#just to bring them those things as often as possible
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the delicate line between friends and lovers ft. alhaitham — in which the akademiya’s scribe and the bimarstan’s head nurse develop some serious feelings for each other in between hook ups. evidently, neither of them are very good at being able to communicate these feelings, though.
contains: 14.0k word count ; female reader ; explicit content—not suitable for minors ; fwb to lovers ; mutual pining ; banter and teasing ; angst with happy ending (this one goes out to all the girls who wonder if their fav would choose them: they would!) ; reader is the (very overworked) head nurse at the bimarstan ; mentions of blood and injuries (alhaitham) ; reader has insecurities ; jealousy ; dry humping—and kaveh being a major cockblock unfortunately ; alcohol drinking—4ggravate (minus alhaitham) appearance! ; clothed sex ; unprotected vaginal sex ; no prep ; creampie
the akademiya is well connected in its networks. meaning one thing: gossip travels fast. against his will, alhaitham learns far more about people than he wants to, details upon details that travel even through his soundproof earpieces at times.
today, for example, he learns without meaning to that the akademiya has decreased the previously approved funding for the bimarstan. this piece of information is able to irritate him enough that he almost itches to demand for the title of acting grand sage once more. sumeru, a nation of free healthcare, couldn’t possibly hope to underfund one of the pillars of the citizens and their well-being. not unless someone who’s as incapable and underdeveloped in critical thinking as the last grand sage himself (before alhaitham, of course) was in office.
he walks to the bimarstan, footsteps heavy in the dead quiet of the night as he trudges through the door of the hospital. you’re already there to greet him, eyeing the way the arm under his cloak is tense and curled under the fabric.
“another eremite attack?” you murmur, walking towards an empty room as you gaze at him over your shoulder to follow.
he does so wordlessly, eyeing the tired, overworked, and disarrayed nurses along the hospital as he walks past them.
you’re no different, he studies, watching as you stifle a yawn, taking in the darkened circles under your eyes as he sits on an examination table while you bring out the necessary supplies to clean his wound.
the akademiya—no, sumeru was blooming under his lead. that much he was aware of. you’d said it yourself, too, the first time he came.
oh, it’s you! we’re most grateful for your changes, acting grand sage, you’d smiled at him, they’ve really helped improve things here at the bimarstan.
he wasn’t expecting that. the only reason why he’d stopped at the hospital for care instead of going home was because he’d run out of bandages, nothing more. one look at you had all but changed that, the tilt of your lips as they smile spinning his world on its axis in a completely new direction. you tend to his cuts that night, and even though he’d told himself he wouldn’t, he returns after the next expedition.
and the next. and the next. and then it becomes routine.
for a while, alhaitham told himself he only came to the hospital for his wounds instead of patching himself up after long expeditions in the desert because it was nice to see how the bimarstan ran. it’s important for him to be aware of necessary changes that must be made as acting grand sage—however temporary the job may be, he has every intention of doing it properly. so he studies and assesses the functionality of the hospital and makes decisions accordingly. those things can only happen if he visits frequently.
but then he starts to notice that his feet truly only carry him here on the nights you work. though you work often and late into the night, too. being head nurse requires as much, of course, but he notices all too quickly that he’s begun to memorize your schedule.
slowly but surely, he resigns himself to fate. he comes for you.
“it’s just a light graze,” he mumbles after some time, revealing the small gash on his arm under his cloak. your eyebrows crinkle in concern for a moment before you set off to work, methodically and expertly cleaning away at the dried blood and disinfecting the wound.
he doesn’t talk for a while before he finally says, “you’re short-staffed.”
it’s a question presented as an observation—he has a habit of doing that, of speaking his mind and waiting for an explanation to follow.
you sigh, bandaging his arm as you murmur, “people are quitting. it’s been hectic in here—and the funding cut doesn’t exactly allow for a pay that seems worth the grueling hours.”
you love your job. it’s the first thing alhaitham knows about you. you take it very seriously, scolding anyone, even the acting grand sage, about proper care and healthy habits.
did you stitch these yourself? you’d gasped when you first noticed the scars on his chest, that’s dangerous! do you know the infections you could contract from an improperly tended wound?”
it’s not as amusing now to watch the other nurses listen awkwardly as you scold him. he’s back to being the scribe, no longer tied to the title of sage. the nurses aren’t as alarmed anymore by your lack of formality—although, he’s sure by now, they’re a bit used to it too.
“and i assume you’re not resting properly?” he gives you a knowing look, reaching forward with his free hand and brushing a callused but gentle thumb under your bruised eyebags.
you close your eyes at the fleeting touch, humming before giving him a guilty smile.
“i can’t let things get out of hand here.”
“you should take your own advice,” he snorts, “what was it again? something about proper rest and sleep to ensure a healthy lifestyle?”
“if you’re here to throw my words back in my face, i recall also mentioning getting into less trouble,” you huff, momentarily glaring at his arm before meeting his eyes. “what happened to being more careful?”
“like i said,” he shrugs, hissing slightly when you press on his wound to prove your point, “it’s just a graze.”
you and alhaitham are, no doubt, an unexpected match—if you can call yourselves that, even. it’s a complicated relationship you share, you and the former grand sage turned scribe.
you patch him up late at night one day, and he so chivalrously accompanies you on your walk home after your shift. that’s all it was supposed to be…but, well, things are never as simple as sticking to the original plan.
you invite him in for drinks, he accepts, you clumsily trip on your rug, he catches you swiftly, and somehow, in the mix, both of your lips end up meeting in the most heated kiss you’ve ever shared with someone. clothes are easy enough to shed, and stumbling to your bedroom is hardly complicated, and in a far from ideal turn of events, you sleep with the akademiya’s scribe.
multiple times, in fact.
by now, his visits to the bimarstan to see you are as frequent as your visits to his house to see him. the only difference is that his visits tend to be for medical reasons, and yours are…personal to say the least. it’s, of course, as these arrangements tend to go, one that’s strictly physical.
being physically involved with a patient is scandalous enough, but romantic involvement would be nothing short of unethical. and he’s not a very romantically inclined individual anyway, so not toeing the line of something more is easy enough for the both of you.
still, you’re quite fond of him—he’s funny when he wants to be and a gentleman underneath the blunt responses and straightforward remarks. you like to consider him as a good friend. one who knows your body a bit too well than most friends should, but a good friend nonetheless.
you look at him unimpressed as you finish tending to his wound, scoffing and rolling your eyes as you point out, “you’d call it a graze even if your arm was dangling off the bone.”
that gets a chuckle out of him, his head tilting up as he looks at you. if you weren’t in a hospital with your work attire, this would feel oddly domestic: cleaning tenderly at his wounds as he looks at you softly.
you and alhaitham never toe the line of something more, but you do take steps dangerously close sometimes.
“when do you finish your shift?” he asks, voice a low rumble.
“now,” you grin, giving him a mock glare as you add, “you have me working past the clock.”
“let me walk you home, then.” he’d do it anyway, regardless of whether or not you accept. still, you never turn him away.
“how kind of you,” you say sarcastically—you know better than he does what he means, what he wants, and you can’t exactly say you don’t want it yourself.
“i can be rather giving when i want,” he shrugs.
“oh, yes,” you snort, “quite the giver.” the grin he sends you is nothing short of fond.
the line blurs a little like it’s been drawn in the sand, grains carried away by the wind and leaving the faintest trace of the border you draw. somehow, even though you shouldn’t, you step closer to it, just at the edge.
but it’s never enough to cross it.
“am i?” he muses, “i’m glad you think so.”
“you know, most people would believe you talk too little. but i think you talk too much.”
his cloak falls back in place over his arm as he stands, lips curled in a rare smile—well, rare to anyone other than you, that is. he walks out, and you follow.
it almost feels like you're getting closer and closer to stumbling past the line against your will every day.
——————————
alhaitham knows your home well. well enough that he knows to drop his cloak in the basket you keep for laundry so you can wash away the blood soaked into the fabric for him.
is it normal to do the laundry of your fuck buddy? you’re not even sure. it’s not like you’d ask anyone, anyway.
but it doesn’t matter—not when his lips find yours before you can think about it too much. it’s a slow kiss. he’s good with his mouth in more ways than one—good at kissing, good at pleasing, and he’s even good at talking. he’s a linguist, anyway, so it only makes sense.
“eager,” you murmur in between kisses, nipping at his lips as he shivers. “did you miss me that badly in the desert?”
“of course,” he rasps, gently guiding you to fall back against your bed, his hand cupping the back of your head like you’re fragile as glass, “eremites don’t have as enticing of a touch as you do.”
“maybe if you ask nicely, they’ll be less rough with you,” you wiggle your brows, giggling.
he clicks his teeth, angling your jaw to trail kisses along the slant of it as his hands travel to your hips, gently rubbing the bare skin of your hips under your shirt. you hum appreciatively, closing your eyes and sighing at the soothing feeling of his warm palms seeping heat into your skin. your fingers thread into his hair, tangling into the locks for some sort of means to hold on and ground yourself.
it’s like warm drizzles of syrup, his touch sinking into you as you absorb his sweetness.
“and why would i need that when this is far better?”
every word alhaitham alhaitham says is punctuated with the warmth of his lips pressed into your skin. it’s almost soothing—he feels calming. it doesn’t feel heated, not the passionate kind that kindles something carnal in you.
it feels warm, the soft and gentle kind that makes everything feel a bit lighter. a bit cozier. something more homely in this house of yours.
“mhm,” you hum, your fingers slowly slipping from his hair as they fall to his shoulders, barely holding him in place as your eyes remain shut. it’s soothing, everything about him. enough that you don’t even realize you’re dozing off until he chuckles.
“did i bore you into sleep?” he pecks your cheek.
“no,” you tug your eyelids apart, giving him a sheepish grin, “sorry, you’re just warm.”
“oh yeah?” he grins, amused. he’s climbing off of you, much to your dismay, making a soft whine run past your lips as your hands chase him.
he’s quick to replace the lack of him, though, planting himself beside you as he pulls you into his chest.
cuddling isn’t new for the two of you. usually, it’s a post-coital activity, though—you start to think alhaitham is just as bad at drawing a clear line in the sand as you. he’s gentle as he pulls your covers over you, pressing one more kiss to your head before he sighs and relaxes.
“i’m not tired,” you protest weakly.
“no, you’re not,” he agrees to satisfy you, eyeing your drooping eyes knowingly. “i am, though. it’s been a long trip.”
“right,” you nod, humming. “weak.”
he rolls his eyes, though fondly—you barely make out the action through your half lidded eyes as you glance at him one last look before your eyes force themselves shut. he’s warm, smells like that spicy hint of harra fruit in his cologne, and feels painfully safe when he lets you curl into his strong arm as it wraps around you.
normal people don’t cuddle when they’re just fucking like this—you and alhaitham are anything but normal. it’s a mutual sort of agreement, though. you allow the small domestic tendencies to slip past the line, only to let the shore wash it away from the sand.
it never stays for long, this feeling of intimacy. real intimacy, the kind that’s far more personal than seeing each other nude and feeling each other at your rawest. the kind where you both fall asleep beside each other, tangled, safe, warm, trusted.
but you’re just friends. you think. you can’t afford to be anything more—alhaitham isn’t the sort of man to grant you something like that. you’re sure of that. he’s kind, good natured, even. but there’s not one romantically inclined bone in his body—you’ve seen it yourself.
he’s rejected one too many brave women with her heart on her sleeve. never cruelly, but always definitively.
sleep doesn’t let you think about it all for too long. you resign yourself to a peaceful slumber beside him, breath slowly evening out as he rubs the small of your back.
and, when morning comes and you awaken, you don’t think about it for too long then, either. because he’s gone. because, of course, he wouldn’t stay—not when this is physical and nothing more.
you’re not disappointed, you think. you’re aware of the nature of things. and he’s a gentleman, as always, leaving you a note on your bedside.
i had to file some reports from my expedition. i believe i’ll be needing my cloak back.
you chuckle, shaking your head. it’s an invitation—bring me my cloak, and we’ll finish what we started.
it’s how things are with you and alhaitham. you do his laundry with yours, he walks you home and forces you to rest, and sometimes, you happen to partake in some debauchery in the process. there’s nothing wrong with it.
and even if your toes dance along the edge of the line, they always drag along to draw it sharper in the sand.
——————————
coming to alhaitham’s house seems like second nature these days. he comes to you at night, and you come to him in the afternoon of your day off—luck would have it that yours happens to coincide with his. you knock three times and he opens as soon as your knuckles pull away from the cool surface of his door. it’s like he expects you, maybe even waits for you.
you step in and let the door close behind you, grinning when he steps closer and cages you against the tight corner that is his front entrance.
“i brought over your cloak,” you hold up the cloth, gesturing for him to move so you can put it on him. he looks at you incredulously, like you’re out of your mind.
“why would i put it on now?” he asks in confusion.
you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow, “you always wear one?”
“and why would i dress when we’ll only be undressing in a short moment?” he quirks his own brow like it’s obvious—which, to be fair, alhaitham is not exactly wrong. but it doesn’t make you any less flustered when he says it.
“you’re shameless,” you huff, looking away in embarrassment. he chuckles lowly, leaning down and trailing his nose along your collarbone, breathing in your perfume.
“i think i’m more practical, is all,” he murmurs into your skin. you sigh, goosebumps traveling across your body at the fan of his breath against you.
“if only people knew how unstiff the akademiya’s scribe can truly be,” you grin, finger tracing the sliver of skin showing from his chest window. “did you know i overheard a few patients discuss how bad you are at conversing?”
“i don’t get paid to partake in small talk,” he says, voice a low vibration as he shivers at your touch. “i have things to finish when i’m on the clock apart from socializing.”
“what, you’re that concerned when you have your lovely pay raise? i’m sure you could afford a few minutes,” you tease, making him roll his eyes.
alhaitham certainly won’t admit it, but he finds a good amount of amusement from your quips—the small grin on his usually downturned lips tells you as much.
“if you want me to spend my earnings on you, there are better ways to ask,” he shoots light-heartedly.
“you’d accuse me of such shallow schemes?” you pout. “do you think me to be after your mora?”
his answer is instantaneous, coming in the form of a delicate kiss pressed to your lips as his hands grab your hips. your arms have a habit of their own, always wrapping around his neck before you can even comprehend the action, and just like always, you both end up a tangled pile of limbs that can’t even make it past the doorway, let alone the rest of the house.
you like it this way, perhaps even love it. something about him being unable to wait the time it takes to walk to his room fills you up with a sense of glee.
“being the scribe is a much simpler job than sage,” he mumbles between kisses, “there happens to be much more time for other things.”
“things like taking the head nurse against the door of your home?”
“perhaps,” he smiles with a chuckle.
who would’ve thought alhaitham could smile so painfully charming? just a few weeks ago, you had never seen him smile before at all, willing to bet that he’d never smiled a day after stepping into adulthood with that seriousness he holds so dearly.
“i don’t have much time,” you hum in between kisses, fingers fiddling with the short hair at the nape of his neck.
“we’ll make do, i’m sure,” he says through a breathy groan, already semi-hard as your thigh slots between his legs, rubbing against the forming tent in his pants.
your head tilts up as his head buries into your neck, lips branding searing kisses into your skin. you wonder if this is what it feels like to be his, to be stamped with his affections one kiss at a time until no one else could hope to have you. your eyes flutter shut, sighing as he sucks attentively to your sweet spot.
“don’t leave marks,” you scold, “i can’t show up to the bimarstan looking so scandalous.”
you’ve felt his lips against your skin enough times that you can tell them by heart. you don’t have to look to know they’re pouting against your neck—you can feel it against your skin. you giggle, cupping the back of his head as your fingers delicately thread through his hair.
“i’m meant to hold back then?” he grumbles. it’s almost petulant, but he still softens the nipping against your skin, careful to leave no evidence of his existence against you, however disgruntled he might be.
“don’t be so whiny,” you laugh. archons must have it out for you, though, because as soon as you say that, his hardened cock brushes against your crotch, making you whine at the friction. it’s something, but it’s hardly anything at all—the separation from the fabric makes everything not nearly enough.
he seems to know it, too, because he pulls away, eyeing you with a certain gleam in his eyes that looks like a cross between smug and amused.
“i’ll try,” he says smugly. you glare, but you’re cut off by the brush of his cock against that sensitive spot between your thighs once more, his hips grinding against you as you fall slack against the door. you can feel him rub against your clit, sending shockwaves along your spine as your back arches and you breathlessly moan his name.
at first, he only does it to tease you, but after the first few rolls of his hips, it’s evident he can’t bring himself to stop. it’s not enough, not for either of you. the ache settling between your legs can’t be quelled with a few simple rolls of his hips with fabric separating you both from each other. but alhaitham’s sense of control seems to wash away with the tidal waves of pleasure, each thrust of his hips brushing his cock against your heat and leaving him panting into your shoulder.
“m-more,” you plead, grabbing at his cape and fisting the material as you hold onto him tightly, “i need more—please.”
alhaitham, for all his composure and self-preservation, is simple to take apart when his throbbing cock is pressed against your cunt, rubbing against the length and building the pressure he so desperately needs.
he doesn’t even seem to hear you, hot breath fanning against the crook of your neck as he buries his head and groans, hips sloppy and rough as they rut into you. you can feel the outline of his cock clearly even through his pants and yours, hot and undoubtedly hard. the bulge in his pants brushes against your clit through yours—and even if it’s nowhere close to feeling him inside of you, you can feel yourself just about to break.
“sorry,” he gasps, “sorry—c-can’t stop. i-i’m c-close. so close.”
the last part comes out like a plead. it’s like he’s begging you to free him of this torment, like he needs you to make him fall over the edge because he can’t bring himself there. you think that might be the case, so you wrap your fingers around his hair and tug.
he moans—maybe if you were feeling teasing, you’d call it a whine and watch his cheeks flush as he scowls. but there’s no chance for that. not when you’re both so close, so achingly close that you can just make out the twitch of his cock in his pants.
and then the doorknob twists.
a series of muffled curses can be heard through the other side of the door, and you both pause—rigid, tense, stiffly alert as your eyes widen. his head perks up from its place in your neck, staring at the doorknob in equal parts rage and equal parts confusion, like he blames it for cutting you both short of a much-needed, much-wanted orgasm.
“oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” you hear a voice groan exasperatedly through the door, “again?”
you’re completely lost. who could be trying to enter alhaitham’s house at this hour?
the only hope you have for answers is, of course, alhaitham—one look at the recognition and irritation on his face, and you can piece together that it’s certainly no stranger. alhaitham, if his cold glare could freeze anything where it stands, could potentially risk turning sumeru into the next snezhnaya. his eyes are hardened, and his jaw is clenched as he breathes out a heavy sigh through his nose.
“and you’re kidding me,” he mutters bitterly. “now?”
“hey! i know you’re home! open this door and stop pretending like you can’t hear me,” the voice demands, tapping on the door with more conviction than the last time.
you furrow your eyebrows and look at him expectantly; an explanation demanded through the crinkles of your forehead as you look at him in confusion. he pulls away, jaw still tight as he adjusts himself in his pants, trying his best to hide the still painful erection he sports.
