#Work from Home Efficiently

[moe-broey]

Man..

[j-esbian]

no but genuine question bc i’m still thinking about that post lmao. why do Music People have such a superiority complex

[solradguy]

I can speak any of the Romance languages just fine but for some god forsaken reason I CANNOT speak French like what the fuck is a bourgeoisie and why can’t I say it correctly for the life of me.

Yeah, French is pretty tricky... Figuring out what letters to pronounce is difficult and I can do the sounds for it in my head when I think I've figured it out (sort of) but my mouth lacks the flexibility to do them out loud haha

A long while ago I read Les Fleurs du Mal, and my copy is dual-language with the original French on the left page and an English translation on the right, and it drove me nuts that I didn't know how to read the sounds for the French so I read a crash course guide for it. It helped a lot once I realized that a good portion of the letters that aren't pronounced in a French word function similarly to an accented character in that it's there only to modify the sounds of the letters near it than to contribute in a major way to the overall sound of the word itself. My native Germanic language (English) brain really wants all of those letters to be doing something up-front instead rofl

Though, English also has its special words with sneaky little helper letters that aren't pronounced... ("sovereign...")

[madigoround]

💜

[sevenangrybees]

I think it's important to understand that the definition of "abled" and "disabled" in society and the arbitrary ranking of what makes a person "more or less disabled" is intrinsically linked to their ability to work and generate profit. What is and isn't a disability is so fucking blurry if you try and look at it through any other lens. The only thing that makes it a concrete dichotomy or hierarchy is how much labor the owning class can wring out of you before your body and mind are used up and destroyed.

[queer-crusader]

INCREDIBLY homophobic that I can't work from my bed while on my period

[planetarytransformation]

so many of the transfems i know spent their time pre-transition performing a kind of lifelong exercise in self-deprivation, the goal of which was to find out exactly how little a person needed to live. they starved themselves, dressed carelessly, shunned friends, and hollowed themselves out so as not to be burdens on anyone but themselves.

i see it now, too, in the girls around me. i'll ask if they want care – a home-cooked meal, relaxed company, sex without the expectation of reciprocation – and they say no, no, thank you, i don't need it; what would you like, what do you want, because in their head they're still doing that awful calculus, still training themselves to disappear in the eyes of the people around them.

i don't think i'd have died without transition – not in the conventional sense, at least – but to take that leap, i had to stop thinking of myself as a human experiment in fuel-efficient living and start nurturing the anemic, atrophied flame of desire in my heart. i had to learn to eat well, to exercise, to style myself beautiful, but harder than that, i had to learn to ask the people around me to work on my behalf in order to enrich my life and give me the things i wanted.

and i did it; i learned. and it was agony, but courage is a muscle you can train, and every day i get better at accepting gifts with the hungry gratitude i never learned in my years and years as a sad, scared, lonely boy.

so be patient with the trans girls in your life. better than that: be proactive, attentive, generous; be forceful, if you have to, and learn to distinguish real discomfort from the terrified reflex of self-denial that so many of us once learned to rely on.

and if you are so lucky as to love a trans girl, you must insist upon her. you must insist upon her happiness, her comfort, her pleasure, and her rest, because she may still not yet know how to make those demands for herself. if you can devote any amount of energy to becoming an engine that nurtures the flame of even a single tgirl then there is a place for you in trans heaven, which as far as i'm concerned is the only one worth going to

[yosh-iro]

o i just got an email from the teacher in charge of tutoring and even tho we technically havent started yet theres already somebody that asked for biology help

[futurefind]

"Explain Nasuverse mage Rea w.o explaining Nasuverse mage Rea:"

(Loose translation anyway:

if runes are used as supplemental magecraft like nails or screws, Rea uses them as brick n mortor for entire structure (and it WORKS)

unintentional (if unspoken) speciality in magical circuits construction and, with proper study, magecraft effecting the soul and outright Concepts directly

(FGO Rea absolutely works on an anti-Servant magecraft by targetting the 'thread' that allows that incarnation to have been summoned from the throne in the first place (ie via excising the cause and effect that allows them to have been summoned in the first place, for that summoning)

(Lesser example of this is FGO!Master subverse being incentived to develop 'artificial nerves' Mystic Code for when her Crest bs acts up, ie every rayshift, to mitigate how much it kneecaps her in the field)

she's an American magus that only spent time in Mage's Association for politicking/pawn reasons, and because she's so humble and friendly she has no idea how op any of her bs actually Is. she tries to explain/share it to people and it goes in one ear and out the next

[narizaki]

sticky notes   sakusa kiyoomi x reader

―   tags   fem reader,   fluff,   roommates to something close to lovers,   timeskip kiyoomi

―   notes   wc is 1.8k,   i wrote this on a whim so please forgive ooc kiyoomi, also please forgive any grammar mistakes lmao

you and sakusa have been communicating through notes for the past three months.

at first, you had mindlessly written down a few groceries you needed to buy on a sticky note, pasting it onto the fridge so you wouldn’t forget. it included some of the basics: eggs, flour, rice, milk, and other necessities for you and your roommate’s fridge. 

then, the next time you came home, you were greeted by a bright yellow sticky note seated next to your pink one. it said:

protein powder

lettuce

masks (the white ones)

between your full-time job and sakusa’s hectic schedule as a professional volleyball player, the two of you hardly saw each other, if at all. especially with sakusa’s new status on the olympic team. it wasn’t bad, per se, as you’d never been the closest to him — he was closed-off and, frankly, intimidating. it was like the man would go to any lengths to avoid interacting with others. regardless, his small addition to your grocery list had made you laugh. 

you checked off the items he wanted, and the sticky note was gone the next day.

from then, the two of you only ever communicated with each other this way. one of you would write the groceries they needed to get that weekend, and the other would make their additions to the list. it was effective, simple, and considering how the only post-it notes the either of you owned were offensively bright colors, hard to miss. 

after a while, you began adding little comments in addition to the list of items you needed to buy. they were short and sweet, like a thanks! written in the corner of your post-it detailing the items you needed sakusa to buy, or there are leftovers in the fridge after you made too much for dinner. you weren’t expecting sakusa to respond to them, given his stand-offish nature. so, when he did, you were surprised. no; scratch that, you were elated. although his replies weren’t anything extraordinary, just a simple you’re welcome or thank you for the food written in his neat handwriting under your own, it felt like a break in your relationship with sakusa. 

despite knowing him for a while now, the two of you stayed as acquaintances and nothing more. but, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to know more about him. and though unconventional, the sticky notes worked perfectly for this.

writing to each other using post-its became such a habit that sakusa bought a magnetic whiteboard. you were only made aware of it when you walked into the kitchen to see it set up. there was a note already written in black marker on the board, stating that the post-it notes were beginning to be a waste of paper. you made sure to write a large thanks, sakusa! with the same marker, adding a few hearts around it.

(and if sakusa flushed red at the sight of his name with hearts surrounding it, only he would know.) 

whenever your friends came over, they would question the purpose of the whiteboard. you couldn't blame them; it did take up the better half of your fridge's surface. they had a good laugh when you explained the story behind it, but some asked why couldn’t you just text each other?

and, honestly? you didn’t know either.

you knew it would be more efficient if you were to text sakusa instead of patiently waiting for his replies on the dry-erase board every day. but, if you wanted to, you knew you would’ve done it a while ago; before he even had the idea of buying the whiteboard, back when the two of you were conversing through neon sticky notes and wasting an unnecessary amount of paper. 

you surmise it’s because you didn't want to ruin your and sakusa’s relationship — if you could even call it that. texting him would forcefully pull him into your orbit. though you’ve been regularly interacting with him for the past few months, you were aware that you hardly knew anything about the man; small notes and lists only gave you so much information about a person. the whiteboard was a safe in-between — you learn a little more about him and his habits, while not forcing him to interact with you. 

well, you think, he’s not obligated to answer my texts, either. you have his number, and it’s not like you haven’t texted him before. there was only so much you could do when you weren’t home to pick up packages or forget to inform him of a repairman coming over. 

you mull over the decision, a short text already typed into your conversation with sakusa. your finger hovers over the send button, before you furiously spam the delete key and put your phone down. no, nevermind. 

your plan of staying content with your relationship fails miserably.

it’s been a hard few weeks at work, with seemingly endless deadlines you have to meet and an equally endless amount of meetings you’ve had to attend. you feel as if you haven’t had a moment to yourself in forever.

so, when you submit your most recent project to your boss and shut your laptop closed, the first thing on your mind is to go home and rest. your mind is on auto-pilot as you pack your belongings, spitting out no’s to your co-workers' offers to go out drinking. when you’re this tired, the last thing you want to do is wake up with a splitting headache and an awful hangover the next day.

you stumble into your apartment, hastily toeing your heels off. a sigh leaves you, the harsh pressure of the shoe finally being relieved. they’re thrown somewhere in the corner, probably not anywhere close to where they should be, but you’ll deal with that tomorrow. all you want is some sleep. you consider just crashing on the couch and dealing with the consequences tomorrow.

“rough day?” a flat voice asks. you jump at the noise, not expecting anyone to be in your apartment. when you look up, you’re greeted by a tall figure standing in front of you. your eyes take a moment to rack over them, not completely registering that the only other person who has access to your apartment is…

sakusa.

“huh…?” you mutter, blinking a few times to will the tiredness from your eyes. it doesn’t work. sakusa only sighs, stepping from the doorway and further into your home. there’s a look on his face that’s telling you to follow, but when you don’t out of pure shock because he’s here? like, actually here? at home? he rolls his eyes.

“come on,” he says, “there’s food on the stove already.” 

you continue to stay silent, causing sakusa to raise an eyebrow. your face is scrunched up, a hand on the wall next to you to support your weight.

“are you…am i hallucinating…?” you mumble, internally debating if you wanted to pinch yourself to make sure that you’re not dreaming in any way. “i thought you weren’t going to be back for a while?” 

in response to your delirious rambling, sakusa laughs. it’s rather quiet, but you know he does. you hear the rapid exhalation of air accompanied by a deep rumble coming from his chest, and you can see his shoulders shaking. 

he steps closer to you, forcing your bag from your shoulder and practically pulling you with him into your shared living room. you’re tripping over your feet, mind still fuzzy from your tiring day. 

“leave it up to you to not be able to think properly after a long day,” he murmurs, setting your bag down on the couch. in your half-awake daze, you’re unable to form a proper response. “i guess you’re not hungry then.”

“well…” you stammer, still trying to get your bearings. “you’re like, never home, sakusa…so how am i supposed to react when you practically teleport in front of me?” you finish, a yawn escaping you. that makes sakusa laugh again. 

“for your information, i didn’t teleport in front of you,” he replies, “i heard the door open, so i went to greet my roommate. now, go get ready for bed.”

you disregard what he says, opting to groan when he orders you to get ready for bed. it just seems like so much work. you have to take off your makeup, change, brush your teeth, do your skincare…you think you’d rather crash face-first on your couch, like you were planning on doing earlier. you tell him that much.

sakusa rolls his eyes again. he pushes you towardsthe bathroom, telling you to take off your makeup, while he goes to rummage in your room for sleepwear. what? 

you don't have much of a choice, so you follow his directions. beginning with your meticulous skincare routine, you cleanse off your makeup. while you’re drying your face, sakusa knocks on the bathroom door with a fresh pair of pajamas for you to change into. 

once you’ve completed your nightly routine, you wander out of the bathroom to find sakusa sitting on the couch. he seems preoccupied with something on his phone, and you have to admit that the sight of him concentrating is rather charming. 

thankfully, the cold water you’d splashed onto your face woke you up, so you’re more awake than you were when you’d entered. you’re still horribly tired, and you want nothing but to sleep in the comfort of your bed, but you feel bad going straight to bed without even thanking sakusa for taking care of you. the only way the two of you talked for the last few months  was over post-it notes, for god's sake! 

“hey, sakusa?” you call, and his attention snaps from his phone to you. “thanks for uh…taking care of me. sorry about all that, i was really tired. or, er, am really tired.” you awkwardly stutter out. 

he hums in response, standing up from the couch and taking long strides towards you. thanks to his height, he’s face-to-face with you in no time. he’s close — maybe a little too close for someone you think probably doesn't even consider you a friend. that leads you to another realization: for someone that you knew disliked social interaction, he’s also talked to you an awful lot today.

“if you were really thankful, you’d go to bed right now and eat what i made tomorrow. you’re exhausted.” he bluntly replies. you gape at him for a moment, about to reply, but he cuts you off. “i’ll be home more often. volleyball is in the off-season now.” 

you know you should just nod and turn on your heel to go to bed, but there’s a question on the tip of your tongue that slips before you’re able to catch it. 

“so… no more whiteboard notes?” you question. sakusa laughs for a third time that night, and you think you’ve hit the jackpot in your slightly delirious state. 

he shakes his head. “no more whiteboard notes for now.”

you wake up the next morning, and when you enter the kitchen, you see a yellow sticky note pasted onto the whiteboard. on it, it reads: 

we can make these lists together now, so there's no need for either of these.

and, yeah, you think you can get used to that. 

[kleopatra45]

Degrees of Mars in the Natal Chart

Mars in Aries Degrees (1°, 13°, 25°):

These degrees suggest a highly passionate and driven approach to action and assertiveness. Individuals with Mars at these degrees may be impulsive, courageous, and quick to initiate new endeavors. They have a strong desire to lead and can be competitive, enthusiastic, and proactive in pursuing their goals.

Mars in Taurus Degrees (2°, 14°, 26°):

Degrees in Taurus imply a determined and persistent approach to action and physical energy. Those with Mars at these degrees may exhibit patience, endurance, and a methodical pace in pursuing their ambitions. They are grounded, practical, and focused on achieving tangible results, particularly in areas related to stability and material security.

Mars in Gemini Degrees (3°, 15°, 27°):

These degrees suggest a versatile and mentally agile approach to action and assertiveness. Individuals with Mars at these degrees may excel in communication, networking, and multitasking. They are curious, adaptable, and energized by intellectual challenges, often seeking variety and stimulation in their pursuits.

Mars in Cancer Degrees (4°, 16°, 28°):

Degrees in Cancer imply a protective and emotionally driven approach to action and assertiveness. Those with Mars at these degrees may channel their energy into nurturing and defending loved ones, home, and security. They are sensitive to emotional cues and may act from a place of instinctual protectiveness.

Mars in Leo Degrees (5°, 17°, 29°):

These degrees suggest a bold, expressive, and sometimes dramatic approach to action and assertiveness. Individuals with Mars at these degrees are confident, charismatic, and motivated by creative self-expression and recognition. They thrive in leadership roles and may exhibit a flair for theatrics in their endeavors.

