and finally in front of him. The overwhelmingly floral scent of the bouquet itches his nose.

Alhaitham pays no mind to the soliloquy of the officiant, he simply follows the rehearsed procedures. Sliding the gold band onto your finger and allowing you to do the same to him, lifting the veil to reveal your starry-eyed gaze he places a practiced kiss against your warm lips.

Is this excessive ritual over yet? No.

Alhaitham stands in the corner of the reception hall, hand nursing a glass of wine. The rich spices of the buffet offered to the guest irritated his palate. Supernatural creatures with their enhanced senses, a double-edged sword. Human food serves no purpose to vampires, it’s over-seasoned and pungent. At least your species has created drinks such as coffee and wine, delicacies even immortal creatures can enjoy.

In the center of the artificially lit hall, you eagerly greeted all your guests as they beamed at you. Giggling and hugging each person as an entourage of three friends helped with that embellished gown of yours. Two pairs of eyes from said entourage occasionally glared at him, their bodies forming a barrier to separate groom from bride. Candace and Dehya were the names you introduced to him.

Your starry-eyed self blissfully unaware of the silent cold war as the scarlet-haired dancer calls the attention of the two hunters back for the bouquet toss. Alhaitham was nothing more than just a decoration, you just wanted an excuse to prance around in a pretty white dress and throw a fancy party. He’s your husband, he’ll tolerate this daydream.

–

“Did you enjoy the reception?”

Only after the send-off and closing ceremony of the celebration, when the bride and groom were behind the thick oak doors of their suite, that you seemed to remember the decoration named ‘Alhaitham’.

“Yes, it was lovely.” The wine provided by the venue was of the highest quality, it entertained him enough.

“I hope you’re not upset at me being busy with guests.” Your arms found their way around his waist.

Quite comfortable encroaching on his space huh.

“I’m not.” Better they talk to you and not him.

As his cold hands pat the exposed skin of your back, his teal eyes didn’t miss the trail of goosebumps that prickled your skin. Shall he move on to the next scene? The lacing of your dress seems quite complicated, he assumes that it must have taken a few pairs of hands to tie it. Should he be a good husband?

“Do you need help with this?” His baritone voice was right against your ear, noticing the flush on the tips.

“Yes.” For once your voice was just barely above a whisper, a blushing bride.

The lacing weaved in and out of eyelets running down along the length of your back, how troublesome. Always one for efficiency, Alhaitham simply takes a handful of the taught lace and pulls, they snapped like simple threads. Such things offer no resistance to a creature of the night. The gasp that escaped your lips feed into something deep within.

With the bonds loosened, the embellished dress of yours lost the fight against gravity, fabric pooling at your feet. Revealing to teal eyes the lacy white stockings, garter belt, and panties, all the hallmarks of a wedding night. It’s impossible to deny the hunger crawling up his throat, no force of nature could resist such a sight.

“Aren’t you forgetting something? It’s rude to not offer the groom some help, no?” His hunger enjoyed that scarlet flush on your face.

Indecisive fingers going for the easiest button, opening the tuxedo jacket allowing him to shimmy it off his broad shoulders. Teal eyes continued to survey your flushed face, the smirk on his waiting for your hands to continue. Obeying his silent command like a good bride, you loosened the bow tie next, finally freeing him from that stiff collar.

Slowly your eyes peered up, asking if the torment was over yet, the slight rise in his ash brow directing you to resume. From your lips came the beginnings of a whine to which he sternly shushed. If you couldn’t even undress him how would you be able to do the other vulgar activities?

Finally relenting, your fingers continued with their clumsy attempt at unbuttoning his dress shirt, once a small window of his chest appeared your face pressed against the cool skin, staying there until all the buttons were undone. Oh? So even you can feel shame?

“Shall we continue on the bed, my bride?”

Your face was still hidden in his chest as you nodded, where did that shameless nature of yours go? With your gaze adverted he didn’t even bother hiding the curl of his lips. Sweeping you off the ground, he could hear the flutter in your chest increasing as the distance between the bed closes.

Upon silk sheets, Alhaitham settles down with you in between his legs and back against his chest. One key difference between humans and vampires? Body heat, one creature’s cells produces warmth, while the other simply remains the temperature of the environment. Your flushed skin seared itself into his, icy and hot mending together to create an equilibrium.

Of course, a good husband would warm his wife up. Alhaitham runs his cool palms along the length of your plush thighs and leg, absorbing the warmth as his own, soothing the shivers and goosebumps on your skin. Every now and then boldly creeping up the sides of your waist to twist at your perked nipples, enjoying every jolt and whine.

“Oh? Since when was this transparent?”

A firm hand grasps your chin, directing your vision towards white lace panties, the fingers on his other hand tracing over the shape of your cunt through the soaked fabric. Another lovely whine left your lips, face burning even more as you weakly protested in his hold, too powerless to do anything.

Skilled digits honed in on the nub that made your body jolt away, rubbing the faintest of circles over the delicate fabric, your legs trapped by his robust arms standing no chance to preserve your shattered dignity. As such, you had to follow his desires tonight.

“Or are you excited just by a few fleeting touches? What a lewd bride you are.”

It seems that you were telling the whole truth when you exclaimed how much you liked his voice, his finger could feel the slick that began to seep through the lace. Brushing the fabric to the side, Alhaitham allowed his middle finger to collect the slick along your slit allowing the rest of his digits to warm up against your cunt’s soft mounds. His throat felt parched as the sweet scent teased his nose, but now was not the time, maybe later in the night.

“Will you be honest?” The heel of this palm freely pressed against your clit as his middle finger continued to run up and down your wet lips, every now and then almost slipping.

Your body couldn’t hide its eagerness, hole clenching at nothing every time his finger passed by. However, he needed confirmation from you. Communication is important in a contract no?

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’ll be honest.” You pressed your back flat against his chest, trying to hide your face but his firm hold wouldn’t allow it.

“Good girl, then tell me what you desire.” His crisp breath provides your searing skin some relief.

Your plush lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes shut, cheeks heating up even more. It wouldn’t be good if you passed out from heat exhaustion so quickly. He grinds his palm into that sensitive nub, tormenting the answer out of you, nectar now dripping onto the sheets below.

“I want to c-cum,” You breathed out.

How direct, close but it wasn’t what he was looking for.

“You have to be more clear with your instructions, how do you want to cum?”

“Y-your fingers.”

“Good girl.” Finally, his finger breached your soaked entrance.

Pulsating walls welcomed him with unyielding squeezes, dragging his soaked digit further. Your sweet moans and whines resounded through the spacious suite, the volume of your voice directing him toward that spongey spot deep within. You were wet enough for another finger, so Alhaitham adds another, two digits stretching and exploring your soaked cavern.

“Mmmh! T-there!” Your toes were curling.

“Mmm.” The hum vibrated in his chest as his fingers went hard at work, thrusting into your quivering walls.

Each time his palm would slap against your clit your honest hole would clench down so endearingly. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, the muscles in your leg tensing up more and more. It’s obvious that you were close, but before he fulfilled your demands, he decided to be proactive and prepare for the next step.

Releasing your chin from his grasp, allowing your head to lull back against his shoulder. Alhaitham reaches between your bodies, hands never pausing their pace, swift fingers undoing the confines of his trousers. Allowing for his member to lay right against your back, the jolt of your body at the foreign object pressing against you made his hunger worse.

