It started with him insisting on exploring your body and appreciating every curve and sharp plane you have. He took his time tracing his fingers down your skin, admiring the way your skin soaked in the moonlight. That night he spent all his time on you, demonstrating the way he understood your body. Your throat was raw, thick with tears as he made you cum over and over. Your voice was cracked as you moaned out praises, praises that made him impossibly harder and desperate to hear more. His gentle hands, the way they slipped off your old underwear, the way they gingerly removed your hands from blocking his view of your glistening cunt, every movement showed his love. His soft kisses that assured you he didn’t care you didn’t have time to shave. Keiji gave you everything.
And yet you see the way he nitpicks at himself. Keiji never speaks on it, but you see the way he makes himself smaller under the eyes of others. The way he stares at his hands, the wrinkle between his eyebrows that forms as he mentally criticizes his cracked skin, the callouses from years of editing, the swollen knuckles forever tinted pink from moments he wishes he didn’t have. You see the way he comes up behind you in the mirror, his eyes and words full of love and adoration that only dissipates when he glances at himself.
You didn’t force him to be in front of a mirror, not wanting to push himself too far out of his comfort zone. Instead you covered the mirror with a towel and stood in front of him, gently removing his sweatshirt. He’s left shirtless and you see the way his arms twitch, wanting to cover his body even though there’s no fault in sight. His chest flushes red when you slowly kiss down his torso, soft and gentle like he always is with you. Keiji mutters softly, something about you still being dressed but you let his words fall out from his swollen lips onto stubborn ears. His breath hitches when you get to his waistband, anticipating your lovely mouth on his hardening cock.
Keiji glances down at you confused when you turn him around, his face growing hotter when he feels your lips on the small of his back. He lets out a small gasp when your teeth graze his skin and he feels you leaving marks, never realizing how sensitive he is there.
“I love seeing your back,” Your voice is soft. “Even when you’re fully dressed, I love seeing it. It reminds me of how strong you are, how much you’re willing to be there for me and it makes me want to be better.” You don’t see the way his eyes flutter shut, already feeling overwhelmed by your touches and now your words.
“I especially don’t mind this,” You giggle and playfully squeeze his ass. Keiji lets out a quick, surprised laugh, he’s embarrassed and yet he can’t help but roll his eyes at you. His breath hitches when you reach around and cup him, ripping a low moan from him.
“Please touch me,” his voice breaks at your name and you move your hand away from him. Your lips trailing up his back and between his shoulder blades, sending chills down his spine.
“I am, Keiji.” Your voice teases him. “You spend so much time loving me, telling me how beautiful I am inside and out. I can never fully repay you with how much you love me, but I want to try every day showing you the same.”
Before he can respond, you gently nudge over him to your shared bed. His back hits the soft mattress, skin tingling where you’ve left your bites. Keiji looks up at you as you straddle him, eyes glistening in the moonlight wondering what he did to ever deserve someone like you. No one has ever taken the time to see him, to understand his insecurities, always brushing them off. Until you.
You. You. You.
It’s all he can think of when it’s your lips easily finding his most sensitive spots, muffled words of how much you love each part of him.
His throat that holds his lovely voice, the very one that sings softly in the shower and holds the laugh you fell in love with.
His cheeks that blush so easily, always giving away what he’s feeling even though he tries so hard to not get so flustered around you.
His thoughts turn fuzzy when you start to suck on his tongue, your hands lightly pinching his nipples. When you pull away with lips glistening, he vaguely hears how much you love the way he speaks.
You. You. He loves you.
His soft noises grow louder when your hot tongue is on his skin again, brushing against his sensitive nipples while he whimpers at your teasing bites.
Keiji is panting by the time you reach his hips again, his belly quaking under your hot touch. You look up at him with a sweet smile when he gives out a desperate whine, eyes cutting so deep into him he wants to look away and yet…He’s drawn to the way your knuckles drag down his skin, your hands pulling down his sweats freeing his aching cock.
