#bc his demeanor + smile felt really forced

[dontmindme2600]

Ok I’m at the end of the final case of aai1 and I was SO convinced the “true villain” guy was going to end up being that one ambassador that kept trying to give you coupons, but it’s looking like it’s the other one

[illyrianbitch]

Lights, Camera, Love!

Pairing: Reader x Rhysand

Summary: Rhysand, Hollywood's hottest heartthrob, has everyone smitten—everyone except you, his co-star. But when rumors of your feud begin to affect the show's ratings, your producers propose a last-ditch solution: a fake romance to salvage your public image and reignite fan interest.

Warnings: cocky Rhysand, just two snippy co-stars, ianthe, co-parent feysand, helion and amren as big hollywood peeps

Word Count: 4.7k

a/n: this is a lil series ive had tucked away with some inspo....lets see if ayll fw it enough hehehe. dedicated to @milswrites and @daycourtofficial bc their love for this pushed me to pick it up again

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It was unprofessional, truly. 

You wanted to roll your eyes, to scoff and walk off set. 

But instead, you simply shifted uncomfortably in your seat, adjusting the hem of your dress as Ianthe, your overly enthusiastic interviewer, fluttered around Rhysand like a lovesick butterfly. Her giggles grated on your nerves as she leaned in a little too close, her hand lingering on his arm just a second too long.

Ianthe was known for her probing questions and flirtatious demeanor— it’s what made her such a popular source for exclusive interviews. Not only did she know the right questions to ask, but she knew exactly how to ask them in order to get what she wanted: juicy gossip, something she could feed on. It wasn’t a coincidence that her last name held such a resemblance to the word parasite. She was one. 

You didn’t want to do the interview to begin with. The upcoming release of your newest season meant various events and panels that left you unsettled and anxious. You loved your job— loved your character even more. But being in the public eye alongside Rhysand was hard. Suffocating, really. 

It felt like hours that you sat there with a practiced smile, waiting as she conversed with Rhysand. The studio lights were warm, and the backdrop behind you— a cover of the show's logo— made you feel a bit more comfortable. But still, the unease persisted, and you counted down the seconds until this interview was over and you could return home. 

"So, Rhysand," Ianthe said, her voice silky smooth. "You've become quite the heartthrob lately. How do you handle all the attention from your adoring fans?"

Your first instinct was to laugh. Your second was to roll your eyes. The third was to vomit in your mouth. You somehow resisted the urge to do all of the above, settling for biting back the rising nausea at the shameless flirting. 

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, a charming smile spreading across his face. "It's all part of the job, I suppose. Though, I must say, the fans are incredibly supportive. It's their enthusiasm that keeps us going."

Us. This time it physically burned you to not roll your eyes, even subtly. Your lips curled into a pained smile. Ianthe didn’t seem to notice the forced gesture, her gaze locked onto Rhysand as if you weren’t even in the room. 

You looked down, absently playing with a ring on your index finger. The metal felt cool and familiar, and you smiled faintly at it, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. It seemed to fill your lungs with a steadying breath, one that was enough to gather yourself, to steel your resolve and endure sitting beside someone who sucked up all the oxygen in the room without even trying.

It took a few more minutes before Ianthe was turning to you with an expectant smile— perfect white teeth. Veneers, most likely. The smile was strange up close and you resisted the urge to lean in and expect them further, to search for any signs of hidden pointed teeth, sharpened to resemble that of a predator. 

You blinked, tilting your head and welcoming her attention with a large smile of your own. Certainly not as perfect, but a lot less unnerving, you hoped. 

 “Y/n,” She started, readjusting herself in her seat. “You look beautiful. It’s always nice to see you.”

You gave a small nod in acknowledgement. You’d talked to Ianthe a few times, mostly on red carpets and press events. Never longer than a minute, never past fake pleasantries and a kiss on the cheek—- from her end. 

“Thanks Ianthe,” you said, smile still plastered on your cheeks like glue. “It’s always a pleasure talking with you.”

There was a glint in her eye that told you she didn’t believe a word you said. At least you both had that in common, perhaps you could bond on your shared love of bullshit. 

 “Tell me, what's it like working alongside Rhysand? He seems to have quite the presence on set."

You paused for a moment, considering your response carefully before delivering it with a smile. 

“Rhysand is an experience. Even after years, he still manages to keep me on my toes.”

What your statement really translated to was: Rhysand was a cocky asshole. Everything was about him. All. The. Damn. Time.

"It's truly remarkable how he commands the attention of everyone in the room. It's as if the rest of us simply fade into the background when he's around.” 

Because he’s an attention whore. 

You didn’t say the last thought— as much as your body screamed at you to. 

Rhysand's smile tightened imperceptibly, a flicker of irritation dancing in his eyes before he masked it with practiced ease. "Well, thank you," he replied smoothly,  "I suppose it's just the natural magnetism of a true star."

He delivered his words as a joke, as if you both shared a similar, endearing humor regarding one another. You fought to conceal a satisfied smirk, knowing that your veiled dig had hit its mark. 

Ianthe continued to prattle on, her questions growing increasingly mundane as the minutes ticked by. There was a lull—a brief moment of respite where Ianthe paused to collect her thoughts. 

It was Rhysand who broke the silence, his voice dripping with faux sincerity. "I must admit, I've always admired Y/n’s dedication to her craft," he said, his tone almost earnest. "It's not easy to disappear into a role the way she does."

You bristled at the backhanded compliment, knowing all too well that beneath his seemingly benign words lay a razor-sharp edge. It was a surprise to you that Ianthe didn’t pick up on it, her dull eyes and bright smile still worn on her nauseatingly beautiful face. 

"Well, Rhysand," you replied, forcing a tight smile, "I suppose we all have our strengths. I can’t coast on charisma alone.”

His smirk returned in full force, a wolfish gleam in his eyes. "Ah, but isn't that what makes us such a dynamic duo, sweetheart?" he said, "The perfect balance of substance and style."

You fought to conceal a frustrated sigh, to bite back the snarl you wanted to make at the annoying nickname he’d adopted for you recently. He knew it drove you nuts, knew it made you want to call him something less sweet. 

As much as you wished to continue the conversation, to match his veiled insults with ones of your own— that were sure to be far more clever, you knew that this verbal sparring match would only serve to prolong your agony. Instead, you plastered on a diplomatic smile, nodding in agreement as Ianthe launched into yet another round of inane questions.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It felt like an eternity before you were freed from the clutches of the interview. 

Ianthe stood, flashing you a smile that felt more condescending than friendly. "Thank you both for coming," she said, her eyes lingering on Rhysand. You watched as she scanned him one last time, eyes drinking him in like a fresh glass of wine. 

You forced a polite nod. "Thank you, Ianthe. Always a pleasure."

She gave you a look that made you feel small, but you quickly swallowed it and turned away, heading toward the exit. As much as a nice, warm bath was calling to you, you had lunch plans with Lucien and were itching to be in the presence of someone you actually liked. 

"Well, that was entertaining," Rhysand commented, a smirk playing on his lips as he caught up to you. 

You glanced at him, trying to keep your irritation in check as you quickened your pace, offering a few spare smiles to the employees you passed. "If by entertaining, you mean tacky, then sure."

His smirk faded slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. He raised a brow.  "Tacky? I was just keeping things lively."

"Lively," you repeated with a laugh. You stopped, the movement so abrupt that Rhysand almost bumped into you. You turned to face him with a flat look. “You’re a shameless flirt."

His eyes narrowed at you— a deep blue that you swore at times was almost violet. His head cocked to the side and you shrank deeper into yourself, feeling somewhat at odds and uncomfortable in his burning gaze. The smirk tugged harder at the corner of his lips.

“Well, isn’t that the whole point?”

You scowled, opening your mouth to respond. But before any words could leave your mouth, a familiar voice filled the air. “Rhys!”

A head turn led you to catch Feyre’s eye as she walked towards you, a bright smile on her face. Her eyes lit up as her gaze landed on you and Rhys, one hand holding onto the smaller one of her son. 

You watched as Nyx, quite possibly one of the prettiest kids you'd ever seen, ran up to Rhysand with a joyous laugh, opening his arms up, wide and expecting. In one swift and natural movement, Rhysand scooped him up effortlessly, his earlier annoyance instantly dissipating from his features. 

“Hey, buddy,” Rhysand said, his voice softening as he kissed Nyx’s temple.

Against your better judgment, a smile tugged at your cheeks at how brightly Rhysand’s face lit up. He pulled Feyre into a quick, sweet embrace, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek.

If there was one thing you were willing to give Rhysand credit for, it was this.

His breakup with Feyre had been incredibly public. The divorce, the fallout—both of their reputations took a hit when it came out that she had initiated the divorce, later compounded by her being outed on a date with a woman from her past. Yet, despite everything, they both managed it with such grace.

Feyre was incredibly sweet. You never truly understood how Rhysand landed her in the first place, how they had been married for over five years, so deeply in love that they started a family. You thoroughly enjoyed her company, even though it wasn’t as often as you would’ve liked. She was still Rhysand’s family, after all, and you took every chance you could to avoid being around him when it wasn’t necessary. 

But Feyre was a large reason you enjoyed your job. She eased the anxiety that came with joining a cast that was already so close, essentially taking a role that had belonged to her— even though your character was introduced after hers was written off. 

It was clear that despite everything, Rhysand and Feyre had managed to maintain a bond, not just for their sake, but for Nyx’s. The love they still shared, the ease with which they navigated this new chapter of their lives—it was something you respected, even envied a little.

You averted your gaze, fingers running over the cool metal of your ring as you turned to leave, but Feyre called your name, her voice as kind as usual. 

You paused, looking back at her. “Yeah?”

Feyre’s smile was warm. You took her in for a moment, how naturally beautiful she was— how she exuded a certain energy that you could only describe as regal. A smile fit for a queen.  “How was the interview?” 

You shrugged, giving a small smile. “The usual. Ianthe was...”

You pursed your lips as your voice trailed off. There were many ways you could finish off your sentence but you weren’t sure how diplomatic you could be anymore or if Feyre would be bothered by an honest review of your interviewer. 

Feyre leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “A bitch?”

You laughed, catching Rhysand’s glance as he looked over for a moment. His attention quickly returned to Nyx and you turned back to meet Feyre’s beautiful blue eyes. “Exactly.”

Feyre shook her head, a sympathetic look on her face. “She was always so condescending with me, too. It’s because she’s desperate to sleep with that loser.” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder, jokingly but lovingly casting a glance back at Rhysand. She clicked her tongue. “Poor delusions.”

Another laugh left your lips and you nodded, suppressing a grin. “Yeah,” you drawled, “She wasn’t very subtle.”

Feyre raised a brow. “I don’t think subtly is in that limited vocabulary of hers.”

Your eyes drifted to the small interview set, where Ianthe was still standing, talking to someone and sparing regular glances over at Rhysand—a predator about to make her move. It was best for you to leave now, you thought, to avoid watching the inevitable hunt. 

“I should get going,” you said, turning back to Feyre. “I have plans. But, it was so nice seeing you.”

Feyre beamed, putting a hand on your arm. You briefly took in the ink that covered her forearm, the delicate, beautiful tattoos that you always wanted to admire further.  “You too,” she said, “Let’s have lunch soon.”

You nodded, a genuine and pleased motion. Your conversation with Feyre was the first one today that you didn’t have to fake any polite mannerisms. “I’d love to.”

Casting one last glance at Rhysand, you watched as Feyre approached him and put a hand out to Nyx. Rhysand smiled down at her, a soft, familiar look that made your chest tighten with an emotion you didn’t care to examine.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It was 10:00 am when you were called into the production office, a room nestled in a quiet corner of the studio lot. You were tired, having only slept a few hours the night prior, and you could feel life slowly dripping back into you with each sip of coffee. The area was relatively private, shielded from the prying eyes of paparazzi, so you opted for comfort over glamor, dressed in jeans and a simple hoodie—nice, big, and comfortable.

Helion was usually meticulous about these meetings, ensuring both you and Rhysand were well-prepared and informed ahead of time. This sudden summons felt off. You didn’t know what to expect, and that uncertainty weighed heavily on your mind as you pushed open the door to the conference room.

Rhysand was already in the room when you arrived, effortlessly lounging in a chair with the kind of put-together look that only seemed to accentuate your own disheveled state. It made you hate him even more. You didn’t attempt to hide your scowl. He glanced up as you entered, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Phew, you'd think it was a Sunday and you were hungover," he remarked casually, a small smile playing on his lips. 

You shot him a pointed glare, resisting the urge to snap back and opting to take the open seat next to him, sitting back to take a sip of your coffee. 

Rhysand leaned over into your space, reaching a hand to tug at the strings of your hoodie with a grin on his lips. You swatted his hand away with a deepening scowl. "Cut it out."

He chuckled lightly, settling back into his chair. "So, what do you think this is about?" 

“No idea,” you sighed, crossing your arms defensively. You gave him a pointed glare. “What did you do?”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow. “And why are we automatically assuming I did something?”

“Well when are you not?” You titled your head. “Doing something, I mean.”

Rhysand caught onto the meaning of your words instantly. He narrowed his eyes at you before something crossed his features. Then, he was leaning in again, a smirk on his face as he scanned your own. “Are you feeling a bit left out? You’re always welcome to join.”

You rolled your eyes, letting out a scoff of disgust as you maneuvered yourself to lean farther away from him. “You’re shameless.”

The door clicked open, and your attention snapped over as Helion entered the room. You began to offer him a smile, but the motion died on your lips as you met his gaze. 