“Did you get more turned on? You’re clenching down tighter, did you want it that badly?”

Even if your eyes refused to meet his, the way your hips grind against his length, warming it up, told him all he needed to know. Your gummy walls constrict more around his fingers, it’s time to wrap up this scene, the next one is even more exciting. So his palm now digs into your clit, circling the now swollen bud in combination with his finger pressing against that nice spot deep inside.

“C-cummin-”

How cute, he didn’t even need to ask you to announce it. Letting your body ripple with the force of the orgasm, trembling limbs within his solid hold. If he was merciful, he would’ve continued to slide his fingers in and out, or maybe continue to caress your little nub, guiding you back to reality. However, hunger doesn’t allow for mercy.

Removing his soaked digits away from your pulsating cunt, teal eyes observing the transparent strings that clung to them with amusement. A small appetizer wouldn’t spoil the main meal, skilled tongue cleaning his fingers of your slick. Your head still limp against his shoulder, eyes rolled back in the throws of pleasure. To bring you back down to earth, it's best to use a new type of force.

Effortlessly, your hips were lifted up dripping cunt lined up with his impatient length below. In one fluid motion, your walls encase everything, drenched cunt giving no resistance as his tip kisses the spongy spot. Alhaitham lets a hiss escape him, it was as if he thrusted into the sun, your walls quickly bringing his member up to its temperature.

From your lips another moan was ripped out, oh it seems that you’ve plummeted back to reality. Your cunt trembled yet gripped onto his cock like a vice, coaxing him to go in deeper, encouraging his hunger to abuse your gummy walls even more. Barely riding out one wave of pleasure before another drowned you.

The hunters at your wedding could stick to your side the whole celebration, they could glare at him all they wanted, and they could try their damndest to keep the vampire at a distance. However, it was all efforts wasted in vain. For it was you, the blushing bride, who walked straight into his arms in the end, so open and receptive.

As he slides out just the slightest bit, your cunt protested by desperately clamping down, begging for his thick girth to stay in. In response he tightened his grip on your hips, lifting your body back up before bouncing you back down. What a glutton for pleasure you were, even as your little mouth whimpered and babbled, your walls thanked each slap of his hips with squeezes.

Sadistic hunger wanted more, to thrust deeper, to bully that poor spot inside of you over and over again with his thick tip as your walls stretch to accommodate the girth. His thighs collected the mixture of sweat and slickness from your body at each thrust. Your fingers dug into his hands, fingers white as you tried to grasp at anything to ground yourself.

“F-fast, too m-much.” There was drool escaping the corner of your parted lips, eyes barely back from seeing the inside of your head.

“Oh? Do you want me to stop?”

Alhaitham grinds to a stop, member still pressing deep inside you as he pulled you closer so his breath could ghost over your nape. In an instant, your mouth and cunt protested, you should be more clear with your instructions.

“N-noo.” Crying over the ruined tension.

“No? You wanted this.” His finger finds its way back to that swollen nub, flicking it a few times to watch the jumps of your body.

“If I let you cum, then I’ll do it my way, is that clear, my bride?” Tormenting your clit with firm circles.

“Yes! Please! P-pleasee.”

So weak against his voice, the sweet calls of a beast to lure you into the depths of depravity. Such is the fate of a shameless bride. Thus, his hips sprang back into action with renewed vigor. One hand keeps your hips still and the other remains on your clit to force that knot to reappear deep inside you.

Nothing but nonsense and moans babbled from your loose face, nectar dripping down to his heavy balls as they slapped against you with each pistoning of his hips. Your frantic hands entangled themselves into ash-mint locks as he felt gummy walls closing in tighter and tighter, your toes curling at the end of spread legs. Sinful slaps increased in frequency throughout the room as did the pace of the finger on your clit.

Your tense body held the warning of another storm, another fall off the edge into the depths. Alhaitham brushes his nose up your nape, the floral scent didn’t distract him from the goal laying just behind the skin. Your nerves were exhausted from the shooting pleasure, now was the perfect time to finally get his share. It’s only fair.

Prepping the area with a slow lick as his hips continued their brutal pace, incisors brushed against the delicate skin before piercing through. His hand shot up from your hip to your neck, a loose grip holding you still as your body tensed then violently shivered. The frenzy clamping of your cunt on his length was proof of your fall. Loose jaw uttering out broken moans as tears dripped down your chin.

The fresh scarlet flooded over his tongue and down his throat as Alhaitham continued with his slow suckling. Ah, you were very much like a flower, so delicate, so fragrant, and so bittersweet. It’s been almost a century since he last tasted the real thing, his body celebrated by filling your walls with thick release. An equivalent exchange of some sort.

A human body is quite frail, losing over two pints of blood borders on fatal territory. It’s not good to deplete a resource so quickly. Alhaitham releases your neck, running his tongue over the wound to seal it up. Teal eyes checked your complexion to ensure his measurements were accurate. Cheeks still with a healthy red flush as your chest heaved with pants, eyes glistening with tears. Such a shameless sight. He allows your head to roll onto his shoulder.

The rhythm of your heart settles back to its resting state as Alhaitham analyzes the taste he just experienced.

“I love you,” you breathed into his shoulder.

Alhaitham stiffens, the herbal aftertaste of your blood was bitter, the tang dried out his mouth causing a drawn-out pause. This is no good, he can’t miss the cue to say the line a bride longs to hear from her groom.

“I love you too.”

The choir of crickets from the world outside filled the void along with your pants.

“Pfft! Maybe let’s not say that, it’s too weird.” You shamelessly laughed, lifting your face from his skin.

What a relief, at least you seem to still have sense. Such words felt forcefully wedged into a script that wasn’t written for it. Might as well remove the line altogether. Moving on from the scene, Alhaitham lets you enjoy the warmth reflected off his body by yours.

It’s in the clauses to allow you to enjoy all aspects of marriage, so enjoy this honeymoon segment.

“Haitham, can you carry this for me please?”

“Haitham, I can’t reach, can you get it please?”

“Haitham, let’s have panipuri tonight!... Can you cook it please?”

It would’ve been better if he remained nothing more than just a decoration. It would’ve been easier if he was just a view for you to see behind glass. Perhaps Alhaitham’s acute eyes misread the contract, did you want a husband or just a maid?

Instead of sitting down in his own house to enjoy a book, he finds himself saddled with domestic responsibilities.

Must you call on him for everything?

Laundry and groceries aren’t that heavy. If you can’t reach the top shelves with the duster, then just get a chair. No ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ could prevent the downward tug of his lips every time you call him that doltish name. Your justification of a ‘nickname’ between lovers was moronic.

“Huh… Haitham how come you only use salt?”

Why do you make a creature who doesn’t consume such foods cook them? You’re more than capable of cooking for yourself every day. Although, Alhaitham would prefer it if you stopped using such overly fragrant herbs and spices.

Of course, when two breaths occupy the same space, there are bound to be pieces that don’t fit together, just as two breaths never sync. Alhaitham already factored those into his decision, but this was more proof of why a theory is always second to application. How troublesome the reality of marriage is, no wonder divorce rates are so high.

A good actor knows how to stay in character, so he’ll keep these thoughts to himself. Just as he lists your quirks silently.