“No underwear?” Your voice is light, teasing. “I thought you were a good boy, I didn’t know you were so dirty.”
“N-no, I’m your good boy, please.” His voice strains as your fingers brush past his cock and grab his hand instead.
“You are, you are, Keiji.” You reassure him with a kiss against his knuckles, “See these?” Your question pulls his eyes to your intertwined fingers. “They create, they hold, they’re attached to you. I love your hands, Keiji, and those flaws you hate are what I love them so much for.” Keiji’s plump lips murmur your name, his words trail off and muffle when you slip his fingers into your mouth, his cock twitching at the way you hold his gaze.
You pop off his fingers, “Your hands ground me, they make me come undone, they tease me. I love your hands. I love you.” You move over him again, your nipples peeking through his old shirt catches his attention only briefly until you lead his soaked fingers under your shorts.
He chokes on another moan when you slip his fingers between your thighs, fingers that instinctively move to collect your slick and rub circles against your clit. Somehow you manage to kick off your shorts and underwear, all while leaning in to whisper declarations of love into his ear.
“I can’t change how you see yourself in one night, Keiji. But dammit I’ll spend every minute convincing you how beautiful you are to me.” You take his hand from between your thighs and pin it down by his head, words straining as you rub his cock between your wet folds.
“Keiji,” you moan when you start to sink down into his cock. “My sweet boy, my baby. I love you so much.”
He answers back with your name in a gasp, head falling back against the pillows when he feels how tight and wet you are for him. He knows you haven’t prepped, he must be stretching you out too much right now, but you’re still so wet for him. Is it all because of him? All from just you exploring his body?
“Keiji, please. Be my good boy and let me hear how good you feel,” You don’t give yourself much time to adjust to his length when you start to rock your hips against his.
His moans rise in the bedroom, intertwining with the sounds of your bodies against the other. His cock stretches you out and fills you so deliciously, not even you can hold back any longer. Praises tumble out from you now, praises that shoot into his heart and you can feel his cock throbbing inside you. Your teeth are against the pulse point in his neck again, and he moans grow raspier feeling your soothing tongue on his broken skin. Keiji’s hands grip the fat on your hips, fingertips digging tighter when you clench your pussy around him.
Your hands tug at his hair with each roll of his hips against yours, his breathy moans growing impossibly louder.
“I’m- fuck, baby I’m gonna-” His hand is shaky when he moves his fingers between your thighs again, desperately rubbing your swollen clit to get you to fall faster over the edge. His sweet noises make your pussy clench tighter, both of you aren’t going to last long and yet you both want to stay like this forever.
“Cum for me, Keiji. Be good and cum inside me,” You wish you didn’t sound like you were begging, but you can’t hold back much longer. His cock never fails to brush against your g-spot, and even when tonight is focused on him, somehow Keiji still manages to roll his hips in the way that makes your mind go blank and eyes roll back.
Keiji’s nose brushes against yours, lips desperate to find yours when he feels his balls tightening. Whines and moans are muffled and hum against your tongues when you both tumble over the edge, your pussy clamping down to milk him for all that he’s got. The kiss breaks between both of you gasping for air, clammy hands reaching towards the other to hold you both closer. His eyes flutter open and find yours, words unsaid are held in your guys’ gaze. Keiji’s cheeks are dusted pink, brightening when he feels his cum dripping out from you onto his thighs.
Your hips jut forward to ride out your orgasm and your heart flutters at his small whines, his cock so sensitive already. You’re nowhere near done with him tonight.
-(-)-
a/n: another oldie but a goodie! happy birthday keiji!!
My ultimate horny thought is about the 1000 winds au where Creator!Reader is such a radiant, pregnant being and Venti just being so in love with her. Like, he is constantly pumping her and impregnating her so she is constantly round with his babies 😭
Minors do not interact with this post.
