#a belated valentines i guess | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vivalabunbun · 2 months

Text

As We Are, We Will Be

Summary: A nonsensical question is proposed in one singular moment between a stoic and stoic face in one singular universe.

Word Count: 9k (It was supposed to be short and sweet-)

Tags: Alhaitham X Fem! Reader, Smut, NSFW, Fluff, a lot of fluff, slight angst, soulmate au, slow fic, established relationship, married life, Soft! Alhaitham, attempts at comedy, mentions of aging, slightly jealous! Alhaitham, mutual pinning, soft sex, vanilla, safe sex (wrap it up), riding (cowgirl), fingering, slow sex, making love, really bad expatiations of scientific theories and math, just two nerds in love.

Authors Note: Happy belated birthday and Valentine's Day to my favorite dendro nerd. A continuation of this piece, one I hold dear. A thought experiment based on nothing more than the feverish delirium of love.

It was just for a moment.

A mere pasting instance in the contentious momentum of time when a glimmer caught your eyes in the muddled chatter of a crowd, a silver shimmer like starlight.

Interrupting your contemplation as your eyes impulsively search for the source.

A late morning on a Saturday, the markets and stalls were lively with families replenishing a week's worth of groceries. Bodies veering and easing through the bustle of the busty streets.

The wide breadth of life that moved all around you. Like a collection of small dots within the vastness of a universe.

But amid the vast collection of blurry faces were the flicker of silvery locks refracting the late morning light. Originating from a pair, an elderly lady and an elderly man, their aged hands intertwined.

Time had made her marks upon them, and gravity had pulled down on their wrinkled faces. Yet, the ends of their lips were pointed toward the sky. The corners of their eyes wrinkled as their gazes held each other's faces.

From their view, do they not see the starlight hue of their hair? Instead, do they still see the vibrancy and youth of their locks which age had stolen from them?

The image of each other reflected in their irises, was it from a time before the hands of gravity pulled on their creased skin and bowed bones? Would you ever be able to find out?

“I wasn’t aware you had a hobby of people-watching.” A baritone voice ghosts over your ear.

Jolting your head to your right, you come face to face with the interruption. Or perhaps, your mind finally registered Alhaitham’s presence just off to the side of you. His arms were weighted down with various bags.

Oh, that’s right, the markets and stalls were lively on the weekend with families restocking groceries for the upcoming week. You and Alhaitham were no different.

Glancing up at his ashen trestles and then scanning back at the starlight locks of the elderly couple, and then back to your husband.

“Hmm, not quite. Just noting the fact your hair is the same color as an old man’s, Haitham.” You catch the subtle twitch of his brow.

“Is that so? I hope you are aware you’re not immune to the inevitably of aging, wife,” Alhaitham returns your jest.

“Well, with your hair color and grumpiness, I’d say you’re already halfway there.”

“I needn’t expound on your equivalent levels of grumpiness, it won’t be long before your locks share the same ashen hue.”

“I guess that’s why we get along then, dear husband.”

“That’s one theory,” he huffs, a simple tone lacking any bite.

You pan your face back toward the crowd, partly because it’s getting harder to hold the neutral position of your lips, partly because your curiosity aches for an untold conclusion.

However, when your gaze returned to the ever-bustling sea of people, the pair of starlight hues were nowhere to be found. It was regrettable, but expected, the elderly couple were nothing more than a pair of strangers in a crowd full of unfamiliar faces.

They were just a brief scene that disappeared into the moving tides of people.

Leaving you with your unresolved musings.

“Is there anything else we need for the week?”

Alhaitham’s voice reels your consciousness back, swiftly you check the crinkled slip of parchment within your hand. Scanning down the list of written items, all with a neat little line crossed through their immaculately penned letters.

“It looks like we got everything we need.” You tuck the list into your pocket.

“Then it’s best we get home before our groceries are spoiled by the heat.” Alhaitham readjusts the bags in his hands.

A hum takes its place as your response. Pivoting your body in the direction of your shared home. From the corner of your field of view, his strides were paced to coincide with your shorter steps.

Studying the numerous bags occupying his hands, you can’t help but think it’s quite convenient to have someone as robust as your husband. Maybe it's these weekly grocery runs that are the secret behind his physique.

Discreetly, your hand slowly slips between the gap of his arm and body, linking your elbows together. So that your frame and his could withstand the push and pull of the crowd’s contentious momentum.

The neutrality of your lips had long slipped away, softened by the familiarity of his warmth. Even as your eyes were pointed on the path ahead, you had an inkling that a similar occurrence was mirrored on his lips as well.

An inquiry your curiosity didn’t need to peek to resolve.

That ache for an untold conclusion morphed into a new musing by the afternoon.

The silver shimmer from that elderly couple’s hair truly was like starlight. Perhaps that’s the correlation that steered your thoughts down this winding path of pondering.

Everyone, from those taking their first stumbling steps of youth to the slowed cane-assisted tramps in their golden years, is technically billions of years old. Or more accurately, the atoms and minerals in everyone are billions of years old.

The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood were all forged in the hearts of bygone stars. When those bright beacons burned out they exploded in one last finale, expelling those materials across interstellar space. Stardust that found its way here.

Here within you, and here within the slow breaths of the man in front of you.

After being around for billions of years, does stardust ever get exhausted?

That would be a sensible explanation for why Alhaitham had snuck away amidst hanging up freshly washed laundry.

His tall frame stretched the expanse of the couch as his starlight lashes were shut, shamelessly relishing in a nap under the streams of sunlight trickled in from the window.

Squatting down you observe the guiltless expression plastered over his resting face, still deep in the trenches of sleep, a small huff passes through your lips. Well, this morning you did have him carry all the groceries from the market back home.

Your husband does deserve this little nap.

Trailing your eyes down his neck you note the lack of a pillow, then as your gaze travels further you note the absence of a blanket as well. Internally, your mind tsks at this forgetful habit of his.

Although his body and yours still have youth coursing through your veins, it doesn’t mean they’ll remain as impervious as they are now later down the line, especially if preventative measures aren’t taken.

Like having a pillow to support one’s neck, or a blanket to prevent chills from plaguing the body.

Standing back to full height, you retrieved the missing artifacts, returning with a plush pillow and light comforter.

Even when his head was momentarily lifted to make space for the pillow, and when the spare comforter was draped over him, Alhaitham didn’t stir one bit. At times you can’t determine if he’s a light sleeper or if his stubbornness refuses to leave the plain of dreams.

It’s a true wonder of life how Alhaitham’s able to sleep so soundly at night given his extensive naps.

The vivid sunlight illuminated patterns upon his cheeks and trestles, causing the ashen strands to dazzle in their refraction of the afternoon light. A sight your eyes just couldn’t help but be enraptured by.

Maybe you could blame the warmth of the sunlight, or maybe the serenity of this quiet Saturday afternoon, or perhaps even these fickle inquiries about his naps for the yawn that left your lips. Now might be the prime time for some research.

Lifting up the comforter just enough for an opportunity to slip through, your body settles in the space right against his. It’s crowded on the couch, the cushions unprepared for two bodies to occupy its entirety, the open edge looming against your back.

Even after all the shuffling and pressing against his dozing frame, your husband didn’t budge a bit.

Leaden lashes still shut and lips set in that all too familiar line, chest rhythmically rising and falling in time with yours. The very image of unperturbedness under the blessing of sleep.

“You really are like an old man.”

At that mere jab, the corners of his lips tugged down while his eyes remained closed. A quick slip that confirmed your earlier suspicions.

“Who knew you were so talented in acting, Haitham,” you snicker.

A muscular arm soon enveloped your form, further pressing you against his chest as if to silence any more sardonic quips from entering his ears.

It was quite the challenge to stifle those giggles before they could erupt from your lips. Peeking up, there’s an ever-so-subtle lift at the corners of his mouth. An express which yours mirrored.

Studying the details of the lips just a breath away, a new musing worms its way into your thoughts:

When the hands of gravity and time start to pull down on his skin and yours the same, leaving wrinkles and creases in their wake, will the edges of his lips still curl like this?

Would yours mirror the same?

A second yawn sneaks past your lips as your lashes grow heavier with each fluttering blink. Claiming a corner of the pillow to lay your head upon, the seconds between each subsequent blink grew longer and longer until your lids were too heavy to lift.

Perhaps the stardust in your bones was exhausted, craving a short rest in his warmth.

--------------------------------

There’s something against your back and your legs are tangled in something, sensations which gradually alert your dozing sense back from the fog of slumber.

At first, you only had the strength to peek open one lid, then promptly shut it. But in the nothingness behind your eyelids, something was halting your limps from stretching the weariness out from themselves.

You tried again, this time fluttering both sets of lashes apart ever so slightly. There’s a dry film coating your throat and mouth, feeling the impressions of the couch cushions and bundled comforter imprinted into your skin.

What time was it?

Blinking away the haze of sleep just enough to notice how the golden rays of a star were missing. A gray overlay was plastered over the living room despite the ticking clock hands displaying that it was late afternoon.

Peering back through the window behind, observing the congregating insipid clouds blocking out the azure sky.

A sure sign of rain despite the morning forecast. Rain… wasn’t there something left unfinished on the clotheslines outside? The groggy recollection of responsibilities creeps into the forefront of your mind.

The reign of your weary limbs slowly returns, and your legs languidly attempt to stretch out from the reveal they were caught in. However, their movements only caused a pair of longer limbs to ensnarl them further.

Alhaitham’s legs promptly caught yours, stifling any prospect of escape.

Your displeased whine was responded with a disgruntled groan by the man keeping your body locked against his.

Wasn’t your back looming just about the edge of the couch when you fell asleep? So why are you in this position now?

Your body wedged between the plush backing of the couch and his solid frame, the comforter swaddling you also didn’t aid in your immobility. Brawny arm draped over your waist, halting your feeble squirms at freedom.

“The laundry,” you mumble.

“Later.” A blunt interjection from a groggy voice.

“It’s going to rain.”

“Less than a 30% chance.”

“Haitham…”

Your husband simply burrows his head deeper into the leveled pillow, likely an attempt to leverage the cushy material to block out your grievances. His ashen lashes still stubbornly shut, much to your displeasure.

“Alhaitham.”

No fluctuations in your volume nor tone, but it was enough for one teal eye to peek out from under ashen lashes. Trailing up to a subtle frown to the furrow between your brow, then finally meeting your unamused stare.

“Laundry,” you try again.

A silent stare down, one stone face gazing upon an equally stoic face, like an immovable object pressed against an equally immovable object.

Which one will defend their title of most stubborn today?

His chest expands with a deep breath, grasp enclosing around your waist before his teal gaze shamelessly vanishes behind closed lashes. Robust frame pinning you further to the back of the couch as he continues to ignore your huffy floundering.

“Release me, don’t you dare-”

Your grievance was soon muffled by a gentle hand pressing your cheek into his palatial chest. A move that stupefies the irksomeness bubbling within until it falls defeated into placidness.

“Whether it be now or later, they’ll be clean regardless, it’s quite comfortable right here.” The resonance of his voice vibrates in his chest.

You respond with a humbled grunt. In terms of strength you’d always lose to your feeble husband, wouldn’t you?

There’s no point in peering up, for the pleased satisfaction of his resting face would bring a sour taste to your tongue. Thus, you merely adjust your limbs, coiling your arms around to his back and pulling his form closer.

It’s crowded on the couch, it’ll be troublesome if Alhaitham were to slip off the edge if his back were to stray any further.

At this distance, entangled so closely together, the soft beats of his heart in time with yours like a rhythmic lullaby beckons the heavy to return to your eyelids.

The gentle drumming of his heartbeat coaxes out a final sigh from you, lashes descending down as your vision dims back into the realm of slumber.

Slow breaths and heartbeats homogenize into a tender duet, tranquil enough to distract from the sporadic pattering against the glass and gradually increase in consistency.

A less than 30% chance of rain doesn’t mean that there’s a greater than 70% chance of no rain. It’s merely a statistical probability of 0.01 units of more precipitation at a given area in the given forecast area in the time period specified.

Known as the precipitation probability, calculated based on two factors:

The forecaster's certainty that precipitation will form or move into the area X The areal coverage of precipitation that is expected, then multiplied by 100.

Thus, if the forecaster were 90% certain that 30% of the forecast area would receive rain, then the forecast displayed on screens would read as a 27% chance of rain.

A crucial bit of information that seemed to have slipped his mind midst a quiet afternoon.

A troublesome miscalculation Alhaitham tsks at internally as he wrings out the pillowcase into a sink before tossing it back into the washing machine. Button-down shirts and blouses, wrinkled from the process of twisting out as much rainwater as possible, sat in damp piles awaiting their turn to be rewashed.

As he measures out the detergent he can hear the rattles and clanks of the pot and pans from the kitchen. A late dinner in preparation, a task which was supposed to be his this week.

When he woke up to the pattering of rain drumming against the window panes, the afternoon long gone, it stirred an ever-so-sinking pit of dread. Second only to the unamused stare of his wife as she replicated an overconfident statement:

“Less than a 30% chance, Alhaitham?”

How unfortunate it all was, that the area where this quaint house resides was part of that 30% of the forecasted area.

Teal eyes watch the bedsheets whirl and fumble as they spin in the wash, contemplating the circumstance and further action.