You loved Helion— as an executive producer, and the main man regarding your public relations, you’d formed a great relationship with him. It helped that you were best friends with his son, too. But today his typically buoyant air was clouded, his expression wearing the weight of serious deliberation. It was one you could only compare to that of a disappointed father about to deliver bad news. Beside him, Amren followed like a silent storm cloud. 

Amren, on the other hand, was someone you didn’t have a favorable relationship with. She was Rhysand’s personal agent and she excluded the same energy he did— something that tasted a lot like pretentiousness.  Her sharp gaze swept the room, and you instinctively avoided meeting it.

If Amren was here, and Helion was wearing that stern expression, it could only mean trouble. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, a knot of apprehension tightening in your stomach.

You and Rhysand shared a quick, knowing glance, a similar confusion mirrored on both your faces. You straightened yourself as Rhysand offered a disarmingly charming smile. 

"What's going on?" he asked.

Helion exchanged a glance with Amren before sighing heavily. He leaned forward, slapping a piece of paper onto the table and pushing it toward both of you. 

The first thing that caught your eye was the TMZ logo— something that made your stomach drop instinctively. You bit at the inside of your cheek, your eyes repeatedly running over the headline. You looked up through your lashes to meet Helion’s expecting gaze. 

Rhysand's voice was incredulous as he spoke. "Did you... print these out?" 

You casted a quick glance of disbelief at him. Idiot. He paid no mind. 

Helion ignored the comment, taking a seat across from you as he leaned back, crossing his arms. He gave a nod towards the two copies before you. “Go ahead. Read," he instructed calmly, his expression grave. The tone alone made you shiver from its unfamiliarity. 

You picked up your copy, scanning the bolded headline and the accompanying pictures. 

FAILURE ON SET: HOW AN OVERBEARING CO-STAR FUED IS THREATENING THE VIEWER EXPERIENCE

Ianthe Parcite weighs in on the rumored feud between co-stars Y/N and Rhysand after exclusive interview.

As expected, the large printed image was a glamor shot of Rhysand and one of the interview set. You were nowhere to be found. Your grip on the edges of the paper tightened as you began to read the article.

In an exclusive interview with TMZ, Ianthe Parcite, known for her candid critiques, has taken a stark stance on the alleged feud between Hollywood’s famed co-stars, Y/N L/N and Rhysand Darling. Contrary to initial impressions, Ianthe now reveals that behind the scenes, tensions ran high and professionalism faltered. “I sensed an atmosphere of unease and discontent,” Ianthe remarked, reflecting on her recent encounter with the co-stars. “Y/N appeared dismissive and disengaged during our interview, which is concerning for the show’s dynamics.” Ianthe didn’t hold back in her assessment of Rhysand either, noting his apparent lack of receptiveness to her questions. “Rhysand’s demeanor was noticeably distant, almost unreceptive to any meaningful dialogue,” she disclosed. “It’s unfortunate when personal dynamics overshadow the professionalism required on set.” The revelations have sent shockwaves through the fanbase, with many expressing disappointment over the potential impact on their favorite series. As speculation swirls around the future of the show, fans are left wondering if the rift between Y/N and Rhysand will escalate and if it's worth watching a show doomed for failure. 

You scoffed incredulously, pushing the paper further away from you as if its distance would minimize the anger that simmered underneath your skin. You deeply regretted holding back in the interview— regretted not tearing that pompous bitch into two.

"So she doesn't even include a picture of me and yet I'm the main one she rips into?" 

You found the courage to look around the room, your gaze landing on Helion with pleading eyes. His response was a noncommittal shrug, accompanied by a slight raise of his eyebrows. It was clear he didn't have an easy answer, either.

Running your tongue along your teeth, you shifted your gaze to Rhysand. His jaw clenched as he laid the paper on the table. "It's not even a great photo of me," he remarked dryly, "I'm too pale in it."

Your mouth fell open in exasperation. "Unbelievable," you muttered under your breath.

Rhysand shot you a glare that lingered for a few tense seconds. You matched his gaze evenly before he redirected his attention to Helion and Amren. "This is ridiculous," he asserted, "Did they seriously publish this?

A moment passed. Helion sighed heavily, rubbing his temples in frustration. "Yes. Every tabloid is eating it up.”

You clenched your jaw, feeling every muscle in your body tense with the frustration prickling at your skin. “It wasn't our best interview, sure, but it definitely wasn't that bad," you insisted, tapping a finger down on the offending article.

Amren's gaze flickered toward Rhysand, and you followed it. Rhysand shifted uncomfortably, his expression briefly sheepish before he turned to you with a defensive edge. You narrowed your eyes, tuning to face him properly.

“Did you do something?”

Rhysand rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous.” 

Your mouth fell agape and you let out a deep, angry breath through your nose. “Don’t use that word about me,” you hissed at him.  You pointed emphatically at the paper. "That is ridiculous. And you look like a guilty dog. What did you do?"

"Nothing," he finally muttered, his eyes narrowing in irritation. He shifted in his seat, pulling at the cuffs of his sleeves. 

It was Amren's voice that cut through the tension, her tone cool and calculating. "It's what he didn't do, really," she remarked cryptically, her gaze still lingering on Rhysand.

He shot her a pointed glare and you frowned, your brows furrowing to a tight knit. A faint headache throbbed at your temples. Turning to Helion for clarification, you found him leaning forward, lips pursed in thought. 

"It appears Ianthe was a bit... offended that Rhysand turned down her advances," Helion explained carefully, his words laden with implication.

Your eyes widened in surprise, disbelief coloring your features. "Seriously?" you blurted out, your head twisting to face Rhysand once more, moving with such swiftness that an ache pulled at the muscles of your neck. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Rhysand's eyes widened in response, his expression a mix of offense and confusion. "Excuse me?" he retorted, a hint of incredulity in his voice. "So you have a problem with me when I sleep with people and when I don't?"

Annoyance flared within you. "You flirted with her the entire interview," you accused, your voice raising slightly in pitch. "The one time you decide to take a vow of celibacy and it's with the one name that can tarnish my reputation?”

Rhysand scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Your reputation, of course," he muttered sarcastically. "You're such a hypocrite."

"Your actions reflect on me too, Rhysand," you shot back, "Do you ever think about that?"

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms with a pinched expression. "Oh, please," he countered, "If you hadn't been sulking and throwing daggers at me the entire interview, I wouldn't have had to flirt with her to salvage it. You should be thanking me."

Your jaw tightened at his words. "Thanking you? Look what happened—"

Before you could finish your retort, Helion slammed his palm down on the table with a sharp crack. You and Rhysand both jumped at the sudden interruption, turning to face him with wide eyes.

"Enough," Helion declared firmly, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Stop bickering like children."

You and Rhysand exchanged a reluctant glance and with a sigh, you sank back into your seat, folding your arms defensively. 

"It'll blow over in a week, right? No big deal," Rhysand said casually, his tone attempting to downplay the severity of the situation. You raised your eyebrows at the suggestion, but as hopeful as it sounded, part of you knew that this was a bigger deal than you both cared to admit.

Helion regarded him with a critical eye, his lips pressed into a thin line. Feeling an itch at your skin, you unfolded your arms. 

"He’s right," you said hopefully, running a hand through your hair. "I mean, rumors of us not being... the best of friends isn't something new. People know this."

Rhysand offered a nod of agreement. “Exactly. It's just tabloid fodder," he said, his gaze shifting between Amren and Helion with a hint of concern.

Leaning slightly on the table, Amren shook her head slightly, her eyes– a color so light they were almost silver— glowed with intensity as they swept over Rhysand and then fixed on you. The heat of her gaze made you swallow and you found yourself tempted to apologize for things you’d never done— confess for crimes you hadn’t committed. But against your instincts, you held her gaze for another lasting moment. Amren seemed to appreciate the stare and she raised an eyebrow of approval before she spoke. 

“It's more than that now," she stated firmly, her voice cutting through the air like a finely sharpened knife. "This isn't just idle gossip anymore. It's becoming off-putting. A few small rumors are funny at first, but now people don't want to watch. It's affecting our ratings."

"We can't afford to lose viewers over this," Helion added, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency you’d never heard. He was stressed— extremely so. He picked at the gold rings that adorned his hands. "The show needs a strong, united front, not two leads sniping at each other in public."

You exchanged a glance with Rhysand. Your mind raced and you settled your gaze on Helion. 

You trusted him. He always had your best interests in mind, and navigating public fallout wasn’t unfamiliar territory for you. This was fine, this was manageable. 

“Okay,” you said, the words directly intended for him.  “What do you want me to do?”

He threw a glance at Amren. 

“Well,” he started, “We need to manage the narrative. The tension between you two is too obvious. Starting with the press tour, we'll need you both to project a good connection. No more sniping or tension in public—it needs to be all smiles and cooperation."

You nodded slowly, digesting his words. Next to you, Rhysand sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. "Are you saying we need to fake being friends?"

The two agents before you shared another glance. You frowned at the exchange, an unsettled feeling brewing in your gut. Helion’s face slowly shifted into one more amused— and you watched as a grin grew on his lips, something suspicious, mischievous even. His eyes gleamed.

“Not just friends," he said, his gaze shifting between you and Rhysand. He looked to Amren one last time, who gave a small nod of approval before he continued, 

"We need you to fake a romance."

You choked on the air in your throat, your heart skipping a beat at his words. You blinked rapidly, gaze darting between Helion and Amren, seeking any sign that this was a joke or a misinterpretation. 

They were messing with you both, surely. This was some joke to make you both apologize, some horrendously unrealistic suggestion that made the idea of you two being simply friends something straight out of paradise.

But their faces were deadly serious— set with a purposeful intent etched into their features. Helion’s grin ate at you. 

Rhysand's laughter broke the tense silence, though it lacked humor as he shook his head in disbelief. His wide eyes met yours, a silent exchange of incredulity passing between you before both of you turned to Helion simultaneously. When no other words were offered to you both, the reality of the suggestion seeped in. 

As if you both registered it at the same time, both you and Rhysand rose swiftly. 

"Absolutely fucking not—" 

"—There is no way in hell I'm—"

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

GUYS IM OBSESSED IM SORRY I CANT. reader is such a hater and i think its so funny, whatever rhys does its just *eye roll* booo he sucks

i loveee them ur honor

if youd like to be added to the LCL! taglist, lmk!! <3

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124

Rhysand tag list 🫶🏻:

@serrendiipty

[leahrintarou]

✩₊˚.⋆ SLEEP AID ! - choso / 10.13 / kinktober

CW: fingering, female receiving, oral sex, they're housemates, fem bodied reader, she/her used, choso might be ooc bc i've never written for him lolll Word Count: 1.9k Author's Note: sorry for the late chapter but hi guysss lol i hope you enjoy the eighth post of my kinktober series! ily all sm MWAH <3 likes and reblogs are appreciated

as choso walked up the familiar steps to his apartment, a hint of excitement simmered under his calm exterior. his week-long trip with yuji had been fun, but he’d missed the quiet comfort of home—and his housemate, y/n. returning a day early was a small indulgence, an excuse to surprise her and share a rare moment of normalcy between them.

when he unlocked the door, the silence in the apartment suggested she was out. he left his bag by the entrance, his footsteps quiet as he wandered down the hall. passing by her slightly ajar bedroom door, he was about to keep going when a soft, muffled sound caught his attention.

curious, he paused, listening. through the narrow gap in the door, he could make out y/n lying on her bed, eyes closed, hands drifting over her body with a slow intensity that left little to the imagination. her breathing was heavy, and the way she whispered his name—soft, needy—sent a jolt through him.

choso’s mind whirled as his pulse quickened, and he found himself rooted to the spot, caught between the urge to back away and the magnetic pull of the scene unfolding before him. he swallowed hard, the intimacy of her whispered sighs mingling with an unexpected rush of his own feelings. he hadn’t realized she felt this way, and the realization brought a mix of excitement and confusion surging through him.

torn between retreating to give her privacy and making his presence known, he eventually took a shaky breath, deciding to step back. he made his way to the couch, sinking into it with his mind buzzing, trying to shake the image and sounds from his head. but her soft murmurs lingered, and he felt himself more keenly aware of his own need for her—a need he’d long hidden behind his usual laid-back demeanor.

a few minutes later, he heard her door creak open. y/n stepped out, visibly surprised when her eyes landed on him. “choso?” she breathed, her cheeks feeling hot as she registered his presence.

he glanced up, giving her a reassuring smile, keeping his tone casual. “hey. came back early,” he said, watching her face as she struggled to gauge if he’d heard anything. trying to brush off her surprise, y/n gave a quick laugh and sauntered over, plopping down on the couch beside him. “back already? and here i thought i’d have the place all to myself,” she teased, keeping her tone light.

choso raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his lips. “oh, did you have something fun planned?”

she shrugged, crossing her legs and leaning back with a playful grin. “maybe i was just doing a little… relaxation, you know? girl stuff.” she glanced at him with a mischievous look, clearly hoping her casual response would throw him off.

he chuckled, leaning in closer. “relaxation, huh?” he echoed, letting the word linger between them. “sounded like you were really enjoying yourself in there.”

she stiffened for a second but quickly forced a laugh, rolling her eyes. “you must be hearing things. i was probably just… watching a video or something.” she tried to keep her tone breezy, her breath a bit shaky.

