ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 — R U $TILL HUNGRY?

ISN’T WHISPERING AND STROKING SOMEONE’S CHEEK BOTH ACTIONS..?

ok im aorry for wording it as actions!! it seems easier for me to explain that way but:

“You are beautiful,” he said. — a dialogue tag is composed of quotations so there should be a comma unlike when it shows action or action beats. quotation > dialogue > period > quotation > action verb if such was the case.

remember:

dialogue tag — specifies who is speaking

action beat — specifies the action that is being done

ੈ✩‧₊˚ “pussy put his ass to sleep, now he callin’ me NyQuil…”

Suguru x fem!reader

Suguru used to swear off relationships, he liked to fuck and labels were exhausting. He felt strongly about this, until he had met you. He liked the intimacy, the connection, and the safety he felt with you. At times, he wondered the possibility of soulmates with the way you two seemed to fit into each other so naturally.

Your pussy being able to put him in a coma was just a bonus.

Suguru had sweat dripping from his brow, his eyes shut tight as he felt the warm stickiness of your wet cunt wrapped tightly around his thick cock. The feeling of Suguru's tip hitting your cervix nearly made you stop breathing. His cock leaking into you as he whined into your ear, “so fuckin’ good!” getting lost in the feeling of your tight cunt sucking him in. He had you in missionary, wanting needing to see your reactions every time he pounded into you roughly. Your nails dug into his soft skin, your mouth wide open letting cries of pleasure bounce on the wall.

“Guru’, R-right there!” You let out a silent scream as a strong pressure fills your cunt. He sped up, biting your shoulder to hush his own moans and indulge in yours. “wa-it, suguru!—“ you gasped, trying to push him away. He laughed breathily at your attempts, pinning your hands above you head as your eyes began to water. “Nuh uh, not going anywhere..” moving one hand to your waist to lift you up a little, perfectly battering the most sensitive part of you. You squirmed as your vision started to blur, the intense feeling made your legs shake and release liquid from your swollen and puffy pussy. You laid there lifeless, trying to breathe as suguru pulled away to watch the way you twitched.

“Look at this pussy~” he cooed when you tried to close your legs, his fingers too much for how sensitive you’ve become. He pulled them apart, a sadistic look in his eye as he let a glob of cool spit land on your soaked cunt, using his thumb to spread it. You bit your lip to hold back a whine, your back arching off the bed. “Is it too much?” Your glossy eyes met his and you nodded. He leaned down to kiss your lips, “you still gonna’ help me cum?” You paused before nodding again, a little sniffle coming from you when you felt his dick grind against you.

“Such a good girl, my perfect girl..” he praised, pulling back to watch his tip push into you again. He looked at the way your brows furrow, a small whimper leaving your glossy lips. Suguru smirked before shoving himself into you fully, taking a sharp intake of breath and letting his head roll back, “fu—uck..”

you immediately tried to pull away only for him to grab your soft hips. “Don’t run baby—you can take it.” His voice strained, fucking into you harder than before, finally chasing his own release. His hand wrapped around your throat, your voice squeaking up higher as you begged for him to use you. You reached up to tweak his nipples making a shiver run up his spin, a choked moan escaping him. “That’s it baby, take that fuckin’ dick.”

He curled himself into your neck when he came, continuing his rutting to work the both of you through your orgasms. He came a lot, purring as you whispered affirmations to him. “Love your pussy..” he muttered into your ear, kissing your neck while trying to level his breathing and wrap his arms around you. You smiled and played with his hair, knowing how much he loves the feeling.

After noticing how quiet it got, you got suspicious. “suguru?” Looking down, only to notice he had fallen asleep, still inside of you and on top of you. You groaned and rolled your eyes, “get up! suguru?! You do this every time-“ you were cut off with a whine and silence again. Maybe you should’ve riden him instead…

A/n; saw some fan art of him and now he won’t leave my mind🛌 also, thinking of writing hockey player!suguru, can’t get the image of him skating with his long hair flowing behind him he’s so fucking fine.

'The Love Shack' Series Masterlist

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22) Series status: Complete

Story Summary: You’d heard the whispered speculations and stifled giggles during the daytimes. You’d seen the furtive glances that the other women cast at Neteyam and Lo’ak through coquettish eyes, cheeks stained a blushing mauve as they exchanged coy smiles with the two brothers. And during the nights? Hell, you’d heard the moans and wanton cries for yourself… You were definitely curious, but did you have it in you to go through with their proposition?... Note: No use of 'Y/N'. Your name/reader's name in this is Neyomi.

Content: SMUT 18+ MDNI, Mentions of group sex, MMF threesome, sex toy play, squirting, anal sex.

Part I - The Proposition Part II - Three Is A Perfect Crowd Part III - Blurring Lines Part IV - Haunted By You Part V - The Fault Is Ours Epilogue Drabble - Silwey's Reaction

Author's Note: A complete series means it earns its own series masterlist. 🥰THANK YOU to all of you who showed this series so much love! I enjoyed all your comments, and I'm eternally grateful for all your likes & reblogs. Neteyam & Neyomi's journey is another special addition in the library of my heart. 😘 For those who are new to this series - Hang on to your panties (or not) and enjoy this sexy, emotional rollercoaster. I hope you love it as much as others have. 💜💜💜

this writer has made me a literal hoe for this man i- I cant

tags: fem! reader, breeding, unprotected sex, semi public sex (no one is around), creampie

notes: pls tags work :,)

“wha—satoru, why’d you just warp us in the middle of—” you’re cut off by the cold press of the wall against your back as gojo’s lips firmly push against yours, messy and desperate and so damn needy—and if your eyes hadn’t fluttered shut in response to his lips on yours, they might’ve widened in shock. 

it’s just a little astonishing, just a tad bit unexpected that the man who’s quite literally the strongest is as riled up as he is. and it’s all for you, the way his hands quiver as they trail down your sides and settle on your hips, the way he kisses so sloppy and doesn’t seem to care it’s a clash of tongue and teeth—it’s all because of you. he squeezes your hips, hard, just to ground himself as his breath turns ragged while his lips all but devour yours.

“it’s fine,” he mumbles, “it’s fine, they’ll be fine—fuck, i’ll be quick i promise baby. it’ll be so, so quick,” he groans, and you can feel the strain of his erection through his pants, poking at you as his hands wander past your waist to your ass, squeezing while his tongue glides over your lips before exploring your mouth. his cock is pulsing, hot against you even as the fabric of your clothes separates you from him. 

and as your hands instantly make their way to his hair—like second nature, because really, you could never resist gojo—you have to wonder what could’ve possibly made him so impatiently needy? one second you’re laughing with yuji, ruffling his hair, and the next you’re pressed against a brick wall in the middle of god knows where. and gojo’s big—incredibly so—and he cages you with those broad shoulders of his, towering over you with that annoyingly tall figure, feeling you up and groping your tits with those large hands.

honestly, gojo doesn’t even know where it came from, or why it hit him so suddenly. maybe it’s because you’re so good to yuji, because you guide him so gently with a smile that’s warm. or maybe, it’s because gojo’s still been secretly replaying that image of you waving to that toddler on the streets the other day. perhaps it’s because you’re just so nurturing and so fucking sweet—or maybe…maybe it’s because he thinks he finally has a shot at a perfect little family for once. one to come home to and let a genuine smile take on his face, one that awaits his arrival and wishes him to come back safe, one that’s his and only his. 

and maybe, the idea of you cooing at an infant as you bounce them gently isn’t too bad of an image either—that coupled with the idea of your breasts swelling isn’t too bad, he supposes. 

