Overflowers

If I did anything right in my life, it was when I gave my heart to you.

[bluehourgarden]

Love

noun.

1. Her name is Imani

"If I did anything right in my life, it was when I gave my heart to you."

verb.

2. A hopeless romantic Virgo, 22, INFP, cabin 3, optimistic overthinker, oldest daughter, Adhd, sweet summer baby.

𐙚 Tags

-silk sheets ; smut

-love zone ; fluff

-mind of mani

𐙚 Links

-Main: @muvioleta

Spotify

-Lads: @seaofgoldenstars

Pinterest

[littleapplle]

00:40.

I feel like a lot of people forget just how romantic rafayel is and can be.

Because sensuality comes with ease to him. He's a creature from the deep, incarnated in the body sculpted by the waves that break harshly against the rocks close to the shore, with the facial features of a god, surely hand painted with care by sea nymphs.

And before being something worthy of unending worship and adoration, the kind you'd drop on your knees, pray, praise, and bowl in respect, Rafayel is an artist.

Beside the inextinguishable flame in his heart, there is the burning passion of performing. Not literally, but Rafayel is something big, meant to be seen. Love and seduction come with ease to a being like him. His tongue is sharp but always drips with honey when you need it the most, and his bicolor hues burn with nothing but pure, genuine dedication.

So when you call him after work, voice low and strangled like a tormented sailor during a harsh storm, he listens. Waiting for the right moment to lure you in like a siren. Not out of malice, never, just the urge to tend to your troubled, seafarer mind.

And once you arrive at his studio, dragged in by his lovely voice, he's already waiting for your arrival in a silky robe, a bottle of wine in one hand while the other holds two crystal glasses.

Moonlight peeks through the thin, light fabric of the curtains adorning the tall windows of the studio. He guides you to the bathroom, and you wonder for a moment how much air can his lungs actually hold in. His humming, lullaby like, never stops.

His steps are light. If it weren't for his sweet voice, you'd barely be able to spot him in the dark corridor. The bathroom door is ajar, letting the candles’ flames finally give you a proper view of your lover.

You don't process if it's tiredness, his voice or both that make your brain grow foggy and your eyes droopy but you pay no mind, giving yourself entirely to him as an act of trust, a prayer to the one you worship with fervor.

His hands handle you with genuine care. His lips meet the back of your neck, and his nose fits just right on nape. Like a piece of a shattered porcelain art piece that slowly comes all together once again.

With his help and guidance, your dirty uniform falls on the floor. Your bare body is barely illuminated by the shaky flames burning the candles’ wick.

You're the first one to sink into the warm, scented water on his stupidly large tub. The atmosphere is too cozy, and soon, your mind finds ease and well-deserved rest.

Rafayel's eyes stare at you with a loving gaze. The intimacy that doesn't necessarily need to be sexual to feel good. That's where he feels at home.

His siren melody falters, giving space for a chuckle to leave his throat once he notices your sleepy form.

Silently, his robes come undone, and he joins you on the bathtub, a glass in hand. Sipping the velvety liquid, he guides your limp body closer to his, worried you'll slip and choke on soapy water while sleeping.

Rafayel is a sly, smart siren that lures you in when you need it the most. Rafayel is the artist that has you as his muse. Rafayel is the man who puts on extra performances like this as acts of praise.

And he wouldn't have it in any other way.

I wrote this in an hour while watching tiktok uhmm

[traumxrei-archive]

【 the shape of one's heart 】

author's note: hello and welcome to yet another leona kingscholar fic sjkdfjsf (the amount of l/ve i have for this man...unimaginable !!) part a birthday fic, part a character study, and part fluffy romance, i hope you enjoy reading <33 (UPDATE, aug 3: i rewrote the ending of iv. capture >:333)

characters: leona kingscholar x gn! prefect, ruggie bucchi, jack howl, falena kingscholar, cheka kingscholar

word count: 4.5k

tags: leona character study !! (or an attempt at one), happy birthday to dummy lion, your honor i love him therefore i psychoanalyze him, fluff is justice, but also there's angst, so watch out haha—, him and prefect are just <333, i. ii. iii. are mostly char study n iv. is where most of the romance lies

[ or read it on ao3 (to be added soon)]

i. gloves

It all started with an innocent question. "Why do you wear gloves all the time?" Leona blinked at them, yet he gave no answer. Instead, he recalled the first time he felt the coarseness of sand against the palm of his hands.

His unique magic came to him violently; suddenly. It really did feel like a sand storm had swept him up into the air, his body all but pinwheeling from the loss of control. He remembered his vision shaking with anger that the younger him couldn't contain; the laughter and mocking of some petty servants still reverberating in his ears.

He remembered bumping into a vase, his fingers lightly brushing against its smooth surface before it dissolved into grains of sand; falling through his fingers as if it never existed in the first place. He reeled back in horror, grabbing onto anything to cushion his fall. It just so happened that he grabbed a fistful of drapery; all of which fell in a shower of sand around him.

When he looked up he could see the servants scattering away from him, terrified looks on their faces. He remembered being scared of himself, vision blurring as he explained to Falena and his father what happened.

That was the day King's Roar first surfaced. A Unique Magic was supposed to be a blessing, and yet…it never felt that way to Leona. If anything, it felt like another burden was added onto his shoulders. (The rumors around him began to grow even larger, and it wasn’t rare for him to hear that he had “the power to destroy their kingdom.” Leona simply tried to ignored them.)

Leona started wearing gloves not long after that. He couldn't control his power all that well for the first month or two. The gloves gave him enough time to react; if he felt them turning into dust he could let go of whatever or whoever he was holding.

Even after all those years, the habit stayed. Every day he tugged on leather gloves, feeling a minute yet present comfort at the feel of them. He only ever took them off during Magift matches. The only potential casualties were the Magift disc and his magic pen after all.

(Leona tried not to recall the feeling of skin flaking underneath his touch; the intention to hurt finally winning over his rationality. But whenever he saw the scar on Ruggie's arm he could only remember the memory with bitter remorse. Never again, he vowed.)

He flicked the herbivore's forehead for asking, "Shut up, 'm tryna nap." Leona let his eyes close, taking in a breath of air free of the unsettling heat of sand. He no longer had to be concerned about losing control, but that didn't make his power any less terrifying. His gloves flexed with his fingers as he stretched, cushioning his head as he dozed off once more.

ii. dreams

Leona didn't dream. Sleeping was sleeping for him. It was simply an activity to pass by listless days. Still, it was impossible for him to escape every dream.

Sometimes, dreams would find him; a little too sweet and inviting. Promises of glory and recognition. Of crowns placed within treses of brown. Of emerald eyes casting its gaze upon something that was finally, truly his.

Leona hated dreams. When he would wake up, all he could do was try convincing himself that it wasn't real. That it was a truth that he wouldn't ever get what he really wanted.

And what did he really want? A second prince that was labeled a failure of a student; what could Leona Kingscholar want? No matter how he claimed he didn't care, the want still simmered in his veins— stifled yet present.

Leona wanted. He wanted so much that it almost hurt to breathe. But he was blessed with the intellect to know that he couldn't get those things he wanted.

Many called him stupid and lazy for being such a promising mage yet wasting away within NRC's botanical gardens. But they didn't know of the effort that Leona put into getting to where he was.

The days of his childhood he spent studying. Enduring the royal tutors who always compared him to his brother and berated his intellect. The nights he spent poring over books in the royal library on his own volition; trying in vain to find a way to take the throne as his.

(Sadly, Afterglow Savanna valued birthright, and try as he might, the only way to take the throne was to overthrow his brother or...kill him. The younger him had shivered at the thought of it. Even if he resented Falena to hell and back, he couldn't ever try to kill him.)

Even his simplest dream of winning a school Magift tournament was completely destroyed by the future King of the Valley of Thorns. Yet another person that reminded him of Falena. It was the nth bitter reminder that he could never truly be first in anything. And after being disappointed at every turn, maybe Leona Kingscholar didn't see a point in dreaming anymore.

So if someone were to ask him what his dream was, there was a chance Leona would answer with "I have no dreams."

"-ona. Leona," There was an arm shaking his shoulder. Leona let out a disgruntled groan, opening an eye to see who disturbed his nap.

Oh. It was just them.

"Herbivore," Leona acknowledged, voice still hoarse from sleep. "You're late."

The herbivore stayed quiet for a moment before they spoke, "Sorry about that, I took up part-time at Sam's during lunches." There was a slight pause before they continued, "But what happened? Were you having a nightmare?"

"What makes you say that?" Leona sat up with a yawn.

"You were frowning really hard in your sleep," There was a finger poking at his brow. "Even your forehead was all wrinkled."

"Mm," Leona dismissed the question. "It wasn't a nightmare." The herbivore didn't seem all that convinced by that answer, but they let it go.

Leona Kingscholar didn't dream. But maybe he had to remedy that statement. There was one dream that sprouted deep within him lately that he didn't completely hate, even if he knew it was impossible to fulfill. He hoped that these simple days at NRC would never end.

iii. visitor

Visitors and Leona Kingscholar shouldn't ever exist in the same sentence in Leona's humble opinion. So it was easy to imagine just how excited Leona was when Crowley barged into a Magift Club practice he had to announce he had a visitor. He left another third year in charge, swearing under his breath all the while.

And it was even easier to imagine how simply overjoyed he was to see Crowley holding up a little ball of fur that was guaranteed to give him a headache.

His nephew lit up at the sight of him, "Ojitan!"

He held the giggling cub away from him, scowling, "Why the hell is the brat here?"

"Now, now, Kingscholar-kun!" Crowley tutted, eyes curving into gleeful crescents. "His majesty, Falena asked me for a favor, and his highness will only be here for a day, nothing more, nothing less. I've also taken the liberty of excusing you from all classes today."

"Oh right!" Crowley's clawed fingers snapped. "I almost forgot, I enlisted the help of some very capable personnel to assist you."

He heard the huffing and puffing even before they appeared in front of him. There they were, out-of-breath like they ran all the way to the fields from the main building. Leona debated tossing Cheka into their arms and making a run for it.

"This– This is the... life-threatening emergency that only I could take care of?" Their voice sounded indignant, and Leona felt his ears twitch the slightest bit.

Maybe he could put up with it. Just for today. Besides, he got a free pass to skip class for the day and he could spend it all with the herbivore? Obviously, it was a win-win situation— if only Cheka wouldn't absolutely annoy him.

"Here," Leona dropped Cheka into their arms. "Crowley'll pay you a standard rate per hour so you'll get your money's worth. Follow me." He knew that they would follow if he mentioned money. For some reason, they had been working themselves so ragged that even a certain hyena was complimenting them about it.

They ended up in Leona's room, the kid blabbering some nonsense about how he was the "greatest uncle in all of existence" and how he "worked hard so that Papa would let him visit cuz it was almost Ojitan’s birthday."

Leona sprawled out on his bed, watching the kid cautiously looking around his room. They took a seat at his desk, glancing between him and the brat every once in a while, "So I just...play with him...?"

"Make sure he doesn't get hurt either," Leona gave a deep sigh, seeing his phone light up with a call from his dearest brother and ignoring it. "Oneesama would kill me if he got hurt."

"Right," They nodded, trailing off to follow Cheka's wanderings.

Leona spared another glance at Cheka's sunset-colored hair. The sight of it had been burned into his memory ever since they first met.

Leona blinked and he was back to being seventeen, still living in the confines of the palace. He had rejected the invitation in NRC, still hellbent on trying to find a way to get himself to the throne. (How utterly foolish, he now thought.)

The hallways were filled with the sound of celebration. Usually, Leona wouldn't take interest in what was going on in the palace. But this time, the fanfare came to find him. There was a knock on his door, Falena's attendant telling him that the King had called for him. He should've known that something big had happened when even he was smiling.

Yet it wasn't until Falena was ushering him towards a cot (newly installed) and seeing his Oneesama resting in bed (sweat beading at her brows) that Leona really understood what was going on.

It felt like a kick to the chest when he saw him for the first time. Bright yellow and orange hair, rounded nose, and a pudgy face. Brown rounded ears that were a little too big, dressed in royal colors. The spitting image of Falena with a sprinkling of Oneesama, condensed into a child.

"This is your new nephew," Falena had said, his voice sounding so far away. "The naming ceremony won't be until tomorrow, but I'll tell you his name beforehand: Cheka Kingscholar."

Cheka Kingscholar.

This tiny little cub whose hand was a tenth of his was now the new rightful heir of Afterglow Savanna. He thought that he had at least a year before something like this happened, but it seemed like his time had been cut short.

He couldn't help but run away; away from that room, away from the child, away from Falena, and far, far away from everyone who would be able to see the tears streaking down his face.

On the day of the naming ceremony, Leona slinked through the halls, avoiding the guards and servants who busily moved about. He didn't want to get caught and dragged out to face the people after all.

Suddenly, his ears picked up a sharp wailing noise. He turned a corner, following the noise to a room. The door clicked open easily and he recognized it immediately.

It was his nephew's new room. And sure enough, there Cheka Kingscholar was, complete with tears rolling down flushed cheeks and fluffy ears flattened against unruly hair.

"Why're you crying, brat?" Leona leaned over the crib, watching as the baby kept crying. "You've got everything I ever wanted to have... A loving family, the right to the throne, and everyone adores you." He reached a hand forward, gripping the edge of the crib.

He inhaled sharply. And gave the crib a gentle push, letting it rock the slightest bit. Slowly but surely, the cries came to a stop. When he looked down, Cheka's sparkling eyes were staring at him. The kid had the audacity to let out a giggle he saw him, grabbing at his hair successfully.

"What? Are you laughing at me?" He raised a brow, steadying the crib. He had to admit that the brat was a little bit cute even if he was tugging a little too hard at his hair.

Leona paused before voicing his realization, "Hey, now that you've taken my succession rights, you better become a better king than I could be." He found that he couldn't bring himself to hate this little cub, despite him bringing an end to all his dreams.

There was a lump in his throat as he kept speaking, "So don't bother with me, alright? I'll just be your scary uncle that never visits. So...just forget about me."

At that point, Leona realized how pointless it was to talk to a literal baby. He quickly left the room, watching the door for a few minutes until he saw Oneesama enter the room.

And within the same week, he walked into NRC's Hall of Mirrors for the first time; the Mirror frantically shouting that his soul perfectly matched Savanaclaw. There were times when Leona felt bitter. Where he would long for the throne yet again, but he knew it was a hopeless endeavor.

"Ojitan! I've got something to give you!" Leona blinked away his daze only to be met with a brightly smiling Cheka.

He turned up his nose, "Do it quick, screech box, I’ve got things to do."

"Like sleeping," the herbivore commented drily; though he mercifully chose to ignore it this time.

"Here!" Cheka pushed something right at his face. "Open it now!"

It was a card, written in messy handwriting and punctuated by random doodles and spontaneous bursts of glitter. Leona looked at the drawings in a daze. There was a figure that was clearly Cheka, along with his parents. And right next to Falena was a figure that looked suspiciously like him.

"Happy Early Birthday!" Cheka cheered, climbing right into his lap. He nuzzled his face right into his neck, little arms wrapping around Leona’s shoulders.

"Brat," Leona said in a warning tone, pushing at the cub's face. "My birthday isn't for a while, but...thanks." He could see how Cheka lit up at the praise, practically bouncing and planting a kiss on his cheek before running back to the herbivore.