Oh. 💨💨
If only child bearing is as pleasurable as child making, you'd definitely let him pump you full of his seed every time even after giving birth. So Venti indulges himself with his fantasies of fucking multiple wind spirits into you once you've recovered and ready.
And it's not like he's not constantly indulging in you even when you were still pregnant. The fact that you're hornier and much more needy than him really gets his cock stirring to life. In fact, sometimes he has to let out a defeated moan to let you know you've already fucked the anemo power out of him, as well as milking his balls dry.
Anyway, the horniness of pregnant you will always overpower his own horniness. So when you beg him for one last round, he can't even deny you of you wish despite how overstimulated he already is. For his wife and god's wish is his command.
Tags: alcohol, noncon, drugging, no one is nice here, fem!reader
Characters: Fatgum, Present Mic, Mirko, Sir Nighteye
Note: Listen I've been enjoying my liquor a little too much in the last weeks - request are open!
Fatgum
Have you seen the size of this man? No matter the form, he'd have to down a keg of stout to even feel a tickle. He talks you into a beer after work, fully aware of the fact that you can’t say no to him. ‘Just one’ turns into many more - he keeps the supply up and the mood light. It doesn't take long for you to get a bit closer, a little more open and a little droopy in the face.
You barely notice the big hand on your shoulder after a couple of rounds, and how it slowly makes its way downwards. You’re too distracted by how nice he is...
Oh, he knows about that cute little crush you have on him - so it’s technically consensual when he feels you up after a couple of beers, right? He’s just giving you some liquid courage, to make things move faster between you.
Present Mic
He's smart about it. Drags you to some bar and drinks alongside you, egging you on and on - and acts drunker than he really is. He’s so fun to be around - he doesn’t stop talking, shows you little card tricks and laughs at your stupid jokes. He makes you feel good. Maybe even a little too good, because you both keep ordering cocktail after cocktail, making a whole shtick out of trying the ones with the silliest names. You're having the time of your life - until you aren't, because the alcohol (no matter how fruity and sweet all those drinks were) catches up to you all at once. The moment your stomach starts to cramp and your mouth waters in anticipation of the incoming vomit, you know you're done for.
He helps you through the puking with a comforting hand on your back and kind words until you somehow end up in his apartment, completely knocked out and with his hands in your underwear.
Mirko
Gives you alcohol she's been gifted. She tells you how it's bad for her muscle definition - with the resulting heightened water retention, bloat and all. But you like alcohol, right? And you don't have to keep a keen eye on your diet - oh, and why don't you try a little right now? She wants to know if it's good, after all. She’s grinning and her tone is so casual you don’t suspect a thing - who says no to free (expensive) booze anyway, right? (Not to mention that she’s one of your dearest friends - see, she thinks of you, ready to share her spoils and all.)
So you pick one of the bottles that catches your eye and pour yourself a little glass while she chats you up. One glass turns into two - and two into five. You can tell it’s expensive because it rolls off your tongue without the tiniest bite. Between the conversation and the alcohol you don't notice that your body is starting to feel fuzzy until you get up because you need to use the restroom and everything is spinning. The moment you're back she's all over you, making little jabs about you can't handle your liquor and how it looks like you desperately need her.
And she won’t stop teasing until she’s knuckle deep in your cunt while you drool into her bedsheets.
Sir Nighteye
Doesn't actively get you drunk, but knows you like to drink. With how chatty you are about your evening plans to Kaoruko, it isn't hard to figure out where you'll be spending your Friday night.
Your mortified face when your boss not only stalks into the bar but comes right up to your table (in front of your friends, no less) is priceless. You’re stunned into almost wordless compliance as he drags you out of the establishment and back into the office, all silent himself until you're finally back. You can barely stagger into a chair to rest your aching feet before he gives you a whole spiel about how irresponsible you are and how - even outside of your work - you’re a face of the agency and how you should act accordingly.