One, you’re capricious. One moment silently enjoying a drama on the TV you asked him to purchase, body hogging the entire expanse of a couch. The next, you’ll be humming as plates and cups clatter in the sink, or the heavy thumps of your steps as you bound through the house with a mop. Alhaitham prefers it when you’re stationary, at least it doesn’t disturb his reading.

–

Two, you drink tea, an unfathomable amount of it. A warm cup always nestled between your fingers, bitter water mixed with honey. The herbal tang finds its way into your blood, making it taste like medicine. Thus, Alhaitham treats it as such, medicine just to alleviate suppressed bloodlust taken in moderation.

–

Three, you wanted to celebrate everything. Each square of a calender marked with scribbles. Why celebrate a celebration that’s already past? What is so special about a birthday? The past two years you purchased the same bundle of pungent flowers that made up that bouquet on that day to gift to him.

“Don’t you want a taste? I saved a slice just for you. Oh, would you eat it if I sprinkled some of my blood on it?”

Alhaitham swiftly accepts the plate from you, lifting the fork of overly sweet birthday cake into his mouth. Useless carbs take up space in his body, but such a thing causes no harm. Better to taste like pure sugar and not medicine.

–

The worst quirk of yours? You rise as soon as the sun greets the sky, adamant to not miss a single second of a day. Every day’s itinerary is filled with spur-of-the-moment decisions, such as going to a farmers market only open on Saturdays between the hours of 9 am and 2 pm. And how you drag him along.

Curses, only a human would drag a creature of the night into the day. What sadistic creatures, delighting in others' misery, you’re no exception.

“I thought you said vampires aren’t like how TV depicts them.” Curious eyes observe his slouched figure.

Vampires aren’t like how those dramas of yours depict them. No formal invitation to cross wooden thresh holds, no garlic braids as an effective shield, and no turning into a pile of ash at the mere rays of a star.

If so, then vampires would’ve been long gone by now. However, just because the sunlight can’t kill a vampire-

“It doesn’t mean it’s not unpleasant.” His stoic voice was too tired to add a bite.

You continued to stare at him with wonderment, as if what he said was the most complex theory known to the universe. Those dramas must’ve rotted that mind of yours, he concludes. You’re beyond saving.

“I see.” Gentle hands lift the excessive sun hat from your head.

Reaching on your tiptoes you place it atop his head, the straw brim providing some reprieve for his irritated skin. Shuffling the hat around until it’s securely nested along his now trussed ash locks. Satisfied, you lower yourself back down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. We can go home..”

Tenderly, your hands clasped around his, guiding him into the shade. The whole walk your hands never left his, eyes always searching for the next patch of shadows to lead him into. For the rest of the weekend, you just watched your dramas, the sensation of guilt must’ve muted your voice.

Good. He celebrated this rare break in his library away from you.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. Monday night rolled around again, as he passes the living room, he spots your loafing body napping on his couch as the TV acted as white noise. Tsk. Regardless, it’s time to get to work, he walks toward the front door.

“Wait,” came a soft command, dripping with sleep.

From around the corner, your figure comes stumbling towards Alhaitham, his hand still firmly on the knob. Hands busy trying to rub the fatigue away from your eyes, blinking away the pleasant dream you were just in.

Why did you abandon it? Alhaitham doesn’t know.

Your frame reaches his, transferring some of your warmth to him, arms outstretched towards his neck. Teal eyes don’t miss the way your drowsy legs were wobbling. To prevent any accidents, he supports your body with an arm around the waist.

Just as he feels your body steady, clammy palms encase the sides of his face. Pulling it down as your supple lips pressed against his cool cheek. Did you traverse all the way from the sofa just for a kiss?

“Have a good night at work.” Your shameless smile beamed.

A habit formed from one of your dramas, a wife bidding goodbye to her husband with a sweet kiss to boost his spirits. Curiosity must have gotten the better of you, or maybe you wanted to amuse yourself, two possibilities Alhaitham devises.

–

“So, how’s married life treating you?” Kaveh’s smug tone grated against his eardrums as the blond rested an elbow on the bar table.

Alhaitham couldn’t stop the frown from forming, nor the heavy sigh, so he took a hearty sip of his wine. Emptying the glass in one fluid motion.

“Heh, I see you’ve been enjoying the spoils of marriage very much,” Tighnari snickered.

“Sure, if you wish to see it that way.” Alhaitham’s hand found itself pouring another glass.

It seems that everyone around the ashen-haired vampire was enjoying the spoils of this odd union, everyone but him that is. His miseries fueling the chaff nature of his acquaintances, still he needed a reprieve to drink.

Not that herbal blood of yours, but something actually palatable like the fragrant wine washing the frustrations down his throat. It’s not marriage, it’s having to work overtime.

“Regardless, you signed a contract, you must uphold the clauses.” Cyno’s scarlet eyes leered over the rim of his glass.

Alhaitham sighs, he should’ve drank alone.

–

The tavern wasn’t a far journey away from his house. The deep hues of night slowly shift to the youthful flushes of dawn. He’s been drinking for quite some time, it didn’t matter, alcohol has no effect on a body such as his.

Alhaitham twists the key, the door creaking ajar just to reveal your figure with arms crossed. Disappointment ever so clear in those eyes of yours.

“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your tone.

After a few hours of reprieve, Alhaitham is welcomed home with an interrogation. Wonderful. Why should he answer this meek creature standing in front of him? He could just walk to bed and get the rest he deserves.

‘You must uphold the clauses.’

Right, Alhaitham has to play the role of a husband, he signed a contract, too late to just burn the papers now.

“I went drinking with coworkers,” he curtly answers.

“Why didn’t you call beforehand?” Your head tilts, disappointed eyes still honed on him.

Why does he have to inform you of his every movement? Who were you to demand so much of his individuality? Alhaitham couldn’t help the frown that reappeared, directed at you, the hurdle that blocked him from entering his own home.

The grandfather clock counted the seconds in the background, two sets of eyes locked in a stare-down. One frowning and one disappointed. How long will this last?

Your shoulders slumped as a sigh left your lungs. Eyes finally finding rest behind two heavy lids.

“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed.

Your back straightens again as you lean in closer, eyes recentering on his towering form. They no longer held the burden of disappointment, they twinkled with something else.

“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.

“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call. I got worried.”

What wasted concern, why worry for an immortal creature?

“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either, but if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text. So I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.”

Alhaitham scans over the discoloration hanging heavily under your eyes. An unpleasant sensation crawled up his spine. Phone shut off by habit, unaware of how you were losing sleep as he emptied bottle after bottle. He has to remedy the situation now, it’s what a husband should do.

“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers.

Is he allowed back into the confines of his own house now?

Your hands were now positioned defiantly on your hips, brows quirked up as if expecting something more.

No.

“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted.

The magic words to finally open the path into the house, words that finally returned that grin to your face. Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek.

“Welcome home, Haitham.”

Ah, he knows what that twinkle in your eyes was, sincerity.

Audiences rarely see the behind-the-scenes of a movie, with directors always handpicking which mistakes are charming enough to be shown as a blooper. Audiences don’t see the multiple scenes filmed then refilmed, they can’t experience the long hours, and they don’t know how many times lines were misread. Three years is enough time for actors to learn their lines.

“Is my drama too loud?”

Alhaitham peers over the top of the journal, focusing on your face peeking through the entrance of his library. Judging by the apron, he guesses it's almost time for dinner, the dialogue playing on the TV was just above a muffle from here.

“It’s fine, remember to turn on the kitchen hood.”