“but satoru, we’re in the middle of teaching, w-we can’t—”

“won’t take long,” he promises, voice breathless with borderline begging laced in his tone, and gojo satoru has never begged you before. it makes your head spin, makes your knees buckle and your core ache—even if he’s not even verbally said the words. but then he does, and you just don’t know how you’re supposed to say no. “please, please, please. won’t take long. just need to fuck you, just once…just need to fill you up,” he’s rambling, and there’s not a trace of that usual smugness in his words. 

no, this time, all that’s left is a gojo that whines into your mouth, ruts his hips into your fist when you cave and reach and palm his stiff length, reaching past his waistband so your thumb glides through his slit and smears the pre cum around his fat tip. he moans, and it’s so pretty and loud and drawn out—and you just can’t fight the rational part of you any longer. 

“j-just once—you gotta be quick, kay toru? can’t take long,” you warn, and it’s all he needs, all that has to be said for him to push his pants down his legs and pull yours down too—and he fumbles. his hands shake and he’s clumsy as he guides his thick length to slide up and down your folds and collect your slick before he pushes past your entrance.

he chokes, lets out a guttural groan that melts into the skin of your neck as his face buries into the crook of it, skin slapping against yours as he thrusts in and out at a sloppy pace. 

“‘m gonna be q-quick, so quick. fuck—need you so bad, sweetheart. need to see you round with my baby so bad,” he babbles into your neck, cock hammering into you and making your head spin that you almost miss the words. you whimper as his thumb toys with your clit, let out noises so sweet, he craves their taste on his tongue as his mouth is back on yours, drinking in your high-pitched moans. “you look so pretty, yeah? gonna give my p-pretty girl a pretty little baby,” he grunts. 

you clamp down on him at those words, and it hurdles him further into losing all composure, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist so he can sink in deeper, go further, fuck you just that much fuller. he hears you plead, hears your voice break as it begs him to go faster, and then it’s all a blur as he bullies into your weeping pussy as his swollen tip kisses your spot over and over and over again in perfect precision, making you both choke on moans. 

“t-toru,” you gasp, “toru, fuck.”

“‘m close, baby. so close, ‘m g-gonna cum. gonna give you all my cum, gonna fill you up. you’ll look so pretty carrying my baby,” he rasps, and as if his own words hit him like a ton of bricks, he shudders as he groans deeper than you’ve ever heard him. “my baby,” he growls, “f-fuck, you’re gonna have my fuckin’ baby.” 

“wan’ your baby,” you plead, “wan’ it so bad, toru, please,” you cry, tears prickling at your lash line as his thumb rubs circles into your clit while he ruts into your warm walls desperately. your hips push to meet his thrusts, and gojo watches as your jaw slacks with moans that rip from your pretty little lips with each slam of his hips. “c-close, ‘m gonna cum, toru,” you whimper. 

“go ahead, baby,” he encourages, pressing a sweet kiss to your jaw as his hips don’t stutter from their brutal pace, “cum as many times as you need to. gonna carry my baby for me, ‘s the least i can do.” 

you cum with a whine at his words, eyes screwing shut as you grasp at his shirt with a clawed grip, and gojo follows not long after. thick, hot spurts of cum paint your walls white, and his hips cant to fuck his load into you as deep as it’ll go, a choked string of curses falling from his swollen lips as you milk him of every drop. 

“toru!”

“th-that’s it, angel,” he groans, “shit—squeezin’ me so tight, pretty pussy jus’ can’t wait, huh?”

he rides you both through your highs, lets you slump against his chest as you both pant harshly, cum dripping down your thighs as he pulls out. his stares at the sight, at the mess between your legs, at the mess he made—and then he frowns. it’s downright wasteful to let his cum leak, and his cock is still stiff, still just as hard and aching to fill you to the brim as before, so he sinks back in even as you whine, even as your legs quiver and your eyes widen. 

“one more, baby, please. jus’ one more—just to be sure, kay? won’t take long, i promise. one more ‘s all i need,” he slurs, and he doesn’t even give you a chance to fully wrap your arms around his neck before he lifts your legs to latch onto his hips and hoist you up, lips back on yours in another heated kiss. 

“jus’ one more, toru,” you agree when you pull away—and how could you not give in when he asked so sweetly? and truth be told, you’re not entirely sure if you’ll be able to say no if he asks one more time after this, or another time after that, or just one more time after that. 

based on this:

⑅ ۫ . ෆ ˟ ໒꒱ DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME?

al haitham x f!reader ౨ৎ . . . 17+ only ໒꒱ ⋆˚✩. fluff! fluffy fluffy mega fluff :3 / sensitive eared al haitham snifl ;;n;; he's so kwuit / maybe ooc al haitham? / suggestive undertones / al haitham calls reader a "minx" at one point ‹𝟹

al haitham doesn't have his earpiece on the first time you fall asleep on his shoulder. it's in the comfort of his own home, it's a good day and there's a good book in his lap and his good friend is sitting next to him— he has no reason to keep it on.

it doesn't catch him off guard when he feels the familiarity of your weight on his shoulder and the warmth of your body as it falls slack against his own, something he's felt countless times no thanks to your several clumsy trips and slips here and there. he looks down at you to find you asleep, and he's almost tempted to maneuver you into laying on the couch and throwing a blanket at your face to avoid all the whining you'll be doing about your neck aching after you wake up.

"tired, are we? it's only noon..."

but his gaze softens as he continues observing you— the sweet innocence gracing your face and the slight part of your lips as you begin to quietly snore— and he can't seem to find it in himself to remove you from him. and he sighs a defeated sigh, because al haitham is quick to come to the conclusion that he enjoys having you lay on him like this, that he likes how adorable you look when you aren't yapping your mouth at him. and he decides he can be selfish for now, damn the little neck ache you'll feel from straining it like this.

he lets you rest on his shoulder silently while he continues to read his book, but it's not long after when you begin to whimper incoherently in your sleep, brows furrowed and your arms wrapping around one of his own. he watches, patiently and curiously as you snuggle into his chest, nuzzling your face against his neck in search of more comfort.

"oh? this is new." he grins and muses to no one but himself, a brow cocked up as he continues to watch you with interest, trying to decipher whatever it is that you're mumbling.

and then he hears it— tiny, repeated whines of his name spilling from your lips without a filter— 'haitham... 'haitham, like you... like you s'much... you breathe blissfully against the shell of his ear and al haitham swears his heart skips a beat.

huh. it's never done that before.

and so he purses his lips, grinding his molars in an attempt to swallow the perturbed grunt that bubbles in his throat as your nose continues to graze along his ear, softly smoothing along the cartilage. the book lays long forgotten on his lap as his hands ball into white-knuckled fists, spine lit ablaze with tingles that rush through his nerves at every breath, whisper, touch you lay over his ear.

there's no denying his ears are incredibly sensitive to both sound and touch, the latter always causing him to react in more... salacious ways.

and even with all the self-discipline and resolve al haitham has built up over the years, he is still a human by nature, and he begins to find it immensely difficult to keep his blood from flowing south. his pants seem tighter all of a sudden and his crotch begins to ache and oh, the feel of your skin against his makes him feel like he's being scorched alive.

"you little minx." al haitham whispers cooly and matter-of-factly, the neutral expression on his face a stark contrast to the flames that grow blue in the pit of his heart.

but his choice of wording is absolutely incorrect, he knows this, because you, never the wiser, are about the furthest thing from a minx. there's nothing cunning or impudent about your current actions, but god— it feels like you're reaching straight into his chest, tugging at his heartstrings and carving your name into the organ, because all he can think, feel is you, you, you.