"He said 'thank you'!" Cheka preened as if a 'thank you' from him was worth thousands of thaumarks. They said something in return but Leona wasn't listening. He was still staring at the hastily drawn picture, the paper creasing where he held it too tight.

Even if it felt like a burden, family would always be family to Leona. That was the reason that he couldn't raise a hand against Falena, even if he was an ever-present thorn at his side. And that was the reason why he couldn't send Cheka away, even if he disturbed his peace.

(And if that card ended up in the confines of one of his rarely-used drawers, safely preserved with a protective spell, then well...Leona wouldn't know anything about it.)

iv. captured

“Checkmate.”

“Urk,” The Savanaclaw student in front of him winced as he stared down at the chessboard. “T-that was fast…”

Leona let a smirk spread on his face as he watched the student reset the board. He loosened his bolo tie as he sat, resting his chin in an open hand.

“Wow, I’m starting to get goosebumps,” Ruggie’s voice couldn’t have been any farther away from admiration. “Is this your fortieth win today?”

“Forty-first,” Leona corrected, his eyes languidly combing the room for a certain face. “I’m taking a break now.”

As Ruggie continued to fuss with his ever-growing pile of presents, Leona went back to searching the crowd. Quite a lot of people had come for the celebration of his birthday.

But the one he was really looking for was…running around serving drinks.

Leona bit back a sigh. Of course they would be one of the people working in this crowd. Hell, even that busy-bodied octopunk wasn’t lifting a finger for his birthday. It was half-amusing and half-frustrating to see.

His ears twitched as he heard footsteps approaching him, and there was Jack. A plate piled high full of meat rested in the burly freshman’s hands as he shifted from left to right.

“Uh…” Jack coughed. “I thought Leona-senpai might’ve been hungry, so I got you something.”

He stared at Jack before, tilting his head to the table, “Put it down there, pup.”

“Please don’t call me that,” Jack said, though Leona could see the stable swish of his tail behind him. “I got a variety of meat for you, senpai. So happy birthday and I promise I’ll catch up to you in spelldrive soon.”

He watched as Jack left. If Jack was a chess piece, Leona was sure he would be a knight. Knights move in their rigid L-shape, yet it is a powerful piece. They can be the very force that topples the stability of a game. They’re able to break through defenses that other pieces might not be able to touch.

Leona rolled his eyes at the thought. Was it because it was his birthday that he was feeling sentimental? Anyway, all he knew was that Jack was undoubtedly a part of his pride; the small circle of people that Leona let befriend him.

“Eh~ Leona-san not finishing a plate of meat in two seconds?” Ruggie’s voice reached him faster than the lightness of his steps. “Next thing I know you’ll tell me you went vegetarian, shishishishi~”

“Shut it, Ruggie,” Leona stabbed a fork into a steak, his fangs cutting through the meat like butter. “And go get me a drink while you’re at it.”

“But, Leona-san, wouldn’t you rather get a drink delivered to you by your precious little herbivore?” Leona wasn’t sure what part of him betrayed his thoughts; his tail, ears, or even his expression but Ruggie burst into laughter. “This is so rich! Give me a sec, it’ll be a special service since it’s my boss’ birthday.”

“Oi, Ruggie—”

But before he could even utter another word, Ruggie had sped off into the crowd. Leona sighed for two reasons: one, because he almost felt sorry for all the people Ruggie had mugged in the crowd, and two, because Ruggie was a little too observant at times.

If Ruggie was a chess piece, he would be a pawn. That might be cruel to say, but pawns are a formidible piece. They might go unnoticed like infantry in a war. And yet only pawns are able to sneak through the board to bring another queen into the battle. An expert at rallying allies and an unseen giant in chess. That was the pawn.

Leona placed his fork on the table, before speaking, “You’re a hundred years early if you wanna sneak up on me like that.”

“How did you- Never mind,” They shuffled in front of him, carrying a tray of drinks. “What would you like to drink?”

“Hmm?” Leona felt his tail rising into the air, though he didn’t stop it. “Aren’t you supposed to be more polite to the birthday boy?”

Their brows furrowed, “You didn’t even like being called the birthday boy!”

“And what? I can’t change my mind on that?” Leona felt a slow smirk grow on his face the more they looked like they were about to deck him with the drink tray.

“Alright.” They took a breath. “Happiest of days of birth, Leona Kingscholar! If you would be so inclined to state your preference of beverage, I shall happily acquire it for you.”

Leona’s smirk twisted into a frown, “Never do that ever again.”

There was a small smile toying at their lips before they put down a glass, “Fine. Here, I heard this drink was your favorite.”

“You’re gonna leave just like that?” Emerald green eyes softened just a little upon meeting their gaze. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get your favorite lion a gift, herbivore.”

They sighed in what Leona thought was exasperation, “Of course I did. It’s sitting in your room.”

“Then let’s go.”

“Huh?” Leona had to admit, seeing their eyes blinking at him in confusion like that was pretty damn cute.

“C'mon herbivore, let’s ditch the party for a bit,” Leona stood up, casting a spell on both of them while he waved a hand. This way people wouldn’t be able to see him leave.

“Wait a sec, what about the cake?” They blurted, hand secured in Leona’s own. And for once, Leona was glad he wasn’t wearing his gloves, relishing in the warm press of his palm against theirs.

“I don’t like sweets,” Leona reminded, leading them through the hallways of the Savanaclaw dormitories.

“I know, but— why am I coming with you anyway? You could open it by yourself, can’t you?” But at that point, Leona had already made up his mind.

“Indulge in me for a little, herbivore,” Leona’s expression filled with mirth. “Tonight’s supposed to be a celebration for me, right?”

“You— I seriously think that you’re overdoing it on the birthday boy thing,” They grumbled as the pair finally made it into the privacy of Leona’s room. The sounds of the party gently trickled in through Leona’s open windows, and he spotted their gift easily.

It was a small box, a simple piece of twine with a tag completing the present. He started to shake it, only to be interrupted by their gasp, “Wait! It’ll break if you handle it carelessly!”

Leona raised a brow, “’S it really that fragile? Fine, I’ll open it carefully, alright?” They nodded, looking infinitely more nervous now, though Leona couldn’t fathom why.

Inside the box was a smaller metal box. He turned it around in his hands, “What am I supposed to do with this?” They hesitated, before pressing one of the buttons on the side.

An image flickered to life on a holographic screen. He poked a finger through it, watching the display distort around his fingers. The pictures changed every few seconds, each one more surprising than the last.

“It’s…a photo album,” They handed the box back to him. “There’s a lot of pictures in there, I dug some up from the school newspaper and magicam account. There are also pictures I got from his majesty, Falena too. I had the device commissioned by Ignihyde, which is why it’s so…futuristic looking.”

“It must’ve cost a lotta money,” Leona said quietly, unable to take his eyes off the pictures. There were pictures of him as a child sprinkled amongst his memories in NRC. There were even pictures that were no doubt their work; evident from the way Leona recognized all his favorite napping spots in the background.

“That’s right,” They nudged at his elbow. “You should appreciate my hard work.” And it hit Leona right then and there that the reason they had been working so hard— the very reason they needed all that money in the first place— was because of this very gift in his hands. There was a lump in his throat as more and more pictures passed; the memories flashing in his mind both bitter and sweet.

“I do,” He placed the box down, turning to face them. "Thank you.”

The thanks that left Leona’s lips were more sincere than he was expecting. But Leona wasn’t surprised anymore considering these complicated feelings that swirled around his heart. He already tried suppressing them; acting unfairly mean, and arrogant towards them, even going as far as ignoring them for a while. But to Leona, it felt even worse to be without them than it was to have them around, even if they didn’t know of his feelings. So he swallowed his self-deprecation and anxiety in order to stay with them. He had already made up his mind to let those feelings stay, even if he wasn’t equipped with the knowledge to adequately express them.

Ah, but if they were a chess piece, would they be the queen to his king? The king was quite lazy. The most important piece, and yet he doesn’t move around all that much. He was always being protected by other pieces, whilst the queen was free to move around as she wished. The queen was fitting for them; in the way they ran head-first into battles they might not even win. Though, there was something bothering him with this thought.

Another possibility entered his mind not soon after: what if they were his king?

If they were chess pieces in Leona’s imaginary game, it would make the utmost sense if they were the king. The king was no doubt the center of the game. A piece to be protected at all costs, lest the game is lost. Just like how they were always in the center of everything and everyone here at NRC. And if they were the king, then he would willingly become their queen. Because for them, there wasn’t anything Leona wouldn’t give.

“The Leona Kingscholar thanking little old me?” Leona let his tail swat at their face. “It was a joke, really! I’m just glad that you liked it. I wasn’t sure if you’d like this type of gift.”

“This type of gift being…?”

“A sentimental gift,” A smile tugged at their lips. “I guess there are even days where the great Leona Kingscholar feels sentimental.”

And instead of refuting it, Leona simply agreed, “I guess there are.”

Matters of the heart seemed to elude him, but for them, Leona was willing to be a fool in love. They had somehow captured him, disarming all of Leona’s carefully constructed defenses and taking his heart as their own. 

Even now, as they blinked at him, completely unaware of his internal dilemma, Leona couldn’t help but bump his head against theirs in fondness. The little squawk they let out at the sudden motion only served to make him smile, though he quickly hid it with a turn of his head.

“Watch the rest of it with me,” The offer was whispered; as if Leona was too afraid to break the silence that had surrounded them. They nodded, and Leona was all too happy to shuffle towards the pillows on his bed. After getting in a more, mm, comfortable position, which entailed using the herbivore as a pillow, he was content to watch the pictures change. He offered up a couple of comments on a few pictures, earning a few hums in reply. 

Leona didn’t get to cut the cake with his dorm mates that year; much to the disappointment of many. To him, it was the first birthday that he truly felt like he belonged. And those memories were more precious and infinitely sweeter than the taste that any expensive cake could bring him.

thank you for reading ! i hope you enjoyed and once again, happy birthday to leona kingscholar <333 if you'd like to read more, check out my masterlist >:DDD

[cherry-burst]

🔞 MDNI || Thinking about Rafayel being so noisy and loud during the deed is making me go crazy.

Even small touches have him moaning, but full blown sex would make him so goddamn loud and whimpery. He literally can't help it. You feel so good. Too good. Its actually surreal that youre even letting him make love to you at all.

He's got goosebumps running up and down his arms with every kiss you press on his neck. His grip is tighter everytime you grind against him.

100% he's moaning your name and holy fuck does it sound desperate and deprived. His moans getting a bit pitched when you praise him. Because oh my god does he have a praise kink. Like, actual 'kink' territory. And you know you have to exploit it to make him so needy and whiny sounding. Devolving him into a pathetic (affectionate) mess.

You getting on top, riding him so he can watch just sends Rafayel into orbit. He drinks in the sight of you, his heart hammering away while he makes every pleasure noise there is. His eyes dark and broody, lustful bedroom eyes. He's not even ashamed of the sounds he makes. (not until morning when he recalls it, that is).

Of course, he can be in charge, in control from the start. But tonight he's needing some TLC, some extra affection from you, some physical proof that your promise to stay with him still stands. And it makes him weak when you do prove it, over and over again with your body and your words.

His hands on you, his hands all over you, and fuck, he's trembling. Its just a result of him being on that knifes edge of release for so goddamn long. But he holds back, he doesn't want to cum first. You have to go first, he has to know he made you feel good before he can relax and let go.

You absolutely could not hook-up with him while others were nearby. They'd hear him immediately and the two of you would be caught.

[woncheolisms]

purple and pink. (rafayel x reader)

summary: you and rafayel cover yourselves in paint and (redacted).

word count: 3450

warnings: porn without plot, smut, swearing, nsfw, mdni, fem!reader

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

a/n: my brain is rotting for this man so this is just self indulgent crap atp

You weren’t exactly an artistic person.

You just never indulged in art before. Of course, you admired the craft and thought it was extremely difficult to actually create meaningful art. But you didn’t think you were a particularly creative person, nor did you think you had an eye for such stuff.

Ever since you began dating Rafayel, you would say your appreciation for art had definitely improved. How could it not, considering he spent all day creating it, and in the time he wasn’t, his world was still colored by the lens of it. Rafayel saw art everywhere he went, in the gentle roll of the water where it rippled in fountains, or the timid but pinpoint light of a lone star in a dark sky. He loved describing it to you, and the way he put it would make you look around twice. He had really changed the way you viewed the world.

What you were about to do now wasn’t exactly the kind of art that made you think deeply of the universe, but hey, not all art can make you question your existence. Sometimes you need to create….. lighter pieces.

Stepping back, you stared down at the bed sheet sized canvas you had stuck to the floor, sure that you had used enough adhesive to keep it temporarily in place. The clock on the far wall of the studio told you that Rafayel would be home in a little while, which meant you needed to start the next phase of your plan shortly. But first things first, you needed lighter clothes.

After you had switched your jeans and button down shirt for a thin, short robe, you began pulling down buckets of paint from the storage closet connecting to the main studio. You chose only two, a light purple and a light pink. Both colors you knew Rafayel liked using in his pieces. You might not know a whole lot about art, but you knew him inside out. And you also knew he would love this idea.

You spent the next few minutes going over the canvas with the two buckets, pouring a few globs of paint over it. Small, but dense, with lots of blank canvas around them so they could be spread. You decided to only do two or three globs of each color. After all, wasn’t the art in how the colors would move and slide on the canvas? This should be enough paint for that purpose.

Your face was heating up at the thought of what was about to happen, and you felt almost giddy. When was he going to be home? You couldn’t wait to get started.

As if on cue, the door of the studio clicked open, not making a single sound as your boyfriend lumbered in, closing the door behind him. His white shirt was loose, black pants tight, and you couldn’t help but admire his ass when he turned around to shut the door with a light snap.

“Hey-” He stopped almost immediately upon seeing you, eyeing the half empty paint can you were setting down and the flimsy robe covering your body. A body that was definitely naked under it.

“What are you doing?” You saw his eyes flick over you and then behind to eye the massive canvas you had laid out, along with the little circles of paint looking fresh and shiny on it. You gave him a grin.

“I was hoping we could collaborate for your next piece.” You tugged at his shirt until you both stood closer to the canvas, taking special joy in how confused he looked. His eyes kept darting all over the place to try and make sense of what was going on, and you had to stifle a giggle.

You thought to elaborate on your suggestion by slowly unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. Rafayel raised his eyebrows but didn’t stop you, probably curious to see what you were cooking. You tugged his shirt off his toned shoulders, before going to work on his pants. His hand finally seized yours, tilting his head so your eyes would meet his.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” His tone was amused. You hummed almost in thought, pulling your hand away. You tugged on the belt of your robe until it slipped free, and the front fell open. You saw the tips of Rafayel’s ears turn red, and his expression blanked a bit.

“You have paint. You have a canvas. And you have me.” Your voice was a low whisper. You reached into the bucket next to you, palms stretched, until they were both covered in paint. Then you reached one hand up and dragged your fingertips over his bare abs.

The cool paint made them contract a bit, and you heard the way his breath hitched under the touch. Four long streaks of pink now stood out against his pale skin. Finally, you looked back up to meet his gaze, his face inches from yours.

Rafayel’s blush had extended from his ears down to his neck, but the corner of his lip twitched up into a slow grin. His hands were eager as he undid the button of his pants, and you felt a thrill run up your spine. You watched him undress quickly. He was slow, smooth, as he lifted one precise hand to tug on the shoulder of your loose robe until it was falling off your shoulders and pooling at your feet.