The alcohol makes you a little bold and you have the gall to ask him if he's serious.
Bad, bad move.
Well, you'll know just how serious he is after he's spanked your ass raw. And maybe he's been banking on you talking back, but you'll never know.
Yūji likes mean girls, he likes girls who aren't afraid to rough him up; he likes girls who are easy to piss off. Why does he like girls like this? — He likes seeing the shock on a mean girl's face when he slaps her. He likes seeing the digust turn into pleasure when he spits in a mean, mean girl's mouth.
You're so fucking pretty, and mean. "Fuck, Yūji, shut up wouldja?", you say to him, pretty acrylics shining in his face from the way you're holding up your middle finger. All he did was say you look like a nasty little girl who likes having spit in her mouth.
"Cmon princess, you know you like that kinda shit." You don't like the confidence he says that with. "Bet you look all cute with your tongue out and a lil spit hanging off it." You kinda like the want he says that with.
Now he's getting closer to you, hands coming up to your soft cheeks. And now he's squeezing 'em, rubbing his rough fingertips just enough so that your pretty pink tongue lolls out. You wanna speak but you can't, you know what's about to happen. "See? you do like it baby, didn't even have to coax you. i just do what i fucking want, huh?" A soft little 'mhm' comes outta that pretty mouth he's finna spit in, god he fucking likes you.
You watch him with big, stupid eyes as he opens his mouth and spits a fat glob out into yours. He was right, you do like it. You're so fucking embarrased at how you smile afterwards. "You're so fucking gross, Yūji, i mean spitting in my mouth?" He doesn't like the truthfulness behind your statement. He grabs your pretty, pretty face again, and slaps you. So hard that cute little tears start beading up on your lashline.
"That was for calling me gross sweetheart, don't ever do that shit again when you're the one who smiles at getting their mouth spit into, yeah?" He absolutely loves the look on your face right now, and the pretty pink spot he left on your sweet skin.
Ok hear me out, sub Atsumu with a mommy kink.....?? (and maybe tag me if u do it?)
ATSUMU, who denies he has a mommy kink for the longest time, lying straight through his teeth each time he says it.
The first time he says it, it completely slips through his lips. After making some stupid bet, he had ended up completely restrained, with a blindfold resting over his eyes. He thrashed around, feeling the shocks of overstimulation coursing through his body as you continued the fast strokes of his cock.
He curses and sends demands, losing hope each time his tantrums lead to year another painful orgasm. By this point his balls are aching after having spilled load after load onto his stomach. He gets desperate, wanting nothing more than to feel your cunt wrapped around his cock.
When another broken cry of your name leaves his mouth, you’ve had enough. Leaning in, lips just barely brushing his, you whisper the words you’ve been aching to say all night. “That’s not my fuckin’ name, ‘Tsumu..”
He can’t help the way his cock twitches in response, knowing that he’ll have to admit it if he wants to feel the warmth of your cunt. Deciding to cut the shit, he’s ready to embrace the truth he’s kept buried deep in his darkest fantasies..
“Mommy, please.. ‘Need you..”
send me a character and a kink, i’ll give you a thirst/headcanon (CLOSED)
no but imagine touya discovering your nipple piercings. the smug smirk on his face as he lifts your shirt, lips pressing kisses to the column of your throat and exposed collarbones. thinking he has you right in the palm of his hand until your bra comes off, giving him an eyeful of the pretty tits he loves to grope so much and the silver jewelry that adorns them. his eyes nearly roll back into his head and he groans, cock giving an interested kick in his jeans. there’s no way he can keep his hands off you. his mouth latches onto your nipple, sucking and biting hard enough to make you yelp before soothing it with his pierced tongue. feeling him moan against you each time he sucks the swollen bud into his mouth. relishing in your whimpers as he tweaks your other nipple with his thumb and forefinger. definitely fucks you in missionary that night, desperate to watch your pierced tits bounce with each harsh snap of his hips.