Mars in Virgo Degrees (6°, 18°):

These degrees imply a meticulous, detail-oriented approach to action and physical energy. Those with Mars at these degrees may excel in tasks requiring precision, organization, and problem-solving. They are diligent, analytical, and motivated by a desire for efficiency and improvement.

Mars in Libra Degrees (7°, 19°):

Degrees in Libra suggest a cooperative and diplomatic approach to action and assertiveness. Individuals with Mars at these degrees may seek harmony, fairness, and balanced outcomes in their pursuits. They are skilled negotiators, value teamwork, and may act with consideration for others' perspectives.

Mars in Scorpio Degrees (8°, 20°):

These degrees suggest an intense, passionate, and sometimes secretive approach to action and assertiveness. Those with Scorpio at these degrees are driven by deep emotional intensity, determination, and a desire for transformation. They are resourceful, strategic, and may pursue their goals with unwavering focus.

Mars in Sagittarius Degrees (9°, 21°):

Degrees in Sagittarius imply an adventurous, optimistic, and expansive approach to action and physical energy. Individuals with Mars at these degrees are motivated by exploration, freedom, and the pursuit of knowledge. They thrive on challenges, seek new experiences, and may act impulsively in pursuit of their ideals.

Mars in Capricorn Degrees (10°, 22°):

These degrees suggest a disciplined, ambitious, and goal-oriented approach to action and assertiveness. Those with Mars at these degrees are driven by a strong sense of responsibility, determination, and a desire for long-term success. They are willing to work hard, endure challenges, and strategically advance towards their ambitions.

Mars in Aquarius Degrees (11°, 23°):

These degrees imply an innovative, unconventional, and sometimes rebellious approach to action and assertiveness. Individuals with Mars at these degrees are motivated by humanitarian ideals, social causes, and a desire for personal freedom. They are independent thinkers, catalysts for change, and may challenge traditional norms in their pursuits.

Mars in Pisces Degrees (12°, 24°):

Degrees in Pisces suggest a compassionate, imaginative, and intuitive approach to action and assertiveness. Those with Mars at these degrees may act from a place of empathy, creativity, and sensitivity to the needs of others. They are spiritually inclined, adaptable, and may find motivation through artistic or altruistic pursuits.

©️kleopatra45

[sugurizz]

(Smut/ NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)

Nanami always keeps clear boundaries with his subordinates. He's a highly professional man who never crosses a line when it comes to mutual respect with everyone around him.

It's almost admirable in your eyes..How efficient he is, how perfectly he executes every task of his job. only does he seem different at times...

You're just so thoughtful it almost annoys him. You've already picked up on each and every one of his little habits; the way he likes his coffee, exactly when he takes his coffee breaks, where he usually hangs his freshly ironed jackets, where each piece of paperwork is kept in his office...

...Might be the old age but it makes him feel things when you knock on his door, when you greet him with the "Morning, Nanami-san, I sorted the documents from yesterday for you", or when you get his jacket for him without him even asking, with a sweet "Nanami-san, please don't forget your umbrella tomorrow, it's going to be rainy."

You're the only one who's allowed to adjust his tie when it's a bit loose, the only one allowed to lay your hands on his chest and fix his collar -breathing in the scent of his colone along the way-, the only one igniting his primal desire despite his exhausting life.

Might be the old age but he certainly wishes he could get this kind of treatment at home as well. He's rather lonely, overworked and tired whenever he gets back to his empty apartment..

Wouldn't it be better if you were the one to bake his fresh bread and prepare his delicious sandwiches for him? Give him a kiss before he heads to work and send him pictures of your legs spread with one of his designer ties barely covering your pussy?

Wouldn't it be so much better if he came back to strip you naked and take a steamy shower with you? push you on his king-sized bed to devour your sex, then have you all prepped and pretty to take his cock?

He'd be so happy with any of that, so happy he's now stroking himself and fondling his balls, trying his best to picture the way your tits pressed on his chest in the cramped elevator yesterday.

He knew your birthday was coming up but you never thought he'd even remember something so seemingly 'irrelevant' to him. So you didn't expect to find a luxurious box delievered to your doorstep, with a handwritten wishcard that had a familiar scent to it.

A note saying "wear them with your black heels, it'd look perfect" was inside the box, signed with a beautiful -Kento- on the corner...

---

"Nanami-san, your morning coffee." You greeted him with a smile the next day, leaning down as you gently posed the cup next to him.

"Nanami-san, I'm wearing your gift for my birthday. And the fabric feels so soft on me..."

a large hand pulled you back by the arm as you were about to walk off..

"Don't go there, sweet cheeks. you know I'll ruin you.."

"Then ruin me, Kento..."

I'll be at my desk if you ever need me."

You closed the door behind you, flashing him an innocent smile on the way...

---

Nanami san was missing at work that evening, secretary y/n was not there either. But thankfully your coworkers didn't know the reason behind your absence..

Nanami is busy training your throat in his spacious apartment. Your ass is on the cold floor tiles, body stripped to the lacy lingerie he bought you, caged between the wall and his lower half as he goes balls deep in your throat.

His tie is leashed around your neck with his leg pushing between your thighs, the tip of his expensive leather shoe bumping against your tiny clit.

"How much did this pussy think of me, hmm? does she like my shoe kissing her? playing with her?"

His leg presses harder, your eyes cross in pleasure as you suffocate on his veiny length..

"Look down princess, she's dirtying herself, drooling on my shoe.."

he frees himself from your mouth, leaving you with a drooly tongue and snotty nose as you shiver under him.

"Nanami..my pussy wants you, put it in her..please!"

"Nasty minx." He flicks his tongue with a grin, tears his shirt open to reveal his broad shoulders and toned chest, then tirelessly lifts you on his biceps.

"Aww...I want her too, princess.."

he kisses you senseless, giving himself a few pumps before he splits you open.

He's fevereshly rammimg inside you..golden strands sticking to his sweaty forehead, blushy cheeks blooming and hazel eyes almost teary as he finally feeds the hunger for you..

"Y/n...I need a wife! I want you-fuck-" you hug on him tighter, pussy clenching at the way he growls it against your lips... he paints your stomach white, his embrace deliciously crushing your body.

---

...A few days later the rumors started circulating among the coworkers; Both y/n and Nanami suddenly started wearing rings around the same time, and Nanami's office door started getting double locked, too often...

[spencereidluver]

L is for Lover Boy

december 14, 2008

summary:  After you have to drive back to your apartment for the third time in two days to get stuff, Spencer clears out two drawers in his dresser for you while you're gone and can't wait to show you.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: just lots of fluff and spence being a good bf

“No, don’t go,” Spencer says as he gently claws at your hips trying to pull you back into him. You were cuddled up with him on the sofa in his living room watching some documentary he’d put on. This was your third day at Spencer’s house, having come over Friday after work and spending the night, then being begged not to leave, so after paying a quick visit to your home in order to get a toothbrush, clothes, and anything else your heart desired, you returned to Spencer’s apartment for a second night. 

“Spencer, baby, I have to,” you try to pry his hands from your hips, though he is a lot stronger than he looks. He gets a hold of you, pulling you onto his lap. He starts to tickle your ribs, making you hunch over him. You try to push his hands away, but ultimately fail as you yell his name between giggles.

“Stay and I’ll stop,” he smiles into your neck. 

“One more night,” you say and grab his wrists in order to calm his movements. “But I have to go home and get work clothes, so let me go.”

He pouts, but obliges. It’s so hard to tell such a sweet boy no, plus falling asleep in his arms every night is something you could see yourself getting used to.

“Fine, but hurry. I want to cuddle,” he sighs.

You lean down, planting a kiss on his forehead and fluffing his hair with your fingers. “I love you, Spencie,” you say. “I love you.”

You trudge to the door of his apartment, slipping your shoes and coat on and grabbing your keys. “I’ll be back,” you call out to Spencer before you exit the apartment and make your way to the stairs and out to your car.

_____

At your apartment, you grabbed the one clean work outfit you still had and tossed it over your shoulder. You’d been at Spencer’s place so much recently you hadn’t done laundry in weeks. He was gonna be sad when you broke the news that tonight was the last night. For now anyways. You loved staying with Spencer… The only issue was all your stuff was at your house. 

You studied the walls of your apartment. How was it that a place you’d been so comfortable in for so long had become barren? How was it that Spencer’s presence is truly what made you feel at home? You neared the entryway of your unit, letting your fingers track on the surface of the wooden table to the side of the door. You brought your hand up to your eye level: Dust. Your apartment had sat empty for so long that even the most communal surfaces had become neglected. Normally you’d stop to wipe the dust clean, but right now, all that was filling your consciousness was returning to Spencer. You grabbed the pack of gum off the dust-covered table and clenched your keys in your fist. You rush out the door of your apartment and head straight for the elevator. 

_____

You’re practically tripping over your own feet as you rush back into Spencer’s apartment complex. You take the stairs as you don’t see waiting on the elevator as time efficient since you’re only going up to the second floor. As you approach his unit, you slow your steps, careful not to alarm any of the tenets. You reach his door, shuffling the items in your hands in order to knock. Two hits of your fist on the wood and the golden number “twenty-three” is replaced by a smiling Spencer Reid. 

“Hey Spence,” you say, handing over the bag in your arms as he’d grabbed the strap, signaling he wanted to take it from you. He was always chivalrous: opening doors, wrapping you in his sweaters, buying you flowers, and this was another example of such. He always carried your bag for you, even if he had his own. If there was anything Spencer could do to make your day the slightest bit simpler, he was jumping to it. His world revolved around making you happy. And he did a damn good job of it. 

“Hi, how was your apartment?” He asked as he stepped aside so you could enter his. He followed you, shutting the door and turning the lock behind him. 

“It was alright,” you said. “Just how I left it.” You watched as he placed your bag gently on the counter. He was always extremely gentle with your things, even if he didn’t need to be. He cared as much for your things as he did for you, and treated all things, great or small, as if they were as delicate as his love for you. 

“That’s good, I’m glad no one had intruded in your absence.” He turned his attention away from the direction of the counter and toward you. His eyes focused on your face, studying you. “Hey, I want to show you something,” he said as he brought his hand up to meet your waist. He pulled you into a hug, letting his hands linger on you after you’d pulled back. He stared at you for a moment before pulling you back into him, his lips crashing into yours. The kiss was rough- like getting hit by a bus. A very pleasant bus, but a bus nonetheless. His hands gripped on your waist, surely leaving marks, as his lips moved feverishly into yours. 

You giggled into his kiss, pushing him away gently by his chest. He gives a small pout which makes you feel a bit bad, so you lean to give him one last small peck. He smiles. 

“Sorry,” he says, his cheeks forming a light blush, “I just love you.” His hands fall from your waist. He shuffles to the front of you, grabbing your hand and pulling you behind him as he leads you to his bedroom. 

“I love you, Spence,” you say while trailing behind him. “So much. Now, what are you showing me?” He drops your hand as you enter his room, moving it to the small of your back and giving you a slight shove in the direction of one of his closet.

Spencer’s closet was a small room jutting out of the wall adjacent to the door. In it was a six drawer chest, a floor mirror, and a horizontal rod that harbored his polo shirts, sweaters, and suit jackets. In front of the mirror sat his three pairs of shoes- his black converse, his brown leather dress shoes, and his black suede dress shoes. Typically, his converse were just thrown in front, as they were his most common choice and he didn’t see the effort to put them back nicely every single time was worth it. You took notice of the fact that they were set up nicely like the two pairs of dress shoes, him even having tied them to make it more visually appealing. You also noticed the knickknacks he had atop his dresser had been rearranged, and some books had been relocated from somewhere. 

“You cleaned your closet!” you said, reaching out to fondle the Curta calculator that was placed on the edge of the dresser. 

“I did,” he responded, still having ahold of your back. “Open the bottom drawers.” 

You were a bit confused. Why was he giving you a closet tour? What could possibly be so intriguing about the contents of these drawers that he had to give you the rundown? You obliged nonetheless, partially because you were curious, but mostly because you could sense his excitement and knew this was a big thing for him. 

Leaning down to grab the parallel knobs on the very bottom drawer, you braced for something slightly heavy, a wooden drawer filled with clothing, but were taken aback when the drawer practically flew open. It was empty. You were confused. Was he getting a head start on spring cleaning? Maybe you just opened the wrong drawer. You silently opened the next drawer up, it being empty as well.

You stood and faced Spencer who had a big goofy grin on his face. You furrowed your brows at him, softening your voice to say, “I’m confused.”

“It's for you,” he said, still with his dorky smile. “I just thought, since you’ve been staying here so often, and I really hate to have you traveling to and from your apartment for five minutes every other day, maybe you could store some of your clothes and things here.”

“Spencer, I-”

You must’ve had a passive tone because his smile faded as the words fell out your mouth.

“I-if you don’t want to then I understand, I know we really just started dating and rushing things is statistically bad for relationships, and I’m n-not saying you should move in with me, I just-”

“Spencer,” you interrupted him, desperate to save him from his pointless embarrassment. His eyes are wide as he looks down at you, almost as if he’s pleading. “Spence, this is so sweet,” you say, “it’s perfect.”

His smile, though more calm this time, returns. “Really?” he asks.

“Really. Such a good idea too.” You ruffle his hair. “I love you.”

His smile widens, his eyes squinting from the contortion of his cheeks. 

He can barely spit out an “I love you too,” before his expression changes to one of remembrance. 

“Oh!” he exclaims, “I also took my books out of this nightstand, you can put stuff in there too.” He gestured to the nightstand on the closet side- the right side- your side- of the bed.

‘That’s where those books on the dresser came from,’ you thought to yourself. You glance at the bed, noticing that he’d not only done your laundry, but also folded your clothes and separated them by outfits for you. 

“Wow,” you say as your hand grazes the fabric of the folded clothing, “you really didn’t have to do all this, Spencer.”

“I know,” he said, “but I wanted to.” He picks up one of the stacks of your clothing off the bed and carries it the few steps to the closet. “You want to go ahead and put these in here?” He gestures toward the dresser.

“Sure, these can be my ‘Spencer’ clothes!” 

He giggles at your little pun. That was something you loved about Spencer; no matter how bad a joke you made was, he always laughed. Maybe he was just being nice, but it made you feel good, so you weren’t complaining.

_____

You awoke before Spencer for the first time since you’ve been staying over. 

‘Doing all that rearranging last night must’ve really knocked him out,’ you thought.

You lied still in his embrace, careful not to move a muscle. He was lying on his back, left arm tucked underneath you, right draped across your waist. You lied on your stomach, left leg wrapped around his hips, the other down parallel to his. Your head rested on his chest allowing you to hear every breath taken by him. You were worried if you moved even a tiny bit it would stir him awake and this would end. You were far too comfortable in his arms and with your thoughts to do such a thing. 