“mm, sure,” choso replied, his voice low and anything but convincing. “i mean, if you say so. just seemed like something had your attention. especially with the way you kept saying my name.”

her eyes widened, and she quickly stifled a laugh, nudging his shoulder. “oh, please! don’t flatter yourself,” she shot back, her voice playful but betraying a hint of nervousness. “you think you’re the only one i think about?”

he shrugged, leaning back and draping an arm casually over the back of the couch, letting his eyes roam over her with a knowing glint. “well, i wouldn’t want to assume, but… let’s just say i’m flattered if i happened to be on your mind.” he chuckled, his gaze lingering a moment longer, making her blush deepen.

she pursed her lips, then rolled her eyes with mock confidence. “maybe i’ll just have to keep you guessing,” she said, giving him a coy smile. “wouldn’t want you getting a big head now, would we?”

choso laughed, shaking his head. “guess i’ll just have to keep an ear out next time. wouldn’t want to miss out if you’re… ‘relaxing’ again.” he playfully rolled his eyes, enjoying the way her flustered expression peeked through her playful demeanor.

y/n rolled her eyes, but the embarrassment she was feeling was obvious. “whatever, choso. don’t get too comfortable; maybe next time i won’t be so… vocal.”

he grinned, relaxing back into the couch, his gaze steady and warm. “maybe,” he murmured, “but i’m glad to be back anyway.” as they shared a knowing look, the unspoken tension simmered beneath their teasing, both of them acutely aware that the boundaries of their relationship had shifted—just a little closer.

---

a few nights later, choso lay in bed, trying to will himself back to sleep. he had never been one to wake up easily, but tonight something had stirred him—a soft sound from down the hall, faint but unmistakable. as he listened, his heart picked up, recognizing the muffled sighs and whispered moans drifting through the stillness of the apartment.

he pushed the covers back and padded quietly down the hallway, stopping just outside her door. it was cracked open slightly, just enough for him to see her stretched out on her bed, hands moving over her body, eyes shut tight as she murmured his name. he swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken, and before he could talk himself out of it, he rapped lightly on the doorframe.

y/n’s eyes flew open, and she froze, caught in the act. choso leaned against the door, his gaze steady, a small, knowing smile playing at his lips.

“you’ve been at it for a while now, n/n,” he said, his voice low and calm. “need help?”

her face flushed, but she didn’t look away, her breath still coming in shallow gasps. “choso…” she whispered, a hint of vulnerability in her voice, like she was caught between embarrassment and anticipation.

he took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “you don’t have to hide it,” he murmured, his tone gentle, reassuring. “if you want me, i’m here.”

for a moment, there was silence, both of them suspended in the charged space between them. finally, she gave a small, almost shy nod, and choso crossed the room, sinking onto the bed beside her, his touch warm and steady as he reached for her.

he pulled the sheet from her lap, revealing her bare sex. "can i taste you?" he questioned, making y/n push her legs together tighter. "I've never tried that with anyone before..." she said, voice hesitant.

"i'll help you relax." he smiled, knowing that it was all he had to do to convince y/n with anything. "its embarrassing though." a frown was on her lips, but she didn't stop choso's hand that met with her knee, pulling her leg apart from the other. "what are you embarrassed for?"

she was going to reply, but her words were caught in her throat when his gaze trailed down to her sex. "go slow." she muttered. he hummed, pushing the hem of her shirt up just a bit. he leaned down, wrapping an arm around her thigh. he did the same with his opposite arm, spreading her legs to reveal the entirety of her sex.

his tongue laid a stripe against her bud and her body jerked at the unfamiliar sensation, he looked up at her from below, his tongue moving slowly in different patterns as he tried to figure out which one brought her the better reaction. her lips were parted, heavy breaths escaping in a fast pace.

his tongue circled around her bud before his lips latched around them. with a simple suck, y/n's legs threatened to close around his head, but he held her legs in place. he pulled away, the warmth of his breath fanning the sensetive area. he used one of his hands to part her folds before he laid his tongue flat against her once again. the warmth elicited a moan from y/n and choso flickers his tongue against her bud, the repeated sensations making his grip the fabric of her comforter.

he let out a moan against her, the rumbling vibration of the low octave only adding to the pleasure. her lips lifted as she pressed herself closer to him. her free hand roamed all around her and choso noticed this. his locked eyes with her, taking her wrist in his hold before placing her hand on top of his head. "use me." was all he said before returning to her bud, the sucking sensation returning.

her arousal was slowly pooling beneath her and choso only devoured the taste of her, spreading it against her sex. she couldn’t help but want more, making her run her fingers through his hair, pushhing him down closer to her. in her many fantasies of him,she never took choso to be the kind of person to have this kind of skill.

y/n hadn’t done something like this before, but she was sure that choso was doing something, if not, everything correctly. the sounds coming from below her were a mix of his soft moans and her arousal mixed with the wetness of his tongue. her own hands were nothing compared to this and she'd wished that this was something they'd done long ago. it could've saved her weeks of sleepless nights. the mornings when choso would notice the bags under her eyes paired with dark circles.

"couldn’t sleep last night?" he'd question.

she would only shake her head as a response, feeling too much guilt to make up a lie straight infront of him. she would watch the look of pity in his eyes as she would pour an extra cup of coffee to try and keep herself awake for the day.

she was sure that tomorrow morning, that would be the case once again, but with the way that choso’s tongue moved and the way her hips moved against her will, she would be out like a light in no time. y/n muttered words of praise to him when his tongue flickered against his bud while his lips were still wrapped around her.

he let out a deeper moan against her sex and y/n let out a small whine. he gripped the flesh of her thighs, needy for her release just as much as she was. his fingers were inserted, the combination being just enough to bring her to just what she'd been chasing for the past hour or two.

she gritted her teeth, her head falling back as choso looked up at her, taking in the sight. he groaned, the image before his eyes driving his movements to quicken. the longing feeling of pleasure washed over her and her legs trembled in choso's arms. "f-fuck.." she moaned in a barely audible whisper.

her released her abused bud, his tongue swiping the corner of his lips, the taste of y/n's arousal slowly becoming his new addiction.

he wiped his lips, glancing up at her with a soft, almost shy smile. “you taste so good, pretty,” he murmured, eyes full of warmth. “could do this all night, if you let me.”

y/n's eyes were low, but she noticed the tent beneath his pants.

"will you? please?" he asked, leaning back down before she could even finish her dazed nod.

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[joesanrio]

Such a Loser | R.R

Summary: After the MITB match, Joe’s entire demeanor seemed off which wasn’t expected after the weeks worth of planning and working for the match itself.

Pairings: Joe Anoa’i {Roman Reigns} x Nova (OC) || established relationship

Warnings: Stubbornness, Pet names, Random attitude, One-sided arguements, Strong language, kissing, fingering, slapping, grabbing face, praise and degrading, p in v, cockwarming, Cuddling, Love bombs

Rating: 18+

A/N: I was panicking the whole time watching it, bcs I was rooting for the Usos but I felt like they might trick me and have Solo and Roman win anyway…

———————————————————

The car ride silent as Joe sits beside me dozing off, not surprising since today was probably the longest and most anticipated day of his life. His performance was amazing especially the aftermath of the match, even leaving me wondering what’s going to happen next. There was something wrong though, after the match his entire demeanor just shifted into this dull and forceful manner.

“I’m so proud.” I whisper as I play with his wedding band before looking out the window myself, “I’m glad.” He mumbles back with a small smile. The driver enters the hotel parking lot causing me to grab my purse and get ready to exit, with the driver finally parking the car we get out and I help with one of Joe’s bag. “Don’t do that, I got it.” He shakes his head before taking the bag away and throwing it over his shoulder.

Entering the hotel, we head straight towards the elevator as the silence overtakes our surroundings due to it being late at night. “What’s wrong?” I question after his exaggerated sigh, causing him to roll his eyes. “Nothing.” He snaps randomly, at least before he was nicer, my lips form a line as I nod slowly while looking away.

The elevator after taking it’s sweet time, arrives on our floor allowing me to leave that awkward silence. Grabbing the key from my purse as we head down the never-ending hallway, I look back to see Joe clearly struggling with his suitcase wheels. “I’ll help.” I hold back a laugh at his irritated expression, grabbing the suitcase it immediately rolls with ease and so does his eyes. “You know I got you baby.” I try to joke, though at this moment I’m the only one who finds it even a bit funny.

Making it to the room, I scan the card as it lets us in to our suite. Joe immediately heads to the bedroom, “Baby…” I call after him as I enter the room myself and seeing his drained expression. “Not now.” He grunts while tossing his bag into the corner, going silent soon after as I don’t know how to respond. I decide that maybe running us a shower could help, so I go to the bathroom.

“Really Novs? What did you do today that made you so utterly exhausted and sweaty that you need to shower?” He spoke abruptly, I look at the door which he’s standing at shirtless. “It was for both of us, I thought I would be nice.” I smile ignoring his rudeness while turning towards him completely, his face immediately lightening from the distasteful look he was giving. He leaves without saying anything else, I’m assuming to get ready for the shower.

———

After the shower, I finally got Joe to open up to me about what was bothering him. What I wasn’t expecting was the fact that he was going to rant for 2 hours straight about it.

“I understand.” I say tiredly as Joe is on his rant about his lost at MITB, as amazing as the guys performed he was more bothered about the crowd. “Baby you’ve seen and heard worse things.” I sigh as he throws himself back down onto the couch, “Don’t break this couch.” I warn as he sat up properly and fixed the pillow on the other side of him.

“Imagine just trying to give the best performance of your life to people who can’t even focus on it because they’re too busy yelling ‘Fuck you’!” Joe stresses as he clenches his teeth together, I go to hug him but he moves away. “Well what would you like me to do?” I force a smile even though I’m sick of his attitude, “Nothing! I just need you to listen.” He exclaims. That sends me in a frenzy because that’s all I’ve been doing for 2 hours!

I roll my eyes at him before leaving the living room, and heading to the bedroom to get away from his shenanigans. “Baby Really? I ask one thing and you walk off.” He says loud enough for me to hear in the room, “I’m sorry.” I shrug knowing he can’t see me. Sliding off my slides, I get into the comfy sheets hoping he’ll get the gist. I can hear his heavy foot steps coming towards the door, “Come lay down, you’re getting red.” I open my arms for him to join me.

Hearing his deep sigh and his movement towards the bed, I smile in a small victory. I watch him as he fixes his shorts, remembering there’s nothing underneath I got a plan. “They probably did it because you’re so hot when you’re angry.” I smile seductively as I roll over onto my stomach while he gets into the bed. “Oh really?” He mumbles before looking at me, I hum as I cuddle up into him with my leg tossed over his hips.

His hands quickly grab onto my waist and ass, rubbing so gently across my skin. “I think you did phenomenal. You looked so tough, sexy, and serious.” I bite my lip unintentionally thinking back at the visuals he was giving during the match. I push myself onto his hips with my hands resting along his bare chest, “But you lost…” I tease as I roll along his slowly hardening cock.

He grunts as his hands reach up to my hips, I smirk at his reaction. “Are you actually mad at the crowd or are you just being a sore loser?” He glares up at me after my comment while his hands grip my hips roughly, a small whimper coming from my throat at the action. I tilt forward as our faces become close and I can feel his harsh breaths, I smile before squishing his cheeks with my hand and placing a kiss onto his pink lips.

Immediately he kissed back only with more passion, I let go of his face as his tongue entered the kiss. “So sweet.” He smiles against my lips, I giggle remembering the vanilla and coconut chapstick I put on. Pulling away from the kiss, I admire his face seeing the small scratch by his chin. “They got you pretty good.” I say pointing to the minuscule mark, he rolls his eyes playfully before pulling me back down onto his lips.

His hands finding their way onto my ass while my hips continues grinding against his, feeling him fully hard underneath me. “Fuck.” He grunts against my lips nicely before throwing his head back, I sit up and remove my top. I moan quietly as one of his hands leave my ass to squeeze my boob, “So pretty.” He smirks at my reaction.

Joe flipping us over to my dismay, sitting back on his heels as he pulls my bottoms off with a surprise of nothing under. “You were planning this huh?” He teases as he throws my bottoms somewhere in the room, I look away from his intense stare as he waits for an answer. “Answer me.” He grabs my face to make eye contact again, I nod but it doesn’t please him. “Words, come on you know better.” His words immediately creating arousal to drip from my entrance. “Yeah, more of hoping.” I wink as he smiles.

His long fingers make their way to my pussy as they slide between my slit, rubbing around my clit and back down to the entrance. “You’re soaked… you got a thing for losers?” He tilts his head teasingly, I nod eagerly as his other hand comes back to my boobs and plays delicately with the nipples. The once silent room was now noisy with the sounds of my moans, and his soft grunts.

His fingers entering my entrance smoothly and filling me up, “Oh my… god!” I squeal as he starts a ruthless pace. He smirks as the wet sounds from my pussy fills the room, going to grab his wrist, his other hand interferes. “What’s wrong? You were hoping for this.” His deep voice enters my ears as he bends down to kiss my neck, though nothing but moans can come from me in response.

“Wait- I’m going to cum.” I gasp as the feeling builds up in my stomach, his fingers going even faster though I didn’t think it was possible. “It’s too much!” My eyes squeeze shut as I cum onto his fingers, “Look at me.” He demands as he removes his fingers gently. Opening my eyes, the sight of him sucking the cum off his fingers made me immediately want to cover my face in embarrassment.

“You think you can cum again?” He questions knowing the answer to that, he pulls out his hard cock causing it to slap against his pelvis. The tip was dripping precum as it was swollen and red, he leans down before rubbing against my drenched lips. “Damn baby.” He groans as his hips falter at the feeling, I hum as I pull him into a quick kiss.

Already breathless, he positions himself at my entrance before entering slowly due to his large size. He throws his head back making his neck come to full display, sitting up a bit I suck a small hickey on the side of his adams apple. “Your pussy is so good.” He chuckles as he starts a slow place, enjoying the feeling of me stretching around his cock. Joe pushes one of my legs up from underneath the knee allowing him to a different angle.