You twisted the knob and let the door creak open, the foreign noise made all parties quiet. From the gap, you peek out and see Cyprus, his mother, and another person standing by the doorframe, it seems like the stranger has tried to push their way in but couldn't succeed, thanks to Cyprus's hulking figure serving as an immovable gate.
Cyprus shot you a glare as he gestured for you to go back into the bathroom and close the door, he did so by jerking his head in the general direction of your original hiding place.
"Who's there?" The third voice was deceptively soft and kind, it couldn't be one of the voices shouting so fervently. It is feminine, and you immediately assume the worst; one of his insane exes is here. You made the smart move to retreat back and shut the door behind you, but you still pressed your ear against the barrier. It allowed you to listen to their muffled voices.
"Get the fuck out of my sight or we're calling the cops." Cyprus sounded aggressive with his guttural growl, which made you appreciate the way he speaks to you these days with the sweetest coos and murmurs.
"Who was that, Cyprus!?" You winced when the stranger let out a shrill shout. It is followed by the sound of struggling and yelling from Cyprus and his mother. It sounded violent, there was clattering of furniture and vague thudding, to which you can only deduce that the stranger is destroying the place and Cyprus is trying to stop it from happening.
There were panicked exclamations from Cyprus's mother amongst the chaos. In the end, you heard a slam so loud that it echoed throughout the apartment and caused the bathroom walls to reverberate. There was muffled screaming, but it was much softer than before; you assumed that Cyprus successfully shut the door on her. Aside from her deranged shouting, the living room was mostly quiet, and you deemed it safe enough to leave your safe refuge.
You cautiously opened the door and slipped out of the bathroom once more. The front door is locked, latched, and barricaded by a sofa. Cyprus is staying clear of the door, you could hear manic banging on it.
His mother is nowhere to be seen, but you hear her voice talking on the phone from her room. It sounds like she's talking to an emergency line operator.
Ignoring the frightening sounds of insanity outside, Cyprus calmly walked to you and firmly wrapped his arm around your waist. He pressed an assuring kiss on your head as he led you into his mother's bedroom. You asked him what was going on, and to that, he merely flashed you a smile. "Don't worry about it," Cyprus said as he shared a look with his mother before shutting the door behind him.
You saw his mother hastily walk to the door, blocking it with her body as if guarding it. All this while, she was still on the phone with the operator. You think that she's trying to stop you from getting out.
You took a few steps and decided to sit on a chair, it's probably not very safe to be outside anyway. You nervously wring your hands as your ears continued to pick up on the shouting and hitting. All you could do was pray that the police would be here soon, even if Cyprus is a professional boxer, his fists are no match with a bullet if she happens to be armed and dangerous.
You waited and waited. Somewhat grateful for the older woman's presence in the room. Even if she doesn't look like she could physically do much to protect you, the idea that she's willing to be a barrier between danger and yourself is heartwarming. Yet pitiful, she is only doing this because she perceived you to be the best option yet; she is paying for her son's atrocious taste in women.
The two of you waited, the operator stayed on the phone with her. You were sure that the stranger's havoc was audible enough for the microphone in her device to pick up.
It felt like eons before it slowly became softer and softer, you deduced the deranged woman somewhat lost interest and walked away. You sighed in relief but tensed up when you noticed Cyprus's mother was still not as calm as you like. She widened her eyes when she realized where you were sitting.
You let out a surprised exclamation when she suddenly grabbed you by the arm and pulled you away from your resting place.
Your questions are shortly answered with a deafening crash and tiny stings as shards of glass give you small, but painful cuts on your skin. His mother rushed to open the door, dragging you out of the room and pushing you into Cyprus's protective arms. He was eerily silent, staring at the cause of his mother's glass window shattering. You adjusted your head, so you could see past his muscular structure.
A rock. Not particularly large, it's smaller than the size of your palm, resting on the floor with glistening specks of broken glass illuminated by the lights above. Other than that, nothing seems to be amiss, except unintelligible, distressed yelling coming from outside.