“my roommate,” he says quietly. deadly.
you almost feel bad for the poor soul that must be waiting on the other side of the door, unaware of the pure wrath he must be about to face judging by the look on alhaitham’s face.
you hear the voice again, “ugh! you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? you—”
“calm down,” alhaitham calls, unimpressed and unamused as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. he seems to hold it for a moment like he’s fighting the tension in his body, before he slumps and lets out another sigh. this time, it’s much more defeated as he gives you an apologetic look when his eyes open.
you both adjust your appearances, erasing any trace of debauchery before you step aside and let him approach the door.
the swing of the door opening is a rather aggressive one, and alhaitham stands taller and straighter than you’ve ever seen him, like he’s trying to tower over the figure that enters the house.
you recognize him immediately.
“oh!” you gasp in awe, “you’re that architect! the one who designed the palace of alcazarzaray!”
both men look equally as haunted by your statement. alhaitham’s eye all but twitches as he takes in the breathless admiration in your voice—you’re no doubt praising kaveh’s work. as for the latter…well, he looks like he might just about launch himself into the blade of an eremite willingly the first chance he gets.
“wh-who are you?” kaveh demands, “and what are you doing here?”
“she’s obviously a guest of mine,” alhaitham shoots coolly, tone as condescending as ever. “have you lost all manners? that’s no way to greet a guest.”
“what did you say to me? i want to hear nothing of the sort from you—god knows your temper isn’t one to speak on my manners.”
kaveh turns to you, taking one better look at you, squinting as he thinks for a moment before realization flashes across his features. he seems to recognize you—though most people in sumeru do know you quite well. the nurses at the bimarstan are limited, these days.
“ah! you’re the head nurse from the bimarstan! you looked at my wrist,” he recalls.
you smile, nodding as you gesture at his hand and ask kindly, “is it better now? i do hope it’s not as sore anymore. did you apply heat as i suggested? and i hope you’re taking ample rest in between sketches—architects are very prone to sore wrists as is, you know.”
alhaitham rolls his eyes at your lecture, grumbling, “as if he would follow anyone’s advice. he’s far too stubborn.”
“i’ll have you know that i followed her advice quite closely,” kaveh says pointedly. he turns to you, voice much softer as he smiles and adds, “and my wrist is much better, thank you.”
“of course,” you nod. and then you pause, staring between the two unsurely as you falter and ask, “but…i wasn’t aware you two were friends. alhaitham tells me you’re his roommate—he’s never mentioned you before today, though.”
they both glare at each other through the corners of their eyes. something tells you maybe friends was a bit of an exaggerated term. alhaitham makes no moves to speak, crossing his arms and staring expectantly at kaveh—the blonde scoffs, shaking his head with a scowl.
“friends…is a generous word. we’re roommates,” he nods in confirmation, “i’ve…ran into some trouble for the time being, so i’m staying here for a bit. won’t be much long, however. i need a space less…suffocating.”
“and how well is that plan faring for you?” alhaitham’s words seem to poke at kaveh, riling the blonde up further as you watch the scene before you awkwardly.
“you—” but before kaveh can finish whatever retaliation was on the cusp of his tongue, he pauses. it’s like all at once, the situation hits him before he’s staring between the two of you, instead. “hang on a moment. how do the both of you know each other? i didn’t know alhaitham was acquainted enough with the head nurse for her to pay a visit.”
“well,” you start, trailing off as you cough lightly, tensing as the question throws you off guard. “umm…alhaitham visits the bimarstan sometimes after his trips to the desert. so…”
so what? how would that explain your visit to his home? it’s not as though you become friendly with all your patients and drop them a visit—in fact, alhaitham is the only one you’ve ever done that for. and of course, it’s not just a visit that you’re doing here. but kaveh doesn’t need to know that.
that would be quite the scandal—getting so intimate with a regular patient. and apart from that, you and alhaitham aren’t exactly in an ideal situation. what would you tell kaveh? that you come over just to hook up? it’s not exactly a rare occurrence to have a beneficial relationship with someone like this, but still…admitting it like that is a bit too shameless for your liking.
and then there’s a much more complicated, much less easy-to-tackle problem, too. you’re not even sure if you can confidently say you don’t have feelings for the scribe. that’s not something you were counting on, ever. saying you only partake in intimate activities with no strings attached might just hit you too hard in the gut, even if it’s not exactly a lie. but admitting the words out loud isn’t something you’re prepared to do.
almost like he senses your turmoil, alhaitham steps in, bless his soul. he almost looks a bit conflicted, studying you carefully. you don’t have time to dwell on it, though, before he speaks.
“so she came to check on a wound she patched up,” he finishes for you, quick and easy and confident enough in his words that it makes up for your nerves. he quicks a fleeting glance at you before raising an eyebrow to kaveh. “i left in a hurry and didn’t really let her properly tend to it last time. not that it’s your business, of course. i’m perfectly within my rights to bring guests over to my house.”
“be careful,” kaveh glowers, “anymore attitude, and you’ll risk showing your guests your true colors if you’re not cautious. you wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on the same person who tends to your wounds, do you? that would be fatal.”
“you two are quite the duo,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “it seems alhaitham has finally met his match verbally. you truly don’t let him have the last say.”
alhaitham almost looks offended, looking at you in disbelief. “i am not outmatched by his—”
“if it’s not too much trouble,” kaveh laughs nervously, cutting alhaitham off with a sharp look, “could you keep this…uh arrangement of ours a secret? i don’t really want this getting around and such.”
“my lips are sealed,” you promise. kaveh perks up, relief sagging into his shoulders at that before he nods, giving you a friendly smile as he waves at you.
“i’ll be off to finish a project, then. nice seeing you.”
as soon as he walks away and you’re certain the door to his room shuts, you let out a soft breath of relief.
“that was close,” you whisper, “he could’ve figured it out.”
“right,” alhaitham says vaguely. he doesn’t say much else, arms still crossed as he stands there and looks at you—something about the way alhaitham stares at you is too uncomfortable for your liking.
not because he looks at you weirdly or even inappropriately, but because it almost feels like he can pick apart every thought in your head just by his gaze alone.
you shuffle on your feet before you give him a tight smile.
“i should go—the patients are never-ending these days,” you chuckle nervously.
“make sure you don’t overwork yourself,” he nods.
you linger for a moment. you’re not sure why. it’s not as though you can expect him to give you a goodbye kiss—that would be preposterous. and far too wishful.
so instead, you give him a small wave before turning towards the door—but he stops you before you can reach for the door handle, pulling you flush against him, your back to his chest.
“will you come back tonight?” he whispers, voice low and husky as he presses his still-hard crotch against you. you shiver as he nips at your skin to get his point across.
“what about kaveh?” you ask softly, biting your lip, unsure. the little voice in your head screams, who cares about kaveh?
“he’ll be dead asleep,” he snorts, “last night was the third all-nighter he pulled. there’s no chance he’ll make it past seven pm today.”
“you’re insatiable,” you tease, shaking your head as you snort. “do you know that?”
“i’ve never had a decline on your end,” he shoots back.
“i have a shift later tonight,” you say apologetically, sighing as you think about the extra hours you’ll have to put in soon, “there aren’t enough people tonight without me.”
“you should really speak to someone about this funding cut,” he frowns, slumping against you, “it’s getting out of hand.”
“no one listens.” your voice is so defeated, so uncharacteristically tired. you’re sure he notices it in a heartbeat—you notice it yourself. “but i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“sure,” is all he says.
hesitantly, you pull away. his hands leave your hips reluctantly, too, like they’re most comfortable when they have you to house them. but neither of you say anything, simply nodding at each other as you look at him over your shoulder and exit through the door.
the footsteps down his steps and away from his home are the heaviest ones you’ve taken all week.
you decide you hate the sand. and that stupid line you both seem to have drawn.
——————————
it takes two failed attempts at fucking alhaitham to realize you’re not strictly only after the physical pleasure he brings.
the first time, you weren’t even disappointed you didn’t get that far. it was only a disappointment that he was gone when you woke, and you realize it’s because the absence of him is why you’re even let down in the first place. the second time, you’re unhappy because you have to keep the nature of your relationship a secret—that’s a more complex problem.
it’s secret because it has to be, because of how lewd it is by nature and how partially unprofessional it is. but you decide you also hate it to be a secret. no one knows that you see alhaitham bare and at his most vulnerable, and you can’t handle that anymore. especially when you watch a nurse flirt so poorly with him right before your eyes.
“oh, it’s you, acting grand sage,” she giggles, “what can i do for you today?”
“i’ve actually returned to my previous position as scribe,” he corrects, entirely unaffected.
“oh, is that so?” she gasps—you know it’s all for show. everyone is aware of his stepping down. “well, i, for one, think it’s a shame. you were so capable as a leader.”
alhaitham doesn’t like leading. for all he claims it’s because it’s too much trouble and far more work than he appreciates, you know that it’s also because the easiest way to never be swayed by power is to stay far away from it. he keeps himself grounded this way. he uses his smarts for only what’s necessary and only enough to quell his thirst for knowledge and never anything more. his principles are admirable.
and should the next grand sage also abuse such power like the last, he’ll step up from his humble position as scribe and fix the problem again—because that’s what he knows to do best. use his genius to solve issues as they arise, not control the situation entirely.
of course, she wouldn’t know that. she doesn’t know anything about him.
you fight back the roll of your eyes with the last shreds of self-preservation you have left.
“the position wasn’t really for me,” he says plainly. “any idea where the head nurse might be? i have some business to discuss with her.”
it shouldn’t satisfy you as much as it does when she deflates at at his dismissal. but does—enough that you saunter up with a grin on your lips as you greet the two.
“why hello. what business does the scribe have with little old me?” you hum. the nurse becomes background noise when your eyes meet his teal ones, staring at the small fleck of amber in his pupils while his piercing gaze rakes over your face as if to study you.
you feel oddly seen under his stare—he’s seen you stripped and bare, at your most vulnerable under him. but somehow, you’ve never thought about it much in the moment like now. right now, he sees you with a clear mind, without the clouding haze of lust to fog his mind. right now, he can see you for every flaw and every imperfection, so up close. he can notice the way your fingers fiddle with themselves to calm your nerves. he can catch every nervous shuffle on your heels as you fight the urge to lean into him from the proximity.
finally, you break out of your trance when the nurse clears her throat and mumbles, “i’ll uh..i’ll be off, then.”
he blinks at the same time as you, shaking his head slightly to bring himself back to the present as he clears his throat.
“can we speak somewhere more private?” he asks quietly. you don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad. but you nod nonetheless, leading him to an empty room as he follows.
it’s a long, painstakingly dreadful walk. your mind is filled with too many possible scenarios that it’s a miracle your brain is even functioning properly. it should short circuit. what if he wants to end your arrangement? what if he’s aware of your slowly shifting feelings (if you can even call them that)? what if he’s found someone he’s interested in? what if his roommate has pieced together something, and now he needs to come up with a cover?
the possibilities are endless, and they plague your mind so heavily that your lip is chewed raw by the time you enter the room and shut it behind him as he follows you in.
“you wanted to talk?” you ask hesitantly.
he doesn’t say anything—the only thing he does is press a folded piece of paper in your hands as you stare at him, confused.
“open it,” he insists.
so you do. and reading over it makes you pause as you glance up at him in disbelief. the bimarstan funding—more than doubled.
“what?” you breathe, in absolute awe, “how…how is this possible?”
“i’ve pulled a few strings,” he says plainly, shrugging. as always, he brushes off his actions as though he hasn’t just changed your entire job for the better. “it’s a nice perk of being an ex-sage.”
“you’ve used corruption just to help me?” your words are a playful jab—but there’s still an underlying question that you really do mean to ask. why go to such lengths for me?
“it’s hardly corruption,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. the dust of red over the tips of his ears is the only thing that gives away the slightly flustered part of him, “i had a few favors owed to me, and the conditions here play an important role to everyone in sumeru. it was a simple correction to their terrible decision-making skills.”
“oh, haitham,” you chuckle. this time, the nickname really does make him flush more obviously, his eyes darting away to look off to the side as he clears his throat again.
“well, that’s all,” he says stiffly, “i have to go home and…and make dinner. kaveh is of no help.”
“sure,” you beam, looking at him knowingly. you pause for a moment, contemplating before you cave and add, “and thank you. really.”
“it’s really nothing to look into,” he says awkwardly, “hopefully, now you can work fewer hours.”
“the other nurses will also really appreciate it,” you say softly, “i’ll be sure to let them know—they’ll really have the hots for you this time,” you snort, making an indirect reference to earlier. he shivers, like the thought leaves him unnerved.
“that one nurse of yours hasn’t left me alone since i stepped up as grand sage for that short while,” he grumbles, making you snort at the troubled look on his face. it shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does to see him so disgusted by the affections of someone else, but you’re only human. “doesn’t take a genius to figure out why.”
“oh c’mon, she’s sweet,” you tease. now that you know he’s uninterested, it’s fun to mess with him and get under his skin, giggling as you reach over and poke at his arm.
“perhaps,” he shrugs, “but not very good at keeping her emotions in check. i’ve known her since my student days—i don’t think i could last one day with her lack of…composure.”
“what, you’re too above emotions?” you ask amused, “i would disagree. you’re a rather grumpy man, you know.”
“am i?” he fights back a grin, “i hardly noticed.”
“without your morning coffee, yes,” you quip.
he laughs, shaking his head as he stares at you with something that looks oddly close to fondness in his eyes before he murmurs, “i do really need to make dinner. kaveh will truly whine my ear off if i don’t tonight.”
“have fun,” you pinch his cheek. he rolls his eyes, and with that, he nods to you and leaves, swiftly walking away and leaving you to yourself in the empty room with the slip of paper in your hands, a lovesick smile still on your face.
you don’t even know where the line starts or where it ends anymore. all you know is that you’ve undoubtedly crossed it all on your own—and it might be the end of you, truly.
——————————
it takes one nice gesture from alhaitham to make you realize you’ve fallen hopelessly hard for him. before, every small action of intimacy was always just the two of you being friends, amicable and good-natured in between sex.
now, you’re not sure you could spend a single minute next to him without wondering what it would feel like to do those things as a couple.
sometimes, after sex, alhaitham likes to read. because it’s hard for him to sleep, and he doesn’t want to disturb you from your much-needed rest after a long day at the hospital. you don’t realize how reliant you’ve become on the sound of his pages flipping until you lay in bed alone, tossing and turning under your sheets as you try your hardest to sleep.
you can’t. not when all you think about is him. him, him, him. he’s all your mind drifts to nowadays.
but you know alhaitham—better than a lot of people, in fact, seeing as you get to see parts of him that are otherwise… off-limits. being in a relationship is the last thing he wants, especially with you. otherwise, he’d have told you by now. you’re scared of a lot of things, scared to speak your mind, and tend to overthink too much for your own good.
but alhaitham? he’s blunt and to the point. if he’d wanted something more with you, if the line had blurred and blurred for him until it risked being nonexistent like it did for you, he’d have said something. but he hasn’t—and neither can you.
because you know as soon as you do, it’ll be over. the kind gestures, the gentle touches, the heated kisses, the nightly visits, all of it. gone with the wind as it blows the line in the sand away for good—not because he wants to cross it, but because it simply doesn’t need to exist anymore if he never speaks to you again.
alhaitham is not a romantically inclined guy. he’s good-looking enough that not just a handful of girls have tried their hand at confessing to him, and he’s always turned them down instantly. you’ve seen it, heard about it, know it to be true. and apart from that, are you both even that compatible?
sure, you get along great as is, but a relationship is much deeper than that. you’ve always appreciated how honest he was, how straightforward he put things. but relationships come with a lot more vulnerability and emotions than you’ve ever shown him. his bluntness will be too easy to mistake for casual cruelty when you’re in over your head. he’s quiet; he doesn’t appreciate too much interaction—would he even enjoy going on dates? what if you insisted on an evening out, and all he wanted to do was stay in and read? would he want to do all that stuff? everything you want seems like it would be something of a chore for him, something that makes him see you as a chore.
he even said it himself the other day, calling that nurse too emotional for his liking. sure, it was an off-handed comment, but you’re one emotional day away from potentially being too much for him too. you couldn’t handle that. not when you like him so, so much. not when you want him so bad, you couldn’t handle him not wanting you just as badly.
would he even want you that badly? logic tells you no—and logic is at the forefront of his mind at all times. your emotionally charged outlook on life would be a bleeding mess of color in his neutral, logically categorized approach.
you’d be dooming yourself to loving a man who would hardly know what to do with your affections.
so you do the only sound solution to this predicament of yours—you end things before he can do it himself. it’s inevitable, of course. whether it’s in a few weeks or months, eventually, alhaitham will grow bored of your casual fling. and he’ll end things, completely fine and normal while you fall apart at the seams. the best thing you can do for yourself is let things end on your own terms, and early on, too, before the feelings fester into something all too serious.
it’s not as though you love him yet—things are still early on enough to make sense of them.
or is it? some part of your mind asks viciously, are you sure you don’t love him?
you push away the thought as quickly as it pops into your head. rolling your shoulders back, you straighten your posture, taking a deep breath before you knock on his door.
he opens it instantly, smiling that small, ghost of a smile of his. you falter immediately.
“hey,” he hums, swinging his door wider, “come in.”
“no, that’s okay,” you say stiffly, not meeting his eyes, “i…can’t today.”
“oh.” you hate that you can hear the frown in his voice and practically see the confused crinkle of his eyebrows. “did you want to talk about something, then?”
yes, you want to say. there’s a lot i want to talk about.
there’s a lot you should talk about—and if you were keen on discussing this like an adult, you would lay it all out on the table.
instead, you blurt out, “i think we should stop.”
he eyes you carefully, raising a questioning brow as he asks, “stop what?”
“this,” you point between the two of you, “whatever…whatever this is we’re doing.”
and just as you expected, his face is blank, so neutral and so hard to read you want to scream at him. yell at him for making you want him so bad when you can’t even tell if he’s even a fraction as crazy as you. does he want you? he certainly treats you well sometimes, but maybe that’s just because you get his dick wet and stitch up a few wounds here and there for him. does he actually even toss and turn and stay up thinking about you the way you think about him?
the answer is probably no. you don’t even want to find out if you’re right or not. but he’s never made you believe he has, so you don’t entirely think you’re wrong in your assumptions.
“and what are we doing?” he must be playing dumb, you think.
“hooking up,” you hiss, “having sex. fucking. whatever you want to call it, alhaitham. we have to end it. now.”
“and what brought this on?” he crosses his arms.
you want to ask him why he’s being so cruel, so intent on keeping you when you clearly can’t stay, when there are so many women who would throw themselves at him for a chance to get in bed with him if a physical partner is what he’s so hellbent on keeping. but you can’t be that for him any longer, not when your emotions are tired of being a jumbled mess that slowly but surely eat away at your decaying soul.
“we…we’re just…it’s not—we just have to, okay? i don’t appreciate you treating me like i’m easy.”
“wha—when have i ever treated you as such?” he looks at you bewildered, getting defensive.