“Okay, which wine did you want to baste the meat in?”

“Top left, how long will it take?”

“Pfft, famished already? 15 minutes, you won’t waste away in that time right, Haitham?”

The ever-so-adventurous palate of yours and the ever-so-drab palate of his. An unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, two existences that bend and twist each other until equilibrium. Equilibrium in the form of a steak basted in red wine, rare for him and medium for you. A dinner that could be enjoyed by both breaths.

–

“Oh?” Your bewildered eyes blink at the bouquet presented to you.

A wrapped box held tenderly in your hands. Alhaitham had taken note of a certain scribble marked on the calendar, it was he who got the fourth bouquet. Placing an order ahead of time to ensure the freshest flowers.

“You said they smelled bad.”

“I’m used to it.” A half-truth.

Your lips couldn’t suppress its toothy grin, balancing the box in one hand as the other accepts the bouquet.

“Since you have every book in existence, I got you something else.” You nudged the wrapped present toward him.

Unraveling the decorative paper his eyes were greeted by the sight of a carved figure of a… what is it? Meeting your eager gaze, the quirk in his eyebrow told enough.

“It’s a hawk, I saw in storage that you used to collect these decorations.”

Ah, you found a petty hobby he had decades ago to torment a certain someone. A figure serves no practical purpose in a home, but the eagerness of your eyes was enough to find the endearing gift a place on a shelf.

–

“How does one make their blood tastier?” You pondered into his embrace.

His tongue traveled up the nape of your neck to collect the escaped drops of scarlet and to close up the wound. Your bare skin pressed against his, rising his temperature to a pleasant warmth.

He could feel every shiver as his length shifted within your overstimulated walls, recovering the overwhelming pleasure experienced just moments earlier.

What an obvious answer, stop drinking that tea of yours. However, Alhaitham prefers when you have the energy to trot through crowded walkways at dusk with him in tow. Bittersweetness is an acquired taste, one that took him some time.

“Since you have enough clarity to ask questions, I’m assuming you’re up for another round.” His husky breath ghosts over your ear.

“Wait~ I’m still sens-Ah!”

–

Over time, something as short as five years, even a trickle of water can crave a home for itself in the rocky foundations of the earth that’s existed since the dawn of time.

The side of the polished dinner table with the clearest view of the TV was your side.

The mug left in the sink with the faint aroma of tea and sweet honey was your mug.

The couch with cushions misshapen and molded by repeated use was your couch.

Such is the lull of domestic reality, each kiss at the door to bid goodbye and each kiss to welcome him back.

Nothing, not even immortality, is resistant to time.

Due to the crowd you’ve built your circle from, hunters were semi-frequent guests at his home. Much to your delight and his dismay. A husband should get along with his wife’s friends.

“Your complexion has gotten paler.” Candace’s heterochromatic eyes narrowed, her hands turning your face from side to side.

“Mmm, I haven’t been going out during the day as much.” Resting the weight of your head within her palms.

“Bullshit, he’s been using you like livestock,” Dehya snapped.

“Mmm? Not really, he says my blood taste like leaves.” Halfheartedly lifting your face out of Candace’s warm hold.

“Don’t cover for that bastard,” the Flame-Mane hunter scowls.

“Need I remind you ‘that bastard’ is still in the room?” Alhaitham breaks his silence.

“Who said you could speak?” Sapphires clash with beryls.

“Who’s home are you currently guests in?”

Even without glancing down, Alhaitham could tell that Dehya’s hand was twitching to reach for the silver dagger hidden up her sleeve. The hand then falters back down, Candace must’ve also noticed, steadfast eyes sending a warning to the other hunter.

“Of all people, why did you have to marry this vampire?” Dehya turns to you exasperated.

“Mmm,” you hummed.

With the finger pressed against your lip and your eyes wandering up towards nothing, Alhaitham couldn’t tell if you were deep in thought or just faking it.

Your pondering filled the room with silence, three pairs of eyes intently trained on your frame. Eyelids closed as you deepened your thought. After a few beats, they fluttered back open.

“Because he’s just too handsome.” There’s that shameless smile again.

The disgusted expression that plastered itself all over the hunter’s face at your response almost pushed a quiet laugh from his lips. However, Alhaitham wanted to avoid a physical confrontation from starting in his house.

If there’s one virtue you have, it’s that you’re a fair person. You perplex your friends and husband to equal degrees.

It’s now time for the hunters to start their night, much like how Alhaitham will soon report to the office. The two women and you were now at the threshold of the door bidding goodbye, their skeptical eyes every now and then glaring behind you at the vampire.

“Oh, one more thing,” your voice perks up.

Arms encapsulated two sturdy frames, pulling them close against yours.

“I love you guys.” Your words make the two robust warriors take a sharp inhale, bodies tensing up momentarily.

“We love you too, very much.” Candace’s voice forced itself to steady.

“Yeah.” Dehya pulled you closer.

After a few beats, you pulled away from your friends. Lighthearted grin lopsided on your face.

“Alright then, stay safe out there,” you chimed, waving at them.

After their figures disappeared from view, Alhaitham shut the oak door. You still peered out the curtains, daydreaming something as the stars reflected in your eyes. He observes for a moment before he collects the cups and dishes that once held tea and sweets to entertain bygone guests.

You were already surrounded by love, genuine love. Why did you sell your soul to experience something you already had? Alhaitham will save that question for another day.

Would you try saying that line to him again? Maybe this time he read his line without hesitation.

–

Alhaitham’s heavy lids shot open. The unwelcome greetings of morning birds signaled the time of day. Keen eyes scanned over the empty space beside him, sheets still trussed in the shape of a smaller figure. The bird songs rang like sirens, heightening his senses.

For once his ageless body left the bed without protest, swift steps pattering through the dim halls until the backyard came into view. Sunlight poured in through the open door, the wooden mounts perfectly framing your slumped figure.

Tired body balancing upon the basket of damp laundry, halfway from the backdoor and clothes line, you stopped to take labored breaths.

Swiftly he was by your side, towering stature blocking you from the harsh rays. Alhaitham lifts your fatigued body from the ground, giving your aching legs relief. Even with the sun hanging high in the sky, your skin didn’t absorb an ounce of warmth.

He takes you to the safety of the dim house, settling you onto the soft cushions of your couch.

“Don’t push yourself.” Alhaitham shifts a few pillows behind your back.

“I wasn’t, the laundry needs to be hung,” you huffed.

“Just call for me.”

You sounded out a whine of protest, but your breathing steadied. Alhaitham moves to stand back to full height, ready to finish the task awaiting out in the sun.

“Wait,” came your soft call.

Plucking your favorite sun hat off, you bestowed it upon unkempt ash locks still dusted with sleep. Fussing with the oversized straw brim until it stayed in place. Once satisfied you beamed, fingers caressing his smooth cheeks before placing a peck from curled lips.

“Thank you, Haitham.”

Adamant hands smoothed over the damp clothes, ensuring that they didn’t dry on the line with wrinkles that stayed stubbornly. The morning rays felt like sand against his exposed skin, but the hat bestowed upon him made it tolerable.

–

“It’s dusk, would you like to stroll through the market tonight?” Beryl eyes inspect the curled figure of his wife among cushions and blankets.

“Mmm, maybe not tonight.” You sink deeper into your couch, drama long forgotten.