Unintentionally, you found yourself matching his breathing patterns. You found yourself unintentionally matching a lot of Spencer’s mannerisms as of recently. Granted, you spent almost all your time with him, but you could never have ‘too much’ Spencer Reid. You thought about what he said last night: “I know we really just started dating.” While technically he was correct, it had only been three months since your first date, and a little over two since you guys had become official, it felt like a lifetime with him. Maybe this was because you were just as close before, the only difference now being that you kiss. Sometimes you have to remind yourself this is his first relationship. You’d be lying if you didn’t say you were weary to begin the relationship at first, though now you’re more than happy you did. Spencer has been the best decision of your life. Turning him from your nerdy best friend to the love of your life has been the best decision. He was perfect. 

Spencer stirred beneath you, rolling over and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You reached your hand up, tangling it in his hair, and gently ran your nails through his scalp. He brought his knees up toward his chest, now lying in a loose fetal position with his legs tucked into the gap yours left. He was like a baby. Your baby. 

You could hear his breath getting caught in his throat as his body fought to stay asleep. 

“Hey,” you whispered softly into his ear as you let your hand trace down his hairline to cup his jaw. He gave you a small groan in response, being awake but not yet conscious. 

“Spence baby,” you hummed. You tilted his face up toward you while rubbing your thumb back and forth on his sharp jawline. You pressed several small kisses on his forehead. From the way he was leaning into you, it was obvious he was awake. You looked down at him, his eyes still shut.

“G’morning,” Spencer mumbled as his eyes fluttered open and met yours. 

“How’d you sleep?” You brushed a stray piece of hair from in front of his eyes.

“Pretty good. I uh, I had a dream about you.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. We were just reading. You know, actually they say when you dream of your partner it means you’re wanting to spend more time with them, which is strange because aside from when you went home for an hour last night we’ve been together for the past 56 hours with no cases as a distraction. That’s the longest time we’ve been together.”

Only Spencer could wake up and immediately start sharing facts.

“Maybe it means you enjoyed the last 56 hours and wish for them to continue, rather than for them to come into existence since they already have.”

He smiles at you, in awe. “That- that’s a really good point.” “You’re not the only smart one, Dr. Reid.” You boop his nose to acknowledge that you’re teasing him. Spencer sometimes struggles with social cues; it doesn’t take a genius to know that. You always try your hardest to do something to let him know you’re just teasing. 

He’s still smiling. “Y/n, you never fail to amaze me.” 

His eyes sparkle in the light. More than usual. A tear falls from his left eye. He’s crying.

You wipe the tear away and grab his chin, lifting up toward you. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask, using your soft voice again. Another set of tears falls from his eyes.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” he said, “I just…” His voice hitched. Tears stream down his face seemingly uncontrollably. “I just love you so much, Y/n.”

“I love you, Spencer.” You say earnestly, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on his salty, tear soaked, lips. He melted into the kiss instantly, chasing your lips as you pulled away. 

“Please, Y/n. Kiss me,” he said, sitting up to allow easier access. You sat up as well, criss-crossing your legs in front of you to match Spencer. You lean forward, grabbing ahold of his thighs to keep yourself from face planting into him. He doesn’t waste a second before he’s pressing his lips onto yours. You taste his tears with every opening of your mouth. He still has morning breath, you know you do too, but that taste belongs to what you call home. This boy, this bed, this room, this apartment; it's your home.

_____

next chapter: M is for Merry Christmas

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version! 

_____

a/n: hi! long time no see... i'm really sorry for my unannounced absence :( i got really busy with school and work and just had a major burnout. i'm really gonna try to push some stories out for you guys as i really do enjoy writing them and seeing your guys' reaction to them. thank you guys for sticking with me

_____

Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

_____

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[crystallinestars]

How They React to Your Death

My HCs about how I think the Genshin boys would react to your death. I wanted to write Kaeya too, but ran out of steam.

This month has been terrible to me, so I was in the mood for angst. I don't know how well these turned out, but they were fun to think about.

Part 2 here.

Characters: Alhaitham, Childe, Heizou, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, and Wriothesley

WARNING:

Reader has death descriptions. Some are more graphic than others, but I don't get into the nitty gritty details.

Spoilers for the backstories of all the mentioned boys.

MAJOR SPOILERS for Act V of the Fontaine Archon quest in Neuvillette's part.

Childe's part contains mention of suicidal thoughts.

Kaveh's and Venti's parts contain alcoholism

🎧 Alhaitham

Despite Alhaitham’s considerable wealth, no amount of money could cure your Eleazar sickness. His money could only buy treatment that prolonged your life a little bit, but ultimately your many years of battling the illness ended when he got news from the doctors that you had passed away in your sleep.

Alhaitham had accepted the news fairly quickly. He knew your death was inevitable, could see you slowly wasting away each time he visited you in the hospital over the past few months. So it was no surprise to him when the day finally came. The other patients and staff thought it strange how Alhaitham had no visible reaction to the news, but some chalked it up to shock when in truth the Scribe was simply accepting of that fact. There was no use denying something that already happened.

When Alhaitham came home that day, the house felt silent and empty. It reminded him of how the house felt when his grandmother passed away when he was younger. The sensations were similar. However, he did not cry over your death. Instead, he carried on his life as normal, or as close to it as he could now that you were no longer a part of what he considered ‘normal’.

At first glance, people thought that Haitham was unaffected by your death. Nothing about him changed. Not his mannerisms, his quality of work, or his expression. He remained the same reserved, stoic Scribe who had no time for trivial nonsense or extra work. He also never talked about you to others aside from confirming their question if you were truly gone. Alhaitham was like a well-oiled machine that worked efficiently like clockwork, keeping up the same even rhythm.

What they don’t see is how he comes home with the expectation of hearing your voice greet him upon entering, only to be faced with a defeating silence that makes his heart sink. They don’t know that Alhaitham wakes up throughout the night, expecting to find you snuggled up next to him in bed the way you used to before your sickness got worse, and you had to be hospitalized. However, you weren’t there no matter how many times he looked towards your side of the bed, and the Scribe could only sigh and try to fall back asleep while ignoring his aching heart.

No one sees how Alhaitham gets too lost in his books in the mornings and accidentally makes two cups of coffee instead of one due to force of habit. Or how, for once, he finds the silence of his house bothersome without your voice and the sounds of your activities resounding within the walls, and it’s enough to distract him from reading. He could be found reading at the House of Daena and Puspa Café more often from then on.

During his afternoon naps, Alhaitham sneaks back home and cradles your favorite blanket to mimic the sensation of holding your soft body in his arms the way he used to when you joined him for naps. He listens to recordings of you talking with him just so he can hear your voice again. He was glad he made the decision to record your voice at the hospital before you became too weak to speak. It gave him the chance to hear you one more time even if the sound of your voice made his chest hurt so much that he occasionally had to stop the recording to collect himself.

Nobody sees how Alhaitham finally picks up the fiction books you recommended him because they were your favorite. He prefers non-fiction, but these books are the last things he has left through which he could connect to your mind and way of thinking. He reads them all cover-to-cover even if he finds the story lacking or the writing not to his taste. He will learn to treasure each and every word because you once did.

What someone might see, as Kaveh did when he moved in with the Scribe, is a bookshelf filled with a few journals, a thick book with an emerald cover, and an assortment of fiction books that exist nowhere else in the house. Alhaitham never talks about these books unless asked, but their well-worn covers are a sign of frequent use, and sure enough, one can catch him reading a rare fiction book during one specific month each year.

🐋 Childe

You went missing after going out to collect some firewood in the woods near Childe’s home. A search party was arranged to find you with Childe in the lead, and he was also the first one to find your remains. Your body had been torn apart, blood and innards splattered across the snow, no doubt the work of some rifthounds. Usually, Childe would relish in such a gory sight, but not this time. Not when it’s your blood and flesh painted in the snow.

The sight leaves him numb. He’s numb when the search party comes to retrieve you, numb when he sees your parents weeping over your gruesome death, and numb when he takes on the duty of exterminating every rifthound he finds around Morepesok.

He wants to cry too, to grieve for you the way he needs, but refrains. He doesn’t want to appear weak and unreliable when his younger siblings mourn and cry over your death. You were like family to them, and your death broke their little hearts to pieces. Childe didn’t want to burden his siblings further by breaking down in front of them. He needed to remain a reliable older brother who could support them through this tough time, even when his own heart bled and he cried in his sleep when he dreamed about you.

Childe’s underlings noted that the Eleventh Harbinger became colder and more irritable after your passing. Any mention of your name would garner the speaker a harsh glare, and if Childe assumed what said person said about you was disrespectful, he didn’t hesitate to start a fight and beat the other person within an inch of their life. He became violent and unhinged, much like how he used to be when he returned from the Abyss as a fourteen-year-old boy.

Childe knew his behavior was irrational, and it pained him to see even his own family fear him due to his violent actions. He felt restless. Spending time at home among your belongings summoned feelings of longing and sadness, but even so, he couldn’t bear to throw anything away. He lived among the ghosts of your existence, however, it drove him mad with grief.

Childe needed an outlet for his emotions, so he took to fighting monsters and other strong opponents. He became even more reckless in battle. If before, the Harbinger sought out strong enemies to test his mettle against them and grow stronger as a result, now he sought out an opponent that would be worthy of taking his life.

Childe didn’t want to abandon his family. He loved them dearly and wanted to see his siblings grow up to be happy and successful people, but life without you felt so hollow. A part of him wanted to return to his family, but the sense of his family feeling incomplete never left him. You were just as much of a family to him as his siblings and parents were. He had plans to start his own family with you. But now… now, a part of him yearns to reunite with you in the afterlife. He promised he would stay by your side no matter what, and Ajax is not one to break his promises.

🔍 Heizou

Heizou was one of the first to hear about your stabbing that occurred in an Inazuman alleyway late that evening. You were rushed to a doctor to have your wound treated, but the robber who attacked you hit a vital area. Your blood loss was colossal, and it wasn’t long after arriving at the doctor’s that you succumbed to your injury.

To Heizou, the news brought on a sense of deja vu. He’s already lost a friend to crime in the past, and now he lost you to crime, too. The knowledge made him furious and heartbroken. He was angry at the robber for stabbing you just so he could steal some money that you didn’t want to part with, and he was angry at himself for failing to prevent this. After his friend passed away, Heizou swore to nip crime in the bud by discouraging criminals from committing crimes with the threat that he would find and capture them no matter what without fail. But what good did his resolve do if you still died because of an armed robber?

The heartache and guilt he felt ate away at him as the memory of your ashen face during your last few moments haunted him. He lost you. Never again would he get to spend time with you and make you laugh, kiss and hug you, or tell you he loved you.

His anger drove him to capture the murderer in record time, but hearing the criminal’s subsequent sentence for theft and murder didn’t comfort the detective. No amount of jail time would ever atone for the loss of your life.

After that day, Heizou lost his playful demeanor, becoming somber and reserved. He threw himself into his work, feeling pressured to capture as many criminals as he could in as little time as possible. However, his grief and exhaustion caused his mind to dull and make mistakes while investigating clues. It got to the point where Kujou Sara had to forcibly send him on vacation so he could take a break and properly process your death.

Despite his protests, Heizou knew he wasn’t much use in his current state, so he took this free time to visit your family and mourn together with them. He apologized for not doing a better job of protecting you, fully expecting your parents to lay blame on him for not protecting their child. To his surprise, your parents didn’t blame him at all. They even thanked him for catching the murderer and helping them to feel a little more at peace. Heizou’s interaction with your family helped him feel a tiny bit less guilty about your death.

The experience left him feeling a little less broken, so in the following days he sorted through your belongings in your shared home. He packed away some items to return to your parents, some things he put in storage, and others he gave away that he remembered you wanting to get rid of. A few of your items he kept for himself, one of which was a scarf you mentioned you bought because it was the same shade of green as his eyes which reminded you of him.

Heizou wore your scarf as a keepsake and good luck charm and would hardly be seen without it when he finally came back to work. What once served as your reminder of him, now served as his reminder of you, the person he loved with his whole being. But with the memories of you came the reminder of how you died. Though the memory was painful, it helped Heizou work up the will to keep pursuing his goal of eradicating crime. Even when the case was extremely tough with conflicting clues, your scarf would remind him to not give up, to not let another incident like yours happen again, and Heizou would persevere. He would continue to persevere no matter how long it took because he didn’t want innocent lives like yours to be snatched away so cruelly. Maybe one day, he will see you in the afterlife and proudly tell you all about how he achieved his dream. Until then, he will work hard to be worthy of the title of Inazuma’s best detective.

🍷 Kaveh

Kaveh had a lot of work to do. He was saddled with creating drafts for another large project while also trying to work on the commission for constructing a library in Aaru village for the children. Wanting to help alleviate his burden, you offered to take the finished drafts over to Aaru village yourself so he could focus on finishing up work for his other project. Kaveh tried to object, saying you really didn’t need to trouble yourself on his behalf, but you insisted, expressing your desire to help him finish his work sooner so the two of you could spend more time together again. After some deliberation, he let you go to the village by yourself, confident that you could make the trip since you accompanied him there several times before.

A few days later, Kaveh received news that you had died on your return trip from the desert. When he heard the cause of your death, his stomach roiled. You perished in quicksand just like his father. You died doing something for his sake, just like his father did.

Whatever future plans he was building together with you, whatever progress you made in helping him slowly heal from his trauma, it all came crashing down around him. Your death reopened old wounds Kaveh was only starting to heal from, as well as left new scars that tormented him every waking moment.

The first few weeks, Kaveh couldn’t stand to be in your shared home. It was full of memories of you, and each and every one of your belongings would stab at his heart like a blade. Moreover, the house felt so silent without you around. It reminded him of when his mother left for Fontaine, leaving him alone in a house too big for only him to live in. Now, he was reliving that moment all over again, but it was worse this time because, unlike his mother, he would never see you again.

Kaveh also couldn’t stand to look inside his sketchbooks. The pages were covered in various sketches of you, and looking at them only made the anguish and guilt grow in him tenfold. He blamed himself for your death, attributing it to being his fault just like he attributes his father’s death as his fault too. No matter what anyone says to console him, he will never stop believing it’s all his fault.

Fueled by guilt and self-loathing, Kaveh spent several weeks visiting Lambad’s tavern practically every day. One could even say he lived there since the architect seldom went home. He used what little money he had to buy alcohol, especially of the stronger kind. He wanted to numb the pain in his heart and to pretend that you weren’t really gone from this world. The alcohol helped to muddle his mind until his intoxicated brain conjured happy memories of you together, and Kaveh would mumble your name in a drunken haze. Other times it didn’t help, and Alhaitham, Cyno, or Tighnari could often find a drunk Kaveh quietly crying while slumped over a table and trying their best to drag him home while listening to his drunken babble of self-loathing and regret.