“that’s not what i meant,” you pinch your nose, groaning as you try to process the words you want to say in your spinning head. everything is too much—the way he’s close, the way your body feels aflame from just standing near him, the way your eyes are involuntarily misting over. “this…this is just an easy arrangement, that’s all. for both of us. but i don’t want to be someone’s quick and easy hook-up for the sake of convenience. i need…i need something more from someone, so we should stop while we can so i can find myself that.”
there’s a minimal twitch of his jaw as he clenches and unclenches it, nodding slowly.
“you want something more, is that it?”
“w-well, yes—but that’s not what i entirely meant, so don’t read into it—”
“so how would ending this get you that, then?” he challenges. you hate that he makes you feel stupid, that he looks at you like you’re not thinking when that’s all you’ve been doing these last few…archons know how long. he’s plagued your mind for so much time you can’t even pinpoint for how long.
“i want something more, but not from you,” you spit, slamming your hands to slap against your thighs in frustration, “that’s obviously why i’m ending it! must you always make everything difficult?”
he doesn’t speak, silently stunned a bit at your outburst. so you take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down before you collect your thoughts better.
“i just…i’m sorry, okay? i didn’t mean to yell at you like this is your fault. i…i can’t say i can get into bed with you anymore without wanting us to actually mean something to each other, and i know that’s not what you want—”
“who said that’s not what i want?” he interrupts, looking at you with the first hints of emotions all day. there’s a small etch of frustration building in the twitch of his brows as he continues, “you’ve just decided for me how i feel, and that’s a bit unfair, don’t you think?”
“you’ve never said anything about how you feel,” you shoot back.
“well, neither have you, but that doesn’t mean—”
“i may not have said it, but you’re telling me you never noticed? i do your laundry for you, for crying out loud, alhaitham! and you’ve never so much as dropped a hint!”
“i see,” he nods slowly, going back to the blank slate that is his face. still so infuriatingly neutral and unbothered by it all that you can’t help but lose it a little.
how can he be so unbothered? how can he be so calm and collected when you feel like you might need to check yourself into the bimarstan yourself from the stress of it all? you’ve spent weeks, months in each other’s beds. familiarized yourselves with every part of each other’s bodies. he knows about that birthmark no one else sees, and you trace that mole on his left pec every night before you sleep. you’ve slowly but surely been dying to cross the threshold of just friends (with a few perks, of course), and here he is, nodding along as you tell him you want him, want more of him.
and he’s got nothing to say. because, for some reason, after months of feeling you, spending nights and days tucked away against you, he doesn’t seem to feel the same, so he doesn’t have much to offer you. how can he be so unbothered by your presence after months with you? is it really that easy not to be affected by you?
some part of you lets go of the hold on your control as you snap, “and this is why we can’t have anything more.”
“why’s that?” he tilts his head, voice an uncharacteristic edge to it, “enlighten me.”
“because…because…because you’re you!”
finally, a flash of hurt crosses his face, making itself home in his eyes and forehead as it crinkles at your words. he studies you, quiet. unnervingly quiet that you almost wonder if you’re just deaf.
“are you trying to say there’s something wrong with me?” he presses, looking so lost that you almost feel guilty.
not as much as you feel like you’re about to cry, though.
“yes,” you say without thinking—and the way hurt settles into his eyes more makes you scramble to reword things so you don’t sound like a total jerk, “i mean no! i mean…i mean you’re just you, and you and i won’t mix.”
“we won’t mix,” he repeats, blinking. “interesting—”
you can’t stop yourself from going on the tangent now that you’ve begun, spilling your every thought one by one as you cut him off, “you’re so quiet, and it’s unnerving, you know? you never speak a single thought on your mind, you’d rather just read than talk about your day. and everything you say is so painfully to the point—would it kill you to soften the blow sometimes? people don’t always need the cold, hard truth, okay? sometimes, saying what someone wants to hear can make all the difference. and…and…i don’t know, okay? i need someone who can work with my emotions without applying logic to everything, and that’s not you so…so we have to end things because it’s not fair to either of us. i want it to actually mean something with someone when i’m with them, and you don’t want someone to taint everything with their fragile feelings, so we need to go our separate ways. okay?”
you’re practically panting when you’re done speaking, and alhaitham is just standing, thinking, processing everything you’ve said in that painfully complex head of his.
finally, he breaks the silence and says, “i didn’t know so many things about me bothered you.”
“they didn’t,” you sigh, “not until recently. i guess…i guess it just hit me how difficult it would be to get along in a proper relationship.”
“you know that because what? you think it?”
“i know it because i’m actually looking at things realistically,” you say exasperatedly, “just because we had sex for a few months doesn’t automatically mean we’re a compatible pair.”
“we haven’t really gotten to know much outside of sex to decide that,” he shakes his head, “i’m not understanding how you can so easily dismiss these feelings by deciding it won’t work—”
“look, alhaitham,” you cut him off, voice so uncharacteristically small, he pauses to look at you in shock, “i’ve been slowly losing it for weeks, okay? the last thing i need is for you to make things difficult for me. you’re a good guy, and i really, really wish things were different, but i just need more than what you can give me without completely changing yourself. neither of us should have to compromise anything about ourselves for things to work.”
“you don’t know if i’d be willing to give you what you need or not,” he says quietly, “maybe i wouldn’t be changing a thing.”
“then what about that girl?” you scoff, “the one you said was too emotional for you to handle? you think i’m just being crazy? you said it yourself, so what else should i believe?”
“her? she’s different—”
“why? because she’s not me? because she doesn’t let you in her bed? you’ll find my emotions just as burdensome as hers one day, and then what? we fall back on sex to keep the spark alive?”
something about him is defeated. shoulders slumped, eyes dim, and arms uncrossing to lay limply at his sides. he takes a deep breath before nodding, looking at you so intensely you almost feel frozen in place.
“okay,” he whispers, “if this is what you want. that’s fine.”
his door closes, and your first tear slips.
——————————
nine days. that’s how long it’s been without alhaitham. your mind tells you this is for the best, but your heart is practically on its knees, begging you to reconsider.
a part of you wonders if you were being unfair like he said, judging him before you could properly give him a chance. the other part of you thinks it’s important not to let attachment cloud your better judgment. alhaitham is a good man; there’s no doubt about it.
but is he a man good for you? that part is a difficult question to answer. protecting your heart seems like the safest option. still, you can’t help but miss him horrifically often. it doesn’t hit you how badly you’ve fallen for him until you don’t see him anymore. no more late nights at your place, no more afternoons at his, and no more routine bimarstan visits.
your life has at least gotten a bit easier, though—more funding means more people to hire, and more people to hire means fewer grueling hours for you. though, when you really think about it, you owe this small win to the exact man who’s been plaguing your thoughts.
you intend to drink your woes away, but it seems even in the tavern, you can’t escape him—well, not exactly him, but his roommate. but kaveh still reminds you of alhaitham, so the cleared head you hoped for is out of the question for the night.
the thing about kaveh, though, is that he’s loud. painfully so, and especially when he’s drunk. you could hear him from the other end of teyvat, you think—it’s hard to ignore him even if you want to.
“he’s been insufferable lately,” kaveh huffs, “worse than usual. that awful temper of his needs to really get a check because i’m not sure how much more i can take.”
you didn’t know kaveh was friends with the general mahamatra—seeing cyno loosened up with a deck of tcg cards was not on your list of expectations for the night, but you can’t help but listen in when he adds, “his last few reports to me from his investigations were not up to his…usual work ethic, either. i’m not sure what’s up with him.”
“maybe he’s overworked,” tighnari suggests—you know him as a fellow amurta scholar, recognizing him from your student days. you hadn’t realized alhaitham was friends with such an interesting assortment of people—well, you don’t know if kaveh fits as a friend, but the other two seem like safe bets.
“i don’t think so,” kaveh grumbles, “he’s hardly been sleeping. it’s not like he takes work home with him, you think he’d be the type? but he’s been drinking all the coffee—i actually work into the night. shouldn’t he at least leave some for me?”
“i wonder what’s up with him,” cyno hums thoughtfully, “he must really be brewing in his emotions.”
you snort at the poor pun, watching as the other two around him wince and groan.
finally, kaveh sighs, rubbing his temple as he mumbles, “i don’t know. i’ve never seen him like this. i think it’s serious.”
that makes guilt pool in your gut, making you feel so full that even one sip of your drink feels like too much. you’ve lost all desire to drink your sorrows away—you couldn’t have possibly dampened someone like alhaitham so deeply, could you? he’s always been unaffected by things more than others, and you’d never imagined him to care that deeply about your relationship. if you could call it that, even.
“what do you suppose has brought this on then?” tighnari’s ears twitch in worry, “he’s…not exactly the most emotionally available.”
well, at least you’re not alone in your beliefs.
“i don’t know,” kaveh says quietly—and even if they claim not to be friends, you don’t think they hate each other a fraction as much as they let on because his voice seems to be twinged with clear worry himself as he adds, “his eyes have been red in the mornings. it can’t be something small.”
that’s all you can stomach to hear before you slam your glass down and swiftly make a beeline for the tavern’s exit. some part of you, weak and bound to alhaitham, is unable to listen any longer about his misery. the misery you caused. the misery you brought yourselves both because insecurities ebbed and flowed into the deepest crevices of your mind and rotted away at the reasonable parts.
of course, you’re different. of course, there’s a chance things will go sour. of course, it won’t be easy. but isn’t that the case for every relationship? love was never meant to be a simple feat—otherwise, it would never be half as scary to take the fall.
but you’ve been careful, too careful. so careful that you forgot to let yourself try and be happy, and so careful that you’ve stomped on someone’s feelings enough that his friends exchange their worries over drinks instead of having a good time with him.
so you decide that enough is enough. if alhaitham isn’t meant to be yours, then celestia themselves will have to take him from you—because you’re not risking losing him a second time.
not again.
——————————
contrary to popular belief, alhaitham has never been difficult to track down if you simply know where to look. he might be good at making himself scarce, but there’s only a handful of places he could be. the light of his home shining through the window tells you that your first guess is not very off.
you knock, silently staring at the tips of your shoes as he slowly opens the door.
“hey,” you murmur as soon as the door swings open. you haven’t even looked up yet, but you’re certain he has the same neutral expression on his face. but kaveh is right about one thing—his eyes are definitely a little red.
“hey,” he says quietly.
it’s awkward for a moment. you don’t know what to say, and he doesn’t have any intentions to fill the silence. some time ago, that worried you. his quietness came across as an inability to keep up healthy communication. but now, you miss it—the quiet flip of his pages as he sat beside you, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. the way he let out a soft little breath when you lay on his chest, rubbing his palm slowly in circles against the small of your back. the soft, peaceful silence of his presence.
you never appreciated it enough, the comfort of knowing you’re valued without having to say anything at all.
“listen, i—”
“you don’t have to—”
you both stop, pausing when you speak at the same time.
“go ahead,” you say instantly.
he clears his throat, shaking his head as he swallows. “no,” he mumbles, ever the gentleman, “no, that’s okay. you go first.”
you think your nerves might just explode one by one if you have to wait any longer, so you don’t bother putting up much more of a fight, nodding before fiddling with your fingers as you take a deep breath.
the words spill faster than you can process what you’re saying. a long, jumbled string of thoughts that rattle off your tongue like a dam finally breaking at the leaking crack.
“i was wrong. for all the things i said, i mean. there’s nothing wrong with you, you know? you’re really kind, and you remember the little things, and you always keep your promises, and those are really nice things. and i don’t hate when you’re quiet, by the way. i used to think it bothered me, but i miss it, you know? just having you sit next to me and read and stuff. i guess…i guess i just never bothered trying to think about how to love you the way you needed because i was so busy worrying if you could love me the way i needed and…and i just fucked a lot of things up. i got in my head and made a lot of assumptions that weren’t fair and just…i got cold feet. and i’m sorry. and i love you—really, really love you. all of you. you don’t have to believe me or even say anything at all. i just needed you to know all that because you deserve to.”
he’s silent. you can’t tell whether from being stunned or from disinterest. both are fair, regardless—you think alhaitham could slam the door shut in your face, and you’d deserve it. but he doesn’t. because just as always, he’s your same, kind, gentle alhaitham underneath all of the blunt stoicism.
“i lied,” you whisper, “i do want you to say something. anything.”
“i don’t know what you want me to say,” he stares at his feet, still looking as hurt as the day you left him. “you…you just assumed i wouldn’t be able to love you, is what i’m gathering.”
“i just thought…” you swallow thickly, tongue like sandpaper against your dry mouth, “i just thought we were too different.”
“i thought we got along well,” he shrugs, trying to pretend there isn’t as much hurt on his features as there is, “maybe i misread things.”
“no,” you shake your head desperately, “no, i overthought them, that’s all.”
“why did you leave me?” he asks hoarsely, “why couldn’t we have talked about things?”
you want to say because you were a coward, maybe even a hypocrite. you insisted he’d be too constipated emotionally to communicate properly with you, but all you’ve done was decide things for him and avoid the hard, heart-to-heart talk.
really, it’s because you were never brave enough to try and love alhaitham the way he would have loved you. the way he loves you. you were blind to see it—weren’t even willing to believe that he ever would. not until after you let him go and realized what you had. he’d walked you home, made sure you got proper rest, pulled strings, and used up favors just to make things better for you. and you missed all the signs, all because it was so easy to walk away, to label his blunt nature as causal cruelty, to confuse his quietness as disinterest, to assume his logic was the absence of emotion. you never gave him a chance because you were never brave enough to take the fall.
but alhaitham was always ready to catch you, arms aching to wrap around your form and hold you. not because he wanted you to love him, but because all he’s ever wanted was to love you.
you think that’s the difference between the two of you. you’ve always wanted to be loved, and he’s always wanted to love. you’ve always wanted to take and he’s always wanted to give. you’ve always wanted him to be enough, and he’s always wanted you to know you’re enough and more.
it’s too much to tell him though, so you settle on cupping his cheeks and whispering, “because you scare me. the way you make me feel.”
“how do i make you feel?”
not too long ago, you’d think he was asking just to confirm what he already knows. now, you know he’s asking because he needs to hear the words for his own sake. just to be sure. just to ease the uncertainty in his own head.
“you make me feel a lot of things, haitham,” you murmur, “you make me feel happy. appreciated. very pretty. capable. important. sometimes a little dumb,” you giggle as he frowns, squeezing his cheeks as you add, “but only because you’re so smart. i could list a few other things you make me feel, but…they’re not as proper.”
“i thought…just…d-did i do something?” he asks, voice hesitant. there’s a painful, awful squeeze in your heart at his words. but your heart is the last of your worries right now—it’s the least you can do, putting your feelings aside for his own, seeing as you’ve stomped all over his.
so, in an effort to show him that everything is okay, you smile—you’re sure it’s a pathetic, wobbly little thing, but you don’t have time to care. not when he’s right here, under your fingertips, and one possible moment away from slipping away.
a watery chuckle escapes you as you whisper, “no. you didn’t do anything—it was me. but i’m not running away anymore…if you still want me, that is.”
“you’re all i want,” he says instantly. “the only thing.”
“i know,” you breathe, “and you are all i want too.”
you kiss him. because he deserves to feel you choose him, to feel you close the gap and show him you’re here. your lips press gently against his, molding into them like two pieces of a puzzle—except you don’t think neither of you fit anywhere else but each other. incomplete without each other and unable to fit anywhere else. your thumb traces the soft, warm skin of his cheek, soothingly caressing it as if to let him know i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere.
he stumbles back, and you follow him in, pressing against the door of his home just like those days ago before an unwelcomed interruption. this time, though, you think kaveh could freeze outside all you care—you’re not letting anything interrupt this moment.
“i’ve been losing my mind for weeks too,” he mumbles in between gasps for air as you kiss, “just so you know. it wasn’t you alone.”
“that’s good to know,” you hum, grinning against his mouth.
“and i thought i was giving signs,” he adds, “that’s why i went through the trouble to fix your schedule. so i could spend more time with you—i…i apologize if i wasn’t obvious with my intentions.”
“don’t be,” you say softly, “i’m the one who missed them. you did everything right.”
“did i?” he asks, unsure.
you press your lips firmly against his when you hear the crack in his voice, as if sheer touch alone will express the way you feel. maybe it does, though—because he melts against you, letting out a soft moan as your hands travel to his broad chest, feeling the muscled and toned body he hardly hides under that skin-tight shirt.
“i get scared easily,” you whisper, “will you be patient with me?”
“i’m not good at expressing my emotions,” he whispers back, “will you be patient with me too?”
“we can be patient together,” you hum, pecking his lips a few times as he chuckles softly.
“good plan,” he nods, “sounds like it should work.”
“oh, thank you,” you wink playfully, pulling away to wrap your arms around his neck and press your forehead to his as you look at him cheekily, “i’m a bit of a genius.”
“that you are,” he nods, smiling in amusement. and he means it. you’re every bit smart and capable as he makes you feel—inadequacy was never something alhaitham made you feel; it was always something you brought onto yourself. you’re used to shifting the blame, you realize. it’s so easy to blame everything and everyone but yourself for the intrusive thoughts in your head.
but they melt away tonight, one feathered kiss at a time, pressed to your jaw delicately by warm, familiar lips you’d know blind.
“your friends are worried about you, you know. kaveh—”
“please do not mention kaveh’s name right now,” he groans, “i’ll hear all about your alarming story of my friends at the tavern, but right now, i only want to hear you say one name.”
“yours?” you wiggle your brows.
“glad to know we’re on the same page,” he confirms, humming as your hands trail under his shirt, feeling the ridges of his built muscles.
“i don’t want anymore casual sex,” you murmur, pouting, “it’s driving me mad.”
“okay,” he nods, shivering as your palms glide over his nipples as you pull his shirt up, exposing his chiseled abdomen for you to admire, “will girlfriend suffice?”
“girlfriend would be great,” you nod, beaming.
“just so you’re aware, i am very concerned with the emotions of my girlfriend, however heavy they might be. i do still think, however, that nurse was on a…unique realm of her own, though,” he adds the last part with a pointed look.
“don’t mention other women when you just asked me to be your girlfriend,” you huff, “don’t forget who stitches you up. don’t get on my bad side.”
“my apologies,” he laughs.
and then you’re back to kissing him, fervently and so desperately, you think this might be your last day on earth, making the most of it before you’ve breathed your last breath. alhaitham groans into your mouth, lets your hands wander all over him as you feel the tautness of his physique.
it’s not the first time you’ve felt him, but it is the first time you can take all the time you want, memorizing him because he’s yours to keep locked away in your memory.
“i love you,” you pant against his mouth, wet, hot kisses interrupting your sweet confession.
“i,” he kisses your cheek, “love,” a kiss to your other cheek, “you,” a kiss to your nose, “too.”
this time, he leans down and kisses you right over your pulse point, right where your racing heart rate is beating erratically. you gasp when he bites and sucks at the flesh, making you whimper as your knees buckle.
“how much?” you ask, pleading to know.
“enough to lose sleep,” he murmurs, “because my dreams were plagued with you. i couldn’t escape you in waking hours or in slumber. that’s how much you torment me. take over my body and mind. is that what you needed to hear?”
he’s a linguist—sometimes you forget that. perhaps he’s not so bad at saying what you need to hear, after all.
“maybe,” you hum, kissing his cheek, nibbling affectionately at the soft flesh, “you like me that much? how cute.”