"if you're trying to get me wrapped around your finger..." he stops to sigh, shaking his head with a defeated smile. and the more he looks at you, the more he's tempted to flick your forehead, poke it with his finger until you wake up and discover your body curled up against his; just to see you embarrassed and quiet and avoidant of his gaze. but, no— instead, he leans into your forehead, lips barely grazing over the skin just as your lips did his ear, before pulling back, deciding that perhaps this, a teasing conversation and a forehead kiss would be best saved for when you're awake. "you're doing an excellent job of it."

from coco ๑‧₊˚ ෆ he is my littl honeyboy ! i kiskiskiskis so soft .... yeah . hav dis littl thing i thought up after his teaser video yesterday >0< hope ya like it , even if its only a bit ! comments + reblogs + feedback of any kind ! r supa ! dupa appreciated !! thankies a billi for reading ໒꒰ྀི∩´͈ ᐜ `͈∩꒱ྀིა

menthol | hayakawa aki

— SERIES MASTERLIST.

PAIRING.  aki x bff fem!reader

LENGTH.  46.7k words  |  coauthor @akitachi

PLAYLIST.  nightdrive + sesh

SYNOPSIS.  after a string of casual dating mishaps leaves you unsatisfied, you find that the grass is greener in the front seat of your best friend’s car.

GENRE.  best friends to lovers, mutual pining bordering mutual obsession (they are down horrendous), catching feelings/getting together, not canon compliant: modern/no-devil/post-college!au

SERIES WARNINGS.  heavy adult content. this series is not suitable for minors. refer to all individual chapter warnings.

CHAPTER INDEX

join the series taglist to be notified when the series is complete  series completed 13/11/22 <3

01 | genesis (5.5k words)

SUMMARY.  stood up by your date at the last minute, you end up on a long, aimless drive with your best friend instead.

02 | elements (11.7k words)

SUMMARY.  smoking at midnight beside the lake, with the heavy rains of a summertime thunderstorm pelting the windows of aki’s car, he ruminates over the past, and you grasp at the future.

03 | blue dream (29.5k words)

SUMMARY.  reciprocated feelings come to a sudden head in a dizzying haze of frustration and desire.

view asks / discussion relating to this series here [ contains spoilers ]

can we.. can we talk about how good and beautifully written this is???

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝

genre: smut, fluff

pairing: artist!hyunjin x fem!artist!reader

wc: 5.9k

warnings: LOTS of tension, piv /unprotected sex and cumming inside, otherwise hella soft and lovely :3

Your footsteps halled through the emptied rooms of the University building you were so used to walking by, so familiar with. Every painting and sculpture – fragile sculptures, that you passed by oh so carefully, not daring to damage them in any way – were as though engraved in your mind, the gentle strokes and lines of colour placed so delicately onto every work, and you knew them all by heart. A smile crossed your lips any time you walked past the halls of the school you were privileged enough to visit, each and every piece of art representing the student’s talents precisely, students and classmates you’ve visited courses with, all different yet connected by one simplicity; the love to create, the wish to pursue an artist’s career.

Right before entering the room you aimed for, you passed one of your very own sculptures presented in the hallways of your art school, something you’ve created for the very first exhibition you were allowed to participate in, the memories of the day flooding your mind any time the art piece met your eyes. Admittedly, not with exceptionally good memories, the pressure and limited time and the judging eyes of teachers and professors wouldn’t let you sleep for days on end. But maybe it was for a good cause, because now that you were at the brick of graduating, experiencing the same old pressure and limited time and having to bear the judging faces or teachers and professors – you were used to it already, didn’t find it all that bad altogether.

Though, of course, the nearly unmanageable amount of work you had to put into your last project, into the sculpture that would decide your by far most important grade was overwhelming, caused you to spend night and day in the studio, the bags under your eyes a constant accompany lately.

You’ve made your way to your assigned seat in the classroom, your half-finished sculpture standing beside the table, wrapped in moist foil to keep the fictile in a shape you could still craft on, even after days of no usage. It was mostly dark around you, the room long fallen into a slumber it seemed, the only source of light the faint rays of the downing sun and desk lights that students forgot to turn off after a day of work. The professors hated that, scolded each and every one the next day at how much electricity that’d cost the school, so whenever you stayed overtime you made an effort to cut off any light source you didn’t need beforehand, simply to not get an earful the next morning.

It hasn’t even crossed your mind that another person could possibly still work that hour, as it was long after closing time already and you’ve always been the last one seen walking the school halls lately. But a couple seats behind yours you could make out a figure, could see eyes looking back at your fearful ones and you took a step back, until the darkened figure got up from its place and started to speak, suddenly, much to your displeasure as fear ran through your veins.

“Oh god, I’m uh- sorry for scaring you, I didn’t know someone else would come here--”

You recognized the tone as a hast one, words speaking a quick reassurance and you noticed you knew the voice, a male voice that you surely were familiar with but not enough to grasp it yet. Your muscles relaxed nevertheless after the wave of shock has washed over you, seeing it was simply another student that decided to voluntarily work additional hours just like you, maybe graduating as well, or just an overachiever.

You chuckled quietly, already finding amusement at just how scared you were moments back, and you were quick to mumble something back to the supposedly classmate that was standing afar from you – you were yet unable to see his face, the dark shadowing out most details in the room.

“Ah no, it’s alright. I just didn’t know…”

Your voice drifted off when the male finally stepped into the dim light of the classroom, revealing his persona, which – you couldn’t lie – made you gasp slightly. It was no other than Hwang Hyunjin, another graduate, not in your class though. You only knew him from friends, and friends of friends, having talked to him only a couple of times, those conversations stored in your memory as nice ones. He was smart and funny, a calm guy who didn’t seem to like the crowds much, always seen by himself or with a small group of friends only. He was undeniably pretty, and you’ve heard hardworking too, and those two qualities alone made him by far the most popular guy in school, making everyone fancy the boy secretly, or so painfully obvious that you’ve sometimes felt bad for him. You weren’t one to deny his attractiveness, nevertheless you have never developed a crush on the student like most others, figuring it must be his popularity that icked you off in a way. Or maybe it was an unintentional voluntarily thing, maybe there were butterflies after all that you wanted to deny, simply to not be one of many who wanted him.

You saw Hyunjin’s face form into a small smile after he recognized you, though his brows were slightly furrowed in confusion, given your unfinished sentence.

“Oh my god, it’s you, you uh- you scared me, I didn’t really think that anyone would like- be here either, yeah.”

You chuckled again as you fought the urge to scrunch up your nose in embarrassment. You wouldn’t particularly call yourself a social butterfly, and though you’ve talked to the boy more than one time already you had to admit that neither of those times you were fully sober, alcohol making most of the conversation as the majority of things you talked about were uni things and professors. You remembered meeting at a get together of first semester students for the first time, and then occasionally afterwards when friends and classmates decided to go out for a drink or two. So yes, right now you were at a loss for words, unsure of how to talk with him, what to talk about.

And if you thought about it, your slight social awkwardness wasn’t the only thing that made you as nervous as you were, that made your palms sweat just the slightest bit, almost unnoticeably. It was Hyunjin’s somewhat strong presence, if you could call it that, a kind of aura that always seemed to circulate him wherever he went, making everyone passing him turn their heads at him. It wasn’t intimidating, nor felt it intentional from his side. It was just there, making him nearly desirable in every sense of the word.  

Hyunjin cocked his head, gave you a smile like two acquaintances, mere strangers would give each other, and it was contagious, made you smile back at him.

“Yeah, I’m graduating and I’m- far not done yet… this was the only room open.”