It will take a long time for Kaveh to feel okay again, and even then, he will never be the same optimistic and cheerful person he used to be. You were his muse, the one who made him feel like maybe he was deserving of love after all. But with you gone, he lost his creative spark. His designs no longer held the same extravagant and artistic flair they used to. Now, they’re more tame by comparison. With your passing, you took with you the little bit of joy he felt towards the world, and it seemed more bleak than it used to be when he was with you.

Kaveh refused to seek out love after your death. He’s lost too many people he held dear and has been left alone over and over again. The pain of being left behind and of feeling like he will only bring misfortune to those he cares about, made him seal off his heart. He doesn’t want to let people close to him like that again, and neither does he want to replace you. You were, and still are, very special to him.

Despite numerous years going by after your passing, Kaveh never forgot you, and he didn’t want your memory to be forgotten either. He built an art school and dedicated it to you in honor of being the one who inspired him so much in his creative endeavors. He hopes that your name will live on and continue to inspire future generations of artists long after he is gone from the world.

🎩 Lyney Having grown up in the House of the Hearth with Lyney and Lynette, the twins were practically like family to you. Though admittedly, Lyney and you developed romantic ties rather than familial ones the more you got to know each other. It was no surprise to anyone when the two of you became a couple, and Lynette even encouraged it.

Being a member of the Fatui, you were often sent out on dangerous missions to infiltrate enemy territory and report your findings back to Arlecchino. You were good at your job and had major successfully completed missions under your belt, but even the best slip up sometimes. After infiltrating enemy headquarters, you regularly reported your findings back to the House, however, one day the correspondence stopped. You went completely silent. The thought of you being caught immediately crossed Lyney’s mind, but he was hopeful that as an experienced agent, you would manage to find a way out somehow. You always have in the past, and after having worked together with you during joint missions, he saw first-hand how capable you were. To pass the time, he focused on polishing a magic trick he wanted to show you upon your return.

Days go by, and just as the magician is about to lose his patience and run off to try and find you, news about your body washing up on a riverbank reaches his ears. The heartbreak Lyney experiences upon hearing the news is indescribable. He felt lost, disoriented, and anguished. A part of him refused to believe the facts, but after witnessing the gruesome sight of your corpse, he had no choice but to face reality.

You were dead.

Lyney wondered at length about the cause of your death, and while his own guesses made his stomach knot, the autopsy report he read a few days later made him livid. Numerous torture and abuse marks were found on your body. It seemed that the enemy had captured and tortured you, hoping to force you to spill some of the Fatui’s secrets. Judging by the severity of the most recent wounds, you must have kept quiet because more brutal torture methods were used on you until the enemy figured out they wouldn’t get anything out of you, and disposed of you. Lyney knew how loyal you were to your family. You would never betray them even at the cost of your own life, but in that moment, he really wished you would have treasured your life more. Maybe then you could have survived. Maybe then he would have had the chance to hold you in his arms and tell you he missed you while you were gone. Maybe he would have had an opportunity to show off the magic trick he created specifically for your eyes only. But now, he’ll continue to miss you until the day death comes for him too. Lyney’s initial reaction upon hearing of your torture is overwhelming fury. Lynette had to hold him back from recklessly running off to take revenge against the enemy. It took a lot of reasoning on her part, but eventually, her brother calmed down.

Once his bout of anger passed, Lyney broke down. Lynette didn’t hide her own tears as she held her brother in her arms while he cried. The siblings both missed you dearly and mourned your loss, but Lyney took your death especially hard. He felt broken. One of his most precious people was taken from him in such a cruel manner, and the mere thought of how you must have spent your last few waking hours made him feel horrible.

He was anguished and angry, and the potent concoction of negative emotions weighed down on his heart and mind. Gone was his cheerful smile and outgoing attitude, replaced with a cold and somber frown. His calculative side took center stage. Though his initial burst of outrage passed, he wouldn’t give up on his desire for revenge until the act had been carried out. Aside from the twins, Arlecchino also refused to take your death lying down. You were her precious child, someone she put in a lot of love and effort to raise, and this transgression angered her as much as it angered Lyney. Together with Arlecchino, Lyney and Lynette infiltrate enemy headquarters and make every person a part of that organization pay. The magician ensures that the perpetrators experience the same pain you went through during your torture, and by the time they’re done, not a soul is left alive.

Even after exacting revenge, Lyney barely feels a smidge better. Though your captors have been neutralized and won’t hurt anyone the way they hurt you ever again, it doesn’t satisfy Lyney. At the end of the day, all he wants is to have you back in his life. He consoles himself with pieces of your clothing. Your clothes smelled like you, and Lyney hugged one of your items every night, breathing in your scent and soaking the material with his tears as he quietly cried. It takes a long time for Lyney to get himself together and act like himself again. Though he could easily put on a fake smile for his audience, his heart still aches inside. He misses you no matter how many months go by, and Lynette has her hands full comforting him when he breaks down at night and cries about how much he wants to see you. Lyney would have had an easier time accepting your death if you had passed away more peacefully, but knowing you were tortured to death will forever haunt him.

Once he feels more like himself, Lyney incorporates the magic trick he originally wanted to show you upon your return into his magic shows. He only performs it during special occasions so it would leave a great spectacle upon his audience. It was once made to awe you, but now it awes his audience, and a part of him feels some semblance of catharsis in knowing he could inspire others to feel the same joy you made him feel using just this trick. At times like these, Lyney feels as if a part of you was still there with him, enjoying the show he secretly dedicates in your honor.

⚖️ Neuvillette

You were visiting your friend Navia in Poisson, when the Primordial Sea flooded the area and caused a great catastrophe that took the lives of many of its residents. Neuvillette was aware you were in Poisson when the disaster struck, and he tried to get there as quickly as he could to check on you. He would have arrived there immediately were it not for the pressing matters he had to settle prior. He hoped the Traveler and Paimon would find you and keep you safe since they knew you were the Iudex’s beloved.

When he finally made it to Poisson, to his morbid surprise, he found neither you nor Navia, but some Fatui members helping to mitigate the damage. When he asked about your whereabouts, he was told that nobody had seen you. Immediately, his thoughts ventured to the worst scenario, but he refused to believe in his fears until he could get confirmation. He held out hope that you were alright, and went in pursuit of Navia and the Traveler, hoping that maybe you were with them, or they knew what happened to you.

It wasn’t until he was saving Navia from getting dissolved in the Primordial Sea water, did he catch a glimpse of your face. You were trying to protect Navia from certain death, along with Silver and Meluse. At the time he was too anxious about saving Navia to fully register the implication, but an unsettling thought sprang in his mind that maybe you really were— No, he didn’t want to accept it.

When Navia regained consciousness, Neuvillette asked her about your whereabouts. Her answer pierced through him like an ice-cold lance. With tears in her eyes, Navia recounted how you were helping Silver and Meluse rescue the residents of Poisson when the Primordial Sea flooded in, and how she saw your body dissolve in the water along with her loyal subordinates with her own eyes. The news settled in Neuvillette’s stomach like a boulder, causing it to sink and make him feel nauseous. Dread filled him, but he could only muster a quiet “I see…” and stare off into the distance. He felt crushing sadness, but he wasn’t given time to properly process his emotions and your death until he managed to make it out of the ruins.

That evening, Fontaine was hit by a torrential downpour that lasted several days. The rain fell in heavy sheets, flooding the streets and urging most of the citizens to seek shelter in their homes. Only the Chief Justice had the gall to stand outside and let the rain seep and soak through his clothes.

Neuvillette let the water droplets cascade down his face, imitating the tears he wished to shed as the realization that he would never see you again settled in. It was strange. Though he was on land, each waking moment he was pursued by a constant feeling of drowning. His chest felt heavy as if burdened by a great weight that made each breath he took feel like a herculean task.

Neuvillette felt a lot of emotions he couldn’t find the words for. He was frustrated and angry that innocent civilians had died in the flood because nothing was done to prevent it. So many people died. You died. If nothing else, he wanted to get justice for your and the others’ deaths.

However, Furina refused to provide answers to his questions despite his probing and insistence that now was not the time to keep secrets that could potentially help prevent an even greater catastrophe. That was when he turned to seeking aid from his companions, in the hopes that Fontaine could still be saved. Neuvillette lost and gained many things in those few days. The citizens of Fontaine were freed of their curse, and Neuvillette had obtained a position of complete authority, however, it all came at the cost of the lives of innocent civilians, Focalors’s life, Furina’s mental state, and… your life. Those were great prices to pay, and Neuvillette mourned each and every sacrifice.

Now that he had some time to himself to process his feelings, Neuvillette recognized that what he felt was grief and longing. He wanted to see you at least one more time, to feel you in his arms again. To have you taken from him so suddenly was too painful. He never got to tell you one last ‘I love you’, and he could only hope that his words reach you wherever your consciousness might be now. Fontaine will see frequent rainfall in the coming months. It won’t be easy for Neuvillette to get over your death, and some part of him will always ache and yearn to see you again. But one thing he can do is strengthen his resolve to make Fontaine into a nation that both you and Focalors would be proud of. A nation where tragedies like these will never happen again.

🍃 Venti

Venti liked to climb up on high places like his statue in front of the Favonius church, the rooftop of the Cat’s Tail, or the great tree at Windrise. Today, you found him high up in the tree, absentmindedly strumming a new tune on his lyre. Wanting to surprise the bard, you tried your best to climb the tree as quietly as you could, but right as you were about to pop up and surprise him, the branch you were on snapped, and with a heart-stopping shriek, you plummeted down to the ground.

Your scream alerted Venti. He felt your presence before you even started climbing the tree, but he failed to foresee the danger until it was too late. He didn’t react fast enough to summon a gust of wind to safely lower you down. The sickening crunch of your skull hitting the ground made his stomach roil, and for a brief moment he felt as if the blood in his veins turned to ice. He felt frozen in place.

Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Venti rushed to your side to check on you, but the enormous pool of blood blooming around your lifeless body made him throw up.

Not again. He lost someone he loved once more. The painful emotions of losing you triggered a cascade of memories of seeing the broken body of that one boy he called a friend thousands of years ago. The same boy whose face he now wore as a way of honoring his memory and giving him an opportunity to live out his dreams of freedom through Venti.

Venti felt that same feeling of heavy emptiness once again as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, your blood smearing the white sleeves of his shirt. One of the bard’s hands cradled your still-warm cheek, and he wept. To have you taken away so easily through such a small accident… it was too much.

Venti didn’t attend your funeral. He couldn’t bear to. However, he forced himself to watch from a distance as your loved ones gathered around your grave. He fully empathized with their grief.

In the following days, one could often find Venti at a tavern. He started with Angel’s Share, but after consecutive days of heavy drinking and drunken ramblings about how remorseful he felt and how you deserved better, Diluc put a stop to Venti’s visits. The Anemo Archon wasn’t getting any better from drinking himself into a stupor until he could barely hold himself upright. It was heartbreaking to see.

Even after being banned from the Angel’s Share, Venti would visit other taverns in the city and rinse and repeat. He so badly wanted to numb the pain in his heart and forget the awful memory of your lifeless body. Only after several bans did Venti finally stop coming to the city altogether. He disappeared for a while, and nobody was able to find him. Only after many weeks did the bard suddenly pop up in the town square with his lyre in hand.

During his absence, Venti wrote a few songs as a way to cope with his grief, and after a while, finally felt well enough to play them. As a bard, he was well-known in Mondstadt for playing cheerful and beautiful tunes, but this time his melodies were melancholic, even sad. They listened to him sing about a love he can no longer say ‘I love you’ to anymore, someone he can no longer forge new memories with and can only carry on in his heart as a memory. The music he played captured the attention of every member of the audience and touched their hearts so deeply that they, too, could feel the sorrow the bard was trying to convey through his melodies. His pain became their pain, too. The heartache was so profound, so raw and crippling, that many people couldn’t hold back from crying.

Venti wasn’t playing the songs to earn money or share his sadness with others. He was playing them for you. He hoped that his feelings would reach you wherever you were and that your memory wouldn’t fade away even if he remained the last person alive who knew of your existence. His songs will keep your memory alive in the hearts of the Mondstadt citizens, never to be forgotten.

☂️ Wanderer

You have been fighting chronic sickness for months, but despite the treatments, each week you seemed to get worse and worse. Neither the doctors of Sumeru nor even Nahida herself could figure out a cure for your condition. You were bedridden with barely any strength to move. Wanderer took responsibility for nursing you back to health by helping you get to places you needed, cooking all your meals and feeding you, as well as getting your medicine and administering it.

Despite his efforts, you could tell you wouldn’t last long. While you still had the strength to talk, you apologized to him for being forced to part from him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, with a frown pulling at his lips. “Rather than talk about such nonsense, use that energy to get better instead.”

He didn’t want to face the facts, to accept the reality that you could disappear from his life. But then came a day where you no longer opened your eyes when he called your name, nor stirred when he tried to shake you awake. Your body was cold and stiff and so unlike what he was used to seeing you as. The life you possessed was gone in all senses of the word.

Something in Wanderer snapped that day. Falling to his knees, he let out a guttural scream that tore at his vocal cords. He unleashed a wail that carried all the anguish and misery he’d been keeping bottled up inside for hundreds of years. He’s lost so many people he cared for in the past. Each time he met someone he grew attached to, fate would always tear them away from him, and you were no exception.

He cried bitter tears in the privacy of your shared home, cursing Fate for doing this to him over and over again. He was angry and heartbroken. Though he lacked a real heart, the sensation in his chest felt like something inside him broke into a million tiny fragments. As if sharp needles pierced through his non-existent heart and caused him to scream until he lost his voice.

He wanted revenge, but how can one get vengeance against Fate itself?

You were gone, so cruelly torn away from his side despite his best efforts to keep you alive. You were the little ray of light that never gave up on him no matter how cold he was towards you or how much he pushed you away, and helped him heal little by little. You accepted him in his entirety and wormed your way into his non-existent heart, so how dare Fate mock him like this? Wanderer truly felt as if Fate was purposely torturing him by taking away all those whom he held dear.

Helpless and anguished, Wanderer reverted to the days when he used to be Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers who was infamous for his callousness and mercilessness. His roiling emotions spurred him to repeat these spiteful acts against anyone who got in his way. It was the only way he knew of how to vent these overwhelming emotions that made him feel like he was choking on his grief.

It took Nahida’s interference to calm him down and get through to him that you wouldn’t want him to be like this. The Wanderer you fell in love with wasn’t such a hateful person driven by negative emotions, and though he was loathe to admit it, the God of Wisdom was right.

