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lymtw · 9 hours

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Toji watching as you're being buttered up, sweet talked, and undressed with unfamiliar eyes, right in front of him.

His eyes don't waver from your face as you politely smile at the half drunk man on Toji's right side. The man is slurring on and on about how you're incredibly easy on the eyes, and how you stand out even in the minimal lighting of the bar, while you just laugh and try to leave the conversation by disengaging, but once again, you're roped into talking with the man when he asks if you're single.

You would have said no voluntarily, but the question clearly struck a nerve with Toji. His hand went to the small of your back, his palm circling the area slowly. It wasn't that he was insecure, he could tell you loved him from the million times you said it a day, but it was his secure claim on you.

You looked at Toji for the first time in a minute, meeting his blown pupils with attentive eyes. You could see how irked he was by this man continuing to hit on you, and you knew that Toji would get knuckles bloody if you didn't say what you knew in your heart.

You kept your eyes on his, like you were being let into his thoughts. He was dead serious, not a glimpse of light in his eyes. You didn't want him to feel this way, so in an attempt to bring the slightest amount of comfort, you put your hand on his, squeezing with reassurance. After a few seconds of silent communication, he nodded towards the man who awaited your response.

You leaned forward again and told the stranger that you were happily taken by the handsome devil sitting beside you, pointing your thumb in Toji's direction. Toji turned and gave the guy a once over, confidence cascading over him at knowing that if push came to shove, he could rock this guy's shit. His menacing demeanor radiated off of him, making the man obviously uncomfortable. He was now being sized up by someone with much colder eyes. He nervously nodded at Toji, the action not reciprocated by the latter.

The man leaned forward, like he was going to start talking to you again, so Toji turned his attention back to you. He didn't need to keep an eye on him because the man was blocked off by him. Now, if the douchebag were to walk over to your side it would be another story, but Toji would keep him in check until he tried.

You take a sip of your soda water, some of it seeping down the corner of your lip when you hear the man address you again. Toji was quick to wipe the liquid off your face with his thumb, suppressing a grin at the small "sorry", you muttered to him. You were clearly fed up with this man who just wouldn't let up. Toji could see it in the way your eyes rolled every time you had to lean forward and look past him to look at the stranger again. Your audible sigh was the last straw. No one as grimy as this mole rat looking man should have the power to ruin your time out.

Just as Toji turned to face the man again, he grabbed his belongings and stood up, getting lost in the crowd of people around you. Toji was vibrating with adrenaline, his heart pumping in his ears from holding himself back. He had to remind himself that he wasn't out alone anymore like he was used to be. The last thing he wanted was for you to be scared and cry because he decided to make a scene and rip someone's face off.

You on the other hand looked socially exhausted, your head down on the counter.

"Baby," Toji coos, leaning in so that you can hear him. "I just can't take you anywhere, can I?" His hand goes to your head, his fingers running through your hair. "People see you, and they really can't help making assholes of themselves."

"I just wanna go home, Toji," you mumble, holding your hand out to receive the car keys. Instead, he takes your hand, pulling you up and onto your feet.

"Like hell. I'm driving." His hand is on your lower back as you step away from the bar. It goes down into the right butt pocket of your shorts, as he guides you through the crowd in search of the exit.

"You sure you're okay to drive?" You ask, looking up at him.

"I'm sober as a nun, baby." He grins at the little giggle you let out. He knew it was your turn to drive home this time, but he just wanted to lift your mood again after that dickhead drained it.

—

"You were eating up that loser's attention, weren't you?" Toji asks, side eyeing you then looking back at the road.

"It was nice for two seconds," you respond, looking out the window. "It's always nice to be considered attractive by others."

"So, i'm chopped liver, huh?" He smirks, glancing at you again. You don't respond, so he decides to cool it with the jokes. "It feels good until you start getting unwanted attention. Don't let dumbasses like that make you uncomfortable, mama." Toji's hand goes to your thigh, three squeezes to the plush to comfort you, this time. "Was about to murder the man, but he ran away like a coward." He side eyes you when he hears that intoxicatingly sweet laugh again. "Oh, that's funny?" He asks, a smirk on his face.

"You're insane," you laugh.

"Don't act like you don't love it."

—

Once Toji pulls into the driveway of your house, he has his intentions clear in mind. He's gonna show you how much he appreciates you. After all, you deserve it for knowing him so well and putting up with him. It's incredible that you know when he's not okay, but also when he's having a really good day, just by looking into his eyes.

You both exit the car, Toji quickly catching up to you on the other side. His hands rest on your hips as you walk, causing you to turn around and look at him.

"Face forward or you'll crash," he says, as you near the front door of your house. He pulls out his copy of your house key, swiftly unlocking the door.

You're glad Toji has a spare to your house. Who knows how many times the door would have been replaced had you not given him one. You have a habit of taking long naps, and because of it, you quickly learned that if you leave his messages unanswered for too long, he will show up at your door and knock aggressively until you answer. There was always the 'next time i'm kicking it down by the third try' comment when you finally opened the door, so you gave him the spare to avoid that scenario.

You walk ahead to your bedroom as Toji secures your house. He locks the front door, shuts the windows, and pulls down the shades before meeting you in the room.

He leans against the doorframe of your bedroom, and allows his eyes to rake over your body as you lay there like a starfish with your limbs extended.

"You gonna make room for me or what?" He asks, walking into the room.

You cross your legs together and throw your arms over your face. "Is that enough space for you? Or should I roll onto the floor to make more room?"

"Uh-uh. Nah, baby." Toji chuckles, reaching the end of your bed. He crawls towards you, effortlessly pulling your legs apart. "You're not gonna try this attitude with me. I haven't done anything to you, so put the brat away before I do it for you."

Your heart races at the threat, and you wonder if it's real, so you spare a glance at him from beneath your forearm. Contrary to his stern words, his hands are touching your skin so delicately. His fingers trace the harsh indentations the straps of your high heel left above your ankle.

"The cost of looking so fine all the time," he mutters, under his breath. You reacted like a child, only wincing at the pain once Toji paid attention to it. You didn't spare a second thought when you undid the buckles on your heels, opting to throw yourself on the bed immediately after they were off, but suddenly you needed Toji to make it stop hurting.

Toji kisses the damage, his hand wrapped around your ankle, loosely. "My own little shard of heaven," he hums into your skin. Your arms fell beside you on the bed as you admired the image before you—Toji's very high functioning attempt at healing you.

It was a welcome change, compared to the usual effect he had on you. Being Toji's lover turned you into a flammable substance, and he ignited you. He did everything he could to make his touch your greatest weakness, and now flames rise within you every time his hands meet your skin. Your body emanates heat when he trains your flammability with lingering touches.

This time was much different.

He was the chemical that put out forest fires, he was a breath blowing out a candle, he was soothing water.

He moves up your body, his lips trailing your shin before reaching your knee. His gaze meets your twinkling one. If he looks long enough, he can locate stars in your eyes. It's something that motivates him to keep going.

He takes up the space between your legs, his hand hooked into the waistband of your shorts. His fingers fiddle with the metal button and quickly undo it, pulling the zipper down before he leans forward to kiss you. You can feel the button to his jeans on your stomach, the warm metal heating up even more as it rubbed against your skin.

He chuckles, holding himself above you. "Feeling it, too, huh?"

You run your hands up his chest and the sides of his neck, before going up one more time to cup his face. You pull him closer, allowing your lips to lock with his again. Toji could tell you wanted to devour him by the way you held onto him so tight. Your hands balled up the back of his shirt into your fists, your thighs squeezing his hips.

He breaks the kiss, looking straight into your dilated pupils while you catch your breath. It was precious seeing you this way, so needy that your body started reacting on it's own. "You know, i'm always feeling you, princess," he murmurs to you, his face inches away from yours. "Want you all the time... It's almost ridiculous how often I think of fucking you." His lips press to the corner of your lips, tracing your jawline afterwards. "I say almost ridiculous because..." his lips go further, now beneath your ear, "it's my business, and I don't care."

You giggle at his attitude, your eyes shut as you thread your fingers through his hair. His breath reaches your earlobe, bringing goosebumps to your skin. "You don't care?" You repeat.

His eyes are lidded when he leans back to look at you again. "Not one fuck is spared for anything but you, ma." His hands go down to the bare skin your unbuttoned shorts revealed, feeling up the soft warmth of your waist. You squirm slightly at the roughness of his hands combined with his lustful gaze on you.

"I've got my eyes on you anytime you're in a room, got that?" He says, bowing down to kiss below your bellybutton. He looks at you through his lashes, seeing the small nod you respond with. "Do you get it or not?" He murmurs into your skin. "Gotta give me more, pretty girl."

"I know," you respond, propping yourself on your elbows to nervously meet his green eyes.

"Good. You don't take shit from anyone but me. Am I clear?"

You laugh, letting yourself fall back on the bed again. Your sudden fit of laughter brings a smirk onto Toji's face as he continues to kiss your lower body. You compose yourself, before responding to his question. "Only you, Toji."

"Mhm," he hums, his lips grazing the lace trimming of your panties. You lift your hips to let him roll the material of your shorts and underwear down. Your legs come up to kick them off. Toji sighs, "I know you wouldn't do me dirty, ever. You're too sweet. Practically incapable, mama." Your thighs became victims to his lips. Your delicate skin gained bright red blotches in uneven patterns, an act of worship from your lover.

You knew Toji this way—dominant and possessive. This was just the start, but even if he were to only mark up your lower body, you both know they're there. You'll think of him when you change your clothes, and if you don't mind them, a simple look in that direction from Toji will remind you.

"So wet, already." He can see the glistening of your arousal coated folds. "I've only been teasing you... and you're already this wet?" It's a rhetorical question. The sight has Toji practically zoning out, almost missing the flush on your cheeks from all the attention.

"Toji..." you whine, embarrased by the amusement he finds as he keeps observing you.

"Bless you, mama," he mutters, bringing his hands towards your cunt. The tip of his middle finger is the first part of him to make contact with your pussy. He glides it up and down once to see how much of your slick he can collect. You shudder at the contact, a sharp inhale lured from you.

"See that?" He holds his hand up, showing you the shiny coat on his middle finger. You look and in a split second you see him commit a heinous act, popping the finger into his mouth to suck off your juice.

"Jesus, Toji," you put your arms over your face again to hide the furious blush that ambushed it.

"Acting all disturbed when you know i'm about to put my mouth all over your pretty pussy."

You're in no place to argue when you know he's right, so you peek at him until you feel your nerves subside a little more.

"It's so perfect. Almost don't wanna make you cum." He stares at your glossy cunt, his eyes slowly trailing up your body to meet your flustered expression.

Your heart sinks. Toji was good at maneuvering his tongue. He's made you cum more times than you can count using just the muscle, so him telling you that you possibly weren't being given that option this time scared you a little.

"Could stay here forever... between these very pretty thighs." His hand caresses your one of them, his fingers splaying on it before squeezing the plush. "Say you'll let me edge you for hours, darling." He's asking out of courtesy. If he really wants to do it, there's no need to ask for permission.

"Toji," you laugh, dropping the smile when you don't see him laughing. "Please, no." You prop yourself on your elbows again, looking down at him.

"It'll be so good. Don't even worry your pretty little head." His hand presses against your stomach, signaling for you to lie down again. He goes back down, his gaze on your cunt again. He blows on it, watching you squirm at the gentle sensation. Something about the reactions makes him chuckle, lowly. You were so weak for him, you wouldn't last five minutes. With that in mind, his tongue peeks out, testing your reaction to it against your clit. Your hips push back against the mattress when the warmth meets you.

"Stay still," he says, before trying again. The tip of his tongue glides up from your entrance to your clit, eliciting a tremble from your thighs. He smirks to himself at the sound of your quiet breaths. Another stripe is traced between your folds, a more audible moan leaving you. Your thighs falter in their ability to stay open.

"What did I just say, ma? Stay still." He pries your legs open again and hooks his arms around your thighs. Won't tell you again. I'll bring out the rope next time you interrupt me."

"I-I can't do this, Toji," you say, your nervousness clear in your gaze.

"You've barely given me a chance, and you're already a nervous wreck?" He kisses your thigh, the act somewhat settling your nerves. "Just wanna play with you... and ruin you..." Toji can feel his cock throbbing more with every second that he holds back from devouring you. "...and make you cry from how bad you wanna cum. That too much to ask for?"

"N-No, I guess no-"

"Good," he cuts you off, a grin on his face. "Just lay there and look pretty. Take everything with grace like the good girl I know you are."

You sigh, not prepared for the next couple hours you would have to withstand.

—

"Wanna cum?" Toji asks for the nth time that night, a twisted smile on his face while he steadily curls two fingers inside of you. Your legs tremble in your mind fucked daze, your cunt messily covered in slick and Toji's saliva. You know the answer he's gonna give you and yet you still respond with the remaining ability you have to think.

"P-Please..." you hiccup, a fresh stream of tears falling down your cheeks to accumulate with the ones that already dried. "Can I?" you attempt to sit up, your abdomen trembling as you bend slightly before falling back. "Please, Toji?" Your chest caves in with a deep breath as you try to suppress a sob.

"No," he simply says, slowly pulling his fingers out of your pulsing cunt. With all the slick that webbed onto them, he was sure you would cum so quickly if he didn't manage his pace. He sighs, fascinated by the texture of the sticky fluid on his fingers. "Poor thing," he coos, as if his boxers aren't drenched with a significant amount of precum. "You look angelic when you cry for me." His hand strokes your thigh while he peppers kisses onto the other one.

You breathe shakily when you feel his hand getting close to your pussy again. "Ready to go again?" He asks, a sly grin on his face when he meets your glossy eyes.

"Toji..." you swallow, shaking as he narrows his focus on your ruined cunt.

"Hm?" He hums, dizzy on his own obsession with making you beg for something he doesn't want to give you just yet.

"Please, I can't wait anymore. You're killing me."

Toji didn't mean to take it this far, at first. He solely intended to make you feel loved after seeing the switch in your demeanor at the bar. He was gonna kiss up your body and whisper his favorite things about you while he made love to you. Then he was between your legs and you were looking down at him with that warmth in your eyes, visually proving that you loved him to death, so he decided it was best to break you instead. He had to make your eyes roll into the back of your head.

"You can handle it. You're my good girl, and you know this gets me off, so you're gonna take it, right?"

Once again, you're left with no chance of refusing. What's another while of not being able to cum?

—

Toji was lapping at your cunt like you were fading away and he would never get to taste you again. He was relentless with your clit, pointing his tongue in order to abuse it with precision.

"A-Ah, fuck...Toji," you whimpered. "Please... please, Toji, please. Can I..."

"Mmm..." Toji hums, sucking on your clit. He's ignoring your pleas for mercy, too enveloped in your sweetness to think about your aching need to cum. He knows you want it, and little do you know that he's getting it to you.

"Wanna cum, baby?" He asks you one more time, his middle finger teasing your entrance.

"Uh-huh."

"Use your words, mama. Try that again." It doesn't help that he's thumbing at your clit, rubbing slowly, causing you to stutter and your thoughts to fall through.

"Y-Yes, please," you respond, shuddering afterwards. "Please, make me cum."

His fingers reentered you, immediately curling and abusing the sensitive spot hidden within you. His tongue focused on your clit, swirling around it with that devilish pointed tongue. You were completely ruined by the time you came. Toji pulled his fingers out of you, in favor making out of with your pussy, his lips gliding up and down your slit as you vibrated beneath him. You fisted the sheets beneath you, loud, broken moans leaving you as wave after wave of pleasure was inflicted onto your core.

"T-Toji!" You moaned, whimpering as he continued to devour you. Your juices covered the lower half of his face, dripping down his chin, and onto the collar of his shirt. Your thighs clamped around his head and your hand pulled at his dark locks as you rolled your hips against his face until you couldn't stand it anymore. "Oh god... oh fuck!" you pant. "N-No more, no more, Toji." Your thighs are shut tightly around his head, barely working to get him to stop.

He unlatches from your clit with a pop, his hands coming up to pull your thighs apart. You look at him through heavy, lidded eyes. His lips are glossy with your cum on them, his chin was dripping in it as well. After a minute of just listening to your heavy breathing, Toji climbs up your body again, your sensitive cunt twitching at the feeling of his jeans brushing up against it. His hands go to the sides of your head, sparing him stability so he lean down and kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips and his tongue as the flavor is distributed between your mouths.

He breaks the kiss, his face still inches away from yours. "You taste that, right?"

"Mhm," you mumble, lightheaded from your lack of breath.

"I can have that taste in my mouth whenever I want. Aren't you jealous?"

"Mm... no, 'cause you can always share it with me. Put some of it on my tongue. Some mouth to mouth action..." you spare a lazy grin for Toji

He chuckles. "That was a once in a lifetime thing, doll. I'm all for sharing anything with you, but that's all for me."