Moans just flowing from my mouth uncontrollably, “I literally love you so much. So so much!” My head falling back onto the pillow as I can no longer take looking at where him and I are connected, he lets out a breathy chuckle as he begins pounding into me. Slapping noises being heard throughout the room as well as the sound of the headboard hitting the wall. “I love you.” He says happily, his other hand holding onto my hip.

“Look at your tits just bouncing, I’m fucking you so good huh?” He smirks while slapping my bouncing boobs creating a shock to flow through my body. “You’re amazing! It’s so good.” I whine out as he lets go of my thigh and brings my hand to hold it instead. Doing the same for my other thigh, he’s practically pounding me into the mattress considering every time he comes down my body jolts from impact. “You just love losers, look at you creaming all over one.” He grabs my face roughly to look at him.

Hair falling over his face, forehead glistening with sweat. “So pathetic, don’t you think?” He degrades me and I love it, a small pout forms on my lips causing him to come down a kiss them. Moaning against his lips, his hand lets go of my face and goes down to my clit to rub fast circles. Unintentionally clenching on his pounding cock, I can feel him twitch inside of me.

“Mm’gonna cum?” I tease after he pulls away from my lips hesitantly, he nods shameless as his hands fall right beside my head to hold himself up. Biceps on full display as I’m caged in by his body, “Cum in me. Please cum.” I beg as his eyes start fluttering closed and mouth falling open. “Shit… oh I’m gonna cum.” He moans while his head drops, I can feel the warm ropes of his cum coat my walls as he breathes hard above me. “Oh yes.” I moan as I cum at the overstimulating feeling of his orgasm.

He drops his body gently onto mine as he stays inside, “You’re going to be pregnant after this.” He mumbles. My hands leave my thighs as they hold him close to me, resting on his back and tracing little shapes. “That’s totally fine.” I smile as I kiss his shoulder happily.

[gold-rhine]

First time sub afab! Character x GN Dom! Reader

Characters: Kaeya, Ayato, Diluc, Gorou

A\N: Repost bc my previous blog got shadowbanned. I generally don’t do specific scenario requests, but you’re in luck, bc Ayato and Kaeya parts fully formed in my head the moment I read your ask, and then I got an interesting visual for Diluc, to congratulate him for coming out as a kinky goth. I added Gorou bc you asked, but don’t really like how it turned out tbh, but I hope you’ll enjoy somewhat.

Warnings: nsfw, fingering, slight degradation (name calling), nipple play, praise kink, overstimulation, oral (character receiving), cock stands for cock\strap (only relevant for Kaeya’s part, bc of shameless favoritism he gets twice the content)

Wordcount: 5,5k

Diluc

His lips are eager when you kiss him, but he's a little tense in your arms. He tries to hide nervousness, keeping up his usual confident demeanor, unbuttoning his cravat and vest with brisk efficiency, but his fingers are a little stiff and his cheeks are pink.

A bit of anxiety is normal for his first time, but you start getting concerned when you get to his shirt and he tenses even more, his movements becoming wooden. This is not a spontaneous decision for him, he clearly planned this evening for some time - he spent his birthday collecting fresh valberries in the mountains, made a special dinner for the two of you and after it pulled you into his bedroom, crimson eyes intense and excited. But even so, something might be wrong and you know he’s the type of stubbornly proud to keep quiet even if he becomes uncomfortable, so you gently cup his blushing cheek.

“Hey, is everything alright? You know we can wait, don’t force yourself.”

He huffs, half embarrassed, half exasperated, still not meeting your eyes.

“It’s not that.”

This morning he put on fancy underwear, red silk and lace, an expensive piece he bought sometime ago on a whim and never wore before. It seemed perfect for the occasion, and throughout the day he felt tingly butterflies in his stomach, like he was hiding something - for once, it had nothing to do with violence or intrigues of his enemies, but a secret to be shared between the two of you tonight, anticipation of your surprise when you see it on him.

But now suddenly he feels anxious about it. This piece is so unlike him, a flimsy half-transparent thing, it was meant for someone sweet and seductive, with tender skin and delicate build, some society beauty and not a warrior like him. What if it looks foolish on him, with his prominent angular hipbones, hard muscles and many scars? He should’ve stuck to his usual style, plain and black, instead of trying to feel special, and now the idea of you thinking he’s ridiculous leaves him almost irrationally paralyzed.

“Then what is it, baby?”

Candleflames all over the room flicker as he grits his teeth. He feels frustrated, mad at himself, but his temper urges him to act when he feels unsure. He unclasps his belt with jerky motions, almost angrily, you frown at this until you notice red silk underneath.

“Wait, what’s that? It’s beautiful!”

He finally looks up at you with relief barely hidden.

“Oh? You like it?”

“I love it. It looks so hot on you.”

He lights up, trying to look nonchalant, but can’t help a small flattered smile when you pull him into a kiss, melts against you, anxious tension finally gone. When you start rubbing his clit through the thin layer of silk, he shivers, clings to you, and because his eyes are still closed, at first doesn’t see that the candleflames are flickering again, now even brighter. When he finally notices it, he sharply draws his breath and all fires go out, plunging the room into the darkness.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” you whisper into his ear while caressing his tensed up body soothingly.

This is so embarrassing, he’s used to lighting up the candles with a quick thought, so now that his emotions are in turmoil which isn’t an anger of combat, his vision reflexively reaches for the familiar safe outlet.

“It’s not going to be okay when I burn down the house around our ears,” he grunts, violently bright blush glowing even in the darkness.

“You won’t. Let go, baby, just relax,” you kiss him, his lips, jaw, neck, keep stroking his clit until he starts squirming against you, unable to contain himself. You press him down on the bed, get rid of the rest of his clothes until he's wearing nothing but the red silk panties. You trail kisses down his body, sharp collarbones, heavy breathing chest, sensitive buds of his nipples that are hard even before you swirl your tongue around them, scarred ribs and tense abs, until you slowly pull his panties down and press your lips to his clit. He gasps silently, throws his arm over his eyes and clamps up his thighs nervously, and the candles lit up, volatile flames rising up.

“You’re so lovely, babe,” you whisper against his skin. “Open up, let me see you.”

He shivers like the candlefires all around you, anxious anticipation ready to turn to the deeper passion. He lets you tug his underwear off and spread his legs, exposing his wet flushed cunt.

“Good boy,” you murmur quietly and watch how his entrance clenches. You give it a slow, long lick and he gasps quitely, fire sparking up around the room. He’s been eating mountain berries all day, so he tastes fresh and sweet, a little tangy, his soft tender flesh pulsing under your lips in the same rhythm as the flickering flames.

When your finger circles his entrance, the light dies down again, you can see him nervously holding his breath. You suck on his swollen clit until his hole throbs and opens up despite the anxiety, then carefully slide your finger in and curl it to caress his sweet spot. He gasps, bucks his hips involuntarily, candles flaring up all around you. You ease another finger in, start fucking him, slowly incresing the tempo, and he tries to keep quiet, only lets out harsh chocked grunts, but the flames all over the room are beating feveresly like the wings of crimon butterflies, painting the room and his pale body in gold, orange lights and deep dark shadows.

When he’s close, he reaches for you, pulls you up with such a needy sweet whimper that you let him without resistance, throws his arms around your shoulders, holding you close. He’s thrusting his hips into your fingers, and the room is lit in the colors of the sunrise if it was not a slow ascent, but a beating heart, - pulsing splashes of amber and yellow, mauve pink and intense crimson, fires on many candlesticks and fireplace roaring up far bigger than they ever could. He comes pressed against you, fingers digging into your shoulders, and the candelabras and fireplaces all over the mansion light up, for just a moment the winery looks illuminated in the night like the dawn really exploded inside of it.

After, he falls down on the bed, breathing heavily, lips parted and crimson eyes glowing as he looks up at you, your fingers still buried deep inside him.

“Did you enjoy it, baby?”

“Yes,” he answers quietly, but firmly, blush on his cheeks, but no shame in his voice.

“Good,” you grin, spread his knees and watch his breath hitch. “Because your birthday present doesn’t end until you beg me to stop…”

Ayato

Ayato might not have personal experience, but he is not naive. He’s read about this. He knows all of the mechanics. He’s thought about this in detail and he has no shame about it. Why would he, when knows he’s exquisite, a pleasure for anyone to reap. False modesty seems ridiculous here.

He’s in between your legs, naked, his back pressed to your chest, a big mirror on the opposite wall, allowing you to see his pale, slender body fully.

Your hands glide over his skin, his shoulders, pluck his nipples, then down the chest and ribs and over tense stomach, until reaching down  to his thighs. You spread his legs and fix them with your own, so he’s completely open, his pink cunt exposed to your eyes in the mirror, already flushed and wet. Your fingertip circles his clit slowly, lightly, and his body tenses in your arms.

“It feels different when you touch me,” he says, drawing his breath. “Sharper, somehow. Better.”

“Compared to what?” you ask, grinning, watching his subtle squirms in the mirror as you continue rubbing his clit with more and more pressure.

“To when I touched myself, of course,” he says, completely shameless.

“Have you imagined me fucking you?”

“Obviously. Haven’t you imagined fucking me?” he meets your eyes in the mirror with his little arrogant smirk, even as your hand in between his open legs makes him shudder.

“Of course,” you admit, smiling against the side of his neck.

“How?”

You kiss his arched throat and tender juncture between his neck and shoulder. “I think it’ll be more fun to keep it a surprise.”

As you tease his clit, his delicate folds tremble and open slowly, exposing his entrance, dark pink and pulsing with desire. He holds your gaze in the mirror, even if he swallows harshly and blushes.

“Have you fucked yourself there?” you ask softly, your lips pressed to his ear, your finger circling his twitching, wanting hole without entering.

“Yes…” his voice falters, he watches your movements intently. His entrance trembles and leaks a clear string of liquid and he blushes harder, but doesn’t try to close his legs.

“How many fingers?” you ask, still teasing his aching cunt. Your free hand roams over his tense body, sliding over the tender skin, playing with hard, aroused peaks of nipples.

“Two,” he’s breathing heavily through the open mouth, and you can feel his heartbeat fastening. You tantalizingly slowly stroke his silken wet folds, delicate like petals of his heraldic camellias, allowing him time to fully take in the obscene image in the mirror.

“Have you tasted yourself?”

“No… not yet,” he lets out, head dizzy from the scandalous depravity of this view of himself, naked, spread wide open, hips squirming needily, trying to get your fingers on his throbbing clit or dripping hole, bedsheets under him already stained with a wet patch. Such contrast to his usual controlled elegance and detached sophistication, and anticipation that this is just the beginning turns him on even more.

You finally slide your finger inside. He’s so wet that it goes in easily, allowing you to bury it to the knuckle. You hook it, stroking his pulsing walls, as he clenches around you, gasping through the parted lips, his eyes fixed on your hand between his legs.

You pull your finger out, a wet string drawing out after it from his hole.

His eyes snap to yours in the mirror, intense, demanding, and you smile.

“Look how wet and desperate you are already. You thought you could compare touching yourself to what I’ll do to you?”

Holding his gaze, you bring your finger covered in his wetness to his parted lips. You put it on his warm, waiting tongue and he blushes harder, pink almost as dark as his cunt spreading over his cheeks and neck, and starts sucking.

“I’ll wreck you. I’ll drive you crazy, make you scream until you lose your voice.”

You kiss his neck and stroke his soft inner thighs, watching his hole pulse and drool eagerly, as his mouth is working on your finger. You slide a second finger through his lips and start gently fucking his mouth, and he moans, his hips bucking involuntarily against an empty air.

You grin, circling his hard nipple, fingers of your other hand sliding over his tongue.

“I bet I can make you cum just from this,” you whisper in his ear. “Just from fucking your pretty mouth and you seeing yourself wide open and wet like a little whore. Have you imagined yourself undone just from that?”

He shudders, his moan muffled by your fingers. In the mirror you both can see how his hole opens wide as it pulses, showing slick pink walls, beads of clear liquid dripping out. He makes a choked gasp when you thrust two of your fingers in and comes immediately, his legs shuddering and hands clutching at your thighs.

You don’t give him time to get a hold of himself, start pumping your fingers inside, stretching his throbbing cunt as it clenches around you. He can feel the pleasure building up, nerve endings still sensitive from orgasm flaring up almost painfully sharp, his pussy makes loud, obscenely wet sounds as you fingerfuck it. He’s panting hard until your free hand slides up to his neck, caresses it gently, but firmly, and he tenses up, mouth open, eyes going unfocused. When you tighten your grip on his neck, your other hand still fucking his tight cunt, he comes hard, eyes rolling back and hips rising from the bed in jerky, trashing motions.

When he finally calms down, sweating and shivering against you, his thighs weak and covered in his own fluids, you catch his chin, force him to meet your eyes with a smirk.

“Still think you can do it yourself?”

He gives you his little spoiled smile, eyes glimmering from under half-lowered eyelids.

“I never do something myself if I can find someone who can do it better.“

Gorou

You notice how he starts fidgeting when you groom his tail, especially when you touch the base of it. It twitches in your hands, and his whole body tenses, while he’s hiding his eyes from you. He tries to be inconspicuous, biting his lips to keep quiet, clutching his hands on his lap, but you can see how he’s rubbing his thighs together, trying to get any friction for his aching cunt.

“Is something wrong?” you ask with concern.

“No!” he protests immediately. He was too busy with rebellion for so long, too focused and preoccupied with being a good general and keeping up respectable image for his troops that he completely neglected his love life, and now he feels too inexperienced, doesn’t know what to do when he realizes that he wants you.

“You seem uncomfortable, should I stop?”