You were aware, on your request you were allowed to use the atelier by night as long as you closed it after and handed over the keys to the professors first thing in the morning, and since that has never went wrong you were trusted by both your teachers and the janitor who was supposed to close all doors by 8pm. For out standers it seemed like special treatment, some students eyeing you whenever you stayed longer to keep working – at the end of the day it was your own decision though, and except Hyunjin you’ve never seen other students stay voluntarily, so if everyone else will lack behind while you’ll have your project ready and done it surely would be their fault, you figured.

After his comment you were unsure as to how you should continue the conversation, so you nodded at him, gave him a smile which you hoped looked like a genuine one and made your way to your seat. Should you restrict on using your headphones for tonight, to not seem rude while the boy was sitting behind, painting away as he did? Or would he start listening to music too, allowing you to dedicate your whole concentration on your sculpture as you so often did, without having the distraction of having to talk to him? Which would sound rude if you spoke it out, but you’d rather finish off early than holding small talk which surely would turn awkward anyways.

But the man started speaking, when he was halfway back at his desk again, leaving you with no option than to converse with him – which again, you had no problem with, you simply feared for the conversation to die out into something embarrassing that both of you had to bear with for the rest of the night while you were working away.

“Oh, this is your sculpture? It caught my eye when I walked in, it- stands out. It’s pretty.”

Hyunjin had a shy undertone in his words, which didn’t make his compliment sound any less genuine, though. He inspected your work, and suddenly you felt nervous, flustered. It wasn’t the first positive comment you’ve received from classmates and friends, yet this particular one, from Hyunjin, felt different. More personal. Which admittedly was ironic, given you barely knew the man.

“Ah, thank you so much. I- uh- I tried.”

You chuckled, and Hyunjin fell into a small fist of giggles as well, your answer more sarcastic than he expected. And though you feared it, the night proceeded with comfortable small talk you and him shared. It wasn’t a serious chat, filled with jokes and laughs, Hyunjin being as funny and witty as you remembered him to be, and talking to him was easy. It felt like you were close friends, almost, teasing at each other from time to time when the other grunted out in frustration about an accidental mistake, trying to fix it while the other merely chuckled at the attempts.

After a while of comfortable silence – you figured that two hours must have passed already, surprised at how fast the time flew while spending it with Hyunjin – the man several seats behind you sighed out in what sounded like frustration, tsking and clicking his tongue frequently while the sound of eraser on canvas filled your ears. Another mistake, you thought, though you decided not to tease this time. It was late, and given that he was a graduate as well, every wrong brush and line of his must be stressing him out to exhaustion – since you didn’t feel any different.

“Hey, you good over there?”

At the sound of your words, intended to help, Hyunjin’s eyes found yours and he chuckled in a somewhat defeated manner before looking back at his piece, eyeing it critically. You’ve realized you haven’t yet asked him what exactly he was working on, though you were of those people yourself who didn’t like others gawking and staring at an unfinished project, especially if it were experts in the same field. And maybe he was the same, so you stopped your curiosity to get the best of you with this one.

“Ugh, I’m not sure, I can’t like-- get the anatomy right on this one, I think.”

The man threw his head back in frustration, long, slender fingers – slightly chalk stained – running through his dark hair, pushing the longish strands out of his face. It bothered you, in a way it shouldn’t be bothering you, your eyes fixed on his hands before you came back to your senses again, quickly, giving your head a slight shake to get rid of the shiver that deemed to run down your spine, for less than a second only, yet you still noticed.  

“Uh- can I- can I see what you’re making? Maybe I can help out…?”

Your words were hesitant in a way; though you had to admit that anatomy was essential in what you were doing, and you’d claim that sculpturing years and years on end has taught you to have a decent understanding of it, so maybe he could use your eye after all. And the look Hyunjin gave you only confirmed your suspicion, his eyes almost pleading, already laced with thankfulness as he nodded at you, another sigh leaving his plump lips – you shouldn’t have noticed how puffy they were, how reddened pink his mouth contrasted against his pale skin, yet you did, especially now that you didn’t have a choice but step closer to him. 

You tried concentrating on the painting ahead though, which – now that you were directly looking at it, inspecting his work – you could barely take your eyes off it. You knew that whatever he’s been drawing for the past hours you’ve spent together in the atelier must have been nothing but good, yet it overthrew all your expectations; the canvas was huge, which was the first admirable factor you couldn’t possibly overlook, and on it a clearly unfinished though carefully planned out drawing that left you nothing but speechless in its gracefulness – it was only a sketch, yet Hyunjins talent was surely undeniable after only a peek at it. The pencil drawing showed an abstract image of a nude body, unidentifying lines and strokes all around it; you figured those would make more sense the moment Hyunjin would add some color. Parts of the body were left out in the sketch, haven’t been added on yet, and those precisely must be the spots Hyunjin struggled with. Understandably so, the position he chose to draw the woman in a tricky one, surprised he hasn’t been using a reference tonight in the first place, a model, or a picture at least.

“See, the feet right here don’t seem right. I didn’t think it would be too hard, I drew the majority of this with a model anyways, thought finishing this off on my own would be easier than it is.”

So, he did have a model after all, it made sense. Hyunjin cocked his head at his work, showing towards the part he explained to struggle with so you could get a better look at it. He let out another sound of frustration, hands propped up on his thighs as he leaned forward, and back, getting a look at the canvas from different positions. His shoulder blades moved visibly at that, pried up underneath his white shirt, and your eyes have forgotten the painting by now. The muscles in Hyunjin’s arms flexed and relaxed with every other movement he decided to make, and at this point your thoughts went a place elsewhere, too.

“You know, I modelled for references for a bit in my second semester. I could help you-- that way.”

Hyunjin’s head snapped at you, eyes opened in surprise and his ears a bright red; you knew you weren’t off any better. You weren’t quite sure where those words came from, suddenly, unexpectedly, and while you wished that he maybe overheard them; you everything but regretted it. You were embarrassed, shy now that you locked eyes with him, but the anticipation tingled in your fingertips as you expected his answer.

“I mean- if you want. If you’re uh- okay with it; the model is supposed to be- you know- naked.”

In a way, you two were acting bold, increasing the tension in the room to an extent that was soon impossible to let slide. Yet, the shyness and hesitation was nevertheless hard to overhear in Hyunjins words, blush now creeping around his neck and cheeks too – still, he didn’t break the eye contact, held his gaze locked with yours, and you decided to do the same, humming at him in response, giving him your wordless approval. And in that moment neither of you could merely predict what the next minutes would bring, how both of you would handle the ever-rising heat in the atelier, how your relationship would continue after this – would you be smiling at each other in the hallway, or simply look away in an embarrassed manner, shy to even lock eyes with the other in memories to this day?

You both walked over to the small area of sofas and chairs and couches that were scattered in a corner, your movements stiff and fearful almost, yet none of you backed off. Hyunjin brought his canvas alongside, placing it in front of a longish sofa, supposedly the one you’d be laying on, modeling on. The old, rough material of the cushions made you shiver, already thinking about your naked body touching where generations of students have been sitting, eating and drinking on. It shuddered you thinking of it.

And you weren’t sure if Hyunjin perhaps caught a glimpse of your expression, maybe saw how you were eyeing the sofa covered in mysterious dark spots; but the man walked back to where he was seated before, to the back of the classroom, and coming back he had his jacket in his hands, one that was surely too big on you, one that he currently laid onto the sofa carefully before giving you an unsure look.

“Uh, you can lay on that. That thing looks disgusting.”