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sleepanonymous · 8 months

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Look at this twice-broken scarlet dismay Cigarette smile at the end of the day You're a mess, no Falling to pieces at best Throw stones at the mirror

Here's an example of why you should try To distance yourself from the notion of Falling in love so unnecessarily Laid low by thinking it over

Fear has an eight-legged weakness You've got to settle the scores Scream and climb up on a chair You're afraid of what you've become You're afraid of what you've become...

Spinning a web comes with no guarantees With every word that runs under the carpeting My guess is you're getting desperate To hide this stigma of yours Suddenly I understand what you said About having eyes in the back of your head but I just don’t get the way you act like a trap set waiting to spring

Fear has an eight-legged weakness You've got to settle the scores Scream and climb up on a chair You're afraid of what you've become You're afraid of what you've become...

The moral of this story captured at last Under the mouth of an overturned glass And it’s time to stop telling me you've been lied to I already know

Fear has an eight-legged weakness You've got to settle the scores Scream and climb up on a chair You're afraid of what you've become...

ALSO on the subject of spiders, here's a bit from a clickbait article he wrote in 2015. What a jerk 😤 (affectionate).

#lost media #circa 2011 #song arachnophobia #yeah october 2011 #mind = blown #🤯🤯🤯#ves was a teenager when he recorded and posted this #hearing this one for the first time i was blown away #also i'm 100% on these lyrics this time #because they were in the old video description #except I corrected Cigarrete and Uneccessarily #but no salt towards ves #i couldn't spell in high school either #also spider warning? maybe?#no spiders are actually in this post #except here🕷️

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atrium-hq · 2 years

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you have my attention

#right whats all this then im intrigued i hear you jm listening #same exact feeling as when i googled apotheosis the first time and got chills reading the definition #i was so blown away by his intros/descriptions in apotheosis especially seeing the initial world-building in ep 1 #im excited to see what insane shit he’s writing for this one #condifiction #jrwi

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verved · 1 year

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I'm so happy rn I absolutely love the direction Orax went with his sound it is SUCH a breath of fresh air in the synth scene and Crash takes all the good things done in the past two albums and seems to come to a middle ground between them. Music that pumps you up while also having bittersweet nostalgic undertones. No one does it like him.

#i remember hearing 'missing' for the first time on magnatron #and just being blown away #i haven't been let down by a single orax release yet #lineko.txt #tearwave was an interesting departure from the norm but like. a really good one #FILM is still my fav #but on listen ONE crash is doing things to my heart #every single track has that orax sound but isn't repetitive idk it's so. its SO.

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ohmygraves · 2 months

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once, you tried to hide from your husband simon.

it wasn't your first attempt, of course. he's very observant and would notice you missing if you were out of his sight for like five seconds. you two are basically joined to the hip, so it's really, really hard for you to just somehow disappear from his sight. you're thankful that somehow he didn't even set up security cameras for the house himself.

of course, that doesn't discourage you from pranking your husband.

simon was away on a deployment for a few months, and you have been planning all of this from start to finish. you've seen lots of tiktok and reels and whatever about seeing how long your spouse will go look for you if you went missing, and you're kind of curious as to how long it takes for him to go look for you. clearly, you weren't thinking that far ahead.

you went and set up cameras yourself, since it's high time that you need to install one anyway. you told simon before he left, he completely trusted you to deal with it. he's most likely going to check everything when he comes back anyway, making sure that you did everything properly. but that's how you find yourself sitting impatiently, waiting for him to pull over the driveway of your shared home.

after setting everything up, you make sure that the cameras are working around the house. one by the front door, one in each room (except the bathroom), one in the garage and overseeing the driveway, and one facing the backyard.

this was flawless. this was amazing. he's going to laugh and find you in five seconds as usual.

you quickly hide yourself in the closet after you hear him pull over, making sure to keep your voice as low as possible. you giggled as you saw him call for you as he walked into the house through the security camera. but you weren't ready to see what happened next.

simon kept calling for you, looking around nervously as he couldn't find you. he dropped his duffel bag on the floor, kicking his boots off in a rush as he looked everywhere for you, getting increasingly agitated and anxious since you didn't respond. you can clearly see how panicked he was, how scared he is. his voice cracks as you could hear him pass from room to room, his hands flipping through your entire house to find you.

seeing how panicked he was, you felt really bad.

you quickly leave your hiding spot, calling out to simon. he was holding a knife in his hand, a panicked look on his eyes as he turns to you, eyes blown wide. his breathing is irregular.

"simon! i'm sorry! i was hiding and—"

you couldn't even finish your sentence before he hugged you, dropping his knife as he held you close to him. his body shook silently as he pressed you against his chest, not wanting to let go. you could feel his heart beating fast, his fingers trembling against the small of your back. you could feel wetness dropping against your skin, but you're too scared to say it out loud.

"... don't do that again..."

"i'm sorry, simon..."

he didn't say anything, simply holding you tighter in his arms. he wouldn't leave you alone for a few days afterwards. you're sure he's still mad at you after what you did, but he didn't say anything, too busy holding you close to him hoping that somehow he could glue the two of you together so you wouldn't wander off.

you learned that you probably shouldn't try and scare him like that again.

#not proud of this one :x #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty headcanon #cod headcanon #cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod ghost x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost #ghost cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader

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supercutszns · 4 months

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a place with you; luke castellan

wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)

pairing: luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.

warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.

So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.

When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.

“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.

“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”

You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.

Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.

So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.

Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.

Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?

This time, though, he’s a little worried.

It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.

It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.

There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.

You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.

“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”

You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”

It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”

The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.

Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”

“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”

You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”

He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”

“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”

“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”

You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.

Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”

“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.

His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”

I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.

“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”

It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”

He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”

Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”

Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.

Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.

Until you’re claimed.

Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.

He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.

Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.

You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.

But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?

After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.

You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”

Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.

You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”

When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”

There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.

He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.

“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.

You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”

It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”

You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”

There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”

Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”

He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”

His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”

He turns back to you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.

“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”

Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”

His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”

It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”

There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”

You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.

He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.

“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”

“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.

He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.

But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo series #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell #this is far longer than i wanted it to be so sorry.#don’t usually write in 2nd person or present tense so i’m just trying not to look at it #the evil men with curly hair have won again

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rinhaler · 5 months

Note

step brother sukuna forcefully taking his stepsister's virginity <3 (with size difference)

sukuna has got me in the biggest chokehold and this weeks dub has not helped in the least long live ray chase

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, noncon, stepcest, creampie, use of 'good girl', virginity loss, vaginal sex, hair pulling, degradation, spanking, noncon photography.

words: 1.3k

“S-Sukuna?” you wake up, eyes fuzzy and the darkness not helping matters as you try and make out the shape of your step-brother in your doorway. He could be anyone, really, but the size of his silhouette gives him away. You roll over to check the time on your phone, grunting with displeasure when you see it’s only 3am.

He comes inside, stealthily, and he reeks of alcohol. You can smell him from your bed. And you feel blinded when he turns on the light, your retinas blown to hell as you try and adjust to the brightness.

You yelp as he sits on the mattress, and you sit up quickly.

“You’re a good girl,” he tells you, voice slurring slightly as he speaks. “Staying home tonight, good… good girl.”

You aren’t sure what to say, though you begin to worry he might vomit on your carpet. You hasten out of bed to grab the bin in the corner of your room, placing it between his legs. And he laughs at that, it’s just so… you.

“Some… whore… I don’t remember her name,” he sniffs, looking down at the bin before his red eyes hone in on you. “She was all over me tonight. But I pushed her away. Y’know why?”

“W-Why…” you ask, cautiously, your inner monologue telling you this is leading somewhere bad. You want to run, but you feel like your legs at being weighed down to your mattress.

“I thought, why fuck her? I don’t care about her. She’s easy. But you,” he continues. He kicks the bin away and he climbs onto your bed, crawling closer to you on all fours like a predator cornering it’s. prey. You try to escape, still weighed down with fear. But you could only get so far anyway. Your back meets with the headboard, and you know you’re trapped. “My sweet little sister. Are you sweet? Maybe you’re a whore like her.”

“Sukuna, p-please, I’ve never… I’ve never—”

“You’re real sweet.” he grins, pulling you against him until your noses touch. “Should have known you were a virgin. I hear you when you touch yourself sometimes, you never last long. You’ll prob’ly cum on my cock the minute I put it in.” he sneers, and in your panic he manages to flip you onto your stomach with ease.

“N-No, please, I don’t— you’re my b-brother!” you object, body freezing and turning limp as you realise you’re powerless to his advances. He doesn’t bother undressing you, he just pins your wrists above your head with one large palm. “S-Sukuna?”

“I’m your big brother, and I should be the first person to feel your cunt wrapped around my cock.” he answers you, unzipping his trousers and freeing his cock just enough to use against you. He moves your pyjama shorts into the crease of your thigh, and he can’t help but ogle your sopping flesh. “You’re wet, little girl. And no panties. You knew I was coming, didn’t you? Did all of this for me… how thoughtful.”

You cry, silently, as you realise there’s nothing you can say to stop this. He drags his thick cockhead up and down your folds before he practically stabs it into your entrance. You scream, but he yanks your hair and forces your face down into the pillows to silence you.

“Shut the fuck up.” he tells you. “You want this, I know you do.” he lies, though you don’t know if it’s for your benefit or his own. Each drag and rut into your heat is torture. It’s slow, tormenting, until he finds a steady rhythm against your resisting walls.

“Ah, ah!” you moan, your voice finally free as he gives you the chance to breathe. He snarls as he hears you, moaning like a slut as he defiles your virgin interior.

“Knew you’d like it, slut.” he laughs, picking up the pace as your needy whining encourages him. He lets your hands go, knowing you’ve given up on fighting him. His hands knead into the flesh of your ass, spanking you on occasion and forcing you to jolt back against him. He pulls your hair until your back is curved into an almost agonising arch.

“S-Sukuna! H-Hurts! Hurts s’much!”

“Is that why you’re moaning like a bitch in heat for me, hah?” he chides, spanking your ass as he continues bullying his cock into you. “Ya getting tighter around me, sister. Naughty girl…” he spanks you again and you can’t help but preen for him. You fucking hate yourself and you hate him for doing this to you.

You just can’t deny how good it feels.

“Y-You’ve always been so good,” he pants, stuttering slightly as he feels himself teetering on the edge of release. He grabs a fistful of your ass again and you can already feel how red and bruised it’s becoming. And you yelp as he inflicts a particular agonising spank onto your rear. “Tell me you love me.” he groans in your ear.

“I- I love you,” you don’t even hesitate, because you do. He’s your big brother, after all. How could you not love him, even in spite of this? “So good t’me, Sukuna, always s-so good.”

His eyes roll over white as he hears your words, it took all of his self-control to not cum in that instant. “Aren’t you p-recious,” he struggles, both of his hands dig into the fat of your hips, now. Your body collapsing forwards as he makes no effort to help you keep upright. It still hurts, but it’s an agony you’re willing to withstand for him. “Gonna be the first person to cum in this virgin cunt,” he grins, he wraps his arms around your waist as if he’s hugging you. Though you come to realise he’s just preventing any escape attempts you might make.

“No! Sukuna, n-no! You can’t.”

“Yeah, I can. ‘n you’re gonna let me because you’re a good girl,” he tells you, whispering directly into your ear as he feels his balls begin to tighten. “Only big brother’s get to cum here, got it? This little pussy was made for my cum.”

“N-N— ah! Hnng, fu-uck! Fuck!“ you moan, and Sukuna has lost any interest in forcing you to keep quiet. The damage is done, now. Even if your parents find out, it’s not like they can undo his handiwork, gifting his little sister with a pretty creampie.

He fucks into you until he blows his load. Your walls fill with white and you shudder from the contrast of your freezing body being stuffed full of his creamy white cum. He fucks it into you, deeply. And you don’t have the energy to object.

When he’s through, he pushes you off his length and you melt into a puddle on the mattress below. You feel your knee being forcibly bent in a bid to spread your legs open. Your pussy lips open deliciously and his sperm drips from your hole and down your little slit.

“Don’t move.” he tells you.

You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

He pulls his phone from his back pocket, taking a series of photos of your lifeless form and drippy cunt. He smirks as he sifts through them all.

He’s sure he’ll find one that will make the perfect screensaver.

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seattlesellie · 8 months

Text

training wheels.

this is an old draft that i wrote a long time ago, about ellie using the strap on you for the first time. ♡‧₊˚

warnings: strap on sex (r!reciving) , first time , praise kink (for both) , soft and loving dom top!ellie , sub bottom!reader , cock grinding , thumb sucking .

──★ we have to make it clear on the fact that ellie was so unbelievably thrilled, yet so incredibly tentative when she first fucked you with her strap on. she’s been waiting for it, waiting to be the one claiming you from inside. she’s had it sitting snuggly in a box tucked below her bed for a while now, and she’d always eye it, have some sort of stare down with the black box. should she? or should she not? she wondered, but when three of her fingers were scissoring inside of you and you muttered that “please, d- deeper” she knew that fuck it — she should.

──★ so expectably, the first words that came out of her quivering lips when she aligned the silicone shaft with your sopping entrance, were “are you sure? i need to know you want this, please”, and you — being so eager yet so timid, only responded with two fervent nods. clearly, it wasn’t enough for ellie, in fact, it wasn’t enough at all, so her voice got very stern all of a sudden. it was that tone she only uses when she’s commanding someone to do something on patrol, when she’s directing someone on where to go, or showing them how to polish a precious weapon. it carries a deepness to it, raspy, it’s strong and forceful, nothing that falls short of intimidating. it's a different side of ellie, one that you don't know quite as well. “use your words, m’not doing this unless you use them”, and when she notices how you thickly gulp, huffing out a shaky breath from your nose, she soothes you with a delicate kiss on your temple. you whine, that kiss makes you want more. as soft as it may be, it makes you buck your hips inwards and let go of a needy high pitched moan. ellie shushes you with her sweet “i know babe, i know” — and you know that she knows, so why won’t she just put it inside?

──★ perhaps it’s the need to affirm herself that you do want this, or maybe it’s this greed she holds and the yearning to hear you say it. she’s looking deep into your blown out eyes, your dark irises, nods her head twice and waits for your words. meanwhile, whilst she waits, she slides her thumb down to caress just above your clit. she’s circling your skin with a touch to soothe, or perhaps signaling you what she’ll do when it’s inside, she'll never neglect your little button. when you look down, she hums. “words, mhm?” she murmurs. you can tell she’s all tensed up, fighting the urge to just slide it inside because she knows she can, she knows you need it by the way your chest heaves up and down, and by the way there’s a small puddle of slick that formed on the flimsy bedsheet below. moreover, she has prepared you for it, first with her skilled tongue, then with her skilled fingers. “want it, i need…” you whisper, voice airy yet cracking. ellie removes her finger from your pelvis, brings it up to your cheek and caresses softly. “need what, pretty girl, huh? need what?”

──★ truthfully, you don’t really know how to call it, she’s never really referenced it by it’s name, just called it a “thing” you “might need” when she realized how eagerly your hole pulls her fingers inside, and squeezes like she might run away if you don’t. so when you see the deep, dark purple shaft (with two distinct veins on the side) you simply giggle out of inexperience, and a tinge of embarrassment. ellie smirks, looking down at you, then grins with her eyebrows arched up in amusement. “ellie… i dunno, uh, how to call it… i mean —“ and she stops you mid sentence, smacking your lips softly with hers. she chuckles, matches your giggle even, a deep blush appearing on the apples of her cheeks because fuck — what if you laugh, what if you don’t like it, or what if you don’t want to use those dirty words she likes calling her silicone buddy by. “uh… shit babe, it’s, well you can call it…” she stammers, now attempting to stifle her laugh. you look up at her and form a tight line with your lips. your chest’s heaving and stifling giggles because fuck it, she’s cute when she’s embarrassed, and how fucking precious is it that you can laugh with her even in a moment like this. you cunt can ache for her and you can still be silly together and giggle like kids because you trust her and she trusts you.

──★ she buries her face in the crook of your neck, groaning yet giggling and nearly falling on top of you. when her hips slightly buck down, in result of her laughs, the silicone shaft grinds itself up against your slippery slit, and you whine her name so loud her giggles stop like she’s been hit on the face with a rock. now, you can hear her harsh breaths in your ear, loud with anticipation and want, lips resting on the pulse of your neck. she realizes you must fucking love the grinding of it all, so she moves her hips back and forth to grind up against you some more. “uh huh, like that?” she murmurs, and to every whimper she responds with a groan like she can feel it, like she can actually feel your greedy wet lips wrapping around her. she nibbles on your earlobe, making you shiver, and breathes deeply before speaking into your ear. “fuuuuu” she gasps and it’s breathless, like she’s trying to form actual words but they only come out as muffled gibberish. she breathes again, gaining her courage. “my cock… say you want my cock”.