He looked around and his eyes caught the second can of paint. Purple. He dipped his hands into it, and you watched him walk back over to you.

“Where did you get this idea, baby?” His voice had lost its confusion, coated in honey now, sultry and low, nearly a whisper, and you shivered when his breath hit your bare neck. He took advantage of the fact that your hair was pulled up and away from your shoulders, tracing gentle lips over the slope of your shoulder. Instinctively, your hands smoothed over his torso, and you were reminded of the paint on them, still wet, now swiped onto the man before you.

Rafayel hummed at the feeling and proceeded to return the favor, his hands set on your hips. The paint was cool on your skin, and you almost jumped at the temperature if it weren’t for his warm hands taking the feeling away in the next second. Your boyfriend gave your naked bodies a gentle tug backwards until you were stepping on paper, slight crinkling noises hitting your ears.

Gentle lips now made contact with yours, and you sighed in relief. You had missed this, just the feeling of him kissing you. You had been thinking about it- and other things- all day, and you were so excited to start. Hands caressed over each other slowly but eagerly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how much paint you had managed to get on each other.

Your kisses became more hurried, more firm, and you could feel Rafayel’s body temperature rise a bit. His breath stuttered when you moaned into his mouth, tongues dancing together in a synchronized battle. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you arched deeply into him, nails digging into his biceps.

“Fuck, the paint is drying.” You managed to gasp out when your lips separated, his mouth finding the skin behind your ear immediately. He sucked hard on it, until you shivered and let out a long, shaky breath. Your knees were so weak, and you were glad for his strong arms wrapped around your waist, since it was the only thing currently holding you up.

He hummed against your skin, not letting up on the marks he was marring it with. You had discovered pretty early on that Rafayel was a biter, and marks on your skin was another way he created art. It just so happened that you enjoyed the feeling more than you could ever think to describe.

“Good thing you laid more out for us then.” He responded, referring to the globs just below your feet, before tugging you down until you were sprawled on the canvas below you. It was cool under your skin, and you felt something wet just under your shoulder. Oh. Your eyes met Rafayel’s before they finally traveled down his body for the first time since you two had started. You gulped in a deep breath.

His pale skin was covered in purple and pink streaks, like smooth color streaked over brilliant porcelain. The ridges and bumps of his muscles stood out even more under the paint, and you could tell in a few places the exact route your hands had taken, pink running over his waist and down his V-line. The remnants of the journey your fingers took stood before you, proud on his skin. You felt a thrill run through you at the sight, something stirred in your core.

“This is turning you on.” Rafayel observed, a light smirk resting on his face. You felt your body burn at the teasing lilt of his voice.

“As if this isn’t something you’ve dreamed of doing.” You retaliated, opening your legs so he could fit himself between them, resting his elbows on either side of you so your faces were a hairbreadth away. He hummed and sighed, lowering his body until his erection grazed right over your center, making you gasp.

“Believe me, I’ve dreamed of this.” He sighed, reached for the paint to the left and just above your head. You watched him cover his palm with it before he reached down, hooking a hand under your knee and pulling it up until it folded against your torso. The paint was wet on your skin, and you were learning to love the feeling more and more. His cock prodded your entrance, now on full display for him. He gave you another mischievous smirk.

“Baby I’m about to ruin you so bad.”

The first slide of him inside you had you crying out and arching into him, his cock carving its way through your unprepped hole and bringing with it a burn so delicious it made your head spin. When he bottomed out, he moaned unabashedly into your ear, hot breath hitting the shell of it and sending shivers through your spine. Your core clenched and unclenched rapidly, trying to adjust to the glorious intrusion. Your brain screamed at him to move, to slide in and out, do anything at all. You needed to feel him rock into you. Your hips twitched and jerked, making your boyfriend moan before he finally started moving.

His thrusts started out languid, smooth, gliding in and out of you at a reasonable pace. You sighed, head leaned back and reveling in the feeling it brought, leg tensing under his grip. Little tendrils of pleasure zipped up from where you were connected, heavy cock stretching you open until your pussy was adequately wet, ready to take the pounding you knew was inevitably coming your way.

And oh, did you receive it.

Slowly, steadily, Rafayel picked up the pace until his hips were smacking hard into your pelvis, knocking every breath from your lungs. You cried out, one arm thrown over his shoulder while the other seeked desperate purchase under you, used to the feeling of silk sheets but now met with nothing but smooth, stretched out canvas and the wet sensation of sticky color. Rafayel used the grip he had on your knee to twist your leg out further, inviting him to hit that one spot that made you see stars. A broken wail left your mouth and your back arched impossibly high, hearing a low moan hit your ear when you clenched tight around the cock pounding into you.

“F-fuck, Rafi-” His head lifted, just enough to connect your lips in a desperate slurry of rushed kisses, sucking and biting on your lips as his pace didn’t so much as stutter. Your moans dissolved straight into his mouth, little pornographic ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’s slipping out with every thrust. You didn’t bother muffling them, knowing exactly what the noises did for Rafayel’s ego, and with how he was ravishing you currently, you were okay with giving him a little ego boost.

(You would deal with the consequences of that later.)

“Gonna cum-” You managed to choke out just as your orgasm rammed into you with no warning, effectively silencing any other words as you cried and shook through it, muscles seized tight and legs kicking in the air.

“God- fuck,” Rafayel’s first words. “There you go. Fuck, that’s it.”

He fucked you through the last vestiges of your high before his arms slipped under your arched waist and lifted you up, rolling over until you were perched on his hips, throbbing cock still nestled inside you. The change in position made him slide in deeper, and you let out a broken moan. Your orgasm was still lingering around the edges, encouraging you to prolong the feeling, to chase after it again. And so you did. You rolled your hips, placing your hands on Rafayel’s abs as leverage to push your body up and down. You finally took a good look at your boyfriend.

His chest was heaving with exertion, shining under the glow of the lights above you, catching on the swirling mixes of purple and pink. Under the paint, his skin glistened with sweat, tensing and straining under his movements. The paint had reached all the way up the side of his neck, and even into his hair, blending with the purple tresses. The purple complimented his eyes, half lidded and heavy with lust, his lip was tucked under his teeth.

He was a vision.

“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice was fractured and strained, and in your staring you had forgotten that you were also the object of his gaze. You couldn’t imagine how you looked right now, slathered with paint and hot under the stimulation you were receiving, strands of hair leaving your bun and trailing down over your face and neck. You rolled your hips and tightened hard around his cock, watching the way his jaw slackened and eyes rolled shut. Another zip of pleasure ran through you, and you couldn’t help but keen, pushing yourself to go faster, to make him feel even better.

“I’m- I’m so close.” You could feel your vision swim, tears gathering in your lash line as his cock dug deep into your core, prodding into your spongy walls in all the right ways. Rafayel grabbed both your wrists off his chest, pulling them behind your back and then tugging you down until your body was pinned tight against his. You let him do as he pleased, planting his feet on the canvas before he started thrusting hard and fast up into your sopping cunt.

You screamed and arched, body tensing at the pace he set, chin resting on his shoulder and head thrown back as you let him carry you face first into another orgasm, gushing around him until the sounds of his thrusts grew impossibly wetter, sloppier than the paint around you and covering you, blabbering incoherent phrases and curses as tears poured from your eyes. With every thrust, the ecstasy prolonged itself, like an endless high that came with intense drugs, except all you needed was him, and he would get you there if it was the last thing he did.

Your perspective was shifting, Rafayel’s cock leaving you until you felt cold and empty. He maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, or rather, arms and knees since you felt that you couldn’t even hold yourself up at this point. A firm hand pushed on your back until it arched to his liking, spreading you until he could slide his massive length back into you with little to no resistance. You whimpered pathetically, eyes rolling unhindered in your head, cheek smushed into the paper beneath you. Briefly, you felt like you could almost taste the paint, but the thought left your brain faster than cigarette smoke dissipating on a windy day when Rafayel started moving again.

“Stop me if you can’t take it.”

You could never, would never stop him, not when your pussy keened at the feeling of his cock filling you up to fulfillment once more. Especially not when he planted a foot on your side that gave him leverage to thrust harder and stronger into you. Your body buzzed and reveled under the feeling of being used like this, basking in the sounds coming from Rafayel getting heavier and choppier as he finally chased his own orgasm instead of yours. You wanted nothing more than for him to warm you up, fill you with his seed until you couldn’t take any more of it. Your depraved mind was wiped blank of everything else except that crushing need.

“Cum in me.” You managed to whine, clenching hard around him. Rafayel moaned and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck. I’m gonna- I’m cumming baby, take it, take it, take it, take it-” Your body jostled at the strength of his thrusts, once, twice, and then he was slamming his cock deep into you and holding it there, hot spurts of cum hitting your walls. Painting your insides white like your bodies had painted your outsides purple and pink.

Your entire body collapsed on itself when Rafayel pulled out, dropping onto the paper heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Your vision was swimming and so was your head, unable to do anything but focus on the faint buzz in your muscles. You could hear shuffling somewhere behind you before you were being lifted into strong arms. You sighed and curled into them, seeking the warmth of your boyfriend after the beating your body just took. And he was happy to provide it- in the tub he ran for you while both of you settled into warm water.

You dozed in and out of sleep as Rafayel cleaned you up, giggling and humming along with whatever little anecdotes he was telling you. He knew you would barely remember most of it later, considering how dopey and spacey you got after sex. You pouted and leaned up to him every few minutes, stealing tiny kisses from his lips. And afterwards, you let him pat you dry and put you to bed in the usual “princess treatment” he gave you after one of your sessions. The only time he backed off from teasing you relentlessly and instead doted on you properly.

You couldn’t tell how long you slept, but you woke up feeling well rested. The bed next to you was empty but still slightly warm, and you could hear quiet shuffling outside in the studio.

Your muscles screamed when you forced them to move, your hips and thighs feeling like particular sore spots. You ignored the feeling in favor of pulling a shirt off the floor to throw over your body, realizing it was your boyfriend’s when it fell all the way to your thighs. You trudged out of the room while rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You saw him standing with his back to you, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The muscles of his bare back shifted as he moved, now clear of all the paint you two had slathered on it. Oh right, the paint.

Your eyes shifted behind him to the canvas, which Rafayel had propped up against the wall now, and was observing silently. You walked closer to admire the streaks of pink and purple on it, watching it carefully. Somehow, the choppy strokes showed your desperation, your passion, and you felt your face heat up at the thought.

“Looks pretty.” Your voice was slightly rough. Rafayel turned around at the sound and gave you a soft smile, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you from behind as you both stared. You settled into his warmth as you swayed gently back and forth.

“Why’re you thinking so hard about it?” You asked.

You turned your head to watch as he huffed and pouted a bit. He looked so cute, you bit back the urge to squish his cheeks.

“Pretty sure there’s some cum in there somewhere.”

Aaaaaand the urge was gone.

You smacked his chest hard, making him jerk back and laugh, but not releasing his hold on you.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Not more than you.”

He kissed you before you could land another smack, hand cupping your jaw to tilt your head back. You fought to keep a grin down, but failed when you felt his lips stretch with a smile of his own, erupting into giggles.

[ins4-tiable]

Leona, who always spoils you. 

Who covers you in lavish gold with a roll of his eyes mumbling 

"I had a little extra pocket change."

Leona keeps you trapped in bed and makes Ruggie get anything and everything you'll ever need. 

Leona, who never lets you want for anything. Anytime your eyes linger, it's appearing in your hands. 

Leona, who goes to class just to watch your cute quirks when you're focused. 

Leona, Who drags you away the moment class is over,

Leona loves to spoil you, So he lets you wrap your cute legs around his head.

Leona, Who'll let your grip and grope at his hair when he sucks, just that hard. 

Who traps you down in your spot as he squeezes your legs around his head and devours you. 

Leona, After he's done, who bites you where everyone can see. 

"heh. What? Don't I get something in return?"

Leona brain rot is slowly devouring my brain.. :,)

[augusgus]

Tags: sadomasochist childe bc I will die on this hill. (On my knees for this man btw! actually, he should step on me like rn), a bit of manhandling, a bit of hair tugging, a bit of spit play, childe gets off on being slapped <3

》 part 2

Childe's the type to love it when you fight back. It makes him a little wild, a little hungry. He can't help but give you a mean smirk when he traps your chin between his fingers and raises it to make you look at him, leaning in, ever so slowly. You expect him to kiss you, you really do, but instead you feel his other hand run up your neck and grab a handful of hair, forcefully tilting your head back, so that his lips end up brushing over the skin right below your mouth instead. You glare at him but the smirk on his face only deepens as his grip against your scalp tightens painfully. He loves making you feel the control he has over you, making you feel his strength - a threat and a promise of how hard he could take you. How hard he would take you.

"Aww baby," he fake-pouts, the cruel glimmer of amusement in his eyes hardly hidden. "Why're you pullin' away? I thought you liked my kisses. Are always beggin' for them usually."

His grip on your chin hasn't loosened but he takes the opportunity when you open your mouth to respond to push his thumb between your lips and silence you. Straightening up a little, Childe peers at your face for a moment, then he sighs dramatically. "Dear me, my baby's not even speaking to me anymore... what to do, what to do. Maybe a little reminder's needed, huh. Can't have my baby becomin' rude now, can I."

He bites down the nape of your neck before you can react, soothing the pain with his tongue until a thin thread of saliva runs down your collarbone. You can feel the satisfied tug of his lips against your skin, hear the quiet hum of "told you~"

It's when your own hand grabs a fistful of his hair and tugs, hard, that he comes face to face with you again - the noticeable flush covering the height of his cheekbones making the blue of his eyes stand out. An intrigued tilt of his head and he slowly lets go of his hold on you, though with his thumb he rubs the spit from your mouth all over your lips then smears it across your cheek. "Finally lookin' pretty for me," he murmurs, his smile condescending.

The slap resounds loudly in the room, red blooming on the side of his face where your hand has met with his skin. A moment passes in which he doesn't say anything, heated gaze not breaking away from your own even for a second, and you see the exact moment new heat flares up in his eyes. He licks his lips.

"Now do that again, darling."

[xoxoxoxenia]

tell me childe wouldn’t be the type to lay himself down after you told him what a stressful, tiring day you had. it’s like he wants it more than you. just listening to your stressed voice talking about all the work you had to complete and the more you had to do that night—he couldn’t help but ask that you forget about allll those things and make yourself feel good.

“im-im sorry ajax, i’ve been rambling haven’t i? i should probably get on this work anyway since it’s not going to do itself—“

he pulled at your arm gently as to get your attention before smiling at your dazed reaction to his movement.

“don’t even think about apologizing for anything, i know how hard you work”, he brushed some hair out of your face and caressed your chin with his thumb and index finger. “here, i have a good idea that i’m sure will make you forget all about today okay baby?”

the tone of his voice sounded so inviting you couldn’t resist giving in—like your body wouldn’t let you say no. he pecked your lips softly as you gave in like he knew you would. your lips eager and hungry for his as he allows you to lay yourself atop him while he stroked your hair.

“looks like you already are feeling much better huh?, he chuckled out at seeing your half lidded stare into his eyes. “always such a fucking tease ajax”

“easy now, i’m just trying to treat you, no point in talking back”

“hmph”

he laughed again at your attitude before taking the situation serious once more. he drove back into your lips only this time, he trailed deep kisses over your cheek and down yoy jaw to your neck.

“you haven’t even told me what this idea is.”

he smiled against your skin briefly before bringing his lips back up, letting them ever so slightly caress your skin.