“i’ll like you a lot more if you stop teasing,” he grunts, pressing his hot, searing erection against your thigh as your thumbs toy away at his nipples. you gasp when you feel him prod at you, feeling the heat even through the fabric that separates you.
neither of you are patient enough to do this properly right now—but you have plenty of time for that. plenty of time to take it slow, explore each other, and map your bodies in ways you never dared to before. scared to cross that stupid, useless imaginary line you drew for no reason at all. you decide from here on out there are no more lines—just endless sand, your footprints next to his as you trek the path of lovers.
you rub at his hardened cock through his pants, making him grunt before he grabs your hands and pins them over your head.
“i said love you,” he says intensely, eyeing you with a carnal hunger you’ve never seen in him before, “but i didn’t say i’d be patient tonight.”
with that, his free hand tugs down both of your pants—his just enough to free his aching cock, and yours enough to expose your leaking cunt as he teases your clit with the blunt tip of his length. you whimper, bucking your hips into him, feeling the beads of precum spread along your heat as he shudders.
“put it in,” you whine, clutching his shirt with tight fists.
“you’re…not ready yet,” he insists, teeth grit as he gives his all to hold himself back from taking you just like you plead.
but you’re stubborn—and alhaitham? he’s too weak to you to fight you when you are, doomed to give into any and every whim of yours.
“don’t care,” you shake your head, “don’t care, don’t care, don’t care. i just want you—please, please, please haitham.”
that’s all it takes for him to crack—slowly, so, so carefully, he nudges past your wet folds, inching his throbbing cock into you as you gasp at the stretch. this isn’t the first time he’s split you open—but it’s never something you get used to. the burning stretch still feels as new as the first time. he groans, low and breathless, as your walls clamp down on him as he slowly but surely intrudes into your cunt.
“so tight,” he murmurs, voice filled with wonder—like this is the first time he’s ever felt you so raw. maybe it is. he’s never felt you as his, as yours. “does that feel good? do you feel me? what you do to me? and you thought i didn’t feel the same? like i didn’t purposely let blades slice my skin just for an excuse to come find you? feel your touch, watch you worry? just for a moment of your attention? surely, you can’t be so blind.”
his words make your head spin, making you throw it back as a soft escapes you when the last bit of his length slips in, filling you full and to the brim as he nudges at the most sensitive spots inside of you. he’s so deep; you think your lungs are filled with him, like every breath you take is filled with him, him, him.
“yes,” you say through a shaky voice, “yes—so good, you feel so good. i want you, haitham. all of you.”
“you have all of me,” he kisses the words into your neck, “that’s not enough? you want more?”
“yes,” you plead, “more!”
he chuckles, smooth and low and so pretty, you feel an ache in your clit from the sound alone. “well, alright then. more it is—i could never dream of denying such a sweet wish.”
finally, he rolls his hips, all but pulling out completely before pressing back into you, dragging along every ridge of you, nudging his thick tip against the spongey, sensitive at the back of your walls. you’re slack against his door, held up by him and him alone as your body betrays you, unable to keep balance as he fucks into you the way he does.
it’s been nine days without you. the way his hips snap so desperately into you, you’d think he’s a man thirsty, gone a year without rain in the deepest, more treacherous ruins in the desert. all you can do is cling to him, repeat the same mantra of haitham, haitham, haitham—more, please haitham.
he knows your body well. so, so well, he knows exactly how to toy with your clit, thumb finding the sensitive nub, enough pressure to make you whine with a jolt, but not enough to let you fall over the edge just yet—not until he allows it.
“i love you,” he punctuates with a roll of his hips, “repeat that. so i know you believe it. so i know you believe me.”
“p-please,” you gasp, tugging at his hair, “i…i need to c-cum—”
“say it,” he demands.
“you love me—oh,” you cut yourself off with a sharp breath, his thumb abusing your clit in faster circles.
“again,” he says firmly.
“you love me,” you whimper, “you…you love me. only me.”
“good,” he nods, groaning as you squeeze around him at the praise, “and don’t forget it. not for a second.”
“l-love you too,” you stutter, voice cracking as he rolls his hips unforgivingly, the friction making your mind fog with pure lust. “love you so, so much.”
that makes him inhale sharply, breath catching in his throat. his head falls to your neck, hot breath fanning against your skin as he moans lowly, hips sloppy and ungraceful in their pace but never failing in precision to angle right into your sweet spot. his thumb rolls circles into your clit, fast and desperate to send you over the edge so he can follow.
and you do—you fall off the edge so fast, so hard, your nails dig blunt, raw crescent moons into his skin as you arch your back off the door and cry his name. luckily for alhaitham, his house is built conveniently enough that he has no close neighbors. no one to hear such filthy sounds right against the door for them to witness just by passing by. no one should be at this hour—but even if they were, you hardly could bring yourself to care.
“c-cumming,” you wail, “cumming, haitham.”
“so beautiful,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, voice strained as he chases his own orgasm, “can’t…can’t believe you’re mine. mine.”
it’s like the realization that you’re his is what pushes him past the edge, his cock twitching with hot, thick ropes of cum into your abused cunt and painting the walls white as soon as he repeats the word mine.
mine, mine, mine—he doesn’t stop repeating it even as he fucks himself into you and works himself through his high. you can feel the wet, messy trail of his cum and your slick leaking down your thighs, so filthy, so lewd, so devastatingly raw.
“yours,” you confirm tiredly, kissing his head as he pants into your neck, muffled moans pressed against your skin as you soothe him while he falls apart against you. “all yours. not going anywhere, i promise. i promise.”
finally, he slumps against you, panting as he tries to catch his breath, sweaty and tired but never unsatisfied.
“if you leave me again,” he quietly admits, “i think i’ll go mad.”
“then i won’t,” you say gently, stroking his sweaty locks.
“i love you,” he reminds you once more, “do you believe me?”
“i do,” you nod, smiling like he’s handed you the sun, “and i love you too. do you believe me?”
“i do,” he hums, wrapping himself around you tighter.
there’s a jiggle of the doorknob behind you, followed by an incoherent, slurred string of curses. alhaitham deflates against you, looking up at you tiredly. you throw your head back and laugh, gleeful, and so, so in love.
“i’m tired of him,” he grumbles.
“let him off easy this once,” you brush back his hair, “it’s thanks to him that i came to see you tonight.”
“then i suppose just this once, i won’t leave him out to freeze,” he relents.
you realize for a moment, alhaitham had never drawn the line in the first place. perhaps it was always just you, making rules in your head when all he ever did was want you from the start. he waited so patiently for you, so you cup his cheeks and pull him closer, giving him one more firm kiss as a reward for all you put him through. he pulls away, dazed as he stares at you with unfocused eyes.
“i’ll give you another like that if you run me a warm bath,” you say cheekily.
“do i get to join this bath,” he raises a brow, eyeing you in amusement as his hands rub soothingly into your hips.
you pretend to think for a moment, mockingly tapping your chin in deep thought before you murmur, “okay, fine. but no funny business.”
“i wouldn’t dream of it—”
“hello?” kaveh’s slurred call interrupts, followed by rough knocking.
“he can freeze,” alhaitham says bitterly.
“don’t you dare!” you gasp, fighting back a laugh as he looks at you miserably.
well…….what was supposed to be maybe 4-5k words at best has…..gotten quite out of hand LOL. 14k words later i present to you my official love letter to alhaitham. anyway i suppose this fic stems from sometimes wondering if i would be compatible with the characters i enjoy. but the question is not whether or not you’re compatible, but whether or not you’re willing to put in the work to make compatibility. and alhaitham would certainly do that. anyway!!! i hope you enjoyed. i’m not sure if many peiple will read this, but if you do, reblogs and comments are really appreciated! giving you all a hug and reminding you that your favs would 100% want you <3
#writing tag#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham smut#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact smut
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@harrgrove Got me thinking about something I almost never see but now have a voracious craving for.
Consider, platonic soulmates Jonathan and Billy.
It would take them a hell of a lot to start talking, and even if they did, they’re both awkward as all hell so it wouldn’t be immediate like it was for Steve and Robin. It’s a little more hard won, but once they start talking, they quickly find they have so much in common it’s frankly ridiculous they haven’t talked before.
Imagine them finding they have incredibly similar outlooks and they think almost the same way. They quickly fall into that pseudo mind-reading thing, and they’re able to tell at a glance how the other is feeling even if no one else is able to see past their fronts.
Billy helps Jonathan learn to be a little more assertive where he needs to be, or if he’s around he’ll just do it for him since he has no problem sliding into that role. Jonathan helps Billy learn how to calm the hell down, how to handle the anger he lives with. They balance each other in a way neither realized they needed until it happened.
Of course, the obligatory understanding between them due to their shit dads. Something something, Billy is spiraling about it, something something Jonathan takes the first step to show vulnerability by showing him one of the scars Lonnie left on him, something something, Billy becomes fiercely protective of him while also seeing him as a safe place to be vulnerable about how badly Neil has hurt him. Jonathan helping him through the process of unlearning all the shit Neil beat into him, and in turn Jonathan feels a part of himself healing along with Billy.
Why pit them against each other when we could have this??
#stranger things#billy hargrove#jonathan byers#platonic soulmates jonathan and billy#yall have got to know i'm picturing billy having a complete breakdown in jonathan's bed at like 3:42 am#it's the first breakdown that someone actually comforts him through#and that little bit of kindness makes all the difference#jonathan gets to project a little bit too#giving someone the comfort he also wanted back then#joyce gave it to him when she could but he's the oldest he's always had to muscle through more often than not#it feels good to be able to give that to someone who needs it as bad as he did#he also gets the most dedicated friend he's ever had out of it#if billy was ready to take on the mindflayer and DIE over El being nice to him for .01 seconds#he would be unspeakably loyal to Jonathan if this happened#he'd make sure he never felt lonely or left out ever#he also strikes me as the type to quietly squirrel away details about people like favorite foods and drinks#just to bring them those things as often as possible#he'd be such a good listener too and Jonathan is usually the one in that role so it would be nice to be the one being listened to instead#listen guys I have a lot of thoughts about this
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I find it kind of silly that so many of those "time based life rule" sayings are like ~deep serious guidelines~ of some sort, but then there's that one other Well Known Rule that's just like "hrmm can I eat something off of the ground or not"
#the duality of human condition.. two biggest concerns in the modern era are attempts at self fulfilling productivity#and also 'if i drop my sandwich can i still eat it :('#Also while capitalism is often linked with/the source of hyper productivity culture - note that I do not mean the images in that context#'meaningful to you' does not have to mean 'productive within a capitalist system'. The point is not 'every waking hour of every day#must be spent in the most societally productive grinding mindset hyper efficency mode possible' but more like#if you've always wanted to learn french ever since you were a kid and you think it would be fulfilling to you (just because you like it#absent of any larger purpose like using it for a job/monetizing it somehow/etc.). and you've just spent like 5 hours straight on tiktok#or something mindlessly scrolling the internet. maybe someimtes it'd help for your own personal fulfillment in the long#run to try to - the next time you have 5 spare hours - work on learning french or something that is actually significant to you#as a person and that you'll be glad you worked towards. instead of weeks and weeks passing by and feeling you have nothing to show for it#or etc. AAANYWAY. The images/rules themselves are also NOT the main point of this post. More just the juxtaposition of them together#and the fact that 3 of them are serious seeming while one is so mundane it seems silly in comparison.#BUT even though they're not the main point . I still didn't want it to come across as if I was like promoting or buying into capitalist#productivity culture propaganda or etc. I don't find productivity tips like this inherently bad as long as they're kind of divorced from#those ideas. I think it's still important in life to have goals even if those goals exist outside of the typical expected framework.#I mean that's actually part of why a culture of chronically exhausted overworked deprived people is damaging because if you#'re forced to spend 85% of your waking time working at some job that is perosnally meaningless to you that brings you nothing that#youre only doing under threat of starvation and houselesness and etc. then of course you don't have much time for hobbies or things you car#about and of course you'll feel more aimless and personally unsatisfied and like life is not fulfilling or interesting.#Productivity and efficiency is GOOD actually. as long as it's able to be directed in ways that are actually meaingful to the community or#individual and bring some sort of feeling of fulfillment or progress or accomplishment and working towards a person's personal ideas#of happiness whatever those are. rather than just working away aimlessly so some guy you don't know can buy a 20th house or etc. etc.#ANYWAY.. lol.. Me overthinking things perhaps.. probably not as likely#that people see the silly little cat images and go 'WOW EVIL you must be a capitalist grind culture lover' like its pretty clear#thats not the point... but... just in case... lol.. I loooove to over clarify things that don't actually need clarification
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A mutual reblogged a pr*ship post and their dni is now neutral. Unfallowed. Bolcked.
#see if i joke i don't CHOKE. on my tears. because this just keeps happening#i'm so scared to interact with mutuals for this exact reason#most i've made have either left me. became toxic over minor differences or become a degenerate.#which is sad because i really enjoyed this friend and all those friends before they or i cut ties#but this kind of shit is unforgivable to me. i've had bad experiences with a friend turning out to be a pr*shipper#everyone flocked to me to fix their traumas but i had talked to that person often. it hurt a lot. they harassed people who harassed them#i was only 15. and i was threatened but what the hell is a sheltered kid SUPPOSED to do back. i wasn't taught shit#people in their fucking 20's were trauma dumping to me in dms and sadly still go to me when they catch wind of this person-#'i need support' you need to get offline. please. just block and ignore. i'm tired.#i should not have had to be babysitting adults and older teens when i didn't know what half those words were at the time.#months ago i did something stupid when i was at my limit and mirrored the pettiness i saw. i was told i would drive someone to suicide.#over saying the person was a bit mean and bringing up some posts i thought they made#i did apologise when i got it wrong. but got threatened with the person possibly killing themselves in my inbox.#this person and the pr*ship person were famously at eachothers' throats#i do not stand by the pr*ship persons' actions. their opinions on the other person were honestly right though. the only thing i agree with.#once again i complain about proshits and gatekeeps. the two are almost as bad as eachother to me#or at least two awful sides that have affected me and my ability to make friends online.#so that's what this remined me of.
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Ok so I watched the interview with Stephen Rooney, Astarion's writer, and here are some highlights. (I'm an aspiring writer and current game design student who wants to write for games so I'm sorry if some of these insights aren't as interesting to you as they are to me <3)
He calls Astarion his "horrible little vampire boy"
He loves seeing the fandom around Astarion<3
He did write other characters in the game, but mostly NPCs surrounding Astarion or his storyline, so it mostly revolved around Astarion
Astarion is not as connected to other companions/Origins as, for example, Lae'zel and Shadowheart, or Wyll and Karlach are to each other, but he is still reactive to their stories, even if it's just to stand off to the side and laugh when something terrible happens
He had a clear sense of where Astarion's story would start and end, but it got "muddy in the middle", but those are also moments where the best ideas come from
They write from the general idea that every character has one "good" and one "evil" ending, in order to give the player choice. RIP Ascendant apologists :(
According to Stephen, two of the most important aspects of Astarion's character (to keep consistent when bringing him to Idle Champions, at least) is that he enjoys violence, but is also fun about it
"He has a certain appreciation for violence, I guess? A bit of a murdery streak. [...] He's a vampire, he's all about blood, and he's all about, kind of, those darker sides of humanity. [..] But at the same time, he is ... He is really fun, he's really fun to write, he's really fun to have in your party, and it's very important for me that that is also represented."
"He's gonna stab you, but will have a smile on his face as he does it? I mean, I dunno. That's kind of him in a nutshell."
Larian would not have allowed for Astarion to be a typical brooding Dracula type, and there were scenes that were shot down for not being original enough
The main thing about Astarion was trying to get a "sense of fun." It would be easy to write a character that was very unlikable, and they absolutely did not want to do that
Rooney says Astarion is consistently terrible throughout the game and awful in a whole lot of ways, but he also needed to be charming enough that you could tolerate his presence and wanted him around
Rooney also had a lot of input on Astarion's stats (meaning the 10 Charisma is probalby 100% intentional)
He also had input on how certain lines should be delivered, even though the writers didn't directly work with voice actors
The way Astarion moves and poses is "all Neil"
Apparently, Neil Newbon worked on the character for years and Rooney did not speak to him once, though his voice work did influence how Astarion's lines were written and it became a "feedback loop" (Possible context for "ONLY SLIGHTLY, NEIL")
There were no points where a line delivery drastically changed Astarion's writing; rather it was a constant, slow evolution
However, there was one very spoilery moment where Neil gave such emotion to some "basic" lines that it fundamentally changed the scene (WHAT IS IT OMG)
It's difficult to balance approval, as you don't want to straight up write a monster. Every character needs to have some humanity in them. So if it comes to leaving the party, it needed to be the result of something central to said character. They wanted to be mindful of situations that would cause actual rifts between characters. (I assume this is why most generic disapprovals/approvals are +/- 1 or 2, while character-related ones give +/-5 or more)
However, as they don't write straight up horrible people/monsters, it doesn't come up as often as one might think.
The interviewer makes a point about how characters like Astarion and Lae'zel are good examples of how to play "evil" characters, as they are maybe not the best people but are still eager and willing to stick around the other party members
They worked to make sure the characters would work as a group, no matter the configuration of the group. The characters needed to be on the same path, even if they don't always agree or walk that path the same way.
Stephen Rooney is very proud of the "climactic" scene of Astarion's story. (AS HE SHOULD BE.) He even had to step away from the computer and have an emotional moment. Me too, man.
He's also "extremely pleased" that there's a point where you can punch Astarion in the face. "Actually, that one might be my favorite part" A MAN OF THE PEOPLE!!
Stephen Rooney's tip on what specific thing you should try out with Astarion: When he's trying to get a "sneaky nibble" at night, you should "probably" let him bite you. Way ahead of you there, sir.
No discussion about Astarion's romance unfortunately, but that's that!
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#astarion#anyway ... after dragon age it feels so mindblowing to have writers who aren't apologists for their characters
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I wanna kiss HSR men on the forehead and tell them I’m proud of them. May I request some HCs of their reaction?
Aventurine practically melts the moment your hands held his face with a warm tenderness as your thumbs softly caressed his cheeks, causing him to close his eyes and eagerly lean into your touch.
He could feel every ounce of love you had towards him in such a simple touch that he wondered how that could even be possible.
How easy you made it seem to be able to convey all your thoughts and feelings in something small like a touch of a hand, a brush of shoulders, or even a nudging of a foot; something that shouldn’t convey as much heavy emotions but did whenever you were the one performing those small gestures.
Not to mention that most of those small but impactful gestures were directed towards him made Aventurine wonder whatever could he -out of everyone else- have possibly done to even remotely deserving of any of it.
‘I’m proud of you Kakavasha.’ You said as you lifted a hand to push away his bangs and press a loving kiss to his forehead, making him whimper and press further against your lips, silently begging you for more. ‘I’m so proud of you.’ You add as you pressed another kiss to his forehead.
Such simple words and a peck to his forehead shouldn’t have so much effect over Aventurine but it did as his eyes shot open the moment he felt you pull away, looking at you with his pretty eyes with something you’ve never seen before as he muttered under his breath.