──★ it really is lewd, “her cock” — as if it’s hers, attached to her, as if she can feel it. it makes your tummy tie in knots, makes your throat feel clogged, your breaths come out harsher and bordering on wheezing before you murmur those words. when the mushroom like tip bumps up against your clit, it’s oh so delicious and fuck it — you want, as lewd as may be, you need her cock. “i want your cock, ellie, inside” you cry for her, and she nearly growls in your ear. although it’s bordering on perverted now, she asks you a simple “inside where?”, it makes you hiccup against her skin, and you don’t even realize she’s smiling so bright inside the crook of your neck. she understands that if she eggs you on, you will fucking say it, so she repeats with a raspy; “c'mon, where?”

──★ when it becomes crystal clear to you that unless you voice everything out; she won’t give it to you, and you’re practically clenching in and out over nothing — you whisper “need… ellie, i need it in my pussy, please, please, please” and god, she nearly regrets making you say it because she might burst inside her boxers if you keep begging for it like such a needy girl. she takes a moment to think about it, needy, needy, needy, needy for her, for her cock — needy for her to fuck you, needy for her inside and christ sake you’re begging and she didn’t even ask you to. you’re feeding her ego with every plea, with every quivering breath and you don’t even know it. meanwhile, whilst she’s busy thinking about how to pull back on her goddamn nearing on untouched orgasm, she doesn’t even realize your hand is wrapped around her dick and you’re nearly pushing it inside. when she sees it, she nearly goes cross eyed. she grabs your hand and pushes it up, chasing your eyes with hers. “what are you doing, huh?” she drawls, affirming her dominance with an iron grip on your wrist. you’re actually helpless, caught in the act, wiggling your hips and rolling them upwards. “p-please, ellie!” you beg, and the knots inside ellie’s own stomach feel like they’re tightening more and more they might break like glass. she wraps her own hand around the shaft and nearly pushes the tip in. you wince — and to that ellie shushes. “look at me, jus’ look at me”, and how can you not? she looks so adoring, a squiggly smile on her lips when she realizes the tip damn near slipped from how soaked up you are. the actual noise it makes, moist and sticky, makes ellie whimper out your name. “y’hear that?”, she murmurs and of course you can, in fact it makes you embarrassed but she praises you once more, making the embarrassment nothing but a fleeting little feeling. “sounds so good baby, s’all for me?” — all for her.

──★ she pushes the tip inside, no longer gripping your wrist above your head, intently guiding it to hold her wherever you want. you decide on one hand on her bicep, the other one on the back of her neck. there’s a pinching pain inside of your cunt, but it’s so fucking delicious because it’s her thats creating it — that when you wince it comes out as more of a blissful moan and a gasp. she won’t let you suffer, not for one second more, so she slides her hand down to caress your clit as she pushes more inches in. “mhm, ‘s, ‘so good baby… you’re so good, doin’ so good for me, you got this… yeah? i got you” she’s rambling, searching and scanning your face for any sign of pain or regret, and when she catches that you’re smiling, actually smiling with a tear shedding from your eye, she moans so loud you have to seal her lips with yours or else the whole town of jackson might hear.

──★ the more inches she slides inside, the more ellie lets loose of her gritted teeth. her mouth goes slightly agape, “stay open for me, jus’ like that, fuckyou’resogood” she croons, still circling and toying with your puffy clit from below. your thighs are nothing but trembling and shaking like jelly, body, flesh and brain turning into mushy pink and ellie shaped goo, and the fact that she doesn’t stop with her praising and sweet nothings, repeating how good you are, how brave, and tight — makes your heart flutter inside of your chest. when all of it’s length is finally inside of your gummy walls, she lets it sit there for a few faint moments before she begins thrusting. “just for me, got that? just for me, this is mine, all mine” she murmurs more to herself than to you, but you make sure to affirm her nevertheless. “m’yours, please ‘mo— ‘more”, you’re begging for that sharp friction, for that movement, but ellie needs to treasure this moment so she simply looks down. it’s all inside, it’s her cock that’s inside — claiming you, so she marvels, examines and thoroughly looks at your pussy clenching on her dick like it’s a goddamn work of art. if you squeezed down on her fingers like they might run away, the squeeze you have down on her cock — “god damn” she whispers, might need to take a picture and fucking frame it. finally, she catches your pleading gaze. “gonna move now, babe, c— can i move?”, and you whine, because it’s beginning to feel unfair, so she connects her lips with yours and slides her hot tongue inside. she breaks the kiss, grinning like she won the apocalypse lottery. “mhm, gonna move, gonna give you what you want”

──★ at first, she thrusts agonizingly slow like a snail. moves her hips backwards and doesn’t slam it fully inside, lets the tip hang nearly outside of your entrance and then slowly but deliciously slips it in again. you wail, actually wail for her to go deeper, and it clicks in her head when you scratch her back in a way that makes her hiss. she bottoms out fully, moving backwards and then slides inwards again. she won’t stop looking into your goddamn eyes, then stares into your lips that are now “o” shaped. she’s flushed and she’s biting her bottom lip so hard it might draw blood, but then she asks you “t’feels good?” and doesn’t add that cocky “huh?” that she loves to murmur when her fingers are the ones your cunt is hugging, because she actually needs to know. “mhm, good ellie, you’re so good to me” you praise, which sends ellie into a goddamn frenzy — eyelids fluttering and falling heavy as a deep, throaty chuckle escapes from within. “god fuckin’ damn, how did i even…” then she slams it again, which makes both of you gasp. her right thigh shakes, “fuckin’ get so fuckin’ lucky with you?”, she wont stop cussing, slurring up her words and misplacing her “fucks” and her “fucking”s. the louder your moans get, the braver ellie grows, pumping her cock harder now, milking every thrust and every whimper, “who’s f-f fucking you, hm?” she asks, and her thumb neglects your clit but you don’t even need it anymore since she’s giving it to you so good from within. her digit meets your face, caressing the corner of your lip, which makes you take your tongue out and ellie realizes you want it inside as well. you seem to want everything inside, huh? she thinks. her cock, her fingers, her tongue, her goddamn thumb. she complies out of want, curiosity, how slutty would you look sucking on her finger. admittedly, she’s had dreams about it, about you; bent down on your knees sucking on a popsicle in july, sucking a lollipop as she watches from above. she gazes at your cheeks hollow in as she slides her thumb in and out, but you bite it and she gasps — keep it inside cause you’re about to suck it, then she loses it entirely. “you’re fuckin’ gonna make me fuckin’ cum” she whimpers, she says it like she's scared, like she's surprised or confused because heavens how could it be possible?

──★ knowing that you were about to make her cum untouched makes the coil in your stomach nearly snap. you're prideful now, but your pussy feels like it’s quivering so much you simply don't know and can't grasp on how to be cocky about it like she does. another praise escapes your lips, "love your dick s-s- so so much", and ellie growls, she feels depraved and sick, absolutely pussydrunk and on the verge of a heart attack. her rule, however, is that she cannot under any circumstance come before you do, so she speeds up. grabbing both of your cheeks with her hands, she squeezes them together and coos. "you're gonna cum for me" she commands, so your eyebrows furrow together and your eyes close shut. she's dominating you to the verge of tears, so when ellie tells you to cum, you will do as she says. "g, g- gonna cum, it’s, s'-so much" you warn, absolutely breathless, toes curling inside of your socks.

──★ you could call her delusional or crazy, but when you nearly reach your orgasm, she feels your walls hugging her tightly. fortunately for you, ellie is nothing but talkative. it may be odd, because she’s not much of a blabber mouth, but when she’s inside and you’re being fucked out on her strap, talking you through it is all she seems to wanna do. “can f-feel that little pussy hugging me, fuck, gonna give me a big one? pretty girl? give ellie a big one, c’mon”, she’s relentless with it, fast and chasing her own high, not knowing where to goddamn look — your eyes that scream “i love you” or your pussy that’s begging to be filled up some more, or maybe your lips that are covered with drool. she settles however, on your eyes. you nod profusely, “gonna give it to you… mhm” you hiccup, which ellie deems as nothing but so fuckin’ cute, to the point where she wants to break you in half just to hear that “cuteness” some more. when your eyes roll back to the top of your head, cunt filled to the brim — ellie swears something to herself. she’s gonna fuck you every day. if humanly possible, she would have fucked you all the time. so you give it to her, a real big one, one that leaves you paralyzed, not even moaning — sweet sticky mouth fully agape with a choked up scream of her name. she wants to warn you that she’s about to cum too, but you’re too quick to notice. “cum for me, ellie” you beg in that sweet voice of yours and she cums with a huge , lovey-dovey, cumdrunk smile plastered across on her face.

──★ when you’re done, she cleans you up with a wet towel and kisses you everywhere. then — “i picked up a new book and it has a bunch of pics of cool bugs, y’wanna see?”. you’re fucked and in love.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x yn #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams x fem reader

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atrirose · 2 months

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͏͏𝒗𝒊. ͏MORE THEN JUST FRIENDS ! enha ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏— ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏해찬 ͏ ͏& ͏ ͏𝐢

bsf(?)enha x f!reader. warning. none, kissing in jake’ + fluff wc.0.9k 🐰 seiu?!: after a century i’m writing hcs again yayy

— HEESEUNG LEE

let’s you bite him, very weird behavior but he has grown used to it, at first he was all confused as to why you feel the need to bite him like a chew toy but it’s okay your best friend(?) get you now, his biceps nom nom, but due to all this he has bite marks all over him which he is least bothered about but he does get asked if he is dating someone a lot which is confusing because why would people just assume he is dating out of the blue “yn you know i have been asked three times today whether im seeing someone and it’s all because of the bite marks you leave, people would think we are dating”

“do you want that to be a reality” he looks at you with wide eyes “are you hearing yourself” — “i am heeseung”

— JAY PARK

wears your hair tie which very bf coded and i wonder why he hasn’t asked you out yet? like which bestie goes around wearing a girls hair tie when he obviously is in the market? wearing it just makes you thing he is taken “do you love my hair tie that much you can’t even return it to me? YOU CANT RETURN MY OWN HAIR TIE TO ME” shoves a piece of cake in your mouth to shut you up “is it bothering that much, i will buy you more” which is weird because why not just return the one he has on his wrist, at this point he just wants be a wife.

“keeps me away from girls you know” oh so now he is just using you as an escape mechanism “keeps me a step closer to you” your ears turned red “so you wanna date me?” you ask

“that’s very multifaceted question” you hit his shoulders “big meanie” he giggled knowing damn well he is down right bad for you

— JAKE SIM

don’t at him but he has kissed you, like a full blown kiss not just a peck, for training purposes right? yes for training purposes so you both don’t seem like complete losers with no experience when you start dating someone, you can at least put each others name on the resume “do you wanna kiss?”

“no” jake looked at you with puppy eyes “why not” just because this is not WHAT NORMAL FRIENDS DO MR.HOT AND GENIUS BESTIES “your breath smells bad” eyes out like that sad hamster on tiktok with violin bg playing “UGH WHATEVER” you kiss him as he smiles between the kisses, knowing you can’t resist him (damn hot mf) “love ya see you after the match”

— SUNGHOON PARK

takes you on dates, and i get that it’s normal but it’s not normal when he is taking you out alone with him every other week to ‘treat you’, because normal friends totally don’t eat at a fancy restaurant together or go on a late night drive without romantic feelings like girl who are you kidding? “don’t you ever think all this dates we go to without our other friends who you reject because you only want to be with me is the reason why people think we are dating”

“yes” he said cuddling you on his bed “and like this is not normal too you cuddling me, WAIT WHAT YES?” he kissed you forehead “yes but we aren’t just friends either you know” butterflies

— SUNOO KIM

cuddles all the time, whether it is out, in school or hanging out at each others houses, you both are all up each others, which has been pointed out so many times but sunoo really doesn’t care, he would rather feel your soft cheeks next to his than hear people about how this can be a whole scandal and lower the chances of you both getting any partners because people think you both are dating “sunoo can i get some water please i’m dehydrated” you try to wiggle out of the sofa you both were cuddling “nooo i will be cold”

“no you won’t be ugh get off me big baby” you try to push him as he gets up “so now you hate me” obviously he is faking it but you feel bad “im not i’m sorry sunoo what do you want me to do”

“date me”

— JUNGWON YANG

unusually long eye contact, and not the staring contest kinda way, but a loving and soft way, like he is expressing how much he loves you by staring at you, even when you are not looking at him he is always admiring you, asked at multiple occasions why he was staring at you and he just replies with ‘can’t i look at my best friend’ like sure so normal for a bestie to look at his bestie with love doe eyes. so the way he looks at you with undivided attention you might think he is listening to everything you are saying but no you got him wrong.

he humming at you talking about some dog you found cute on tiktok but he isn’t actually really listening and registering anything you are saying, he too busy admiring your plump lips that he would give anything to kiss right now “and then a blue cat said heya bro” he still looking at you “hmm that’s cool”

“YANG JUNGWON YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME” you said shaking him “i guess not, it’s hard to control myself from kissing you and still listen to you, i can’t multitask like that”

— RIKI NISHIMURA

has your face as his alternate face lock id, also lets you use his phone, you want his phone real quick okay have it, you want to see through his photos okay have it, you want to use his insta okay use it, the only thing you are off limits is the boys gc because shady business goes down there, people really think you are dating your bestie and how he is the most honest and trustworthy bf ever? like no he has thousands of feet pics in his camera roll and you haven’t heard any explanation from him yet? how is he honest.

“you are going through my dms?” riki asks as you play around with his phone “yeah and if that bothers you don’t worry im texting this pretty girl who slide in your dms, soon you would have a cute girlfriend all because of my rizz” he snatched his phone from your hands “what the hell i thought i blocked her? yn why are texting her-”

“why? did you get offended? i’m sorry i shouldn’t have, no matter how close we are” he face palms like an old man done with everything “i’m not offended because you texted her, i’m offended at the fact that i have such a dumb friend who can’t see i want her more then just friends” there star struck aren’t you

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hungharrington · 21 days

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Your last blurb has me thinking of Steve and soft early relationship smut where it’s still fairly new and exciting and he’s just so sweet and wants to be close to you 💔💔

this is basically the premise of a little less conversation BUT it’s also such a good prompt anyways that i wanna write something goofy n domestic hehe <3 u put heartbreak emojis but i’m making this goopy sry! and actually it’s not even soft god i’m sorry MDNI this entire blog is 18+

Steve sinks into you in one slow thrust and makes a noise like he’s been stabbed, his forehead to your collarbone.

For one very long moment, he doesn’t move.

“You… you okay?” You ask, all breathy yourself. Your cunt pulses wildly, eager for him to start moving, for some friction— but you’re worried he’s maybe hurt himself somehow. “Steve?”

“I’m good,” He hisses, voice all tight like he is very much not at all good. It blends away as a husky tone threads through his voice. “God, sorry, you just feel—“

He gives a little rock of his hips, pulling out an inch and thrusting back in and a beautiful moan pulls from his lips. He does it again, pulling out a little further and pushing himself back in to your wet, inviting cunt.

He groans again, “Oh my god, I like you so much.”

You startle a laugh, your arms around his neck sliding down so you can pull his head up a bit. Steve’s flushed and looking sheepish by the time you get him face to face. His hips haven’t stopped moving, still small, perfect thrusts in and out, driving you mad.

“Sorry,” He says again, half panting. “Not the best thing to say the first time we fuck but,” He huffs, a throaty moan slipping out in the middle of the sentence. “It’s true.”

You’re beginning to pant too, all your inhales sounding gaspy and high. Your thighs spread more instinctively, pulling them further back to your chest, letting him get in deeper.

“N-No, it’s good,” You say, smiling a bit as he focuses on your face, his lips parted and pupils blown wide. “I really like you too.”

Your words inspire another moan, particularly loud, and his hips rut into you with more fervor, a soft lewd squelching noise beginning to fill the bedroom. Steve moans shakily, peppering sloppy kisses up the side of your neck.

One hand shifts on your hip, sliding up to press your leg further out and unexpectedly, and there’s an audible pop of a joint cracking. Steve stills instantly, still inside you, as he stares down at your hip.

“Oh my god—”

“No, no, it’s fine!” You hastily interrupt, knowing what he’s thinking. You tug his gaze over to you and away from your leg, seeing the smidge of panic in his eyes. “It just cracks sometimes, you couldn’t know that, it’s fine, it didn’t hurt.”

Steve deflates rapidly, giving a relieved chuckle against your chest where he buries his face. When he speaks, his words are all muffled, “I thought I broke your hip.”

You can’t help it, you laugh a bit at that— imagining his panic at the thought. For the third time, you urge his face up and out of hiding, leaning up to nuzzle against his face.