Having quelled the initial burst of wounded anger, Wanderer would think more clearly about what he should do from now on. He could keep all your items, photographs, and letters, but they would never replace you, only help preserve some of the memories attached to them, which a puppet like him had no need for. He won’t forget even the smallest thing about you, not as long as he’s alive.

Wanderer becomes a regular visitor of your grave, taking care of it so your name won’t be erased from the gravestone by time too quickly. He would frequently bring your favorite foods and flowers and place them in front of your grave, before taking a seat next to it and staring off into the distance without saying a word. He did this mostly at night so he could stargaze, just like how you both used to when you were alive.

Even centuries later, when everyone who knew you took their memories of you to their graves, Wanderer will remain to watch over your final resting place, unwavering in his devotion.

🐺 Wriothesley

You accompanied Wriothesley on another one of his swims out in the open waters surrounding the Fortress. Since you weren’t a vision holder, you had to wear a diving suit to breathe, unlike your beloved Duke. You’ve had these private little swim dates a few times before, so your guard was down when you swam through some jagged areas of the Fortress’s scaffolding. The shoulder of your diving suit caught on a sharp edge of metal and tore a hole in it. The tear was fairly large, and you panicked when you felt water rush inside your suit. Wriothesley was quick to freeze the hole and pull you up to the surface to get the suit off of you, but by the time he did, it was too late. You had inhaled too much water and were unresponsive. Wriothesley tried to keep his anxiety at bay and utilized all the CPR knowledge he learned from Sigewinne to try and save your life. He breathed air into your lungs and did chest compressions with enough force to hear your ribs crack, but even after 30 agonizing minutes of trying, you wouldn’t wake up.

Wriothesley had no choice but to accept the fact you died. Wriothesley doesn’t cry for you. He’s no stranger to death. His exposure to it in his younger years made him all too aware of how easy it is to die, and that death came for all without exception. As a result, he was able to accept your death a little easier than most, but it doesn’t mean he made peace with it. The staff and inmates at the Fortress all said Wriothesley looked the same as usual even after your death. He kept up his laidback yet intimidating demeanor and busied himself with the variety of work someone in his position was required to take care of. Only Sigewinne could tell that Wriothesley was not alright despite all the strained smiles he gave everyone. The bags under his eyes grew more prominent by the day, a clear indicator he wasn’t sleeping well. She saw how he threw himself into his work, barely taking any time to rest properly, as if wanting to keep his mind busy from the horrible memory of seeing your corpse. Though he tried to mask it, in truth, your death affected Wriothesley deeply. He had frequent nightmares about watching you drown and being unable to save you, and they would keep him up at night. He usually awoke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding from intense panic and dread until his mind cleared, only to be replaced with a stone-cold reality that made the feelings of guilt come rushing back. Out of habit, he turns to your side of the bed to seek comfort in your presence but seeing it cold and empty served as yet another harsh reminder that you were gone. Wriothesley can’t sleep after his nightmares, so he opts to work out or fuss over his gauntlets to distract himself from his feelings. It takes all his self-control to keep a lid on his emotions and not become the angry, irritable mess he knows he will be if he’s not careful.

When he makes tea, Wriothesley accidentally makes two cups out of habit. One for you and one for him. Even weeks after your passing, it was still a difficult habit to break. For the first while, Wriothesley would even stop drinking your favorite tea blend because it reminded him of you. Rather than enjoy the flavor, all he tastes is bile in his throat. The flavor of your favorite tea makes him nauseous because it makes him think about how you will never taste this again or have another tea date in his office.

There was one occasion when he tried to drink your tea shortly after your death. He thought maybe the flavor would remind him of the happy times he shared with you, but all it resulted in was a broken teacup from the force of his grip, and Sigewinne fussing over his cuts and burns. He didn’t drink your favorite blend for a long time after that, only being able to find enjoyment in it again many years later when the startlingly clear memory of your death didn’t hurt him as much. Wriothesley felt lonely without you. You were the friend and confidant he told his deepest and darkest secrets about his past, the comfort he sought after a difficult day, and the soothing presence that made him feel accepted for who he was without all the embellished titles. But after your passing, the Fortress of Meropide seemed cold and gloomy, as if devoid of the warmth it once had that made him call it home. It was as if your death snuffed out the little ray of warm sunshine he felt when spending time with you.

[pearlywritings]

Sometimes the name doesn't matter

synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife.

pairings: Alhaitham, Ayato, Diluc, Kaeya x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, a little bit of bullying, a bit of unwelcome drunk flirting, characters are whipped for their wives

word count: 5.4k+ words

a/n: part 2 can be read here!

Alhaitham 

Your husband is… Truly something. Honestly, that's the best way to describe this epitome of nonchalance, smugness and sarcasm, sprinkled with sharp glares and served with a smartass sauce. No one would be able to swallow such a nasty pill, yet you somehow managed. But that's what doctors say, right? The medicine might be bitter, but it'll get better. And it did.

Hard to believe, but the Akademiya's Scribe is enamored by you - it took time to realize, many interactions for him to see that you do not rise annoyance in him, multiple times sharing the eye contact and hundreds of hours being your interlocutor to cognize the beauty of you, but when he fell - he fell hard, and the realization didn't make him feel repulsed. On the contrary, it brought him inexplicable peace, and, being an efficient and straightforward man he is, Alhaitham faced you the very next day and asked out on a date.

The rest is history. You dated, you moved in, you got married - the sequence your husband perfected in its briefness to be over with quickly anytime his colleagues or anyone asked about you and your relationship. You, of course, would give a more detailed summary to your friends, speaking of him so tenderly, always witnessing the same reaction - disbelief. And you get it where they come from - after all, your partner is known to not be the most cordial person. He prefers it that way though - he is bothered much less and can dedicate that free time to his lovely wife.

He makes it a point to not leave the house unnecessarily early, just exactly enough to get to his office on time, and same with finishing his work, bluntly rejecting anyone who tries to approach him with stuff. This way he doesn’t waste a second with you, quite on contrary, sometimes a couple of hours can be added, if you visit him during the afternoon to go grab lunch together, or enjoy the one you brought with you, and then rest somewhere in a private spot with your head on his shoulder, holding a bigger hand that is resting on your thigh, while his other one is occupied with a book. This is enough to power you both up to push through the rest of the day, and Alhaitham really appreciates it, never failing to give you a kiss on the lips and murmuring the soft words of reassurance, before parting your ways till the evening.

Today is one of those days when you find yourself in the House of Daena with a home-cooked lunch neatly wrapped and warm in your hands. A couple of librarians greet you on the way, knowing perfectly well who you are, and you smile at them. One older woman, who’s always been fond of your character, informs you that Alhaitham hasn’t left the Grand Sage’s office since the moment he arrived, and you thank her for going out of her way to reassure you that you will not need to search for him.

There’s another exchange of greetings at the bottom of an elevator and just seconds later you start ascending to the above of the huge library. The quiet whirling of mechanisms is calming and you hum softly to yourself, imagining that tender look in those light turquoise eyes, a rare shine in orange-ringed yellow pupils and a slight pull of thin lips upon seeing your figure and catching a whiff of food you brought. A content sigh escapes your chest and you prepare to soon step off the huge round platform.

But instead of catching a glimpse of your husband, you are met with sharp black eyes, staring at you and a scowl present on the face of a person you don't believe you've seen before, at least not long enough to remember. You blink in surprise, eyes darting to look at the man from head to toe - he is wearing the Akademiya’s robes, but there is no indicator to which Darshan he belongs to. A Matra perhaps? But you are used to seeing a completely different face of a scholar Alhaitham appointed as his secretary for the period of time he’d fulfill the role of an Acting Grand Sage. Panah has soft brown eyes, always nodding to you in a greeting and leaving upon your arrival if it is lunch time and his boss doesn’t instruct him to stay and carry on with his job, not minding you two.

This one practically glares at you, arms crossed and posture intimidating. You simply tilt your head in question, waiting for him to say something.

“Who allowed you to enter?”

The tone of his voice is pretty rude, and the gruff voice doesn't add grace to it. You are not one to judge someone by their looks - your husband is the proof of that, so you decide to brush it off and simply answer.

"Shohre of course, as usual."

“...as usual?” His brows furrow, and you get even more confused with the question. Is your husband having some kind of an impromptu inspection? He didn’t tell you anything about it in the morning, and since the Akasha got turned off, there is no simple way to warn you of it. 

"Is Alhaitham holding any meeting, perhaps?" You try, knowing it's absurd since he doesn't love his sweet lunch time being interrupted, but right now it's hard to find an explanation for this hostile-acting man's actions.

"You have so little respect for the Acting Great Sage?"

This time the booming edge in his words makes an echo in a pretty vast space and almost makes you flinch. The situation is escalating pretty quickly.

"Sir, I don't know who you are, but I do not believe I ever deserved such treatment from you. Would you be so kind to explain what's going on or at least let me see the Acting Great Sage-"

That must've sounded kind of sarcastic, because the man looks like he is ready to fume akin to a kettle.

"Who even are you!? Who do you think you are? Demanding a meeting like that - you must know his schedule is packed, so don't you assume that your pretty face would get you through-"

"Jahan, what is going on?" The "Jahan" shuts instantly upon hearing a deep, dripping with authority voice behind him. Your face instantly brightens when you spot the tall man approaching you two with his arms crossed and the most nonchalant expression etched in his features.

“We have an intruder, Sir.”

What in the Archon’s name- This is becoming ridiculous.

"An intruder?" He lifts his brow and glances at you, gaze lingering just for a few seconds longer. Then it returns to his subordinate. "I don't see one here."

"This woman," you move just in time not to have his index finger directly point you right in your face, "came here without prior appointment, not stating her purpose, not even stating her name!"

"Is that so?" You almost snort at how little Alhaitham cares for what this man has for an explanation, instead moving directly to you and taking a heavy lunch boxes from your hands, allowing your shoulders and arms to drop in relief.

“Her name is of no matter. All you need to know is that she is my wife.”

The room falls silent. The man stares at his boss with eyes so wide, you worry they’d pop out of his sockets. Your husband though doesn’t show any reaction to the stunned look on the man’s face, balancing all the containers in one hand, offering you the other, which you take with a smile.

"S-she what?"

"My wife. And she, along with the necessary descriptions, is literally the only person on the list of the people who are free to come and leave whenever. On the list Panah passed to you along with other instructions before taking his sick leave. Did you even skip through those?"

The tone of your husband is cold with a mocking edge, rubbing his subordinate’s incompetence in his face, and you don't need to look at the man to sense his panic.

"I-I, no of course I thoroughly looked through every single one, but I do not remember such paper, it must've been lost along the process-"

"It doesn't matter. Now you are aware. But there is one more thing you need to learn about my wife visiting."

"Yes, Sir?"

"You leave the moment she enters."

There is a momentary pause (you know Alhaitham is rolling his eyes inwardly at how slowly the notion seems to reach him), before Jahan snaps out of his stupor, slightly bows, mumbling something and quickly walks off to the elevator.

Not even waiting for the mechanism to start, your husband tugs on your hand and you take the hint, following him to the sofas and a table.

"What an imbecile," is murmured in annoyance and you finally chuckle, covering your mouth with a hand.

Your husband is truly something, but one thing is absolutely certain - his wife is the only person that really worths his nerves and time.

Ayato

Kamisato Ayato is a character of many admirable traits and worth-mentioning accomplishments, a great leader, an amazing big brother, a boss held in high regard, and a loving husband of three years to you. This last, but not the least, is Commissioner's favorite, and he makes sure to show it every opportunity present in his individual mischievous way.

You know he gets away with a lot of things, and for numerous reasons, ranging from being the head of the Yashiro Commission, to him being pretty unknown by face among the commoners due to Ayaka handling all the public affairs. This one in particular is harmless, but there is that little thing which drives you up the wall - he does it only when you are present, leaving you very flustered and with a fast beating heart.

"My name? Oh, I am a husband. This gorgeous woman's husband."

"Lord Kamisato? No need to be so formal with me, just call me her husband."

"'Kamisato Ayato' and all my titles are so long to write down, can't I sign it with 'Y/n's hubby' instead?"

"Kamisato Y/n's husband. That's who I am."

"Ayaka, have you forgotten? No more calling me 'big brother', only 'Y/n's husband- Stop laughing, I am serious!"

The last one is literally happening right before your eyes, with the younger sibling hiding her smile and suppressing her giggles behind her intricately decorated fan, as the older one has taken his glove off, wiggling his fingers to show the glistening golden band wrapped around one of them. You, on the other hand, are trying to cover your heated face with a stack of papers you picked when Ayaka entered the office and addressed her big brother as, well, big brother. Peeking above the filled with reports sheets you catch a sly smile playing on Ayato's lips, while his usually piercing eyes reflect the special kind of adoration he holds for you.

You know why he is doing this - the man fought hard for your heart and then hand in marriage, and since it is now a reality, he absolutely keens on that "I am your husband" notion. Sometimes it's a perfect ice breaker in introducing you two to new people, sometimes it's a reason for an eye roll (yours as well), at times it puts people in stupor which Ayato uses to his advantage, but there is always only one initial thought behind every single one of them - showing the world he is proud to be your partner with a label "husband" on it.

And this sentiment is fully returned! However you never had an opportunity to do the same - he always beats you to it, and leaves bashful long enough for the moment to become wasted. You know you can always talk it through with him and he’d be more than happy to give you a chance, but, after all these times he left you speechless, it’s simply a matter of pride to pay him back. Besides… You really-really want to see his reaction if you told someone important those words. 

That you are his wife.

You hear a soft knock on the living room’s door where you and Ayato are sitting next to each other at one side of the low table.

“Lord and Lady Kamisato, the guests have arrived.”

“Wonderful, please let them in.”

The man notices your elation upon hearing those words and smiles to himself - your friends from another nation, whom you haven’t seen properly in ages, finally managed to reach the coasts of Inazuma and seek a meeting to reconnect with you and also meet your mysterious husband you’ve written and praised so much in your letters.

The scene is heartwarming. Two girls around your age are tightly hugging you with excited squeals while the man that came in together with them, patiently waits to be introduced. Ayato follows his example, watching your grinning face, filing away every single detail about it - the sparkles in your eyes, the rosiness of your cheeks, that adorable wrinkling of your nose when the girls say something cheesy, and the pure happiness written all over your visage.

“Oh, Y/n, it’s so nice to see you again after so long! So much happened…”

“Yes! We totally should discuss every single event! But I offer to start by introducing us and our husbands.”

“One of you got married?” You ask surprised. “I know that only one of you got recently engaged-”

“Me! But the wedding is so soon, that I already call him my husband, hehe. Oh, we brought the wedding invitation for you and your husband as well, I hope you two will make it!”