There is only one spare bedding set in the closet, so it’d be wise to allow you to have it for tonight as all the sheets and covers get rewashed and dried.

Your bed is about the same size as his, so two bodies wouldn’t have an issue fitting. At this rate, the two of you just slept in whichever bed was the most convenient.

However, given the current state of things, Alhaitham wonders if he should prepare himself to brave tonight on his bare mattress with a flimsy spare blanket and pillow.

He might as well return to the couch for tonight if that was the case.

The accumulation of all the years of science, mathematics, and research, Alhaitham wonders if there was ever a bright mind who came up with a formula to calculate how displeased one’s wife is.

What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it be?

More specifics needed to be gathered, something the man couldn’t do in the refugee of the laundry room. Thus, Alhaitham must brave a journey into the kitchen. His slipper-clad footsteps are slow and methodical as the kitchen appears from around the corner of the hallway.

Sights honed in on your back as you stood by the stove, a rich aroma wafting through the air.

Sleep still dusted your hair, evident in the few unruly strands sticking up erratically on your head, you made no attempt at fixing it. One hand is too occupied with stirring the pot on the stove, and the other set upon your hip.

Your stance wasn’t exactly tipping the scales in his favor.

Cautiously, Alhaitham made his way to you. Stopping just a few paces as your eyes peer over your shoulder, stoic gaze halting him in place just a few paces away. The faded imprint of the crumpled blankets and couch cushions on your cheek.

His hand twitches with the urge to run his thumb along the impressions, but rationally warns him of the consequences.

“The laundry?” No discernable tone in your voice.

“Everything has been collected and wrung out, I’ll rewash everything tomorrow.” It’s best to answer your questions this time.

“Hmm, they were out in the rain for quite a while now. They were dripping out onto the floor when you brought them in.”

“I’ve mopped away any rain and mud tracked between the back door and laundry room.” Teal eyes quickly checked the aforementioned area to ensure they were pristine before returning to you.

“Hmm.” You turn back towards the stove.

The soft ticks of the clock accompany the waning drums of raindrops against the glass, the kitchen hood whirring as a ladle continues to stir in a pot. A quiet lull engulfed the home. Treading on the side of caution, Alhaitham inhales deeply.

Without opening the box, one will never be able to confirm to fate of Schrödinger's cat.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Hmm? Well, it’s raining tonight, what better to eat on a rainy night than some Sabz Meat Stew, no?”

He’s careful to not sigh too audibly, lest he goes to bed with a stomach half-full of instant noodles and that miffed stare of yours.

Alhaitham decides to hold his tongue as teal eyes continue to watch you add more spices to the pot. Studying how nicely the apron is tied around your waist.

But it wouldn’t be wise of him to stand so close when the fabric of his shirt was still damp with rainwater transferred to him by the soaked laundry and sky.

His chain of thought was interrupted by the chimes of your phone on the countertop, catching your eyes as well as his to peek at the over. A certain name is displayed across the screen. It’s as if the hands of fate wanted to throw more salt into his face.

Bahram (Manager)

It’s a Saturday night, for what reason would an employer need to contact an employee so late?

Alhaitham’s focus shifts to your gaze which is still honed in on the screen. A bitter tinge crawls up the tip of his tongue, threatening to spoil his appetite. Perhaps, he wouldn’t mind settling down in his bare bed with just a spare comforter without dinner tonight.

“Can you reject the call for me? He can wait until Monday to get me to resolve whatever he messed up,” you scoff before rolling your eyes back to the stove.

Swiftly he swipes to decline the call, let your voicemail remind Bahram of the concept of ‘off time’. The phone whirs again right after the first rejection, but he simply swipes decline again.

Pushing the device away with a bit too much satisfaction in his veins.

Glancing back at your frame, he lets out a sigh as he relents. Resting his head into the crook of your neck, careful to leave a bit of distance between your bodies and to not hamper your shoulder’s movement.

“Hm?” You hum expectantly.

“It was my oversight tonight.” A string of words a bit unfamiliar on his tongue, but stubbornness hasn’t been in his favor tonight.

“And?”

“I’ll be more cautious regarding naps.”

“Hmph.”

The lull returns, him resting his head on your shoulder and you continuing to watch over the stew. Teal eyes on you and your eyes on the stove. Until your shoulders raise with a deep inhale.

“Go get changed out of that wet shirt then set the table, this bastardized version of ‘soup’ will be ready in 20 minutes.” You reach for a skillet just off to the side.

He hums this time, the liberation from treading in suffocating lull tugs at the end of his lips. He surmises that laying his head against you for a few moments more won’t be so consequential.

The patter of raindrops still splattered against the glass panes of the window, drops which warped and blurred the scenery beyond the glass. Not that there’s any scenery to look at, not with the dreary clouds crowding the sky.

A heavy sigh huffs through your nose, curling onto your side as you adjust your pillow.

A filling dinner, a warm shower, and soft comforters. Factors that should contribute to a restful night’s sleep, or at the very least make your eyelids weary with the weight of lethargy.

Yes, perhaps those components should’ve granted you entry into the reprieve of a dream.

If it wasn’t for the fact you’ve intruded into the domain of slumber twice already today.

And the tempter who lured you to do so currently has his arm wrapped around your waist.

Alhaitham’s chest rises and falls against your back, soundly asleep without an ounce of guilt over the predicament he’s partly responsible for.

Lifting your head off the flattened pillow, your body twists around to fluff the stale stuffing back up before settling back to your position.

His body rested against yours just as it would any other night. But there’s a weight at the corners of your lips, one only grew heavier as your ears witnessed each content exhale resounding from the man who seemingly stole your sleep.

If you were crueler, you would’ve exiled Alhaitham to the couch or his barren mattress.

However, he’d probably sleep just fine regardless.

Canting your head up, you flip your pillow to the other side once more.

Your rolls and rhythm were abruptly interrupted by the clasp of two harsh hands pulling your hips into his, the contours of his rigor now digging into the plush of your ass. Forcing a stunned gasp up your throat.

“It seems like my wife has quite a bit of energy.” His timbre deeper from grogginess.

Ah, all the twisting and turning you did just to adjust the troublesome pillow must've disturbed him.

The softness of your ass cradled against his pelvis through the thin material of a button-down, an item borrowed from his closet that you’ve designated as sleepwear, and his sweatpants.

‘Serves him right.’

Your attempts to twist out from his iron-clad hold only ground your ass more against the stiffness, earning a grumble from his lips.

“Oh? And who’s fault is it?” You retort, still protesting in his hold.

Snaking one hand downwards Alhaitham presses against your lower stomach to arch your ass further into him. Leaning his face closer to yours.

“Do you want me to take responsibility?” His whisper ghosts over the shell of your ear.

You could feel the pads of his fingertips tracing under the loose button-down.

“Shouldn’t you resolve the issues you’ve caused?” A huff leaves you.

The outline of his shape pressed along your skin, the plushness of your bottom contrasting against the rigidity.

“I can say the same to you.”

The pads of his fingers trail up your heated skin, crawling along your torso, feathering touches alighting your senses like sparks. Massaging the tired yet restless muscles. You sigh in contentment.

The billowing button-down dragged up by his vascular hand, unveiling your skin to the cool sheets. Wandering touches slow as they rest in the valley of your breasts. His fingers enclose around one mount, gently twisting the defenseless nipple.

“H-hey! Hmph-“ Barely catching a moan before it fled past sealed lips.

“Hm?” His lips are now right next to your ears. “Surely you foresaw this, I’m just helping my wife with all her excess energy.”

His forgotten hand made its presence known as it kneaded your hips, cunning touches breaching under the feeble defenses of your panties. Effortlessly brushing them to the side, long fingers encroaching closer to their destination.

Your thighs react, squeezing together to prevent him from venturing further. Unfortunately, it was all in vain, for his fingertips already dipped into an all too familiar sap.

“See, you seem quite eager,” he taunts.

Stubbornly, your body attempts to buckle away from his influence. Face firmly pointed away from his lest he peeks at your heated cheeks.

Alhaitham abandons the perch on your breast, two large hands attempting to tame the bucks and rolls of your hips. He releases a slow sigh into the crook of your neck.

“Are you not feeling it tonight?” His hands remain where they were, but the strength missing.

At the lack of resistance, your hips seem to have lost interest in their writhing, staying within his yielding hold. Internally, you chiding your body for being so straightforward. The only thing blocking an answer from exiting your throat was that fickle ego of yours.

“Won’t you allow me to make up for my blunders today, wife?” He soothes his hand along your leg.

With that stubborn ego of yours still biting down on your tongue, you simply nod your head. Feeling the heat of your cheeks reflected to you by the pillow.

Permitting your thighs to give into the tow of his grasp. Allowing the grip of one large hand to pull your bent leg open, exposing your vulnerable cunt. Shielded from the view of the raindrops by a mere blanket.

The hand snaked under your waist took swift advantage of the oppurtunity. Sliding one firm finger down to part the fold of your slit as his warm hand cups your greed.

Alhaitham continued with the caresses of his fingers. Your lashes and lips pressed tightly shut, your leg still held in his tender hold. His slow breaths brush ghosting your skin.

He spreads the slick along your slit, the tips of his fingers ever so often knocking against the bud at the very top. Teal eyes catch the sudden jolts of your body every time it happens.

He moves his fingers downwards, slowly parting the now soft folds of your core. Feeling the subtle puckers of your entrance as his touch traced closer, more wetness dribbling out from the honeypot.

The tip of his finger now encircles the fluttering hole. Your hip subtly bucked into his hand, as if to lure him in a soundless plea.

Breaths getting deeper as your eyes follow his touch, the warm pad of his index finger twirling against your clit. Stoking a burgeoning fire with each slow circle. Your placid sighs fill the lull.

His middle finger ventures past the entrance of your satin walls welcomed with a lewd squelch. Curling his finger against slick walls to test the give, he wonders if this hidden oasis is etched into his shape yet.

Diligently, his digit continues to sink in and out of your weeping hole, making your teeth sink into the flesh of your bottom lip. The squelches increased in volume as trickles of nectar began pooling on the sheets. Walls clamping around a lonely finger, it wasn’t enough to quell that mounting heat within.

A second deft finger joined in, sliding past a hungry entrance. A tangled dance amongst gummy walls as they curled and stretched the space. The lewd squelches resounding in your ear, a whimper trapped in your throat. The heel of his warm palm now pressed flat against the soft mound of your cunt, every movement of his hand resulting in a grind against your clit.

Each grind causes a hot flash to shock throughout your body, starting from your curled toes to the very top of your head. The jostling of your hips and legs gradually expels the blanket off the bed.

“Mmph!” A whine from a sudden surge of bliss when his thick fingers curled against a spongy patch deep within.

“T-there! More there!”

Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being.

He gladly obliges. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls. Ensuring to grind against that spongey patch.

Your body twitches and flails in reaction. Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations.

Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.

Piqued by the sweet tune, Alhaitham watches the scrunch in your trembling brows. He repeats his actions, another mewl leaves your lips as your head leans further into his shoulder.

The mellow pace of his fingers suddenly amps up, retreating out only to clap back in as his palm presses into the twitching bud.

“Ah! Haitham.”

A pressure mounting up, a sirens call beckoning you closer and closer to a hazardous cliff’s edge. The only foundation for your sanity is thousand-count fabric, thus you twist the silk fibers as tremors overtake your body.

Walls clamping down to trap his thick digits inside as it spasms. Muscles tensing and quivering as your back arches away from his chest, parted lips with nothing choking past them.

Three thick fingers sink deeper into your pussy without a hint of resistance, as a reward he makes sure to roll your overstimulated clit in firm circles with his palms. Judging from the violent tremors in your legs, it seemed you were almost there.

Just at the cusp of rapture when your hand tangles into his ashen-locks, canting your head back so that your panting lips could capture his. Alhaitham returns to gesture with just as much fervor in his kiss, swallowing down your sweet mewls for himself.

With a singular gasp, the siren’s call had beckoned your sanity to drown in the murky depths. It’s as if you lost control of your body to the possession of pleasure.

Eyes rolled back and lips broke away as breathy moans escaped the prison of your throat, a haze heavy over your thoughts, pride long lost amongst the gale of an orgasm.

The beckoning depths of euphoria welcome your descent.

Your limp frame rests against him. A light layer of sweat coating your panting chest, blurred vision merging and blending the details of the ceiling above the bed.

Alhaitham coaxes the contractions of your core, riding out the waves of their squeezes and sucks against his fingers. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Entranced by the glimmering string of nectar stretching between his fingers and your oasis.

Trailing back up to your face, he notes the return of your hazy irises from their ogle of the bedroom ceiling.

“Better?” Teal gaze watching the pants of your chest as they steady.

‘No, not at all’, a statement just at the tip of your tongue, but your lips were busy attempting to grasp deep breaths. The surplus of vigor festering into unquenchable desire. To be closer, deeper, more. You needed more.

Where words fail, action must take its place. Even before your mind finishes up the scheme brewing within, your lips catch him off guard, plush lips embracing his in a tender waltz.

Your body rolls back so that your breast can press against his chest through the thin fabric of his stolen shirt.

At the tender caress of your kiss, teal eyes disappear behind ashen lashes, the clasp of his grip loosening. Allowing you the mobility to finally pull your body on top of his, lips never once parting until you were finally settled atop his broad body.

A certain stiffness makes its reintroduction against your roused clit.