“Quickest way to end a relationship ever,” He jokes, but you can hear the genuine worry beneath his humour.

“No, no, I’m sorry I should’ve told you,” You murmur tenderly, dropping little kisses along his cheeks and nose. His face blazes hot beneath your ardent affection. “But hey, we’re figuring it out, aren’t we? That’s part of the fun, yeah?”

You use your ankles, crossed over his tailbone, to press him into you and Steve gets the message quickly, starting up his gentle thrusts again with a grunt. The soft noises of sex resume, mixed with your combined low moans. The rhythm from before is easy to slip back into. Your cunt throbs hotly, pleasure starting to drool through your stomach.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes heavily, watching your face closely. “Part of the fun. Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

He says it so sincerely that it makes you gasp, clenching around him and eyes screwing closed for a moment. A low whine crawls out your throat.

“God, fuck you for saying that,” You say, with no heat at all. You can’t open your eyes just yet, you’ll combust if you see how handsome he looks right now.

“Yeah?” Steve huffs, sounding a little smug. Your cunt gushes at the sound of his voice. “Oh, you’re right. Figuring this stuff out is the fun part.”

You whine as he fucks in a little harder, the angle just right to have your gut twisting up in pleasure. Your breath is ragged and you finally open your eyes again, swallowing back another sound at the sight of Steve. Messy haired, pink cheeks, reddened lips. He looks hotter than you’ve ever seen him.

“Shut up and hold my hand,” You say— because two can play that game. It works a charm. You can feel the stutter in his hips, see the ripple on his face, hear the whimper in his throat.

Steve keens, tucking his face down into your neck again. His hand searches the sheets til it finds yours, fingers intertwining before he presses your linked hands into the mattress and ruts into your snug cunt harder and faster, deeper.

“F-Fuck,” He stammers, a moan lilting the word. “I like you so much.”

You can’t even laugh this time round because your mind is starting to melt a little at the edges— but it makes the pleasure all that much better, knowing he means it.

#wait i kinda froth this one #it’s fun it’s goofy it’s hot #steve loves to telling u he likes you hehehe #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington #jay writes #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve x you #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #fuck titles i hate thinking of them

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callsign-songbird · 2 months

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This was supposed to be a short rambling and ended up turning into a mini fic lol. I know the tense shifts, I know it's sloppy lol

Anyway, Simon has a sweetheart who gets kidnapped and gets to meet "Ghost" for the first time.

The first time you meet Ghost, it's supposed to be carefully planned and controlled. After all, Simon was so worried about opening that part of himself up to you. To you, he was Simon. Soft, introverted, sweet, desperately trying to break a cycle of generational trauma. You had never met Ghost.

But, of course, nothing in Simon's life can go according to plan, and when you have people that mean something to you, they become weaknesses. So, when you get kidnapped by a Russian military company with the intel that you were important to Task Force-141? Ghost has already burnt down the world once, you're sure as hell that he would do it again for his love. So, when you meet Ghost, it isn't carefully rehersed and planned like Simon wanted. No.

Instead, you're terrified, bound, and gagged on a cold concrete floor wearing little more than your skivvies as tears stream down your face. Then, out of the blue, gunfire and shouting rings through the halls. Stealth be damned, as soon as their cover is blown, you know that Ghost will fight like a rabbit animal. He barges into your cell, tackling a man against the wall with a knife to his throat and a gun at his head.

Those eyes that had looked at you so softly and tenderly were completely unrecognizable when they were this wide and intense, wild with bloodlust. "Where is the girl?" He spits out in fluent Russian before his eyes catch sight of you.

'BANG'

A single bullet through the soldiers' skull, splattering Ghost with even more viscera and gray matter. Ghost doesn't even seem phased as he holsters his pistol and pulls away, letting the body drop with a sickening thud. He walks brazenly up to you, but pauses as he notices the way you frantically back yourself into the corner, trying desperately to stay away from this monster who had surely come to drag you from one hell to the next.

Then, he crouches down and outstretches a gentle hand to you, letting you come to him. He called your name so sweetly, and that was a voice you recognized. You tried to muffle out his name through the rag shoved into your mouth and tied around your head. That earned a low chuckle, a dangerous one that you hadn't heard before. "Not quite, love. Ghost. Now, let's get you home, eh?"

Ghost. The name echoed in your mind, bouncing around as you tried to remember where you had heard it before. Your eyes flicked over to the corpse splayed in the doorway of your cell, making you nearly vomit in your mouth before looking away. Ghost shifted closer, using the knife still in his hand to cut through the rough ropes binding you. "Bloody hell... idiots didn't even use chains, could have escaped right easy, you could of." Ghost muttered, mostly to himself. The words were terrifying to hear.

He reached to untie your gag next, a chuckle rumbling lowly in his chest as you flinch away. He gives you half a second to compose yourself before he unceremoniously rips the gag off of you and tosses it to the side. Red marks are etched into your cheeks where the gag had dug in, and the sight makes Ghost seeth. "Oh, love..." His words are soft, but his tone is enraged, as if those marks alone could start his new crusade.

"LT!" Blue eyes and a neatly groomed Warhawk pop into the door, stepping casually over the corpse as the new face made his way over to you. "This her, LT?" A thick Scottish accent was present, along with a bit of thinly veiled appreciation. "Off limits Johnny, this is her. This is my girl."

Whenever Simon called you his, it was soft and reverent, as if astonished that he could call someone so precious his. But when Ghost said it? It was commanding, possessive, and left no room for argument. You were his. And that thought was almost scary.

Ghost wasted no more time, scooping you up into his arms and making their way quickly through the facility you had only caught glances of while Ghost and Johnny talked in some military jargon you didn't understand.

That's when you noticed it.

Even though Ghost was holding you so tight and close, even though his touches seemed so rough and careless, even though he was splattered with all sorts of blood and viscera, you had none of it on you. Ghost had been so careful with his touches, with how he held you, determined not to stain and taint your delicate skin with the fuel to his fire, the essence of his soul. And that was quite possibly when you realized that 'Simon' and 'Ghost' were merely two sides of the same coin. And they were both yours as much as you were theirs. his.

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sixosix · 8 months

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SLEIGHT OF HAND | LYNEY

summary you will not let lyney get to you. unfortunately, lyney already got to you the moment you met eyes. after all, what is a magician if not an expert in stealing hearts?

or, local sumeru architect goes to fontaine looking for inspiration and comes out of it with three rainbow roses and a crushing magician.

warnings 13+, gn!reader, follows the fontaine archon quest, so there are major spoilers throughout the entire fic! MURDER (lyney trial spoilers) + feminine french pet names ough + bff!Aether loml + sweet talker lyney + KISS SCENE (suggestive)

notes 8K words. thank u to my french bff art @aanobrain who said lyney is a magician he would say mon lapin 🤧❤️ + other various french pet names. thank u to ellie hyomagiri & earthtooz too for hyping this up, my supporters…

“500,000!?”

Sumeru streets are always bustling with its people—from children skipping around the neighborhood to frantic scholars who zip back and forth before returning to their homes when the moon is high. However, the sun is beating down on everyone right now: street vendors are making a profit, dogs are barking as they play fetch with laughing children, and you stand across the blond traveler and his floating companion.

You wince at the volume of Paimon’s shrill voice, inciting bypassers to send miffed glances your way. Embarrassed, you cover the side of your face with a hand, whispering, “Is—is that not enough? I can—”

“No, no, it’s not that!” Paimon’s arms flail around, eyes blown comically wide. “It’s just, you know, more than what we earn from our daily commissions combined!”

“Oh, I see.” you nod, relieved. “Well, I can lower—”

“No, no, no, no,” Paimon interjects hurriedly, and even the traveler shakes his head. “Pleasure to do business with you! Paimon and Aether, at your service!”

“Really?” you can’t believe your luck—the traveler himself agreed to escort you to Fontaine! Or does it count if Paimon agrees on his behalf? “That's a relief. Even Katheryne of the guild had a strange expression when I posted my commission.”

“It’s probably because of the amount of zeroes you might’ve accidentally put,” Paimon murmurs.

Aether tugs on her foot as if warning her. “We'll be leaving soon. Are you prepared?”

“Oh, yes. My stuff’s over there by the bench, you see?”

Aether and Paimon’s faces simultaneously fall. “All of that?” Paimon starts counting it, gaping when she has four little fingers held up.

They sure complain a lot. “You can still back out.”

Aether takes a deep breath, making his way over to your luggage. When he brushes past, you hear him chanting 500,000; 500,000; 500,000 under his breath. He wordlessly carries all of them, his chest puffed and expression grave.

“They’re heavier than I thought,” Aether wheezes out as Paimon flits worriedly around him. “How long are you going to be staying in Fontaine?”

“Oh, just a day or two, maybe,” you say, taking pity and taking one bag from him. “Most of what’s inside are art supplies.”

“Ah,” Aether says.

“500,000,” Paimon reminds him.

“We’re close,” Paimon says, flying back to where you and Aether are still walking behind, him heaving and you offering water now and then. “I saw a huge ravine-looking view! It was like a city on a waterfall!”

“R-Really?” Aether puffs out a breath, sweat rolling off his temple.

You tried prying some of your bags away from him when it seemed like there were monsters up ahead, but he refused instead to fight them with one hand on his sword. He still won. You guessed that he was trying to make traveling easier for you, yet all you felt was immense worry.

“Are you feeling okay, Y/N?” Paimon asks, floating beside you. “You look unwell.” You should ask your companion that, instead.

“I’m a bit nervous. After all, it’s my first time traveling outside of Sumeru.” You smile, patting her head. She doesn’t seem to mind, beaming back. “But I need to get out of my comfort zone to be better, right?”

“That's right! Paimon has a feeling you’ll enjoy Fontaine!” You and Paimon glance at Aether when he heaves a heavy breath, yet he only waves the pair of you off with his free hand. “Before you know it, you’ll be itching to travel again once you’re back in Sumeru.”

“I'm only there for work. I just need to learn a lot, and then I'll enjoy it.”

“Still a student through and through, huh…”

“I can see it,” Aether chimes in, looking all too relieved to rest his arm finally. “I can see Fontaine up ahead.”

You feel the cool breeze brush against your face, a refreshing change from the past hours you and the other two have been trudging through the desert. You could strip off layers and dive if you could. You can make out the harbor even miles away, pouring water out like an endless waterfall stretching for miles.

Arriving in Fontaine is introducing yourself to the rustle of layered skirts, the water-kissed smell, and citizens left and right babbling about tragic endings and thrilling climaxes.

Aether sets your bags on the floor with a heavy exhale. Paimon feeds him with another jug of water.

“I guess we’re here now.” You pull out a heavy pouch you’ve been keeping in one of the bags Aether had been holding over his shoulder. Paimon takes it with greedy, greedy hands. “Thank you for keeping me safe and carrying my luggage, Traveler— are you even listening to me?”

“There’s a girl over there,” Aether says, now staring ahead.

You and Paimon turn to look; sure enough, someone is standing by the edge, looking forlornly over the water. Half of her foot is off the platform, making Paimon fidget.

She gasps. “She isn’t going to jump into the water, is she? Maybe we should go check on her…”

Halfway through Paimon’s sentence, you gathered the courage to speak to the girl with the cat ears.

“Hey, miss.” Her ear twitches. “Is something the matter?”

She turns, looking faintly surprised. If you weren’t so close to her, you wouldn’t have been able to tell there was a change in her expression. “I'm fine. thank you.”

“Oh.” Now things are a little awkward. “Is there something in the water you’re looking at? You might slip if you keep tipping forward.”

She peers below, unworried—silent.

“As long as you’re okay, I guess,” you sigh, awkwardly hovering above her shoulder when realizing it might come off strange if you touch her. “I’ll leave you be.”

Her lips twitch, something close to a smile. You don’t stick long enough to admire it, heading back to Aether and Paimon and shrugging at their inquisitive looks. “She says she’s fine.”

“I think it’s time for me to separate,” you say. “I want to take all of it in as much as possible. Paimon has my payment. Thank you both so much for keeping me safe.” Mostly Aether, though. But Paimon was there, emotionally.

“It’s no problem,” Aether says, his smile warmer than when you first met him. “Stay safe out there. You can look for us if you need anything else.”

“I don’t always pay 500,000 for each of my commissions.”

Paimon wilts. Aether flushes, stammering, “Not what I meant.” You laugh heartily as they wave when you walk off to the aquabus, hopefully, prepared for what Fontaine will give you.

Your sketchbook is a page away from completion when you hear about a magic show at the Opera House. Not that it was hard to miss—everyone and their grandmothers were prattling about nothing else but the entire day.

Fontaine is known for its love for dramatics, but the twins they keep mentioning must be a one-of-a-kind spectacle to have half their region’s population speak about them so reverently.

After wandering for hours, taking in the endless sights of fresh water streaming and grand castle-like modern buildings, you find yourself in the Fountain of Lucine. You’ve heard of Fontaine being somewhat titled the ‘City of Love,’ but seeing couples surrounding each nook and cranny of the tourist spots was still astonishing.

(You console yourself by thinking that there’s something romantic in sketching frantically while the rest of the crowd are sucking faces.)

To your luck, you spot three familiar heads in the fountain plaza.

Aether senses you before you can even say anything, glancing to the side and smiling when you wave at him.

Paimon flutters excitedly. “Y/N! We didn’t think we’d see you again this early. You look like you’re glowing.”

“Was it that obvious?” you laugh sheepishly. “Fontaine is beautiful; I couldn’t even stick too long in one place before I see something else that catches my attention.” You look to the girl you met earlier, who nods politely. “Hello. Are you three acquainted now?”

“Mhm!” Paimon says, hands on her hips. “This is Lynette! She’s inviting us to the show they’re holding here!” She gasps, “Speaking of—”

“Ah,” Lynette says quietly, “I couldn’t get an extra ticket. I’m sorry.”

Lynette is the magician you keep hearing about? With her seemingly reserved personality, you wouldn’t have guessed it. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Paimon,” Aether speaks up. “They gave you your ticket, right? Why don’t you just float next to me or sit on my lap?”

Paimon’s eyes sparkle. “Great idea! That way, I can give my seat to Y/N, right?”

“You guys…” Your chest feels warm as Aether hands you one of the two tickets in his hand. “You really didn’t have to.” Is this what 500,00 gets you? The loyal companionship of Aether and Paimon?

“It’s a good idea,” Lynette says. “My brother wouldn’t want you to miss the show. He’d be devastated.”

“If you insist, then I suppose I can’t refuse.” Aether and Paimon do a cute little cheer. “But I need to return to the hotel; I can’t be watching a magic show carrying all these.” Surely Aether can understand.

Later, with your hands finally empty and charcoal-free, you rush back to the Opera Epiclese, the person standing guard kind enough to open the doors despite being a minute late.

“Welcome, one and all, to the Opera Epiclese!” The audience roars with cheers as the spotlight illuminates a figure on the center of the stage. You hurry to your seats, brushing past Aether and Paimon. “I am the star of today’s show, Lyney.”

Lyney bows, then stands upright with a Cheshire cat grin.

The thunder of the crowd’s applause is deafening. If you weren’t able to see it, you’d think that you hadn’t been clapping at all—senses numbed and your fixed stare all on the boy on the stage.

Your eyes catch on the small braid on the side of his head before the gleam of his eyes hypnotizes you.

He’s handsome, you think dizzily at the back of your head.

“Don’t blink,” he says, his voice lower as if meant to be a whisper, “or else you might miss it.”

The show proceeds. A dove soars away from inside as he flips his hat; you flush at hearing the soft laughter that slips from him after. The cards that materialize out of nowhere descend to the floor. His fingers shuffle the cards while talking to keep the audience satiated; they fly off his hands, yet he doesn’t lose focus, stretching them mid-air with a sleight of hand. They fall apart and come together neatly and precisely.

His stage presence is demanding. It would be as if Lady Furina herself would accuse you of committing a crime if you were to look away for even a second.

Then, when he scans the crowd, busy twirling his cards in his fingers, his gaze catches your awed ones.

Something in the air shifts. Or maybe it’s that it slows.

A card slips from his grasp. A mistake. He blinks and breaks eye contact, laughing heartily to play it off. But you don’t believe it—not when you swore your limbs locked in place as well when lilac drilled into your soul.

You breathe, hands bracing against your chest. What was that?

You would’ve played it off as something you imagined if not for Lyney continuing to glance at you occasionally. His slip-up had been forgotten, as though it was all part of the show.

(Is it also part of the show when it seems he’s unable to tear his eyes off of you?)

Of course, the twins prove their worth. They showed you exactly why the people of Fontaine adore watching them through theatrical magic, cards in their sleeves, and defying logic.

You’ve shuffled to the edge of your seat as Lynette disperses into bubbles and comes back alive. You’ve held your breath as Lyney emerges from the box across he was in a moment earlier.