“I see.” Alhaitham moves to the armchair just adjacent to you, a frequent perch of his now.

“Come here?”

Just as you finished blinking Alhaitham was by your side again. Slowing lifting your upper body just off the cushion, you pat the now free space, welcoming him to sit. He wouldn’t be a good husband if he were to deny such a request. So he sits.

Once the ashen-haired vampire was fully situated, your head found its place upon his thighs.

“Lap pillow,” there was that giggle of yours.

Alhaitham sighs, but he couldn’t prevent the corner of his lips from curling up, so he hides it with his book. This must be something you learned from those dramas again. He’ll humor it.

His cool fingers run along your scalp as his teal eyes switched between your resting face and the words printed along the aged paper.

Maybe not today, perhaps tomorrow when the rays of a selfish star kiss your cheeks.

–

The drinks were served quietly, the tavern didn’t seem as lively tonight. Perhaps because it’s the busy season, Spring air carries with it the signs of renewing life and tax forms.

“So, how is she, the wife?” Kaveh traverses the stagnant air.

What a redundant question, Alhaitham knows they can smell the fragrance lingering on his body from you, the aroma of flowers only found in a garden beyond a line immortals can cross. The scent of an ending journey.

“I’ll send some more Kalpalata Lotus tea, one cup a day should help with lethargy.” Tighnari prescribes, making a mental note to prepare the delivery once he returns home.

“Thank you, how much would I owe?”

“None, just a gift for your wife.”

Alhaitham hums in gratitude, and the table continued to play cards placidly. Throughout the rounds, his teal eyes stole glances over to a dark screen.

The group dispersed at dawn, but it wasn’t long before Alhaitham acknowledged the presence behind him.

“Alhaitham.”

He only glanced over his shoulder at the tan vampire.

“Remember the punishment that awaits those who dare disturb the cycle of life.” A threatening crackle resounded from the curled fingers by Cyno’s side.

Alhaitham already knows and Cyno knows it all too well. After all, the privilege of a good true death was stolen away from the white-haired man many years ago. Cursing the shorter man to eternity. Thus, Cyno now spends eternity punishing those who dare break the most sacred law.

Alhaitham responds with a nod and with that the two men parted ways as the rosy hues of dawn dyed the sky. You’re probably in bed already, it’ll be his kiss to announce his return.

–

In an age where humans outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to obey mortal laws. The most sacred of laws, vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings. It’s illegal, it’s immoral even to curse such fleeting creatures with eternity.

However, vampires are creatures born outside the grace of god from the very start, lurking in the shadows of iconoclasm. What difference would it make?

It’s his night to make dinner, steak with red wine sauce.

What is the difference between blood and wine to the inattentive eye? The scarlet hues could be easily mixed. All it would take is a sprinkle, drops stirred into the fragrant sauce served over the juicy meat, for you to abandon your humanity. For the ticking of a grandfather clock to stop its hands.

Who wouldn’t want more time?

A scene from a night now long past resurfaces at the front of Alhaitham’s mind.

–

“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence after a moment of passion.

Your damp skin glistens under the moonlight, your chest rising and falling as the lust slowly blinks away from your eyes. Alhaitham’s hand on your back guides you down from cloud nine. You stared at him inquisitively, teal reflecting back to him as he remains silent.

Ashen hair tussled and scratches fading away from cooling skin, he awaits your answer, schemes manifesting.

You let out a hum, signing that you’ll humor his question this time, as your face rests against the pillow comforted by his woodsy scent.

–

If you had more time, he would have more time. More time to pick your brain. More time to search through the archives of your thoughts to decrypt you. More time to grovel at your feet for forgiveness after he rips the humanity away from your arms.

Alhaitham is a prideful thing, but he’s not a dense fool. He knows when an apology is necessary, insight gained from his time shared with you.

Teal eyes glance back behind him towards the living room, where your figure sat quietly, attention distracted by the pair of lovers on screen in the midst of a tense argument. Never once turning behind to glance into the kitchen, not one ounce of suspicion. The scene finishes.

–

“I was born a human.” Your lids opened again, meeting his beryl-like eyes.

Irises pure like the moonlight reflected in them. He hums in acknowledgment, fingers tracing mindless scripts into your tender back.

“I will die as one.”

He hums in confirmation.

–

A riddle he couldn’t quite solve to bypass the sphinx who guards the sanctuary of your mind. Humans are greedy creatures of conquest, always wanting more, always hungry for more. That’s why creatures like him exist and thrive, feeding into the natural greed of humans.

Every human wants more power, more money, more wisdom. Every human wants more and more and more. Every human, so why can’t you want more? It seems that the breeze who gallivanted into his office, proposing to him with a contract, won’t reveal her secret.

As it was outlined on the paper signed by two names, he shall honor your wishes for now until the end, such is the character of a husband.

Alhaitham runs his hand under the kitchen sink, shameless eyes watching as the water turns clear again, and as the skin closes up. A feature only a creature born outside the jurisdiction of god would have.

He finishes the meal with a few sprinkles of freshly cut herbs, serving the untainted sauce over juicy cuts of steak, one cooked medium and one cooked rare. He calls you over to the dinner table.

The average human life span has increased drastically in the past centuries, it’s now about eighty years give or take.

Still a mere fraction of the time held by vampires.

Eighty years, and yet you could only have a fraction of that. You could only offer him a sliver of a fraction.

–

“It’s been a while since you’ve fed, aren’t you hungry?” Your eyes peered over at him.

Alhaitham wipes the washcloth along your back from beside the porcelain tub, steamy water carrying the fragrance of Nilotpala Lotuses. The humidity of the bathroom made the shirt cling to his skin like a wet rag, but the moisture helped with your coughs.

“I’m satisfied.” Another half-truth, teal eyes scan for any signs of discomfort, he can bare it.

“Really? I’m sure my blood doesn’t taste like leaves anymore.” You rested your cheek again on the warm washcloth, eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights as you looked into his.

The gift by Tighnari sitting untouched in the corner of a cabinet. Perhaps you’ve gotten tired of the bitter herbal taste, or maybe because there wasn’t a point in drinking it anymore.

Alhaitham fought the urge to click his tongue at your brash humor, only you would worry about how you taste during the closing days of a contract. However, his lips couldn’t form a frown when you beamed at him like that.

–

On the path to work, beryl eyes landed upon a bouquet arranged with familiar flowers, the petals dyed by the rich hues of dusk. The florist was busy gathering up the displays to bring them back inside for the night.

“Excuse me, I’d like to purchase this bouquet.”

That night at the office, the staffed vampires crinkled their noses at the overwhelmingly floral scent that plagued the floor. Alhaitham just shut his office door, bouquet resting in a hastily prepared vase, such a thing won’t kill a vampire it’s such a minuscule issue.

“I’m home.” He locks the door after him.

Keen hearing not picking up the pattering of feet along the hardwood floor. Placing the flowers on the entranceway table along with his dress shoes, the ashen-haired immortal trekked through the halls, silence ringing in his ears.

Behind the solid bedroom lay his answer, turning the knob, Alhaitham feels tense muscles loosen as the steady melody of breaths resounded through the room.

You’ve been here since this afternoon, body now imprinted into the plush mattress. Still, your blood still runs and your chest still rises, even if there were faint hints of wheezing it was good enough. Quiet as a shadow, Alhaitham removes his blazer and tie before joining you under the sheets. He’s been craving sleep.