Breaking the seal of the kiss as a line of salvia stretches between your tongues, arms pushing against his firm chest to prop your body up as you gaze down at him.

“Still have too much energy?” Haughty eyes peer into yours, yet you can see the ardor oh so thinly concealed behind the brilliant teal.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you the eager one?” You hum, rolling your hips against the rigidness trapped behind the prison of sweatpants.

“Hmm.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth.

Large hands feel down along the plumpness of your ass as they drag a flimsy bit of fabric down your thighs. Daintier hands pull down the hem of sweatpants and briefs.

A fair exchange. Him helping you out of those ruined panties, and you freeing him from a compressed prison of cloth. Discarded and forgotten along the floorboards as the fog of passion obscured them from further consideration.

His vascular hands slide down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs plant themselves on either side of his body. Alhaitham coaxes the hem of his stolen button-down just above your midriff. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your clit, glistening with temptation.

Lowering your hips a breathy sigh leaves his lips and yours as the ridges of his cock drag against your slick folds. A few slow rolls starting from his leaking tip sliding down, thick veins skimming against your swollen clit. Precum mixing with arousal in a sinful concoction along his length.

Perhaps he should convince you to participate in more naps if he knew it’d make you this excitable.

“Oh,” you hum aloud, pausing your hips as you reach over to the bedside table.

Pulling open the drawer and rustling about a box followed by the crinkling of foil. Holding up the corner of the packet to your lip, tearing the foil while your gaze held his. Taking your time in dragging the condom out from its package. Easing it down his length while your fingers traced along, feeling each twitch and shudder.

“You sure do know how to test my patience.”

“Hmm?” You feign innocence.

A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Alhaitham helps position his engorged tip at your dripping entrance. Your hand guides him while raising your hips.

Other hand pressing his chest down for support as your thighs sink back down, a shameful squelch accompanying heavy breaths as your walls welcome his cock’s fat head.

Weeping pussy engulfing his girth in bit by bit until you clit kisses his pelvis. Sending jolts of searing pleasure that caused your satin walls to twitch and tighten.

Releasing a breathy sigh as you gather your senses.

Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge before dropping back down. Earning low grunts and sighs each time your satin walls swallowed his girth. The rhythm of your hips is paced and controlled despite how Alhaitham’s fingers dug into your skin.

A whine living your drooling lips with each slap of his skin against your clit. Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. The bedframe creaks with each calculated movement, back and forth, back and forth the wood sings along.

Your head was light, intoxicated by a feverish potion of lust and desire. Feeling him reach the deepest depths, fat tip grinding against those spots which made your legs falter momentarily each time.

Utilizing the strength of both your arms now to support yourself. However, the jolts of pleasure that shot up your spine with each roll of your hips were too maddening to stop.

His calloused fingers massage circles into your hips. Squeezing the plush flesh to ground his sanity, watching your lewd face as you shamelessly bounced on him for your pleasure. Observing the subtle ripples with each slap of your hips and the jumps of your perky breast.

The ghostly touches of your fingers skim across his lips, prompting his eyes to connect with yours. Lush and glossy lips parted with your deep pants as your lust-hazed eyes peer down at him, unspoken plea inscribed within them. Who is he to not fulfill your desires?

Lurching his upper body up, he answers your plea, capturing your lips with his. Swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, deepening the kiss. A messy and feverish tangle as if to replace the air in your lungs with his.

Mewls and whimpers muffled by his skin, your hands moving to perch themselves on his broad shoulders. Your quivering legs grew limp as the strength of his hands took over. Barely processing the sweet nothings whispered as your core relishes in the fullness. Like an ache that’s been finally satisfied.

He wondered if tonight’s excessive vigor was fraying his control, or if your body was just this addictive.

By now any notion of decency and integrity has long left you, your hand clawing into his shoulders, marking him with the scars of rapture. A harsh thrust of his hips recoils through you, a wanton moan reverbing off the walls as it forces your tangled lips to part.

Tongue unable to produce anything other than strained moans, your head nods into his broad shoulder as your hips ground against his. The wet squelch announces the reciprocation of your walls.

The intervals of those unrelenting rams increasing between the tender thrusts, half-lidded eyes trained on the shivers of your body. Cock sliding against satin ridges of your wall. Grunts and pants reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open.

“Is this not enough?” You could feel the mirth in his whisper.

Closer, deeper, more. You want more. Walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming heat within you. Hips floundering in harmony with breathy mewls.

Pressing libidinous kisses along his throat feeling the vibrations of his grunts and pants, a deep chuckle was soon felt against your lips.

“Good grief you are a greedy little thing aren’t you.”

A deafening slam of skin resounds through the heavy air, swiftly followed by another and another. A new tempo in this waltz of passion takes over like a wave sweeping both of you out to a sea of indulgence.

Possessed by the desperation of chasing a white light, your hand rakes deeper into his toned arms. Seizing anything to prevent your mind from abandoning your sinful body as his girth twitches within your velvety folds.

Sanity like a foolish sailor who’s beckoned by the lure of a siren’s voice, uncaring of the rocks which will sink them to the very bottom of the bemused tides. Keening against your husband shamelessly, a shameless wife on the cusp of her second fall into ecstasy.

The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into the spark that lit your nerves alight. Toes arched into the air and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent babbles resounding through the room.

Your devious walls clamped around his dick with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling against his girth eager to quell your aching greed. It was too much.

His fingers claw into your soft hips, pressing your cunt flush against his hips with a sloppy slap of skin. The bulbous tip prodding against that weakness deep within you. Bruising grip holding your body in place as his lips crash back into yours.

Swallowing down his breathless groans with your sweet mewls and praddles.

A heat is spilled into the rubber, making your greedy walls quiver amidst the aftershocks of ecstasy. Alhaitham’s hips twitch with each subsequent rip of his orgasm, thrusting his length further into your crowded cavity with each one. The filthiness of it all prolongs your sinful depravity.

Chest expanding with pants, your lopsided shirt falling further down your shoulder. Your eyes return from seeing blinding white, exhaustion drenching each fiber of your body.

Limp figure crumbling against your husband as his back lays back on the creaking headboard. Even before your worn mind could conjure a coherent thought, your hands caress his starlight tresses.

As his own breath evades him Alhaitham releases one hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your smoldering skin, guiding your lips back to his.

Basking in the warmth forged between your bodies, between drumming heartbeats and breathless lungs.

Two bodies lay under silken sheets, skin freshly wiped clean of sweat as the crisp breeze brushed against the curtains gradually erasing the sinful haze. The cool air aids your rising and falling chest to pace itself.

Muscles and bones heavy with fatigue, yet your eyes couldn’t bring themselves to retire behind shut lids. Not when those dreary clouds have finally retreated.

The moon hangs high in the sky, finally free from the shroud of rain clouds, she sits among the twinkling dots. Twinkling dots were in actuality brilliant stars, some even larger and brighter than the beloved sun.

Glimmering lustrously as they traverse through the contentious vacuum of space and past other nameless stars. A scene from a late-morning market trip wanders its way back from the depths of your memory, bringing its musings with it.

“Something on your mind?” A timbre voice beckons your conscious mind back from its trek.

Teal eyes set upon yours as your heads rest on plush pillows, just a breath away from one another.

“Hm, just senseless musings.” Your gaze shifts away from the window.

In a changed world with millions of hands will your hands and his find each other to make two pairs of hands?

In a different time with a million pairs of legs, will your steps and his steps still coincide in time with each other

In a new life with a sea of new faces, will a stoic face and another stoic face spot each other in the crowd?

What is the likelihood of those odds?

“If you keep letting your thoughts fester, it’ll only bring trouble upon yourself in the morning from sleep deprivation.” He shifts his position, supporting his cheek on his fist as he stares down at your face.

You sigh because he spoke exactly what those whispers of rationale were urging you, but the scoffs of pride had deemed these rampant inquiries ‘childish’. However, it’s a bit hard to avoid his eyes now.

“I was just musing about the soulmates concept again,” you confess.

Alhaitham hums in curiosity.

“Do you…” You take a deep breath, forcing the hard-to-vocalize question from your tongue. “Do you think we’ll only be together in this life?”

He’s silent. Just the muted chorus of Summer crickets rejoicing over the conclusion of a rainstorm resounding through the space.

“In a different time, a different universe, or the next life, do you think we’ll be soulmates again?” You muster together the courage to peer up at his face.

“I don’t recall ever reading an article or paper related to this topic, so it’ll be convoluted to get an answer.” He brings his other hand to his face, signifying his musings.

Right, there isn’t even a definitive answer for what happens after life passes, an afterlife, a cycle, or nothing, no one knows. Was this the only universe where life exists or are there infinitely many far out there in the stars? Does anyone know?

Your hand pulls your blanket up to your face, partially to cover the growing shame creeping up your face. That haughty voice within was right, these baseless questions are silly and childish. Perhaps even too morbid to bring up so unprompted on this weekend night.

What were you expecting Alhaitham to even do? Did you want him to give you an answer? What can he even do? A question you can’t even begin to understand, why would you even expect him to have some solution prepared?

What to do now? Can you just take back your previous words from his memory, so he’ll just forget what you said? Maybe just ask him to quell any more mindless musings from plaguing you tonight by placing his lips on your forehead? So that you could finally drift into the realm of slumber.

However, is that temporary solution enough? Enough to stifle the contentions and riddles clattering together into a clamorous ruckus in your head? Could sleep even spare you from their tumult?

“The Membrane Multiverse Theory or reincarnation, hm, do you have any personal theories you’d like to share?” The sensation of his fingers grasping yours brings you back to reality.

Glancing at him with a quirk in your brow, you wait for him to continue.

“Who knows, maybe we’ll be the first to publish something for this topic.” His thumb runs along your knuckles.

“So, is there a speculation or possible rationale you feel particular to?” Teal eyes reconnect with yours.

“Well…” You sigh, relishing in the warmth of his hand as you concoct a half-baked theory.

“There’s stardust from stars that had burst billions of years ago, that have somehow ended up on this planet. Subsequently, every being on earth has the atoms of stars in them. So, naturally by the law of conservation, the earth is where the atoms of the human body will return.”

“Based on the law that atoms cannot be created or destroyed?” He drones.

“Yes, they all had to come from something before them. The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood. The atoms that make up you and I might become part of something else, or even of different people too.”

“Hm, that sounds probable.”

“But, then this brings up a whole new host of questions, such as, if the new people our atoms become a part of are even ‘us’? Will they ever meet? What if you become a tree and I a rock? What if the atoms of you end up on one side of Teyvat and I on the other end?”

You peer into his irises, but you were just searching for an answer that isn’t there.

For his beryl irises were impassive. But it was the impassive foundation you needed to ground your rambling thoughts and nonsensical musings into the desolate truth of it all.

The warmth of his hand slips away.

“Never mind, I suppose it’s the most logical to conclude that we’re just soulmates in this instance of time, in this universe, and only here.” Your hand closes over the empty space he left.

Maybe it’s wise to dismiss it as silly rambling and then withdraw from his indecipherable eyes. Is it too late to put this plan into motion now?

The weight of a muscular arm is draped over your waist, hand pulling you closer unlike your ploy to escape.

“But I have a few theories I haven’t shared yet.” He glances out toward the bedroom window.

“While the theory of reincarnation currently doesn’t have any solid scientific backing, in some way, the law of conservation of mass does give a bit of merit to that notion.” Alhaitham draws circles into the small of your back.

You hum in response.

“The atoms that created us will return to the earth after us and become a part of something or someone else’s molecular structure. A tree or a rock, a human or a beast, it’s all probable. However…” Beryl eyes return to meet yours.

“What’s stopping them from repeating the same molecular structures as right now?” He asks.

Maybe it was his turn to peer into your eyes to search for an answer, an answer currently brewing and forging between your united gazes.

“What’s stopping these atoms from returning to these exact molecular structures in the future? In a different time, the atoms of us now could one day in the far future come together again and make ‘us’ once more. Maybe just you, maybe just me, or maybe both at the same time.”

He frees his other hand from the duty of supporting his head, broad body settling down into the bed and blankets, allowing his face to move closer to your level upon his pillow.

“What’s the likelihood of those odds? Me and you again?” You ask.

Alhaitham pauses. All the bright minds of science, mathematics, and physics, have yet to come up with a formula to calculate such a thing.

What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it even be?

The ashen-haired man wasn’t sure, but there was at least a statistical observation that would provide some basis.

“A true 0% chance is an absolute impossibility, just as nothing can be proven absolutely 100%. Since we don't know the absolutes of time, existence, or physics. So, there’ll always be a non-zero chance.” Feeling the drums of your heartbeat against his chest.

“Then, when they do, I think I’ll spend my life pondering what could fit into the spaces between my fingers like this.” He slips his hand into the gaps of yours, intertwining them.

Then finally, he saw the smile he’d been yearning for rising on your lush lips. The ends of your eyes crinkle as it make its way to your irises as well. Your grip mirrors his as you nestle your face closer to his.

“You won’t get tired of this stoic face?” You taunt.

“Will you get tired of mine?” He counters.

Your shoulders quiver with stifled giggles.

“No, no I won’t,” you promise him.

“Then I won’t,” he promises back.

His larger hand brings yours closer to himself, all the while your attentive eyes watch failing to keep the curl of your lips under control.