The implications sent shivers down your spine, the three of you aren't on the ground floor. That means whoever Cyprus invoked the wrath of, was powerful enough to hurl a rock to break a window at this height. The fear subconsciously made you sink deeper into Cyprus for comfort, so he wrapped his arms around you tighter. He pressed numerous kisses on the crown of your head as he whispered words of assurance, but you were too occupied to register what he said.
After that, you heard a car alarm go off along with disordered metallic whacking and banging. You think she's in the process of destroying Cyprus's car; he, his mother, and you were hoping that the police would be here sooner. He sighed softly, you knew that he was angry and despondent, who wouldn't be, knowing that the vehicle that you bought with your hard-earned money was being eviscerated? However, Cyprus is clearly trying to control his temper around you, so as to not make any brash decisions to put you in harm's way. As shown by his enraged shaking. The idea of compromising your safety was the only thing stopping him from rushing down the fire stairs and beating her half to death.
His mother rubbed his arm to calm him further. She shared a sympathetic look with you.
-
The woman was long gone when the police arrived. It took almost all evening for them to gather evidence and everyone's statements. Dinner was long forgotten, the beer was at room temperature and his car was totaled; the offender managed to mar it so badly, it couldn't even start anymore. There were fluids of different colors and viscosity leaking out of his once functional vehicle, and Cyprus had to arrange for a flatbed tow truck.
You were treated for the minor cuts you sustained by the paramedics, Cyprus refused to leave you alone with them. Almost raising hell when one of them politely asked him to give you a bit of privacy, luckily you were there to tell them that you're fine with him being around to supervise.
His mother drove the two of you back to his apartment, Cyprus held the sourest look on his handsome face as he was in the foulest mood. It was so bad, that he didn't even care to touch you in any way nor did a sound leave his lips. His eyes are perpetually trained forward on the windshield, you don't think he blinked once; even if the headlights of another car were shining directly into his eyes.
You couldn't help but feel somewhat guilty, feeling like you caused all of this just because you're nosy. Maybe if you stayed still in the bathroom, his Ex wouldn't have done this much damage.
Luckily the drive wasn't that long. Before you felt too compelled to say something, his mother announced that she had reached your destination.
Cyprus gave her a curt goodbye before storming out of the car. But he didn't ascend the stairs yet, he merely loitered nearby to wait for you. His fingers are twitching, itching for a cigarette or ten. To quell his urges, he leaned against a wall and crossed his arms, letting himself steam in his fury. His steely eyes never left you, though.
You excused yourself and got out of the car too, in a much calmer way.
"Mija." She had her window rolled down. She gestured for you to come closer.
You did, and you received a maternal kiss on the cheek, a solemn goodbye for now.
You were about to pull away and return to Cyprus, but she held you by the wrist. You turned your head back to her, it appears that she has something more to say.
"He is not angry at you." She gave you a kind smile. "Please don't worry, my son loves you very much."
Was it obvious on your face? Either that, or she's a mind reader.
You dismissed yourself and walked up to him. His mother drove away and you hope that she gets home safely. No doubt, she's still shaken by that.
He uncrossed his arms and approached you too in large strides, spooking you. But he didn't do anything other than to tuck his arm under your knees, to carry your bridal style. This, of course, embarrassed you. So you protested, but it was quickly shut down when he shot you a threatening glare and barred his teeth, like a dog. You shrunk back and let him carry you up the stairs like this; perhaps this is his way of cooling off now, seeing that he doesn't want to break his smoke-free streak.
He unlocked the door, opened it, and immediately locked it behind him. Cyprus, despite all his anger, sets you down on the couch extremely gently. He marched off into the bathroom but he didn't close the door behind him as he merely washed his hands with soap. It didn't take long before he returned with clean, dry hands, You didn't even notice that he had set your medicated drops on your lap.