“sit on my face”

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Losing Game

♡ featuring: ajax x f!reader

♡ summary: simmering feelings boil over as you're confronted by the man you hate the most; tartaglia, your boss. wc: 3.1k+

♡ cw/tw: afab, degradation, humiliation, creampie, squirting, light choking, sadism, throat-fucking, cum play, fingering, overstimulation, brat taming, mind break, pet names (doll, baby)

notes: hiii, the positive response from the last one motivated me to get this done just in time for Fontaine. kinda long this time so sorry abt that. ajax my beloved <3 art by sonomi_rap5 on twitter comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Working for the fatui wasn’t easy in the slightest, especially when you aren’t on harbinger status. You were sent on long, grueling tasks only to be met with loose interpretations of gratitude and sometimes silence from the higher-ups, in which most wouldn’t even glance in your direction. Pleasant beginnings became a sour afterthought, and your perception of the fatui changed drastically. Your grievances, however, weren’t helped by your quick-witted snappy attitude and competitiveness; Presumably why you ended up under the division of Tartaglia. You assumed a binding contract from the capricious redhead wouldn’t mean much, but that was quickly proven false.  

You'd rather climb every mountain in Snezhnaya than spend a minute talking to that airhead. He was instructed to keep a watchful eye on you during missions despite the competence you demonstrated. It was insulting. Anything he did you could do better. It’d been proven multiple times from the petty challenges you created. How much water you could drink, how long you can stay up. You won every time. How could you not hate him? His feigned ignorance and careless flirtations were enough to drive you mad. “Please, call me Ajax” he’d say, winking. The simpering smile he gave you after every comeback shot daggers in your pride. What made you particularly furious was the incessant drum of your heart whenever he was near you. The warm autumn morning that was his hair. The cool still waves his eyes sent to your core. You couldn’t fall for him, or else he’d have one up on you. You had to be stronger than that. You quelled your stress in a tattered journal gifted years ago. 

“Hey, comrade!” His bubbly tone makes knots in your stomach, and you choose to stay silent. You’re hoping this mission will go without a hitch, as long as he doesn’t get in your way. Ajax lets out a teasing whistle. 

“Yeesh, tough crowd.” As you’re collecting the items needed for the deal, he rocks back and forth on his heels directly in front of you, absent-mindedly watching. 

You whip your head to face him, “You can’t see I’m doing something right now?” 

“Oh, I see what you’re doing. But this isn’t entertaining.” 

“Unlike you, your majesty, I have no choice but to be perfect. I apologize if that’s not exciting enough for you.” You retort with sarcastic curtsy.  

“Haha! You’re always a pleasure to be around, (Y/N). My faithful, kind-hearted companion.” he said with a taunting wink. You're beyond flustered, haphazardly stuffing the remains in your bag and lugging it over your shoulder. 

“Let's go.” You say lazily. He follows closely, arms crossed behind his head. “Calling me like a dog, how romantic.” 

“If you don’t want to be called like a dog stop acting like one.” 

“You could at least give me a treat if I'm gonna be your dog.” He looks at you, making his best impression of puppy-eyes. You bite back a few choice words, and glare at him instead. He isn’t fazed by this and flashes a beguiling smile that makes your ears warm. Glancing at the weight you’re shouldering, he comments, “You sure you don’t need any help with that?” 

“No. The last person I need help from is you.” 

You and Ajax regroup in an alleyway deep in Fontaine’s bustling city. You are assigned to retrieve a rare gem for one of Pantalone’s elaborate schemes, and you quickly prepare yourself for this interaction. Ajax studies you, leaning against one of the walls. 

“Can’t you be a little nicer to your superior? If it wasn’t for me, you’d be in a lot of trouble half the time. You’re welcome.” You scoff. “I don’t know why you’re here in the first place, I have no problem doing this on my own.” 

“I’m sure. Don’t mind me, Ms. Independent.” A sly smirk crawled up his face. “Fucking asshole” you mumble under your breath. “I didn’t catch that. Can you repeat it?” 

“I said you’re a fucking asshole.” After a few moments of silence, Ajax grips his chest in feigned agony. “Ouch. I’m gutted!” 

Just as you're about to leave, he snatches your wrist, now only mere inches away from your face. His hand gently brushes away the strays of hair on your forehead. “There you go, doll. Gotta be perfect for your debut.” A whirlwind of emotions strangles your ability to think clearly, you pull your wrist away and start speed walking, attempting to gather yourself before you get to the jewelry store. 

You enter the empty store and are immediately confronted by the jeweler. 

“Good afternoon, ma’am. Do you have an appointment?” You proclaim your business and appointment under a fake identity, posturing yourself as wealthy. “May I see identification please.” Of course, you say. As you’re looking through your purse you notice something: there’s no identification here. Surely you weren’t that negligent over something so simple. You rummaged through the other compartments, trying to stay calm in front of an increasingly concerned jeweler. But it’s not there. How is this possible. Your nerves are heightened and the anxiety of failing the mission starts to creep in. “I made an appointment with Lottie; she’ll be able to provide reference. I believe I left my passport at home.” The jeweler seems slightly disappointed. “Unfortunately, ma’am, I am not allowed to present any gems without identification.” Your heart beats faster. “Well, sir, I’m very busy and I’m afraid this is my only chance to close on this item. You wouldn’t want to push away a well-paying customer.” 

“I have no choice in the matter. If you have no proof of identification, I must ask you to leave.” Should I take it by force? You thought, thinking about the next possible option. As you’re about to handle the rest physically, the door swings open. Ajax comes up to you, placing his arm around your waist.  

“My love, were you able to get the gem we were discussing?” You’re annoyed, but you improvise and look at him as if he’s the love of your life. “Not yet, dear.” Suddenly, he places a plush kiss on your lips. You’re stunned and speechless, filled with anger and wanting. 

The jeweler interjects. “And are you the husband? Would you happen to have any identification.” 

“Yes, sir.” Ajax pulls out a passport and fake birth certificate unbeknownst to you and begins to close the deal. The rest of the meeting you sit speechless. 

“Thank you for your patronage.” are the last words you hear as you leave the store, Ajax guiding you with his hand. You’re silent the whole way back to your room. 

You turn your bag upside down and begin looking for the mismatched documents. All while Ajax stares at you expectingly. You ignore his presence.  

“So... how about a ‘you’re welcome?’” 

“For what.” 

He lets out a mocking laugh. “For what? I don’t know, maybe saving your ass back there? You froze, and you were unprepared, Ms. Independent.”  

“I wouldn’t have forgotten it if it wasn’t for the obnoxious bullshit you did this morning.” 

“That’s dishonest, I wasn’t even talking!” he pretends to be hurt. “Admit that you need me.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“No.” His light-hearted inflection vexes you and makes it hard for you to focus as you read through the mountains of pages in your folder. 

While your head is down, Ajax comes across the tattered notebook just peeking out from under the bed. Storing the months—no years—of feelings you had regarding the fatui. Regarding him. Some time passes and you finally raise your head, met with the horrifying reveal of him skimming through the journal, mischief coating the deep void in his eyes. You spring up and reach for the book but he’s faster, grabbing your arms and pinning them above your head. 

“This is really good stuff... really good.” You shout profanities over and over, anything to get his attention away from the book. But he continues to read as if you’re not there. When he’s done reading, he lets you go, and you instantly try to swing at him. Before you can land a hit, he grabs you by the throat and stares into your soul, almost as if he’s trying to swallow your being. 

“You’ve been acting like a little fucking brat all over a crush? Not very big girl of you.” 

“I know you think you’re beyond charming, but I promise you don’t have that effect on me.” 

“Really? Let’s play a game then.” He knew you’d accept just to beat him at anything. 

“If you don’t cum by the end of this journal, I’ll apologize for everything. I’ll do whatever you want. But if I win-” he steps closer to you, “You have to do everything I say.” 

You almost burst out laughing. Such an easy challenge, how hard could it be? 

You're panting, trying your hardest to focus on the words that seemed to melt off the page. Your back lays comfortably against his chest, with his legs keeping yours spread. 

“Next page, baby.” 

“Don’t call me that.” Your words are lenient and breathy. Your underwear is still on, but Ajax’s fingers are covered in your slick, playing with the erect nub just enough to make you fuzzy. “You look like you’re tapping out.” 

“This? This is nothing” You respond meekly, continuing the reading.  

“I can’t help but have fe-elings for himph.”  

“There’s some nice things about me in here, why aren’t you always like this?” He says, circling and dipping into your gushy folds, smearing the glossy mess all over your vulva. You try so hard to read the letters, squirming from his touch. The sensation pulsing from your clit to your brain made you incoherent; the more you move, the more he moves. The contents of the journal are humiliating, detailing your romantic and sexual attraction towards Ajax, and your attempts to stifle these feelings. He was getting a kick out of seeing your flustered face stammer over his appearance. He plays with the precum glazing his fingers, widening them to watch the trail it left. Only two more pages left. 

“I-I-” You couldn’t get through the first sentence on the last page. Your thighs are trembling, and your pussy began to twitch. “Uh, s-shit. Ajax, wai-.” He trails his fingers over your clit spelling his name, then pushes two inside, fighting back an amused grin. “You’re almost done” Teasing in your ear. You bite back the moans threatening to escape; at the very least you couldn’t give him that satisfaction. He watches you fall apart, shaking more aggressively before your body gives in and you cum on his fingers.  

“Uh oh, that’s unfortunate.” You try your best to catch your breath, but he rides out your orgasm, making you subconsciously grind yourself into his palm. Then you’re struck with the reality of losing. He licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling back from the taste. “So fucking good, does being a bitch make you taste better?” You were too embarrassed from the loss to retort. “You won.” 

“I did.” He lifts you off the bed and onto the floor, your legs still recovering. He hikes your shirt up, trailing kisses up your stomach until he gets to your nipples. He flicks and sucks one while kneading the other one, occasionally biting the slightly bruising flesh. “Not gonna moan for me, huh baby?” 

“Not in the slightest.” You rasped. He smiles and blows cool air on your tits, sending a rippling feeling down your back. “That’s okay, you’ll give in.” 

Ajax unbuttons his pants, and they drop in front of you. Unsheathing his thick throbbing length, drooling with desire. His balls are full and heavy, and as you look up at him his eyes are clouded with lust. The pretty freckles that dotted his arms and chest are much more visible now, and so are his battle scars. He breathed in deep, "take care of this for me, yeah?” You wanted to say no and say fuck this; but there was another side that wanted him desperately, that needed this.  

You force your jaw open to accommodate his size and push yourself halfway on his girth, feeling his cockhead hit the back of your throat. Once you feel like you got it in, you slobber all over his cock, dampening his balls and begin to bob your head. You stroke with one hand and massage his sack with the other, leading to a breathy whimper from him. “Ah fuck, feels good. Suck it slow, slut.” You begin to move faster while cupping his balls, obscene noises leaving your sopping mouth. You have tears running down your sweating face trying to keep up with the vigorous movement of your tongue. You feel him throb a few times, his moans and grunting getting progressively louder.  

“Need more” is all he says, putting one of his legs on the bed and grabbing both sides of your head. Before you can register what’s happening. Ajax pushes your head onto his cock until your nose reaches his pubes. He lets out a breathy sigh and starts throat fucking you with an animalistic grip. The gagging and spit noises echo off the walls, along with his continuous whimpering. You wanted to hate him, but your blood was buzzing, and your panties were drenched. “Shut up and take it” followed by broken fuck’s and yes’s. He threw his head back, hair slicked and torso gleaming with sweat, “look at me.” You reluctantly look up, addicted to his passionate expression. “I want you looking at me when I cum.” You grip his thighs, and he twitches a few times before spurting white, thick cum down your throat. He pulls out slightly to drag his semen over your lips and then taps it on your face, holding you in place.  

“What are you doing? Clean me up.” he husked. You clean him up without complaint and lick your lips, forced to maintain eye contact with him the entire way.  

In one swoop, Ajax picks you up and throws you on the bed, eager to get your underwear off. “You proved your point, stop being an ass" you slurred out. The room was intoxicating, all you could smell and feel was him. He takes your panties off, spreading your pussy to watch the slippery puddle dribble down your thighs. He shoves your panties in your mouth, “Fucking liar, I know you like it. Can’t taste how wet you are?” He aligns himself with your aching hole, keeping your arch steady with you bent over. Shoving his cock in, moaning from the feeling of your body perfectly molding for him. Ajax starts moving at a rapid pace quickly, his big slender hands tightly gripping your ass. The sound of wet sticky skin slapping together and the squelching from your core made you shudder. It was all too much; you have been teetering on an orgasm since you went down on him, and the way his balls thump your clit make you quiver.  

“Whiny brat. Just needed to be fucked good to shut up, yeah?” he groaned through his words. Tears were coming down your eyes now, you can’t tell if he’s edging you by accident or on purpose. But right now, you’d do anything. He turns your head to face him, gazing at your tear-stricken face. “Aww, you cryin’ for me?” He stops to kiss and lick your tears, delighted by your tenderness. Taking the panties out your mouth, he brings your body flush with his and continues to pump inside with you looking at him.  

“So sweet all of a sudden, where’d that attitude go?” The morals you had for moaning went missing and mewls and soft whimpers began to leave you. “Let it out, baby.” You’re suddenly babbling please’s begging for him to let you have it. “Pathetic, can’t even get off on your own. You need me that bad?” You nod repeatedly, dangerously close to your release. He had a dark look in his eyes and a sinful smirk. “Yeah? Okay, you’ve been so good.” He reaches down and starts to rub your clit ceaselessly, kissing your cheek. Your whimpers become loud shaky moans and he finally lets you have it, shockwaves going through your body as you’re dissolved into pleasure. You pulsate through the explosion, jello-brain and boneless as your cum leaks down his thighs. Just as he pulls out and flips you over. You’re dizzy and drunk off him, legs shaking indefinitely from the intensity. Then he puts it back in. “You can take one more, yeah baby?” Your overstimulated and violent shaking wasn’t enough for him to stop. He wanted you ruined. He keeps going, grabbing your face to kiss you deeply, tongues intertwining with each other. He feeds you deep strokes, tip prodding your spot every time and watching as your tits bounce. You throw your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. You have no thoughts, only his name rings in your head. You can feel the coil inside you winding up, pleasure beyond the searing pain of your swollen pussy. He looks down at you and smiles.  

“Look at me." You can’t hear anything at this point, not even the sound of your own voice. So, it’s a pleasant surprise when your voice carries his name, “Ajax, Ajax”, chanting as if he’s your god. “Fuck. Gonna cum. Let it out. baby” he says grinning. You’re clamping him so tight and throbbing until you ultimately shatter with him, releasing a stream of squirt onto him and the sheets. He bucks into you, letting out thick spurts, panting heavily as he watches you in disarray. You instinctively hold on to his arms, trembling uncontrollably as you try to search for breath and ride it out. You’re completely hysterical and sobbing from the emotion it ripped into you. You were in shambles and Ajax couldn’t help but smile out of happiness for what he caused. “I’m so sorry.” you say repeatedly, eyes shut and lined with tears. He got closer to wrap you in his arms, and you cling to him for stability. “It’s okay, I’m here for you.” 

You didn’t want to talk about it when you woke up. You were hoping he’d be gone, and therefore wouldn’t have to deal with the humiliation. But there he was, watching you sleep just as the sun rose. His ginger hair danced with golden flecks of light, and he looked at you like you were the only person on Teyvat. 