You’ve also been witness to the murder of Cowell.

CRASH.

The shatter of glass resounded along with the horrified gasps of the audience. Sickeningly enough, you could almost hear the crack of bones if you hadn’t been crying out in alarm. Yet, as they gape and shriek over the sight of a limp arm popping out, you find your gaze tracing back to Lyney, who stands motionless in front of the box.

When Lady Furina points fingers and has everyone siding against him, the guards escort the audience from the Opera House. All evidence presented left Lyney in a spotlight unlike his performance: with a disgusted and unamused crowd. Even you have to agree that it isn’t looking well for his case at all.

Yet all you can think of as you leave the room is that Lyney looked as terrified as everyone else was—much too raw of an expression for someone to accuse him of anything at all. He looked young and scared.

(His hands were shaking.)

The rest of your Fontaine trip is admittedly duller when you’re a little more familiar with its city and don’t have a yapping little fairy and a capable Traveler by your side. It’s hard not to hear chatter about the events that went down: Lyney’s trial, Aether volunteering to be his lawyer, and the truth behind the real murderer.

It solved a case beyond the murder of Cowell. Fontaine sure has its mysteries, and the crowd sure loves them as they would a magic show.

You keep your hands busy. Last night, you found yourself thinking back to the magic show, to deft fingers weaving through cards, to violet eyes that kept on flickering to you. By the time you snap back to reality, you’ve subconsciously drawn shapes and lines that suspiciously look like the magician himself: the curve of a smile, piercing eyes, and you entranced by it all.

Flustered, you crumple his face staring back at you out of sight. Yet you can’t bring yourself to throw it away.

You shove the last bit of garlic baguette in your mouth to furiously bat these unwanted thoughts away.

“Isn’t that Y/N?” Paimon’s voice is unmistakable, a short distance off.

You jump out of your skin, spinning to see Aether and Paimon waving and walking over to you. You thought they'd already left Fontaine after that; you wouldn’t blame them if they did.

“Y/N! We haven’t seen you since the Opera House performance,” Paimon exclaims, twirling around your head like a thrilled fly circling a trash can.

You hold onto her back, hoping she’ll stop making you dizzy. “We were escorted out before I could say goodbye. I couldn’t watch the court trial but heard it all turned out fine.”

“That’s right!” Paimon nods proudly. “Paimon helped a ton during it; you should’ve seen it! What have you been doing?”

“I found a fellow architect while visiting the cafe nearby, and we chatted for hours,” you say, remembering that your voice is hoarse for that reason. You also don’t tell them you couldn’t get a certain magician off your mind. “I learned a lot. I don’t regret coming here one bit.”

Paimon says something else that you’re sure you’ve nodded absentmindedly at while your gaze wanders over to the two familiar people a few feet behind, watching you three with cat-like eyes—and it’s not just because of Lynette’s unique features.

“Those are the magicians, right?” you gesture behind Paimon and Aether as if you haven’t already familiarized yourself with their faces.

Paimon nods. “Uh-huh. You should introduce yourself! They look like they want to talk.”

Something about that feels foreboding. “Um, no, it’s fine. I don’t want to be rude and interrupt your conversation.”

“No,” Aether says firmly. He seldom speaks; you might as well play along if he says so. “Besides, Paimon is right. Lyney wants to talk to you, you know?”

“Oh, yeah! He kept mentioning seeing someone sitting beside us! And it couldn’t have been Neuvillette because he said it was an unfamiliar beauty that bewitched this weak magician’s heart.” Paimon nods, even recalling how he’s enunciated each syllable theatrically.

“I’m sorry?” you blurt. “Lyney recognizes me? What did I do?”

“Paimon thinks it’s because Lyney is curious about who Lynette met! He was like that with us, too.” Paimon changes her pitch to match Lyney’s. “Are these your friends, Lynette?”

Aether’s eyes feel like they know something you don’t. “It won’t hurt to strike up a conversation with Lyney. He’s been shaken up since the trial.”

There’s something unspoken hidden in his words. “What does that mean?”

Paimon doesn’t wait for an answer, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you to where the twins are waiting. Aether chuckles as he jogs behind.

“Paimon, Aether,” Lyney says, almost sly, “You haven’t introduced us to your friend here.”

“Paimon can do it!” She floats on top of your head and does a bit of jazz hands. “This is Y/N, the one who commissioned us to escort them from Sumeru up to Fontaine.”

“Generously,” Aether adds.

It’s a little embarrassing to have the legendary Traveler and Paimon introduce little old you to a famous magician such as himself, but his grin is still excited.

“From Sumeru?” Lyney repeats, smiling wider when you nod—as if that crumb of attention is enough for him. “I see.”

He performs a bow around the same height as where your hands rest; he takes one, kisses the back of your palm, and smiles against your skin. “I’m Lyney, and she is my sister, Lynette.”

“It’s nice to see you again.” You smile at Lynette, who nods in return. Lyney straightens to look at his sister.

“We met when the Traveler and Paimon just arrived at the harbor,” Lynette sighs even without looking at her brother.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say, meeting Lyney’s eyes. The spot where he kissed is still warm—tingling. “Your show was incredible, despite what happened. I’m glad that the truth revealed itself.”

“Thank you.” Lyney’s gaze sharpens. “I saw you at the performance, yes. I was worried for a second you might steal the show if you were to come up on stage.”

You blink. “Are you saying—”

Lyney grins, “I apologize that the night had to end that way; it must’ve been horrifying. Say, what if I give you a little show right now to make it up to you?” Did he make it up to each one of his audience, too?

This is not a man acting “shaken up,” as Aether put it.

“You really don’t have to.” You glance at Aether and Paimon, silently asking for help; however, they’re too far gone, urging you to say yes with gestures and encouraging nods.

Lyney tilts his head, demanding your attention on him once more.

You sigh. “I would love to see it if you don’t mind.”

“Of course!” Lyney looks like he’s the sun bursting personified. “It would be a pleasure, ma chérie. Not to worry, it’s nothing life-threatening. I just need you to focus on me.”

Not that it’s hard. The others have become a dull buzz in your mind as Lyney holds your gaze. “Okay.”

Lyney smiles, much softer, satisfied. “Good. Now,” he tips his hat, “recently, I’ve received a little lesson from someone about the language of flowers. Are you familiar with them?”

“Not in Fontaine, no,” you mumble, watching his hands closely. You were expecting a rabbit to hop out of that hat any second now.

“Shame. But I suppose I wouldn’t want to spoil the fun.” Lyney snaps his finger, then deposits his hand inside his hat. “Hmm… Oh? Something’s not quite right. Would you mind looking into this hat for me to see if the flower is here?”

You hesitate. The hat is so close to him.

Swallowing, you nod, leaning in to inspect his hat at a careful pace. All you can sense is the faint scent of heat Lyney is emanating, the breath you two share, and the pounding of your chest. You swear you could also hear his, matching yours.

“The hat’s empty.”

Lyney smiles wider. “Yes, perhaps because you already have it.”

You jump back in surprise, your hands patting your body to see where he could have snuck the flower in. With your frantic movement, the flower falls off from what seems to have come from your head—Lyney catches it.

His mouth carves into a smirk, leaning to invade your personal space, his free hand coming up to tuck hair behind your ear. “Careful.”

Your face is burning. Plucking the flower out, the delicate and tender pink sears into your palm. “What does this flower mean?”

“What does it, I wonder?” Lyney whispers thoughtfully. “I suppose you’ll have to tell me once you find out.”

And when he inclines backward, it feels like you can breathe again. Time flows normally, and the people passing by seem much louder than before—as though you’ve surfaced from underwater.

Lyney clears his throat. “Shame I haven’t prepared myself a grand show for you, but I suppose that would call for another time, wouldn’t it?”

Lynette is looking at Lyney as if he is stupidly amusing.

“Thank you,” you say, burning, burning. “For the show, I mean.”

“That was a little weird,” Paimon whispers to Aether, but she is terrible with keeping volume and has everyone turning to her with varying expressions. “P-Paimon means that was good! Wow, Lyney! Isn’t that a different flower you gave us? That’s the flower Charlotte was talking about, right?”

“Rainbow rose?” Aether supplies.

“Yes! It means—”

“Ahem.” Lyney is quick to interrupt. “Lynette and I must take our leave now, if you don’t mind. It was fun catching up with you two.” You have to hold your ground and not look away when he hones in on your figure. “And it’s a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be a stranger. Look for me if you want more.”

His smile is a little devilish, you now realize.

“Bye,” Lynette says blankly, following after her brother, who seemed to be hurrying to exit.

His ears were red.

“You’re still staring.”

“I am not,” you rebuke hotly, flailing to cover Aether’s mouth with your hands. Yet all it does is bring your attention back to where Paimon and Aether are staring—the rainbow rose on your person.

Paimon and Aether yelp when you drag them away despite Lyney having already left the scene.

“Hey—! Don’t just go dragging Paimon around like a balloon like that! Did Lyney get to your head that much?”

“He did not.”

Paimon tilts her head, frowning. You shy away from her worried gaze, glaring at the flower instead. You still don’t know how Lyney managed to get it there; you hold it to your chest, where your heart is racing miles per minute because of his stupidly smug smile.

“What does this flower mean, Paimon?”

Paimon seems elated to be of help. “Easy! Charlotte told us that Rainbow Roses mean ‘passion’ and most notably ‘romantic encounters’!”

“Passion,” you curse. The rose seems as if it is staring back innocently, unknowing of the turmoil you’re going through because of it. “Romantic encounters.’ ugh.”

You can still remember how Lyney’s eyes twinkled as you felt his breath against your face.

“Ooh, he thinks he can trick me. He thinks he can affect me just because it pleases him to do so. I’ll show him. I’ll show him! I am not a blushing maiden!”

“You’re already very affected by this,” Paimon says, yet it’s lost by your newfound determination. Two can play at this game.

You’ve definitely been staying in Fontaine longer than what you told Aether and Paimon, but you can’t leave yet. Not when you found yourself walking to a flower shop to purchase a vase, fiercely digging through soil, turning gentle when your fingers reach for the Rainbow Rose. Not when you see it in the corner of your eyes as you try to sleep, and you find yourself daydreaming about a charming violet-eyed virtuoso.

It’s for research, you excused lamely at the hotelkeeper who didn’t ask why you’re extending your stay. In truth, not that you’d tell anyone. It was because you were hoping for another grand show from him. A farewell show for you—closure.

If you were to travel back home and get too drunk to think straight, Kaveh would learn about your crisis (romantic awakening?) and laugh at your face.

In hopes of looking for your Fontaine architect friend, you spot Lyney instead, on the side of the street surrounded by cheering kids. They clap and jump, and Lyney laughs. “One more, one more!”

“Again?” Lyney does an exaggerated sigh. “I’m starting to run out of cards in my sleeves. I’ve guessed my entire deck from your hands by this point!”

“But, Mr. Magician,” one of them whines, pouting up at him and blinking, “we want to see more! We want to know how you do it!”

“Alright, how about this, hm?” And then Lyney peers right at you. Ironically, you’re the one startled when you’ve been watching that entire spiel, and he hasn’t acknowledged your presence beforehand. “Y/N, would you mind giving these children a little show with me?” He gestures for you to come closer.

“What show?” you ask suspiciously, taking slow steps in case he pulls out another flower out of nowhere.

“You don’t have to worry,” Lyney laughs. “Will you be my assistant for this show? You are very familiar with this trick.”

“Please, we want to see!”

You falter at the little kids’ excited grins, especially when paired with Lyney’s pout and round eyes. “Okay, tell me what to do.”

His eyes do the little gleam again. “Stand in front of me, mon lapin.”

Your heart is skipping beat after beat, making itself known as you shuffle until Lyney is directly behind you.

“Relax, chérie, you just need to stand still.” It’s a little hard to relax when you feel his breath against the back of your neck, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting that, so you keep your chin high and relax your shoulders. “Good.”

He begins to speak louder to his awaiting audience. “I know it’s hard to keep your eyes off this beauty before me, but watch the hat for a surprise, alright?”

He flips it for his little audience, one hand resting on your waist and the other extended to hold his top hat. The proximity is almost suffocating. You watch with bated breath, and they complain about it being empty.

“Oh, is it?” Lyney hums, twirling the hat until it’s flipped upside down, presented right before you. “Perhaps I need my assistant’s help.” You snap out of your daze when you realize he’s talking to you. “Y/N, do me a favor and show them the flower inside.”

You reach inside the hat and, much to your surprise, feel a stem. You pull it out; the Rainbow Rose stares back at you, almost mocking you, saying he did pull out a flower out of nowhere. It's this trick again.

The kids gasp in awe and confusion—it’s all the same for Lyney, who snaps his fingers and creates magic like he was made to. Like magic was for him to summon with his hands.

“What? It was empty!”

“Where did that come from? I was watching Mister Magician’s hands the whole time!”

“Are you a magician, too?”

“No,” you say lamely, holding the rose, feeling Lyney still patiently standing behind you. Heat crawls up your neck. “No, I’m not. It’s all Lyney.”

“It’s all me,” Lyney echoes in amusement. “You’re quite magical yourself.” Finally, he spares you, pulling away to stand beside your figure. He doesn’t take the rose back—maybe even give it to one of the children. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “That’s enough for today. The sun is setting, and your parents might get worried.”

They pout and slump their shoulders, but Lyney has this older brother's sternness to him that has the children scurrying back home anyway.

You then realize having to stand in front of Lyney was unnecessary.

The flower is warm. Lyney’s eyes slip to yours.

“I didn’t even have to stand in front of you like that,” you complain, heart inclined to race off your body.

“Yes, but I feared that I would slip up again if I were to catch a glimpse of your face,” Lyney admits smoothly. His lips curl into a smirk when you stare wordlessly. “What? Don’t believe me? I had to improvise when I saw you watching from afar.”

“A great magician such as yourself? Making a mistake? I doubt it.”

“You already have such high expectations placed on me, chérie,” Lyney says, his smile easy, but his ears are a little red, poking out from his hair. “That’s no good. With no audience, I’m just plain ‘Lyney’ to you.”

“No trickery? No cards up your sleeves?” you play along.

Lyney doesn’t miss a beat. “No, though I do have a few more roses begging to be held by your hands.”

“They can keep begging.” Lyney grins wider when you glance down at his hands. “Do you give them off to everyone you meet?”

“Who do you take me for?” Lyney isn’t offended; he laughs, delighted. He is preening under the sunset—or maybe it’s your attention. “Of course not. At least, not like this.”

You stare, unimpressed. “Sure.”

“So cold, chérie,” Lyney sighs, plucking the stem from your fingers to slot it behind your ear. It seems he likes doing that. “Here I am, trying to get you to warm up to me, and you treat me like this.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll be going back home soon anyway.”

Lyney’s expression shifts into something more unrecognizable, his eyes dipping down to somewhere below your nose. “Oh. Avoiding attachment?”

You nod.

He grins, and he’s still so close. He knows how to entrance his audience, pulling you in until you forget to resist. Always watch the hands; yet Lyney could be digging a dagger to your side at this moment, and you wouldn’t even notice.

“I’m flattered you even want to avoid me because you know you’d get attached,” he purrs, tilting his head. Is Lyney just big on personal space?

“Don’t assume,” you retort. “I know how guys like you think. Even a magician as great as yourself can’t trick someone who’s already seen through it.”

“It would be easier if it were just a trick, wouldn’t it?” Lyney sighs, much to your confusion. “I take it that someone has told you what this flower means?”

You’ve nearly forgotten all about it. “Yes.” You find yourself unable to look directly into his eyes. “I know.”

But even with that, you can still feel his heavy gaze, pinning you down and threatening the strength of your knees. You suppose it comes with being a performer—watching his audience carefully, pinpointing each micro expression to say the right words.

“There doesn’t have to be any attachments.”

“What are you trying to say right now?”

Lyney’s reaches for your hip, sharing your gaze like he doesn’t know how to do anything else. “That you enamor me. That I am holding back from wanting you. I know you feel the same—you can never hide anything from a magician. But if you’re concerned,” he mumbles, “then this doesn’t have to mean anything. You may call it infatuation.”

You want to laugh. Or maybe you want to cry. Most of all, you want to nod helplessly, wrap your arms around his neck, and give in. It’s hard not to when he looks at you like that. “You want me that bad?”

“I almost want to disagree.”

“Almost?” Lyney gets closer, and you stop him with a palm on his chest. “We’re outside.”

Lyney grins. “Have you forgotten what Fontaine is also known for? No one would bat an eye. Love is in the air, and all that.”

“Absolutely not.”

“So still you’re letting me?”

You laugh this time. Letting him, as if you aren’t the one itching to pull him close and find out what he’s like behind the curtains. “Are you asking me as plain old ‘Lyney?’”