“No, please, I’m fine,” he mutters weakly, still unable to meet your eyes. He’s ashamed, but it just feels so good. When you touch him, liquid warmth pools down in his belly, pulsing so maddeningly sweetly like he’s never felt before.

“Do you want more?” you ask, catching his chin. He blushes brilliantly and, unable to force himself to say it out loud, nods.

“Good boy,” you whisper into his ear when he meekly lets you pull him onto your lap, and he shudders, going weak and dizzy from praise and your hands roaming over his body. He starts squirming when you kiss him, slide your hands under his top to find the small buds of his tender nipples, already hard. His pussy throbs almost painfully, he wants you to touch it so badly it drives him crazy, but instead you run your fingers over his tense stomach, stroke his ass and sensitive base of his tail. He whimpers and bucks his hips against you, cunt already soaking wet and needy, and you chuckle.

“What is it, baby?”

“Please…” he whines. “Please touch me…”

You smirk, kissing trail down his neck, and he writhes desperately in your arms, but freezes when he feels you playing with the band of his pants. You still don’t touch his pussy though, keep drawing teasing circles on his stomach, moving lower and lower, but slow, so torturously slow. At the same time your mouth finds his nipple, hot tongue circling a little hard peak, and he mewls pathetically, arching, drawn tense like a bowstring, his chest rising in quick and shallow breaths under your lips. He feels hazy and overwhelmed, blood ringing in his ears, all his nerves painfully raw, so when your hand finally covers his clit, he comes immediately with a choked gasp, his fingers clutching at your shoulders, hips trembling, instinctively thrusting against your palm.

You smile, holding him close, let him lean on you, rubbing soothing circles over his back, your other hand still in between his legs.

“You’re really so sensitive that you can cum just from that, huh, puppy?”

“I’m sorry…” He blushes even harder, tries to hide his face in the crook of your neck, ashamed of himself, but most of all, of the fact that despite just coming, he still feels horny, his hole unsatisfyingly clenching over emptiness, and he wants so badly to have your fingers inside of him.

“It’s okay, baby. You did good. Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes!” he answers so fast and his tail starts swinging so enthusiastically that you chuckle.

“Such a needy little slut,” you finally start massaging his wet aching cunt and he whimpers gratefully despite embarrassment. “Take off your clothes.”

He’s glad to receive orders, he likes clear commands that he can obey and know that he’s doing good, be rewarded for that. He’s pulling his shirt off, but it’s hard, your fingers caressing his pussy distract him, make him shudder and tangle in his cloth. He almost loses his balance, but finally gets free, pink and panting, and you reward him by stroking his clit. He moans, grinds himself against your palm and tries to take off his pants, but he’s too wobbly from pleasure, tugging fruitlessly at his belt.

Impatiently, you pull him down and turn him over, so he’s lying on his stomach, and yank his pants off. He yelps in surprise, but doesn’t struggle, secretly thrilled by how easily and confidently you handle him.

You run your fingers in-between his slick folds, and he instinctively rocks against you, lifting his hips and spreading his knees, his face pressed into the bedsheets. He’s dizzy from desire and the thought of pleasing you, and pangs of shame for acting like this, exposing himself so needily only somehow add to the arousal, make it sharper.

You press a finger against his entrance and scratch his ears.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Yes…”

You slide your finger into his tiny cunt and despite how wet he is, he’s still so tight that you have to work it in slowly.

“Had you never fingered yourself?”

“No,” he answers quietly, too embarrassed to meet your eyes. He only stroked his clit before, rubbing his thighs together, imagining you touching him, and it was enough for him to cum. Now he’s gasping, arching his back, thrusting up when you start pumping your finger in and out, but when you press another at his entrance, he whimpers pitifully and clenches up.

“Relax,” you tell him, softly stroking his back in reassurance. “You have to open up, puppy.”

He looks up at you over the shoulder, his bright eyes unfocused and gleaming wetly, bangs tousled and plastered over the sweaty forehead.

“But it feels so big…”

“It’s just two fingers. You’ll have to learn how to take in much more than that. You want me to fuck you with a cock, don’t you, baby?”

He bites his lips and nods, blushing violently. You press your thumb against his clit, sending white hot jolts of pleasure through his entire body, and he melts, his hole unclenching so that you can ease another finger in.

“Here we go. Good boy,” you curl your fingers inside of him, making him writhe needily in front of you, then carefully start fucking them in and out, slowly increasing your tempo, until he’s moaning and making tiny whimpers, hips bucking up erratically, fingers clawing at the bedsheets, his mouth going slack so that small string of drool escapes his lips. When you finally take your fingers out, he’s lost count how many times he came, flashes of pleasure rolling over him one after the other, leaving his body limp and his pussy sore, but so satisfied. You pull him to your chest and he curls against you, feeling tired, warm and taken care of.

Kaeya

He doesn’t tell you that it’s his first time. In part, he’s curious if he can pull it off, make you think he knows what he’s doing. He’s confident and graceful enough to seem smooth, and an amazing kisser, tongue sliding against yours on the exquisite edge between sensual and filthy. A blush that would look bright on someone paler just gives his ochre-brown skin a warm pinkish underglow.

Another reason is that inexperience is always a disadvantage and he doesn’t like showing weakness, only lets people have as much power over him as he knows he can take back or work around. He doesn’t want you to know how your lips on his throat make a shiver run down his spine, how a liquid tangle of nervousness and desire grows in the pit of his stomach when you unbutton his shirt, expose more and more of his skin. He shrugs off his jacket with a pointed carelessness, confident smirk never leaving his lips when you fully slide his shirt off his shoulders.

There’s no reason to see this as something special anyway. He wants pleasure, not complications, and if you knew, you might get presumptuous ideas that it means something or, archons forbid, decide to get feelings involved. You might treat him differently, slowly and carefully, like he’s fragile, which he detests. He had to be on guard since he was a small kid, he can handle sex. He likes the unrestrained hunger in your kisses, how roughly you grab his hips to pull him closer, how your hand slides between his legs to find him already wet.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” he asks with a smug smirk, unbuckling his belt.

There’s another reason, deep down, in the darkest corners of his mind, that he thinks about only very drunk and doesn’t speak out loud even then. He doesn’t deserve gentleness, judged unworthy and left for dead a long time ago. It’s a good thing that he realized it’s better for everyone if nobody cares about him too much. Sex is just for fun and nothing more.

“I don’t want to waste any more time getting to the good part.”

He lets you push him down on the bed, leans back on his elbows and lifts his hips to help you pull off his pants and underwear, a barely noticeable flinch of his thighs when he stops an instinctive urge to close his legs.

“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow with a playful complaint. “And I was looking forward to teasing you a little more.”

“Well then, go ahead. Anything you want, my knight. And I’d love to see how you plan to do it after already…” you flick your eyes over his naked body and smirk, “baring all of your cards.”

He scoffs pridefully, lifting his chin, making sure not to show that you calling his bluff caught him off-guard. It doesn’t matter, he was never the one to back down on his bets. He always liked a challenge and he’ll be damned if he can’t put on a show. If he was marked a sinner just by birthright, might as well get some fun out of it.

So he arches his back and spreads his thighs, an intoxicating feverish thrill from how hungrily you rake your eyes over him mixing with both his own arousal and nervousness into a heady, daring mix. “This is not even half of my cards… and you might never see all of them.”

His heartbeat echoes in his ears, fast and loud, but he holds your gaze with the same teasing smirk as he runs his hand down his body before slipping a finger into his wet cunt. The way you watch him, captivated, hungry, spreads the liquid fire through his veins, he grins wolfishly, wild, radiant. It feels so good, how he can make you move closer just by arching his neck and moving his fingers, like tugging a string, an almost gravitational pull between you bodies, desire strong enough to be honest at least in something, and at least for five fucking minutes it doesn’t matter who he is, just what he is now - wanted.

“Is this teasing enough for you?”

“You win this round without question,” you lean down, hovering over him without touching, and he lets out a breezy chuckle.

“Then what are you waiting for? Give me my prize.”

You claim his smiling lips and slide your finger into him, and he surprisingly feels much tighter than you’ve expected. He takes a few ragged breaths, a torturous, sweet burn of both of your fingers stretching him makes him dizzy. He tries to smile nonchalantly, but it’s a little too much, both pleasure and discomfort and the shamefully shameless way his legs are spread and both of you are moving inside of him, fingers touching, working him up.

He doesn’t want to come undone while you’re still too pulled together, too in control, so he throws his free arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

“Come on, fuck me already.”

“You’re still a little tight, baby.”

He scowls, tensing up, so you kiss his jaw soothingly. “Just a bit longer, don’t worry.”

You misinterpret him, he’s not worried that it’ll take longer, he’s worried that you even cared enough to take longer, and even worse, that there’s something small fluttering under his collarbones at the thought that you might care.

“I thought you wanted to get straight to the good part,” he challenges, purposefully arrogant.

“I’ve already got there,” you gently pull his hand out and bring it to your mouth to kiss his knuckles that still have his taste on them. “Seeing you mad with pleasure *is* the good part.”

He blushes, breath hitching for a second, fingers twitching against your lips. Probably because he’s irritated at how stubborn you insist on being for no reason, treating him like he’s made of glass.

“It’s fine. I can handle it. It always feels like this.”

“I don’t know what oafs didn’t bother prepping you properly before fucking,” you ease another finger in, “but I know how to treat a treasure when I get my hands on it.”

“I bet you tell it to any pretty face you get into your bed,” he says dismissively, his face showing nothing, but you can feel him tighten around your fingers. You didn’t expect that he’ll react to the offhand remark and even more, try to hide it, so instead of joking in return, you answer seriously.

“Of course not. And you know that you’re so much more than a pretty face.”

He raises an eyebrow with a crooked smile.

“Oh, really? Could I seduce you with my strategic planning skills? My unmatched talent for creating ice bridges?”

It’s weirdly endearing how inconspicuously he tries to fish for compliments, hiding it under sarcasm. He was always so confident and flirty, you didn’t consider that he might be used to giving compliments more than to receiving them, which seems like a terrible oversight on the parts of both society and you.

“Your sparkling charm. Your effortless sharp wit,” you tell him, intentionally without even a hint of irony, while slowly stroking silky tight walls inside of him. “The way you look after people, even when you hate to admit it. How you are smart, funny, capable and lovely. And too proud to admit that you want anything of this recognized.”

He opens his mouth to retort and somehow can’t find any words, gasping for air, his thoughts tangling uselessly as your fingers move faster and faster, your thumb pressing on his clit.

“See, I couldn’t say it to anyone else,” you whisper into his ear, curling your fingers to hit his sweet spot, feel him pulse and buckle his hips. “Because there’s no one like you, Kaeya.”

It’s the way you say his name, low and tender, that finally unravels him. He moans shakily, digs his nails into your shoulders, rocks himself onto your fingers, toes curling on the bedsheets.

“Yeah, baby, just like that, come on.”

You fuck him through the waves of pleasure, until movements of his hips become jerky and erratic. Then you slow down, but don’t pull your fingers out, just lightly circling his clit with your thumb, and his cunt aches, too sensitive and raw after orgasm. He closes his legs, but it just drives your fingers deeper. Instinctively, he reaches out for you, but you catch his wrists with your free hand, pull them up over his head and feel his walls clench.

“Hmm, you like that, don’t you, baby? You should’ve told me beforehand.”

He didn’t know he liked it himself before the very moment current of arousal ran through his body when you grabbed his wrists. Now, as you hold him down, looming over him, fluttery desire is wounding up tightly in the pit of his stomach.

“Isn’t it more fun to discover things for yourself?” he tries to sound nonchalant, but his voice comes out rugged, huskier than usual. “I told you I don’t show all of my cards at once.”

You chuckle, giving him a light kiss, one of your hands gently stroking the tender underside of his wrist and the other - his swollen clit. He looks gorgeous sprawled under you, slender and long-limbed, muscles tensing under the smooth skin, flushed and breathing heavily in the afterglow, his cunt softly throbbing under your caress.

“Well, I could have prepared something if I knew, but I guess we’ll just improvise.”

You tie his hands to the bedframe with his own cape. He can tell it’s strong enough to keep him from struggling, but not too tight to hurt or stop him if he really wanted to get free. He likes that, the binds on his wrists certainly feel good, but he’s not used to this, would hate to feel actually trapped.

You stroke his inner thighs when you spread them, press the head of your strap\cock against his entrance. He watches you slide into him, breathing heavily through parted lips, hands that tied over his head balling up in fists, but from the intensity of the feeling, not the pain.  

“See? Doesn’t it feel better when you’re fully ready and opened up for me?”

He bites his lip and gives you a deliciously wicked grin, his voice dropping almost to a purr. “Fine, I’ll admit… You win this round.”

You catch his mouth and drive your cock deeper inside, until it’s buried to the hilt, and he moans into your kiss, rises up in a shaky, shuddering wave, his knees trembling closed and falling apart again when you start slowly moving your hips.

He rarely gets drunk enough to lose control, even slightly, no matter how much he drinks, and when he does, it’s always a conscious decision, a trade-off to forget himself just for a little while, even if he fully knows he’s going to feel like shit afterwards. Now he arches into you and closes his eyes with the same feeling, but it doesn’t matter. No one takes dirty talk during sex seriously.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” he whispers against your skin, barely audible, all in one breath like taking a shot of firewhiskey, “but tell me that you want me.”

“I want you more than anyone else,” you keep gradually increasing the rhythm of your movements, drink sweet choked gasps from his lips. “I want to take you whole, everything you have,” you reach between the two of you to stroke his clit, and he shudders, his long legs circling your waist to hold you closer. You see his long fingers twitching and reach up with your free arm, cover his tied hands with your own and intertwine your fingers. His breath hitches and he clasps at your hand almost painfully hard, and just for a moment he looks truly vulnerable and raw, no games, no smokes and mirrors.