“Creep.” 

  “Good morning to you too, baby~.” 

[traumxrei-archive]

【 baby it's cold outside 】

summary: winter break at nrc was not as relaxing as yuu was expecting to be. stuck between one tyrant of a lion and an excitable angel of one, how did a simple favor from crowley turn them into both a servant and a babysitter?

author's note: hello. i brainrot about leona a lot, i miss cheka, and this has been on my mind for a while, so...i'm writing it. yes. the updates will be sporadic for the most part, it'll be whenever i have time or inspo since this is series i wanna write for fun. i hope you enjoy !

characters: gn! yuu/leona kingscholar, best wingman cheka !

tags: winter at nrc (let's pretend scarabia arc doesn't exist for the sake of the fic), leona you bastard (affectionate), cheka best boy!, leona/yuu are both pining idiots but they don't needa know that shhh, the real mvp is cheka after all, let me shove all my favorite tropes into one fic and roll with it-

[ or read it on ao3 instead ! ]

chapters; (UNFINISHED)

↳ prologue - a servant of one...?

↳ chapter 1 - the cub, some warmth, and a lion's advice

↳ chapter 2 - snow day (mis)adventures !

↳ chapter 3 - words sung by the fire

↳ chapter 4 - one pampered lion wasn't enough

↳ chapter 5 - of promises (and memories to be made)

↳ chapter 6 - something new to lose

↳ chapter 7 - first meetings, a proposal, and the end of winter

↳ epilogue - winter's aftermath

updated: jul 11 (chapter 7)

additional materials : taglist

thank you for reading my leona/yuu brainrot ! want to see more ? check out my ao3 or my masterlist !

[moved-to-leichor]

kisses, kisses || leona kingscholar, ruggie bucchi, jamil viper, kalim al asim

their most favorite places to kiss you.

a/n: i'm on my period so have this- yes it includes just my husbands uhhh i miiiiiiight try it with the others? reposted from @/soru-ya!

p.s. trying a new presentation style hehehe this is a long post btw btw

stuff to note: reference to sex and/or intense makeouts in all four, uhh minor body horror (?) in ruggie's bit? he takes 'eat you up' a bit literally in his head, all the husbands are kinda fucked up in the head but if they weren't would they really be husbands, jamil is a fucking tease and we all know it, kalim is just sunshine, but sunshine kinda got really horny

❝knuckles❞ - leona considers this the most typical gentlemanly thing he could ever do to you- kiss you on your knuckles like a fairytale prince. it's his favorite way to greet you on one of his favorite parts of you, hands that work hard yet hold him and his scarred face and scorned heart ever so gently.

❝moles❞ - loves all your moles, there's a reason they're also called beauty marks, you know, and leona couldn't agree more. they're like little easter eggs waiting to be found all over your body, and trust him, he'll find every single one, big or small.

❝stretch marks❞ - stretch marks are a part of life, but are also a major insecurity for many people. he's seen all of them when you let him in and show him every inch of your skin, and leona can't find anything ugly about them. he knows that you do, sometimes, so he makes sure to nip at them and cover you in affection, letting you know that they're no big deal to him- you're wonderful.

❝neck❞ - the neck is a sacred spot for beastmen, since that's where they're most vulnerable, and he showers yours in affection, kissing and licking and sucking, marking every inch of skin he's able to. he's more than willing to let you return the affection, too.

❝stomach❞ - say whatever you want about your stomach, he loves it either way. fat and/or flabby? free pillow that is extremely soft. he doesn't really care for the weird sounds, his brother's waxed poetry about the sounds his sister-in-law's stomach makes, he's been thirdwheeling that shit for a while. no fat? still completely fine. you got abs? cool, workout with him sometime. will not let you hate yourself at all (that's kinda his job, you know. he's the depressing one in the relationship, don't leave him jobless of all things).

❝palms❞ - your palm is how you carry everything, including ruggie's heart, so he likes to kiss you there and inch lower onto your wrist, feeling your pulse. he's thankful you chose him, and even though he can't give you castles made out of stone and dresses made of the finest silk, he hopes whatever he can give you is enough.

❝cheek❞ - ruggie is weirdly chaste on the best of days, and cheek kisses are his to-go, since he's always running behind and around leona. a quick kiss on your cheek as he passes by you with a tray stacked with meat often makes your day. kiss his liddol cheeks too, okay? he deserves it.

❝collarbone❞ - now, this is a slightly graphic one, but nipping at your collarbone, no matter how much meat you've got on you, is like ripping through the bones found in the trash near his home for the marrow. he's never going to tell you this though, it's uh- a weird thought. but it brings him comfort by reminding him of his childhood, when his grandma could still pick him up, and if he trails a little lower, he can feel your heart beat.

❝lips❞ - a kiss on the lips denotes a happy ending, according to all the kids in the neighbourhood- it's what their moms told them, and their moms heard it from the rich kids they worked for. 'find a nice girl, or guy if you think ya swing that way, and tell 'em ya love 'em with a nice kiss on the lips', his grandma had joked, and while as a kid ruggie had gagged and spoke against the action in disgust, he wouldn't mind kissing you on the lips.

❝tummy❞ - ruggie thinks that your stomach is the most vulnerable part of your body, apart from your neck, of course. it's just fat, and has no protective shell, meaning that if he really wanted to, he could cut you up and watch you bleed, bleed, bleed. he loves that you let him sleep there, it means you trust him that much. he won't ever betray you, he promises. you gave him a chance, after all.

❝ears❞ - your ears flush when he comes close, and he can't help but tease you by nibbling on them just a little, kissing you on your lobe when you whine and try to push him away from your ears, laughing at you gently when you tell him that there are other much more wonderful places to kiss you. he's going nowhere, let him indulge for a bit, yeah?

❝moles❞ - moles, whether on a man or a woman, are said to exponentially increase their beauty. according to jamil's father, kalim's grandfather insisted that all of his son's wives and concubines have at least one mole visible to the people around them. "it's an old tradition," he says to jamil, and jamil isn't particularly inclined to argue, considering how fleetingly beautiful lady asim looks. but he'd never thought about his lover having moles, too busy to even consider a lover of his own. he will kiss and praise every single one on your skin, for there is no one who looks ugly with a mole.

❝chest❞ - whether you have boobs, moobs, or something on the tit spectrum, jamil loves it. he nips and kisses and sucks on the skin, leaving marks you just know are going to be visible if you don't wear your blazer the next day. "jamiiiiiil," you whine and warn simultaneously as your lover ignores you, opting to settle himself comfortably on your chest and bite.

❝lips❞ - a kiss on the lips, to him, has always been something to fear and despise. nothing against the kiss, really, but jamil just- hated the meaning. to children, it was a happy ending. the ancient princess of the sands kissed her 'street-rat' of a husband and ruled in prosperity, ushering an era of freedom, but for adults? it was the need to be intimate with their happy ending. jamil had already figured, from a young age, that servants didn't get happy endings. but here he was, with you, kissing his lips gently as your hands roamed all over his body. maybe this was his happy ending, with you by his side.

❝hands❞ - no matter how dry or oily or scarred, your hands will always look beautiful to him. after all, your hands hold and guide and shield his heart from all the sandstorms that roam unchecked in his mind. jamil kisses you there as a token of thanks and show of how much he loves you, for he can't give you anything like some others in the school can afford. he hopes that he is enough.

❝cheek❞ - kalim is perceived by his peers as an innocent and unassuming young man, and why wouldn't he be perceived as such when all he's ever seen doing to you is kissing you on the cheek? to be honest, most of the other couples are nrc are kiss-fighting all the time... but he doesn't care! he's biting and kissing your cheek 24/7 like the little hamster he is and you can't stop him!

❝shoulder❞ - kalim has his own battles with intimacy- his father and mother are not a very romantic couple, and while he wants to be the exact opposite of that, he has no clue where to start. romance novels don't talk too much about hesitancy on the part of the man- but he does notice that shoulder kisses are reassuring, so that's what he's gonna start with.

❝hips❞ - he loves it when you opt to spend the night with him, your legs tangled with his as the two of you giggle under the stars. all kalim can do is stare as your eyes slowly droop and you yawn, tossing an arm over his waist and snuggling in as whisper a quiet good night. and when he wakes up in the middle of the night, he kisses your hips and the skin of your stomach just above it and your hip dips (if visible), because that's all he can do in the moment to tell you how much he loves you.

❝nape❞ - whether you have long hair, short hair, or no hair at all, kalim's embarrassed to tell you how much of a turn-on (in general) your nape is to him. no, he can't quite explain it himself either, but he loves staring at your nape when you sit on the bench below him and kisses it when trein turns towards the board. (he's pretty sure trein's just ignoring him)

❝chest❞ - whether you have boobs, moobs, or something on the tit spectrum, kalim loves and appreciates every part of you. it's his favorite place to hide because when he does, jamil doesn't make eye contact with him, and no eye contact means no homework! only you! he will give you kisses in return from saving him from homework :33

[zeriin]

# #. GROCERY STORE !!

featuring : heartslaybul - octavinelle ! going grocery shopping is usually a mundane task, boring and usual. that is until the twst boys want to join you in your outing. you just hoped nothing would go wrong this time… for once…

and can I just say- OMG TYSM FOR LIKING MY WORK??? LIKE AKSHHDJAJUW???? I LITERALLY HAVE NO WORDSS

# #. RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Taking Riddle out grocery shopping is like taking a very well-behaved child out. He never strays away from you or the cart, and is oddly silent the entire time. However if you look closely you can see a small smile on his face.

He's never been to a grocery store before, due to his mom usually keeping him inside the house and getting them herself. So he can't help but be fascinated by the variety of things and contents of whatevers in the store. He definitely makes sure that no funny business goes on within the store though, he makes sure that everything he does is in order- it's kind of funny how stiff he is in a grocery store.

While out with Riddle, he will absolutely go to the mini bakery, inspecting the cakes, tarts, breads, and cookies. The aroma is enough to put a smile on his face. He probably picks up some ingredients for Trey too, and maybe for himself, if you'd like to help him in creating a tart that it?

10/10 he's so cute the entire trip and pays for you!! Consider it his gratitude for the strawberry tart you bought !

# #. TREY CLOVER

Trey probably needs to pick up some baking supplies while out with you, meaning that the two of you spend a lot of time in the baking aisle or in the mini bakery of the store. It gives him some inspiration when seeing all the different types of sweets and goodies around, perhaps he should bake some of them for you!!

Trey is always helpful, and it applies even more so at the grocery store. He helps store workers, random costumers, you. He tries the best he can, either by helping pick up grocery bags, or by carrying the slightly heavier stuff for you. Trey also walks around with the cart, going through aisle and aisle with you, never once complaining about being there for too long.

With him you don't really have to worry about anything either, he makes sure that you get everything on your checklist and that you don't buy unnecessary or unimportant items. It's kind of like going with a parental figure- or someone really calming.

10/10, man's bakes you a whole plethora of sweets- and going with him is one of the most calming trips ever.

# #. CATER DIAMOND

Cater makes Grocery shopping an experience. You know those pictures of people in carts? Or the ones where you're standing in an aisle doing something stupid? Yeah that's him, one hundred percent.

It's always so fun to go out with him though, no matter what kind if shenanigans you get into. He for sure buys a few spicy instant Ramen packs while out, actually he just buys a bunch of spicy stuff in general- not that you're complaining of course. Maybe he'll even buy some actual ingredients to try and recreate his favorite recipes with you!!

Cater tries to help out as best as he can too, by helping out with checkout or carrying certain things! He also has a nack at finding pretty- or the most appealing looking foods- due to his magicam, he knows how to get good angles and can find some of the best quality foods there is. The pictures he takes can make that one package of strawberries look like the most delectable thing ever.

8/10 he's a fun guy to go Grocery shopping with!! And you get to make Ramen with him once you get back home!

# #. ACE TRAPPOLA

As a contrast to Riddle- Ace is a big baby when going out Grocery shopping. He walks behind you, trying to annoy you in every possible way ever.

He purposely walks in front of the cart when you're about to move, has a grumpy face when being in the healthy section for too long, grabs a buttload of junk food- you don't mind but he'll share none of it with you. He does all of this with an annoying little smirk on his pretty boy face.

Although shopping with him has its downsides, he knows how to make it fun for you. He's the type to sometimes hijack and blast music into the store's speakers, dragging you along with him for a dance. He makes you sit in the carts basket, running around the store while pushing you. Does it make up for not sharing his snacks with you? Maybe. That cute smile on his face certainly does though !!

He's an annoying little shit but I love him for that. 6/10 just cause he's a stinky butt head <3 Oh and he does end up sharing his snacks in the end!

# #. DEUCE SPADE

Deuce is one of the best people to go shopping with. He trails behind you, only ever walking off when he needs to get something. He probably knows this grocery store like the back of his hand even though he's only been there like once.

Deuce knows the best deals to get as well, going grocery shopping with his mom definitely helped out a bunch. He knows what to do during a sale- running and squeezing through crowds of middle aged women to get that last carton of eggs. Think of miyamura from horimiya!!

He carries the bags back to the car, no matter how much or how heavy. Deuce also tries to split the bill with you, there's something so domestic about it, and he absolutely loves it. He always has a smile on his face whenever shopping, especially when it's with his favorite prefect!! Honestly Deuce's perfect date is probably going grocery shopping then riding off into the sunset on his blastcycle.

10/10 he's a very helpful and reliable man, its cute. He's cute. And with him you'll never forget your eggs.

# #. LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

I don't know what possessed Leona to want to go Grocery shopping with you and not just make you or Ruggie do it for him, but let's say he goes because he needs something.

He walks quietly next to you, looking out for what he needs while walking through the aisles. Unfortunately, after he gets whatever he needs he's a total asshole. He complains about being there for too long, and how he'd much rather be napping then in a store.

It's confusing because it was his car that you took here- he could easily just go sleep in it- or straight up leave if he wanted. Well I guess he was being nice enough to not just leave you in the dust. You wouldn't be surprised if he just randomly decided to lean on you whilst you walk, or he might knock stuff over and over for you to keep picking up. He's quite literally a cat.

4/10 he's another annoying shit- but its not so bad cause he's hot. Well at least he pays for you- right?

# #. RUGGIE BUCCHI

Ruggie is probably tagging along with you because he needs to get something for Leona. And he has to be one of the greatest shopping companions to have graced this world. He points out some of the best products that are also cheap, and knows how to get good deals and haggle with store owners.

Like Ace, he also makes the trip fun, well for him at least. Ruggie's idea of fun definitely contains snatching some wallets or free food while out. If you're at Costco he will take more samples than humanly possible. It's pretty funny- if you forget about the snatching wallets part.

Ruggie will also pay for you- using Leona's wallet!! He tells you over and over that Leona wouldn't even notice your purchase of groceries- no mater you end up getting. The hyena also knows how to get the good stuff for cheap, real cheap. It's honestly kind of a life saver to go shopping with him- he helps with everything.

8/10- he somehow can haggle a grocery store worker so you get everything for cheap- although you wished he wouldn't swipe wallets when with you--

# #. JACK HOWL

Jack is the Grocery man. He probably asked to join you just because he wanted to help out, no hidden motives or questions asked. He's so helpful it's honestly so sweet.