Hyunjin gave you a chuckle, nervous, but it brightened the tensed atmosphere in the room even if slightly. A sound similar to a chuckle left your lips, and you mustered the creased up jacket he prepared, your stomach turning as you stepped closer to your seat. Hyunjin was doing everything possible to not look at you, it seemed, running around to turn on lights and get his canvas in the right position, or pick up different pencils and erasers that were laying by his desk; all the while he made no eye contact, purposefully avoiding it, and you took it as a sign to get ready yourself; to undress, if you will.

And oh, was it bizarre, the situation as a whole. When you thought about it, you must have gone crazy, the upcoming so strange to your usual behavior, so much bolder than your normally laid back persona. What the hell were you doing, and why? There was no reason to help a colleague, a mere stranger to the extent of undressing before him – though, for a reason you were unable to explain yourself, you felt the pit of your stomach flutter in what must be anticipation, a sign you’ve surely nothing but went crazy.

Your fingertips found the hem of your shirt, and you slid out of it with ease, letting it fall to the ground beneath you. You didn’t dare to even turn around, to peek a glance at Hyunjin, embarrassment coloring your ears already, your face heating up into an impossible the moment your pants and underwear joined the pile of clothing, too, after a while. You were naked, to the bone, and your body felt as though in trance – you were barely able to make your way to the godforsaken sofa, your feet carrying you towards it almost hesitantly, though wanting, needing.

After ages, it felt like, you dared to turn your body, dared to sit down by the corner – bum touching Hyunjins jacket, and you weren’t sure if that’s what he meant when he said you could lay on it. The man in question has not ended his scurrying around, still, his figure making its way through the atelier in what felt like an attempt to spare time, to prolong what both of you couldn’t believe would happen sooner or later.

“Hyunjin-“

Finally, the man stopped in his tracks, finally dared to convert his eyes onto you, your figure; your body. And you'd lie saying it left you cold when you saw his mouth falling agape slightly, when his eyes encountered you, before he sealed his lips again quickly, embarrassed, as if he came back to his senses. You took notice on the way his eyes wandered across your curves for what seemed like a millisecond only, as though not allowing himself to stare, to admire, before he looked back at your face, locking eyes again - and you'd claim to have seen a sort of excitement in them, anticipation maybe - or perhaps it was desire, the thing that's been circulating your mind as well, the very emotion, the very lust that has infiltrated your mind and body long ago, barely allowed you to think straight.

"How- do you want me?"

Hyunjin almost visibly gulped at the question, eyes fluttering in fast blinking as though he awoke off a trance, his body following movements that seemed unnatural, too stiff, too nervous. You didn't intend to make your question sound the way it did, but maybe it wasn't quite you talking, after all, not when Hyunjin looked at you the way he did. He made his way over to the chair, behind his canvas, giving your body a glance that caused you nothing but to shudder. He had an intensity in his presence that you were used to already, hence why all and everyone would swoon over the boy the moment they laid eyes on him. His gaze though, however, was too much, too intimate for you to handle, the depth in his eyes so much more than you could stand out. Your every fibre in you wanted to hide, to lay your hands above your body and cover up, simply to escape the proceeding look of his, a slow inspection he tortured you with. It wasn't to make you feel watched, wasn't to make you insecure - you knew he needed a good look of you to perfect his work, yet it was nothing but mind wrecking, given that he himself was fully dressed.

"Can you lay down? On-- your side, please, and-- cross your legs so your uh-. So you can't see... you know..."

Red color shot onto your face at the sound of Hyunjins stuttering, knowing very well what he must be referring to, his hands motioning to his crotch area vastly, his own ears burning. You took his instructions, hopefully the way he needed it, laying down and crossing your legs, trying to get somewhat comfortable, as much as it was possible. The silk-like underside of the jacket he’s given you was soft against your skin, the reminder that your body laid on it making your palms cover in a film of sweat. And you thought that Hyunjin must have noticed too, how his piece of cloth scrunched up under you, beneath your weight, the way it came in contact with your body, with every bit of it, and it took him longer than usual to get back his composure, it seemed.

A nod from him told you he was happy, roughly, precisely, but not quite yet, not fully. He showed you how to position your hands, your arms, corrected you in the position you laid in, found new imperfections with every closer look he'd take, it seemed.

Not imperfections he made out on you, though – in his eyes, even if you couldn’t possibly see this, you were the perfect model, the most beautiful reference he could wish for. It wasn’t necessarily the fact that you laid naked before him, though your body surely was nothing but distracting, the accent of your chest perking up before the curve to your waist lined the shape of your upper body, rounded hips protruding with the position you laid in. It was hard for him to not lose focus on the flesh of your thighs, how your legs pressed together when you took his instructions, how you obediently stayed in place for him, waiting for his further word. It wasn’t all that, not entirely. It was the look you gave him, as if you wanted this for more than one reason, as if you had another motive up your sleeve other than simply helping him. And your piercing gaze was nothing but screwing with his head, god, his mind would not stop circulating around you.

By the time Hyunjin has started with his work – it has taken both of you long enough to finally figure out the ending pose, with how worked up you felt, how stuffed the air suddenly got, how hot you were – and it was nothing but sensual. The way Hyunjin looked at you, so concentrated to capture your every curve and movement on his canvas, trying to get your body as realistic as possible, as possibly beautiful as you were in his eyes. It wasn’t supposed to feel this way, sensual and intimate as it was; it was a simple task, between art graduates that knew each other merely and lent a hand to the other, nothing more or less. But the tension in the atelier could have been cut through with a knife, if possible, with the way Hyunjin didn’t once dare to forget to lock eyes with you after inspecting your body, and before going back to his sketch. His eyes would find yours always, even if for a second, so quickly you’d miss it if your own gaze wasn’t locked on him too. And you couldn’t find a reasonable explanation for this, didn’t understand how looking for eye contact, and finding it for a fleeing moment, would help him get this done any better, faster. Only if his reasonings were the same as yours, after all, if the turmoil in his own mind and body was as nerve wrecking as yours – lust and needing growing rapidly, with every pencil stroke the man made.

“Just like that, you’re uh- you’re doing really well.”

Hyunjin gave you a smile, sweet and somehow inviting, comforting. Yet his words sent chaos through your brain, your face surely painting a darker color as you blushed, unable to contain the shy smile that crept up your lips. God, he was attractive as he sat there, hands carefully moving his pencil across the whitened canvas, erasing mistakes here and there after inspecting your body intensely once more.

“But…”

Hyunjin hesitated suddenly, his brows furrowed at you, eyes going back between your body and the progress he’s made. Something was off, maybe your position wasn’t quite right anymore, given you’ve laid stiffly for several minutes by now. He got up from his seat, walking over to you. Coming closer, with every slow step he took, your eyes following up the lines of his figure until you were met with his face, the moment he scrunched down to be levelled up with you. Your breath hitched in your throat, the man so close to you suddenly you could nearly feel the heat his body radiated, against the sensitivity of your naked skin.

“Uh- can I just-…”

It seemed like he asked for approval, to touch you, maybe, to correct the perspective. You gave him a nod, a silent agreement, his hands proceeding to wander to the mess of your hair, before you felt his fingers on your scalp. He most likely needed to fix the way it laid, the way it fell above your shoulder, as it could affect parts of his sketching progress; but you felt no ounce of professionalism this very moment, the very bit that was left when the two of you have started surely dissipating into nothingness at this point, slowly but surely. And you nothing but hoped that he felt the same, that maybe Hyunjin would look down at you, would lock eyes with you and maybe screw the project altogether, would allow himself to shortly let his focus go elsewhere – on you.

His hands were fiddling with your strands still, his dark orbs – shimmering slightly in the artificial light of the room – wandered south, to meet your eyes. There was a pause, filled with anticipation, with excitement about the unknowing, with the need to figure out what the other was thinking, if thoughts were shared. Both of you felt the same desire, the same urge to dive in, to lean into each other, yet both of you were too cowardly to act on it this instant. Only shared eye contact, trying to get behind the others mind, to see past whatever you wanted to call this.