“Any thoughts on the Membrane Multiverse Theory? How will your astute mind surmise the possibility of us laying like this somewhere else in the stars?” Honeyed-voice mimicking awe as your face inches closer.

“I believe I’ve shared enough, I’d much rather hear what your brilliant postulate is.” His tone casted with mirth, but the bite missing from teal eyes.

Letting a soft hum, your mind rifling through all the paragraphs and journals your hands had ever thumbed through.

The soft rhythm of his breaths kept time. Stringing the words together on your tongue, you hope this monologue of yours will provide some amusement for him.

“If universes are randomly put into 2 boxes of ‘yes’ and ‘no’, then on average the number of universes in each box would be the same. For every universe I’m not with you, there’ll be equally as many where I am with you.”

A coin toss, perhaps it was all just a coin toss after all. Whether or not the Akasha paired a stoic face with another stoic face, for the gaps of your fingers to fit his so perfectly.

It could have all been a coin toss, for one half to stumble upon the other half cruelly parted from them by the hands of unseen gods.

“Something akin to a bijection existing between both sets of universes?” He cross-examines.

“Maybe… If we were to assign one type ‘yes’ to a positive integer, and the other type ‘no’ to a negative integer, then perhaps we can construct a bijection from the positive and negative integers.” Your brow furrows in contemplation.

“If we submit this theory do you think the Akademiya would publish it?”

“Not likely, bijections are usually made between sets of elements like numbers, not sure if bijections can be applied to something like whole universes. I’m just hypothesising nonsense,” you sigh.

“But they did publish the nonsense known as The Lifespan of Love,” he interjects.

“Hm, then maybe there’s a non-zero chance they’ll publish our nonsense too.” You stifle a scoff.

“Hm,” Alhaitham hums in amused agreement.

His free hand pulls the covers further up over your frame then smoothing out the wrinkles. Observing the growing delays between your slowing blinks.

“Only you and I would turn pillow talk into an academic deliberation.” You couldn’t hold back the giggle any longer.

He sighs in agreement, nestling his head closer to yours on the plush pillows, teal gaze never once leaving yours.

“It’ll make any romantic keel over and die from how dry it is, wouldn’t it, Haitham?”

“I say let them.”

Scoffing and shaking your head at his crude declaration as a yawn slips past your lips, a conclusion to this nonsensical academic deliberation.

With one hand still intertwined in the tender grasp of another you pull Alhaitham closer. So that the spaces of your body could lay against the spaces of his.

The warmth of his skin mingling with the warmth of yours, pressed against one another. You drawing mindless shapes into his back, his hand tracing senseless ruins into yours.

Perhaps, an illogical attempt to echt memories into the stardust in your bodies.

So he and you could imprint the memory of each other into the very fibers of your beings. Then maybe someday when these atoms return to these exact molecular structures, they’ll remember this too.

The law of conservation of mass, the probabilities upon probabilities, and bijections used in an inconsequential pseudo-academic ramblings to no one but an audience of silent stars.

Alhaitham’s certain no academic publisher would spare a glance at them.

But this nonsensical instance in the continuum of time, feeling the rhythm of your heart on the other side of his chest next to his own, is his most precious epiphany.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

#vivalabunbunfics #alhaitham smut #genshin smut #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham fanfic #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x female reader #genshin x reader smut #alhaitham x reader smut #alhaitham x yn #alhaitham x you smut #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff #genshin soulmates au

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flokali · 2 months

Note

Hi!! I am brainrotting and cannot get it out of my mind, so I thought to share. A very simple thought.

Accolyte Zhongli. Very willing to please et cetera. But biting him? Like come on, biting a Dragon? Is it ownership? Is it playful bite? You know, the sudden urge to bite someone (or is it just me?). So biting a very willing Zhongli.

Sobbing. This will haunt me for a while.

Slight NSF_W

Thinking so many thoughts... happy belated valentines day every1 ><

Warnings: NB! Reader, yandere!Zhongli, SAGAU, implied Dom!Reader/Sub!Zhongli, unhealthy relationship dynamics, biting, soft-violence (?), possessive behavior, jealousy, ask to tag!

Dragons in Liyue are known to be loyal, fierce, and elegant; the stories always describe them as powerful beasts who are to be respected, with sincere hearts and wisdom beyond a mere mortal’s understanding.

In a way, such behaviors did translate to your acolyte, Zhongli. He was one of your oldest followers, not just in age but time serving you, over six millenia he has existed and can proudly state he’s worshiped you for most of it. You would think that the years would have mellowed him out, polished up the edges of his devotion, soothe the tempest in his heart into a much milder dribble, and yet – you knew very few of your acolytes who could rival the passion he seemed to hold towards you.

The relationship between you and all of your followers was strange, at least to you — going from a normal person to being worshiped as a God was not an easy process, much less in a world as different from your own as Teyvat was to Earth — however none were perhaps as strange as the relationship between you and Zhongli.

He is always at your side, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to sleep. At first, his insistence on being your attendant had been met with heavy resistance from the others but his stubbornness greatly overpowered their annoyance; no matter what rotation you were in, Zhongli was always by your side.

You knew of his vessel, Morax, the large dragon that he’d used to fake his death, and you knew that “Zhongli” wasn’t his true form – you just hadn’t guessed some traits would have seeped into the other form or maybe it was simply part of his personality.

He was possessive and overprotective over you, it was like an internal struggle between submission and the need to monopolize you was constantly going on in his head, yet he refused to outwardly admit it.

“I am simply concerned for you, Your Grace.” He’d say whenever you’d bring up his overbearing nature, considering that he and the rest viewed you as an all-powerful being, you’d think he’d have more trust in your ability to protect yourself. And yet, whenever he’s allowed, he’ll always attempt to deter you from leaving his side. At some point you realized it was probably for his sake rather than your own, but by then you had grown endeared to the man and decided to allow it anyway.

Even as your most loyal follower who you spent most of your days with, Zhongli had his quirks and habits about him that simply baffled you – no matter how many days you’d spent with the former Archon, there were just things he’d do and say that’d leave you questioning all you knew about him prior.

All you really knew about him before was reduced to what had been revealed in game, from the Traveler’s perspective and the NPC’s who’d speak about him. Meeting him and interacting with him quickly let you know that his personality, at least when directed towards you, was quite different from what you had assumed from your previous observations.

An example of such discrepancies was his obsessive need to please you.

The traditional Liyue clothes you once complimented him on? Most of his wardrobe has changed to include such attires more frequently. The hair accessory you bought him once when you traveled to Fontaine? You don’t think you’ve seen him without it since. That one time you complimented him when he wore warmer tones? It seems his closet has been rid of any other color.

It was unsettling if not a bit cute, who wouldn’t be a little bit flattered to know their opinion held such weight to a man such as Morax; but it was only a matter of time before it all escalated

Somewhere, at some point, your relationship with Zhongli changed – morphing into something more complex than you would have expected. You would soon wonder if he was classified more so as a lover or some sort of concubinus than a mere helper, his role as an attendant seeming more like a guise so he could spend his time with you each day.

Fleeting touches now lasted longer, the feeling of his hot gaze on you burned stronger with every passing moment, it was a natural escalation; kisses now were no longer restrained to the hand, they now landed on your lips, your cheeks, your neck, wandering hands found their home in your waist and the small of your back.

When he told you he loved you, you knew not if he spoke as a devotee or a lover.

It was during a heated make out session that you found out his weakness to being marked and claimed, much to your surprise. He’d been quite insistent on not leaving a single mark on your person, not a hickey or bite, you guessed it must have been a preference but never asked about it either. You decided that, for the time being, you would avoid the topic until it naturally came up - and up did it come.

You had been on top of him, sitting on his lap and caressing his hair as your lips danced with one another’s, his golden eyes were shut tight in pleasure as he let you use his lips and body as you wished. His hands rested on your waist, tightly gripping at your robes and skin as he desperately clung onto your body. Soft whines left his lips periodically, his breathing was quick and you could feel his heart beating where your chests met.

You playfully decided to trail kisses across his face, at first he whined when he felt the loss of your lips on his but he soon fell quiet – other than a few moans and whimpers – as you left open mouthed kisses into his skin and down his neck.

It’s there that, in the heat of the moment, you decide to bite his neck, leaving a small hickey on his flushed skin. His reaction is immediate; his head falls backwards, his whole body heats up and you feel something stiffen below you, his face burns a bright red as a loud moan escapes his lips. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into your skin to a point you are certain it’ll leave a mark, and his heartbeat quickens; pleasure basically radiates off of his body the minute your teeth nib at his neck.

You stop, teeth sunken into his skin and hand tangled in his hair, his reaction so lewd and surprising you become flustered and stop dead in your tracks.

Zhongli, however, only pulls you tighter into his body, using a hand to press your face deeper into his neck, as if urging you to use more force in your bite – timidly you give in and nibble into his flesh, further deepening the imprint of your teeth in his skin. His whole body feels hot to the touch, his mind feels hazy, your soft bites into his skin send shockwaves through him.

You had no idea what you were doing to him, did you? Or else you wouldn’t have been so careless when picking the spot, but it doesn’t matter, in this moment of intense pleasure, the former Archon decides to give into delusion and believe you knew the meaning behind biting a draconic being such as himself — and in the neck of all places as well.

Old traditions dictate that a bite mark, especially in the jugular or neck, was a sign of ownership. It was often that mates would mark each other in the neck with enough force to leave scars, sinking sharp teeth into one another with ironic tenderness. It showed trust and care for the other, both to be marked and leave a mark, as it required vulnerability and care from both parties. It was a deeply intimate act, one that would be reserved to life-long partners and mates, it was a gesture of possessiveness and devotion tinted with love.

If he were to be honest, Zhongli would have thought himself to be the one to mark you instead of the other way around, it’d been something he’d often fantasized at night before your arrival, and yet, as he felt your — significantly duller teeth — bite into him he could feel his admiration and love for you grow as he became yours; even if you may not have known.

He’d always imagined himself on top of you, your naked form beneath him, as he sunk his canines into your flesh until he tasted your holy blood. He’d imagined himself cradling your pleasure stricken body while you moaned his name, a sinful sound coming from a divine being. Instead, it is himself that lays within your grasp, panting in ecstasy as he holds himself back from coming completely undone and showing a depraved side of himself even he did not know of.

If he was honest, he almost wishes you’d draw blood, sink your teeth so deep into his skin it breaks layers of flesh and leaves a deep scar that could never heal – a sign of your favoritism and ownership, one that he could proudly say was unique to him. If only you weren’t so careful with him, so scared of hurting him; he means no offense, but your current form is significantly weaker than his and he’s survived wars most have not heard of; even if you wanted to sink your nails into his skin and carve your name into his body, he thinks his strength and shear devotion to you alone would prove the pain to be nonexistent.

A gasp of your name leaves his parted lips, it’s erotic - the way his pink lips let a symphony of pleasured sounds - a wave of hormones rushing through his body, sending his brain into overdrive.

You look up at him, not having expected such a lewd reaction, but the sight of his half-lidded eyes as they burn into your own sends a hot-buzz down your spine. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bloodied as he bites them, his bare chest is heaving up and down; the expression on his face is orgasmic. His loose hair sticks to his forehead as sweat runs down his temples, clearly your gesture had taken quite an effect on him.

You slowly remove your lips from their spot, about to question his reaction - wondering if you’d perhaps crossed a line, but he stops you with a crooked smile and warm hands against the back of your head.

“It is okay, Your Grace,” he whispers, tongue darting to wet his drying lips, he guides your head back into his neck, “bite me all you want, my neck is yours for the taking.”

You giggle a bit at his eagerness, feeling his hard-on press against your ass. You playfully adjust yourself in his lap, softly nipping at his neck before biting down in a new spot.

“Ha-ah,” he moans once more, you feel him startle beneath you, “don’t be afraid to draw out blood, either… in fact, please, feel free to do so.”

He can only hope you take on the challenge, eager to flaunt your lovely bites to Neuvillette and any poor soul that even so much as thinks of questioning his position in your life.

#๋࣭. ancient scrolls #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #male yandere #yandere zhongli #yandere sagau #yandere sagau zhongli #yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #sagau #yandere morax #yandere rex lapis #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin zhongli x reader

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urrockstar-xe · 2 months

Text

3 teen boys vs 1 pretty girl - j.m x fem!reader

posted feb 10th, 2024 10:24 pm

heres another belated v day post!! :D im working my way up guys look at me go, im running out of valentine themed songs though if you have recs and see this before the 14th pls send them to me!!

summary: John B and Pope have to help out JJ when he's under too much stress over a pretty girl, not proofread, use of Y/n.

masterlist

wordcount: 1.0k

JJ wasn’t one for romantics, never was, never will be. He’s never witnessed real romance outside of TV shows and movies, although now that he has, with his best friend falling in love, JJ still just didn’t quite get it.

Until he met You, of course, because every sweet, enchanting, and cheesy love story has to start with the player meeting the one.

The one that broke down every little wall with a soft smile and pretty eyes. The one who saves everything while simultaneously ruining it all.

At least in JJ’s eyes.

“Dude, just admit you like her” Pope’s words went in one ear and out the other as JJ groaned into the old pillow, dramatically falling onto John B’s couch. “I think he did, just not in a comprehensible way” John B chuckled, shoving JJ’s feet off of his lap.