It's kind of funny to see a big beefy wolf man dragging around a grocery cart with a happy smile on his face. Honestly he just loves grocery shopping, its so him. He gets all the healthy stuff and protien shakes that'll help out with both of your bodies, he makes sure to leave room for some junk food in the cart though. Jack always helps out with the heavy stuff too, he carries the water cartons, soda, the eight cat trees you got just for Grim- It's like a mini workout for him!!

I can imagine him rushing when at self checkout, he's scanning those tomatoes like it's an Olympic sport. Oh- and he always gets some cactus seeds just in case !!

9/10 helpful wolf man for the win !!

# #. AZUL ASHENGROTTO

It's honestly so confusing why Azul would want to go Grocery shopping with you, did he want to start a farmers market or something?? You doubted he had anything to gain from it either. Like- who goes Grocery Shopping for a scheme??? Azul.

Other than thinking he's gonna do something behind your back while walking around the store, he's a pleasant companion! He basically just sticks to himself the whole time, pointing out things he finds interesting, or things he'd never seen before while in the sea. He's very fascinated by the variety of human items and stuff in just one store. Azul does try to be helpful sometimes, like picking out things that would benefit you both for the right price. Something tells you that if he ran his own grocery store everything in it would be way too overpriced--

He has to be scheming though, you can see him mumbling to himself while looking at the pricetags for certain items, and that gleam in his glasses isn't helping clear him of that suspicion one bit.

6/10 he's honestly not that bad- but you just know for a fact he's plotting something behind your back.

# #. JADE LEECH

Jade joins you on your endeavors to try and learn more about the surface. Of course, they have grocery stores down in the sea, but the things they carry are far more different from the things up here. He finds this a learning experience, like many other things.

Jade is they type to like a flea market the most, or an outdoor one at that. Being outside while shopping with the perfect is probably one of his favorite pastimes. He- like Azul- is pretty silent the entire time. He just enjoys being out in nature while exploring the vast marketplace!! If you're out at a flea market he might also try and haggle with the prices, well he wouldn't try- they'd just give it to him for cheaper because of his face.

He probably buys the two of you a bunch of mushroom including foods, and he probably buys some mushrooms just for himself. Perhaps they two of you can make some foods including them later, yes? That would certainly be a fun experience!

8/10 a very relaxing experience- a lot different from the others, but it's not like your complaining!

# #. FLOYD LEECH

Floyd either tries to squeeze into the baby seats of a shopping cart or stands on the side of it, towering over like the giant he is, letting you drag him around with a silly little smile on his face.

He puts whatever he wants into the cart, showing off things that you definitely don't need. Matching eel phone charms? He's making you buy it. A gummy candy in the shape of shrimp? Well duh he needs that!!

When not clinging onto the cart he's running around the store like a madman. It's quite scary if you think about it- a 6'1 eel man running around a grocery store, bumping into people without saying sorry. He makes it his mission to scare you. Popping up out of nowhere and shoving stuff into your face? Sounds fun!! Sneaking his head into the aisles you're in and watching you from afar like a creep? That's his favorite pastime!!

5/10 its fun to go out with Floyd- but also a hassle. Be forewarned before you agree to go out with him…

.

Honestly- why did you even say yes to shopping with them in the first place??

[valkyrayn]

made for me // posted on ao3

Pairing: Marius von Hagen x afab!reader

Words: 1,641

Tags: unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, loud sex, rough sex, just porn really

This starts off gentle. You can feel the wind softly brushing against your heated skin as your tongues dance together. Besides the sound of yours and his heavy breathing, you can hear the faint sound of mandolin being played just outside the building—reminding you that you’re not in Stellis.

You can taste the wine on his lips and you swear it’s laced with an aphrodisiac because you’re addicted to him. Your body has been yearning for him the entire night, for his body, for his hands to be everywhere on you and inside you. You press your palm against his broad chest and he lets out this soft, breathless sigh against your lips that makes you feel weak in the knees, before pulling himself away from the kiss.

He's so big compared to you—the way he’s towering over you like this as he envelops you with his whole body. His large hands are on your thigh and the other is flat against your back, holding you tightly against him as if you’re the most fragile thing in the world. You feel his heaving chest against yours, your breathing matching his—laboured and desperate. He shifts you in his arms, so he can nuzzle his face against the crook of your neck. A soft moan escapes your lips at the feeling of his hot breath on your skin, followed by the wet sensation of his tongue licking up the side of your neck. Your cunt clenches when he starts sucking on your skin to leave his marks on you—from your neck, down to your collarbone. This man, your man, is branding your skin on the most visible of areas. ‘I want the whole world to know that you belong to me.

You will yourself to pull away so you can look at him, to take in his appearance and god, under the mauve coloured sunset of Florence, he looks so ethereal, almost godlike. You’re still reeling at the fact that he’s all yours. This attractive, tall and dark haired man with beautiful violet eyes whose body is made to please you. He stares into your eyes with such intensity filled with both love and lust, before moving down to your parted lips and then your heaving chest. “You’re so beautiful, my love…” his fingers trace the outline of your dress, reaching to the side before pulling down the zipper.

“I’ll take my time with you tonight…”

His cock feels so good inside you, every ridge and vein pressing against your tight walls, sliding in and out of you at a slow and tantalising pace. True to his words, he’s taking his time with you; different from what you’re used to with him—fast, rough and risky. One thing that’s constant though are the orgasms he puts your body through. Each one so earth-shattering, that it leaves you clawing at his chest as you breathlessly moan ‘oh god Marius’ over and over again like a prayer. You came so much in the past hour, on his cock, mouth and fingers—leaving him so utterly drenched with your release that his expensive black shirt is now sticking to his body.

Every once in a while, he’ll stop—allowing your body to recover. And he’ll brush the hair out of your face before burying his face against your neck once again, as he whispers his vows to you, the same vow he made when he got down on one knee for you. You’re reeling at this, how he’s able to make you so emotional and aroused at the same time. And then you feel the familiar stretch again, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as he pushes himself back inside you.. “So fucking tight, baby. God, I love being inside you…”

The sound of the soft instrumental music outside is now completely drowned out by the sound of his hips meeting yours, the wet squelching of your dripping cunt and the loud noise of the headboard repeatedly banging against the wall as Marius fucks you harder into the mattress.

He knows when you’re about to cum. From the way you clench so tightly around him and as you slowly arch your back to receive more of him. He finds this so fucking sexy, how you’re pushing yourself towards him and pulling him deeper at the same time as you wrap your legs around him. “That's my good girl…my beautiful little slut. So greedy for me…aah…” Your walls tighten at that, that filthy nickname. Slut. The only man you’ll ever let call you that. The only man who’s allowed to do every obscene things in the book to you, to fuck you and make a mess out of you.

The orgasm is explosive, even stronger than the last. It’s so good, it’s so fucking good that you’re crying.

Your back is arching off the bed, eyes white and cunt gripping him like a vice. “Fuck, shit, fuck—!“ he curses, his body jerking against your hips as he unloads inside you. Thick hot spurts of cum painting your walls, filling you up so deliciously that it induces more orgasms before you even have the chance to recover.

“Marius ahn—feels so good…oh my god...”

You can’t focus on anything else besides the feeling of his throbbing cock inside you—thick and heavy, still violently pumping in and out your overstimulated pussy.

“Fuck baby. Turn around,” he commands, pulling out of you and lifting you up before you can even register his words. “Ass up in the air please…just like that. That’s my good girl.” His hand rests on your ass, as you try to find your balance in this new position. You plant your face onto the pillow and grip onto the sheets—dripping wet and ready for him to fuck you again. Marius pushes his tip in then pulls it out before rubbing it against your clit, smearing his cum that’s leaking out of you over your folds. He repeats this; teasing you until you’re all but whining and begging for him to shove his cock inside you again.

“Look at how well you stretch for me,” he pushes in deeper, a breathless gasp escape your lips when you feel his tip touching your womb. He’s so deep, so big, stretching you so full. He’s ruined you for other men, because you know that no one else will ever fill you up this good. “You take me in so well. You always do—fuck.” He rubs your clit with his fingers, adding more to the stimulation. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, the sensation so overwhelming, you want to scream.

“Don’t hold back, baby. Let it out for me. Let the people outside hear how good it feels when I’m fucking you.” Your grip on the sheets tighten, knuckles turning white—it’s mind numbing, all consuming. The way he drives his thick cock back inside your cunt, hitting the perfect spot at each thrust—you finally understand how being fucked dumb feels like.

“aa—ahn marius oh my god—fuck oh fuck! It feels so fucking good, you make me—aah—feel so good…” You’re a rambling mess, your brain turning into mush and the only thing keeping you conscious is him whispering sweet nothings in your ear. “Can’t wait to make you my wife…my beautiful, perfect wife. God—just look at you,”

He grabs onto your hips to flip you onto your back so he can look at your face while he pushes himself back inside you. He pulls back and pushes your thighs closer to your chest. He looks at where you are connected, relishing at the way your cunt swallows his cock—his thrusts now slow and teasing, dragging out the last sliver of your sanity. He loves the way your eyes cross as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge once again.

Marius gathers your legs in one arm then folds you in half, his huge body towering over you now as he presses his hips against yours. He angles himself to drive his cock even deeper inside you—your grip around the sheet tightening even more that you swear it’s tearing apart. The little whimpers that you make drives him crazy. He wants to savour you, to pleasure you until you can’t take it anymore.

He wipes the tear at the side of your eye with his thumb, looking at you tenderly before driving his cock back inside you, knocking the breath out of your lungs. A high pitched moan is dragged out of you, particularly louder than before that there is without a doubt could be heard by the people downstairs.

His fingers find their way to your cunt to rub your clit, the sudden contact makes your body jerk and thrash against him. “I know baby, I know. Cum for me again…on my cock, as much as you want.” Your toes curl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you let yourself go—

“Fuck yesss baby…just like that. Such a good girl…” He stills inside you, feeling your walls clench and unclench around him, your entire body trembling as you gush all over him, drenching his thighs and the sheets with your combined fluids.

Marius supports his weight with his arms on either side of you as he tries to catch his own breath. You feel his cock twitch inside you, making you clench around him. He hisses at the overstimulation then buries his face against your neck.

“How are we ever going to top this once we get to our real honeymoon?” You ask playfully as you run your fingers through his hair, drenched in his own sweat. He chuckles against your neck before lifting his head up to smile down at you.

“Are you underestimating us, jiejie?” He asks, feigning hurt. And then he winks at you. “I’ll just have to fuck you harder then.”

[solitairesins]

now that marius had confessed and the two of you are now together, you get to see an entirely new side of marius.

a marius that's more clingy, more needy, more forward — believe it or not. he's a lot more lighter, more youthful; more keen on giving you winks and smirks and teasing remarks like it's his job (the tone of his "onee-san" is lower now, more playful than ever). a lot of it is new and tentative; much like a kid testing what he can and can't do, marius explores the dynamics of your new relationship with excitement and joy.

what he's quick to find out, however, is that he really really likes kissing you.

marius' lips are hot and insistent against yours as he pushes against you, cradling your face with his hands and framing your body between the door and his. you let slip a little whimper when his teeth bite down on your lower lip and you think you hear him groan lowly in reply — but his hands that snake to the back of your neck and your waist are incredibly distracting.

distracting...

—is exactly what he's doing!

you pull away with a gasp. "marius!" you try to sound as stern as you can, breathless as you are. "I have to go—"

he whines. "one more kiss, onee-san, just one more—"

you push him back with a hand on his chest. he's already looking at you with his puppy eyes, his lower lip already in a pout. "that kiss was already your last kiss, mister von hagen. you've asked for multiple last kisses from the time I've said I had to go!"

it's a surprise that he can pout harder. "then why can't I have this one?"

"because it's already the last-est last kiss—"

"I won't be able to see you for half a day, onee-san! I won't survive with zero kisses, I'll die—"

you laugh. "no, you won't!"

he places a hand on his chest. "I will! you occupy every thought I have and you think I would survive with no affection from my girlfriend for half a day—"

"okay, okay!" there's a grin on your face as you step back into his arms. "last one for real this time! I'm going to be late for work. mr wing and i have cases to go through."

marius' eyes twinkle as he places his hands on your waist. "ah, ditching me for artem. I'm meeting with crusty old men for my day and you—"

you peck him on the lips to shut him up, and immediately he tries to follow you when you pull away. "shut up."

"make me?"

you laugh and untangle yourself from him and head for the door. "goodbye, mr von hagen. I'll see you for dinner later."

marius follows to grab your hand. he squeezes it and brings it to his lips, looking up at you with a soft smile. "see you later."

[tahdashi-deactivated20260406]

HOW THEY KISS YOU. . .

✦ ft: the tot boys x gn!reader

✦ a/n: the 2nd anniversary cards have taken over my life >:(

✦ ARTEM can be shy with kisses, only kissing your forehead or lips sparingly when in public, but when it's just the two of you in the comfort of your shared apartment, artem indulges a bit more. on nights when he's finishing some work up in the living room, his feet propped up on the coffee table, he'll play with your hand as you lean into him, taking in the scent of his freshly washed hair and eucalyptus body wash. and even in moments of deep focus, artem will bring your palm to his lips, leave a few kisses to the skin, and trail his lips up to your wrist and forearm. and although his actions are a bit mindless, you can't help but feel warmth rush to your cheeks — his casual affection catches you by surprise. and when artem's feeling a bit more spontaneous, he'll snake his hands around your waist, pulling you into his chest before placing several kisses to your jaw and behind your ear.

✦ MARIUS finds himself being drawn to you the second you're in his line of vision. whether you're preparing something in the kitchen, or working at your desk, you'll feel marius' fingers dance across your waist before feeling his breath linger on your skin. he starts with a whisper, usually a "missed you," even though he's been with you all day. he'll hover his lips over the shell of your ear, placing a quiet, featherlight kiss behind it before moving towards your neck — his haven. and sometimes, marius will do it casually, telling you about his day as he places kisses to the skin of your neck as punctuation. he can't get enough of your scent, your warmth, the way you adjust to give him more room to kiss your collarbones. his plum-colored hair tickles your skin, and he revels in the sound of your laughter.

✦ LUKE has a habit of kissing you as a distraction. the second he sees a wrinkle form between your brows, he's turning your face towards his ever so gently, flashing a soft smile with earnest eyes that look as if honey is dripping from them. and maybe, luke needed this kiss, too. you're both smiling into it, your hands always end up in his soft locks. his favorite kisses, though, are when you two are being lazy on the couch — a movie's playing in the background, but neither of you care enough to pay attention. somehow, you always end up on his lap, his fingers gripping your waist just enough to keep you in place. he jokes around a bit, telling you to pay attention to the movie, but he's looking straight at your lips. and when you make the first move, he's a goner. he kisses back lazily, his tongue meeting yours gently before pulling away to move to your jaw. when it comes to having his lips on your skin, luke pearce is insatiable.

✦ VYN always starts with an innocent kiss to the cheek, his lips linger for a quick second before he’s pulling away, smiling at you with sincerity and heart shaped pupils. but the innocence doesn’t last — he knows just how to make you melt for him. his kisses are intense, as if he’s pulling all the air out from your lungs, taking in all that you are. he pays attention to all your little movements — the quickening of your breath, the way your chest rises and falls, the way your fingers look for something to grasp onto. and he doesn’t stop until he hears those pretty sounds fall from your lips. you’re both gasping for air, looking at each other with something that looks like lust and love. he readjusts his clothes quickly, smoothing out the wrinkles from your roaming hands before he puts his glasses back on and swipes his thumb across your lower lip.

feedback & reblogs are appreciated !!