"Look up." You didn't dare to make a fuss, his tone was already strongly suggesting that he was not playing with you. He swiftly applied your eye drops before recapping them and putting them away.
You were rewarded a kiss on the forehead and a praise, "Good girl." He whispered softly as you squeezed your eyes shut. You wonder if he's just going to do this each time he administers your drug until you're cured.
Cyprus shot up and spent no time going to the kitchenette. You watched him prepare the utensils and ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner. You were curious why he would rather go through the trouble of doing so instead of ordering food delivery. But you weren't comfortable asking him that, so silence hung heavy in the air.
He looked exhausted, and you knew that there were an impossible number of thoughts behind those grey eyes that were concealed by the glare of his glasses. You felt some sympathy for him, after knowing a bit more about his history earlier.
As it turns out, the offender was indeed, an Ex of his. Cyprus has moved many times due to constant harassment from his previous lovers and the police's incompetence. She is one of them, but not the sole terror. She had found his mother first, and she was stalking her for months; around the time you and Cyprus became an item.
The woman tried to gain his mother's favor, leaving gifts, running errands for her, and trying to talk to her every chance she got, all to his mother's approval for their relationship and to know where his son was. It was completely inappropriate, that she would pretend to be incredibly close to his mother, following her to church gatherings and introducing everyone around as Cyprus's mother's daughter-in-law. This terrified his mother, but she was sadly used to it, as this wasn't the first or even the fifth Ex to do this.
She tried alerting Cyprus through texts or by calling him, but he has the bad habit of brushing her concerns off. His exes would usually lose interest in her over time and leave her alone without Cyprus's intervention. After you started "dating" him, she couldn't get a hold of him, as he was constantly too busy enjoying the healthiest love life he ever had. Cyprus knew if he had told her about you too soon, they would get into a fight; his mother would always assume the worst in his girlfriends no matter what he says now. That's why, he decided to surprise her with your existence earlier today.
As it turns out, the conversation that he had with her all afternoon was about you, gushing about how amazing of a person you are, telling her how happy you made him; and as his mother, she could see it. She could see that you are actually a positive force for her son. Someone entirely different from the types of monsters he would always attract. You're so lovely, so kind, so docile. She only wished that Cyprus would shut up for a while so she could tell him about the looming threat of one of his stalkers. But every time she tried to change the subject, Cyprus would cut her off and talk about you instead, too blinded by his infatuation with you to realize that he was foolish.
Alas, she could also see that her son loves you much, much more than you love him. Maybe that was the missing piece after all, that Cyprus is a giver, not a receiver. There is always a downside to everything, and in this case, it was the fact that you don't seem to want this relationship. But she thinks that can be worked around, she just needs to convince you to stay and she will try her damned hardest to do so. A mother wants nothing but to see her son happy and thriving.
In a sense, this was his fault. This is entirely his fault, you should be absolved of all blame. He should feel like crap, not you. Cyprus deserved this, if only he listened to his mother, if only he picked up his mother's phone call from time to time if only he hadn't stopped by at her apartment... if only he hadn't met you--
Your train of thought was broken by Cyprus nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, greedily inhaling your scent as he trapped you in his arms. You made no move to stop him, to stop his fondling or kisses.
"Stop blaming yourself." He mumbled against your skin as he rubbed his hands over your thighs. You didn't deny it, because you knew that you did, no matter how much you tried to squash the guilt.
"It wasn't your fault." He continued, pulling you into his lap and resting his chin on your head. "And I'm not mad at you, so stop the pouting... even though you look so fucking cute doing that, I don't want my baby feeling bad about something she didn't do, or caused." His fingers were stroking your bandages covering the cuts from the glass shards, it was feathery and uncharacteristically gentle.