JJ groaned once more before shifting positions and sitting up on the opposite end of JB. “I don’t know what it is, man. She comes in, introduces herself with a pretty little voice, batting her pretty little eyelashes, smiling a pretty little smile on her pretty little face.” JJ’s voice was laced with irritation, his friends just laughed in response.

“I think JJ thinks Y/n is pretty, Pope.” “No way, really?” Another round of laughter between the two boys made JJ scoff before chuckling a bit as well, he rubbed at his eyes.

JJ’s laughter ended with a sigh, “She’s makin’ me crazy.” John B smiled at his friend, nudging his shoulder. “They have that effect huh?” JB remarked, sharing a knowing look with Pope before Pope pulled JJ up off the couch.

“What am I gonna do? I mean, I gotta really wow this girl, man I mean, she’s perfect” JJ gushed as he stared back at his friend who merely smiled back and shook his head. “Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, why don’t you go work that out with John B and I’ll continue studying.” Pope proposed the idea as JB stood up, patting JJ on the back before nearly dragging him out of the chateau by the back of his hoodie.

“C’mon, we’re gonna make sure you get your girl by tomorrow night”

JJ and John B loaded up into the Twinkie, heading straight for the closest convenience store. JB distracted his lovelorn friend with loud music that the two teenage boys happily and obnoxiously sang along to. Once they finally pulled up to the store and went inside, John B led JJ to the aisle filled with red and pink colored cardboard, and heart-shaped candies.

“Dude, I don’t even know what kind of candy she likes,” JJ sighed, both boys scanning the wall of options. “This is gonna be harder than I thought.” John B mumbled.

“It’s all just one big guessing game-” John B got cut off by the store clerk noticing them.

“Maybank, I better not catch you stealin’ nothin'.” His gruffy booming voice caught their attention, heads turning towards the sound in sync. “Course not, Mr. Wade!” JJ waved, a small smile on his lips as the clerk shook his head and went back to his initial goal, leaving them alone once more.

JJ watched as John B grabbed one of the blue baskets and started throwing random candy boxes into it. “What are you doing?” JJ furrowed his eyebrows. “She’s gotta like at least one of these, let’s just buy it all” John B shrugged, handing the basket to JJ who turned his attention towards the box full of small stuffed animals.

JJ picked up a small cat before looking at the little dog holding a love heart. “Do you think she’s more of a dog person or a cat person?” “Which one do you want her to be?”

JJ abandoned the cat and threw the dog in the basket, just as John B grabbed a pink bag covered in white hearts and threw it on top of their Valentine's treasures.

“This should be enough right?” John B asked, earning a slightly concerned look from JJ.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the professional here? I’m just the student!” JJ followed him to the counter and helped throw everything in front of Mr. Wade.

“JJ, I don’t think people see either of us and think of the word professional.” and of course, he couldn’t argue with that.

JJ was left to his own devices the rest of the night, John B had a date with Sarah.

He did his best at setting up the bag of goodies, before deciding it was good enough because nothing would be as perfect as you no matter how much he tried.

Finally, Wednesday had come and right around the time you made it outside of your school building you were met with the sight of the Twinkie, eyes watching it as you laughed at something one of your friends said. You said your goodbyes before making your way to the old van just as JJ Maybank came out of the driver’s side and leaned on the passenger’s door.

“Thought you dropped out, JJ.” You smiled at the blond, who happily mirrored you as he approached him. “You know, gotta come back every once in a while, see how the place is holdin’ up without me.” He shrugged, earning a chuckle from you.

JJ cleared his throat, standing up straight. “I wanted to surprise you. Ask you to be my Valentine.” Your smile got softer, that sweet look on your face almost making JJ chicken out but now he was too deep in.

“So ask me,” you said softly, after a moment of waiting for him to continue. JJ laughed, shaking his head. “Right, yeah, sorry. Will you be my Valentine, pretty lady?” His voice was quieter than you were used to hearing, you couldn’t help but cover your face as you felt heat spread across your cheeks. JJ chuckled at your reaction before leaning forward just enough to remove your hands from your face.

“Whadya say?” You smiled at him as he held onto your hands, whispering now that you were so close. “I’ll be your Valentine any day of the week, J.” He smiled back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before letting go of your hands and opening the passenger door, revealing the very same bag that was currently overflowing.

“Awh, babe.” You smiled at the sight, picking up the little dog plush.

“Hope you’re a dog person,” He said, grabbing the bag’s handles so you could get in the van.

“And that you have a severe sweet tooth.”

#jj maybank x you #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #outer banks imagines #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #Spotify

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wasongo · 1 year

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Days ago I had a dream that ONE drew a comic in which Teru confided in Reigen that he was in love with Mob, after which I woke up feeling very sad that it wasn't real lmao, so I drew a sappy terumob

post ending. Teru loves seeing Mob laugh.

I was torn between Teru's manga end hair and his anime end hair because I think they're both nice. In the end I went with the manga hair because the manga is extra special to me, but I might draw him again with his anime hair sometime.

Consider this a very belated valentine's art I guess!

#mp100 #terumob #hanazawa teruki #kageyama shigeo #fanart #art

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cheesus-doodles · 2 months

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Yakuza Boss Izana + Pudding

Valentine’s Day Shorts

Masterlist | Valentine's Shorts List

‎‎‎

took the previous week off to rest, am back at it again! happy belated valentine's day! the izzy in this is in my head is the shaggy hair future izzy <3

"Hey!" But you could only pout as you watched Izana dig into your half-eaten pudding. "That's mine!"

"Serves you right," the white-haired man huffed, spooning a generous heap of pudding straight into his mouth as he swiftly dodged your attempts to grab the cup back. You really were adorable, he mused as he watched you from the corner of his eye, to think that you could match his speed and reflexes. "You ate my share."

It was a rather cold winter afternoon down by the banks of the river, the overcast sky blocking out any sign of the usual sunlight, and the breeze that swept down the waterway only lowering the temperature even more. Well bundled up in your thick coat, you still shivered slightly, snuggling into your finance's side - and for all his pointed words, Izana was more than happy to let you, pulling you closer to him.

You shot a few more longing glances at your rapidly diminishing sweet treat, lightly brushing a strand of hair aside from his cheek before it could touch the pudding. "But what makes you think its yours Izzy?"

"You know what day it is!" His rebuttal came immediately. Though, the yakuza boss did note that you seemed more amused than distraught at his antics as he grumpily polished off the last of the dessert, before haphazardly tossing the now empty container back into your paper bag without a second glance and plopping down to lay his head on your lap. That was delicious, and you should be ashamed.

Twelve years the two of you have been together, and you have never failed even once to make - hand make - a treat for him on Valentine’s Day, be it chocolates, biscuits or any number of other sweets. Yet today, of all days, he was the one that had to hunt you down, only to find you by the bank of your favorite river, enjoying a treat in the form of a pudding by yourself. His pudding.

"I can't believe you," he grumbled. It was an unusual look for the well feared mafia boss who laid sprawled across your lap, sulking like a rebuffed child, violet gaze refusing to meet yours. "Eating all by yourself. Today!"

You didn't answer him, but the slightest ruffle of the paper bag caught Izana's attention even as you continued to run one hand through his mob of hair. And blank eyes turned just in time to catch you pulling out a second cup of pudding from your paper bag.

"Guess this one is mine then," you chirped playfully, popping open the top to reveal a pristine soft surface off which light bounced, the pudding glinting even in the dim sunlight. "Don't mind if I -"

The pudding cup was gone from your hand before you could finish your sentence. And your jaw-dropped expression were reflected in that familiar empty gaze as you followed the sound of slurping to find said stolen cup in the tanned hands of your finance. "HEY!"

Izana only started chewing faster.

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nikoruistyping · 1 year

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Our Love Language || Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: It’s your first time spending Valentines day with your boyfriend, Spencer and just when you thought all was lost he surprises you in more way than one...

TW: Small bit of Fluff, Lots of Smut, Adult Language/Swearing, Dirty Talk, Kissing/Making Out, Fingering (Kinda), Vanilla Vaginal/Office/Desk Sex, Oral Sex (Fem Receiving), Praise Kink, Nudity, Playful Banter/Jokes, Established Relationship, Aftercare, Mention of Valentines Day, Gushy “I love you’s”

Word Count: 4,805

A/N: HAPPY BELATED VALENTINES DAY FOLKS! I hope you enjoy and this little one shot is especially dedicated to my bestie who is obsessed with our boy Spencer Reid so I hope you enjoy babes and that everyone else does as well! Also this took me almost 3 days to write and proof and Im sure there is a bunch of mistakes still so I will go in and fix later since work and personal life has been crazy recently.

Physical touch, Quality time, Receiving gifts, Acts of service, Words of affirmation

It was the one day of the year you actually hated with a passion because the thought of it made your blood boil. Another holiday for people to make money off of and take advantage of all the loving couples who wanted to do many something a little extra special for their significant other. It was annoying having to see so many happy couples going around doing all the stuff you wanted to do but at the end of the day, you would go retreat to your fuzzy blanket and turn on Netflix with a bowl of ice cream in hand. Well at least that's how you used to spend Valentine's day but this year would be different from the rest because it was your first time actually being able to celebrate not alone but with your boyfriend Spencer.

You had an extra pep in your step the whole day and as you got off the subway from a long day at work you were looking forward to whatever surprise or possibly more than one surprise he would have for you waiting at home. It was eating you alive trying to guess or more so make up little scenarios in your mind about how just exactly what would the night entail. Would he go the more romantic route? Dozens of roses and a home-cooked meal? Would he get down and dirty from the get-go? Doing tons of explicit things to you the minute you stepped into the doorway? Just the sheer thought of it made you bite your lip, your steps getting faster in anticipation.

Before you could even pull your keys out of your pocket you get a phone call from Spencer and you quickly smile at the picture you had set as his contact photo, clearly something so silly and embarrassing but it reminded you of how much of a goofball he could be sometimes. You pick up raising the phone to your ear to listen to his voice.

"Hey babe,"

"Hey Y/N, so I have some bad news..." His voice seemed to echo so loudly into the phone your heart seemed to drop.

"Bad news...what the hell do you mean?" Your brow was furrowed in confusion as you had stopped in your tracks just minutes before you could enter into your apartment building.

"I-I don't think I'm going to make it home on time," You could hear the shakiness in his voice and that he was nervous.

"You have got to be kidding me! Spencer, you know how important today is for me. It's our first time as a couple celebrating Valentine's day, are you sure there isn't anything you can do?" Your Valentine's day plans were starting to disappear before your eyes and you hated how much importance this stupid holiday had on you but you at least wanted to enjoy it once while being in a serious relationship with someone you truly loved. You tried your best to seem tame over the phone because at the end of the day, it wasn't exactly his fault.

"Don't you think I know that Y/N?! Trust me I want to be with you too right now but this case is really beating up the whole team and there are piles of paperwork to do." He deeply sighed into the phone out of exhaustion, you hated seeing him so overworked like this and you know he hasn't been sleeping well recently.

"Fine how about this...have you eaten at all today?" You ask into the phone raising an eyebrow, you were sure Spencer could already imagine the look on your face.

"Does two cups of coffee count?" He asks with a small chuckle.

"Well, that tells me all that I need to know. It's decided I'm coming over to the BAU and I'm bringing dinner for us. If you can't come to me I'll just come to you." You quickly decided after sacrificing all the perfect little plans you were imagining in your head and you started to accept the reality that you would be spending your most romantic night ever in the dim lights of the FBI's office, how exciting.

"Y/N are you sure?! You really don't have to and plus do you really want to be here bored out of your mind watching me do paperwork?"

"I've already decided and as long as I'm spending time with you that's what I really care about." You say with a small smile on your face and turn yourself around to start walking in the other direction.

"You're right, I'll see ya soon then yeah?" He asked with a grin across his face on the other side of the phone.

"I'll let you know when I get there. See you soon my love." You quickly hung up the phone blushing to yourself before he could comment on the new pet name you called him. For some reason, it felt natural to say, what other day is better fitting than today right?

1 Hour later...

Take-out bags in hand you made your way over to the front doors of the BAU office. The office from the outside seemed darker than usual and there weren't many cars in the parking lot so something was definitely off. You reluctantly swiped your visitor's badge at the front door, pushing the glass door open with your hip to hold it as you seemed to juggle the bags of food around from one hand to the next. When you turned around to look at the front desk there was a candlelit walkway leading you in exactly the direction you were supposed to follow. Immediately a smile came about your face and you eagerly followed the pathway made for you, rose petals decorated the floor leading you right to were you needed to be.

"Spencer?!" You questioned calling out to him hoping he would respond back. The darkness seemed to fill the air and you couldn't see anything in front of you other than a few office desks being dimly lit by candlelight. You cautiously took a few steps forward, footsteps echoing into space.

To no avail, you didn't get any response back so you tried your best to navigate where you knew his desk was. You could already tell it must have been his because it was the one that had fairy lights surrounding it, more rose petals decorating the small space, and a little folded-up notecard addressed to you.

You gently put down the bags of take-out food and picked up the notecard while reading it to yourself.

Y/N, I know you're probably a bit upset at me that I lied to you so you could come here. I wanted to celebrate this special day in the one place where it all started, here in the BAU office. I hope that this doesn't come off as lame or corny, it's my way of showing you how much you mean to me. Happy Valentines Day S.R You couldn't help but have the biggest grin on your face, you couldn't believe that he really went through all this trouble to make everything look so pretty for you. You really were the luckiest girl in the world at that moment.