[buttress-deactivated20230821]

cws for fem!reader. i just really think gepard is weak to pussy is all…

-

Gepard tries his best to avoid you while he’s on duty.

He feels guilty about it —God, does he feel guilty— but he knows that the moment you see him, decked in his uniform that seems to have an uncanny hold over you, you’ll be batting those lashes and pawing at him as you try to pull him off to a secluded alleyway and get your fill of him, and what’s worse is he’d let you.

He’s never once been able to say no to your requests, especially when you looked so pretty in front of him, practically begging for him to do whatever it was you wanted. This fact has landed him in more than a few sticky situations; Bronya herself had nearly caught caught him on his knees with his head shoved underneath your dress, another time it had been Cocolia when she made a trip to the unisex bathrooms and heard quite a bit of commotion in the last stall, had she opened the door she would have been met with the sight of Gepard’s cock buried deep inside your sopping cunt and your breast in his mouth.

You were absolutely insatiable.

Hence why he was currently skulking down the dark streets Belobog, wincing each time his armor loudly clanked with his movements. He would be on duty well into the night, and had told you as such before leaving your shared home this morning, but he was more than certain that you were currently wandering around in search of him under the guise of ‘being worried that he hadn’t come home on time’. In all reality, you had laid in bed and remembered all that happened in it days prior and developed an ache between your legs that you were adamant only he could get rid of.

Don’t get him wrong, the notion that he was the only person able to satisfy you pleased him more than you could ever imagine. It made his cheeks flush a deep pink and sweat bead at the back of his neck whenever he thought about you lying in bed, whimpering as you repeatedly stuffed your fingers into your desperate cunt and rubbed at your clit as you chased your release, only to fail because you could only come when it was him who was curling his digits into you and rubbing at your walls, or thumbing at your twitching little clit.

But these were things that he couldn’t continue to do while he was on duty. He was the captain of the Silvermane Guards, a hero to the children of Belobog, a Landau noble, he couldn’t continue to be reduced to some lust-driven pervert in public just because you flashed him a sultry look.

It was absurd!

In the midst of his inner monologuing, Gepard failed to notice your figure quickly gaining on him until it was too late.

“Gepard!” He dramatically gasps, blue eyes widening at your sudden presence, and you stalk up to him, signature pout on your lips as you cross your arms underneath your breasts, the mounds nearly spilling from the low cut top that you wear. Heavens above… “Gepard, honey, you didn’t tell me that you were on guard tonight. I was so worried when you didn’t come home on time—I made dinner for the both of us and everything.”

It takes great effort to drag his eyes away from your cleavage, but he manages. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I-I thought I told you this morning that I wouldn’t be home till late.” He knows he told you, but that doesn’t really matter right now, what matters is that you’ve uncrossed your arms in favor of grabbing onto the fabric of his jacket and pressed yourself flush against his front.

He can hardly feel your body due to the armored plates that he wears, but he wants to feel it—he wants to feel your soft curves smushed against the hard planes of his body, your breasts pressed against him, your stomach flush against his, your hot, dripping pussy—enough, Gepard!

“Mm-nn, I would’ve remembered, Gepard. I would’ve!” You shake your head, and you look so beautiful that he nearly believes everything you’re saying. “Anyways,” you look up at him through thick lashes, and he tries to will all of the power he has in him to stand strong in the face of temptation. “I think I deserve a kiss for all the searching I did tonight—in heels, at that.”

Your tongue swipes along your bottom lip, plump and full, and he makes a pathetic sound low in his throat, eyebrows furrowing and hands flexing at his sides as he resists the urge to tug at his collar to alleviate some of the heat creeping up his neck. “Don’t you think I deserve a kiss, Gepard? Just a little one to keep me warm on the way back home?”

It’s never ‘just a little one’, no. It’s always a ‘let’s use that empty alley, Gepard’, ‘no one will see us, Gepard’, ‘just the tip, Gepard’, ‘i only want to see it, Gepard, i promise i won’t put it in my mouth’.

He should say no—he needs to say no—he will say no. You’ll survive, the heaters keeping the city warm will make sure of that. You can receive all the kisses you want when his uniform is hung in his closet and he’s climbing into bed with you, but not here, not now.

Oh.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as his mouth slants over yours, tongue rubbing against your own as his hands tightly hold onto your waist. You moan into the kiss, giving little tugs at his hair and nipping at his lips, and your knee raises up to push into his crotch, the corners of your mouth quirking up when you feel his hardness.

Ah…it seems as if you’ve bested him yet again.

-

[mrpenguinpants]

Low Battery Warning - Touch Starved HCs

— If he goes too long without you by his side, he starts to get irritable and too frustrating for anyone to deal with. For the sake of everyone, please remember to recharge your battery before leaving for extended periods of time.

— Tartaglia, Kaveh, Ayato, Alhaitham, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

I JUST WANT TO WRITE WHIPPED MEN OKAY? What do you mean I have to write a part 2 for two different fics??? I'm honestly surprised I managed to finish this. Also, ALHAITHAM NATION REJOICE, YOUR BOY IS HERE AND I CAN FINALLY MAKE A BANNER. I wasn't going to write him (I'm a kaveh stan) but now that he's here...

Tartaglia

While Tartaglia is the most favored to work with compared to the other Harbingers, that's only by a very slim margin. The closest you'll get to death is when the man gets bored and randomly picks someone to fight, but they usually make it out alive. Maybe a couple weeks in the medical bay and a few broken bones but they aren't dead for the most part. He's also the youngest and therefore the most easy-going even if he's a bit childish. He's a soldier first so he knows the pain of listening to someone verbally beat you down and not having the power to do anything back. But he's still a person at the end of the day and after so many people messing up and delaying his work, he's starting to get irritated. First, it was someone spilling tea onto important documents that he just finished signing, then the Fatui agents stationed near Jueyun Karst being defeated by some no-named treasure hoarders, and then finally being held hostage in his own office because the Liyue Qixing wouldn't leave him alone. God, he slumps over his desk, he just wants to go home and see you!

By the time he finally stumbles through the door, you're already passed out on the couch. He can't blame you, it's very late into the night and he would probably be more upset if you forced yourself to stay awake just to welcome him home. But he can still pout that he was taken away from you for so long, he didn't even get to see you all day. That's borderline torture. But he supposes he can forgive you since you look so cute bundled up in his red shirt. If he happens to take a picture or two that's for his knowledge and eyes only. So he easily scoops you up into his arms, taking a couple seconds to just stand there as he basks in the comfortable weight before he takes you to bed. Just for tonight. This will be the last time work takes him away from home for so long.

It lasts for two weeks. Usually, Childe could hold himself together, he's been away for far longer, but the fact that you're right there and he can't hold you is driving him insane. By the 14th day, Childe is ready to snap his pen in half and hurl it at the next person that comes through that cursed door. He doesn't though because it's usually Ekaterina, the only one that has the balls to talk to him right now, and she deserves far more than she's paid to deal with. But he's touch-deprived and tired. Even Zhongli with his infinite amount of patience advises him to sort himself out before inviting him out to lunch next time. He tried to deal with it on his own, this isn't the first time he's felt claustrophobic, but after the fifth Hilichurl camp he doesn't feel any better which only makes his mood sour further. He might even beat Scaramouche in how short-tempered he is right now. There's heavy air wherever he goes and whatever carefree persona he usually has on is thrown out the window.

It's Zhongli who clues you into how bad Childe's demeanor has gotten, the rascal looks horrible both physically and mentally. Despite the consultant and Childe being on friendly terms, you don't really know the man that well. But he doesn't seem like the type of person to lie so you thank him for the information and make your way to the Northland Bank. To be honest, you've been feeling the effects of not seeing Childe as often as you usually do. You know his work can get so hectic that it keeps him cooped up in his office but it's been a while since you've even seen that fluff of ginger hair. He usually doesn't want you near his work considering how it might put you in danger, but if he isn't taking care of himself then what kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?

Even outside the building, you can feel the effects of what Zhongli talked about. All the agents look like they're on their last legs, there's a gloomy atmosphere surrounding the building even though the sun shines brightly across Liyue harbor, and you can vaguely hear an annoyed Harbinger scolding someone. As soon as you set foot into the building Ekaterina nearly tackles you off your feet. Desperately thanking you for coming and looking at you as if you're the Tsaritsa herself.

As soon as Ekaterina says your name, Childe whips his head around at such a speed that you're afraid his head might fling off as his eyes lock onto yours. You know Childe wouldn't hurt you, never you, but he's looking at you like he's about to devour you and you're suddenly very glad you've never been on the receiving end of his anger. He shoves the papers in his hands into the agent's chest he was probably reprimanding and marches over to where you are.

"C-Childe?" "S-Sir?"

Ekaterina mirrors the wary call of his name until he's finally in front of you and without a word, throws his arms around you. You stumble a bit under his weight but you quickly circle your arms around his back and hold on tight so you don't trip over your own feet. You can only imagine what it looks like for Ekaterina to see her stiff boss suddenly deflate in your arms. A pleased groan escapes from him as he basically lifts you off your feet just so he can hug you closer to him. You almost feel like a child's teddy bear with your legs dangling in the air trapped in a crushing hug. You know that your relationship with Childe isn't a secret but you both don't show any displays of affection, you don't even really interact in public in general, so this is pretty open for the two of you. Well, for you at least. You don't even think Childe is registering anything around him except that you're here.

"Are you okay милый?" you whisper into his ear, nuzzling into the side of his head that's nestled into your shoulder. Your snezhnaya is a little rough around the edges but from how he seems to purr you think he enjoys it nonetheless. "Although I'm happy to see you too, don't you think we should move so we aren't blocking the main entrance?"

He sleepily blinks awake and slowly starts to acknowledge that you're both very much standing at the bank's entrance with everyone shamelessly staring. He frankly looks like he doesn't care, people have working legs, they can walk around you both. But he also doesn't want anyone to find another reason to take him away when he's very comfortable.

"If you need me, don't," is the clipped order that rings out through the bank. You know he's heavily censoring what he actually wants to say but from how everyone cowers away, they can probably tell what would happen if they disobey him. They all give him a nod and a salute before he's picking you up, cradles you into your arms, and swiftly walks upstairs. With a kick of his boot, the door slams shut and he sinks into his chair, you seated pretty on his lap.

"Please never leave me, I think I might die," he groans, re-wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You can only sigh fondly as you gently run your fingers through his hair, rubbing small circles into his scalp and he melts into goo. As if you would want to leave.

Kaveh

You know Kaveh is a bit...eccentric to say the least. He always says what's on his mind and most of the time his thoughts are things he should keep to himself. Even you're not totally immune to his blunt honesty despite the fact he tries to watch how he phrases things when directed to you. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt your feelings, regardless if you know he means no harm. It's rather cute that for someone who doesn't care about what others think of him, he's a bit insecure around you. He likes you, really likes you, and he often finds himself plotting out what he's going to say hours before your lunch date with him. But as soon as you greet him with that charming smile and a brief hug, he turns into putty and whatever flowery language he conjured in his mind is swept away. The confident architect that graduated with honors is reduced to a red-faced mess of stumbling words. It doesn't help that you find it adorable enough to press a chaste kiss to his red cheek and he swears that he's going to pass out from a heat stroke.

He's both extremely glad and terribly conflicted that your love language seems to be touch. He loves it when you brush your fingers through his hair but it always lulls him into sleep so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you hug him tightly but then he never wants to leave so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss but then he goes in for seconds, then thirds, and so on that he doesn't get any work done. If he went into alchemy rather than architecture he would dedicate his life work to studying why you have the touch of an Archon that compels him so. But he didn't and now that he's drowning in debt, he really needs to concentrate and finish his work before the deadline.

So now he has the painful task of trying to find an extremely polite way of asking you to leave him alone without you taking offense and breaking up with him. He would be devastated if he couldn't see your loving gaze on him again. But the situation is dire because as soon as he sees you, all he wants to do is curl up in bed with you in his arms. Preferably forever but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. But every time he tries to bring it up it only takes one look from you for him to stutter and wave off his words. He tries to pep talk himself and every single time he claims that this will be the day that he, very politely, pushes you off, it ends with him melting into goo and waking up the next day with all his untouched work judging him from the table.

It gets to the point that he begins to air his grievances to Alhaitham of all people. To be fair, he doesn't expect the scribe to listen to a word he says and if he did, it would only be because Kaveh needed to pay his share of the rent. But he's pleasantly surprised when you pop up with a guilty smile and that Alhaitham explained his circumstances to you. He tries to clear up the situation, he has no idea what Alhaitham said specifically but it must have been put in the worst way possible, but you take his hands and he shuts up immediately. You give him a light giggle that melts his heart and you tell him to call for you once he's completed his work.

It was the worst decision he's ever made. Second to moving in with Alhaitham. Maybe his judgment of you being an angel was a lie and you were secretly the devil from how often his thoughts were plagued by you. He could draw a circle and think of your eyes. He knows that he's smitten in your presence but he didn't expect that to double when he's suddenly alone. His only motivation is that as soon as he's finished, he'll be able to see you again. But his mind and his work bleed together and he ends up drawing your face instead of buildings and pipes.

He ends up locking himself in his studio and slowly deforming into slime with how awful he's taking care of himself. Alhaitham has to pry him from the table only for Kaveh to flop in his arms that the scribe gives up and hauls the corpse over his shoulder and makes his way to your home. Kaveh still needs to pay his share of the rent so he's not allowed to die before then.

When you opened the door you weren't expecting Alhaitham at your doorstep with Kaveh over his shoulder. He doesn't seem to want to be in this situation either because it looks like he's two seconds away from throwing your boyfriend across the room. But he manages to reign everything in front of you and quickly explains Kaveh's situation, dumping said man into your arms, and telling you to fix it. You shoot him an apologetic smile that he waves off, it's not like it's your fault, before turning around and making his way back to his own home.

"Kaveh?" you whisper gently against his ear to not startle him. It only takes him a second to register your voice before he's perking up and beaming at you. He easily shifts positions so you're in his arms instead. Twirling you around and using the momentum to tuck an arm under your knees and smoothly picking you up, somehow supporting your entire weight in one arm while the other closes the door. Sometimes you forget that Kaveh is really strong despite his lean stature. He is a claymore user after all.

"Darling! What are you doing here?" Kaveh questions while he makes himself at home. If only your living space was big enough for him to store all his work otherwise he would have moved in with you by now.

"Alhaitham mentioned that your recent commission was taking up all your time and you weren't taking care of yourself. Are you alright?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself while Kaveh takes his shoes and coat off. In these types of moments, no matter what you do or say he'll refuse to let you out of his arms. If he has to live with one arm then he'll gladly do so just so long as his other hand is wrapped around you.

"Never better," he replies with a smile. He's obviously lying given the dark circles under his pretty red eyes but the soft look he sends you is enough to tell you that right now, he's never been more comfortable. It makes you a bit flustered to have such an intense gaze on you but Kaveh is always forward with his affections and this isn't any different. With you in his arms, there's nowhere for you to run to when he tilts your chin down and brushes his lips against yours.

"Be still for me..." he whispers, the vibrations of his voice tingling against your skin as both of your eyes slowly close. Only for the moment to shatter by loud knocks on your door. You both jerk apart and turn to the disturbance with varying expressions. You're a flustered mess while Kaveh scowls as if the door offended his entire life's work. He finally sets you down on your feet and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Before marching to the door, flinging it open, and telling the man on the other side to shoo before slamming the door in his face. Unless the world is ending, don't knock.