Hyunjins eyes fluttered down to the outline of your lips, yours did the same. It was short, the staring contest proceeding as quickly as it got interrupted. Until Hyunjins mouth opened, as though to say something, catching the corner of your eye.

“Is that- alright…?”

Unsure to what exactly he was referring to, you simply nodded. He could mean anything, everything, and you’d be up for it. Now that his scent was infiltrating your mind with the way he hovered over you in an unstable manner, how the neverending touch of his consumed your mind and body – the want for him was stronger than before, stronger than when you first noticed him, than when you first started with this bizarreness of a situation. So whatever it was he meant, you were nothing but alright with it, wanted it.

And luckily for you, Hyunjin was far braver than you, took the initiate the both of you saw anyways. His lips found yours, in a quick moment, hastily, yet the feeling of relief shot through your body, as if the immense tension got finally cut through, as if the air in the atelier got clearer, momentarily. It was a slow kiss, a soft one, as everything Hyunjin seemed to do. The feeling of his puffed up lips felt cloudy against you, and you sighed out in content, in awaiting. You felt Hyunjins hands disconnecting from your hair, finally, finding touch with your body, hesitantly so. It was noticeable in his movements, he was clam and careful, approaching your figure mindfully. While your lips were moving against each other, in a way of getting to know, in a way of exploring, Hyunjins fingertips made sure to stay in place the further he made his way across your curves, as though waiting for a sign of disapproval – only if none was found he kept his travel going.

Your own hands soon had the urge to find contact with the man, too, his shoulders suddenly so inviting, his arms so steady around your figure and against the sofa that you let your fingers dance across them. You felt every dip of muscle on them, felt the bones in his shoulders when you reached them, felt how his back flexed and relaxed in different ways when you let your palms slide up and down. And Hyunjin sighed out at that, his breath hitching when your cold hands came to halt at his skin, by the hem of his shirt. You didn’t allow yourself to make moves he might cut off, so you’ve waited impatiently until he straightened up and tossed the tee over his head himself, the pile of clothes by the sofa adding up.

He was breathtaking like this. Built, but not too much, proportions as though planned out by a higher being. You wanted to sculpt him, wanted to use his body to create art.

Your lips managed to disconnect from his, task harder than it seemed, the kiss you’ve shared until now way rougher, more passionate. You let your mouth travel up and down his neck, giving kitten licks to Hyunjin’s jaw, before finding a spot to bite down at, only slightly, only enough to draw color. He whined at that, and you thought you’d never hear anything prettier, anything more addicting than this.

His hands found their way to your thighs, groping at the flesh, tickling the inner, more sensitive part of them. And it took him only a hum of you, one that sounded like approval, and his fingers were fluttering above your core, finding touch with it slowly, carefully. One finger up and down your slit before the next followed, and by now you couldn’t bear to continue the attack you’ve had on Hyunjins neck, your head now falling back into the harsh cushions, mouth agape lightly. Instead, it seemed like it was his turn now, his kiss bruised mouth finding the bit behind your ear, nibbling and grazing the skin so feathery you barely contained the sounds that sinfully wanted to make their way past your lips. Hyunjins fingertips danced against your clit now, not daring to apply excessive pressure, but teasing you enough to, after all, get to hear the whines and sighs you oh so wanted to quite out.

“Fuck, what are we doing.”

You thought the same thing Hyunjin spoke out, the situation yet not fully settled. Maybe it was the late hour, maybe it were your sleep deprived bodies, your overworked brains. Maybe it was all that, and the desire for each other – after all, it all well could have been nothing at all, and you’d still not complain. You loved this, everything about this, whatever it was, whatever you’d call it.

As an answer to Hyunjins question your hand wandered south, needy fingers teasing at his bulge, feeling painfully hard by now. Another whine passed his lips, his full brows scrunching together, his pleasure distorted face nothing but a sight to see. And thankfully he understood your hint, could read what your movements told him; he got rid of his pants in an instant, impatiently getting them off his body, and finally you were both left uncovered, bare and vulnerable for the other.

You’ve felt Hyunjin stretch you out slowly, and it was hesitant, the way your lips parted during, as if the only thing they’d ever need to do is stay connected. You’ve felt him fill you up, to the hilt, feeling every vein and nib against your walls, and he seemed to touch spots oh so deep within you.

The both of you sounded desperate, sounds of grunts and quiet moans filling the echoes of the atelier, while Hyunjin started to roll his hips against you. It was as if any and everything he did was meant to be agonizingly sensual, and soft, and loving. In the way he moved, in the way he created art, in the way he fucked. It felt so right to you, so infiltrating, you couldn’t get enough.

Hyunjins movements fastened, turned sloppier momentarily while the two of you never stopped sharing kisses, exchanging moans and breath, taking in each other fully. You weren’t in love, not knowingly, but this was all how it seemed. Your breathing started to hitch in your throat more frequently, and Hyunjins grunts seemed to grow louder, filling the room in beautiful sin while you chased after the high, together. Your hands not one left Hyunjins body, always touching, unable to disconnect from the feeling of his skin against you. And he was similar; his hands, much bigger than yours, having a grip on the inside of your thigh, while the other explored elsewhere, your chest, or neck, or waist and hips. It was as if none of you wanted this to end, as if both of you wanted to hold the other to not let the moment pass, to not go back to what might turn into embarrassment.

You arched your back into the man, urging to cry out in pleasure, yet containing yourself to only let whines slip past your tongue. It was overwhelming, in every way possible, when you felt Hyunjin paint your insides in nothing but white, when the weight of his body met yours, when his hot breath hit your neck. None of you where this would end, where this would go after all this, but for that moment, for the time being, neither of you wasted a thought on it while you laid in each others arms, while you melted into each other and breathed the other in, while you shared one body, like two lovers, almost, perhaps.

tagging: @lotus-dly @hyunjinoir @aeminju @n-bokhari @che3tobre4th @etherealeeknow @linoskitty @unexceptional-h @rseanne @diue @es-kay-zee @urcracksisx @jeyelleohe @yunkiwii @meloohmel @nyrasneedy @seochhj @spidercomics @chans-starlight @angelwonie

LITERAL WORK PF ARTTJ OMLSSSOSNS

On the complexities of relationships and words

Summary: For two people that love to read, words seem like a complex. 

Word Count: 13k (yeah… this is slow burn, might want to get a drink and snack)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Slow Burn, Smut, NSFW, Fluff, Angst kind heavy?, Modern AU, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, slow fic, marriage, arranged pairing, dubcon, themes about not liking yourself, TW: gender dysphoria (you don’t like your secondary gender), TW: Very vague and brief mentions to possible past domestic trauma, Jealous!alhaitham, slight yandere!alhaitham, mutual pining, miscommunication, breeding, biting, ruts, Alpha!alhaitham, Beta!reader. You agreed to the pairing due to tax benefits. A lot of references to literature. 

Authors note: This is my first attempt at slow burn and yeah… I got carried away. I want to explore how slow alhaitham would open up and how love can come from the mind instead of the heart. Enjoy.

Side Note: here is a little dabble 

Keep reading

—𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐫

✦ pairing: al-haitham x reader

✦ warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact

✦ w/c: 3.2k

✦ disclaimer: afab!reader with no set pronouns, hate sex, heavy degradation, humiliation kink, rivals to lovers?, masturbation, blowjob,  fingering, dacryphilia, doggy-style, slight anal, facial, cock-warming, semi-public sex, library sex, all characters are 21+, unedited

✦ summary: seeing that you came in second for your class ranks yet again after getting the second-highest score on your last exam within the Haravatat Darshan, you decided to ask your enemy for help. after all, you'll do anything to win this war against him.