‘What was that?’ You then asked as Aventurine sighs, leaning back against the bed. ‘I said I wanted more…please can I have more.’
‘You can have as many as your heart desires.’ You tell him, pressing a third and a fourth kiss to his forehead as he allows himself to properly relax under your seemingly magical touch, letting kiss away his thoughts until only you remained.
Argenti would smile sweetly as he watched you push his bangs back to reveal his forehead, feeling your warm breath fan across his skin as your lips closed the distance between you as you pressed a tender kiss to his forehead.
‘I’m so proud of you Aregenti.’ You whispered but the cherry haired knight hear you clear as day.
‘Whatever for my beloved rose.’ He’d replied as he kept you close, wishing for nothing more than to commit this tender moment to his memory ever more.
You shrug. ‘Am I not allowed to say that I’m proud of you in general rather than say it after you’ve done something spectacular? Don’t that seem a little redundant?’ You asked as Argenti chuckled, bringing his face close and nudging his nose gently against your own.
‘It does indeed.’ He agrees before posing a question of his own. ‘But wouldn’t the words loose their meaning after a while if we were to say how proud we are of each other after everything?’
‘No.’ You answered without hesitation as you looked into his pretty eyes that you loved to see first thing in the mornings you’ve shared together thus far. ‘Not if they come from your lips they don’t. I don’t think I could ever grow tired if you were to tell me how proud of me you were.’ You admit and Argenti made a face.
‘Do I not do that enough already?’ He asks genuinely curious as you smile, kissing his cheek.
‘You do but at least let me return the favour now and then. I want to praise my beautiful knight more often than not.’ You murmured against his skin.
Argenti hums as he kisses your forehead. ‘You already do so just by smiling lovingly at me. I don’t need words of praise to fall from your lips when your actions speak far louder but if that��s what you wish, then it shall be granted my beloved rose.’
Sunday
His wings would flutter when you kiss his forehead after a long day of preventing The Family from collapsing in on itself.
‘I’m so proud of you.’ You uttered into his ear, making him gasp as his wings would instinctively twitch at the sound of your voice due to their hyper sensitivity.
Then he would regain composure and smile graciously at you. ‘Thank you my beloved. It is truly a relief knowing that I’m doing right by you to earn your love and your praise, I shall not waste them.’
Sunday lives and breaths on your praises as though they were the only things giving him life. So whenever you do give him praise for anything, Sunday feels more and more validated into continuing whatever he was doing in hopes of earning more in the future.
You had a powerful, powerful man who had an innate need to prove himself to you in order to gain your trust, love and respect and won’t stop until he had it in droves.
All this was within him and locked behind a calm, cool and levelheaded facade.
He may not look like he was heavily affected by your actions and sweet words on the outside but internally his need to keep you happy and proud of him outweighed everything else as the happier you were, the less likely you were to attempt to leave him later on.
Boothill
He impatiently waits for the days where you bless his face with kisses and whatnot.
It’s his ultimate weakness and you knew that face very well whenever you watched as his cheeks went all flushed, making this shark teethed man looked about as harmless as a puppy dog, when in actuality he was anything but harmless.
‘I’m so proud of you.’
You had this man weak in the knees from that alone, but the fact that you went out of your way to press a kiss to his forehead oh so sweetly had him practically kneeling before you in worship.
‘Whatever for darling?’ He’d ask.
‘Just for being genuine yourself.’ You would response, kissing his forehead a second time and pulling back to watch as he smiled dopily.
‘If me just being myself is enough to earn me some forehead kisses and sweet praises from someone as sweet as you, then count me in sweetheart.’ He would then say as he practically melted he felt your hands as they held his face still as you kissed his forehead for a third time.
Boothill thrived off of your affection.
It was his personal drug that he could never get enough of.
#hsr x you#hsr imagine#hsr imagines#hsr x reader#honkai star rail imagine#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#honaki star rail#Honkai star rail imagines#hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#aventurine imagine#aventurine imagines#hsr argenti x reader#argenti x reader#argenti x you#Argenti imagines#Argenti imagine#hsr sunday x reader#hsr boothill x reader#sunday x reader#sunday imagines#sunday imagine#boothill x reader#boothill imagine#boothill imagines
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hi i wanted to ask since your requests are open but can u write abt jjk guys (gojo, geto and maybe megumi as well) and how it would be like arguing with them? thank youuu~
ARGUMENTS WITH JJK MEN ˚｡𖦹
featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x reader
warnings. cursing on toji's :)
note. hi nonnie, megumi's been done and you can just click right there to be directed to the said post — so, i'm going to change him to his father jsksdjdk. anyways, i'm so sorry this came out so late, i hope you like it. i was going to focus on my 1k event but then i realized that i'm holding up the requests in my inbox, so i'm going to try to upload them together one by one. / and ngl, i just did my nails done for the first time, aND I AM STRUGGLING TO DO ANYTHING. including typing, but i'm trying my best skdjs.
GOJO SATORU. arguments with him are just plain loud. for instance, we all know how gojo is, he'd be so petty during arguments. despite that though — i feel like he won't ever raise his voice at you, he's petty, yes. but he won't do anything that could scare you, raising his voice.
believe me when i say that he won't back down when he isn't in the wrong. he will argue back if you're wrong; and even with all that banter, both you and gojo will always resolve it together. he won't let you leave or turn away to discard the argument. gojo hates it when you give him the silent treatment — so he tries his best to not let you leave unless everything is talked about, face to face.
"satoru, i'm just saying that i didn't mean to do that. okay? i didn't even realize it!" you tell him, voice loud and bold.
gojo looks at you, brows furrowed, "this is the second time y/n, i'm sure you realize that — you're not a child anymore." you grumbled under your breath.
the past few days have been stressful. hectic for you. you knew though it wasn't an excuse, but when things get too caught up — you lose track of things, and honestly, you wanted nothing to do but to sleep and take a rest. work has been taking a big toll on you, both mentally and physically — and you can't bring yourself to argue with gojo right now.
"satoru, i know. it's just, things have been stressful at work. i'm sorry i forgot to turn off the stove," you tell him genuinely sorry that you almost, possibly burn the whole house down if he hadn't been the one to realize that, "i'm sorry, okay?"
his gaze softened. regaining control over the rhythm of his breathing, gojo reaches out to you, "d'you wanna talk about it?"
you shook your head, "i just wan' to sleep, satoru. i'm tired." he buries his nose into your hair before tossing you over his shoulder, you didn't complain at the way he decided to carry you — you just wanted to go to bed and sleep the night away.
the male held you close as he climbed your shared bed, "'m sorry too," he mumbles, grazing his lips over your forehead.
"you don't have to be, it's my fault for being reckless," you replied, draping an arm over his torso, clutching his black shirt, "can we sleep now?"
gojo chuckles, "mhm. good night," he whispers, "i love you."
you smiled at him, burying your face into his chest, "good night 'toru. i love you more."
GETO SUGURU. arguments with geto can be pretty frustrating, although he never raises his voice at you. he just knows what to say, and he's always right too. whether it being about you forgetting to throw the trash out (once), or you being forgetful about some things — geto just knows the right words to say to you, without making you feel like you're doing something wrong.
see, the thing is in the house. you both divided your chores, geto does the dishes, and the mopping. you do the laundry and vacuuming. while the morning trash is yours, and he does it nightly.
he's usually never in the wrong. most of the time. but when he is, he will admit so. in conclusion, you don't argue with him often, because he will apologize if he knows he did something wrong. but this was on rare occasions.
today is one of those rare occasions. you swore you had left the house clean — and you remembered throwing the trash before you leave for work. yet, here he was, asking you about it.
"suguru, i promise i threw it in the morning. before i left for work," you tell him, taking off your shoes and putting it neatly on the shoe rack. having to come back home from work, you just wanted to eat dinner, have a nice warm bath, and sleep.
god, you hated arguments. you admitted that you sometimes forget to throw the trash out while rushing to go to work, but that was not intentional at all.
geto had asked your prior about it. you knew he wasn't sparking an argument, but the thing is — you remembered it well. going out of the door this morning while holding a plastic of waste, hell, you even remembered bumping into a neighbor on the way out.
"just . . . let me throw it out again—" geto has been awfully silent for the past few minutes, and when you approached the trash can, he immediately stops you.
his hand latching around your wrist gently as he pulls you over, "no, no. it's my fault, i remember now. i was the one who threw that in the trash can after you left," he said to you in an apologetic tone, "'m sorry."
you shook your head, "it's okay, it's just a misunderstanding. and it's not like you intentionally forgot about it, right?" he nods his head mutely, pulling you into a silent embrace, "y'okay sugu?"
"the next time i do that — i want you to smack me in the face, okay?" you chuckled, placing a wet kiss onto his lips.
TOJI FUSHIGURO. i don't know how to say it — he's just accepts his fate and does whatever you want him to do. he thinks arguments are a complete waste of time, it's not like he likes arguing with you in the first place. he just doesn't see a point to it since he never initiates the talking; you always do. but that's because he did things that sparked the said argument. you reap what you sow.
toji can be lazy sometimes. scratch that. most of the time. clothes sprawled out in the living room, on the kitchen counter which he claimed he forgot when he was grabbing water, on the couch, on the headboard of your bed, on the bathroom sink. and honestly, he's a grown man — he knows better than that.
"toji, how many times do i have to tell you—"
"put the dirty laundry in their place, yeah, y'reminded me that like . . . three times today." he grumbled under his breath as he yawned out loudly.
"then why are you still leaving them everywhere? god, this is so childish! it's like 'm taking care of a fucking baby," toji lets out a sigh, "i'm so tired of telling you over and over again. you're a grown man, why can't you act like one?"
toji's not dumb. he knows it's his mistake, and sometimes he genuinely forgets about leaving his shirt out while being too preoccupied with other things. he loves you, he really does. the last thing he'd like is you leaving him because he can't stop his habit of leaving his shirt everywhere.
he approaches you, taking the shirt out of your grip, "my fault."
"damn right it is. the next time i see another shirt, i swear to god, you're sleeping on the couch." you muttered out, crossing your arms — watching as the male meekly trotted into the bathroom where the laundry basket rested beside the bathroom cabinet.
"is that a threat?" he chuckles, peeking his head out.
"no. it's a warning."
he walks out of the bathroom, slithering an arm around your waist, hoisting you up onto his shoulder as he walked towards the couch. prepping you on his lap, "mm. noted, can you stop getting mad at me now?" he comments, grazing his finger over your neck.
and he did it again at night (and slept on the couch like you warned him, he still hates you for that).
© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#fluff#jjk#jjk fluff#gojo satoru#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru#geto fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#gojo x reader#toji fluff#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader
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Are all the themes in “in other lands” supposed to be a commentary on something? Or do you just like writing sex scenes between minors, age gaps, and reverse misogyny?
Genuine question.
Ohhh, my dear anon, I don't believe this is a genuine question.
But it does bring up something I've been meaning to talk about. So I'll take the bait.
Firstly. Yes, my work contains a commentary on the world around us. I wonder what I could be doing with the child soldiers being sexually active in their teens (people hook up right after battles), and the age gap relationship ending in the younger one being too mature for the elder. What could I possibly have been attempting when I said 'how absurd gender roles are, when projected onto people we haven't been accustomed by our own society to see that way'? I wasn't being subtle, that's for sure.
Secondly. Yes I do enjoy writing! I think I should, it's my life's work. Am I titillated by my own writing, no - though I think it's fine to be. The sex scenes of In Other Lands aren't especially titillating, to be honest. It is interesting to me how often people sneer at women for writing romance and sex scenes, having 'book boyfriends,' insinuating women writers fancy their own characters. Women having too much immoral fun! Whereas men clearly write about sex for high literary purposes.
… I have to say from my experience of women and men's writing, I haven't found that to be true.
I’m not in this to have an internet argument. I prefer to leave my anons open since not everyone has a tumblr, as @neil-gaiman says it’s an internet backwater, but a lovely one for those like myself who enjoy an essay about fictional characters! Still I will close my inbox to anons if I must. Mostly people use bad faith takes to poke at others from the other side of a screen for kicks. But I do know some truly internalise the attitude that writing certain things is wrong, that anyone who makes mistakes must be shunned as impure, and that is a deeply Victorian and restrictive attitude that guarantees unhappiness.
I've become increasingly troubled by the very binary and extreme ways of thinking I see arising on the internet. They come naturally from people being in echo chambers, becoming hostile to differing opinions, and the age-old conundrum of wanting to be good, fearing you aren't, and making the futile effort to be free of sin. It makes me think of Tennyson, who when travelling through Ireland at the time of the Great Famine, said nobody should talk about the 'Irish distress' to him and insisted the window shades of his carriage be shut as he went from castle to castle. So he wouldn't see the bodies. But that didn't make the bodies cease to be.
In Les Mis, Victor Hugo explores why someone might steal, what that means about them and their circumstances, and who they might be - and explores why someone else is made terribly unhappy, and endangers others, through their own too rigid adherence to judgement and condemnation without pity. The story understands both Jean Valjean the thief and Javert the policeman. Javert’s way of thinking is the one that inevitably leads to tragedy.
Depiction isn't endorsement. Depiction is discussion.
Many of my loved ones have had widely varying relationships to and experience of sex (including 'none'). They've felt all different types of ways about it. If writing about them is not permissible, I close them out. I'd much rather a dialogue be open than closed.
I do understand the urge to write what seems right to others. I've been brain-poisoned that way myself. I used to worry so much about my female characters doing the wrong things, because then they'd be justly hated! Then I noted which of my writer friends had people love their female characters the most - and it was the one who wrote their female characters as screwing up massively, making rash and sometimes wrong decisions. Who wrote them as people. Because that's what people do. That's what feels true to readers.
I want my characters to feel true to readers. I want my characters to react in messy ways to imperfect situations. I love fantasy, I love wild action and I love deep thought, and I want to engage. That's what In Other Lands is about. That's even more what Long Live Evil is about. That sexy lady who sashays in to have sexy sex with the hero - what is her deal? Someone who tricks and lies to others - why are they doing that, how did they get so skilled at it? What makes one person cruelly judgemental, and another ignore all boundaries? What makes Carmen Maria Machado describe ‘fictional queer villains’ as ‘by far the most interesting characters’? What irritates people about women having a great time? What attracts us to power, to fiction, and to transgression?
I don’t know the answers to all those questions, but I know I want to explore them. And I know one more thing.
If the moral thing to do is shut people out and shut people up? Count me among the villains.
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hi lovie !
I ADORE your writing and get so excited everytime you post 😭
I wanted to ask if you’re okay with writing a poly!marauders x reader fic where r is an overthinker and over analyzes small things. It brings r to think the boys are mad at reader so r begins to close off— happy ending w/ healthy communication, just them reassuring r
🤍you can absolutely ignore this!!
thank you baby! I'm so glad to have you here with me 😭 thanks for your request 🫶
poly!marauders x fem!reader
CW: insecurities, overthinking, belief of conflict, eventual healthy communication skills, men behaving rationally (that's how you know it's fiction) jkjkjkjkjk 👀
You knew you were overthinking; you could actually hear yourself spiraling as you chewed aggressively on your cuticles. You ran through every single interaction you and the boys had throughout the past few days and couldn’t help but come to the same conclusion every time.
They were mad at you.
And even saying it aloud made you feel silly because, really, what could you have possibly done that would have managed to upset all three of them without knowing about it?
There had been a few disagreements between the four of you since the beginning of the relationship; more specifically since you had joined the relationship.
The boys, it seemed, went through most of their more volatile fights prior to you meeting them.
But that didn’t mean there weren’t arguments. There were always differences of opinions, some hurt feelings, and learning everyone’s sensitivities and love languages etc. didn’t happen overnight; it took time.
One thing you were particularly thankful for was that you had yet to ever feel like the boys were ‘ganging up’ on you. Your argument always stayed between you and the participant of the conversation and everyone else opted to stay out of it unless they felt they could provide some helpful insight.
But for all of them to be mad at you without some big blow up happening? You couldn't imagine what would have caused it.
It wouldn’t have been anything you said or done to Sirius, as he was a very head strong person who preferred to face things upfront and head on. If you had done something wrong to Sirius, you would have heard about it.
James was a wild card since he usually wore his feelings on his sleeve, but he also had a tendency to paint a smile on his face and smile through the pain in order to keep the peace.
Remus was often stoic and the voice of reason, but you also knew he could be incredibly sensitive.
Oh god... had you done something to upset Remus? You must have...it’s the only rational explanation. He’d likely be telling Sirius not to say anything to you, and since Sirius struggled in biting his tongue, it would make sense that he opt for the “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” route.
And though James did tend to smile through the pain in order to keep the peace, he was also fiercely protective of his people – particularly when those people don’t seem inclined to stand up for themselves.
Oh god. Is this why they asked you to come over tonight? They wanted to talk to you...no, they wanted to break up with you.
By the time James opened the door, you had forgotten you even knocked. He was all bright smiles until he took in your form – he was disappointed to see you.
“Hello, honey. Come on in.” He said, though his words were stilted, sounding oddly scripted and rehearsed.
“Hey sweets!” Sirius called from somewhere in their flat, “have you eaten yet?”
“Yeah.” You called back, having to clear your throat when your voice came out gravelly. You could feel James’ eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.
“Moony’s running late from work, but he’ll be home soon.” James announced as he ushered you into the living room.
You scanned your surroundings, cataloguing everything like it might be your last time in here.
You found signs of Remus’ love of trinkets and the oddities everywhere you looked, as well as signs of James and Sirius feeding into that by bringing him home things they’ve found as well. There’s a small pewter fox you bought on your trip to the coast sitting on one of the shelves of his bookcase.
Picture frames lined the walls; evidence of Sirius’ love for photography, his camera, and his favourite people.
And the god-awful pillow James found at an estate sale and insisted it have a place on the couch. It was ugly, it was lumpy, it didn’t match with anything else in the space, but it was James’ and he loved it.
Sirius came bounding into the room and rubbed at James’ shoulder affectionately, pecking a quick kiss to the crown of your head in hello before breezing by to head to the kitchen.
“He just got a home a few moments ago, he’s gonna heat up some leftovers for him and for Remus when he gets home.” James explained.
“Do you want any, doll?” Sirius called.
“No, I’m okay. Thank you!” You tried your best to sound upbeat while a horrid feeling settled in your stomach.
James seemed to feel just as awkward as you did; keeping his eyes dutifully on you whilst trying to appear that he wasn��t. His leg bounced anxiously underneath him as he leaned onto the arm of the grandfather chair he sat in – across the room from you.
It may as well have been an ocean worth of distance with the way it left you feeling.
Sirius returned to the living room a few moments later and made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch from you, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table after placing a glass of water directly on the coffee table. You wanted to chide him, knowing Remus would have him by the bollocks if he saw, but you didn’t know if it was your place anymore.
Sirius asked you how your day at work was and you offered him a vague “oh it was alright. Long. How about yours?” which started him on a long tangent about some of his more colourful customers today and how tiresome he found people in general. He and James shared some quips and anecdotes about worst moments in their various retail experiences, and you thought about how much you were going to miss this.
“Okay, what is going on?” Sirius snapped abruptly, causing your head to shoot up so quickly that you heard it crack.