Lyney brightens, clearly pleased there wasn’t a ‘no’. “Yes.”

“No tricks?”

“No tricks. No strings.”

You let him lead you away into some dark alleyway. He kisses you like he was longing to do so all his life. You have only met him that fateful day, not even a week ago. But you claw at him like you get it—like he’s ruined you for anyone else the moment you shared gazes in the Opera House.

Romantic encounters, you quietly recall as Lyney swipes a thumb over your aching bottom lip.

You don’t see Lyney the day after that. And for some reason, it makes the itch worse. (Perhaps it’s because you’ve gotten a taste and can’t get enough.)

It’s mostly your fault, the sudden disappearance—you’ve cooped yourself up in the hotel room, buried your face in pillows, and screamed. You berate yourself for giving in, but another part of you—one that’s louder than any other thought in your head—wants to do it again. Wants to hold his handsome face in your hands and have him kiss you breathless. That was nothing like you had ever felt before.

You groan. It’s another new day. You might as well make some progress with your portfolio.

There’s a Café you’ve been visiting more often than not. Ordering a drink and spending a good chunk of your day sketching the view. Instead, you find yourself staring at Aether, Paimon, and Lynette seated at one of the tables.

Lynette’s eyes flick up to yours as she sips tea. She murmurs something to the other two, and you watch with amusement as Aether and Paimon’s heads snap to face you.

You let your gaze wander, eventually landing on Lyney, who is reciting his order with his charming-act-on smile, who is present because of course he is. You want to turn and run away, but that’d be letting Lyney win, and you’re nothing if not stubborn and prideful.

“Y/N!” Paimon greets once you’re within earshot, kicking her feet happily. “Good morning! What are you doing here?”

“Breakfast,” you reply, waving at them. Aether pulls a chair from the other table and gestures for you to sit. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nope!” Paimon swipes a fork from the table and digs in on the Ile Flottante, leaving nothing for Aether. “Lynette and Lyney told us about another show they’re holding to make up for the previous one.”

“Mouth full,” Aether reminds her, a little too late as the Ile Flottante spews from her mouth.

“Really now? Maybe I can pay properly for a ticket this time,” you laugh, nodding at Lynette. She smiles faintly, hiding it behind the rim of her cup. Lynette sure is the polar opposite of her twin brother.

A shadow looms from behind, the silhouette of a figure with an unmistakable top hat. You tilt your chin and see Lyney peering down at you with a sweet smile. You will yourself to keep your gaze focused on his eyes only and nowhere else below the nose.

Speak of the devil…

“Sweetheart,” Lyney says instead of exchanging pleasantries like a normal person.

“Lyney,” you reply in kind. Then you look away upon realizing that Aether, Paimon, and Lynette had been silently watching the exchange with muted, stunned expressions.

Lyney, holding a tray of drinks and food in both hands, scoots the chair next to yours with his ankle. “I wasn’t informed that Y/N would be joining us,” he says, setting the drinks and plates down like a waiter with a flourish. “You can drink mine. Let me order another.”

You hold onto his wrist as he makes his way back. He turns to you, surprised. “Let me at least pay for my own breakfast.”

Lyney grins, delicately withdrawing from your grip. He places a loud kiss on your hand. “Don’t worry about it.” And then leaves, because he can’t take no for an answer.

“Is it just me,” Paimon starts as you resign yourself to finishing Lyney’s drink (It’s your favorite, the one you always order), “or is Lyney acting weird around Y/N?”

Aether laughs. “There's definitely something going on. Don’t end up staying too long in Fontaine, now. What was it you told us? ‘A day or two’.”

You huff, your face turning unbearably warm. “Shut up, you two. I am here to do research, not to find a summer fling.” You’ve already failed, but they don’t need to know about that.

If you were to touch your lips with your fingers, you’d think of no one else but Lyney’s hands on your hips and his mouth swallowing your words.

Lynette clears her throat, a quiet but noticeable thing. “Don’t be fooled by my brother, Y/N.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m still keeping my safe distance.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean. Don’t be fooled by my brother.” She stares at you from the rim of her cup—something about that has you listening obediently. “No matter what he tells you, he always cares too much. No matter what you may think, he always gets hurt first.”

“That’s not…” You can’t imagine that. From the start, it’s always felt like he was the one who could do what he wanted.

No tricks.

Lynette is his twin, after all. She knows him best.

No strings.

Defeated, you sip on the straw with the same fervor of an aggravated hilichurl, and that’s the end of that.

Conversations during breakfast are much lighter when Lyney returns with a full meal as his treat. Celebration, he says. Celebration for what? Who knows? Lyney winked, but his glance directed to you said enough.

“You say that you don’t want to get attached, but you’re awfully close to the Traveler, of all people,” Lyney says offhandedly once the others have left for their own matters.

You lean against your seat, grinning. “Are you jealous?”

He doesn’t say anything, instead upturning his nose as if scrambling to regain control. You laugh, oddly endeared. Lyney turns his head away, trying to hide the smile that curls his lips upon hearing it.

“Hey,” Lyney says seriously, reaching for your hand. “Where have you been yesterday?”

“Why? Missed me?”

And because he’s Lyney, he takes his time kissing each of your knuckles. It’s more intimate than the whole ‘no strings’ arrangement you agreed on, but you suppose Lyney thinks that any physical attention is free reign. “What would you do if I said yes?”

“You’ll be fine,” you say slyly. “You’ll have to get used to it if you want to risk your heart just to get laid.”

He rolls his eyes, tugging you closer. “I’m not risking anything to get laid. Do you think so lowly of yourself, chérie?”

“Isn’t this all there is to it? Physical attraction,” you ask, genuinely confused.

Lyney blinks. “Of course, but—” His eyes flicker down, and his words trail off.

When you speak, you feel your breath bounce back from his skin—a testament to your proximity. “Lyney,” you whisper. For what? Urging him to continue? Urging him to close this distance? You’re not sure, either.

You have so much to ask. What do you mean? Why can’t you finish your sentence? Why don’t you just kiss me already? But it’s hard to speak; Lyney’s name is all you can think of.

You whisper his name again. His grip on your hands tightens and loosens, a frustrated frown creeping up his brows.

Your hand shoots out to reach for the back of his head and give in. He flinches for a second before relaxing completely.

His lips almost taste sweeter than his words. Almost as sweet as how he finds purchase on your waist and holds your chin during every kiss.

You pull away to breathe, missing how he leans closer to chase after you and pouting when he can’t. “Yeah. That—That didn’t have to mean anything. I just wanted to know what it felt like again.”

“Yeah.” Lyney licks his lips, his gaze unable to tear away from where yours are swollen. “Yeah, I know. You taste like my drink.”

Really, no one’s surprised you gravitate towards each other again, feeling like you’re soaring and melting into a puddle at the same time. Lyney doesn’t touch you where you both know would cross the line, but he grips near possessively to what he can, as if breathing you in and worshipping your skin.

You know after this, he’d go back on stage, fooling his audience with what’s invisible to the average eye, as if this never happened. You know this because this is your deal: satiate the feverish attraction you have with each other and leave once you’re satisfied. (But you also know that you’ll be thinking of his touch and his lips while you stare at the vase beside your bed.)

Lyney is a magician, first and foremost.

He hooks you in, and keeps all your attention to himself like he’d die without it. Then he disappears with a snap of a finger. He’s finished his trick, leaving you befuddled in your seat with more questions than answers.

As you drift off to sleep, all you can think of is that there are two roses now.

“Brother.”

Lyney looks up from where he’d been entertaining Rosseland, seeing Lynette with a stern face. “What? What happened?”

Her tail flicks. “You said you weren’t going to get attached.”

Lyney exhales softly, his eyes slipping shut. “I’m not.”

Lynette finds herself smiling softly. “I may just be your assistant, but you can’t lie to your own twin.”

He buries his face in his hands. With his sight gone, images of your face while whispering his name flash in his mind. His eyes fly open, mortified, his whole face red. “I don’t know how it happened. I didn’t think it’d be deeper than that.”

He was the magician in this, but it felt as if you were the one who tricked him instead.

It’s been two weeks since you first arrived in Fontaine. By this point, you’ve grown more familiar with its views than your own city. Having Aether, Paimon, Lynette, and even Freminet around doesn't make it any easier for you to feel at home.

And then there’s the Lyney Situation. You meet up most nights, more than that when he’s free from shows. He keeps seeking you out, and you keep letting him in. There was one night where Lyney spent the night instead of heading straight to the door—and those nights turned into two, then three, and then he finds any excuse to keep doing it.

It’s not like you could stop. He told you look for me if you want more, and you always want more, because how could you not? Lyney treats you like he’s never had to take care of anything more precious but still manages to render you breathless like you’ve never experienced thrill the way he gives it to you before.

But you still have to go back home. And Lyney still has his own life, has his secrets. He feels untouchable even when your arms are wrapped around his neck.

No strings attached can still work for summer flings, doesn’t it? And what are summer flings, if not just that?

Lyney hovers above with his hands caging your face. He’s grinning so wide—and you’ve seen all kinds of smiles on him with your time spent together, but it was never this genuine.

“You’re bad for me.” He says it like a confession, a prayer.

You raise an eyebrow. “What did I do to you?”

His hand trails down until he’s rubbing shapes on your hips. “Make me feel like I’m myself whenever I’m with you.”

At your silence, Lyney clears his throat. “But it’s not like that, don’t worry. I just mean—”

And how does that even make sense? He pours his heart, then later reveals it’s nothing but a decoy to keep this facade realistic.

“Oh,” you say.

That was the final act you’d been waiting for. The final trick—the farewell show.

And so you pack your bags—shoved your sketchbook back inside, face forward, and promise not to look back. Leaving Sumeru hasn’t even been this hard.

Aether and Paimon shouldn’t be surprised if they find you missing; they’d been the first to know that your stay in Fontaine isn’t meant to last forever. And you’ve warned Lyney about this. Avoiding attachments? It felt more like running away from your problem.

Lyney is a busy man on his own; you’re nothing but some architect from a different region who happened to get caught up with him at the right time.

You sigh and call for the aquabus.

A hand clasps around your wrist, pulling you to collide against a familiar chest. Lyney’s eyes are wide, almost insane. Sweat clings to his forehead, and his breath comes in frantic pants.

“W-What—”

Lyney’s eyes search your face. Or maybe it’s him trying to convince himself that you’re right there, in front of him. “You didn’t even tell me.”

“I—I’m sorry—”

“Were you just going to leave like that? Don’t you think I at least deserve a farewell?”

“Lyney, I’m sorry. I know, that was stupid.” You haven’t seen him with an expression like this before—so raw and broken, begging to be glued together with your hands. “I didn’t want to formally say goodbye because I knew I'd want to stay.”

“That’s stupid,” he repeats in agreement.

You breathe shakily, eyes scanning the stunned crowd. What’s The Great Magician Lyney doing here? Holding some stranger in his arms? That must be what they’re thinking.

“How did you even know I was leaving?”

Lyney’s eyes cut down to his hand, gripping a crushed rose. “I was paying a visit to an empty room.” Embarrassed, he tries to toss it away, but you take it before he can.

You wordlessly place it in its home: the spot behind your ears. You don’t tell him that the two other roses he gave you serve as bookmarks in the sketchbook you’ve used all up in Fontaine. Where you’ve drawn his face more often than not.

Lyney groans in frustration, his hands curling around your waist. “Is staying so bad?”

“It’s not like I’m leaving forever.”

And then you notice Lyney’s hands. They’re shaking uncontrollably, not unlike how it did during that incident—and with it came the frantic exhales, as if natural human breathing alone is already hard enough for him.

“Oh, Lyney,” you say softly. You drop your bags and embrace him fully.

He doesn’t hesitate in pulling you closer, burying his face on your neck. “Don’t—don’t,” he gasps, “don’t just try to leave like that.”

It’s hard seeing Lyney like this. He’s usually so composed and easy-going. He gulps in a deep breath, and his voice cracks as he calls for you. This must be something out of his control—something deeper than the back of his stage.

“Y/N,” he whispers.

“Lyney,” you call back as gently.

He swallows your surprised noise with his mouth, moving against you like you’re his last meal on Teyvat. He’s still shaking, but it has subsided the longer you stay pressed against each other. You’re not sure if it’s his Pyro vision or if it’s your skin burning at the thought of Lyney’s skin against yours. It’s searing.

This is different from the last kisses you shared.

Passion, you think dizzily, breathless from his hunger. This is passion.

“What was that for?” you ask, embarrassingly winded.

Lyney brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. He looks sad. As though he only comes alive when you’re with him. “A kiss to make up for your absence in the following weeks.”

“I can always come back,” you say. “No, I will come back. I promise. I just need to get home for a bit.”

“Okay.” Lyney nods, exhaling heavily. “Yeah. I know, I understand. Once you come back, come straight to me, alright?”

“Of course.” You lean in to kiss his cheek. You’ve never done it before because it always came off too intimate. And judging by the blush that explodes on his face, he thinks the same.

It all doesn’t matter. The line has been crossed days ago; you’ve just been turning away from seeing it.

He kisses you again. Then again. “Have a safe trip,” he says in between kisses. “I almost wish you commissioned me to escort you, regardless of the price.”

“What, you want 500,00?” The aquabus has arrived; Lyney grips you a little tighter, childishly willing himself not to see it.

“500,000 kisses, and more.” Lyney rests his forehead against yours, his captivating eyes keeping you still, the way it always does. “But you can give me that when you come back.”

( Before they were taken away from the stage for an investigation, Lynette comes up to her brother and asks, “What happened back there, Lyney? I thought you were about to twist your own fingers.”

He is unsure how to tell his sister that he saw your awed expression and nearly lost his wits.

“It was nothing,” Lyney admits, his face growing hot at recalling his slip-up.

It wasn’t out of embarrassment, no—not when the memory of your wide-eyed beaming expression and how his mind blanked along with the skip of his heart plagued his mind.

“It was nothing,” he repeats numbly. It’s not. It was the start of something. )

a/n ok just a quick rant this fic BROKE ME. it was like every other day i hated then loved writing this fic. im not used to writing fics this long so pacing is not my forte </3 but i just feel proud of myself for finishing this so HOPE U LIKED IT. if ure still reading until here ily ❤️

more a/n two lyney fics and two kissing scenes. i can’t even lie to myself. everyone can tell.

more more a/n it was halfway through writing this fic that i rewatched the magic show and only noticed lyneys hands were shaking and i GOT SO SAD OMF 😭😭😭😭

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #lyney fanfiction

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 5 months

Note

peacekeeper!coryo x reader where she's like the commanders daughter and she manipulates him to find out the real reason why hes in district 12 and not 8 where he should be. could include smut up to you! love your writing sm <333

In Control || Peacekeeper!Coriolanus Snow x reader

GIF by @youremyvioleta divider by @firefly-graphics

A/n: I really really love this one just bc I got to write reader in a manipulative light which was fun and interesting. I also had another request sorta but not really similar to this, ALSO I can’t remember for the life of me if there were any female peacekeepers especially in district 12 so let’s just imagine there weren’t any for the sake of the storyline :) 1/4? fics Im posting today

Warnings: smut! virgin reader, possessive, obsessive, manipulative, lowkey dark reader

Wc: 2,975 another long one!

Coriolanus Snow Masterlist

You had to see for yourself Coriolanus Snow in peacekeeper uniform. When news travelled around that Coryo was to be sentenced to years as peacekeeper in the districts, you nearly laughed at the idea of him being here.

Your father, Commander Hoff, leader of the peacekeepers here in district 12, even found it amusing himself. So here you were, leaned against a beam as you peer down at the new peacekeepers in training. What the hell was Coriolanus doing here in district 12 when you knew damn well from your father that he was supposed to be in district 8.

Of course, your eyes looked around for the one and only, Coriolanus Snow. You went to school with him but you highly doubted he knew you since you were a couple years below him. You often moved from the Capitol with your mother to district 12, with your father, so most of the times you weren’t even at school.

“You will rise together and you will fall together,” Your father’s loud voice echoes in the room. “You will be our eyes and ears out here on my base, and it will be your duty, to report anything suspicious you see because if you do not,” Coryo gives you a curious look as a light smirk adorns your lips.

He was probably wondering what the hell you were doing up there on the platform with the commander, and who you were. “You are as good as a rebel, yourself.” Your father concludes as you straighten up and push yourself off the beam.

Your father watches you with a warning look as you ignore him; walking down the steps, your footsteps echoing as you knew the peacekeepers were fighting hard not to look away from the commander. You honestly preferred being in the districts with your father than in prison that people call the Capitol.

You slowly study each peacekeeper before you stand infront of Sejanus Plinth. “A plinth back in the districts?” You say with a hint of amusement as you study him. His hair shaved, his expression cold. “Y/n.” Your father warns.