“Girls, girls, let’s calm down,” you laugh, pausing them and gesturing to the two men silently observing you - both pairs of eyes shining with admiration. “Ayato, my dear, I want you to meet my friends I’ve told you so much about…”

Your husband hears familiar names, ones he’s remembered long ago, and nods in recognition, offering each a kiss on the back of their hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet people my beloved holds in high regard.”

“Likewise,” they giggle, giving you teasing looks about how gentlemanly your spouse is, and you roll your eyes, but a smile tugging on your lips doesn’t go unnoticed.

“And I’ll take an opportunity to introduce our companion,” one of the women says, stepping closer to her fiance and offering everyone his name and a slight description of his field of work, to which Ayato hums with interest.

“And these,” your other friend gestures to you and your husband, “are Kamisato Ayato and-”

“Wife.”

Everyone falls silent and looks at you with confusion. You yourself are stunned, eyes slightly widened and heart skipping a beat. The word really just flew out of your mouth faster when you could think about it.

“Excuse me?” Your friend gapes at you, and suddenly it clicks. This spontaneous reaction, caused by your unspoken desire, presents you with a perfect opportunity. You finally can get “revenge” on your husband.

“That’s what I said, sweety,” with a smirk and boosting confidence you glance at Ayato and meet his lilac eyes, staring at you with a hint of amusement. “I am this marvelous man’s wife. You know, 'Kamisato Y/n' is way too long to pronounce. So, maybe just a wife instead?”

The silence reigns again, with the three of your guests clearly being in stupor and your husband observing you with an unreadable expression. But suddenly he laughs. Joyfully and sincerely, it plucks on the strings of your crazily beating heart. Instantly there are arms wrapping around your waist and lips pressed against your temple, and you can feel the smile he hides in your hair.

“Yes, that’s right… This remarkable woman is my wife. Most incredible and lovely wife.”

Turning your head slightly you manage to catch a soft blush dusting his porcelain skin, before he faces away from you. Oh Archons, he loves it and he is bashful!

As you fully turn in his embrace and start teasing him, loud enough for only the man to hear (you are not that cruel to embarrass him in front of people), your guests' existence is forgotten for a moment. Both girls sigh and look at the completely lost man, whose hand his future wife takes and rubs a thumb over his knuckles.

“Ah… Please, don’t mind that. She always had a strange sense of humor, and it seems that her husband only enabled it.”

That is true, but you look genuinely happy, so they can bear a week of occasional cringing.

Diluc

The annual harvest celebration has been a tradition in the Ragnvindr family for as long as the Dawn Winery existed. When Master Crepus was alive, it was hosted in the grand mansion with spacious halls and intricately decorated staircases, the one Diluc used to call his home. Guests would gather, wine bars would be uncorked and red liquid fill dozens of glasses, as he and Kaeya would curiously watch the adults interact, sneaking out of their rooms to spy from the hiding spots they knew so well.

But not anymore. Gone were the days of careless happiness he calls the past now, gone his father, gone the mansion, and gone his desire for active social interaction. It's been some years since his return and the sale of the mansion in attempts to run away from said past. The celebration came to a stop for as long as he was gone and then while he tended to re-establishing the business after arrival.

The Dawn Winery, despite all the maids and winemakers, would become so quiet. And it's not like he stayed there for long too - he was always somewhere, preoccupied by something.

That is until his life was shaken and turned upside down, and all by the hands of one single person. The person, who brought light back to his dark crimson eyes, who made him stop and think about how he can not just exist, but live, and happily so, waiting for every opportunity possible to be in the loving presence; the person who brought out that part of him he buried deep down in his graveyard of a soul, and gave it freedom to be again. The home actually started feeling like one, not a building he had a study and a bedroom in, but a place he could share with another, basking in the long-forgotten sensations, having his heart dance jigs and face soften in a tender gaze.

Many changes occurred, and, with some encouragement, he decided to bring back the tradition his father held in high regard, with only his sons' birthdays being more important to the late wine master.

The Winery is not as big as the family mansion used to be, but it is still enough space, with some of the furniture moved and the floor cleared, it can host many people. Besides, there is always a lovely outside with benches, and tables, and chairs, and it seems that Barbatos is kind to you, sending delightful weather as his gift.

Diluc is not a fan of social gatherings, however, he couldn't help but feel giddy when Adelinde exclaimed in elation at the prospect, be rather content when he saw happy smiles of the citizens - it's been a while since any proper celebration, and the monster rampage last month has been keeping everyone in a gloomy mood, and most importantly - he couldn't betray the trust and confidence his wife put into him.

…right. His wife. The ending to his reputation of the most eligible bachelor (not like he ever cared for the title), and the talk of the town for the past couple of weeks. Diluc Ragnvindr is a rather private man, and upon mutual agreement the wedding was private as well, with only few attending, and those few knew how to keep their mouths shut till the right time came. Or not, since one Cavalry Captain loves getting on the redhead's nerves and spilling some beans to the people who are willing to listen, and then not saying another word to create an intrigue.

So yes, this celebration is also a way to finally introduce the owner of the Dawn Winery's wife to the public, and put an end to all the speculations and maybe seal some lips that spew hatred towards the 'lucky woman', and there are a number of those.

You haven't been taking your eyes off the small group of nobles, standing almost in the middle of the first floor hall, loudly discussing the matter, inevitably drawing the attention of the ones not involved in the conversation, but standing rather close to them.

"I am telling you, she must be some dirty little thing, seducing our poor Master Diluc," the raven-haired tall man claims, elegantly holding a glass of dandelion wine in his long fingers. With his white and black clothes he reminds you of a dalmatian. Barking is almost identical too.

"You are right! She must be some commoner, too ashamed to show her face. If she was of a noble origin, the wedding would be grand and public," ah, and this bear-like looking man… you remember him - he was very active in trying to arrange a marriage of a very uninterested Diluc and his 17-year old daughter. You almost grimace at the thought.

"Oh yes! And we all know, that such well-known and ancient family as Ragnvindrs ought to have one of the noble daughters getting married into it," it is the first time you see this dramatically dressed woman, but even so you would've doubled in boisterous laughter if not the pretty dress Adelinde helped you lace an hour ago, that could potentially be ruined with the drink in your own glass.

You will yourself to tune them off for a moment and check on other guests. It quickly becomes clear that this conversation makes them uncomfortable. Some manage to entertain you though, by making fun of those nobles, parodying the pompous manner of their talking and snickering at that. 

Nevertheless, one shall put an end to this idiocy.

"Afternoon, good sirs and ma'ams," the group direct their gazes at you, approaching them with a polite smile and a glass absent from your hand. "I've caught pieces of your conversation earlier, and couldn't help, but feel concerned."

The derogatory gaze the woman throws your way doesn't go unnoticed, but you simply choose to ignore it.

"Is that so?" The 'Dalmatian' hums, as if condescendingly. "Are you worried about Master Diluc as well, young lady? Such compassion is admirable."

"Oh, I hardly worry about Diluc," some eyes widen at your lack of his title acknowledgement, but you once again ignore it. "I am concerned about you. You know it's bad manners to berate a person in their own house? I'd really advise you to stop talking, especially about the matter you seem to know nothing about. Not to make bigger fools of yourselves at least."

"How dare you-" the woman you haven't heard talking before, but saw her nodding a lot, with those huge feathers in her hair waving with each tilt of her head, starts gasping because of your 'insult'. "How dare you speak to us like that! A servant must stay silent until asked to open their mouth!"

"I am not a servant here, nor anywhere else," the assumption doesn't surprise you, since all the maids were allowed to wear pretty outfits even while doing their job - after all it was a celebration honoring them as well, they help the Winery keep running.

"When who in the Archon's name are you-?"

"Y/n Ragnvindr," a deep soothing voice rings behind you, so loud and clear, that it immediately shuts all the sounds in the room. 

Your lips curl in a wider smile, all the while holding the bewildered gaze of the woman who decided to pick a fight with you.

"Yes, dear?" His chest is now against your back and a hand, clad in a white glove, reaches for yours. "Are you done with welcoming our partners from Liyue?"

"Of course," the back of your hand is brought to his lips to leave a chaste kiss there, and only then you turn your head and catch a dangerous glint in those blood-colored eyes. He is pissed, but neutral face hardly betrays him. "I see we have a problem here."

"Mhm," you hum, not letting go of his hand and looking back at the tensed individuals, who were bad-mouthing you just minutes ago. "It surely isn't how we planned to reveal our marriage, but the situation called for it, I suppose."

"L-lady Ragnvindr, we didn't know-"

"Can these people be escorted out?" Your question interrupts her harshly, making her flinch. "They disturb other guests, and clearly do not know basic rules of respect."

"My dear wife," you can practically feel menace radiating off of his body, and voice dripping with smugness, "no need to ask me. That's your house as much as it's mine, and you contributed so much into organizing this event. So don't be shy to make your own decision."

"Well then," your smile gets even sweeter, contrary to your eyes that burn holes in their distasteful figures, "Get out."

Kaeya

"Hey pretty tits, hic! Argh, you come here often?"

You wouldn't think that a question like this was addressed to you, if the heavily smelling of alcohol man wasn't occupying the bar stool to your right, leaning forward in your direction. You slightly turn your head and suspiciously watch the swinging glass in his trembling hand, half full and threatening to spill the dark liquid. He really had too much tonight.

"...was that supposed to be a compliment?" 

Leaning back to avoid any unfortunate outcome, you give him an unamused look, finished with an arched brow. From the corner of your eye you can't help but notice Charles staring at the man. It is nice to know your good acquaintance doesn't ignore the possible trouble a drunkard can cause another customer.

But you can handle it.

"It was!" He exclaims so happily, childishly proud that you acknowledged the fact. Should you tell him he sucks at it? And that there is only one man whose drunk flirty compliments you'll ever accept, and even in a state like that he would manage to be good, putting a smile on your face? Right now though, the urge to grimace is stronger.

"...thanks," I suppose?. "And yes, I come here often to spend the evening with my partner."

At that his face visibly falls and you turn away, assuming it is enough to cut the conversation short, and concentrate on savoring your first drink of the evening. You ordered it while waiting for one particular Cavalry Captain, and even though it's not strange for him to come later due to astronomically fast piling up paperwork, today he seems to be particularly busy. Maybe you should purchase a bottle and come to his quarters?

Just before you could do just that, there is a hand sliding over your right hip and a hot breath caressing the shell of your ear. You don't even flinch or freeze, recognizing the alluring presence immediately and leaning back into the firmness of his chest.

"You are late, Kaeya."

A soft chuckle and a kiss to the temple make it pretty clear that the azure-haired man cracked your fake rebuke on the spot, knowing that you are not one bit angry at him, but actually really happy to finally have him here.

"I apologize, princess," another kiss, this time to your cheek, "work's been a bit tough. But I am glad to finally be here with my woman."

"Youuurr?"

Ah, you completely forgot about the drunkard to your right.

Turning to look at Kaeya's reaction, you are stricken by the star-shaped pupil gazing right at you - he hasn't even glanced in the other man's direction, instead fixated on you completely. And that is making wonders to your poor heart.

"Who's that, snowflake?" His tone holds curiosity, but you know your lover, and you know when he is ready to be an ass. You shouldn't encourage this, however…

You'd love to see Kaeya Alberich tell the suitor off for you.

"No idea. But he said I have pretty tits."

He hums at that.

"True, but I would've aimed for that delicious butt. I am a simple man, after all."

You barely slap his hand in time, not nearly as drunk to start touching each other right here and right now. At your jab in his ribs he simply laughs heartily, settling his palm back onto your hip and momentarily redirecting his attention to the troublemaker who's been staring at you two throughout the whole exchange.

"You are not from here, are you?"

Only when your lover says that, do you decide to take in the other man's appearance. Indeed, if you were to look longer at him (not like you were interested) it would be easy to guess Fontaine as his land of origin.

"And what?" He straightens his back and puffs his chest as if trying to intimidate. What a rooster. "Does it prevent me from pursuing a pretty woman from another region?"

Oh, so now it's not simply one flirting remark, but a full-blown pursuit? How troublesome.

"Oh no, no, of course not," honey is dripping off those pretty lips, pulled into a smirk. "It's just that otherwise you'd know it's a bad tone to hit on someone's ex-girlfriend."

Confusion appears on the pursuer's face and you look inquiringly at Kaeya as well. The only answer you get is a wink and a mouthed request to order him a drink. Still perplexed, you nevertheless turn to Charles and ask him to make the Cavalry Captain the usual. 

Meanwhile the man pulls his thoughts together.

"It's stupid! If she is your ex, then how does it not give me the right to date her? Ridiculous. Why do you even hold her like that!?"

The shouting gathers attention from other patrons - some were invested almost from the beginning, seeing how that unknown man tried to make a move on you, and snickering behind their mugs of alcohol at his unawareness of your relationship. 

And Kaeya is all for the show. Many eyes watch as an elegant hand wraps around the glass of his favorite drink and brings it to the silent lips. It feels like everyone stopped breathing and the silence is pressuring, like a string ready to snap and reveal some shocking truth. You, on the other hand, roll your eyes at the male's love for theatrics and put an elbow onto the counter and lean your cheek into your open palm. This is going to be crushing, you almost feel sorry for the guy.

When the Cavalry Captain takes the third sip and sighs in delight - then, and only then, - he looks dead into the other man's eyes, so oppressively that he shrinks under the weight of this cold gaze.

"Maybe because she is my wife?"

If it was physically possible, the drunkard's jaw would hit the floor. The glass, he's been holding just seconds ago, however, follows its destiny, breaking from the impact with floorboards and ruining the prolonged silence and earning a grunt from the barman.

"S-she's what?"

"His wife," you raise your hand and show the ring, getting quite tired and wanting to save at least some of this man's dignity. "So, if you could, please, let us two have our date night. Uninterrupted."

Finally it seems to have him sobered up a little and he starts profusely apologizing to you, to Kaeya, to Charles, to Barbatos and Focalors, while digging his porch with mora out to pay for his drinks and minor damage he caused.

When he stumbles outside and the other patrons stop following the drama, you turn to a contently sipping on his wine Kaeya, who is excelling the nastiest grin on his face.

"Ex-girlfriend? Seriously? That's how you call your wife now?"

"Well, technically I am not wrong, right? Since you are not my girlfriend anymore," he shrugs his shoulders, finishing the last few gulps and putting the glass back onto the counter. 

"Then the next time we meet new people I will introduce you as my ex-boyfriend. What? Technically you are," having his own words being thrown into his face makes Kaeya laugh, and he hugs you tightly, kissing the corner of your mouth.