A timeless body doesn’t need sleep, ageless cells don’t require such downtime to recover. However, claiming that vampires don’t enjoy sleep would be a blatant lie. A calm way to pass the endless time offered by eternity, a nice way to escape boredom.

Or maybe it’s because sleep gives immortal creatures a taste of an experience they’ll never have. Peaceful expiry.

Teal eyes observe the ever-present curl of your lips before cool lips are pressed against your plush ones. A habit formed after six years. The flowers were still left at the door, but they’ll survive the night. Alhaitham will show them to you in the morning, and you’ll beam that grin at him in the morning.

–

Fresh flowers rested in a vase gifted by friends on the nightstand, the last flowers of Spring. The delicate blooms give way to the vibrant greens of Summer. Such a cruel season for vampires, with days so long and nights so short. A cruel season that offered your body no additional warmth.

Alhaitham’s hand brushes against the apples of your cheeks, your unconscious body protests in an instant with shivers and curls away from the thief stealing what precious heat you had. As if burned by fire, the vampire retracts his hand.

Right, he can’t be greedy. Teal eyes watch every tremor until his legs finally remembered how to walk. Pacing to the closet Alhaitham pulls the Winter covers out from storage, insulating your body with the thick duvet.

The layers form a barrier protecting you from icy touches as he smooths out the wrinkles.

When humans walk into a garden, their eyes are immediately drawn toward the most beautiful blooms. Watching intently at how the petals of the young blossom unravel, their senses enjoying the heavenly fragrance. It’d only be a matter of seconds before their inevitable greed takes over, and they wish to claim the flower as their own.

In this sense, the gods are no different than the mortals who were crafted in their image. Greedy to pluck the most beautiful blooms from the garden for their mere amusement.

Is that what went on behind the garden wall those born outside the jurisdiction of god couldn’t peer over? Alhaitham wonders if you’d answer this inquiry of his. However, if he wants answers, he’ll have to ask soon.

How should he say the last lines of this script?

Alhaitham ponders. There wasn’t a director to give a cue, no parenthetical to follow. Perhaps he’s entertaining such futile thoughts to distract himself.

With each wheeze of your chest, the itch in his palm grew unbearable. His thumb begged to dig its nail into the smooth skin until scarlet droplets trickled out. However, it never got its chance for soon your ailing fingers occupied the space, interlocking to halt its motion as gold rings clinked together.

“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice babbling with a giggle.

Alhaitham’s cool skin hogged your warmth, trying to permanently sear the temperature into itself.

“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” You craned your neck away with a deep exhale, exposing the vulnerable skin to him.

There’s nothing viler to a vampire than stagnant blood. Blood that no longer runs tastes rotten, cold blood is worst than bile. Your blood still ran warm, he could sense it. This time it was his incisors that itched.

Keen eyes don’t miss the way your nape prickled at the breath that ghosted over it as his lips parted. Your lids gently shut, bracing yourself. The incisors brushed against your exposed jugular, but they couldn’t break through the delicate skin. They wouldn’t. They just wouldn’t.

Like the cowards they were, they retreated. Alhaitham closes his lips, deciding to press a tender kiss on the spot instead. His free hand guides your head back into a comfortable position on the plush pillow.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back.” Your eyes were open again.

“I’m not holding myself back,” he spoke the truth, the whole truth.

You were born with blood, it’s only right that you die with it, Alhaitham concludes.

The ending clause of that contract be damned.

“What a silly vampire.” Your bell-like laughter twinkled in his ears.

Yes, he is. Even after all these centuries, Alhaitham realizes he’s still no better than a fool. A shameless fool. An idiotic hypocrite ready to stray away from the principles he thought he held firm. He’ll accept this verdict, he’ll continue this fool’s errand, if and only if you continue to giggle at his antics.

Outside the window came the dirge of Summer crickets, gentle crips accompanying your fleeting wheezes. Alhaitham shifts the thick comforter up your body, smoothing out the wrinkles as the soft warmth lulls you away.

Your still fingers in between the spaces of his, your head curled within the space between his nape.

Under the moon’s pure rays, lay two bodies atop soft sheets, curled towards each other, the fleeting warmth long dissipating. Atop silk sheets, one body envisions the two buried under cold dirt and not clean comforters with hands somehow still locked together. Deep under the garden wall.

Once the cruel sun creeps into the sky, and the night flees into hiding with her stars, Alhaitham will have to make a call.

He’ll have to speak with the receptionist on the other end, with their bright customer service greeting, and get a legal pronouncement of death. Then soon after that, he’ll have to arrange the transportation of your cold husk. He’ll have to lower you into the ground alone.

However, the morning is still hours away, the moon is still here to lend her quiet sympathies. So tonight, just for tonight humor his little daydream.

Fin~

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arafilez · 3 months

Text

☆ ⼂ PUNCH THE WALL ﹗

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ skz ot8 x any reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤangst, estb. relationship ㅤ warnings arguing, moderate cursing, and anxiety attack ㅤ﹢ㅤ0.2k per member wc ㅤㅤ pt 2 here ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ og request ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤOMG YOU TAKE REQUESTS YESSS OKAY how about skz reaction to their s/o punching the wall (and immediately regret it)in the heat of an argument - anon

◗ ៹ BANG CHAN ›

“Let’s sit down, and talk this out properly,” Chan says getting tired of the argument with each passing second. It is tiring how you are bringing up every small topic just for the sake of arguing.

His eyes widen the moment your fist lands on the wall and cringes at how you instantly wince from the pain. He remains still, watching your breath become more even.

You stare at your palm in shock not realising why you did it anyway. You are not that type of person at all.

“There are better ways of subsiding your anger,” Chan speaks up, slowly taking your hands in his and inspecting your knuckles. “Let’s get you a painkiller,” he whispers, kissing your cheek and you nod looking down.

“I don’t know why I did that,” you stutter out barely and he smiles handing you the tablet and shrugs saying, “Anger is a strong and restless emotion, it is important to learn how to control it. For example, you can tear up some paper into small pieces and make sure all pieces are small.”

“I will work on it,” you smile lightly and he nods encouragingly, “I know you will, darling.”

◗ ៹ LEE KNOW ›

You can’t do this anymore, if he retaliates one more time you might just punch the wall. Minho’s words pass by your ear and you feel a quick blood rush and punch the wall behind you.

The pain takes over immediately as you press your hands to your mouth as a whimper passes out of your throat. You can’t believe you just punched a wall. You never do that.

You hear Minho’s footstep coming towards you and he holds your hand inspecting your knuckles quietly. You keep your head down, ashamed, knowing you have crossed a line while he makes you sit on the couch. Taking out the first aid kit, he slowly dabs an ointment around your bruised knuckles. You watch him carefully and let out a quiet sigh before looking up at him.

“Don’t apologise, you gave yourself enough punishment,” he chuckles and continues, “Things like these happen. Doesn’t mean you are a toxic partner.”

“Thank you,” you reply, a sob choking your throat, “for everything.” You let out a weak smile and he smiles back lightly pecking your lips to cheer you up.

◗ ៹ SEO CHANGBIN ›

The picture frames rattle loudly as your fist lands on the wall and suddenly the room becomes quiet. The tension is thick as you open your fist and your hand rests where you have just punched while Changbin stands in a distance.

You are not this kind of a partner, you never are. Then why did you do that?