Coriolanus was the first to break his gaze from your father as he looks at you. Y/n. “I think there’s somewhere you must be?” Commander Hoff spoke with such sternness it made you gulp. “Yes, Commander,” You lightly sigh, addressing him professionaly, before giving Sejanus and the man beside him, Coryo, one final glance.

Coriolanus couldn't help thinking about you, for a few reasons. You intrigued him, not only because he thought there were no females at all in the base, but also because he found you attractive. Very attractive.He had a feeling he has seen you before, maybe around the academy, but he wasn't sure on it.

He wondered what the hell you were doing here at base. Maybe you were here as punishment as well, but that didn't explain why you were up on the platform beside Commander Hoff.

"Let's go!" Coriolanus shifts his attention outside as he hears a whistle being blown. Sejanus and Coryo walk side by side onto the open field where Commander Hoff and you stood at the front.

The two of you make eye contact before he quickly looks away and stands in the front row, beside Sejanus. "Today you will be participating in physical exercises..." Commander Hoffs words became muffled to Coriolanus as he only pays attention to you.

You were stood beside your father, a clipboard in one hand as you tap the tip of your pen against your bottom lip. That made it clear that you were probably not here as punishment. Your uniform was the same except slightly altered. "Go!" A whistle blows as Coriolanus stands there confused because he wasn't paying attention.

"Do you think your special, boy? Get on the ground and do pushups, now!" Commander Hoff barks as he looks around before quickly following along side the others. You watch in amusement, your father shakes his head at you as you try and stifle a giggle.

You write down notes on your clipboard as you listen to your father instruct the peacekeepers. You were training to be the first female commander in history. Focused on Coriolanus practically the entire time, you sauntered past your father to where he was, on the ground doing pushups.

It was a particulars hot day so they all were wearing white singlets with their blue pants. You were secretly salivating the entire time you watched Snow perform the exercises, his muscles bulging, his skin slightly covered in a layer of sweat.

He looked fucking hot. The few times you saw him around the academy, he looked handsome, ethereal, with his blonde locks, but now with his buzzcut, he looked like a complete different person, he was a walking sex appeal. You lightly bite your fingernails as you watch the way his dog tag would dangle from his neck when he was doing pushups.

Your father raises an eyebrow as he watches you sit on Coriolanus' back whilst he was doing a pushup. Coriolanus grunts at the sudden weight on his back. You smile in satisfaction as you hear him grunting. Music to your ears.

You sitting on his back only made Coriolanus push harder as you let out a small yelp, placing a hand on his shoulder to stabilise yourself. Your jaw dropped at his speed, it was as if you weighed nothing. His stamina was insane as he kept the same rapid pace.

"What do you think you are dong Miss Y/n?" Your father raises an eyebrow at you, "Extra punishment, Commander Hoff," You beam at your father, patting Coriolanus' firm back as he Snow lets out a groan. Hoff hums before walking away, his hands behind his back.

When you hear the final whistle blow, you get off his back. Coriolanus stayed laying on the grass, his chest going up and down rapidly as sweat ran down the side of his face. You pulled out a handkerchief from your pocket with your initials embroidered in fancy writing and hold it infront of him.

He quirks an eyebrow at you, your roll your eyes before taking his hand and placing the lacey handkerchief in his hand. "Thanks," He says in a hoarse voice. You don't break eye contact with him as he wipes his face free from sweat.

Coryo hands your handkerchief back to you but you shake your head, "Keep it," Is all you say before turning around and leaving him there dumfounded. The thought of why he was here in district 12, and not 8–where he was supposed to be–still lingered in the back of your head.

For the next couple of days there was an unspoken tension between the two of you. Sexual tension to be specific. You were still itching to know what his business here in district 12 was. You were attracted to him for sure, how could you not when he looked like that. But your curiosity overpowered your desire for him.

You were walking along a quiet corridor before you felt a hand reach out and grab you, pulling you into a room. You let out a muffled scream, a hand firmly on your mouth as you felt someone's breathe fanning your neck.

Your eyes were wide in shock before the person spins you around and he reveals himself. He was dressed in his full attire, hat and everything included. You let out a sigh of relief, all while he watches you. "What the fuck are you thinking?" You whisper yell at him, as you quickly lock the door behind you.

"I wanted to introduce myself-" You scoffed loudly, turning your head to the side. "You think I don’t know you, Coriolanus Snow?" You raise an eyebrow at him as his tongue wets his bottom lip. Truth be told, Snow actually never mentioned his name to you. He just assumed you didn't know who he was. "I just wanted to properly introduce myself to you, Y/n.”

"Well, that is not a very good reason to pull someone into a room without warning," You shrug your shoulders at him as he stays quiet, studying you as you study him back. Tilting your head slightly, you open your mouth, "You have another motive, Coriolanus,"

He swallows, "I want to see you again-" "why-" "privately." Oh? All the times you and Coriolanus would see each other was always out in the open with prying eyes everywhere, particularly from your father. You'd be lying if you said you weren't purposely whoring yourself for him just to get information out of him. From your lack of response, Coryo speaks again.

"What are you doing here on base? You don't seem to be here for punishment-" You let out a low chuckle, stepping a few steps forward towards him. "I could ask the same for you, Have you really no clue?" Coriolanus purses his lips, looking away before meeting looking over your face.

"Your initials on your handkerchief..." He starts, ignoring part of your question as you lips start to quirk up, "Are you Commander Hoff's daughter?" "Maybe I am. Does that bother you?" You step even closer to him as you notice his breathe starting to hitch.

"No," He breathes out.. "But what would your father think if he found out that you and I are here alone, when we shouldn't be," A smirk forms on his lips as your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips.

"Truthfully, I couldn't care less," You whisper before pressing your lips against his. Coriolanus froze when your lips touched his, you honestly thought he might just shove you away. You were pleasantly surprised when you felt his hand coming up to grip the base of your neck, deepening the kiss. It was as if he was a starved man, feasting on his food. Like you were oxygen that he desperately needed.

He wrapped his arms around you and kissed with such savageness. The heat was like wildfire. The tension, the waiting. Days of expecting him to make a move on you. After the wandering eyes and the way he would make up any excuse to touch you or say something to you.

You slid your fingers across his broad, firm shoulders. One of his large hands gripped your loose locks, tugging at it, while his other hand reached down and tugged at your shirt. You pull back for a second as you take off your shirt, your bra covered chest on display as he wastes no time in unclipping it.

Coriolanus palmed your breasts hard enough to make you hiss against his mouth. You kissed him deeply, your fingers slid behind his neck and along the tendons of his neck. Coryo reaches up to take his hat off before you stop him, "Keep it on," You breathlessly say as Snow smirks before continuing his assault on your lips.

You tore your clothes off in front of him as he gapes. A surge of confidence ran through you as you grab his hand and push him against you. His rough hands dragging up your body, feeling every curve and dip he found to be perfect.

Snow kissed across your breasts and once again tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling at it until you whimpered and tilted your head back. His mouth was at the base of your neck and he kissed and nipped along your collarbone until he reached a point where you moaned gutturally and arched against his still fully clothed body.

Coriolanus pushed you back, your ass bumping into the only piece of furniture that was in the room which happened to be a desk. He pushed your legs apart and sank into you with a single, hard thrust. The he paused and pressed a kiss against your lips before he started to move.

You bit back a cry of pain and forced yourself not to stiffen or pull away. Your whole façade crumbling as he thrusts into you. It hurt. You knew it might, if not done slowly at least. But the pain still caught you off guard. The abruptness of it. He most likely assumed there had been others before him by the way you sauntered around the base and interacted with the other young peacekeepers.

You were glad it hurt. You were whoring yourself for him. You had seduced him the moment he made it abundantly clear that he wasn't keen on sharing his story of why he was here. You had manipulated him because you wanted something from him. You were greedy.

You weren't just going to settle on the undivided attention he'd give you. No. You wanted him, body and soul. Coriolanus was so much bigger that his frame practically enveloped you. His hands were tangled in your hair so tightly you could barely twitch your head as he met your eyes and moved inside of you at an almost inhumane speed.

His jaw was tense. His expression partially shielded from his hat. But the grip he had on you, and the speed he was going at, you could tell you were his. And similarly, he was yours. You forced yourself not to show any signs of discomfort as your threw your head back, eyes screw shut, when his fingers started playing with your stiff, perked nipples.

You moved your hips to meet his movement and clenched around him, your fingernails dragging across his clothed back. You lock your feet below his hips to drive him further in driving him crazy as a string of curses fall from his lips.

Coriolanus hisses, dropping his head against your shoulder as he thrusts deep inside of you. The angle of his movement, the intensity between them wasn't just his–you whimpered and gasped near his ear.

His pace faltered slightly, and he lifted his head. His hands moved away from your tits, caught hold of your hands and intertwined your fingers together. He kissed you. Deep, passionate kisses that made your chest hurt as you returned them.

He shifted his pace. Slower. The angle was different, the way your naked pelvis met his as he pushed into you, and you realised with alarm that it was tearing your sense of control away from you. And you desperately wanted that control back or otherwise you’d be vulnerable.

Coriolanus was kissing you. Hot. Bruising. Almost punishing kisses, as he gripped your hands and kept driving into you relentlessly. The pain had dulled to a fainter throb. Several more hard, deep strokes, then Coryo's hips jerked, and he gave a deep moan and dropped his head down in the crook of your neck.

His breath dragged across your skin as he panted near your ear and kissed your shoulder. You were still against him. You were suddenly aware of the rough table biting into your skin. And that the room was hot. Coriolanus stayed pressed against you and still inside of you for several seconds and then he abruptly tensed and pulled away.

He expression was drawn, and he didn't even look at you as he zipped up his pants. You slowly sat up, watching him carefully. He was progressively getting paler and paler as his hands lock behind his neck. His expression was both disbelieving and horrified.

"Fuck-" He said under his breath, he seemed devastated. And part of him was. He just fucked you. The daughter of his commander. He may have just screwed up his opportunity to see the one person he had risked everything for. If Commander Hoff found out that Coriolanus fucked his daughter, he could be transferred to another district, away from her. Or even worst, he was going to be executed.

His desire for you got the better of him and his initial plan. But he just couldn't resist you. Coriolanus clapped his hand over his mouth and looked over, meeting your eyes. Whatever he was battling inside his head seemed to be giving him a panic attack.

He swallowed visibly, closed his eyes and adjusted his hat. Then he opened his eyes, he seemed to have composed himself. He drew a deep breath and turned to you. His expression tense.

As he looked at you, his eyes dropped to your legs and he blanched white. You couldn't believe someone could even possibly blanch that white. "You were a virgin?" His voice was rasping. Coriolanus felt his hole that was dug out for him was getting deeper and deeper.

"Yeah," You say seeming unbothered. Snow looked like he was about to be sick. His jaw was clenched as he kept staring at you. "I–would have been gentler–if I had known," He finally said.

You slowly got off the desk, the middle of your legs aching as you put your clothes back on as Coryo watches. "I didn't really want you to be," He pressed his lips together.

"Fuck I'm not going to be able to see her," He muttered as his hands once again lock around his neck as your heart dropped upon hearing what he said. You smile bitterly to yourself. You got what you wanted. You found out what he was doing here. You'd grieve over the cost later.

Maybe he couldn't change course now. It was set. Obsessive. Possessive. You had him; possibly forever, if you didn't decide to use your cunningness. You had him. For whatever reason, you had him. Now you had to find a way to take advantage of it.

A slip of words to your father and he could be transferred to another district, away from her, or even hanged for taking your -virginity. You knew you had him wrapped around your finger now. And by the way Coriolanus stared at you and swallowed hard, horror in his eyes, he knew it too.

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volensnolenss · 4 months

Text

“𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄, 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓?”

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: he has no other choice when you’re silent and look so pretty;

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽: nsfw!mdni, reader is 18 and Gojo is 30, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare, teasing, praise, he calls you ‘baby, sweetheart, little girl’ and etc;

“Who is she?” You walked down the steps and watched the woman leave the house. You stared at Gojo, who was reluctantly sorting through the papers.

“What’s that? Is my little girl jealous?” You unwillingly approached him, and he laughed at you and at the same time pacified your suspicion by stroking your back.

You were wearing a damn short milk dress with a satin bow on the chest. The fabric of your outfit was thin enough for him to feel your soft and delicate skin that hides underneath.

“Yes, I'm jealous. And you still haven't answered my question.” You gave in to his power and sat comfortably on his lap, lifting the fabric even higher, giving him a view of your hips.

Your appearance is the epitome of youth and charm. Gojo can't help but look at you, his eyes fall limply down, looking at you and you know it perfectly well. He is so lucky to see such a sweet girl like you every day and wake up in the morning in your arms.

“She was in the same class with me.” You ignored his words and looked at him sullenly anyway. Gojo's hand gently rested on your thigh, stroking under your dress, “Baby, you love me, right?” he squeezed your thigh with one hand and played with the satin ribbon on your chest with the other.

You were silent because of your stubborn nature, although you love him with all your heart, especially his caresses and the way he treats you.

“You can stay quiet all you want” He lifted you up in his arms, “But silence doesn't last forever.” You got your way by pulling his trigger, smiling slightly at his phrase.

And he likes to be fooled by your words. You're so sly and so charming at the same time that Gojo can't do anything about it.

“Satoru, it’s too big!” He plunges only his tip into your wet cunt, but already forces you to whimper under him, “Shh, sweetie, you’re not going to upset me?” He continued to slowly penetrate you, which made you sense every inch of his cock, “You are as always my good and little girl. Only you can make me feel great.” Gojo whispered in your ear how he’s going to fuck you so much that you would be pleased and you would beg him to do that several times, exchanging your principle for this pleasure.

He is blown away by the way his cock thrusts against your wet walls, you hug and take Satoru so pleasantly that he is ready to spend the whole night just on you.

“I-I can’t- mhm Satoru!” You whimpered at how deliciously he hits the very bottom of your pussy, and a pleasant tingling gradually builds up in the bottom of your stomach, “Sorry but you’re so pretty when you’re crying” With his thumb, Gojo carefully wipes the tears from your cheek, looking at your shiny long eyelashes and a look asking for as much as possible.

“And now it's your turn to answer the question.” His hand squeezed between your shaking thighs and his finger lazily drew circles on your clit. Gojo knows that he is ruining you with this, but to see you, completely carried away by your pleasure, start to smoke out what he wants to hear is something that will satisfy his inner demon even more.

“Yes, yes, yes love you so mu-uch” You meow under him, reaching your peak, squeezing his cock. How Gojo likes to turn you into a wet whining mess of a sweet and cold-blooded girl, seemingly indestructible at first glance.

“That’s it, sweetheart. I know that my dick makes your head dizzy.” You moan with bliss, arching your back like a cat, feeling like a vertebra and tightly wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling Gojo as close to you as possible.

“You make it so great-” He spreads your legs wider, “I know, it’s too much but have a little patient, angel. Fuck- I’m close.” his pace becomes terribly sharp and aggressive, he pushes into your poor tight pussy even deeper, making sure that your walls completely encircle his large cock, he cum, trying to completely fill you and so that not a single drop flows out in vain.

You moan softly when he pulls away from you, leaving you without a feeling of pleasant fullness.

He looked at you like a painting he created himself: You try your best to press your hips together so that his cum doesn't leak out of your aching pussy, but he grins at you “Nah, you're doing wrong” and Gojo spreads your leg again and with his long fingers fuck it back, “Satoru…”

He grins and slowly removes his fingers from your core. “Baby, you did so well.” He calmed your trembling legs, leaving kisses on the places where he held you tightly. “Have I exhausted you that much?”He cooed to you, getting close to your face, brushing the wet hair off your forehead.

“It's a pleasant tiredness.” He laughed, but you were so lazy to argue when Gojo caressed your emaciated body so gently that you just didn't say anything.

He lay comfortably on his side next to you, stroking you, tracing the curves of your body Satoru's lips clung to your temple “I can conclude that only my cock can get you to talk.”

#jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo headcanons #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru smut

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primofate · 11 months

Text

Confessions Series - Part 1: Overheard [Genshin Impact Male Characters]

Note: Welp I had the itch to write again so here I am. Though sleep deprived because baby keeps waking up every 3 hours to feed... I wanted to do this haha. Based on @soulprompts “I love you” prompts. What other character should I do?

Warnings: haven’t written in a while please excuse and tell me about pronoun slips, I’m sleep deprived, not proofread, some are just concepts of liking someone, having a crush on them, while some are full blown love confessions. SOME ARE ANGSTY, chose only the male characters I wanted to write for instead of forcing myself to do all of them.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader

Other works in this series: (Part 2 - Description)

Scenario: Talking to a friend about how you feel about him. Unbeknownst to you, he was listening, hidden round the corner. What does he do?