Before you could even say another word, you felt a familiar presence standing right behind you, and hands quickly covering your vision so you couldn't see.

"Spencer is that you?" You knew it was him but hey no harm in asking.

"Hmm... the name doesn't ring a bell. Can you describe what he looks like?" His breath was hot as his lips were close to your ear.

"Oh I see-" You quickly caught on to the drift of his little game so you decided to play along.

"Well let me think and see if I can remember," You paused trying to build up the suspense.

"He has these handsome brown hazelnut-colored eyes, he's about 6'1, his hair is light brown extra fluffy sometimes curly and his lips are very and I mean very kissable. Is that a good enough description?" You answer back smirking to yourself that you were sure it made him smile hearing you say that last bit of info.

"I might have seen him around, looks like he happens to be a criminal though so I'd be careful if I were you." He almost broke his serious tone of voice with a small but audible chuckle.

"A criminal, what is he guilty of?" You ask pretending to be shocked with a fake gasp escaping your lips knowing exactly where this little joke is going but you decided to indulge him since you found it cute and endearing.

"Looks like he stole someone's heart," He states as you decide to turn around, his hands lifting up to uncover your eyes so you could finally look at him. All the feelings from when you first met flooded back, the all too familiar feeling of butterflies in your stomach and cheeks flushed pink while your eyes made contact with his.

"He definitely stole mine for sure." You declare quickly pulling him closer to you, your hands immediately finding their home on the back of his neck where your fingers played with small loose strands of hair.

You smiled and leaned forward, kissing his lips softly, after such a long stressful day his lips felt like home. You let yourself become so relaxed that without even realizing you started to draw him closer, a queue for Spencer to put his hands on your waist. You had almost forgotten what it felt like to kiss him this passionately and you pressed into it, your fingers curling in his hair and lightly tugging. Your head turned to the side, your tongue sliding against his as the kiss became more intense. You let a quiet moan slip out and before you could get too carried away you pulled your lips away. Your hands reached back to his face and soothingly stroked the patchy stubble on his cheeks.

"You know you're a pretty good actor, I would have never guessed." You commented with a small giggle he just smiled right back at you.

"Let's just say it was a little white lie, it's an exception. Plus it was so worth it to see you like this right in front of me." He leaned in closer nuzzling his nose against yours as you just enjoyed the faint smell of his cologne.

"I have to say I'm impressed you were able to do all of this and with Hotch's permission?! You must have had to beg." You said with a small snicker.

"Well, what can I say, some people are worth going through a little bit of hell," He says with a smile as one of his hands goes up to cup your cheek, his hand a bit shaky and you could tell he seemed a bit nervous despite the very confidant façade he was putting on for you.

"Is everything ok Spence? You're shaking," You ask concerned as you put your hand on top of his.

"I-I-um well ok- there is something important I wanted to tell you and I thought it's finally the right time to do so," He took a deep breath and you could even hear how hard he swallowed due to the deafening silence around you two.

"Y/N...I love you-" The minute he uttered those three words you couldn't help but giggle at his confession. He furrowed his brows in confusion almost a bit offended at your reaction.

"What's so funny?! You know I’m trying to confess my undying love for you and this is the thanks I get-" He was ready to protest.

"Spencer I'm not laughing at your confession. I'm laughing at the fact that you got all nervous just to tell me that? I already know that you love me but it does feel nice to hear it out loud." You say nonchalantly and you could have sworn his jaw dropped at your words.

"How did you know? I mean this makes no sense at all I made sure to keep it a secret-" He was seriously in awe at how you could have figured out something so simple it even made him scratch his head.

"Spencer it's very simple to explain, this is our love language," Your hands slid down to hold both of his and intertwine your fingers with his as you pause a moment to savor every bit of how he was so focused on listening to you.

"I'm sure you have already heard of the five types of love languages. All the things we do for each other every day are all acts of love and even though we might not say it out loud in words actions speak louder," Your fingers traced small patterns on the back of his hand as he gave you a small smile.

"Every time you tell me how beautiful I am, when you clean the whole house for me, when we cuddle watching movies together, when you come home with my favorite dessert because you know I've had a bad day and cheesecake is the only way to cure my sadness and when you hold my hand or kiss me, those are all things that reassure me that you love me. You don't have to be some big-shot FBI Behavior Analyst to see we are in love Spencer."

"Wow...you literally just blew my mind-" He utters under his breath impressed by you but mostly surprised how you really do love him and that everything he does for you and you for him, that the little things don't go unnoticed.

"I don't want to toot my own horn but I tend to do that." You flash him a little smirk.

"Then how about you show me other ways you can blow my mind some more, hmm?" Spencer hummed as he leaned in closer to whisper into your ear, his fingers reaching to push a strand of hair behind it. The look in his eyes shifted from a soft brown to now a deep ocean of brown that was filled with lust.

"I see how it is, you want to jump right to dessert?" You question in a playful tone as your hands pressed themselves against his chest, playing with the ends of his tie between your fingers.

"You know I have a sweet tooth and I want to put one of those love languages to use," He says as his hands travel to touch the sides of your neck, grazing against your skin and sliding their way down to your waist slowly twisting your hips to his will while taking a few steps forward until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

"And which love language would that be exactly Spence?" Your fingers entangled in his tie and pulled him closer while you jumped up to sit on top of his desk.

"I think you already know which one I'm talking about." He took the opportunity to nudge himself into the open space you had made by parting your legs so he could fit and be even closer.

"Then why don't you just show me already, hmm?" You hummed back as if challenging him to take action and he sure didn't waste any time.

Before you knew it Spencer was crashing his lips into yours. His kiss is a bit more aggressive than normal, the force of it tilting your body to bend back. You feel your legs go weak but his arm quickly flexes to catch you from falling completely back onto the desk. His lips coax yours open with little effort as you're hardly putting up any resistance at this point. The flavor of bitter coffee is rich on his tongue as it swipes against yours. His teeth catch your lips in bites, groans, and moans caught in one another's mouth. You could feel his hair tickling your forehead and cheeks while you adjust the tilt of your head changing the angle of the kiss to be even deeper.

A few seconds more and you both pull away from one another's lips, gasping for air. Your lips feel swollen, breathing rapid, face tinted pink. You're pleased to find Spencer was left in equally the same state, taking deep breaths, lips slick and tinted with your favorite shade of lipstick.

You decided to heat things up even more by taking action and wrapping his tie around your small nimble fingers, yanking him forward. His eyes widen in surprise briefly as his smirk falls from his face just as your lips crash into his. This time you work your tongue into his mouth. Your kisses prove to be more teasing and playful than before.

Spencer responds by wrapping his arms around you. Your free hand travels down his body, appreciating and pressing against the taut muscles and harsh lines beneath his button-down shirt. He pulls away for a moment to show attention to your neck which was in dire need of being marked by his lips and teeth. You were ashamed to admit how much you loved when he left his little mark on you, showing to everyone you were his and only his. You tilted your head back enjoying the way he softly bit into your skin and would lick over the small bruises he created. He groans into the crook of your neck as your hands travel down his body, his hips pressing into you and you could already feel his growing erection through his slacks, brushing your inner thigh through the material of your skirt which you had already taken the liberty of hiking up.

His hands coursed over your body, running along your back, grasping your shoulders, weaving into your hair, gripping your hips and tilting them towards him, his body causing yours to twist and turn in ways that only his touch could do to you. You feel a rush of adrenaline run through your veins and for some reason even though sex with Spencer was always an exhilarating experience for some reason becoming all undone on top of his desk seemed so scandalous. Dare you say it might have even been a forbidden fantasy of yours with him.

Your fingers rake through his curls cradling his head close to your neck as he slowly travels downwards, his hands pushing the lacey fabric of your blouse to the side giving him more access to your neck and collarbone. His fingers fumbled with the buttons until he lost his patience and ripped it entirely off your body until you were left in only your bra. A loud gasp left your lips at his mere strength.

"What? I hate buttons." He quickly comments pausing the assault he is currently doing to your neck.

"T-That was my favorite blouse, Spencer." You try to say in defense but who are you kidding you didn't give a damn you wanted him to keep on kissing down your body till he reached the one place you needed him most.

"I'll just buy you a new one." His voice was already raspy while continuing to place kisses on your skin, one by one the more he seemed to travel and you leaned back giving him more access.

"You're lucky that I love you enough not to care too much-" Your sentence interrupted when his fingers quickly unzipped your skirt and he flung it behind him. His lips made their way downwards kissing your thigh and down your leg, his hands delicately lifted your leg up into the air, taking off your high heels and letting them drop with a loud clack onto the floor.

He runs fingers caressing your skin as he fluttered peppered kisses back up to your inner thigh. He kneeled down on his knees to be face to face with your heat. His hands crept their way to the edges of your panties and slowly pulled them down your legs, painfully slow might you add. It made you even hotter seeing him like this, worshiping you like a goddess.

"S-Spence I really need you-" A loud moan escaped your lips when he finally touched you, he knew all the spots that drove you crazy.

"Someone sure is eager, huh?" He quipped right back while looking up at you through hooded eyelids, loving the undone expression on your face and he wasn't even working his magic yet.

"Spencer, please." You begged through heavy breaths.

He started off with long laps of his tongue, fully tasting you, all of you. He'd break away every so often showing love to your inner thighs with peppered kisses. He'd build up your pleasure and pull away before you could be fully pushed over the edge. His skillful tongue circled your clit as your moans became high-pitched. You squeezed your eyes closed and rutted your hips up against his tongue hungry for more. Your hands found his curly brown locks, guiding him to continue pleasuring you and he groaned as you pulled at the roots.

You let a slew of curse words mixed with the way you kept saying his name over and over again fly from your mouth. He liked the sounds that came from you so he thrusted his tongue inside of you.

“Have I ever told you…” another broad lick, this one faster than the last, “… that I love the way you taste?” You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat hearing the way those words come from his lips.

You’re incapable of forming words let alone a whole sentence, your body strained from the rise and fall of almost coming undone. You bite your lip and give what you hope is a nod, knowing he’s watching you from down below. He lets out a moan as he sucks on your clit and your head falls back while tugging on his hair, your legs resting on top of his shoulders as you clutch him closer locking him in that position.

"I'm so close-" You barely were able to get out as he just relentlessly continued to pleasure you with his tongue.

You came, crying out his name, you were pretty sure your moans and screams were echoing all across the office, thank god nobody was there to see or else you would have been embarrassed beyond belief. He kept licking stripes up and down your slit, lapping up your cum as your legs squeezed around his shoulders. He pulled away for a moment to take a breath, cleaning the glistening liquid from his lips with the back of his hand.

"You definitely blew more than just my mind right now." You struggled to say between heavy labored breaths while you watched Spencer get up off his knees and hastily pulling at the knot in his tie to yank it off while he somehow patiently unbuttoned his own shirt, shimming it off his shoulders.

"You better get ready to have it be blown again." His fingers quickly went to his belt buckle and undoing it just enough for his erection to pop out.

He aligned his hips with yours as you just watched him slowly bring himself closer. His cock laid flat up against the small bit of lower abs that Spencer had been working on building up, he bit his lip seeing you so unraveled and needy for him. His lips found their way back to yours, his tongue pressing up against yours making sure you could taste remnants of yourself on his lips. The way he kissed you was passionate yet rough it was like nothing you had ever experienced, maybe it was the fact that it was Valentine's day who knows but Spencer had dialed up his tactics and you weren't complaining either. Your hands had found a place to rest on his shoulders, giving you the right position to keep him close. He pressed just a bit harder into kissing you, his teeth grazing your lower lip catching it and biting it in response as he started to get desperate.

"Fuck Spencer, I need you...please..." You said practically begging at this point as you craved to have his cock inside you.

"Shit...I love you so much Y/N." He declared almost with a smug look on his face knowing exactly what he was going to do next. Your legs were already feeling like jelly but you had found enough strength to pull his hips closer.

"Then show me how much," You whispered into the close space between your bodies.

Without warning his cock filled you completely in one stroke, the head brushing against your wet slit as it entered you. You squeezed your eyes shut as his length stretched your walls. He drew his hips back and then thrust back into you. Gasps and whines fell from your lips as he fucked you. You drew arbitrary patterns on his biceps with the pads of your fingers. Your toes curled as he slammed into you over and over again. His hands gripped the desk underneath you as he struggled to steady himself with each and every thrust the faster he went in and out of you. His nose nuzzled into your neck as he struggled to hold back his groans of pleasure.

For a moment his thrusts slowed but went deeper into you as you were being fucking into oblivion on top of his desk. His hands went from having a grip on your hips trailing slowly up to holding your hand, entwining your fingers with his as he took his sweet time bringing you to your climax at a slower pace. Everything felt like it was in slow-mo as his cock stroked along your g-spot, coaxing your orgasm to come faster. You could feel your core coiling up and about to burst. You squeezed his hand even harder while your moans filled the air and his head buried into your neck littering your neck once again with lovebites dark enough to leave marks the next morning.

"Cum for me...Y/N..." He had whispered into your ear, it flushing red with each and every word he had said.