“You will beat me in punches in a gym,” Changbin’s voice enters your ear and you look at him mouthing, “Sorry.” He walks towards you and slowly takes your fists in his hand and continues, “Come on that one was funny.”

“Changbin I am so sorry,” you start crying, over sensitive from all your emotions and frustrations and the way you just expressed it. He holds you close and then hugs you till your sobs subside and turn into small whimpers against his neck.

“We all have bad days,” he whispers and continues, “But next time talk to me, don’t keep it to yourself.” You nod rapidly hugging him tighter, the regret now slowly being pushed to the back of your mind at his comfort.

◗ ៹ HWANG HYUNJIN ›

You give one last look to Hyunjin before your fist hits the wall in anger and you pant in rage. Regret takes over your feature almost immediately and you turn around to look Hyunjin frozen in his place and his eyes widening in shock and fear. Your resolve falters in a fraction of a second and you take a step towards Hyunjin.

“Hyun I swear-“ you start only for him to harshly cut you off, “Save it.” You slap your hand over your mouth to stop a sob escaping your mouth. You can’t believe what you did, this is not you.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Hyunjin exclaims and you open your mouth trying to explain yourself but he stops you telling, “Apply some meds and we will talk when you are calmer.” Saying that he leaves the room, making you rethink your decisions again and again.

◗ ៹ HAN JISUNG ›

Jisung’s breath fell short and the room felt like spinning as soon as he sees you punch the wall. He gasps loudly, holding the table near him and his vision starts to blur. He can feel the anxiety attack coming and he can do nothing about it.

You regret as soon as you did it but looking at Jisung the feeling worsens and you run to him. You hold him in your arms and whisper out, “I am so sorry baby.” You walk him slowly to the couch and he slumps down, gripping the couch handle rather strongly and you wince. Slowly unwrapping his fingers you hold them and look him in the eye.

“It’s me and I am sorry,” you whisper and hand him the water bottle as he shakily takes a sip from it. Panting slowly his vision clears and he finally sees your tear-stricken eyes and hugs you as you repeatedly say ‘sorry’ over and over again.

You love him so much, hand you wish he can forgive you which unknowingly maybe he did.

◗ ៹ LEE FELIX ›

Imagine you are minho 😭

“Oh shit,” you curse loudly at the wincing pain in your knuckles as you punch the wall and Felix’s eyes widen but he doesn’t move from his place. You hold your fist and press your lips together but the whimper doesn’t go unnoticed by Felix who grabs a painkiller and a bottle of water.

“I didn’t mean to-“ you start but your boyfriend cuts you off saying, “Sit down.”

“Okay,” you oblige and he hands you the water bottle which you gladly take sipping on it lightly. His eyes scan your feature full of remorse and he rubs his hands over your knees whispering, “Relax, it’s alright.”

“It’s not and you know it,” you choke out and look away unable to look at his kind eyes. “Let’s talk about it, yeah?” he proposes and you nod smiling lightly and his eyes light up at your acceptance.

◗ ៹ KIM SEUNGMIN ›

“Kim Seungmin,” you snarl at him, “I am warning you.” Seungmin’s indifferent sigh angers you to your last extent and you look at him straight in the eyes and punch the wall beside you. You quickly retreat your hands as soon as you do it, shock and remorse washing over your features.

You look at him and see him stare back at you, mouth parted and eyes holding annoyance as he speaks, “So you talk with your hands now.” You shake your head lightly looking away, ashamed of yourself. A scoff of disbelief leaves his mouth and Seungmin pokes the inside of his cheeks eyeing your figure.

“I am sorry,” a sob escapes your throat as you say it out loud and Seungmin’s features soften for a millisecond before he exhales and says, “We will talk when you are ready.” And not punching walls, he thinks but refrains from saying it out loud and leaves the room while you sit on the floor and a stray tear escapes your eye.

What have you done?

◗ ៹ YANG JEONGIN ›

The pent up frustration about everything in life and Jeongin’s childishness gets the best of you and you punch the wall behind you. Your knuckles make a cracking sound at the force. You immediately get back from your trance and stare at Jeongin who is rooted at his place.

“Jeongin I-“ you try, but your voice falters when you see him take a step back, his hands folded against his body protectively. Hurt crosses over your features and you open your mouth to speak and make him comfortable.

“Just fucking listen-“

“No”

“Innie-“

“I said no,” Jeongin yells at you and a pin drop silence falls around the room.

“Don’t come near me, we will talk later,” Jeongin’s voice held remorse and fear and you exhale slowly nodding at him. You watch him leave and regret takes over your features.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤtysm anon for requesting this, i hope you like it, some of them have open endings and unsolved arguments 'cause i suddenly love writing that lmao. tysm for the people who are reading and the blr notes. ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @jeonghanfr ㅤmain mlistㅤ skz listㅤ navi ㅤ add to taglist

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messylustt · 7 months

Text

v.05.10.23 day three: power imbalance ( nsfw )

YOU CAN’T LEAVE — miguel o’hara: miguel is your boss. a cold man who everyone fears, but how does he react when you walk in with a resignation letter?

marks power imbalance. dubcon. blackmailing. possessive!miggy. p in v.

even though your posture showed confidence and provided you with false assurance as you walked down the lavish hall of the company you worked for, your hands still stuck to the letter you were holding. you’re praying your sweat isn’t sinking into the paper.

once you reach mr. o’hara’s office door, you straighten your spine even more and knock. there’s a few moments of silence before you hear the gruff and clearly annoyed voice of your boss. “come in.” you push open the door, careful to de-crinkle the letter as you brush at your skirt.

the moment you stepped inside and shut the door, miguel’s eyes darted up. “finished already?” he leans back in his chair, his gaze flittering across your clothes, your hand readjusting your pencil skirt. “um, no sir, the papers are underway. i just came in to give you this.” you walk over, your heels clicking along the shining floor as you offer the letter to miguel.

miguel grabs it off you, his gaze only then leaving your form to look at the letter. he pauses once he catches the first word, typed out in bold. ‘resignation’. “what’s this?” his voice is still as cold as always, as you paste on a smile. “a resignation letter, sir.”

“why are giving this to me?” he asks to which your brows furrow. “because i mean to…resign.” you thought it was obvious. you had thought he’d be secretly jumping for joy at the prospect of you leaving. with his scolding and hard stares you didn’t think he liked you very much. “again, let me ask, why are you giving me this?” what you didn’t know was that the first feeling miguel got at the thought of you leaving was one of distaste, a sourness in his mouth, along with a pit in his stomach. leaving? you were leaving?

“i’ve loved working here, it’s given me many opportunities — ” you begin in that polite tone of yours but miguel cuts in. “get to the point.” you press your lips together as you hold back from retorting something you’ll regret. “i’ve been offered a job.” you say a little more bluntly. miguel stares at you, that coldness in his eyes actually sending shivers down your spine. “you have a job.” he remarks, his tone still indifferent.

“i don’t think this job is fit for me anymore.” you say. “and what makes you think that you can decide that?” his question has you pausing, mouth opening before closing again. “i’m sorry?”

miguel stands, walking around his desk slowly as you twist your body to face him. “do i have to keep repeating myself, miss?” you slightly shuffle back as subtly as possible as he nears, head tilted down at you. “i don’t understand the question, sir.”