There was a thunderous roar of chatter inside the Akademiya as a class of scholars from Haravatat all gazed upon the door outlining the recent exam results from the last midterm exam. As some cheer, jumping in delight that they managed to pass others bit their lips, shivering in fear on their desperate next steps to not fail the required course.

You maneuvered through the crowd until you were able to see the post outlining the class' names. Your stomach churned, butterflies fluttering as you when through every line until you could identify your own. You were up to days meticulously studying and going over the material over and over again. You even brided those who managed to pass the test to confirm no curveballs would be given by the sages. You had successfully prepared and memorized the correct material.

But why was your name, just shy of the top score in second place? The smile on your lips faltered, jaw clenching instead realizing just who you lost to.

Alhaitham, the Akademiya’s beloved scribe known for his intellect, aloofness, and determination to learn whatever piques his interests.

“What? Are you so surprised that I got the top score yet again,” a voice whispered down. Your body shivered, hairs raised, as you turned your back to glare at the tall man. Even in his stoic features, something about the look in his eyes always made you feel like he was looking down on you. 

The butterflies that were once in your stomach seem to bubble and melt at the boiling lava beginning to take shape instead.

He only scoffed at your expression, his lips curving up to a small smirk. There was, that patronizing look again. You wanted nothing more than to loudly connect the palm of your hand to his cheek, but you couldn’t. You had lost once again, and your pride was beginning to not be able to take all the losses anymore.

“Instead of being enemies, why don’t you just give it up already? How many tests has it been since your ‘proclamation of war’? You have yet to win and defeat me, am I wrong,” he remarked. You balled your fists up nudging your shoulder, leaving him to shift so you could move past him.

“You’re such a jackass Alhaitham. It’s no secret that everyone in our class despises you,” you muttered, marching off. The silver-haired man did not respond, teal eyes watching your form disappear from his visage. His eyes narrow where you once stood before tutting, digging his hands into his pocket and leaving the crowd as well.

Why wasn’t he able to wring in his rapidly beating heart when you were just here? It didn’t make sense to the scribe. 

Night hung high in the sky, the moon’s rays illuminating from Alhaitham’s window. A rugged sigh left Alhaitham’s lips, glaring at the blank ceiling in his room. His eyebrows furrowed, gripping his bedsheets tightly still fazed from earlier seeing your angry expression at him.

He knew he didn’t understand people’s emotions that well. Being emotionally was something he prided himself on not being. As much as he felt this was one of his strengths, he had enough reasoning to recognize it as one of his weaknesses as well. For being an intellect, it was difficult for him to empathize and interpret emotions, especially when they aren’t derived from what he feels are logical motives.

It seemed like a fallacy how much his heart would thump erratically in his chest, cheeks threatening to turn flushed when you were in his presence. That fire in your eye and rude comments would just make it worst. He thought it was anger at first, but that doesn’t really fit all cases he interacts with you.

Alhaitham sighs again, lifting his arm up to cover his eyes, feeling his cock twitching to life. His eyes glowered at his pulsating length, his pink tip already budding with his precum; urging him to pay attention to it. He could only curse himself at his thoughts of you making him hard and pent up.

He tightly grabbed onto his length, sucking in a sharp breath and feeling the pleasure reverberate through him. He squeezed firmly causing a moan to leave his lips, slowly stroking down to see the tip of his cock fully exposed to him. A shaky sigh left his lips as he soon speed up hearing the echoes of skin slapping in his room.

Something has to be wrong with his Akasha terminal for him to be behaving in this manner, why else would he be fantasizing about his rival? Most people didn’t imagine a person they hated, begging and whining to take their cock in their mouth, struggling to fit it all in, looking up at him for approval. 

The throws his head back, pushing his thumb on his slit, feeling a knot in his stomach developing. His hips were meeting his pace, fucking into his jerking hand. 

He whispered your name before biting down harshly on his lip, face scrunching up as ropes of cum finally escape them staining his nude chest. He wiped the sweat on his brow, finally letting go of his softening cock before looking at the mirror next to him. 

He sneered, noting how disgusting he felt as globs of his thick cum slid on his chest and lower stomach. He looked like a man deprived, something he never thought he fall to.

Either his terminal was hacked or one of the knowledge capsules he recently used has begun rotting at his brain. 

That had to be the logical reasoning for this. The only explanation for why he craves someone he despises.

He needed to fix this quickly.

Hearing the scribes finally ending class, Alhaitham only sighed before furrowing his eyes seeing the Akasha Terminal beep. A message popped up in his visage, mouth slightly gaping in surprise seeing it was from you. 

“Meet me in the library. I’ll be in the 4th private study room. I need to talk to you. Don’t keep me waiting”.

The curves on his lips tugged up, perhaps he could get rid of his problem as quickly as he wanted. Still, he wasn’t sure what your own motivations were for reaching out to him. Could you be suffering from the same fate?

Alhaitham soon found where you were, closing the door and locking it before shutting the blinds down so no one could see. You sat in one of the chairs, arms crossed and glaring at him as he finally turned himself towards you.

“I know you must be curious about why I asked you to meet me,” you muttered before sighing. Your gaze drifted away, anger and pity swirling within your eyes.

“...Allies, just for today. Let me study with you,” you whispered. You closed your eyes clenching the tightly to not see what expression Alhaitham had on his face. You were sure he was tugging a rare smile on his face, overjoyed at the fact you had caved this far.

“...I’m sick of having my pride hurt because of you, losing time and time again. In Liyue, there’s a saying from a War General: ‘If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat.’ Studying with you will give me a chance to peer into your mind, hopefully giving me the next advantage for the upcoming test in a month.”

As you opened your eyes, you were slightly shocked to see Alhaitham had his usual stoic expression on, not one of condescension. 

“You missed the first part of that: “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.” If that is true, then what do I gain out of this as your adversary? I do not see this as a net win for me,” Alhaitham replied. You clicked your tongue, sighing for a second lifting your hand up to brush part of your hair.

“That’s why I’ve also wanted you to come here to negotiate. Now, what do you want that you see this as an equal transaction,” you grumbled. Alhaitham looked down briefly, thinking back to the period of lust that overtook him last night. This would be the best opportunity to address it.

“Look, I have suspensions that my Akasha Terminal is corrupted. I confess that I’m having lustful thoughts about you, something that doesn’t make sense as you irritate me to no end. The opposing feelings have even caused me to lose sleep, something that is even more annoying and could potentially hurt me in my studies.”

Your eyes widened, cheeks getting hot as you scowl at him.

“W-What?! I knew you were an asshole but I didn’t take you as a pervert! No one should admit to that kind of shit!” you barked. Alhaitham sighed, rubbing an impending headache threatening to form.

“I know. It’s unlike me. Based on most cultures and research I’ve done, people are supposed to admire their potential lover, not loathe them. So I just need to fuck you and get it out of my system, and I will go back to normal again,” he sighed. 

You remained quiet, the embarrassed expression still clearly written all over your face before biting your lips.

“...Fine. Whatever will get me on top of the class ranking and to see your face when I actually win.”

Alhaitham, eerily silent, walks over to you— using his foot to push the chair so you were now facing him. As you were about to open his mouth to berate him, you gasped feeling his large palms place themselves on the end of your Akademiya robes. He slowly pushed it up, revealing your underwear.

He scoffs, eyes flickering to your gaze before going back towards your underwear, noting the damp pool beginning to form on the cloth.