"Deal. But only once, to make it even. I enjoy being called your husband way more."

[doumadono]

Bakugo being a porn streamer (for Sinful Sunday)

Warnings: smut with plot, rough smut, pussy fingering and eating, cunnilingus, missionary, creampie, fem!reader, male masturbation, squirting, public sex, only fans & pornhub mentions, porn stream, Bakugo has OnlyFans account

A/N: this request got the second highest number of votes during the Sinful Sunday poll I held over a week ago. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

The cityscape glowed like a thousand gems scattered across a dark velvet blanket, each light a testament to the life teeming below. 

Katsuki Bakugo strode through the bustling streets, the remnants of his patrol echoing in the satisfied murmurs of bystanders he had saved earlier. His fiery eyes scanned the horizon, mind already drifting to the solace awaiting him at home.

Reaching the sleek, modern building that housed his penthouse, Bakugo nodded curtly to the doorman and made his way to the private elevator. As the doors closed, he allowed a small, rare smile to touch his lips. 

It had been a good day — no major catastrophes, no near-death experiences. Just another day of being the best hero the world had ever seen.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached the top floor. 

Bakugo stepped into his luxurious apartment, the space a perfect blend of modernity and comfort. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city, and plush furnishings invited him to relax. He shed his hero gear with practiced efficiency, revealing the chiseled body beneath — one that had become almost as famous as his explosive quirk.

Padding barefoot across the cool hardwood floors, Bakugo headed to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He took a long drink, his thoughts wandering to his evening plans. 

It had started as a joke, really — a whim born from boredom and pure curiosity. One night, he had filmed himself getting off, his muscular body glistening with sweat, his deep, guttural moans echoing in the silent room. On a lark, he had uploaded the video to his old Pornhub, expecting nothing in particular.

To his surprise, the video had gone viral. Within days, he had amassed thousands of fans, all clamoring for more. At first, Bakugo was amused. Then intrigued. And finally, he saw an opportunity. He was a hot man — he knew that. And if people wanted to watch him, if it made them happy and he enjoyed it too, then why not?

With the success of his initial video, Bakugo had created an OnlyFans account, eager to capitalize on his newfound popularity. It had been an instant hit. Fans flocked to his page, eager to pay for the privilege of seeing him in more intimate, exclusive settings. The subscriptions rolled in, and Bakugo found himself enjoying the attention, the adoration. It was a different kind of thrill, but a thrill nonetheless.

Bakugo set the water bottle down and made his way to his bedroom. The room was dominated by a large, king-sized bed draped in dark, luxurious linens. A camera was set up on a tripod in one corner, pointed directly at the bed. He moved with confidence, stripping off his clothes and tossing them aside. Naked, he admired his reflection in the full-length mirror. His body was a testament to years of rigorous training — every muscle defined, every inch a work of art.

With practiced ease, Bakugo positioned himself on the bed, adjusting the camera angle until he was satisfied. He grabbed a small remote from the nightstand and turned on the camera. The red light blinked to life, and he took a deep breath, letting the anticipation build. This was his stage, his audience waiting eagerly on the other side of the screen.

He opened his laptop, navigating to his OnlyFans account. With a few clicks, he started a live stream, watching as the viewer count began to climb rapidly. The chat box exploded with messages, fans greeting him eagerly, their excitement palpable even through the screen.

"Hey, fucking perverts," he greeted, his voice low and rough, tinged with the cocky confidence that had made him a hero. "It's your favorite pro hero, back for another round."

He ran a hand down his chest, fingers tracing the hard lines of his abs. He knew exactly what his fans wanted, what they craved. And he was more than happy to give it to them. His hand continued its descent, skimming over the taut skin until it reached his cock. Already semi-hard, it twitched in his grasp, responding to his touch.

Bakugo leaned back against the pillows, spreading his legs slightly to give the camera a better view. He stroked himself slowly at first, his grip firm but teasing. He knew how to build the anticipation, how to draw it out until he was practically vibrating with need. "You like what you see?" he growled, eyes locked on the camera as if he could see his fans watching. "Bet you wish you could touch me, huh? Feel how hard I am for you, little perverts?"

The chat box lit up with eager responses, fans egging him on, praising his body, his performance.

God, you're so hot!

I've been waiting all day for this.

Take it slow, Dynamight, make it last!

His eyes scanned the comments, searching for one particular username: sweet_daisyxxx. Amid the flood of adoring messages, he spotted it.

sweet_daisyxxx: You look amazing tonight, Katsuki

A rush of heat surged through him at the sight of your comment. He smirked, a new surge of energy coursing through him. His hand moved faster, strokes becoming more insistent. Pleasure coiled in his belly, hot and demanding. He was stroking his cock from base to tip, picturing you moaning his name. 

For Bakugo, starting an OnlyFans account had been a natural progression from his initial success on Pornhub. He'd always had a hard time settling down, despite his status as a pro hero and his undeniable attractiveness. His standards were high — too high, perhaps — and no woman had ever met all his requirements. His relationships invariably ended in one-night stands, fleeting and unsatisfying.

He had begun to find solace in the digital realm, exploring the myriad of content creators on OnlyFans. He followed the accounts of the girls he found hot, drawn to their beauty and charisma. It was a distraction, an addiction of sorts, but one he didn't mind. It filled a void that real-life encounters couldn't, offering a tantalizing escape from the pressures of heroism.

Then he came across your account. It was different from the rest. Yes, you were a camgirl yourself, you had a beautiful body, a captivating presence, but what set you apart was your approach. You didn't reveal everything, always touching yourself through the thin material of your lacy panties, always keeping your face off the camera, maintaining an air of mystery and intrigue while you played with yourself. Your streams were a mix of sensuality and intellect as you were trying to engage your small but dedicated follower count in discussions about literature, history, fashion, and the changing world. You were a tease, undoubtedly, but it was your depth that held him captive. Bakugo lingered on your page longer than he intended, entranced by your intelligence and charm. Your body was a work of art, but it was your mind that ensnared him. Not to mention you happened to be his biggest fan.

sweet_daisyxxx: Those muscles look even better up close. You're incredible, Katsuki

His eyes flicked back to the chat, watching as your other comments rolled in. 

sweet_daisyxxx: That growl you made just now? So hoooot, oh Gosh... Don't stop

Bakugo was incredibly turned on, imagining the taste and feel of licking your cunny. Even though he had never truly seen your pussy, the lingerie you wore on your streams left little to the imagination, perfectly outlining the curves of your folds. He couldn't help but think your pussy must be the prettiest one. What sounds would you make riding his tongue? Where would you want him to cum? On your face? Mouth? Tits? Maybe you would want him to save it for your pussy?

sweet_daisyxxx: Wish I could be there to touch you, feel every inch of you

His breath hitched, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through his body. He could feel himself getting close, the familiar tension building with every stroke. His fans loved it when he talked dirty, loved the way he lost control on camera. And tonight, he was more than willing to give them a show. "Shit, I'm so close," he groaned, head falling back against the pillows. "You want to see me come undone, don't you? You want to watch me lose it for you?" His hips thrust faster into his rough palm.

He worked on his dick energetically, holding his balls tight in his free hand, squeezing them from time to time. He moaned from the pleasure radiating from his throbbing dick. He could almost hear his fans' reactions, the collective intake of breath, the eager anticipation. And that thought pushed him over the edge. With a final, desperate thrust, he came, his seed hot and sticky over his hand and stomach. It gushed and bubbled through the wet tip of his throbbing dick, leaving a slick trail on his toned abs as he continued to thrust into his clenched fist. Spurt, spurt. The sensation seemed endless. Katsuki's breath hitched with relief, and his hips finally began to slow. Though his balls were drained, they kept clenching, desperate to empty every last drop of his cum. His head rolled back, mouth hanging open as he panted through the final throes of one of the strongest orgasms of his life.

sweet_daisyxxx: Yes, Katsuki, just like that. So hot. You're perfect

Bakugo lay there for a moment, chest heaving, heart pounding. He let the camera capture every second, every twitch of aftershock. When he finally moved, it was with a lazy, satisfied grin. He reached for a towel and cleaned himself up, his eyes never leaving the camera.

But even in the haze of post-orgasmic bliss, Bakugo’s crimson eyes returned to the chat, seeking your username again.

sweet_daisyxxx: That was incredible, Mr Pro Hero. Can't wait for next time ♥

He smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction beyond the physical release. You were more than just another fan. And you intrigued him.

"Hope you enjoyed the show," he said, voice still husky with the remnants of pleasure, his words directed toward you from all of his fans. "I'll see you next time."

He ended the live stream and lay back against the pillows, a sense of contentment settling over him. This was his life — a hero by day, a star of OnlyFans by night. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Bakugo lay back against the pillows, his body still thrumming with the afterglow of release. The chat window on his laptop blinked out, and he reached over to close it, his thoughts already drifting to the next interaction he craved. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, his fingers moving with practiced ease as he navigated to his messages.

He found your name quickly — sweet_daisyxxx. 

Your conversations had become a regular part of his routine, an escape from the relentless demands of hero work and the empty satisfaction of countless one-night stands. With you, it was different. You talked about things that mattered, things that challenged his mind and made him feel alive in ways he hadn't expected.

Horny_Dynamight: Wanna FaceTime?

There was a brief pause before your response came in.

sweet_daisyxxx: m’kay, give me a min

He waited, the seconds ticking by with a tense anticipation. Finally, his phone buzzed with the incoming call. He accepted, and your face filled the screen, your eyes bright with excitement.

You were seated in your gamer chair, the fitted black tank top you wore accentuating your curves. Your earbuds were in, and as you settled into the call, Bakugo couldn't stop his eyes from drifting downward, where the neckline of your top revealed the top of your beautiful breasts. The soft swell of your cleavage was tantalizing, and he felt a familiar heat stir within him.

"Hey, handsome," you greeted, your voice steady despite the underlying tension.

"Hey, hottie," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "So, how'd you really like the stream?"

You bit your lip, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "It was amazing, Katsuki. You looked incredible. And the way you touched yourself… It was so hot."

His smirk widened. "Glad you think so." He paused, studying your face, the way your eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I was thinking, would ya like to join my next stream?"

You blinked, taken aback. "Join? How?"

He didn't hesitate, his response blunt and to the point. "For some nice fucking."

Your eyes widened, shock and excitement warring for dominance on your face. "Are you serious, Kats? I think I’m far outta your league…"

"Dead serious," he confirmed, his gaze never wavering. "We've been dancing around this for way too long. I want you on my stream. With me. In every way, Y/N. I can’t stop thinking about ya, for fuck’s sake."

You stared at him, the silence stretching out as you processed his proposition. 

He wondered if he had pushed too far, if maybe he had read the situation wrong. 

But then, your expression shifted, a slow smile spreading across your face. "Okay," you said softly. "When?"

His heart leaped, a fierce grin spreading across his face. He hadn't expected you to agree so quickly, but then again, you had always surprised him. "Tomorrow night. Same time. My place."

"Ok, but you’ll have to pick me up," you replied with a slight shrug of your shoulders.

When you finally hung up, Bakugo felt a sense of satisfaction settle over him. Tomorrow night would be a game-changer, a step into new territory that he was eager to explore. With you.

The next day, Bakugo's routine went by in a haze of expectation. His patrols were efficient but mechanical, his thoughts constantly returning to the evening ahead. He had spent the day thinking about it, every spare moment filled with thoughts of you, of finally meeting the person who had occupied his thoughts for so long. Katsuki pushed himself harder in the gym, needing the physical exertion to keep his mind from spiraling into endless scenarios of what might happen. 

When the day finally drew to a close, he found himself back in his apartment, preparing for what felt like both a stream and a date. He made sure everything was perfect — the camera angles, the lighting, the room itself. And then, he drove to pick you up from the mall you set up as a meeting place.

Bakugo's heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nerves as he drove to the mall. This was the first time he was going to see you in real life, and the anticipation was almost too much to bear. 

He pulled into the parking lot, finding a spot near the entrance. As he stepped out of the car, he adjusted his black, leather jacket, trying to look as casual as possible despite the literal butterflies in his stomach. He scanned the crowd, looking for you, knowing you would stand out even among the bustling shoppers.

And there you were, waiting near the fountain in the center of the plaza. You wore a girly white summer dress with a delicate floral motif, the fabric swaying gently with the breeze. Your white sneakers added a touch of casual charm to your appearance. As you spotted him, your face lit up with a bright smile, and your cheeks turned slightly pink with a blush.

Bakugo made his way over to you, his heart pounding harder with each step. When he finally stood in front of you, he could hardly believe it. You were even more beautiful in person. "Hey," he said after clearing his throat, his voice coming out rougher than he intended.

"Hey, Katsuki," you replied, your voice soft and filled with excitement. "It's so good to finally see you in person, Mr Dynamight.”

He nodded, his eyes taking in every detail of you, from the way your dress clung to your figure to the sparkle in your eyes. "Yeah, it is."

There was a moment of silence as the two of you took each other in, the reality of the moment sinking in. Then, with a smirk, Bakugo extended his hand. "Ready to get out of here?"

"Absolutely,” you replied, taking his palm as if you two were a real couple.

He led you to his car, opening the door for you before getting in himself. 

As he drove, the conversation flowed easily, just like it did during your calls. You talked about everything and nothing, the comfort between you growing with each passing mile.

Bakugo couldn't help but steal glances at you as he drove. The way your dress highlighted all of your curves, the way the sun caught your hair, the way your laughter filled the car with warmth — it was all purely intoxicating. He reached over, his rough, large hand resting on your thigh. 

You glanced at him, a playful smile on your lips. "Can't keep your hands to yourself, huh?"

He smirked, his grip tightening slightly. "Nope. And I don't plan to, sweet doll."

His touch was firm, possessive, his fingers occasionally squeezing gently and brushing your soft skin as he navigated the streets. Every time his hand moved, it sent a shiver of anticipation through you, the promise of what was to come making your heart race.

Finally, you arrived at his apartment. Bakugo parked and turned to you, his expression serious. "You sure you're okay with this?"

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "More than okay, Katsuki. I've been looking forward to this, actually. I just… It’s been a while since…”

“Hush, no worries, I’ll be gentle,” he whispered softly, reaching his hand out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing slightly against your lower lip as he gazed into your eyes. With a nod, he led you inside the apartment. 

The moment the door closed behind you, the atmosphere shifted. The tension that had been building all day exploded into action. 

Bakugo reached for you, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you fiercely, all the pent-up desire pouring into that single moment.

You responded immediately, your arms wrapping around his neck as you kissed him back with equal fervor. 

Your bodies pressed tightly together. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the raw need in his touch.

Bakugo's hands roamed down your sides, pulling you even closer until there was no space between you. 