“Huh?” You asked sheepishly.
Sirius’ brows furrowed as he stole a glance at James before turning back to you. “You’re being weird...what’s going on with you?”
But you didn’t get a chance to answer when the sound of the front door alerted everyone to Remus’ arrival. You hated that you visibly tensed at the sound of him moving down the hall.
“Hey bubs. Is she here?” You heard him ask James, since you and Sirius couldn’t yet see him nor he you from his position in the hall way.
You felt your face scrunch up miserably and quickly brought your hands up to shield your face, choking out a silent sob.
“Yeah.” James responded, though his voice was but a whisper as Sirius added a “whoa” at the same time.
“What did you guys do?” Remus cooed and made his way towards you having spotted your distress.
“I’m sorry.” You muttered miserably, both for whatever you’d done to cause this conflict between the four of you and also for your embarrassing display of emotions.
“What are you sorry for, dovey?” Remus asked softly as he knelt in front of you, gently taking your wrists and coaxing them away from your face.
“For upsetting you all.”
Remus’ brows furrowed beyond their worried state and into a more confused state as he turned to look at the other two boys in bemusement.
“Well, I don’t think any of us are happy that you’re so upset, love, but we’re not upset. You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed.
“I don’t think that’s what this is.” James input from his place across the room.
“I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure why you’re mad at me, but I’d like to talk about it with you and I promise not to do it again.” You cried, sounding disturbingly and embarrassingly close to begging.
“Mad at you? Is that why you’ve been such a weirdo tonight? You thought we were mad at you?” Sirius asked incredulously.
“Don’t call her a weirdo, Pads!” James chided, standing from his chair.
“Why’d you think everyone was mad at you, dove?” Remus asked, ignoring the squawking of his boyfriends behind him as he forced you to hold eye contact with him.
“I... I don’t know, I guess things just felt kind of off this week and then...I don’t know.” You admitted dumbly. “And then I got here and, it just felt weird.”
“I’m sorry, angel.” James apologized, suddenly beside you having taken to sitting directly on top of (a very petulant) Sirius. “You seemed distressed and... I got nervous. Usually, Rem is the better one at handling these things, I wanted to wait until he got here to broach the subject. Sirius, though, has the tact of a bull.”
“So, you were just going to let all of us sit here awkwardly until Remus got here to save the day, huh? Not on my fucking watch.” Sirius groaned as he positioned himself to kick James not only off of him, but off the couch completely. This caused Sirius’ glass of water to topple off the coffee table and onto the rug below it.
“Nice going, Prongs,” Sirius spat victoriously from his place on the couch, “look at the mess you’ve made.”
“It wasn’t even my cup!” James defended.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wasn’t on a fuckin' coaster, Sirius.” Remus reproached darkly, tossing the dark-haired boy a glare over his shoulder.
Sirius just smirked and then winked at you. “There you go, dollface, now everyone’s mad at me instead.”
“Awe, Pads!” James cooed from the ground before launching himself back onto Sirius. “Look at you, taking the heat off our pretty girl.”
Remus shook his head in exhaustion, but you could see a fond smile ghosting his lips from his place before you.
“Trust me, dove. You’re the least of our problems.”
You chuckled wetly and wiped the tears (and more embarrassingly, the snot) from your face. “I’m sorry. I feel rather silly now.”
Sirius, having given up on his instance to be the little spoon between he and James, looked around James’ broad frame in his lap to face you. “How about this; if we’re ever upset with you, we promise to tell you. If we haven’t said anything; it’s safe to assume we’re not mad. Okay?”
You nodded in agreement.
“And...” James continued. “Next time you find yourself feeling like this, maybe you can tell us, too?”
You nodded emphatically. “Yes, I promise. I’m sorry.”
Remus kissed the backs of both of your hands and stood from his knelt position in front of you.
“No more sorry’s, dove. We’re all good.”
James stood from Sirius’ lap to place a warm kiss to the space between your cheek and ear and whispered another apology for your being upset.
“Hey, Moons?” Sirius called.
“Yeah?”
“Are you heading to the kitchen?” He called with the sort of smirk that caused you and James to exchange a suspicious look.
“Yeah.”
“Can you grab me a glass of water, please?”
“Fuckin’ hell Sirius get off your arse. And use a sodding coaster.” Remus bellowed from the bedroom.
“See? You’re the least of our problems.” James repeated, stamping another kiss to your cheek.
#ask elle#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#poly!marauders#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders drabble#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#james potter x reader#james potter x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#hurt/comfort#miscommunication#fluff#ellecdc fics
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Awful Things [TVA!Loki x Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE
Summary: Fresh off the interrogation, Loki is emboldened to make a move.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Heavy smut. Dom! Loki.Bondage, impact play. (w/c 2.8k)
You register your door pad beep through the clink of plates as you slide them into the sink. Strange, you think briefly. I didn’t think anyone else had the code.
Turning, you immediately collide with something hard and flat. But there was no mistaking the scent of him. “Loki!?” was all you could muster in shock, gripping the lip of your tiny kitchenette.
“I brought you some pie,” he growls, punctuating the statement by tossing it to the counter beside you.
His bicep presses against your own, hard as rock through the thick jacket hanging open at his torso. Those eyes that you’d studied so often were darker now. Deeper, somehow.
Dangerous.
“Everything okay?” you squeak.
There’s an energy radiating from him, a heat that seems to charge the air. It hums like static. The intoxicating scent of him wafts from the open top of his shirt, tie askew like he’d yanked it loose on his way here.
You clench.
“I just had a very...interesting experience” he rumbles, leaning towards you. His lips are an inch away from yours, tilting his chin upwards as he looms appraisingly. You realise you haven’t been breathing.
“O...Oh?” you gasp, as he presses his body closer.
His chin lies nestled to his collarbone, the popped collar of his jacket framing hollowed cheekbones that flex as he breathes in and out through his nose. His trunk is so solid and flat you’d swear it was marble if you couldn’t feel the beat of his heart through his shirt.
“You don’t seem...yourself” you say cautiously, watching the ring of his pupils explode outward. You’re suddenly reminded of a wolf, stepping on a rabbit before it tears its neck out.
“I’m feeling more myself than I have in a...long time,” he purrs darkly.
Loki trails a long finger down your cheek, curling at the angle of your jaw and tipping your chin up to face him. There is a calculated pause.
“And do you know what I want to do?”
You shake your head, eyes wide like a virgin. Loki smirks, and it makes your pussy melt into your underwear.
He leans closer, inhaling against your hairline. His crotch rubs against you, a low rasping sigh escaping his lips as the weight of his cock drags against the bare skin between your standard issue loungewear set.
“I’ll give you a clue,” he rasps lower and dirtier than you thought possible. “It’s not eating that pie.”
His eyes narrow, and stay like that.
A curl has fallen down his forehead, black and slick and every bit as out of place as he is in your apartment. And yet – it belongs there.
The counter-top digs into your spine, Loki’s body crushing into your own with the mass of his towering form. You bring a hand to his chest, pressing lightly against the hot flesh you’ve longed for.
“What happened out there-?” you start, feeling desire slide between your thighs as he shakes his head with a chuckle.
“Someone reminded me of past transgressions,” he mutters, fingers toying with the sides of your top.
They slide beneath it, his large hands making quick work of cupping your breasts. The rough wool of his jacket grazes your nipples, hard and ripe for his attentions. His eyelids flutter as the flesh moulds to his touch, heavy cock pulsing.
“They reminded me of some terrible...awful things I’d done,” he enunciates slowly.
His eyes are alight with mischief, with seduction. Pure godhood is leaking from him like a vapour, saturating the air around you grown heavy with the humidity of sex.
“And it reminded me, of the terrible...awful things I wish to do to you.”
Your legs feel weak. And Loki can feel it too.
His hands slide quickly down your waist, casting the loose sweatpants you wear to the floor. You gasp, gripping the sides of his face and pulling him to you.
Whatever the reason, if this is your chance – you’re taking it.
In moments, his tongue jams into your mouth. It’s wild, unhinged- and for now, the notorious Loki Laufeyson is all you can feel. All you can breathe and taste – every sense alive with his urgency.
He seems to have known the curves of your body for a lifetime, dexterous fingers curling into the perfect dents as he hoists you into the air. Immediately your legs lock around his hips, the flat of his cock pressed against your eager, soaking cunt.
“Want me to go easy on you, little thing?” he groans as he spins you round. “Now is your chance.”
You decline between grunts as you force his face to yours, tugging at his slut-mussed curls. His chuckle vibrates against your teeth. “Good,” he utters quietly into your open mouth.
Suddenly a cool, flat surface presses against your back.
You cast a glance to the side, checking that you are still in fact in your sparse TVA studio. A flicker of green licks the floor beneath Loki’s feet, magic recoiling to its master now that its work is done. A shudder runs down your spine, hips bucking into the thick of his cock still tight beneath the pants.
“A little...theatre, for your initiation.” he purrs smugly as he raises a hand above your head and smacks the newly placed wooden beam twice.
It runs from the ceiling to the floor at the end of your bed. Before you have a chance to process, Loki tosses you to the mattress.
“On your knees, face me.”
You comply.
The wetness between your thighs is unbearable now, every involuntary clench of your pussy sending pathetic shock-waves of desire rippling across your skin.
“Take it off,” he rumbles as he lowers his chin again with a devastating glint. It flickers to the t-shirt.
You pull it over your head, casting it to the floor.
Satisfied, Loki raises a hand, curling his fingers. You can feel invisible binds licking around your wrists, winding and whispering against the skin. He pulls the fist towards him with a flourish – and by doing so, you.
Yanked forwards, your hands fly to either side of the beam.
They meet in the middle, a low hum of magic sizzling as Loki watches on. He widens his legs, the fabric of his trousers creasing and straining beneath the mass of muscle beneath. The triangular stance makes a whine snake from your throat, and a small smile twitches the corner of his mouth.
“Right where I’ve wanted you, all this time,” he hums while his fingers work his belt-buckle with aching slowness.
“Fuck me, Loki” you gasp desperately, clenching around air. It’s all you’ve wanted since the first time you laid eyes on him, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine this.
Loki chuckles mirthlessly, biting his lip. “Oh sweet one,” he coos darkly, “you know not what you ask.”
The leather slides from its holster with a rough hiss as you groan, resting your head against the beam. Anything. You would do anything.
Butterflies soar in your belly as the god loops the belt around one palm. With the other, he pops the button of his trousers, releasing his cock.
The obscene bulge you had only fantasised of as you writhed beneath your bedsheets under the cover of darkness lies tantalisingly in the grasp of his hand, pumping slowly back and forth as his head tilts.
Your tongue flattens, already imagining choking on it as he takes his pleasure; saliva dripping in whoreish swathes down your jaw.
“How like you this?” he growls while clasping his hands behind his back with a ceremonial stiffen. He shifts his feet on the floor while you squirm against the post. It's too much to take in.
A garbled moan is all you can manage as magic melts the thick jacket from his body, and then his shirt...and then his pants.
But the belt? That stays wound around one hand, the veins taut and thick and pulsing.
A thrill drops your stomach. You realise that before now, you had only ever met the shadow of Loki Laufeyson which stalked the halls of the TVA. A mirage, dulled by the weight of what he tried to suppress.
Now, somehow, he was free.
But there would be time for understanding later.
Loki paced naked around the beam, unwinding the belt from his palm. The muscles in his ass tighten and relax with ever careful pace, cock bobbing with every measured step, muscles in his thighs clenching as he inspects his meal. He’s hungry, it seems.
Thick valleys dip in the side of his waist, the ripple of thick shoulder muscle making your thighs tremble as you hold position.
“I want to make love to you,” Loki pondered as if to himself. “I want to pleasure you beyond an inch of your sanity, until you are breathless putty begging for release from your amorous torment.” He spins pointedly to face you, gaze afire with an aura you’ve only seen in the archives. “But not tonight,” he says.
Your cheek presses against the beam with a whimper, pussy throbbing. Anything.
He shakes the belt out with a dramatic flourish, looking at it and then to you with a jovial air of expectation. An eyebrow cocks. “Just one. For me” he purrs sweetly, undertones of velvet obsidian spicing the air between you.
“Two,” you gasp as you squirm.
Loki throws his head back in laughter, wild curls tickling down his shoulder-blades. He snaps back up, and with a single graceful bound he positions himself behind you on the bed. Large hands roam your body, biting kisses marking down your neck, your shoulders. There will be marks, you think. It is not a supposition, but a certainty.
He is everywhere at once, fingers trailing through your dripping sex while he utters the filthiest praises the timeline has ever known. The fact he desires you, is touching you – that simple act alone is almost too much to bear.
“I knew this day would come,” he whispers deviously as his lips and teeth make their procession down your spine, your hips, your ass. “An inevitability...perhaps” he groans before sucking the plump round of your ass with an obscene moan.
A whizz cuts the air as the belt lays claim to the soft curve with no warning, impact sending your hips flush to the beam with a snap.
You cry out his name, the biting pain followed by the moist slather of his tongue against the tender skin. He bites down, catching only a sliver between his teeth. Groaning against his prize, Loki slips his digits through your sopping folds.
“Good fucking girl,” he rasps wetly, thrumming your clit. Bucking against him, you try to slow time as his fingers go about their light work. It’s gentle. Too gentle.
“I knew we’d get along.” he smarms. You can feel his gluttonous smirk thick in the air.
He pulls away, the second smack of the belt coming down in the same precise location as the first.
You yelp, bracing against the beam while Loki moans behind you. He runs his palm across the skin, breathing heavily.
The god’s body presses against your own, flattening you against the pillar while you grunt his name into the wood. Condensation is forming on the grain, the heat making your eyes sting as keenly as your ass. Loki chuckles darkly.
A menacing thud sounds to your right as the belt is thrown to the floor, immediately followed by the curl of his fingers around your hips. A sharp inhale sears the back of your throat, realising what is to come.
Your only regret, is that you can’t see his face as he squeezes his huge cock inside your heat with a guttural gasp of air. Another time, you think optimistically; all other thoughts leaving your body as Loki releases a ragged, choking splutter.
He’s settled on his knees, guiding your pussy down his iron manhood with devastating slowness. Your ass meets the expanse of his thighs, the softness of your curves against his animalism making you feel like you might break. And perhaps you would.
He thrusts up with the precision of an executioner. Never in your most unhinged fantasies did you think being full of Loki's cock would feel this good. Make you feel this free.
The fingers of one hand twist in your hair, tugging it back. If you crane far enough, you can just see the bow of his jawline flex, his chin pointed to the ceiling. The veins in his neck strain, Adam’s apple tight and static with the clench of his teeth. Every filthy, whoreish grunt from his throat is heaven.
The stick of your arousal coats him, every squelch as he fucks into you making your eyes roll back. Your arms ache, but the thrill rising in your blood as orgasm bubbles makes it peel into oblivion.
“Who am I?” he growls, the tone seeping into the depth of your soul.
Words have left you, rattling around in a haze of pleasure and utter bemusement. Short gasps are all that come out, but Loki’s showmanship will not be thwarted.
“Who am I?” he repeats ceremonially, bottoming out with a punishing thrust.
You yank against the invisible binds, clenching around the root of his cock as he drags it out with a thundering groan. Every vein, every ridge of his manhood makes your soul ignite. “Loki-” you pant, muffled by the squash of your cheek against the wooden beam.
Another punishing thrust. If his fingertips weren’t digging so much into the dip of your hips, you were sure you’d hit the ceiling.
“Who?” he spits.
You feel a spray of venom hit between your shoulder blades, the violent smoulder of his eyes piecing the top of your spine as he rails you like a bitch in heat. His fingers curl around the nape of your neck, massaging gently as the fire between your legs reaches critical levels. It’s not a threat, it’s incentive.
Your lips part, climax threatening to undo you from the inside out. And somehow, you know what he wants.
“God of Mis-mischief – urgh-ah, Loki...Laufeyson, God of..fuck, Mischief”
You and he moan in unison, rising orgasm shuddering your bodies as Loki’s stomach folds flush against your back.
The force of his primal need settles on your neck from his breath, twitching cock tugging inside your desperate pussy with shallow thrusts as he comes undone with a thunder of your name. The force of his seed hits like a flood, spurting against your fluttering walls as you clamp around his girth. A mess of shuddering, juddering, raw flesh.
He settles back on his calves, rocking you gently as he milks himself to completion.
All you can feel is the haze of his attention in your orgasm-addled state, hands massaging the spill of your sweat-damp breasts while blood thunders in your ears. You’re vaguely aware of him speaking.
“Sorry can you repeat that?” you murmur, tilting you chin. He’s right there, soft lips capturing yours in a messy kiss. It hurts your neck, but fuck...is it worth it.
“I said, I have to follow up on something,” he whispers conspiratorially.
His hand travels downwards, tucking between your legs before taking hold of the root of his cock still buried deep inside. You can feel it slide side-to-side, his fingers playing in the swell of hot cum from gathered there.
He brings the hand slowly upwards, scissoring his fingers. Strings of arousal glint in the low light as he hovers it in front of your mouth. Instinctually, you point out your tongue, leaning forwards to meet his fingers.
“Ah,” Loki breaths as you take both fingers between your lips, sucking gently; deep to the second knuckle.
His hips pump up gently, hot breath misting your ear as he buries his face in your neck. “F-fuck, little thing…” he rasps, “-you’re even more than I thought you’d be.”
Sliding his fingers from your mouth, he picks up the wisp of his train of thought. “This was more of a...flying visit.” he says. Your brow knits, trying in vain to tug your hands from the beam.
“But I shan’t be long. Believe me, I would rather be here. But what can I say, I am much in demand.”
The mattress shifts as Loki swings his legs over the bed, standing with a stretch. You watch the muscles in his back flex, every inch carved by the gods themselves. Naturally, you muse with a thrill as his freed cum drips lazily down your inner thighs.
“Forgetting something?” you purr, enjoying the slant of Loki’s brows as he turns. Your smile fades as that look crawls over his face again.
“Who am I?” he quips with a smirk.
Magic rolls over his body. The trousers unfurl, followed by his shirt and tie – as fresh as ever. There is a rustle of leather as his belt rears from the floor, and with a decadent click of his fingers, it slithers around his waist; cinching in. The brown jacket appears folded over his forearm.
Your brow furrows, yanking at the invisible binds. “Loki-” you say. It’s a warning, not a statement.
“Who am I?” he repeats, arching a brow.
You roll your eyes, teeth gritting. “Loki Laufeyson, God of Mischief.”
Loki smiles. The type of smile you’ve seen in the corridors many times. The type of smile that usually precedes something which increases your workload.
His gaze flickers from your face to the beam, hands still bound as he begins to pace backwards towards the door. He raises his palms in a gesture of feigned sympathy, a devious tug at one corner of his mouth betraying him.
“Always have been,” he smoulders, a wolfish grin spreading.
“Always will be.”