“Promise me… Tell me that even if…”

He stops himself, shuts his eyes and bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, but the helplessness and yearning in his voice already cuts you like a knife.

“Kaeya, what is it? Tell me, what do you want?” you can feel him closing off no matter how much in your power his body is. “Anything for you, baby, just tell me.”

He comes apart, filled by you, legs tightening around your waist, fingers of his tied hands intertwined with yours, clutching hard enough to make even his tan knuckles whiten. When he’s arching in your arms, he blindly finds your neck with his mouth and lightly grazes it with his teeth, half a kiss and half a bite, leaving just a smudge of blood from his lip. Then he goes slack, his legs falling apart limply, his fingers letting go of you with a final shudder.

You slip out of him, but don’t let go, gently cup his cheek, his unsaid pleas still ringing in your ears.

“Hey, what did you want to say?”

He looks away for a moment, then meets your eyes with his usual easy smile.

“Nothing, You know how people talk gibberish when they’re close.”

Kaeya Part two

[kanencrow]

Hi! Idk if i requested this already bc i have a bad memory but can I request a twdg separate vi and clem x reader who is very tall, kinda intimidating, has lots of scars and tattoos and a very cold looking facade demeanour like to the point ppl are afraid to talk to them bc they look like they're glaring at everything until one night everyone is playing war like in the game at the couches and at the fire and reader is actually very kind, funny and has a very beautiful smile that they're kinda shocked and feel bad abt assuming things abt them and think reader is very pretty?

Warm Underneath the Cold - The Walking Dead | Headcanon

A/N: I gotchu! Hope you enjoy!

SUMMARY: How would Clementine and Violet react to Y/n, who's cold and stoic on the outside, but kindhearted and warm on the inside?

WARNINGS: Clem and Vi silently simping for you.

WORD COUNT: 573

CLEMENTINE

She can definitely relate to the stoic, ‘don’t talk to me’ demeanor. Whether it’s intentional or not, she’s not offended by your resting expressions that may or may not unintentionally convey unfriendliness. You’re tall, which was pretty intimidating at first, and the same could have been said for your tattoos and scars. She almost wanted to ask where in the hell you even had the time to get a tattoo, but she decided against it. But nonetheless, she can’t deny that you intrigue her. Yet, she wasn’t entirely sure how to approach you. In her defense, it wasn't like you expressed a super friendly exterior, so you couldn’t really blame her hesitancy. 

However, when Louis suggested a game at the couches one night, Clementine thought of it as a chance to sneakily try and get to know you. There was something inside her that was telling her to not make it obvious that she was interested in getting to know you. Though, you could definitely tell that the leader of Ericson had her eye on you, but you didn’t make it obvious that you knew. It was normal to tip-toe around someone, but as the game of cards ventured on further into the night, that constant urge to be subtle slowly faded. Especially when you started showing to her and everyone else that you were friendly. 

You had a nice smile, a cute laugh, and Clementine admired the way your eyes shined whenever someone cracked a giggle at one of your jokes, or whenever you found something someone else said amusing. You weren’t just a comedic personality though. The brunette could clearly see that you had a kind soul, and she made a mental note to actually make the effort to get to know you, once the game of cards ended for the night.

VIOLET

Violet likes to keep to herself more often than not. Seeing you come into the community and becoming acquainted with the members that resided within didn’t really catch her focus. She isn’t much of a people person, so when she saw your tall form walking around the courtyard, she didn’t find herself very interested in your presence. Sure, your tattoos were cool, and you looked mysteriously intriguing, but to her, you were just another new person that probably didn’t plan on staying at Ericson for very long. 

It was an assumption that she soon realized was incorrect. Either way, she didn’t really mind it. You were still someone that just so happened to mutually live around the school. Really, your existence didn’t interest her at all, until Louis suggested a game night around the fire in the courtyard. Her lack of care wasn’t anything personal. She was just an introverted soul, and it didn’t really help your relationship, because you didn’t make much of an effort to approach the blonde, either. 

However, when Louis eventually forced everyone to gather around for a game of truth and truth, Violet unintentionally started to like you. Your intimidating aura, and your cold and stoic demeanor slowly shifted into sincerity and generosity, which certainly felt like whiplash to her. When you smiled, she couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that would form on her own lips, and when you laughed, she couldn’t help but smirk to herself as she glanced down at her lap. She didn’t want to admit it, but after a simple game of cards, you definitely got onto her good side.

Unintentionally. 

[yellowsugarwords]

heyy:)

I've been going through your old posts bc you have such an excellent writing style and I found your "how they’d react to getting into an argument that breaks them and their partner up" post. I've been in a pretty angsty mood lately so maybe if you can could you make something similar to this but now in the redo the Ericson kids' (ex) partner seems to be unfazed by this break-up (as if their relationship meant nothing) and how the Ericson kids would react to this Thanks in advance<3

OOO THE DRAMA IS HOT TODAY I hope you enjoy the angst lol. and thank you for being so sweet about my writing omg ;-; 💛

here is the link to the previous post they’re referring to!

Marlon: Marlon would try to act un-phased but wouldn’t be able to. He kept glancing Y/N’s way, wondering what they were thinking, debating if they missed him at all. They seemed fine, as though everything was business as normal/. They even smiled more than they did a mere week ago. Were they really that happy with him gone? He retired to isolate himself from the others, thinking and wallowing in his sadness. Every now and then, he would take out his aggression by shooting arrows or chopping wood. He had too much angry energy he needed to release.

Louis: Louis tried to crack jokes and brush it off whenever his friends swung by to chat with him, but inside, his heart was shattered on the floor. He hated knowing they were happily wandering through every day un-phased by him leaving their life for good. Did he matter that little to them when they were dating? His friends would occasionally ask and he would quickly brush it off and crack a joke, making no one the wiser. He didn’t want anyone to worry. Well, he wanted Y/N to worry, but they didn’t seem to care anymore.

Violet: Violet would act as though she was un-phased, waving her hands and dismissing anyone who darted to accuse her of acting differently. She was extra on-edge and hostile these days. Everyone knew why, but tip-toed around the subject. She was one wrong word from being set off for good. Violet hated seeing how happy Y/N was. She wanted to be passive aggressive toward them, but she couldn’t. Deep down, she still cared, so she bottled it all up and took it out elsewhere.

Mitch: Mitch tried to show he cared as equally as they did, meaning not a lot. Y/N was acting happier than ever and seemed to be doing chores as per usual. If he hadn’t known, he never would’ve expected anything was wrong. He tried to avoid them as much as he could, not wanting to pay them any mind, but snuck glances whenever he was sure they weren’t looking and couldn’t catch him. He couldn’t believe they were this fine. Did they feel like this the whole time they were together? The thought made his heart sink, and his bitterness turn into sorrow.

Aasim: Aasim would feel like garbage, but seeing how happy Y/N was without him around? It made him feel atrocious. The worst he’d felt in years. Seeing them happy and carefree was like a knife to the gut. It took everything out of him to wander around every day, being in their presence, seeing them total unphased about losing him. Every day was agonizing. Marlon always said time would heal all wounds, but Aasim thought time was taking way too long.

Ruby: Ruby would be devastated. While she tried to fake smiles and force a kind demeanor, whenever any Ericson kid saw through it, she broke down. “I just wish they acted like they missed me,” she would confess, a mess of emotions and pain. She was devastated knowing how happy they seemed with her out of their life. “They barely waited a day before acting happy,” she fumbled out. “Did I really make them feel that terrible?”

Omar: Omar would keep to himself, being quiet and distant. When friends checked in, he forced a smile and brushed them off. The last thing he wanted was anyone getting worried over him. Y/N was the one person he was hoping would notice, but they were in their own world. They were laughing, doing chores, hanging out with the Ericson kids for fun. They looked happier than they’d been in a long time. Omar couldn’t help but worry if he was the one who had made them miserable.

Brody: Brody felt like a shell of who she used to be. Meanwhile, Y/N was acting like a whole new personal; thriving, chatty, and happy. It was devastating to see. Brody didn’t want them to be miserable - she never did - but they were so happy with her gone, it was agony to see their joy. Normally, Brody kept to herself, hiding out in her room whenever she could, crying as her chest tightened around her heart. She just wanted them to care, was that too much to ask?

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 💌☕️♡

[blis00ya]

erwin and zoe's families

disclaimer: yes, until i find a picrew that satisfies me for my OCs, my filipino actors and a british actress remain their faces.

hange family

the filipino drama Legal Wives was the biggest inspiration for this family hence the actors/characs as my OCs' faces (these aren't their characs' names). i was also exploring islam during this time hence my decision to make them a muslim family (but zoe doesn't really practice it).

ZACKLEY

i chose zackley as the father bcs they both have Z as initials, wear glasses, and authority figures. i also decided to make him greek to honor zoe's seemingly canon half/full greek race.

ZAINA (zey-nah)

i've always envisioned their mother to have a strict demeanor with an intimidating face and irma adlawan suits her so much. i decided to make her palestinian because i've always HC zoe as half-arab too but i felt most comfy with the latter.

she was the one who pursued zackley after a vacation in his home country.

XERXES (ser-ses)

the reliable and dependable big brother whom zoe runs to whenever their parents (esp their mom) force or reprimand her, he softens the blow and protects her. as a child, he prayed for a sibling and all of what he asked for manifested in zoe so he has a particular soft spot for her. he recites in their local masjid, the favorite of both their parents.

i got his name from a random list of names starting with x, but alfred vargas had always been his face, when i saw him while watching the drama, i went "fuck yeah, that's xerxes".

ZOE

the intelligent and curious middle child and the root of all their mother's stress. their father's favorite because she reminds him of his messy and carefree days, so he gives her all the space she needs. a bit careless and naive, it worries their mother but zoe is the only one she entrusts with her pharmacy business.

CECIL (che-chil)

the cheeky, smart, modest youngest sister whom zoe is protective of the way xerxes is to her. she came as a surprise but she's the one who completed the family. unlike the social butterfly xerxes and talkative zoe, cecil mostly keeps to herself and her books and has a great interest and faith in their religion, making her their mother's favorite. but she will always side with zoe no matter the situation.

i named her after one of my close mutuals from aottwt, and shayne sava's portrayal of her character (well-spoken and elegant) sits just so right with me and fits cecil (my oc) well.

i did say zoe has a big family and i mean it, im still contemplating if ill add the original family tree i made for the hange fam since it has atla characs in it; but in my longest-standing lore, it was mike who's the closest cousin they have but i get so stressed thinking of the family he has so i cant add him in the fam tree even if hes still a cousin

smith family

i've always had the names edward and victoria as the names of erwin's parents, also since we really didn't get a name for erwin's dad. the face for victoria's mom was from the indian movie Lagaan (which i so love btw). nanaba was kinda a last-minute addition for this hc just bcs i suddenly realized having erwin as an only child isn't quite realistic to me even if the whole HC is utopian as fuck.

EDWARD

a half-german/half-british professor and businessman who suddenly found himself in a not-so arranged marriage with the only heir of a big company in UK.

VICTORIA

when i saw how rachel shelley was, well, accordingly styled in the movie considering it's a historical one, and how her charac had a strong look on her face yet very sweet and lovely when she smiles, it's already very fitting with how i envision erwin's mom.

an englishwoman who fell in love with edward at first sight while she was doing a university tour.

ERWIN

the serious and brave eldest brother who was already tasked to inherit the family business, their parents believed they were blessed with him as their son because he wholeheartedly accepted his role as an heir at a very young age. the typical everything he does is for the family. almost the exact carbon copy of their father.

NANABA

the troublesome and outgoing youngest sister whom erwin can't seem to discipline so they always clash but she's let go easily as she's their mother's favorite. erwin eventually allowed her to lead some subsidiaries that are in her strongest suit.

adding her is also very natural to me since i've had numerous HCs where the two of them are either siblings or cousins.

[rhine-gold-archive]

Hii! I wanted to tell you that I love your sub writing so much, it makes my day every time you post. Even when I’m not a fan of the character, I enjoy your fics. I can see you posting requests, but I didn’t find your request form. Maybe you’ll be interested in writing first time, but for AFAB! Genshin boys? I’d especially love to see Diluc or Gorou, but anything you’d like would be great. Ignore this ask if I'm out of line and have a nice day!

First time sub afab! Character x GN Dom! Reader

Characters: Kaeya, Ayato, Diluc, Gorou

A\N: I generally don’t do specific scenario requests, but you’re in luck, bc Ayato and Kaeya parts fully formed in my head the moment I read your ask, and then I got an interesting visual for Diluc, to congratulate him for coming out as a kinky goth. I added Gorou bc you asked, but don’t really like how it turned out tbh, but I hope you’ll enjoy somewhat.

Warnings: nsfw, fingering, slight degradation (name calling), nipple play, praise kink, overstimulation, oral (character receiving), cock stands for cock\strap (only relevant for Kaeya’s part, bc of shameless favoritism he gets twice the content)

Wordcount: 5,5k

Diluc

His lips are eager when you kiss him, but he's a little tense in your arms. He tries to hide nervousness, keeping up his usual confident demeanor, unbuttoning his cravat and vest with brisk efficiency, but his fingers are a little stiff and his cheeks are pink.

A bit of anxiety is normal for his first time, but you start getting concerned when you get to his shirt and he tenses even more, his movements becoming wooden. This is not a spontaneous decision for him, he clearly planned this evening for some time - he spent his birthday collecting fresh valberries in the mountains, made a special dinner for the two of you and after it pulled you into his bedroom, crimson eyes intense and excited. But even so, something might be wrong and you know he’s the type of stubbornly proud to keep quiet even if he becomes uncomfortable, so you gently cup his blushing cheek.