You had cursed his name under your breath as your whole core had tensed up for just a moment while you came. His hips were still thrusting into yours as you rode out your high and you could feel him release inside of you, your fingers relaxed against his as you released his hand from yours. Both of your breaths were heavy and panting. His head leaned against your shoulder while your back was arched against the desk holding the both of you up. Your legs had tightened around his waist keeping him close to you while your bodies seemed to entangle with each other, his arms quickly embracing you.

Your hands went to cradle his head close to your chest as you played with his curly locks loving how soft his hair was.

"I love you, Spencer, so so much." That was all you had the strength to say while your breathing started to even out.

"Me too-" His voice cracked still trying to catch his breath.

"The best Valentine's day I could ever ask for." Your comment seemed to echo followed by an exhausted chuckle.

"I'm really glad you enjoyed it but you know I'm not done with you yet." He lifted his head to finally look you in the eyes as he disconnected your bodies letting you have a minute to fix yourself as he picked up the discarded clothing on the floor.

Your eyes still wandered while observing him get dressed as you swung your legs back and forth sitting on his desk, patiently waiting but also coming up with how you could keep the energy of tonight going for as long as possible.

"How about we eat some food first since by now I'm sure it's cold and then I can show you some more ways I can blow your mind...physically that is." You raised your eyebrows at him and he snickered to himself slowly walking over to you and cupping your cheeks in his hands.

"Sounds like a plan my love." He quickly kissed your lips with a grin on his face.

For the rest of the night, you two sat at his desk enjoying each other's company while you chow down on your favorite foods. Spencer went on through explaining how he really set up this whole elaborate plan to surprise you and you smiled along knowing that you were going to keep falling more and more in love with the man right in front of you. As he rambled on and on his voice started to fade into the background as you started to reflect that if every Valentine's day was going to be like this you wouldn't have it any other way and you could proudly say that your first Valentine's day was a success. You realized that didn't need a day dedicated to show how much you loved Spencer because in reality you had been doing so every day and you hoped to keep doing so for many more years to come.

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminalmindsmaster #fluff #smut

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weeeting · 2 months

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HAPPY BELATED VALENTINES

Because im tragically single i drew this

Lol it’s pretty obvious but can you guess which is referenced and which is based on anatomy vibes

#inuyasha #sesskag #sesshomaru #kagome #myart #sketch #art #kagome higurashi #anime #procreate #happy valentines #valentines day #fanart

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fr-thrice · 2 months

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it's been a while since i drew the lovebirds ^w^ i guess it's like a belated Valentine's thing!!

#g drawin #fr art #frfanart #flight rising

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drawinggoose · 2 months

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Guess who just got their first watercolour brush pens?

I have no idea how to work with them, but it was FUN and I intend to use them again. To try them out I decided to do a small, belated Beladonna Valentine piece.

Happy Valentines, folks!

#resident evil village #donna beneviento #bela dimitrescu #beladonna #donna x bela #my art #my artwork #art #fan art #re village #re8 #valentines #valentines day #happy valentine's day!

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veryace-ficrecs · 4 months

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Sanlu Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Midnight Snacks by ClockedInside - Rated G

Sanji finds himself baking a cake with his captain at twelve am. He's not upset about it in the slightest.

burnt orange by zo_glassy - Rated T

Luffy wasn’t exactly sure when, but he had been caught staring, and then a plump fruit was being held close to his mouth. Yet at that moment, he’d been unable to tear his eyes away, teeth grazing soft fingertips as he nibbled the orange flesh in a daze. The fruit bursts in his tongue, the sour-sweetness enveloping his senses. He recalls the clear juice that had trickled down the pale wrist, the twinkle of blue eyes winking at him mischievously. "Our secret, don't tell Nami-san." — In which Luffy is clueless, and Nami and Usopp take it upon themselves to play cupid. Happy (belated) valentines day!

The King's Cook: On Love Languages and Adoration by onceuponaneverafter - Rated T

Sanji cooked for everyone. Never not in the kitchen making or preparing something. He never said "Love yous" or "Missed yous" but he always cooked everyone's favourites, and never let a soul go hungry. Luffy notices, and after watching and observing and learning, he decides Sanji deserves to be cooked for too. Or, Luffy loves his crew and knows they have worth, and Sanji needs to be reminded that means him too.

Moment In The Sun by Harubo - Rated T

“So… you’re not a knight at all.” “I don’t know what it means to be a knight,” Luffy shrugged, “But I saw you and I wanted to be by your side and now I am. Zeff says being a knight means caring for someone more than you care for yourself. So I guess I’m a knight.”

The Captain's Cook by three_days_late - Rated G

He would do whatever it took to keep Sanji by his side. He would give him whatever he wanted, do anything he asked, just as long as Sanji stayed with him. Sanji was the cook of the Straw Hat pirates, and Luffy would accept no other.

Kindness around the stations by purplefox - Rated T

Luffy is a troublesome little brother but he is kind. Are Sabo and Ace cool with their little brother disappearing into the city and getting involved with a royal? Not so much but they doubt they can pry Luffy away. He seems gone on the blonde royal who cooks and feeds Luffy what he makes.

A Wedding to Remember by GalacticSaz - Rated T

Sanji is waiting at the alter for his future wife to strut in and ruin his life. But, his captain never was any good at leaving them alone in their time of need. So, why did he think that today would be any different?

Growing Pains by grayimperia - Rated G

Luffy’s grandpa was well over nine feet tall and wide as a barn. Other than the occasional fist of love, this had no bearing on Luffy’s life until it suddenly did. Sanji frowned, reaching out to press a hand to the top of Luffy’s head. “Am I going crazy or have you gotten taller?” “If I get bigger, will you still carry me and cook for me and do my laundry and help me wash my hair?” “Yes, you overgrown child—even if you’re more overgrown.” - Luffy gets a growth spurt.

Our Way To Be (And How Everyone Sees Us) by aririnas - Rated G

Five situations where the mugiwara see the strange relationship between Luffy and Sanji. And one in which someone realizes the reality.

Honey Hold Me by Harubo - Rated T

When his captain burst out of the wedding cake, screaming furiously that Sanji was his husband, all hell broke loose at the Whole Cake Chateau. (Snippets of a love story between the cook and his captain, the captain and his cook)

Anchor by Trixree - Rated T

It is said that dreams are shared between soulmates. Luckily, the Vinsmoke children do not dream. (Except, of course, for the failure.)

A Gentle Tide by teaandtumblr - Rated G

When it came to people, and creatures, on the Grand Line, Sanji knew that Luffy was one of the toughest ones. He’d known it ever since their first meeting. Luffy was made of rubber but he may as well have been made of iron for how strong he was. Which was why Sanji was so surprised to find Luffy’s weakness to be what it was: Gentleness.

It's Called Falling by Trixree - Rated M

So many bad choices have led up to this moment, standing in the walk-in fridge with his face buried in his hands to choke back what could either be a scream or hysterical laughter, contemplating the Not A Date he’s landed himself, and Sanji cannot fathom how to begin to undig this hole.

Too Bright to See by grayimperia - Rated T

Luffy’s eyes are unfocused as he smiles at Sanji. Robin takes a measured sip of her coffee in the same amount of time it takes Luffy to bite clear through half of his sandwich. Sanji swipes a few napkins off the table and sets about wiping crumbs from Luffy’s face. “I’m so sorry about him, Robin-chan.” “It’s quite alright,” she says. And it is because there is something very sweet about the scene in front of her. Robin smiles. One out of seven lights click on. - Luffy, Sanji, the Straw Hats, and how it takes time to notice the obvious.

Easy as Anything, Simple as That by Trixree - Rated T

“Luffy? What’s the matter?” “We’re gonna’ have a wedding,” he says incomprehensibly. Which—no. Absolutely not. Haven’t they had enough of weddings, lately? Nami's certainly had enough for a lifetime, thanks. “What are you talking about? What wedding?” she demands as coherently as she can while running on only two-and-a-half hours of sleep. “Mine and Sanji’s,” Luffy declares.

That's One Heck of a Gatcha Prize by anarchycox - Rated T

Zeff forces Sanji to take an actual day off from the Baratie and Sanji goes to the street fair/carnival going on. He plays a silly game to win a stuffed animal. He didn't expect to win a Luffy.

face the sun by zo_glassy - Rated M

the summer sun a halo behind his head, and his own ears are completely singed by the heat of the other’s affections.

he learns that Luffy’s warmth, golden-red and burning, may take some getting used to.

(in which Sanji's vulnerable to his captain's flattery.)

#veryace recs #black leg sanji #monkey d. luffy #one piece #one piece sanlu #sanlu #strawhat pirates #one piece fanfiction #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3 #red leg zeff #sanji and zeff

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ifys · 2 months

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🩵💛

Uh hi. I did not forget I have a Tumblr account

Happy belated Valentine's day I guess. Have some old men being in love. I love the little extras in Armageddon, so here we have cake decorating master Hanzo Hasashi and Kuai Liang & his coffee mug/cup

I did this on my new tablet. I'm still trying to figure things out, so if something is a little weird, that's the reason why

Anyway see y'all in 6 or 7 months when I remember I have a Tumblr account

#mortal kombat #subscorp #hanzo x kuai #kuai liang #hanzo hasashi #kuaihanzo #mortal kombat 11 #mk11 #ifys does art

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thatumbrellaoni · 6 months

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went to japan so of course I ordered the priroll of The Boy!

this was made available since february 2023. was very glad it was still up for order. belated valentines to myself hehe

look at him!!! look! so cute!!!! the way he sits! I can finally eat him!!!! 😭😭😭💕💕💕💕💕💕 hes perfect! idek how I'll be able to eat him when hes like that tbh!! I chose the chocolate cream + strawberries flavor for him.

and then,

also got these because all kinds of ryou does the body good. these were made available since october 2022. was surprised you could still order them, so I did! theres unfortunately no bakura/ryou pair, so what the hell, I'll settle for the wrong other dark half I guess LMAO

flavors are intuitive based on color: strawberry, pistachio, orange. I ate the ryou and mari/baku ones already 🤤🤭

oughoughghh this is the christmas 2021 bakubaku cake I wanted ;-; sadly its long gone. time travel possible when... technology needs to advance so I can have these boys in my mouth! I marvel at their green eyes and bakura peeking at his landlord 🤭😳

freebies! I actually wanted the mari/baku one, but I think those are sold out since you couldnt choose that specific design. surprised you could even choose tbh. I thought it was random and youd have to order several cakes until you either dropped dead from eating all those sweets or got your desired badge. either way requires dedication.

no trip is complete without a doujin purchase. got my bakubaku fix at least 🤭 more later maybe.

#yami bakura #bakura ryou #tendershipping #ryou bakura #dark bakura #yugioh #ygo #word of god #have at it lads #like I said #Id never buy a bakura without a matching ryou #but hell yeah Id buy a ryou without a bakura lmao #unfortunately for me I must have the bakuras

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pacinglikeghosts · 2 months

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Happy belated Valentine’s Day, my loves! As Valentine’s Day is a fem holy holiday, I wanted to share the love. My take on one of my favorite rom-coms’ most iconic scenes, ronance-ified! I don’t have the energy to give you the song and dance of a moodboard, so imagine it’s pretty :) I’ll put one in when I’m up for it.

Frankly, Robin’s night couldn’t get worse. Not that it was bad to start—house parties are never her thing, especially ones that welcome the presence of Tommy H. and Steve Harrington—but babysitting Nancy Wheeler and being a couples counselor for her stupid younger brother made every part of the evening grow more and more insufferable.

And who knew that Nancy Wheeler, with her baby bird frail body, would be so damn heavy when drunk? Sure, alcohol added a bit of weight, but carrying Nancy’s concussed body away from the party was like carrying a ton of bricks.

“This is so patronizing,” Nancy insisted. “I’m fine.”

Robin rolled her eyes and adjusted her grip. “God, leave it to you to use SAT words when you’re drunk, Ms. Spelling Bee Champion, and clearly you’re not, since you whacked your head on an incredibly expensive chandelier and practically passed out in my arms—you’re welcome, by the way—only to nearly pass out again once we got outside.”

“I don’t think so,” Nancy sang, pushing Robin away from her and attempting to walk towards the car, only to stumble and fall onto the damp grass. “Fuck me,” she cursed, staring at the grass stains on her pastel pink pants.

“C’mon, up you go,” Robin encouraged, offering her hand to help Nancy up. “No use staying on the ground where you could also get hypothermia.”

Nancy, rather than get up, stared up at Robin, her big blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Why are you doing this? I mean…helping me? Making sure I get home safe.”

“Like I said, you probably have a concussion. If not checked out I’m pretty sure it can have serious damage to the brain, not to mention the headaches, the nausea, the dizziness, and the light sensitivity…”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Like you care what happens to me.”

“Of course I do, otherwise I’d have to find someone to go out with that actually cares about me, and god only knows no one’s banging down my door in order to spend more time with the school’s resident dyke,” Robin laughed, though there wasn’t an ounce of joy in her expression. She sighed, before joining Nancy on the cold grass. “So why do you let them get to you?”

Nancy leaned back, her elbows failing to brace her and instead landing flat on her back. “You mean Tommy and Carol?”

“And Steve, I guess.”

“I hate him. And them. I hate all of them.”

Robin coaxed Nancy up to a sitting position before crossing her legs and staring at the worn laces of her boots. “Well, coming here gave you the perfect chance to take part in your revenge by mainlining cheap vodka.”