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chiron in the solar return houses
when reading a solar return chart, i always look at chiron’s placement. chiron can tell you where you’ll be struggling the most that year.
chiron never fails to give you a hard lesson, you cannot go against the lessons chiron has prepared for you. although this seems tough, once the pain and grief is experienced, you’ll be gifted with strength.
chiron in the first house
issues with self-identity. chiron in the first house can experience negative comments towards appearance and/or personality leading low self esteem. there can be an overall negative approach to life, a lack of optimism.
chiron in the second house
issues with material possessions. chiron in the second house can lead to tricky financial situations or just possessions stolen, this can cause a lot of physical and mental stress. there can also be issues in the work environment, things may be stressful.
chiron in the third house
issues with communication. chiron in the third house can cause miscommunication in both parties, the person with the placement and with other people. things said may be taken the wrong way. there can also be conflicts with siblings.
chiron in the fourth house
issues with family. chiron in the fourth house can cause conflicts in the family. family members can be fighting often or the person with the placement is fighting with family members. either way, instability will be found in relationships at home. this can also cause direct issues with the mother.
chiron in the fifth house
issues with finding happiness. chiron in the fifth house can cause a depressing year. it can be hard to enjoy things that are deemed as fun. there can also be a lack of creativity, this can cause a burnout, especially to someone with water placements.
chiron in the sixth house
issues in routine. chiron in the sixth house can cause life to feel somewhat dull. things can feel boring, there may be the feeling that the days are just repeating themselves. this can lead to a negative mindset, a decline in mental health. there can also be issues with physical or mental health.
chiron in the seventh house
issues in relationships. chiron in the seventh house can lead to romantic rejection. asking people out will often lead to getting declined. if one is already in a relationship, this can mean toxicity may arise in the relationship.
chiron in the eighth house
issues with maintaining positive energies. chiron in the eighth house creates a negative energy, not only can this harm the person with the placement, but also those surrounding them. this is happens due to the fact that energy is so contagious. there can also be issues with letting go, holding onto old experiences can contribute to the negative energy that was previously discussed.
chiron in the ninth house
issues in finding meaning/purpose in life. chiron in the ninth house can cause turbulence to philosophic beliefs. there may be many stressful thoughts relating to experiences of death and what happens after death. there can also be issues with higher education, such as college.
chiron in the tenth house
issues with reputation. chiron in the tenth house makes others jealous of ones status, therefore they try to sabotage. friends will often be hidden enemies. there can also be issues with a father figure.
chiron in the eleventh house
issues with friends. chiron in the eleventh house can bring negativity to friendships. either friends backstabbing or struggling to create friendships. this can also cause a negative experience with technology, something such as cyberbullying.
chiron in the twelfth house
issues in spiritually healing. chiron in the twelfth house drains spiritual energy, leading to a blockage in healing. this could lead to a negative mental space. there can also be issues with sleeping, a possibility of getting insomnia or having nightmares and experiencing sleep paralysis.
#astrology#astrology observations#astro observations#astro#astrology chart#astro chart#solar return chart#solar return#solar return observations#sr chart#chiron
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astrology notes: 19 ☼𓂃𓃗𓂃
quick note: i'm absolutely not an astrologer. these are just a collection of some observations, thoughts, theories, and personal experiences based on astrology. above all this is just for fun.
lastly, keep in mind that i’m not reading your birth chart and i know nothing about you. these are just some possibilities that may or may not apply to you. enjoy!
˚♡₊ pisces & them not knowing if something they remembered was from one of their day dreams or an actual dream they had.
˚♡₊ moon or chiron in the 2nd house can indicate an emotional eater. they can be someone who eats for comfort or just because they're bored.
˚♡₊ virgos are known to be judgmental towards other people & things but they’re judgmental towards themselves as well, being that they typically struggle with perfectionism. for this reason, they probably cringe at themselves and the things they’ve done quite often. they can be quite regretful and hard on themselves when they make a mistake. but virgo, you guys are imperfect just like everyone else who has lived and died. and although it may be easier said than done, breathe, live, and just be. try to view as your mistakes as an opportunity to learn & improve.
˚♡₊ asteroid juno (3) in 4th the house can make people think you’re the type to bring home to meet their mom/family.
˚♡₊ uranus in the 2nd, 5th, 8th, and 11th house can cause the native to feel frustrated and experience disturbance in those areas of life that are represented by those aforementioned houses. that’s because uranus is a planet that represents constant change and unpredictability & those houses are fixed houses that represent exactly what the name suggests, it’s fixed, it desires stability and regularity.
˚♡₊ capricorns are known to be controlling/bossy but aquarius tends to have those characteristics too. i’ve often seen it happen with their friends, like they can be the leader of the group and tell people what to do or they make decisions for others. i guess it’s the saturn influence since we know that cap is ruled by saturn & aquarius is traditionally ruled by saturn too.
˚♡₊ those with gemini moon are the type to laugh at themselves while they’re crying. and if they’re not, then they’re definitely going through it because it’s often hard for them to take themselves seriously like gemini risings, but in this case it’s more focused on their emotions.
˚♡₊ those with their venus aspecting saturn could be the type that always has a loved one/former loved one, like an ex, coming back even if it’s 6 years later. the person that tries to come back may realize what they had a little too late, they may realize that the loyalty & love you gave them was one of a kind and it’s hard for them to find that same or similar level of stability and commitment elsewhere.
˚♡₊ scorpio risings are lowkey mad funny because of their gemini in the 8th house, but especially if they have planets like sun, mercury, or moon there. & because it’s in the 8th house, it’s not something that many people know about them except for those that are close to them or those they have 8th house synastry with.
^ but when it comes to those with a gem rising or gemini in the 10th house, everyone thinks/knows they’re funny.
˚♡₊ uranus dominants or those with uranus in aspect to mercury/neptune may really enjoy reading/watching sci-fi & dystopian books/movies or tv shows.
˚♡₊ taurus moons are typically blessed with the ability to remain calm & grounded but their emotions can be a bit stubborn and linger for a while. it may take some time for them to get over a breakup or separation from someone they really love.
˚♡₊ those with chiron, pluto, or mercury retrograde in the 5th house could have stage fright. they may dislike doing presentations in school or at work. if they have to do something in the presence of others they’d rather it be in a group. but even if they are in a group, like a small choir, they’d prefer to stand in the back or behind others.
˚♡₊ the house where aries falls in your chart can show you the type of men you usually attract:
in the 1st house, if you’re a girl you may attract men who you’d describe as the male version of you, or men who are childish or younger than you.
in the 3rd house it could be your classmates, those in your neighborhood, or those that you see as more of a brother, even if they’re not related to you. for this reason, you may be quick to friend zone them.
in the 6th house it could be the men at your place of work who are always hitting on you or trying to flirt. or men that have an unexplainable desire to take care of you, they may see you as a damsel in distress.
in the 10th house it could be older men who are already established or successful. maybe you easily attract sugar daddies or men that just want to provide for you whether that be money, opportunities, or guidance.
in the 11th house your male friends may be the ones crushing on you or you attract men from all walks of life, meaning you might be "everyone's" type. even if you're not the type that some of these men may usually go for, they could be willing to ignore that when it comes to you.
in the 12th house you may have a lot of secret admirers and men that often day dream about you but won't tell you.
the attraction could be stronger or more noticeable with planets/asteroids like venus, mars, or eros in aries. & due to the characteristics of aries, these men may find you intimidating and they could be a bit scared to approach you at first, or they could come on to you a bit aggressively, or they just try too hard to get your attention.
˚♡₊ libras are the type to ask you if they should wear this or that, just to choose the opposite of what you chose or they’ll go and ask someone else 😂. sometimes another person’s input is helpful & sometimes it only makes them even more indecisive.
if you read this until the end i hope you enjoyed it & thank you so much for reading. ♥︎♥︎♥︎, those hearts are for you.
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SKZ AS SUBS - MAKNAE LINE 🥀
as the self-proclaimed sub!skz ambassador, i felt the need to share my version to the internet just because this was boiling inside of my brain for too long, so... i am sorry ♡
content warning: sub!skz, dom!fem reader, unprotected sex, mention of subspace, dacryphilia, perv tendencies, overstimulation, light BDSM, boob sucking, mommy kink, noona kink, anal play (m receiving), cross dressing, feet play, lactation kink, food play, dumbification, pet play, choking, breeding kink, cum play, virgin, reversed corruption kink, sex toys, masturbation, oral sex (both receiving)
HYUNG LINE MAKNAE LINE
➛ Han
- whiny™️. the word whiny was created for hannie himself. he becomes a sobbing mess after just one second of you touching him, even if it's not sexual;
- dacryphilia will soon become one of your biggest kinks, even if you didn't explore it before meeting him. he cries, pants, sobs and hiccups at every slight friction and will plead to not to stop, ever;
- tears are not the only thing making your boy messy. because he also drools. a lot. he does it when he is on top of you, face hidden in the crook of your neck, and when it's you topping him, cheek pressed into the soaked pillow under his head;
- with hannie you are gonna have multiple rounds almost everytime. he doesn't last too much, poor angel, because he is always overwhelmed with how warm and tight and wet you feel and he just cannot hold himself. he recovers very fast though, and he will happily suck you into his mouth in those few minutes of waiting;
- be prepared, because he is horny 24/7, and gets pussydrunk very quickly. he is up to anything you can give him? handjob before going to work? quickie in the restroom? filthy audios to keep him satiated? he wants it all;
- he has slight perv tendencies. it's consensual of course, and you told him multiple times that you are perfectly fine with everything he does, but he likes to pretend you don't know. the rush of adrenaline he gets by stealing your panties to bring them to work and taking dirty photos of you when you are not looking makes him feel dirty, and he likes it;
- since he cums really quickly and he is very horny all the times, i can see him being into overstimulation. he will beg you to keep circling the palm of your hand on his cockhead until he almost squirms away, and then he will cum for a second time in a few seconds;
- he has a filthy mouth, and he won't shut up under any circumstance. your neighbors probably hate you;
- he likes to be as submissive and yours as possible. he loves being your little toy to play with, and he will often ask you to finger his mouth as if it was his pussy, and to tie him so he cannot move to much and be completely under your control;
- he prefers when you ride him. he loves seeing you ravishing him and milk him dry, but especially because he just can't get enough of your boobs. when you stay on top he can bury his face on them and suckle at your nipples until your chest is all covered in drool;
- kind of obvious but he has a mommy kink/noona kink, and calling you that while you are fucking him makes his brain feel floaty and fuzzed. "Please noona, oh f-fuck, please - ah nnghh - p-please mama, mommy, let me cum, mama - uhh".
- he is into anal play, but for him. hannie will ask you to finger him, fuck him with your strap, rim him and put a plug in his cute wiggly butt at least once a week. he feels like your princess like that, he cannot help it.
➛ Felix
- here we have him, angel boy lixie. the softest, the sweetest, the embodiment of love. just a look at him and you would give him the entire universe;
- just as binnie, i think that also felix would be into cross dressing. he buys all the pink lacey underwear that he can find on the internet, and he pairs them with pleated skirts and high stokings;
- he will also add a few cute ribbons on his hair, and maybe a little bit of make up too. a rosey eyeshadow, shiny highlighter and glossy lipstick, better if sticky. he will let you fuck him without taking anything off, just pull the panties apart and slide his puffy cockhead on your folds until he cums prettily all over himself;
- he loves you so much he almost worships you. whenerver he is intimate with you, you will always find him looking at you fondly, tears almost prickling his eyes. he cannot help it, he just feels so much when you are together that he cannot believe how lucky he is;
- lixie has particular kinks, but he loves every single inch of you, and he will make sure to let you know. i have the feeling he would love feet stuff a little bit more than he wants to admit. especially when you are chilling on the sofa together, and your sole presses too close to his groin. he always feels a little aroused and filthy for the fact he enjoys this kind of stimulation;
- another mommy kink enthusiast here. he loves being cuddled and pampered by you. the nickname falls naturally out of his lips whenever you give him pleasure, and he sounds so innocent while doing it that it becomes an habit also out of the bedroom;
- lixie loves your breasts. he massage them to fall asleep and he suck on them as a comfort whenever he feels a little bit overwhelmed or fuzzy into his headspace. he like to be babied like that, to be lulled in your arms while he suckles softly on your nipples with pouted lips;
- and this led to his lactation kink. he is not ashamed of asking you to pretend to brestfeed him whenever he is stressed out. "b-baby please, gimme your milk, it was an awful day, p-please";
- he will need a lot of physical touch, such as holding hands, hugging and kissing. He loves every position in which he can be as close to you as he can;
- he wants and gives baby talk all the time. every cute nickname is okay for him, but his favorite are love, angel, sweetheart and sugar;
- definively into food play. he will take every chance to play with you while cooking and baking, sweet hiccups while you twirl your tongue on the head of his honey-dripping cock and lap at his sweet balls underneath;
- talks in 3rd person while in subspace. "uh- mommy, a-angel.. lix -uggghn- l-lixie is cumming, oh god, lixie is c-cumming".
➛ Seungmin
- i am a strong believer that seungmin is the hardest sub of all the boys. whenever he is in the bedroom his personality will shift drastically until he becomes a brainless needy thing;
- minnie is always so stoic and composed in real life that he just needs to let go. sex for him is the only way he can empty his head and give you the absolute control of his body;
- that's why he immediately falls into his subspace as soon as you get intimate with each other. he cannot conceive any other way of loving you than to give you complete power over him;
- i can see him being into light humiliation and dumbification. minnie needs to be useful for you and he will do anything to fulfill your desires. he gets off on the feeling of being your toy and your sexual object, and the embarassment he feels whenever you call him your dumb thing makes his head spin;
- for this exact reason, he is into pet play as well. he loves to be reduced as a silly puppy who needs to earn his treats. whenever you make him kneel in front of you to take food directly from your hands, his cock is always red and leaky against his lap. you often let him hump your calf and stop him just before he cums just to see him crying and pleading for you;
- after a few months, he will probably ask you to explore choking on him. you establish a few rules and safe words before you try that, and the way he just mewls while you lightly restrain his breath will convince you to do it more often;
- minnie needs to be owned. he will ask you to give him a tiny collar with your name on it, and he will wear it everywhere, even at work, hidden under his clothes;
- he always follows your orders diligently, but he enjoys his punishments a little bit too much as well. he pretends not to, because he wants to be your good pup, but he cannot hide the way his wet cock almost drools with precum every time your hand slap the soft fat of his butt, or the back of his balls;
- being so utterly in love with you, he will quickly develop a breeding kink. he cannot hold himself whenever he hears your voice tempting him, and he will cum the hardest if you combine it with a little degradation. "is my little pup ready to breed? mmh... i'm not sure. dumb pup is so weak to fill me up with his cum, isn't he? but you can try, puppy, you can try stuffing me full of your babies."
- and, of course, he is the weakest for cum play. especially if you let him lap his own release out of your folds after he emptied his load inside of you;
- another non verbal baby. as soon as you start pleasuring him, he will not be able to form a single sentence anymore. just sighs, sobs, soft moans and mewls;
➛ I.N
- here we go, another sub enthusiast here!! sweet, lovely innie is so happy of being with you that just cannot wait to try everything that he can;
- i can see him being a virgin before meeting you. not because he didn't have the opportunity of experiencing sex with anyone, but because he wanted to wait for his true love and be as confortable as possible;
- that's why he quickly develops a reversed corruption kink. innie wants - no, he needs - you to ruin him for good. he wants to feel little and inexperienced under your gaze. he wants to know that you are there for him, to teach him and guide him until he knows how to pleasure and be pleasured;
- after the first stages, he becomes unsatiable. he will ask for you to fuck him multiple times a day. poor baby will make up for all the time he lost!;
- he wants to try as many sex toys as he can. he will probably buy a bunch randomly without even know how to use them, and then place them neatly on your bed while waiting for you to show him the way they work;
- he gets pussydrunk pretty fast. he loves eating you out and fingering you the most. as soon as he is confident enough, he will ask you to sit on his face and ride his tongue until you cum on him;
- the prettiest soft grunts while you ride him or you manhandle him, "uh, nnnngh, ff-fuck, ahhh, oh g-god";
- thigh guy for sure. he goes crazy every time he sees you in a short skirt or in a tight pair of jeans. he will look at your legs so much he will almost go crossed-eye and will mentally pray for you to suffocate him with them as soon as you come back home;
- he loves to watch you masturbating. he will sit obediently at the foot of your bed, enraptured by the schlick sound of your fingers pushing in and out of your wet pussy, baby boy almost salivating at the sight;
- call him a simple guy, but he cums the hardest with sloppy blowjobs. he knows he has to stay still, but he usually cannot handle it till you give him permission and will end up thrusting in your mouth just a couple of times before you smack his ass and bring him back to his place;
- another noona lover here. he just loves the feeling of your experienced hands guiding him into pure bliss and to be called your pretty little boy;
- "noona, what was that? oh-ohhh g-god that feels amazing, p-please do it again."
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©️ jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.