“Hey, is everything alright? You know we can wait, don’t force yourself.”

He huffs, half embarrassed, half exasperated, still not meeting your eyes. 

“It’s not that.”

This morning he put on fancy underwear, red silk and lace, an expensive piece he bought sometime ago on a whim and never wore before. It seemed perfect for the occasion, and throughout the day he felt tingly butterflies in his stomach, like he was hiding something - for once, it had nothing to do with violence or intrigues of his enemies, but a secret to be shared between the two of you tonight, anticipation of your surprise when you see it on him.

But now suddenly he feels anxious about it. This piece is so unlike him, a flimsy half-transparent thing, it was meant for someone sweet and seductive, with tender skin and delicate build, some society beauty and not a warrior like him. What if it looks foolish on him, with his prominent angular hipbones, hard muscles and many scars? He should’ve stuck to his usual style, plain and black, instead of trying to feel special, and now the idea of you thinking he’s ridiculous leaves him almost irrationally paralyzed.

“Then what is it, baby?”

Candleflames all over the room flicker as he grits his teeth. He feels frustrated, mad at himself, but his temper urges him to act when he feels unsure. He unclasps his belt with jerky motions, almost angrily, you frown at this until you notice red silk underneath.

“Wait, what’s that? It’s beautiful!”

He finally looks up at you with relief barely hidden.

“Oh? You like it?”

“I love it. It looks so hot on you.”

He lights up, trying to look nonchalant, but can’t help a small flattered smile when you pull him into a kiss, melts against you, anxious tension finally gone. When you start rubbing his clit through the thin layer of silk, he shivers, clings to you, and because his eyes are still closed, at first doesn’t see that the candleflames are flickering again, now even brighter. When he finally notices it, he sharply draws his breath and all fires go out, plunging the room into the darkness.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” you whisper into his ear while caressing his tensed up body soothingly.

This is so embarrassing, he’s used to lighting up the candles with a quick thought, so now that his emotions are in turmoil which isn’t an anger of combat, his vision reflexively reaches for the familiar safe outlet.

“It’s not going to be okay when I burn down the house around our ears,” he grunts, violently bright blush glowing even in the darkness.

“You won’t. Let go, baby, just relax,” you kiss him, his lips, jaw, neck, keep stroking his clit until he starts squirming against you, unable to contain himself. You press him down on the bed, get rid of the rest of his clothes until he's wearing nothing but the red silk panties. You trail kisses down his body, sharp collarbones, heavy breathing chest, sensitive buds of his nipples that are hard even before you swirl your tongue around them, scarred ribs and tense abs, until you slowly pull his panties down and press your lips to his clit. He gasps silently, throws his arm over his eyes and clamps up his thighs nervously, and the candles lit up, volatile flames rising up.

“You’re so lovely, babe,” you whisper against his skin. “Open up, let me see you.”

He shivers like the candlefires all around you, anxious anticipation ready to turn to the deeper passion. He lets you tug his underwear off and spread his legs, exposing his wet flushed cunt. 

“Good boy,” you murmur quietly and watch how his entrance clenches. You give it a slow, long lick and he gasps quitely, fire sparking up around the room. He’s been eating mountain berries all day, so he tastes fresh and sweet, a little tangy, his soft tender flesh pulsing under your lips in the same rhythm as the flickering flames. 

When your finger circles his entrance, the light dies down again, you can see him nervously holding his breath. You suck on his swollen clit until his hole throbs and opens up despite the anxiety, then carefully slide your finger in and curl it to caress his sweet spot. He gasps, bucks his hips involuntarily, candles flaring up all around you. You ease another finger in, start fucking him, slowly incresing the tempo, and he tries to keep quiet, only lets out harsh chocked grunts, but the flames all over the room are beating feveresly like the wings of crimon butterflies, painting the room and his pale body in gold, orange lights and deep dark shadows.

When he’s close, he reaches for you, pulls you up with such a needy sweet whimper that you let him without resistance, throws his arms around your shoulders, holding you close. He’s thrusting his hips into your fingers, and the room is lit in the colors of the sunrise if it was not a slow ascent, but a beating heart, - pulsing splashes of amber and yellow, mauve pink and intense crimson, fires on many candlesticks and fireplace roaring up far bigger than they ever could. He comes pressed against you, fingers digging into your shoulders, and the candelabras and fireplaces all over the mansion light up, for just a moment the winery looks illuminated in the night like the dawn really exploded inside of it. 

After, he falls down on the bed, breathing heavily, lips parted and crimson eyes glowing as he looks up at you, your fingers still buried deep inside him.

“Did you enjoy it, baby?”

“Yes,” he answers quietly, but firmly, blush on his cheeks, but no shame in his voice.

“Good,” you grin, spread his knees and watch his breath hitch. “Because your birthday present doesn’t end until you beg me to stop…” 

Ayato

Ayato might not have personal experience, but he is not naive. He’s read about this. He knows all of the mechanics. He’s thought about this in detail and he has no shame about it. Why would he, when knows he’s exquisite, a pleasure for anyone to reap. False modesty seems ridiculous here.

He’s in between your legs, naked, his back pressed to your chest, a big mirror on the opposite wall, allowing you to see his pale, slender body fully. 

Your hands glide over his skin, his shoulders, pluck his nipples, then down the chest and ribs and over tense stomach, until reaching down  to his thighs. You spread his legs and fix them with your own, so he’s completely open, his pink cunt exposed to your eyes in the mirror, already flushed and wet. Your fingertip circles his clit slowly, lightly, and his body tenses in your arms.

“It feels different when you touch me,” he says, drawing his breath. “Sharper, somehow. Better.”

“Compared to what?” you ask, grinning, watching his subtle squirms in the mirror as you continue rubbing his clit with more and more pressure.

“To when I touched myself, of course,” he says, completely shameless. 

“Have you imagined me fucking you?”

“Obviously. Haven’t you imagined fucking me?” he meets your eyes in the mirror with his little arrogant smirk, even as your hand in between his open legs makes him shudder.

“Of course,” you admit, smiling against the side of his neck. 

“How?”

You kiss his arched throat and tender juncture between his neck and shoulder. “I think it’ll be more fun to keep it a surprise.”

As you tease his clit, his delicate folds tremble and open slowly, exposing his entrance, dark pink and pulsing with desire. He holds your gaze in the mirror, even if he swallows harshly and blushes.

“Have you fucked yourself there?” you ask softly, your lips pressed to his ear, your finger circling his twitching, wanting hole without entering.

“Yes…” his voice falters, he watches your movements intently. His entrance trembles and leaks a clear string of liquid and he blushes harder, but doesn’t try to close his legs.

“How many fingers?” you ask, still teasing his aching cunt. Your free hand roams over his tense body, sliding over the tender skin, playing with hard, aroused peaks of nipples.

“Two,” he’s breathing heavily through the open mouth, and you can feel his heartbeat fastening. You tantalizingly slowly stroke his silken wet folds, delicate like petals of his heraldic camellias, allowing him time to fully take in the obscene image in the mirror. 

“Have you tasted yourself?”

“No… not yet,” he lets out, head dizzy from the scandalous depravity of this view of himself, naked, spread wide open, hips squirming needily, trying to get your fingers on his throbbing clit or dripping hole, bedsheets under him already stained with a wet patch. Such contrast to his usual controlled elegance and detached sophistication, and anticipation that this is just the beginning turns him on even more.

You finally slide your finger inside. He’s so wet that it goes in easily, allowing you to bury it to the knuckle. You hook it, stroking his pulsing walls, as he clenches around you, gasping through the parted lips, his eyes fixed on your hand between his legs.

You pull your finger out, a wet string drawing out after it from his hole. 

His eyes snap to yours in the mirror, intense, demanding, and you smile.

“Look how wet and desperate you are already. You thought you could compare touching yourself to what I’ll do to you?”

Holding his gaze, you bring your finger covered in his wetness to his parted lips. You put it on his warm, waiting tongue and he blushes harder, pink almost as dark as his cunt spreading over his cheeks and neck, and starts sucking.

“I’ll wreck you. I’ll drive you crazy, make you scream until you lose your voice.”

You kiss his neck and stroke his soft inner thighs, watching his hole pulse and drool eagerly, as his mouth is working on your finger. You slide a second finger through his lips and start gently fucking his mouth, and he moans, his hips bucking involuntarily against an empty air.

You grin, circling his hard nipple, fingers of your other hand sliding over his tongue.

“I bet I can make you cum just from this,” you whisper in his ear. “Just from fucking your pretty mouth and you seeing yourself wide open and wet like a little whore. Have you imagined yourself undone just from that?”

He shudders, his moan muffled by your fingers. In the mirror you both can see how his hole opens wide as it pulses, showing slick pink walls, beads of clear liquid dripping out. He makes a choked gasp when you thrust two of your fingers in and comes immediately, his legs shuddering and hands clutching at your thighs.

You don’t give him time to get a hold of himself, start pumping your fingers inside, stretching his throbbing cunt as it clenches around you. He can feel the pleasure building up, nerve endings still sensitive from orgasm flaring up almost painfully sharp, his pussy makes loud, obscenely wet sounds as you fingerfuck it. He’s panting hard until your free hand slides up to his neck, caresses it gently, but firmly, and he tenses up, mouth open, eyes going unfocused. When you tighten your grip on his neck, your other hand still fucking his tight cunt, he comes hard, eyes rolling back and hips rising from the bed in jerky, trashing motions.

When he finally calms down, sweating and shivering against you, his thighs weak and covered in his own fluids, you catch his chin, force him to meet your eyes with a smirk.

“Still think you can do it yourself?”

 He gives you his little spoiled smile, eyes glimmering from under half-lowered eyelids.

“I never do something myself if I can find someone who can do it better.“

Gorou

You notice how he starts fidgeting when you groom his tail, especially when you touch the base of it. It twitches in your hands, and his whole body tenses, while he’s hiding his eyes from you. He tries to be inconspicuous, biting his lips to keep quiet, clutching his hands on his lap, but you can see how he’s rubbing his thighs together, trying to get any friction for his aching cunt. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask with concern.

“No!” he protests immediately. He was too busy with rebellion for so long, too focused and preoccupied with being a good general and keeping up respectable image for his troops that he completely neglected his love life, and now he feels too inexperienced, doesn’t know what to do when he realizes that he wants you.

“You seem uncomfortable, should I stop?”

“No, please, I’m fine,” he mutters weakly, still unable to meet your eyes. He’s ashamed, but it just feels so good. When you touch him, liquid warmth pools down in his belly, pulsing so maddeningly sweetly like he’s never felt before. 

“Do you want more?” you ask, catching his chin. He blushes brilliantly and, unable to force himself to say it out loud, nods.

“Good boy,” you whisper into his ear when he meekly lets you pull him onto your lap, and he shudders, going weak and dizzy from praise and your hands roaming over his body. He starts squirming when you kiss him, slide your hands under his top to find the small buds of his tender nipples, already hard. His pussy throbs almost painfully, he wants you to touch it so badly it drives him crazy, but instead you run your fingers over his tense stomach, stroke his ass and sensitive base of his tail. He whimpers and bucks his hips against you, cunt already soaking wet and needy, and you chuckle.

“What is it, baby?”

“Please…” he whines. “Please touch me…”

You smirk, kissing trail down his neck, and he writhes desperately in your arms, but freezes when he feels you playing with the band of his pants. You still don’t touch his pussy though, keep drawing teasing circles on his stomach, moving lower and lower, but slow, so torturously slow. At the same time your mouth finds his nipple, hot tongue circling a little hard peak, and he mewls pathetically, arching, drawn tense like a bowstring, his chest rising in quick and shallow breaths under your lips. He feels hazy and overwhelmed, blood ringing in his ears, all his nerves painfully raw, so when your hand finally covers his clit, he comes immediately with a choked gasp, his fingers clutching at your shoulders, hips trembling, instinctively thrusting against your palm. 

You smile, holding him close, let him lean on you, rubbing soothing circles over his back, your other hand still in between his legs. 

“You’re really so sensitive that you can cum just from that, huh, puppy?”

“I’m sorry…” He blushes even harder, tries to hide his face in the crook of your neck, ashamed of himself, but most of all, of the fact that despite just coming, he still feels horny, his hole unsatisfyingly clenching over emptiness, and he wants so badly to have your fingers inside of him.

“It’s okay, baby. You did good. Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes!” he answers so fast and his tail starts swinging so enthusiastically that you chuckle.

“Such a needy little slut,” you finally start massaging his wet aching cunt and he whimpers gratefully despite embarrassment. “Take off your clothes.”

He’s glad to receive orders, he likes clear commands that he can obey and know that he’s doing good, be rewarded for that. He’s pulling his shirt off, but it’s hard, your fingers caressing his pussy distract him, make him shudder and tangle in his cloth. He almost loses his balance, but finally gets free, pink and panting, and you reward him by stroking his clit. He moans, grinds himself against your palm and tries to take off his pants, but he’s too wobbly from pleasure, tugging fruitlessly at his belt. 

Impatiently, you pull him down and turn him over, so he’s lying on his stomach, and yank his pants off. He yelps in surprise, but doesn’t struggle, secretly thrilled by how easily and confidently you handle him.

You run your fingers in-between his slick folds, and he instinctively rocks against you, lifting his hips and spreading his knees, his face pressed into the bedsheets. He’s dizzy from desire and the thought of pleasing you, and pangs of shame for acting like this, exposing himself so needily only somehow add to the arousal, make it sharper.