Just with that, you broke down into tears. Sobbing and gasping for air, it felt like your mind was acting separate from your body; as you told yourself to stop whatever it was you were doing, but your mouth kept spewing quivery apologies to Cyprus. You gripped hard onto his shirt and cried, wetting the fabric and making it cling to his chiseled chest.
You felt vibrations as he chuckled at your involuntary reaction. "Aw, come on, doll. I already said I wasn't mad at you." You felt his lips curl up into a smile.
You hid your face and whimpered, embarrassed and still guilty over what had happened. Cyprus coaxed your arm away from your face, and you saw him smirking down at you with such amusement.
"Is my baby still guilty?" He cooed, "Oh, you're such a sweet, selfless, kind girl. You're paying a price that wasn't meant for you... what can I do to take your pretty little mind off what happened, mi cielo?" He teasingly pinched your cheek. You wanted to slap his hand away, but you're still quite upset.
"¿Quieres un beso, hm?" His Spanish rolled effortlessly from his tongue, perhaps it was too fast for you to catch, so you were momentarily distracted from your despair. "No, ¿quieres muchos besos, mi corazón?"
He grinned widely when he saw that you were slowly coming off that loop of self-pity.
You stared at him dumbfoundedly. "Say 'Sí'."
You entertained his request, only to be attacked by a flurry of kisses on your face. You kicked your legs in the air, but it was futile. It's not slowing him down.
Cyprus ended it with a long, passionate press on your lips. He has his eyes closed and you close yours too, as you allow the bliss of the moment to wash the unease away. He slipped his hand under your shirt, caressing your bare flesh as he enjoyed the warmth you shared with him.
However, he pulled away. Earlier than usual, but he cupped your cheeks and pressed his forehead against yours. "Don't you ever feel bad for that bitch. I don't want you to feel any of this was your fault. I don't want you to feel pity for her and I don't want you to feel pity for me." He murmured.
"I can take care of myself, and I sure as hell can take care of you." He paused momentarily to give you a quick and playful peck on the lips. "I love you, baby. I'm never letting you go, no matter what. I don't fucking care what I have to do, I'm never leaving you and I'll go through hell to keep you if I have to." Cyprus gave the shell of your ear a sensual nibble, sending jolts down your spine.
You stayed still as he showered you in love for a minute, slowly recovering from earlier events and absorbing his words.
"Te amo." He whispered before mischievously blowing hot air into your ear, making you jerk away and whine. This merely made him laugh at your flustered face. "There's my girl, my whiny, weepy, baby doll."
You complained, telling him not to do that. He ignored it and smiled wider.
"Te amo." Said Cyprus.
You asked what that meant.
"Hm? You have to be specific, Cariño." He brought your hand to his lips, grazing them against your knuckles. "I said many things in Spanish, I won't know which one you're referring to unless you specify."
Te amo, you wanted to know what that meant. So you repeated it in front of him. And at that moment, you felt a sense of deja vu, but you pushed it away.
He chuckled and ruffled your hair. "Ya sé que sí." Cyprus suddenly tickled you on your sides, making you involuntarily show him a smile and letting him hear the peal of laughter he had been craving all day.
Suddenly, he firmly but lovingly pushed you off his lap, onto the couch and got up, because the pot containing tonight's dinner was bubbling over. Cyprus left the stove on for too long, too busy consoling you in his own bastard way to realize that it's making a mess.
"Shit!" He cussed, the dish was ruined. Unsalvageable from its mangled corpse, there is no way he's going to eat it, let alone feed you.
Usually, something like this would stress him out to the point he would have a whole pack of cigarettes for dinner instead. But ever since he had you, Cyprus has learned to laugh it off. Because you just had that effect on him, that calming effect that no nicotine or drug could give. It's quite literally, addicting.
He dumps the pot into the sink with a face that's visibly uplifted, a major improvement from before. Cyprus turned around and opened a cabinet, he stared at the contents for a while before looking back at you.
"Shrimp, chicken, or beef?" He asked while presenting three packages of instant noodles with three different flavors.