#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids sub#skz sub#sub skz#sub stray kids#sub!stray kids#sub!skz#skz x female reader#skz x you#skz x y/n#han jisung smut#sub han jisung#sub!han jisung#han jisung sub#felix smut#felix sub#sub felix#sub!felix#sub seungmin#seungmin smut#sub!seungmin#seungmin sub#i.n smut#sub!i.n#sub i.n#i.n sub#skz hard thoughts#stray kids hard thoughts
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a dad!simon scenario that @ghostslillady planted in my head awhile back that i can't stop thinking about and figured i'd share with you guys <3
dad!simon gives you twin boys and they are an utter handful. from the very moment they're born, they're getting into trouble, but it's nothing simon can't handle. it's not uncommon to see him holding both boys at once, as they fit perfectly in his arms. and god, you almost give him another child the first time you see him do this. the way he does it so effortlessly, how he quietly mumbles his thoughts to them as he goes about his day, turns you on in a way you don't think you could ever admit to him.
dad!simon insists on putting the boys into football the moment they're old enough. at first you were worried about them getting hurt, as they're toddlers after all, but when you see them running around on the field, their cleats slightly too big and their shin guards slipping with every step, you can't help but coo about how adorable they are.
dad!simon, on the other hand, doesn't coo at them. he's shouting, cheering, clapping his hands every time one of them scores a goal. you're certain he intimidates the other parents, but no one dares to tell him to quiet it down. every time they win a game, simon lifts both boys onto his shoulders and parades them around the field until their stomachs hurt from giggling so hard. no matter if they win or lose, he always treats the whole family to dinner or lunch after the games, because hard work should always be rewarded <3
dad!simon is a smart man, but the new methods of doing simple elementary level math dumbfounds this man. "why do all those fancy steps?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed. "it's how the teacher showed us," one of them responds. "goddamn waste of paper, that way," he curses. you make sure to have a talk with him about how often he uses "foul language" around the boys. you're honestly surprised their first words weren't "fuck" or "shit."
dad!simon gets you pregnant again by the time the boys turn four, and honestly you were surprised it didn't happen sooner. this pregnancy is much easier to deal with as it's not twins, and the two of you are pleased to find out its a girl. when she's born, simon holds her like she's the most precious thing in the world, and your boys are just as gentle with her. taking turns holding her with your supervision, placing kisses on top of her head just like they saw their daddy do.
dad!simon and you go to every single one of her dance recitals the moment she's old enough to be enrolled. she stumbles across the stage with the grace of a newborn fawn, and yet simon and the boys are clapping and whistling the loudest out of anyone in the crowd. he buys her flowers, which the boys end up stealing in order to give to her themselves.
dad!simon gave your boys his height, and they make sure to bring it up at any possible opportunity. always putting things too high up on the shelves, or leaning their elbows on top of your head. they've also picked up on simon's dry humor, and dinner time conversation is usually filled with a myriad of terrible puns and anti-jokes that leaves you rubbing your face and groaning. it only gets worse when your daughter joins in.
dad!simon and you worry a little bit about your kids as they get old enough to date. especially your daughter, who's too kind and sweet for her own good. so when the two of you get called to the school one day because the boys got into a fist fight with some other kid, neither of you were exactly surprised. figuring they had been fighting over some girl, you were taken aback to hear that they threw punches because of something someone said about their sister. "he called her a cunt because she wouldn't go out with him!" one of them exclaims, causing the teacher to gasp at such a vile word. "no one calls our sister that and gets away with it," the other one finishes. that was all simon needed to hear in order to excuse their behavior. he buys them the new video game they've been begging you get them as a prize. "good behavior should be rewarded," he says to you with a slight smirk.
dad!simon doesn't tone down his affection when you're around the kids. of course he's not doing anything grossly inappropriate, but he doesn't hide the quick kisses he gives you, and he's always surprising you with hugs from behind while you're chatting with the kids or making dinner. always giving you gifts, to his beautiful wife who gave him such an amazing family. and this rubs off on your children. the boys always treat their partners with the utmost respect, and your daughter knows not to take any shit from anyone who would make her feel smaller for being a girl.
dad!simon and you watch as your children grow up into amazing people, taking the world head on by themselves. he forever thanks you for giving him everything he could have ever asked for, something he thought would be forever out of his reach. and there's something a little bittersweet about the fact that they're no longer living at home with you, having become full grown adults with their own lives to live, but the cycle begins all over again by the time your first grandchild is born <3
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Astrology Observations: Taurus Edition 🐂
🌷 Taurus Suns, Taurus Moons and Taurus Risings all specialize in the realm of the senses, the physical and aesthetic plane, but they do it differently from one another
Taurus Sun is the gardener. It's a pursuit that requires patience, persistence, and that unfolds slowly. These people know how to plant a metaphorical seed, water it, and allow it to grow. They are usually excellent manifestors, even though a) they may not actually see it as manifestation, just a steadfast desire to create the life they want and b) their manifestations may take especially long to materialize. But, like a gardener, it is only a matter of time until they have the most luscious plants and beautiful flowers. Taurus Suns are destined for material abundance. It's their birthright! (And if this is your Sun sign, you should actually get into growing plants or flowers. It would be really great for you!)
Taurus Moon is the chef. They can take a lot of ingredients and combine them to make something delicious and comforting. People with this Moon sign are often excellent in the kitchen. If not, they're huge foodies and the way to their heart is through their stomach. They also seem to have an instinct for what needs to be added into a situation. It's like their special secret ingredient but others will come to recognize it with time. It may be their humor, their stable energy, their warmth, or their level-headed ways. But, it's some sort of trait they have that nourishes and comforts others. Taurus Moon people are typically nurturing or supportive but not in such an emotional way. When they ask "what do you need?", they mean physical things. It could be a hug, advice, their quality time or money (many of them are pretty financially generous)
Taurus Rising is the artist. They see beauty all around them and want to replicate that into some form. Many of them will actually be very artistic. They could have a lovely singing voice. But, in many cases, their form of art will be more physical than emotionally expressive, as in drawings, paintings, photography, possibly even sculpture or pottery. Visual art. They themselves are walking visual art. Much like their sister placement, Libra Rising, they are either very physically attractive or they have a really lovely aura that makes them very attractive, even if they're not conventionally good-looking. They will also put time and effort into their appearance but it's low key. Like a masterpiece in a museum, they draw you in quietly, slowly yet undeniably.
🌷 Venus in Taurus people tend to be very vain and enamored with themselves, especially women or people with a lot of feminine energy. But, they also need to make sure they are very secure in themselves, too. If not, they could become very jealous or territorial. Whatever they believe is "theirs", whether it's attention or a partner or career status, when they're being low-vibrational, they will feel very easily threatened or overly possessive. However, when they are secure in themselves, they possess amazing self-love and can really pour into other people unselfishly.
🌷 Taurus people, especially those with their Sun or Moon or Rising in this sign, do have terrible tempers. They tend to have a long fuse and they are calm or chill most of the time. But, when they are properly provoked, they are capable of going off in a way that brings down the house. It's like a storm, like they are channeling Mother Nature herself, and they can go dark or even get violent. But, they are aware of this and try to restrain this part of themselves
🌷 Mars in Taurus men are traditionally masculine in relationships. They are usually not "macho" in an obnoxious way. But, they have a very solid, protective, reliable energy with a mate. They have provider energy, especially since they really prioritize their financial security. Yet, because of this, they tend to prefer a mate who will play a more conventionally feminine role. No matter their sexual orientation, they are more drawn to a partner who will either be a "housewife" type or a very doting spouse
🌷 Taurus Risings very often get "thick" as they get older. It's not looked at as weight gain in a negative way because they seem to put on weight in all the right ways/places. So, people may prefer them when they are a little meatier (and they may also like themselves better this way). But, they are just as beautiful in their "skinny era"
🌷 Mercury in Taurus individuals just like simple conversation. They really find pleasure in talking, even if they're not necessarily talkative or talking about much of importance. So, they can make what would normally be a boring subject or tedious social setting really enjoyable. They are super-easy to talk to and love to laugh
🌷 There is just something SO elegant about famous actors with their Sun in Taurus: Cate Blanchett, Daniel Day Lewis, Michelle Pfeiffer, George Clooney, to name a few. They just come off as incredibly classy and respectable, like they're of a distinguished breed, which shows the innate elegance that Taurus Suns are capable of.
🌷 People with Taurus placements can simultaneously be very connected to their intuitive/psychic abilities but very unaware of them. Taurus is the opposite sign of Scorpio, an overwhelmingly psychic energy. Taurus can have super-heightened senses and, therefore, easily develop clairaudience, clairvoyance, claircognizance or clairsentience. After all, those abilities are just ways of harnessing psychic energy through the senses. But, because Taurus is more focused on what is tangible or provable, they may be oblivious to their psychic abilities or highly uneasy with them (unless they have a strong Water influence)
🌷 Taurus Moons can potentially be just as codependent with their mother figure as Cancer Moons can be, especially if they have harsh aspects to their Moon. In toxic cases, the mother or child may be too financially reliant on the other. Or, less dramatically, it can just be a case of feeling like your stability or peace depends on your mother's input. When Taurus Moons remember that their sense of security must come from within, the relationship will become healthier
/////////
Thanks for stopping by! You can check out my other posts and readings here:
MASTER LIST
#astrology#astrology observations#astro notes#astro observations#taurus#taurus placements#taurus stellium#taurus sun#sun in taurus#taurus energy#taurus moon#moon in taurus#taurus rising#taurus ascendant#mercury in taurus#venus in taurus#mars in taurus
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She…what? Chapter Two
Lando Norris x reader, hints at Daniel Ricciardo x reader
2.6k words SMUT
Chapter One | Series Masterlist
"Oh Lando, I can't give you everything now, then nothing will bring you back." Her words never left his mind, it truly infected him. Lando knew, that no matter what, he would see her again; from just a kiss he was addicted. He climbed out of bed slowly, annoyed with himself for being so hard at the thought of her. It was early, even for him, Wednesdays were often more taxing than the actual race, the first few hours were perfectly fine, but then the repeat questions would get irritating and Lando would slowly lose his patience. His feet padded loudly towards the shower, hard cock aching, his eyes were barely open as he stepped past the glass door, hot water relaxing him. He felt every muscle in his body relax as soon as his hand reached his cock. Every time Lando masturbated he did, relatively, the same thing, a tight grip and a fast pace. His forehead hit the wall softly as a quiet sigh escaped his mouth. He could feel the build up of ecstasy already, clearly still excited from his dream.
It felt almost lucid, the feeling of her cunt around his cock, or the scratches against his back. She was screaming his name in pleasure as the bed below them became surreally wet as she convulsed around him and writhing below him. Almost as if it was all real, until the alarm of his hotel neighbour awoke him. This was the first time that Lando had ever dreamed, so he was surprised that he even remembered it. But he was the most shocked that he was masturbating to it, this was the first time, in a while, that he was touching himself without some form of porn in front of him. Maybe that's why he was already so close to the edge. Squeezing his cock tight as his hand jerked up and down faster than before, loud huffs and groans leaving his mouth, echoing off the walls. Lando was barely able to control himself now, imagining her cum, the thought of her mouth wide open pushed him to the edge, he painted the wall white with a choked moan. "Fuck." He was out of breath, practically gasping for air.
A blush rose to his cheeks at the thought of what he just did. Lando made quick work of washing his curls, sure he was a little hazed, but he needed to rid of his thoughts as quickly as possible. He was clad in his usual McLaren polo as he rushed out of the Hilton room, if it wasn't for his neighbour's alarm he would have been late. He closed the door with haste and walked as fast as physically possible, not wanting to give Oscar the satisfaction of arriving at the motorhome before him. As he reached the lift he was met with a familiar smile. "Morning, Lando. Sleep alright?" Daniel was far too happy at such an hour, he pushed the ground floor button and braced for the unusual movement. "Yeah, it was alright. Just a bit worried about the car is all." That was a lie, Lando had slept great, other than the pain of waking hard. "It seems you had quite the eventful night." Lando huffed, motioning to his neck. A slight wave of panic washed over Daniel before he began to button up his shirt further. "Morning actually." Lando groan was all that could be heard, "Good head?" Daniel laughed manically as his spine became parallel to the the ground. The door opened and they walked out slowly. "Don't be jealous, you'll find out soon."
They walked through the paddock almost peacefully, ignoring the world around them, this was until Daniel had reached his team and they had to part ways. Without noise, the thoughts of her came rushing back, Lando reached for his phone and headphones and panicked upon seeing the time. He practically ran towards Mclaren, receiving strange looks from those around him. Once he reached the door he was met with Oscar who had a large smirk on his face. "I'm keeping count, you know that?" Petty is not a word many would use to describe the Australian driver, but Lando was resisting the urge, a disappointed look adorned his face. "Are you alright, Mate?" They didn't have an extremely close relationship for a while, and both were to blame. Lando was upset that Daniel wasn't his teammate anymore, just as he was with Carlos, and so was a bit standoffish, often making the unconscious decision not to start convocations with Oscar, but he would never be outright mean or dismissive. Oscar on the other hand was quite shy, mostly due to his nerves and introverted nature. They were almost complete opposites and that could be difficult to work with. But eventually, after being forced to spend time with each other, they got relatively close. Oscar even stating he was closest with Lando on the grid. "I'm fine, just a bit distracted is all." Lando explained, rubbing his eyes as if he was tired. "Yeah I can tell." Oscar laughed, unzipping his hoodie and handing it to Lando, who was completely baffled. The Australian nodded his head down, and muffled another giggle with his hand. "Thanks...That's fucking embarrassing." Oscar slapped his shoulder lightly, "Nah, not if they've got you that excited... New partner?" Lando shook his head as they made their way to the meeting room, "We aren't together, but its hard not to think of her. Genuinely I can't stop." The conversation was making Lando feel worse, He'd only known her for a few days, yet here he is, walking around work hard, talking to his teammate about a woman he's not even hooked up with. "You'll be alright, I'm excited to meet her." Oscar winked while letting out a light laugh, knowing Lando wasn't too great at speaking to women, not that he was one to talk.
After the fifth question about the comparison of this years car and the last Lando became angsty and sluggish. He was bored and in all honesty just wanted to be in the car, racing 19 others, desperate to win. His spine was curved slightly and his mind wandered; thinking about anything but the car. His microphone picked up the vibration of his phone. Lando was grateful that they were all being dismissed, so he could go back to the hotel and relax, maybe sleep a little more. Daniel walked past Lando and simply stated "Talk to you later, yeah?" He knew Lando needed so assurance and support, not just within racing, but also with this relationship of sorts. "Yeah, definitely." What they both missed was Oscar's piercing gaze, he was close enough that he could see them talking, but far enough that he couldn't hear the words. Nevertheless, Lando grabbed his things and began walking to his hotel, finally unlocking his phone.
"I'll see you tonight, room 693"
Lando was excited, usually the unknown sparked fear, but not Lando, he couldn't help but smile widely in the lift. He was filled with Deja vu when he finally approached the door, bouncing slightly to ease the nerves. He knocked quietly just before the door opened and was met with her, and oh gorgeous she was. "Hello Lando." She gestured for him to come in, and he raised an eyebrow, seeing her fully dressed. He wasn't particularly sure as to what he was expecting, but this room was almost completely empty. Lando stilled and looked behind him, noticing the door was closed, yet she was nowhere to be found. "I saw your interviews, well only some, I don't know how you do it." She practically appeared before him, and his shoulders lowered as he began to relax, enjoying the warm tone of her voice. He could listen to her speak for hours, he wanted to, Lando wanted to hear everything she had to say, everything about her. "You've been working so hard. How about I reward you?" She questioned with a sweet smile as she dropped to her knees.
"Oh yeah?" Her only response was a quiet hum as she ran her hands over his thighs teasing him slightly, not that he needed it. She could feel the tightening of his muscles as she danced cross his body, she tapped lightly a few times, waiting to se if he would break, testing his patience, but he didn't whine, beg or even comment, he just let her continue her venture. In reality it took Lando everything he had not to make a noise, he was focused on feeling her. He wanted to remember every moment. She pulled on the hoodie around his waist, inspecting it before throwing it across the room. "Who's is this?" Lando was pulled out his trance at the question yet it took him a moment to form a coherent sentence. "It's Oscar's, my teammate." The clarification gave her a moment to pause, before touching him again; She palmed his impossibly hard cock through his trousers, pulling a low moan- that he tried to cover up with a slightly louder groan. She made a mental note that she needed to encourage his voice more, but that was an issue for later.
"Do you like him?" Lando's mind was clouded, the feeling of release was coursing through his body, and it made thinking difficult, so she asked again, pausing her movements, hoping to receive an answer. "Yeah, he's alright." He struggled finishing the last part of the sentence as she began to pull the zip of his trousers down. "He must be more than alright, if he's giving you his things for no reason." She simply stated, look up at Lando, who's eyes were closed, one hand in his hair, tugging on it slightly. "Well, he didn't give it to me for no reason." She stilled her movements, waiting for him to continue, " I um.. You said no judging right?" He was apprehensive to even think about it, let alone say. "Of course." Her hands rested against her thighs as soon as she noticed the blush on his cheeks. "He...noticed that I was hard and you know, didn't think letting me embarrass myself was a good idea." Lando felt like a small weight was lifted off his chest, letting go a a breath he was unaware he was even holding. "Why were you so hard then? hm." She said in a flirty tone, pulling his boxers down, getting excited when she saw his cock bounce slightly, hitting his abdomen. "You...even just the thought of you." She was taken aback from his statement, this feeling was accompanied with a sense of flattery. No one had ever said such a thing to her face, she could feel an ache developing in her lower body, but she pushed that thought to the side, choosing to focus on Lando. "I'm pleased that you feel so strongly, Lando. If I'm honest, I haven't been able to stop thinking of you. It's been so hard to focus." She emphasised the 'so' in a rather teasing tone while grasping the shaft of his cock lightly, keeping the grip loose. She began to stroke slowly, teasing lightly, waiting for a noise to slip from his lips.
"Please, I've been hard for hours." It wasn't much of a beg from the driver, yet he couldn't help but comply. She licked a long slow stripe along the underside of his cock, which earned a choked moan and a curse of her name. She was quick to slip the tip past her lips and lick with a light pressure, careful not to overstimulate him, he placed a hand on the top of her head, careful not to push down, not knowing whether she liked it or not. She sucked the tip for a few moments before beginning to bob her head, taking about half of him into her mouth, creating a vacuum every few bobs. Lando's breath was already becoming ragged ,those breaths became gasps when the sensitive head brushed the top of her mouth. Her jaw didn't even become tired, yet she could already feel him twitching, the grip on her head becoming harder. "Please, need to so bad, baby." Lando was barely able to choke out. He could feel his, muscles tensing and hips thrusting so slightly in desperation. She made the quick decision to focus on the tip and suck harder, and faster. Lando's huffs and groans became louder until he could no longer take it, tipping over the edge unexpectedly, ecstasy filling his body as one final groan left his mouth before he was panting. As soon as she felt his cum touch her tongue she slowed, but didn't stop, draining him the best she could. "Ah fuck, Baby, so good."
She pulled away smiling, joyful was the only way to describe her reaction. Lando's face was painted with bliss as he smiled so softly, joining her on the floor. He kissed her cheek sweetly before burying his head in her neck, wrapping his arms around her body. Pulling her close, causing them to fall backwards, her chest flush with his. Lando's hand slid down towards her cunt, but she caught his wrist quickly. "Not yet, Baby. You need some rest." She whispered kissing him softly. "You really are a tease." He laughed, hugging her tighter as she slapped his chest. They stayed there for a while, Lando was basking in her presence, just enjoying her. He didn't want to ever leave, feeling elated was making it hard for him, he knew that he'd struggle to be away from her, Lando was truly enchanted. Eventually, she fell asleep against him so Lando made quick work of picking her up, and walking her to the bed, she looked peaceful and he felt wrong for wanting to disturb her. With her body placed gently under the covers, Lando kissed her softly before walking as quiet as possible and gently closing the door behind himself.
Lando walked down the hallway free of care as he looked for Daniel's ,room, excited to tell him about his endeavours. He knocked twice and waited for the Australian to open the door. He was met with white enchante jumper. "Hey." Lando said, matching Daniel's smile. "It seems you've had quite the eventful evening." Daniel laughed as Lando walked in. "So...I was right?" They sat at opposite ends of the bed as Lando began his little rant. "I'm still in awe, I've never had head that good, I'm just struggling to comprehend it." Lando was giddy, more so than usual. They talked for a while, mostly about her, and what she could do. But it was quickly getting late and they still needed to prepare for the practice the following day. Lando begrudgingly stood up and walked towards the door. "Lando." Daniel raised his voice slightly to grab the attention of the other driver. "Just you wait." He smirked.
As soon as the door closed he was reaching for his phone, ready to call her. "Hello?" She struggled to get out. "Oh were you asleep?" Daniel almost whispered out, faking sympathy. "Yeah, it's okay though. Are you alright? Usually you come barging into my room when you want something." He laughed as he laid his head against the pillow. "Well, technically it's my room." She couldn't argue with him there, he paid for all her hotels and flights whenever there was a race, or if there wasn't a race, he'd make sure she was with him. "Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice." She giggled at his blatant lie as she slipped the McLaren hoodie over her shoulders. "Okay, Okay. I'm just making sure you're still up for tomorrow morning. See I even have my hand or my heart."
"Of course, anything for you Danny."
#f1 x reader#f1 smut#f1 x reader smut#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#lando norris x reader#daniel ricciardo smut#lando norris smut#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#lando norris#daniel ricciardo x reader
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