Aether

“He’s sweet,” You simply answer when asked what you like about Aether. “I mean, he’s a simple guy. He’s not a mystery, it’s not hard to read him nor to get along with him. I guess that’s one of the reasons why a lot of people like him.”

“Uhuh,” your friend drawls, their head lazily resting on their hand. “but you don’t just like Aether. You seriously LIKE him,”

You’re rendered speechless by the statement for a second, tripping over your first words, “Well--I mean--” and as if realizing you’re making a fool of yourself by speaking in garbles, you recover. “Yeah, I guess...” You don’t know why you admit to it, but it’s not like your friend didn’t already know.

What he does:

Is tempted to immediately walk up to you and reconfirm the conversation.

Stops himself for a minute and replays the whole conversation in his head, probably once, twice and maybe a third time.

Second guesses himself, but when he finally goes through all possible options, he realizes there’s no mistaking the overheard confession.

All the while, Paimon is nagging him to go talk to you. “You didn’t hear wrong! Stop thinking too much, hurry and go!” Ends up being pushed out into the open by his flying companion.

“Erm...Ahem” he coughs into his fist. “I...didn’t mean to eavesdrop...Y/N, sorry, but... can we continue this conversation somewhere else? Somewhere...a little more private?” and the shy smile he gives you is a tell tale sign that he had most likely felt the same.

Albedo

“His schedule is always busy. He has his hands full with Klee, on top of all the work he needs to do,” was your excuse to your friend when asked why you haven’t confessed to the alchemist yet. “I don’t think Albedo has time for this type of thing, you know? He doesn’t need a distraction.”

What he does:

His logical side agrees that he doesn’t need a distraction.

But the other part of him doesn’t mind if its you.

Pauses for a moment, thinks about it for a second, before confronting you about it just minutes later.

“...Schedules can be made flexible, Y/N,” you jump at his sudden voice. “Just as distractions...can sometimes be a good thing,” Albedo stretches a hand out to you. “...Care to test how good of one you can be to me?”

Alhaitham

“Y/N, Alhaitham is FAR from stupid. There’s no way he hasn’t figured out that you have a crush on him,”

“Shush!!” You swerve around to your friend, ducking a little, as if that would help you become invisible. “People could be listening, besides, if that’s true, then it’s even worse. It means that he knows, and probably has no interest in me, so let’s just forget about it, ok?”

What he does:

..................................No he doesn’t know. Sure he’s smart but............he could be dense when it came to these things. That, or he just didn’t know what to do.

Does not confront you about it immediately. In fact he turns around and walks away without being spotted, opting to think about his next steps instead of just rushing into the conversation.

Lo and behold a few days later he’ll show up in front of you with his usual stoic expression.

“Y/N,” he starts, and you freeze on the spot, looking up at him, blinking.

“Y-Yes?” You haven’t seen nor heard from him in days and as usual, you attributed it to him being busy. Little did you know that he had been mulling over how to talk to you.

“I heard your conversation with (your friend) the other day,” straightforward was his answer to everything, even in this particular situation.

It takes you a few seconds to internalize his words. You’re not even sure which conversation he means. You talk to (your friend) a lot. Your brows start to furrow in confusion, until he clarifies.

“...I wouldn’t say that I completely have no interest in you,” he starts, and your shoulders tense up, now realizing which conversation it was. You could feel your cheeks start to burn, all you wanted to do was run away.

Alhaitham holds back a sigh, “...Anyway, here is no place to talk about this... I’ll meet you at Puspa Cafe tonight, if you’re free,”

You’re FAR from stupid too, and knew exactly what he was trying to do.

Ayato

“Besides why would the Lord Commissioner even look at someone like me?” you hiss at your friend who was trying to persuade you that Ayato also had the hots for you. It just seemed a little delusional to you.

“He takes the chance to rile you up every time he sees you. He’s obviously doing it on purpose,” your friend counters. You roll your eyes up to high heaven.

“He does that to everyone...” you conclude, knowing that Ayato had the habit of--though you don’t know if intentionally--giving his servants a scare.

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to be so jealous,” your friend quips back, you send them a quick glare before going back to doing your own work.

What he does:

Doesn’t even bat an eye. Smirks as he hears the whole story.

Confidently reveals his presence to the two of you, chuckling.

“Jealousy doesn’t usually paint a beautiful colour,” he starts, the overly pleasant smile on his face. You straighten up immediately, eyes changing into saucers when you realize he had heard the whole thing. You open your mouth to explain, but he beats you to it.

“But I must say it looks a little different on you, Y/N, almost charming,” The side of his lip quirks up the slightest bit into a subtle grin. You bite your lip, there he is again trying to rile you up, maybe (your friend) was right.

“...Is there anything I can do for you Lord Commissioner?” you ask, trying to stray away from the subject. He only chuckles.

“You’ll find that there are a LOT of things you can do for me, Y/N. Start by accompanying me to tea, hm?” He wasn’t really asking, it was almost a command.

You wished your friend snickering on the side would just shut up.

Cyno

“...He’s a little intimidating don’t you think? I don’t know why you like him so much,” your friend comments, slacking off on their pile of paperwork. You roll your eyes at them.

“Maybe because he works hard, unlike other people,” you shake your head a little.

“As General Mahamatra he’s supposed to work hard. Just admit that you have weird tastes.” your friend counters, still procrastinating on their share of work.

“Okay, so what if he’s a little vicious in his ways? He’s just doing his job. Now, it would help me if you started doing yours as well,”

What he does:

Doesn’t know what to do.

Stands hidden for quite a long time. The subject has already moved on and away from him.

Torn between revealing himself now or later.

Can’t think properly so exits from the situation and comes back later that same day, when you’re still working with your friend.

As he approaches your table, your friend notices him first. (Your friend) nudges you with their elbow, tilting their chin up to let you know that someone was approaching.

You pick your head up, and feel yourself go rigid when you see that it’s Cyno. At first you think to yourself that he might not be here to talk to you, maybe he’s just about to walk by...but he stops in front of your table and you’re left to wordlessly look up at him.

There’s a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

“...I value the high praise that you give me,” he starts and you immediately want to duck under the table and hide.

He heard.

“O-Oh, G-General Mahamatra, you heard that...It’s...nothing, hard work deserves to be praised...” you avert your gaze down to the papers you were working on, pretending to continue and be busy with them.

There was an awkward pause, your eyes darting up towards him for a second, checking if he was still looking at you, before breaking away again and furiously flipping through papers.

“...Do you want to play some TCG?”

“Huh?” You end up with an incredulous look on your face, trying to gauge if he was serious. His face is still blank, but the usual tenseness in the way he carried himself gave way for a barely seen relaxation. It was hard to spot, but it was there.

You ended up sighing a little in what you could only describe as relief, giving him a lopsided smile. “Sure, but go easy on me, I haven’t played in a while,”

“That’s fine. Perhaps a daily practice session will do you good,”

Dainsleif

“Mysterious, aloof, disappears into thin air... A man like that? You probably should stay away, Y/N. You don’t know what he dabbles in,” (Your friend) warns, looking at you with genuine concern.

“Perhaps he has some secrets...but I don’t think he’s a bad guy at all. I’ve spent some time conversing with Dainsleif here and there,” you continue to wipe the tables, not noticing that the man you were talking about had long entered the tavern already and was now standing behind the two of you.

“At least he’s handsome, there’s that,” (Your friend) adds.

“Sure, but that’s not the only reason I like him,” you laugh.

What he does:

Wonders if he heard the conversation right and overanalyzes what you mean by “like” him.

Either way it stirs a strange emotion in him, one that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Prefers to get things over with and thinks there’s no harm in confronting you immediately.

You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Thinking that it was a customer you turn around with a pleasant smile, only for it to slowly dwindle down into a shocked expression.

Dainsleif.

“Y/N,” he nods his head towards you casually. You gulp, force a smile, and nod back. “Hi, you’re early today,” just as your friend slips away from the conversation. Dainsleif doesn’t even spare them a glance.

He doesn’t have much to say about your comment of him being early. He doesn’t particularly know why he was early today either. Perhaps...fate would have him hear the conversation between you and (Your friend).

“Yes, well, it looks like there were benefits to being early today,” he meets you eye to eye, the intensity in his gaze almost makes you blush from your neck all the way up to the top of your head, but you fought the giddiness back.

“...What can I get you?” there’s a shiver that threatens to run up your spine, wondering if your deflection was successful. Dainsleif closes his eyes momentarily, before opening them with a strange sense of courage.

“Your company,”

Diluc

“It’s been years,” (Your friend) says, the two of you looking up at the massive oak tree of Windrise. They glance at you from the side of their eye before continuing. “Are you still in love with Diluc?”

There’s a breeze that passes, almost melancholic, and partly whispered of sorrow. “...I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him.” You pick your hand up to rub at your arm. “Jean, Kaeya, Diluc and I...So many things have changed since we were kids...but I don’t think that spot for Diluc will ever go away,”

“Does he know, at least?” (Your friend) asks and you half scoff.

“I’m not sure, I get the feeling he does, but doesn’t act on it. Which is why...maybe the only way to solve this emptiness is to leave Mondstadt altogether.”

“Out of sight, out of mind huh?” (Your friend) claps your back, and turns around to start walking away with you.

What he does:

Internally a mess of emotions. Doesn’t know where to start.

but he’s just standing there and he’s stuck watching (your friend) and you turn around to come face to face with him.

He looks at you, a wave of memories and emotions flashing through his mind all at once, it almost overwhelms him.

“D-Diluc,” you stutter, heart freezing in your chest. You see him take a steadying breath in, prying his gaze away from you and over to (Your friend).

“(Your friend), could you give us a minute?” he asks. (Your friend) obliges, passing you a quick glance before going ahead on their own. Another breeze runs by, ruffling his long red hair.

“...I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” you start, and yet he doesn’t say anything, prompting you to continue talking. “...You don’t have to think about it too much, it’s just silly--”

“I wasn’t sure,” he cuts you off, eyes drawn to the ground now. “I wasn’t sure...if you really felt that way.”

The statement somehow exasperates you. “You weren’t sure? All those times I stayed by your side when everyone else left--” then it hits you. “Or were you scared, Diluc?”

The quick grimace in his expression tells you the answer. His reply comes a few seconds later, “I was, I still am,” but he picks his head up, and finally looks you straight in the eye. “...but this time...” his fists clench on his side. “This time give me the chance to show you how much I really care about you,”

He was not going to lose you too.

Itto

“Seriously?! Itto? Arataki Itto? Are you for real?” (Your friend) announces to nearly half of the food stall, the other customers swerving around to look at the two of you.

"Oh, say it a bit louder why don’t you?” You roll your eyes at your friend and continue eating.”

“Sorry. I just--Out of all the people you could choose, your huge crush is on that big brute??” your can tell by the look on your friend’s face that they think you have weird tastes.

What he does:

Butts in without even thinking of the conversation. Has no clue what’s going on.

“Crush?!”

You and your friend startle, swerving around to see none other than the oni with his hands on his hips. “Y/N?! You planning on crushing me?!” then he guffaws with laughter, slapping his knees in the process. “Yeah right, you’re no match for me!”

Your previously gaped open mouth slowly closes and your shoulders relax, sighing. You’re a little disappointed he doesn’t get it at all. Your friend shakes their head with a long sigh. “You stupid oaf, we don’t mean it that way...”

Itto’s head tilts sideways, a genuinely confused look on his face. “No? Then... Watcha all talkin about?”

You grab your friend’s arm and pull them forward the slightest bit. “It’s not important! Actually, we better get going--”

“Y/N has a CRUSH on you, idiot! Y/N LIKES you!” Your friend explodes, patience long gone.

Itto blinks at the confession, his eyes darts towards you, “...Oh,” then there’s the slight tugging at his chest, he can’t help but beam and smile silly. “Yeah? You’re not too bad yourself Y/N! I like you too!”

You’re not sure if he really understood the confession in its entirety.

Kaeya

“It’s all just fun and games with Kaeya. It doesn’t mean anything,” you laugh sheepishly, yet you rub the back of your neck a little.

“...Do you want it to be just fun and games?” your friend chides, and there’s a moment of silence. The two of you just sitting there already knowing the answer, it’s almost uncomfortable, until your friend sighs.

“...Let’s change the subject,”

What he does:

responds immediately. Will not wait a second longer to come out of his hiding place and ask about what he just heard.

“How about let’s not?” Kaeya emerges out of nowhere, slipping into the seat next to you at the cafe. His poise is confident and instantly his head lazily places itself into the palm of his hand, gaze lingering at you.

“Snowflake, I had no idea you felt like that,” his voice is smooth like ice and you bite your lip to keep yourself from saying something stupid.

“...I didn’t say anything though?” you countered, trying to evade the conversation. Your friend watches on with interest.

“Silence speaks volumes, Y/N,” Kaeya scoots even closer to you, your shoulders touching each other. However, he maneuvers his arm around to lay on the seat behind you. “So if you’re opposed to what I’m about to do, better speak up,”

He leans closer, inch by inch, he waits for you to say something.

You stay silent.

He grins.

Scaramouche

“Hat guy? He’s brutal. But who am I to comment on your tastes, Y/N. You’ve always been weird,” (Your friend) chides, watching as you go over the bookshelf again.

“Stop calling him that,” You murmur under your breath, more focused on finding the right book for your research. “That’s not his only distinctive feature, you know,” you continue, still engrossed in looking for a book.

“Oh? What else are his “distinctive features”?” (Your friend) drawls, rolling their eyes.

You hum a little, then plop on the ground cross-legged, wanting to get a better look on the last row of books of the Akademiya’s library. “...His eyes,” you simply answer. “They’re a beautiful shade of violet-blue...He’s always glaring at someone half of the time but he actually has very pretty eyes,”

There’s silence and you finally get the peace you need to concentrate. However, that silence is broken by a voice that you know all too well.

What he does:

is amused.

thinks its cute pathetic.

will still look angry but will have a hard time actually being angry.

will be cocky.

“My eyes, huh?”

It’s hard to completely turn around in your sitting position, so you do the best you can to turn, side eye landing on Scaramouche’s form. He has his arms crossed as usual, but there’s a smug smirk on his face. “Didn’t know it was that fascinating to you, bookeater,”

It was supposed to be an insulting nickname for you, who always had your nose in a book, but you took no offense to it at all.

You didn’t know what to say, so you continued staring at him. He being the anti-social person that he was, just stared back. There was a big gap of silence before he felt that it was becoming too awkward.

“...What’re you looking for?” he blurted out.

“...A book...”

“Are you stupid? Of course you’re looking for a book. I meant what’s the title?” There his usual sneer was back again and he unfolded his arms to look at you unimpressively.

“...A History of Inazuma: Volume 2...” you meekly replied, slowly realizing that he actually heard you praising him.

“You’re in the wrong section,” the exasperated sigh he gives out causes you to wince, and you turn away back to the bookshelf as if to shield you from all this embarrassment.

“If it’s about Inazuma, you should just be asking me,” you blink as your peripheral catches sight of an outstretched hand. You tilt your head to see that he’s offering his hand, but his face is blank.

“...Well? Come on. I don’t have all day,”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling, something about the way he said it sounds threatening, but also slightly playful. But that’s just the way he was.

You accept his hand, and he pulls you up easily.

Xiao

“Oh so that’s why you’re coming over more frequently...” (Your friend) grins, and you wave your hands around to tell them to quiet down. Adepti had good hearing after all.

“Well, I’m also coming over cause Verr Goldet needs more help these days in the kitchen. You guys are getting so much customers these days that Yanxiao has a hard time by himself,”

“Uhhuuhhhhhh, sure...was it also Verr Goldet who told you to try and master the Almond Tofu recipe from Yanxiao? Cause you’re awfully hell bent on trying to learn that recipe, according to Yanxiao,”

You fall silent, feeling heat crawling up your neck. “I--” You start, searching for an excuse, but realized there was no escaping this one. “I just want to do something nice for Xiao, that’s all,” you innocently quip. “I...I know I can’t help him much, but maybe just cooking his favourite dish will help, even a little,”

(Your friend) smiles a little, knowing that the adepti probably heard everything. “That’s nice of you, Y/N. You must care about him a lot,”

What he does:

once upon a time he would do absolutely nothing. because getting involved with humans is something he shouldn’t do.

But now he bides his time, and observes if it’s safe to open up.

He wouldn’t outright thank you at first, but he’ll slowly show up in front of you a little more everyday.

He’s rather awkward, so at first he only nods his head as thanks when you leave the bowl of almond tofu on the ledge.

Eventually when he realizes you’re not going to stop cooking for him he goes the extra mile to do something simple for you too.

He places a stalk of your favourite flower on the ledge, right before you come to put down his bowl of almond tofu.

I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Check it out here:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BVD1VVFP

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#alhaitham x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #diluc x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #scaramouche x reader #cyno x reader #ayato x reader #genshin impact fanfiction

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