“You’re already this wet?” he stated before a small chuckle erupted from him. “If I didn’t know better, I think you get off, humiliating yourself by fucking the person you supposedly hate the most.” As your lips quivered, eyebrows furrowing and cheeks becoming hotter, you jabbed a finger at his forehead.

“Said the guy who ‘supposedly’ hates me, begging to fuck me. Look in the fucking mirror!” you seethed. Alhaitham simply rolled his eyes, grabbing onto the fabric of the underwear and pulling it down onto the floor. He didn’t understand why his mouth was watering, seeing your already drooling cunt squelch on just the idea of his cock inside of you.

Two long fingers dove themselves inside your cunt leaving a soft moan to escape your lips. His head rested on your plush thigh, watching your cunt completely devour his fingers as he continuously thrust them inside of you. As if hypnotized, the scribe pressed his calloused thumb onto your clit observing you jolt in pleasure. He’ll be sure to keep note of that.

“F-Fuck…just hurry up already,” you whined. Alhaitham tried to avoid rolling his eyes at your nagging, easily shutting you up as he curled his fingers inside of you, thumb pressing rough "circles on your throbbing clit. Seeing you throw your head back, it was easy to see how much you were losing yourself to pleasure, cunt tightening on his fingers massaging your insides so meticulously. 

His nails dug into the meat of your thigh that was threatening to close and squeeze his head as he lazily pressed kisses on the other thigh he was resting on. Your hands had wandered to your chest, eyes shut tight with his name on your tongue.

“F-Fuck. I’m gonna—” Feeling the pressure on your burning clit getting worse, you could feel tears develop in your eyes soon cascading down your cheeks feeling overwhelmed by the pleasure caused by his fingers.

“—H-Haitham!” you choked out, back arching as you finally reached your high. His lips tugged into a small smile, seeing your body shift and move as you rode out your climax. Slowly dipping his digits out—glistening with your arousal—he brought his thumb to wipe against a tear before opening his mouth and swirling his tongue to taste the sweetness of your slick as well as the saltiness of your tear.

“Heh. I think you look much better crying and whining and glaring and hurling insults at me,” he chuckled, causing you to narrow his eyes. Just as you were catching your breath, your eyes widened watching him tug his pants down, cock immediately popping up. He tried hiding the smirk on his face visibly watching you gulp. Your nervous hands grabbed onto your robe

He soon positioned you so your torso pressed up against the table, ass side in the air. He could see your juices drip down the sides of your thighs and onto the marble floor.

“Shit…” you whispered out. “L-Let’s just get it over with quickly. We still need to study. I only booked this room for 3 hours.” Alhaitham pressed the tip of his cock against your dripping folds, swiping it along your slit. You sucked a breath in and whined feeling him nudge it against your overstimulated and burning clit.

“That’s plenty of time. Besides, you’ll decide how long I take for this next part,” he replied. You quirked your eyebrow up, body shivering in pleasure as he continuously rubbed his tip along your folds, globs of your slick already coating the base of his length. It was hard not to cum just by the feelings of your soft folds against his cock. Still, he had to remain in control. He wanted to draw this out as long as possible.

But why? He’d try figuring that out later.

He towered over your body, leaning over to your ear. You could feel his hot breath on the shell of it.

“Beg for me,” he stated. You slammed your fists down.

“Excuse me?!” you shouted at him. You felt him blow hot air into your ear causing your body to tremble once more.

“You heard me, beg for me. Don’t act like I don’t see your hips shifting trying to encourage me to just fuck you already. I didn’t take you for a cock-thirsty slut,” he murmured. You slammed your fists down on the table again, shutting your eyes tightly and feeling your cheeks burn.

“I fucking hate you—” just as you were about to curse him out further, you felt his hips snap forward, cock burying itself inside of you causing you to gasp. You could feel him stretching you out, cock nestled in the deepest part of you.

“Fine,” he choked out, using his hand to grab onto your hand. He roughly rutted inside of you, fingers weaving with your own feeling the table shift with every thrust. His free hand grabbed onto the plush globe of your ass before smacking down on it, causing you to yelp. Feeling you squeeze and tighten against him was ecstasy, as he clenched his jaw to try to prevent himself from moaning your name repeatedly.

“I loathe you. I loathe you so much…but I loathe myself even more for wanting to be inside of you like this,” he choked out. He grunted once more ramming his cock deeper, dragging it along your gummy walls causing your back to arch.

“T-This was better than I could imagine.  Whoring yourself onto my cock for your studies. T-This was supposed to fix my contrary feelings but you made it worse,” he seethed. He grabs the globe of your ass again, watching his cock disappear inside of you repeatedly. He brings his thumb up against your other puckering hole, before pressing the tip of his thumb down inside of it causing you to moan and choke out at him.

“N-Not there! I-It’s embarrassing H-Haitham. F-Fuck!” you stammered out as your walls began to cave down onto his cock.

“Heh. My theory was right. You are into humiliation,” he mocked, causing you to whine again. His pace was brutal, the vibrations of his thrusts reverberating against the fat of your ass. You could feel his heavy balls striking themselves on your needy clit too.

“I hated the way you’d throw insults at me for just beating you at some stupid test, but archons I loved the determined look you always flash when you said you’d beat me. I loved our irritating game of cat and mouse.”

Alhaitham felt his stomach churn as it did before, cock pulsating and struggling to plunge inside of you from how much you had tightened. His pace had become much sloppier, still curved up to hit that favorable spot inside of you. With his eyes, glazed in lust, he noticed you were even meeting his pace.

“Haitham!” you cried out, as you once more reached your high. Alhaitham cursed under his breath swiftly leaving your folds. He didn’t want to cum inside of you yet. No, he wanted another opportunity for that, to witness your face so closely as he painted your insides with his cum.

He quickly guided you to his knees and rapidly jerked his cock in his hand. Your lips quivered, eyes focused on his haltering hips.

“F-Fuck (Y/N),” he choked out, cock twitching as globs of his cum spurted out and onto your face. You gasped once more feeling him press his softening cock across your cheek, smearing the cum all over as he caught his breath.

“So pretty for me…” he muttered, finally moving away. You scoffed again, wanting nothing more but to wipe your face off but yet, something about it made your cunt throb in delight. You tried fixing your hair and moving up before you felt Alhaitham wipe his cum with the fabric from his jacket.

“Now can you put up your end of the bargain? I don’t think we have much time left…” you whispered. You heard him chuckle. Something was cute about you avoiding his gaze now. Alhaitham placed a textbook on the table that the two of you just fucked before sitting down on the table. He swiftly grabbed your hips, having you hover against his half-soften cock before lining you up again and burying it inside you.

Hearing you whine, Alhaitham pressed his face to your nape feeling your body shiver against his.

“A-Again? God! You really are a pervert!” you stammered. He simply sighed, leaning up again. That irritation he had of you was creeping back up.

“Call me what you want. Reward and punishment system is said to have helped many students get the academic markings they want,” Alhaitham muttered, before leaning into your ear again. “You get it wrong, and I won’t fuck you the way you desperately want me to. Don’t act like you don’t enjoy my cock inside of you anymore.”

Your body jolted feeling him lazily thrust into you as a warning, as your hands grabbed onto the arm of the chair, closing your eyes. Your heart rapidly thumped in your chest, cheeks on fire once more.

“You are truly the worse,” you whined, shifting your hips as you felt his cock throb inside of you. He grunted.

“The feeling is mutual. Now, part one…what Fontainian author wrote this poem…”

im so close to dropping my dignity to hell oh my lord

a man who grips your hands like this

he’s so sensual with it