“then what makes you think that you could do well anywhere else?” miguel’s tone has turned a little harsher, as he’s neared. “that’s a bit out of line—“ but miguel cuts you off. “i’m your boss. don’t you want your boss to be honest? because you and i both know that this is the only company you’re fit to work at.”

you stare up at him, really holding back, as you grind your teeth. “you may have forgotten, or plainly not heard me,” you mutter out, more quietly. “but i got offered the job. that means someone is wanting me to be a part of their company.” you say, sparing a look to the side, pretending to be glancing out the window, when in reality you only wanted to get away from his sharp gaze.

but miguel isn’t having that, grabbing your chin, as he redirects your focus back onto him. your breathing hitches a fraction at the now close proximity between you both. “and who is this someone?” he practically sneers. you go to step back, but he tightens his hold on your chin. “no no, come on. it’d be rude not to share with your boss.”

“you aren’t my boss anymore—“

“you’re my employee, miss,” He follows with with your last name. “Even by your little letter you still have a month here.” he speaks lowly. you hate the fact that he’s right. your contract states that you must give notice a month before hand. “but you aren’t leaving.”

“you can’t decide that, sir.” you say evenly, grabbing his wrist, and pulling his hand away. miguel raises his brows, before nodding, looking to the side with a scoff, his tongue poking out against his cheek. “is that right?”

“yes.” you say, finally creating some distance. “you seem unnaturally confident today.” he remarks. “what happened to that timid little thing who brought me coffee? don’t tell me you’re feeling all empowered now since you think you’re leaving?” throughout his words he’s begun to step closer. your backwards steps are matching his, as he nears you again. “because that’s a little pathetic if you feel confident about getting away from here. from me.” your lower back hits his desk, making you jolt a fraction. “is that it? you’re happy about getting away from me?”

“this has nothing to do with you…sir.” you say, trying your best to keep your voice even and professional. “it doesn’t? oh, well that’s good.” he remarks, making your face contort in further confusion. “i wouldn’t want you going off and babbling on about what a terrible boss i am.” he’s neared you, body practically pressed up against yours as you fold your lips behind your teeth. “mr. o’hara — ”

“no, tell me. is it something i did?” usually one sounds apologetic when they say this, but miguel sounds the farthest from it, almost challenging you to speak against him. you stay silent, darting your gaze around and towards the door. miguel watches you closely, before he leans in towards your ear. “or is it something i didn’t do?” his almost intimate tone has your back stiffening. “because you know you can always talk to me.” his overly sweet and almost mocking tone has you gulping. “i want to treat my employees with…care, don’t i?”

“sir, again, this isn’t about you — ” but he again cuts you off. “but it is.” he remarks, his expression away from your line of sight and far too close to your neck. he’s eyeing your skin, down your throat and towards your beating pulse. “let me repeat myself.” his breath hits your neck, as he leans back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you aren’t leaving.”

“…why?” exasperation has finally cracked through your tone, as he leans back to meet your gaze. “why?” he muses. then you’re suddenly being flipped around, body pressed right up against his desk as he bends you over, your chest squished against the expensive glass. your eyes grow wide when you feel his knee nudge your legs apart. a shiver runs down your spine as the cool air hits your closed pussy, the stretch of your skirt gaining miguel’s attention. you try to speak, to protest, but no words seem to surface, especially as miguel’s hands push your pencil skirt farther up, revealing your ass and panties to him.

“because you, have always been so good to me. so diligent. why would i settle for someone else when i have my perfect little assistant right here in front of me.” he continues, humming to himself as he strokes and manhandles your ass and thighs. “you can’t stop me from resigning.” you manage as you try to flip back around, but his grip on you makes it impossible. “i can do is a lot worse then that, querida.”

he then slips his hands into your panties making you squirm as he pushes them to the side. “you really think that you’d do well anywhere else? i take good care of you here, don’t i?” you can hear the zip and clank of his belt as you breath harder. “no other boss would treat you this well.” miguel pulls out his cock, pumping it a few times, but it’s already hard, his arousal having begun the moment you stepped into his office. “treat me well? you treat me horribly.” you hiss back, before you gasp as he pulls your panties up creating a string to rub right over your clit. you grip his desk, knuckles turning lighter.

“no, i’ve treated you far too well, because usually the moment that i want to fuck someone i do. i don’t care if it’s a work setting, hell, i don’t even care if someone sees. i’ve showed you restraint, because believe it or not you’ve actually been a rather helpful assistant to me. wouldn’t wanna scare you off. but you know what?” miguel pulls your panties to the side again, as he then, brushes the head of his cock through your wetness, his breathing heavier. “mierda…” he mutters out, eyes entirely focused on the way your pussy lips are hugging him, as your breathing stutters.

he leans over your body, grabbing your hair and pulling you back into him, a small groan leaving him as your ass pushes into him completely. “no matter what you did you always made me want to touch these pretty pussy lips of yours. and now…” he slips his hand down between you, widening your pussy lips with his fingers as he forces your back to arch even more. “now you’re gonna let me slip my cock inside you, and let me fuck you into my desk. you’re gonna let me do that, right?” his tone is demanding and full of manipulation, no room left for a ‘no’. “feel free to yell, call for help, because if you do just know that that little company who asked for you suddenly won’t be taking any new employees. along with every other business in the state.”

you gasp as he sinks into you, harshly pushing your skirt further up your body as his hips begin to move, thrusting into you. his hands find your back and neck, pushing you further down onto the desk. “widen your legs, querida…come on now…” he breathes, as his cock thrusts in and out of you, giving you no room to adjust to his size, as small hiccups and whimpers leave your lips, your body bouncing along the desk. “that’s it — ” he groans out, thrusting harder into you as your legs shake.

he scoffs as he watches your ass jiggle, slapping right up against his happy trail. his large hand squeezes and plays with a cheek, slapping occasionally just to hear you gasp for more breath. “can’t believe you came in here with that stupid letter.” each word is pronounced roughly with each thrust to match. “you really think that you can just leave? aw, my sweet girl, you’re a little stupid aren’t you?” he’s licking his lower lip, head slightly tilted back as he grips you harder, pulling you back onto his cock as all you can do is babble and murmur, your eyes threatening to roll back.

“who came up to you?” he breathlessly asks, switching the pace slower just to make you squirm. “hm? who offered you the job?” he tugs harshly on your hair when you don’t answer. “m-mr. dalton.” you manage, even though your throat is dry. “mr. dalton.” miguel repeats, as he lets your hair go, spreading your ass cheeks with both his hands, just to see the way his cock is sliding in and out of your dripping wet hole. “from that northside company?” he rhetorically asks. “i guess I’ll have to pay him a little visit then, won’t i?”

miguel leans over you, lips, tongue and teeth trailing your spine up to the back of your neck, as he continues to fuck you into his desk. “i’ll just have to let him know how unavailable you are. yeah…how you just love working for me far too much to leave.” he chuckles darkly into your skin, as your mouth falls open, your orgasm fast approaching. miguel’s hand slips around your thigh, as he rubs at your clit, making your grip tighten, your pants and heavy breathes fogging up his glass desk.

when miguel reached his orgasm, he barely let you finish before he was flipping you around and pushing you to sit on his desk, legs spread. you’ve barely caught your breath before miguel’s lifting one of your legs over his shoulder, your high heel rested on his back as his warm breath hits your sensitive pussy. oh he wanted so much more, as he whispered onto your clit. “tomorrow come in early. and that’s an order.”

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