You could feel the hardness growing in his pants, pressing insistently against your lower abdomen as he pushed you on the nearest wall. 

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this." His hands moved to your waist, lifting you effortlessly as he walked towards the bedroom with you in his arms.

You wrapped your legs around him, the movement causing the bulge in his pants to press even more firmly against your clothed pussy. The friction made you moan, the sound driving him wild.

Bakugo kicked the bedroom door open, setting you down on the edge of the bed. He stepped back for a moment, his eyes raking over you with a look of pure hunger. "You look so fucking good," he said, his voice low and rough.

You blushed, but there was a playful glint in your eyes as you whispered teasingly, "Why don't you come over here and show me just how good?"

With a growl of satisfaction, Bakugo was on you in an instant, his mouth capturing yours once more. His hands moved with purpose, slipping under your dress to caress your soft skin. He paused, taking in the sight of you in your underwear. "Beautiful," he murmured, his hands tracing the curves of your body.

You got up and reached for him, pulling his leather jacket off and tossing it aside before working on the buttons of his shirt. His skin was warm and firm under your touch, the muscles rippling as you pushed the fabric off his shoulders. He helped you, impatient to feel your hands on him.

Once his shirt was off, you traced your fingers over his chest, marveling at the hard lines and defined muscles. "You're incredible, Katsuki," you said softly, your eyes meeting his.

He grinned, his hands moving to unbutton his pants. "You haven't seen anything yet."

As his pants hit the floor, your eyes were drawn to the impressive bulge pressing against his underwear. He moved closer, his lips locking with yours in a searing kiss while his body pressed tightly against yours. The feel of his firmness against you, combined with the fervor of his kiss, left your head reeling.

Bakugo murmured, "You know what I want to show on the stream?"

You shivered at the rough timbre of his voice. "What?"

"Mostly eating you out," he growled, his hand moving to caress your inner thigh, "and fucking you until you can't think straight."

Your breath hitched, the bluntness of his words sending a jolt of arousal straight to your core. “Are… Are you sure?" you asked, your voice trembling with anticipation.

"Yeah," he said, his eyes dark with desire. "I want everyone to see how good you can make me feel. How much we both want it."

You swallowed hard, the intensity of his gaze making you feel like you were burning from the inside out. "Katsuki..."

He kissed you again, hard and possessive. "So, what do you say?" he murmured against your lips. "You in?"

You nodded, your mind a whirl of desire and anticipation. "I'm in. Just…”

"Oh, quit being shy, doll. Just because you haven't shown yourself on cam yet doesn't mean you're a saint. We both know you're not. I still remember you moaning on the phone, telling me how you'd suck my dick during one of our calls."

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing heart. "Katsuki, I... I don't want my face shown on the stream."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "Why not? Are you ashamed of my idea?"

You shook your head quickly, cupping his face in your hands. "No, it's not that. I just... I don't think you want to be associated with an OnlyFans girl later. It could cause trouble for you. You’re a hero after all..."

His expression softened, and he cupped your cheeks in his rough hands. "I don't care about your fucking profession, doll," he said firmly. "I've developed feelings for you. You're more than a one-night stand for me."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the sincerity in his eyes making your breath catch. "Katsuki..."

He kissed you deeply, his lips conveying everything he couldn't put into words. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. "We'll do it your way. No face. I want this to be good for both of us."

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "Thank you, Katsuki. This means a lot to me."

He grinned, his hands sliding down to your waist. "Now, let's make this the best stream anyone's ever seen."

Bakugo adjusted the camera one last time, ensuring it was angled just right. He made sure only a slight part of your neck would be visible, keeping your identity safe while still capturing the raw passion of the moment. The red light blinked on, indicating the stream was live. He turned to the camera, his usual smirk in place. "Hey, fuckers," he greeted, his voice low and confident. "Got a special stream for you tonight."

Immediately, the chat exploded with messages, the viewers' excitement palpable even through the screen.

Bakugo! Who's the girl?

Is this for real? Bakugo's got someone with him?

Holy shit, this is gonna be epic!

Introduce her! What's her name?!!

Is she your girlfriend?!! omg Dynamight has a gf? I’m heartbroken!!!

We need details, Dynamight!

Bakugo glanced at the comments, his smirk widening as he saw the flood of questions about you. He enjoyed the attention. "Calm down, fucking idiots," he said, his voice a growl that only seemed to stoke the fire in the chat. "You'll get what you came for. That’s all. My girlfriend’s face stays out of the frame. Got it?"

You gasped as you realized he called you his girlfriend.

The chat buzzed even more, curiosity and excitement mingling in the rapid-fire messages.

Why hide her face?

Is she that shy?

Come on, Bakugo, just a glimpse!

Gosh, he said she is his gf, rip to my feelings :(

Damn, this is hot already

Just fuck that cunt already man

Ignoring the more insistent demands, Bakugo turned to you, his crimson eyes dark with desire. He leaned in, his rough, large hand resting on your thigh as he whispered in your ear. "Ready to give them a show?"

You nodded, your heart racing. "More than ready...."

With a growl of satisfaction, Bakugo's lips crashed onto yours, the kiss fierce and demanding. His hands moved with purpose, slipping under the hem of your dress and slowly lifting it over your head. “Lay down and relax,” he commanded in a whisper.

The cool air hit your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, but his touch quickly warmed you up. You obliged and lay down on his bed.

He broke the kiss just long enough to pull the dress off completely, tossing it aside before capturing your lips again. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve with a desperate need. 

You could feel the heat of his touch through the thin fabric of your underwear, his fingers tracing the lines of your body with an intensity that made your head spin.

Bakugo's hands moved to your back, deftly unclasping your bra and tossing it to the floor. He pulled back slightly, his eyes raking over you with a look of pure hunger. "So fucking beautiful," he murmured, his hands moving to cup your breasts.

You gasped as his rough palms squeezed them gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your back arching slightly in response. He leaned down, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of your neck as he continued to fondle your breasts, his touch both firm and gentle.

"Katsuki," you moaned quietly, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, the anticipation of what was to come making your body ache with need.

His mouth moved lower, his lips and tongue tracing a path down your neck to your collarbone. "I want to make you feel so good," he growled against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. "I want everyone to see how much you need this."

You whimpered in response, your body trembling with desire. 

His hands continued to explore, one moving to your waist while the other remained on your breast, squeezing and teasing your nipple. Bakugo's mouth soon found your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before sucking it into his mouth. 

You cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, the pleasure almost too much to bear. 

He switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, his hands and mouth working together to drive you to the edge.

The camera captured every moment, the slight part of your neck and the intensity of Bakugo's actions visible to his eager audience. The thought of being watched only heightened your arousal, the exhibitionism adding a new layer of excitement to the experience.

The chat was a blur of comments, the viewers enraptured by the display.

Damn, she's loving it!

Bakugo, you're a beast!

This is insane! More, more!

I can't take my eyes off this

Lucky girl, getting all of Dynamight’s attention

Bakugo pulled back, his eyes meeting yours with a look of pure desire. "I can't wait any longer," he growled, his hands moving to the waistband of your panties. He leaned forward, caught the waistband with his teeth and slid them down your legs, the fabric pooling on the bed as he knelt between your legs. He kissed his way up your thigh, his hands gripping your hips to hold you steady. "I'm going to make you come so hard on my fucking mouth," he promised, his breath hot against your skin. "And everyone is going to see how much you love it."

He pushed your legs further apart, exposing your glistening folds to the camera. The sight was mesmerizing, your arousal clear and inviting. Bakugo's eyes darkened with hunger as he took in the view, his fingers gently parting your folds to give the viewers a better look. "Look at that," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "So fucking pretty, and all fucking mine."

The chat went wild, the viewers unable to contain their excitement.

OMG, her pussy is beautiful ♥♥♥

Bakugo, you're a lucky bastard! I’m so gay for that bitch

This is the hottest thing I've ever seen

Look at those curves!

I can't believe this is happening live!

Ignoring the comments, Bakugo leaned in, his breath hot against your sensitive folds. 

Your pussy was tight and firm. It was flushed with your desire, and its lips were damp with your slickness. 

Your scent filled his nostrils and Bakugo growled as his cock twitched in his boxers, aching to be freed.

The first touch of his tongue sent a shockwave of pleasure through you, your back arching as you cried out his name. His mouth worked expertly, his tongue and lips finding every sensitive spot as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue reached out and gently licked from the bottom of one side up to the top. He flicked the pearl of your clit and then licked back up the other side of your lips before flicking it again. Bakugo placed his tongue at the base of your slit and slid it up between your puffy lips. He tasted and felt your juices pool on his flexed tongue as it slid up. 

You tasted so good, so sweet. 

His lips closed over your clitoris and he sucked on it, drawing a gasp from you and a buck of your hips. Bakugo pulled your pussy lips into his mouth and sucked hard on them. His warm tongue went as far inside you as he could reach.

Your juices coated his chin. 

He slid his mouth back up to your clit and eased a finger inside you. He growled against you, the vibrations making your legs shake.

Your lips parted slightly as his thick, rough middle finger slid in between the folds of your pussy. 

It reached in and he curled it up till he hit the top of your pussy. He yet again sucked your clit into his lips hard. 

Suddenly, your legs squeezed together, trembling. “Katsuki,” you whined, arching your back.

Katsuki sucked hard on your clit, his teeth teased it and he flicked it with the tip of his tongue as he slipped two more fingers into your pussy. Soon, they were coated with your translucent slickness.

He kissed your pussy lips and sucked up all of your juices. The nectar from your climax covered his face and hand. It was delicious and he smiled as he looked up from between your legs. 

"Katsuki…" you moaned, your fingers tangling in his ash-blonde hair as you pulled him closer, the need for release almost unbearable as you ground your pussy against his face. Your body tensed, your back arching as the pleasure crashed over you in waves, your cries filling the room. 

Bakugo didn't stop, his tongue continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were left trembling and breathless; your juices spilling on his tongue, overlaying his mouth and chin as he drank all of your essence.

The chat was in a frenzy, the viewers unable to contain their excitement.

OMG, that was intense!

Bakugo, you're a god

I need a cold shower after this

More, more, more!

This is the best stream ever Shhiiit her moans are hot

Fuck, she super hot, you’re lucky, man

Bakugo pulled back, his lips glistening with your juices as he looked up at you with a satisfied smirk. Bakugo stood up, his hands moving to the waistband of his black Calvin Klein boxers as he undressed quickly, his eyes never leaving yours. He stepped out of his underwear, his hard length springing free. 

You licked your lips, the sight of him making your mouth water with anticipation.

He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs as he looked down at you with a possessive hunger. "I'm going to fuck you so hard," he promised, his voice a low growl. Ever so slowly he pressed the leaking tip of his cock to the opening of your pussy.

"Ohhh fuck," you whimpered as Bakugo gradually penetrated your entrance. You sucked in a breath and opened your legs wider to grant him better access. 

So slowly he pushed his cock further in until he was fully sheathed inside of you. Bakugo left his other hand at your throat as he began a slow pace, sliding almost completely away from you before plunging back in. 

You moaned deeply, relishing the searing hardness of his arousal. Your velvety walls clenched tightly around him, drawing a slight widening of his eyes in response to your movements. His arousal felt like forged steel as he continued to thrust vigorously in and out of you. Your desire had escalated to the point where it now glistened on the insides of your thighs and his toned abdomen, the soft, wet sounds filling the air each time he withdrew and then thrust back into your cunny.

Bakugo's lips captured yours passionately, his kiss fervent and insistent. He nipped at your tongue and the corners of your mouth, each bite sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you, melding the physical intensity with a deep, consuming heat.

A sharp yank on his blonde strands pulled his mouth from yours, and you looked into his crimson eyes. “Harder,” you begged.

Bakugo’s face transformed from an expression of animalistic need to one of desperate pleasure. He set a relentless pace, his hips driving into you with a fierce intensity. 

Sweat began to slide in droplets between his shoulder blades and broke out over his forehead. A single drop fell from the tip of his nose and splashed onto your soft belly and you gasped. 

Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the pleasure building with each thrust.

Withdrawing, Balugo moved back into your tight pussy with full force again, and again. He sunk his teeth into the red mark he had made earlier where your neck met your shoulder and moved his body roughly against yours.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, somehow pulling him deeper into your pussy, causing small moans to fall from your lips uncontrollably.

"Katsuki, I'm going to come again," you whined, your body trembling with the intensity of the pleasure.

"Do it," he growled, his hips pistoning into you even harder. "Come for me. Let everyone see how much you need this."

With a final, powerful thrust, you shattered, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as your orgasm ripped through your entire being. You were trembling and quivering as Bakugo rubbed your slick clit faster and faster, making you squirm as you orgasmed. Your toes curled and uncurled with each movement, your pussy dripping wet as his massive cock hit your cervix with every thrust. Your breathing grew heavy, moans escalating in volume until you were screaming his name. Your entire body shook, legs trembling, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. Your pussy dripped, juices spraying the bed and Katsuki's abdomen, the bed squeaking loudly, rocking with the force of his thrusts as you squirted. “Fuck!”

Bakugo thrust madly, groaning as he felt the tightness of your pussy around his cock begin to ripple. He cried out a string of curses as his cock spurted in a mighty gush. He thrust thrice more, cumming with each push until he was absolutely spent, milking your velvety walls with his creamy, thick semen.

As the aftershocks of your orgasms subsided, Bakugo leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. "You're incredible," he murmured against your lips, his hands cupping your face gently.

"So are you," you replied, your heart swelling with affection as you ran your hands though his messy hair.

Bakugo gradually withdrew, his movements deliberate and slow, savoring the last vestiges of intimacy. He watched with a mixture of pride and amusement as his thick cum began to dribble out from your spent pussy, staining his bedsheets. His gaze was intense, capturing every moment with a fierce satisfaction. Ensuring that every second was visible to his viewers, he turned slightly. "How'd you like that, fucking perverts?" he asked his viewers, his voice rough with satisfaction.

The screen was flooded with emojis, exclamations, and messages that scrolled past almost too fast to read. Fans were expressing their thrill and approval, many praising Bakugo's intensity and the raw, unfiltered passion of the display. Some commented on the sheer boldness. It was clear that Bakugo's actions had struck a chord, igniting a fervent buzz among the viewers.

Wow, Bakugo you never disappoint! Absolute legend! 🔥🔥🔥

What a beautiful squirt! That was INTENSE! Way to go, Katsuki!! 💥💥 😱 Can't believe what I just saw! This is why Bakugo's the best! Dude, that was wild!! 🌋 Loved every second of it!

Loved that, absolutely killed it Bakugo! Can’t wait for more! Ur girl is fucking lucky

Bakugo glanced back at you, and asked simply, "So? Ready for another round?"