Nancy’s face softened before she laughed, encouraging Robin to laugh alongside her. “Well, you know how it is…” she trailed off, closing her eyes.

“No, how is it?” Robin asked, looking over at Nancy. “Hey, Nancy, Nance, wake up…I told you not to go to sleep, your parents would have a warrant out for my arrest if they found out you died at a party because of me, c’mon..”

Nancy opened her eyes, exhaustion still lingering on her face. “Your eyes have a bit of gold in them,” she noted, before rolling over and vomiting.

Steve Harrington owed Robin more than just cash after this.

#oh FUCK yeah I had to do 10 things #this is like half a teaser half me wanting to write #but it does let you into the dynamics a little bit ;)#and it was so fun I wrote it in like 30 minutes #I wish I was back in the game #but alas. final semester slump #and yknow. the everything with st #stranger things #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #ronance #nancy x robin

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darsynia · 1 year

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Happy Val | Steve Rogers/Reader Fluff

Summary: You work at 'Bean Charge,' a coffee shop run by a man who everyone jokes might just be the real Thor. It's a great place to work, and part of what makes it that way are the customers-- and for you, one of those customers in particular. You look forward to when he comes in, but the handsome lawyer named Steve is probably just being polite to his local barista, right? Belated Valentine's Oneshot

Warnings | Pairing: Fluffy fluff | Lawer!Steve Rogers/Barista!Reader

Square filled: Coffee Shop AU for @avengersbingo

Length: 2,536

Tags: @ronearoundblindly @munstysmind @tiny-anne @themaradaniels @starryeyes2000 @deepbatched

Happy Val

It’s all a little ‘While You Were Sleeping’ to you, this absurd crush you have on the handsome lawyer that periodically shows up at the coffee shop.

Part of the problem is that you’re shy. Excruciatingly shy, which is usually not a problem at work, because the bombastic shop owner Thor loves to take orders during your morning shifts. Everyone jokes that he’s the real Thor, with his golden hair and muscles, and Thor plays it up. ‘Bean Charge’ has a resident black cat named Loki, lightning themed decor and drinks, and Thor’s crowning glory, a food section named, what else? Meal Near.

Thor’s a really great boss, really protective. The last place he’d worked had some regulars that harassed the staff so badly that he’s given all of you the choice of using aliases on your nametags. That means you work with ‘Lady Sif,’ ‘Fandral,’ ‘Heimdall,’ and ‘Frigga’ as the typical morning crew. Your own nametag reads ‘Valkyrie,’ but everyone calls you ‘Val.’ The previous Valkyrie drops by sometimes (for fun, she calls herself Brunhilde, if anyone asks) to tell the rest of you about her job working as personal security for some uber rich CEO.

For some reason, Thor always disappears into the back when she shows up, and it was during one of those times that you first met Steve. You fill in as the order-taker when Thor’s not around, so there you were, looking up at the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. He’d been wearing a silver-gray suit with a blue shirt that perfectly matched his eyes, and most of all, he seemed to exude an aura of kindness you found really attractive.

“What can I get for you?”

“I like to ask the barista what the shop specialty is, when I try a new place,” he’d said, smiling kindly at you.

“Right now we’re featuring Caramelstruck, an iced caramel latte with lightning bolts of caramel on the sides of the cup,” you had said, noting with your typical intuition that it might be a bit too fancy for his tastes. “A simpler option to try would be our Red Valkyrie, a warm red velvet latte. It goes very well with the white chocolate hoofprint cookies.”

“That sounds great; I have a little time before my client shows up.” As he’d handed you his card, Steve had said, “Is that your favorite?”

You’d frozen in confusion, and Steve (he still hasn’t told you his last name countless visits later, and you’re pretty sure that’s because he knows you’d use it out of deference, if you knew what it was) had just nodded toward your nametag.

“Oh,” you’d said vacantly as you handed his card back (you go back over this moment in your mind on bad days and worse nights). “Right.”

“I’ll guess that it isn’t, then,” he’d said, offering you a respectful nod before heading away from the counter. No one was in line behind him, so you’d tidied up the register area and surreptitiously watched him pick up his drink and go sit at a two top. At least none of your coworkers had noticed you forget how to be a person in the face of male beauty?

Except for Loki, but the cat always meowed his snark at the lot of you. It was part of his princely charm.

The next time Steve came in was more than a month later. The shop was pretty busy, and you’d been the one making his order. He’d opted for a very simple drink, but because Thor was in one of his moods, you were supposed to ask if each person wanted shaved white chocolate on their drinks in honor of a really early snow. You’d held the cup up and called out a name, and there he was, Steve in the suit (blue this time, oh my god).

You’d blurted out, “Do you want shaved?”

Steve had looked at you.

You had looked at Steve, knowing any attempt you’d make at fixing things would go badly.

“I’d say something like, ‘only if you have a steady hand,’ but something tells me that might make the moment more awkward,” he had said.

“Shaved chocolate,” you’d whispered, and he had smiled.

“I’d love some. Thank you.”

Ever since, Steve makes eye contact with you when he gets in line, and you dearly wish you knew whether that means he thinks his particular presence makes you stupid, or what. He’s always really kind about it, though, and the ribbing that your coworkers had started up back in November has died down to a disgruntled rumble.

You don’t understand why they’re so grumpy. Everyone has ‘their’ customers, the ones happy to see them in particular, and it never really means anything. In the six months since Steve first came into the shop, you’d made ‘kindred spirit’ connections with 2 other customers! Sure, you spend more time thinking about Steve than you do about Hal the Flat White Connoisseur, but who wouldn’t?

It’s Valentine’s Day, and you hope you’ll see Ruby, the retiree. You’d persuaded Thor to get Ruby Chocolate, a pink variation that you’re offering to shave into people’s coffees. ‘Can I shave some you into your coffee?’ is going to be simply delightful.

You have five minutes left on your shift when you look up and catch sight of Steve walking in. As usual, he’s got a briefcase, but unusually, he’s also carrying a long, thin canvas bag with something boxy in it. When he looks for you, the two of you make eye contact right away-- but this time, after his smile, he looks uncomfortable for some reason. You wonder what’s up, but you have a job to finish up doing, so you refocus.

You get the ‘Steve’ cup started and see that it’s the Red Valkyrie, one of the more popular drinks during your shift, given the day.

“Shaved chocolate in your cup?” you offer Steve, and he nods, his attention taken up by something or someone behind you. You feel a little twinge of disappointment-- if your coworkers are going to tease you about this man, the least they could do is not distract him when he shows up!

You maintain your pleasant expression, though, and when you hand him his cup, Steve takes it with a little finger swipe against your hand. You freeze still, unable to avoid enjoying the little frisson of excitement.

“I can clock you out, Val, if you have plans this fine evening!” Thor booms behind you. Steve takes his drink and steps away, and you whirl around, eyes wide.

“Did you have to announce-- I mean, I don’t, I don’t have plans, but--”

“That is welcome news, I think,” Thor says gently, nodding over your shoulder. When you look, Steve is settling down at a table by the window, laying out his odd package in behind his coffee cup. He takes a sip; the sweet smile crossing his face gives you mixed feelings. By all rights he ought to be meeting a young woman here, or if he isn’t, that smile should belong to that young woman, a recollection of their time together-- but you dearly wish you could prompt him to look like that.

“Val?”

You startle again, realizing that Heimdall is trying to take over your station, and you’re in the way.

“Sorry, sorry,” you mumble, stepping back and untying your apron.

“I foresee you forgetting this whole incident in short order,” he teases you. Heimdall has really leaned into the archetype, he’s always prophesying and joking about what he Sees.

“Right, because I’ll be jostling with my fellow man as I mount the multiperson chariot,” you shoot back before heading into the back. You don’t mind taking the bus, but some days it’s more stressful than not. Holidays tend to be like that. People are rushing to be somewhere by a certain time, and they can always somehow sense that there’s not much fight in you. Since starting at this job, you’ve felt a lot more empowered to stand up for yourself, though. Working at a place that exhorts you to ‘be in charge’ of your own life, with a boss that treats you like a valued partner probably has a lot to do with it.

Thor would argue that it’s also about the ‘lightning energy of caffeine,’ but he’s definitely touched by the Aesir, or something.

You freshen up a little bit in the mirror before you leave the back. You’d worn a cute outfit today, mostly to declaw the nosy comments of some of the patrons, who'd wanted to know if you have a date later. Frigga had warned you yesterday: if you’re in regular clothes, they’ll lament about your prospects, but if you’re already dressed up, they just assume the best.

Steve’s still at his table when you walk out, but now there’s a long, ribboned box in the place where the canvas bag had been. You smile warmly at him on your way to the door, and to your surprise, he calls out to you and gets up to come over.

“Will you sit with me a minute?”

“I--” You’re speechless.

“Please?”

His smile is so charming that you nod shyly. Steve pulls out a chair for you (!), and once you’re seated, he rubs at his beard and looks down at the table.

“I wanted to thank you for being a smiling, welcoming face when I come in. I have to admit I’ve looked forward to seeing you, whether or not that’s appropriate,” he says quietly.

“That’s one of the things we try to do, actually-- give people the sense that they’re stopping by to get coffee from people they trust, friends, even,” you tell him.

For some reason, that doesn’t hit the way you expected. Steve winces a little, then nods. When he looks at your face again, though, he seems to realize he’s concerned you.

“That’s a good thing, don’t get me wrong. I meant me, I’m inappropriate.”

The warm look on his face is doing things to your insides, and it does not help that your coworkers at the counter are doing their level best to watch you without looking like they are.

“I can’t imagine what that would even look like,” you say, attempting to reassure Steve. You can and have, many times, and your blood heats up just remembering some of them.

“It looks a little like this,” Steve tells you, and he reaches over and removes the lid from the long rectangular box. Inside the box are red long-stem roses, a whole lot of them. You gasp, and he says, “I got you twelve roses. Five for each month I should have asked you out, and seven more for the time I’m hoping to pick you up for dinner tomorrow.”

You’d been reaching out a tentative hand toward the flowers, but as soon as he says ‘should have asked you out,’ they’re forgotten as you stare at the sheepish smile on his handsome face.

“Really?” you whisper, stunned. You’re standing on the precipice of joy, but it’s hard to let yourself drop without being absolutely sure.

“Really. I wanted to thank you, by the way. I work with some people who have been really beaten down by an unjust system, the kind of system full of people who look and sound like me. As you can imagine, it’s hard for them to relax and be honest at the law office.” Steve traces a droplet of coffee on the table, his jaw clenching. It’s easy to think that he’s picturing some of that injustice, and just witnessing this opens your heart even more towards him. “I’ve started to bring new clients here instead, for that first meeting. It’s done a world of good for that level of trust, and part of that is the atmosphere you and your coworkers have created.”

“Yes,” you say, the word breathy but somehow still too loud. You close your eyes tightly and try not to spontaneously combust from everything that’s happening right now. “Yes to the date, yes to you being the person I was hoping you were. And yes, I just said that out loud!”

You open your eyes to see Steve smiling, joyful, just like you are.

“That has to be the best first conversation I’ve had at this table since I started bringing clients here.” The two of you laugh, and it’s easy, despite the pressure you feel to get every part of this right. “Do you mind if I ask for your number? I assume you’d rather meet me or have me pick you up for dinner, instead of giving the peanut gallery more to rib you about.”

“Yes, good idea,” you say, digging your phone out and opening it up to contacts in as calm a manner as you can manage. “You realize this means you’ll have to tell me your last name, finally? I have my theories about why you kept that back.”

He actually rubs his neck in chagrin, at this. “You caught me. I’ll text you with it later--”

“Steve!” you interrupt, frustrated. “It’s about respect!”

The warmth in his eyes intensifies, at this. “I get it. I have a bit of a reputation-- nothing bad, I promise. Name recognition, that’s all.” Your eyes widen at this, but you nod. Before you can say anything else, his watch beeps, and so does his phone. Steve holds it up. “Duty calls.”

“I’ll look forward to hearing from you, truly,” you say, standing up. That’s when you remember the roses, and you’re struck by their beauty in the box for a long minute, during which Steve just watches you. You catch his scrutiny from the corner of your eye, and let out a little embarrassed laugh. “Sorry, these are simply stunning. Thank you again.”

“You seem like exactly the person I was hoping you’d be too,” Steve says, standing up. “This meeting will be a few hours, I’ll make sure to send you a message by seven tonight.”

He offers you a respectful nod and walks out. You’re left with the twelve most beautiful roses you’ve ever seen, a heart full of possibilities, and an obnoxiously nosy group of coworkers who rush over as soon as Steve’s suited figure turns the street corner and walks out of view.

Steve is as good as his word-- he sends you a message with a few upscale restaurant options (complete with links to their websites, which you feel is a pro move, but not a player one). He signs his name ‘Steve Rogers,’ which definitely sounds familiar.

Even though you know he’s expecting you to do it, you still feel a little icky googling his name. You know some people go as far as scanning years of social media and ordering up criminal backgrounds on their dates, and you were never that person. The search pops up-- and there are pages of results. And yes, you’ve heard of him.

Steve Rogers is one of the country’s preeminent humanitarian lawyers. He’s just got done arguing a case in front of the Supreme Court. And you have a date with him tomorrow.

#avengersbingo #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #captain america x f!reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #steve rogers x you #captain america x you

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