Ayato

To say Ayato works hard is an understatement. There are several nights when he's glued to his desk rather than resting in bed. Such are the woes of him being forever dedicated to his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner. On days when there are big events and everything needs to be perfect, he's nearly inconsolable that Thoma weighs how much he can get away with if he knocks Ayato out with a frying pan. His pondering doesn't go far because even though Ayato looks like a corpse from the lack of sleep, he'd probably knock Thoma off his feet before the housekeeper could even raise his arms. Ayaka has better luck but she's only able to drag him away for a few minutes before he points in a random direction to divert her attention before disappearing as soon as she turns back. It's just something everyone is aware of and they try their best to support Lord Kamisato. But if it starts to look really bad, like Ayato might drop dead at any second, then you're called in. The last defense and their ace up the sleeve. Not to brag or anything but you have a spotless record and you intend to keep it that way.

It only takes one word from you to have the dignified and cunning Ayato turn into a scared rabbit. His name. None of the wary calls of Lord Kamisato, a dismissal of his titles, and certainly not your affectionate terms of endearment. It always brings the temperature of the room to zero and Ayaka has to double-check that her cyro vision didn't accidentally activate. Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, you're not soft on him and you set your foot down when it comes to his extremes. One of the many reasons he fell in love with you but it's coming back to bite him now. He hates seeing you unhappy, doing anything possible to wipe that frown off your face, but when it's him that's making you so displeased he can't help but look like a scolded puppy.

It doesn't take much for you to know that Ayato has overworked himself to the breaking point again. You understand his duties mean that he's going to be riddled with work but you're his partner first and foremost. You're there to care about Ayato, not the Yashiro Commissioner. And Ayato looks like he's falling apart at the seams. Heavy eye bags, pale complexion, and his body swaying back and forth before he catches himself from falling over. It pains your heart to see him like this and yet still push himself to keep going. So you take one, two, and three steps towards him to delicately take his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles into his palm before intertwining your fingers together.

Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, he doesn't disappear as soon as you take your eyes off him. Just stands there and stares dopily at you while you issue orders to take over his work. God, you look so attractive when you're in control. It's been a while since he's seen anything but paper and ink but did you always look this beautiful? He's so glad he's going to marry you. Maybe he can force the elders to move the ceremony date up. Everyone in the room politely ignores the fact that Ayato is saying these thoughts out loud and how red your face has gotten.

He doesn't object when you pull him out of the room with you, blindly following you wherever you happen to lead him by the hand. As long as your hand is in his, he'll follow you to the ends of the earth if you'll allow it. It's a bit comical how the dignified Yashiro Commissioner recedes into himself and crumbles away into a love-sick man just by a simple touch. At much as it makes you feel a bit shy, it's nice to know that Ayato won't try and weasel his way out of your grasp and return to his work.

If anything he clings to you like an onikabuto on a tree. You have to waddle your way to the baths with an oversized blue-haired man refusing to let go and draping himself over your back. You know he's making this as hard as possible on purpose, just do you can dote and pamper him a bit longer before he succumbs to slumber and has to return to work. It dampens his mood thinking of the future but it's quickly ushered away by the warm water poured over his head. It's fitting that his vision is hydro because he fits himself into the space you provide as you begin to scrub his hair clean.

There's something meditative about having his hair washed by your hands that no one else can replicate. It's a luxury that he only receives when he works hard enough that his arms hang uselessly at his sides and his body slumps into itself. Soft and malleable, completely willing to bend and mold in whatever shape you wish. But your hands scrub through his hair gently, rubbing all the stress out of his body and never complaining. Right now there's nothing else that matters more than being here with you and you with him.

"I'm going to rinse your hair out. Close your eyes now," you softly say and he follows your instructions. The rush of warm water is soothing to his ears although it sparks something in his memory that momentarily takes him out of this romantic moment. He reaches blindly behind him to take your hand, rubbing circles into your palm to halt your actions.

"It's just occurred to me but aren't you supposed to be on a trip to Watatsumi island?" he opens his eyes to peer up at you, his long eyelashes tipped with water droplets reminding you of just how pretty Ayato is. It's almost a good enough distraction for you to forget why exactly you're here rather than speaking with Kokomi right now. Almost.

"I was but someone had to go and work himself to death again. You need to take better care of yourself Ayato. I don't want to see Thoma running across all of Inazuma just to drag me back because you can't seem to sit still for a few seconds," your frown deepens with each sentence. Your free hand that's not in his grasp is knocking against his forehead, albeit not hard enough to cause any actual pain. He only chuckles before pulling you into the water with him until you're sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His head lay comfortably against your thighs.

"Apologies." He's not sorry at all. "When you're not beside me I have to throw myself into my work or else I may go insane."

"Oh so now all of this is my fault," you huff exasperated but he can hear the undertones of how happy that sentence makes you. "Come on, you'll catch a cold if we stay here any longer."

"Mmm, indulge me," he mumbles into your skin, his eyes closing once again with a content smile on his face. He doesn't need to see to know that you have an equally fond expression.

"Oh, so now my lord wishes to relax?"

"Only because you're here."

Alhaitham

You know that your relationship with Alhaitham is unusual to onlookers. You're both polar opposites and yet somehow stumbled into a rather healthy and committed relationship. To others, Alhaitham is a talented and intelligent man. The perfect bachelor if it wasn't for his "extraordinary sense of individualism" that he doesn't pay attention to people around him. He's notorious for being hard to get along with that not even his handsome face is enough for people to sit around for too long. Meanwhile, there's you. A wandering traveler who takes work whenever anyone needs an extra pair of hands. You're a bit well-known for accepting any job that pays well regardless of how dangerous or weird it might be. But unlike Alhaitham, you're more than happy to make conversation and you're often seen conversing with scholars from every one of the Six Darshans.

To everyone's knowledge, it's you that's the clingy one. You always have a hand around his arm or throw yourself at him shamelessly. Everyone assumes that Alhaitham tolerates it because he never pushes you off but he doesn't reciprocate affection to the degree that you do. If only those nosy scholars could see him now. Your newest job has you traveling to the Chasm to help collect and study the newly opened area. While the Chasm is close to Sumeru, a series of mysterious accidents led the entire mine to be closed. With the Liyue Qizing gradually reopening the area there's a lot of ground to cover. Alhaitham doesn't care much for the details except that this means you'll be away from him for a few years rather than a few weeks. As soon as you told him the expected date you'll return his face instantly soured. It was so cute that you couldn't help but press kisses to the corners of his mouth until they lifted. But one thing led to another and you're now trapped underneath his strong figure for the past couple of hours with no signs of him letting go. Every day you're gone equates to one minute he gets to keep you here.

No matter how much Alhaitham wishes to make you stay, even going so far as to bribe you, you eventually gather your things, press one last kiss to his lips, and leave him in his too-quiet house. He doesn't want to admit it but as soon as he closes the door he already feels lonely. But he'll learn to cope and continue with his life. He's been through more challenging obstacles and made it through. It's only two years, 3 months, 14 minutes, and 58 seconds. Alhaitham sighs and leans against the door. He's not going to make it.

Everyone else is content to whisper behind their hands about how the scribe seems to be more hostile. While Alhaitham doesn't have the most friendly personality, he's still somewhat polite until someone gives him a reason to exit the conversation. But now Alhaitham can barely get two sentences in before insulting someone. He doesn't even mean to do it on purpose, it just slips out. A girl who happens to share your eye color is met with a backhanded compliment that she should eat more fish. A man whose skin color is just a shade lighter than yours is met with an irritated scowl before he could even say anything. It's only now that people start to miss your presence because anything is better than a walking warning sign.

It only takes a few weeks for him to crack. He's not usually this starved of attention but the knowledge that he won't see you for another two years has him itching at his wrists. While on the outside there doesn't seem to be any changes, he's perfectly calm and collected, but his facade breaks when he starts making rash decisions. When he heard that his senior Kaveh needed a place to stay due to his financial situation, he offered to live with him much to everyone and his own surprise. Even Kaveh suspiciously asks why Alhaitham is being so generous. He doesn't dignify it with a proper answer, only that he better get his situation fixed within the next two years or the scribe is kicking him out.

As the second year rolls past, it's Kaveh who brings up Alhaitham's sudden mood change. He seems...excited. Kaveh chalks it up to Alhaitham being happy that Kaveh is finally moving out but that'd be kind of low even for someone like Alhaitham. As someone who cares about the arts and romance, there's a certain care in how Alhaitham cleans the house. Every systematic movement is laced with a longing gaze. His wrists are rubbed raw that Kaveh has to physically step in or he might rub so hard he reaches the bone. But above all the dangerous aura around Alhaitham is replaced with something Kaveh can only describe as restless patience.

"Honey, I'm home!" your happy voice is accompanied by the loud slam of the door crashing against the wall. Kaveh is startled by a random stranger entering their house but mostly at the term of endearment. Alhaitham only lowers his book at your voice before going back to reading. A bit rude in Kaveh's opinion but he can see the small smile that Alhaitham tries to hide behind the pages of his book. It's not like you aren't a bit devious yourself. So you retaliate by plucking the book out of his hands, taking a quick glance at his page number before placing it on the desk.

"Welcome back. I assume your job went well?" Alhaitham sighs as you kick his legs apart, plop yourself down into his lap, and rest your head against his chest. If you weren't so enthralled by the masterpiece that was Alhaitham's physique, you would have laughed at how the blond-haired man seemed to stare owlishly at the scene. His eyes almost fall out of their heads when Alhaitham doesn't push you off, doesn't throw you over his shoulder, or even make the slightest hint of being irritated or embarrassed. He just places his hands around your waist, rests his chin on your head, and sends an icy glare to which the blond-haired man scoffs before excusing himself. It's not anything different from what he usually does to onlookers although this is you and you can tell just how weary he is. How deeply he relaxes in your hold as the tension melts from his shoulders. How his eyes search over your body for any injuries that you might have gotten. It does look like you got a bit roughed up during your stay at the Chasm. Your hair is cut shorter than he remembers, you've put on some muscle, and there are a few nicks and cuts running along parts of your skin that are visible. But none of that matters because you're here. You're finally here.

"Aww, Haitham did you miss me?" you tease only to quickly eat your words when he manuever's you sideways so he can pin your back against the couch. You're hit with a sense of deja vu back to two years ago when you were about to leave for this trip.

"The next time you take a commission that lasts longer than two weeks, I'm coming with you or you're not going at all," he grumbles as he tucks himself into the crook of your neck with no signs of leaving. You laugh now but he's dead serious.

Dottore

You aren't sure when it started but at some point, you've been labeled as "Dottore's Favourite". He always seems to be the slightest bit nicer if you happen to be there, his voice a smidge less aggressive, and a lot more touchy. He's a Doctor first so he doesn't want to be contaminated by whatever bacteria people have gathered. But with you, he always seems to have a hand on you. Either harshly pinching your cheeks like a child with a crazed grin whenever you mumble something he deems stupid or pulling your arm of out its socket as he yanks you through the hallways of his lab. You act almost as his shadow, permanently glued to his feet and forced to follow wherever he goes.

You wouldn't consider yourself exceptional at your job but you did know how to listen. Perhaps it was your blatant disregard for your lack of safety since your head was always in the clouds that let you do your job with a steady hand. You don't blame your college's, it's hard to work under so much stress. If you had to do quantum physics and whatever the hell smart people do with someone who could, and would, kill you on the spot if you couldn't tell him what 3567 x 438 was on the spot, you think you could have exploded and crumbled on the spot. But you were just the ditzy receptionist who twirled a pencil on her nose more than on a paper. The only thing you were required to do was make sure Dottore was never bothered and let him know if anyone important needed his attention.

You've seen the Regrator the most compared to the rest of the Harbingers. You don't know what a banker needs from a doctor but you're not about to ask. It's not your business and you aren't paid enough to care about what your boss does. Besides, for such a handsome face his presence creeps you out which is saying something considering there's a maniacal doctor that treats human lives like numbers on a stats page. But since you are his "receptionist" you have to make conversation with him. Most of your interaction extends to him asking if the Doctor is in and you politely saying that he's out. You both pointedly ignore the loud crashes and angry yelling from one of his segments behind the closed steel door.

Once again, you don't consider yourself exceptional at your job. You're just a lousy receptionist at a place that doesn't require it and who spends all their time spinning in the office chair than doing actual work. You're just as replaceable as any grunt in this hell hole. So when Tartaglia waltzes through the doors, blinking at you with his dead fish eyes, before nodding to himself and hauling you out of your chair you can only hope that Dottore manages to remember that he has a meeting with Pantalone at noon.

You're hardly gone for an hour. Tartaglia was just bored, bored enough to come to Dottore of all people, that he happened to spot you who looked equally as bored. He just roughed you up a little before he deemed you completely useless and a horrible fighter before sending you back on your way. Seriously, if he wanted a fight he should have just picked one of the skirmishers instead of a damn receptionist. Although you may have to reconsider your position because as soon as you walk back into the lab, a girl is throwing herself at you and demanding where you've been.

You don't get the chance to answer before she's hurriedly running down twisting hallways, down the stairs, and punching in codes so complicated it looked like she was trying to make music out of them. Whatever questions you have are ignored in favor of getting you somewhere as fast as possible. It begins to make sense when you're finally shoved into a room, the girl who dragged you all this way throwing herself onto her knees and begging for forgiveness for letting you wander off.

The lab is an absolute disaster. This isn't the organized chaos you're acquainted with but the aftermath of a manic episode you're familiar with. Glass shards dripping with fluorescent liquid, research notes torn apart that flutter around the room as faux snow, and one mad doctor in the middle.

"Where have you been?"

For someone who destroyed years worth of progress, he sounds oddly calm and collected. His deep voice is firm while he fiddles with a test tube of blue liquid, watching it slosh around before placing it onto a broken table. He barely pays any mind to the girl currently on her hands and knees, forehead pressed to the ground while she glares at you to say something.

"Out," is your reply. A casual shrug of your shoulders even though the Dottore's back is to you. He's not wearing his usual white coat. That's too bad, you think it looks kinda cool. Really goes with his bird aesthetic.

"Out...out you say. Out. Out. Out," he mumbles softly, each time he say's the word "out", he taps the test tube harder onto the table. The lull in conversation only makes the pressure of the room drop lower before the tension snaps and he hurls the test tube at the girl still on her knees. It's only thanks to your reflexes that you manage to grab the collar of her uniform and throw her back just as the test tube collides with the floor, the liquid melting away the concrete where her head was. You can only give her a nudge and a look towards the door for her to scramble to her feet and flee as far away as she can. The slam of the door behind her acting as the nail in the coffin as Dottore's body seems to slump in on itself.

"Where have you been?" he asks again, running a hand through his messy hair. He sounds and looks far more tired, his fingers twitching to reach out and hold you but his pride stopping him. So you push yourself and step forward into his space, reaching your hands out to cup his face and rubbing soothing circles into his porcelain skin. He doesn't lean into your touch but he doesn't push you away either.

"Getting tossed around by Tartaglia. He came by saying he was bored and I just so happened to be there," you say absentmindedly, twirling the long lock of blue hair that hangs off the sides of his mask. He responds by snatching your wrist, squeezing hard enough until your bones creak. "Were you worried? Did you think I ran away?"

He doesn't dignify your question with a response. Simply shrugging your hands off his face before he reaches up to pinch your cheeks, a familiar cackle vibrating from his chest.

"As if you would have anywhere to go."

———

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