You press a finger against his entrance and scratch his ears.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Yes…”

You slide your finger into his tiny cunt and despite how wet he is, he’s still so tight that you have to work it in slowly. 

“Had you never fingered yourself?”

“No,” he answers quietly, too embarrassed to meet your eyes. He only stroked his clit before, rubbing his thighs together, imagining you touching him, and it was enough for him to cum. Now he’s gasping, arching his back, thrusting up when you start pumping your finger in and out, but when you press another at his entrance, he whimpers pitifully and clenches up.

“Relax,” you tell him, softly stroking his back in reassurance. “You have to open up, puppy.”

He looks up at you over the shoulder, his bright eyes unfocused and gleaming wetly, bangs tousled and plastered over the sweaty forehead.

“But it feels so big…”

“It’s just two fingers. You’ll have to learn how to take in much more than that. You want me to fuck you with a cock, don’t you, baby?”

He bites his lips and nods, blushing violently. You press your thumb against his clit, sending white hot jolts of pleasure through his entire body, and he melts, his hole unclenching so that you can ease another finger in. 

“Here we go. Good boy,” you curl your fingers inside of him, making him writhe needily in front of you, then carefully start fucking them in and out, slowly increasing your tempo, until he’s moaning and making tiny whimpers, hips bucking up erratically, fingers clawing at the bedsheets, his mouth going slack so that small string of drool escapes his lips. When you finally take your fingers out, he’s lost count how many times he came, flashes of pleasure rolling over him one after the other, leaving his body limp and his pussy sore, but so satisfied. You pull him to your chest and he curls against you, feeling tired, warm and taken care of.

Kaeya 

He doesn’t tell you that it’s his first time. In part, he’s curious if he can pull it off, make you think he knows what he’s doing. He’s confident and graceful enough to seem smooth, and an amazing kisser, tongue sliding against yours on the exquisite edge between sensual and filthy. A blush that would look bright on someone paler just gives his ochre-brown skin a warm pinkish underglow. 

Another reason is that inexperience is always a disadvantage and he doesn’t like showing weakness, only lets people have as much power over him as he knows he can take back or work around. He doesn’t want you to know how your lips on his throat make a shiver run down his spine, how a liquid tangle of nervousness and desire grows in the pit of his stomach when you unbutton his shirt, expose more and more of his skin. He shrugs off his jacket with a pointed carelessness, confident smirk never leaving his lips when you fully slide his shirt off his shoulders.

There’s no reason to see this as something special anyway. He wants pleasure, not complications, and if you knew, you might get presumptuous ideas that it means something or, archons forbid, decide to get feelings involved. You might treat him differently, slowly and carefully, like he’s fragile, which he detests. He had to be on guard since he was a small kid, he can handle sex. He likes the unrestrained hunger in your kisses, how roughly you grab his hips to pull him closer, how your hand slides between his legs to find him already wet.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” he asks with a smug smirk, unbuckling his belt.

There’s another reason, deep down, in the darkest corners of his mind, that he thinks about only very drunk and doesn’t speak out loud even then. He doesn’t deserve gentleness, judged unworthy and left for dead a long time ago. It’s a good thing that he realized it’s better for everyone if nobody cares about him too much. Sex is just for fun and nothing more.

“I don’t want to waste any more time getting to the good part.”

He lets you push him down on the bed, leans back on his elbows and lifts his hips to help you pull off his pants and underwear, a barely noticeable flinch of his thighs when he stops an instinctive urge to close his legs.

“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow with a playful complaint. “And I was looking forward to teasing you a little more.”

“Well then, go ahead. Anything you want, my knight. And I’d love to see how you plan to do it after already…” you flick your eyes over his naked body and smirk, “baring all of your cards.”

He scoffs pridefully, lifting his chin, making sure not to show that you calling his bluff caught him off-guard. It doesn’t matter, he was never the one to back down on his bets. He always liked a challenge and he’ll be damned if he can’t put on a show. If he was marked a sinner just by birthright, might as well get some fun out of it.

So he arches his back and spreads his thighs, an intoxicating feverish thrill from how hungrily you rake your eyes over him mixing with both his own arousal and nervousness into a heady, daring mix. “This is not even half of my cards… and you might never see all of them.”

His heartbeat echoes in his ears, fast and loud, but he holds your gaze with the same teasing smirk as he runs his hand down his body before slipping a finger into his wet cunt. The way you watch him, captivated, hungry, spreads the liquid fire through his veins, he grins wolfishly, wild, radiant. It feels so good, how he can make you move closer just by arching his neck and moving his fingers, like tugging a string, an almost gravitational pull between you bodies, desire strong enough to be honest at least in something, and at least for five fucking minutes it doesn’t matter who he is, just what he is now - wanted.

“Is this teasing enough for you?”

“You win this round without question,” you lean down, hovering over him without touching, and he lets out a breezy chuckle.

“Then what are you waiting for? Give me my prize.” 

You claim his smiling lips and slide your finger into him, and he surprisingly feels much tighter than you’ve expected. He takes a few ragged breaths, a torturous, sweet burn of both of your fingers stretching him makes him dizzy. He tries to smile nonchalantly, but it’s a little too much, both pleasure and discomfort and the shamefully shameless way his legs are spread and both of you are moving inside of him, fingers touching, working him up. 

He doesn’t want to come undone while you’re still too pulled together, too in control, so he throws his free arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

“Come on, fuck me already.”

“You’re still a little tight, baby.”

He scowls, tensing up, so you kiss his jaw soothingly. “Just a bit longer, don’t worry.”

You misinterpret him, he’s not worried that it’ll take longer, he’s worried that you even cared enough to take longer, and even worse, that there’s something small fluttering under his collarbones at the thought that you might care.

“I thought you wanted to get straight to the good part,” he challenges, purposefully arrogant.

“I’ve already got there,” you gently pull his hand out and bring it to your mouth to kiss his knuckles that still have his taste on them. “Seeing you mad with pleasure *is* the good part.”

He blushes, breath hitching for a second, fingers twitching against your lips. Probably because he’s irritated at how stubborn you insist on being for no reason, treating him like he’s made of glass.

“It’s fine. I can handle it. It always feels like this.”

“I don’t know what oafs didn’t bother prepping you properly before fucking,” you ease another finger in, “but I know how to treat a treasure when I get my hands on it.”

“I bet you tell it to any pretty face you get into your bed,” he says dismissively, his face showing nothing, but you can feel him tighten around your fingers. You didn’t expect that he’ll react to the offhand remark and even more, try to hide it, so instead of joking in return, you answer seriously.

“Of course not. And you know that you’re so much more than a pretty face.”

He raises an eyebrow with a crooked smile.

“Oh, really? Could I seduce you with my strategic planning skills? My unmatched talent for creating ice bridges?”

It’s weirdly endearing how inconspicuously he tries to fish for compliments, hiding it under sarcasm. He was always so confident and flirty, you didn’t consider that he might be used to giving compliments more than to receiving them, which seems like a terrible oversight on the parts of both society and you.

“Your sparkling charm. Your effortless sharp wit,” you tell him, intentionally without even a hint of irony, while slowly stroking silky tight walls inside of him. “The way you look after people, even when you hate to admit it. How you are smart, funny, capable and lovely. And too proud to admit that you want anything of this recognized.”

He opens his mouth to retort and somehow can’t find any words, gasping for air, his thoughts tangling uselessly as your fingers move faster and faster, your thumb pressing on his clit.

“See, I couldn’t say it to anyone else,” you whisper into his ear, curling your fingers to hit his sweet spot, feel him pulse and buckle his hips. “Because there’s no one like you, Kaeya.”

It’s the way you say his name, low and tender, that finally unravels him. He moans shakily, digs his nails into your shoulders, rocks himself onto your fingers, toes curling on the bedsheets.

“Yeah, baby, just like that, come on.”

You fuck him through the waves of pleasure, until movements of his hips become jerky and erratic. Then you slow down, but don’t pull your fingers out, just lightly circling his clit with your thumb, and his cunt aches, too sensitive and raw after orgasm. He closes his legs, but it just drives your fingers deeper. Instinctively, he reaches out for you, but you catch his wrists with your free hand, pull them up over his head and feel his walls clench. 

“Hmm, you like that, don’t you, baby? You should’ve told me beforehand.”

He didn’t know he liked it himself before the very moment current of arousal ran through his body when you grabbed his wrists. Now, as you hold him down, looming over him, fluttery desire is wounding up tightly in the pit of his stomach.

“Isn’t it more fun to discover things for yourself?” he tries to sound nonchalant, but his voice comes out rugged, huskier than usual. “I told you I don’t show all of my cards at once.”

You chuckle, giving him a light kiss, one of your hands gently stroking the tender underside of his wrist and the other - his swollen clit. He looks gorgeous sprawled under you, slender and long-limbed, muscles tensing under the smooth skin, flushed and breathing heavily in the afterglow, his cunt softly throbbing under your caress. 

“Well, I could have prepared something if I knew, but I guess we’ll just improvise.”

You tie his hands to the bedframe with his own cape. He can tell it’s strong enough to keep him from struggling, but not too tight to hurt or stop him if he really wanted to get free. He likes that, the binds on his wrists certainly feel good, but he’s not used to this, would hate to feel actually trapped.

You stroke his inner thighs when you spread them, press the head of your strap\cock against his entrance. He watches you slide into him, breathing heavily through parted lips, hands that tied over his head balling up in fists, but from the intensity of the feeling, not the pain.  

“See? Doesn’t it feel better when you’re fully ready and opened up for me?”

He bites his lip and gives you a deliciously wicked grin, his voice dropping almost to a purr. “Fine, I’ll admit… You win this round.”

You catch his mouth and drive your cock deeper inside, until it’s buried to the hilt, and he moans into your kiss, rises up in a shaky, shuddering wave, his knees trembling closed and falling apart again when you start slowly moving your hips.

He rarely gets drunk enough to lose control, even slightly, no matter how much he drinks, and when he does, it’s always a conscious decision, a trade-off to forget himself just for a little while, even if he fully knows he’s going to feel like shit afterwards. Now he arches into you and closes his eyes with the same feeling, but it doesn’t matter. No one takes dirty talk during sex seriously.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” he whispers against your skin, barely audible, all in one breath like taking a shot of firewhiskey, “but tell me that you want me.”

“I want you more than anyone else,” you keep gradually increasing the rhythm of your movements, drink sweet choked gasps from his lips. “I want to take you whole, everything you have,” you reach between the two of you to stroke his clit, and he shudders, his long legs circling your waist to hold you closer. You see his long fingers twitching and reach up with your free arm, cover his tied hands with your own and intertwine your fingers. His breath hitches and he clasps at your hand almost painfully hard, and just for a moment he looks truly vulnerable and raw, no games, no smokes and mirrors.

“Promise me… Tell me that even if…”

He stops himself, shuts his eyes and bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, but the helplessness and yearning in his voice already cuts you like a knife. 

“Kaeya, what is it? Tell me, what do you want?” you can feel him closing off no matter how much in your power his body is. “Anything for you, baby, just tell me.”

He comes apart, filled by you, legs tightening around your waist, fingers of his tied hands intertwined with yours, clutching hard enough to make even his tan knuckles whiten. When he’s arching in your arms, he blindly finds your neck with his mouth and lightly grazes it with his teeth, half a kiss and half a bite, leaving just a smudge of blood from his lip. Then he goes slack, his legs falling apart limply, his fingers letting go of you with a final shudder.

You slip out of him, but don’t let go, gently cup his cheek, his unsaid pleas still ringing in your ears.

“Hey, what did you want to say?”

He looks away for a moment, then meets your eyes with his usual easy smile.

“Nothing, You know how people talk gibberish when they’re close.”

Kaeya Part two

[wonjns]

holy shit yes but i feel like jake is a strong contender too i mean the amount of gay shit he has done is too much to count

he'd probably ogle when he sees a pretty/hot fanboy

° Enhypen Hyung Line Reaction to a Fanboy

notes; PLEASE BECAUSE YOU LITERALLY READ MY MIND ABOUT JAKE. i wrote this while traveling w/o any wifi before i even saw your reply so i feel like that says a lot about jakejdhdhh. ur asks literally inspired me last minute to make it a reaction for hl and it’s lowkey pretty soft 🥺 but i’m ngl i resisted a bunch from going a wild route bc thinking about jay and sunghoon was really doing me in LMAOO. i rlly didn’t mean for them to be so long tho

heeseung ; ♛

• he had to stifle a huge smile from growing on his face when he saw you. actually noticed you in his peripherals when you were a couple stops away, having your time with another member

• so naturally, his excitement and nervousness grew because he was anticipating your turn. he didn’t expect to see any boys at their fansign since it was such a rare occurrence, especially ones as cute as you

• when you were finally face to face, he couldn’t help but return your shy smile and showing his beautiful pearly whites

• he would intentionally listen to you as you told him your name and little facts about yourself while you fumbled around with your album. you would tell him how much you admired him as a performer and person, how often you watched his livestreams, etc.

• heeseung blushed at your compliments. he thanked you while signing your album and poster cards, and included his gratitude for you dealing with the mass of screaming girls and continuing to support him despite there not many other males in the crowds.

• you were surprised at how many questions he had for you, though.

• he asked you what your favorite song/album/mv was, how long you’ve been a fan, and was genuinely just interested in you. he blushed even harder and couldn’t stop giggling when you told him you actually learned one of their dances from his fancam.

• “hopefully you can show me one day” HELP&:$! he’d be so corny but so sweet.

• your were fidgeting so much with the merchandise as you spoke that heeseung acted on impulse - taking your hands into his larger and warmer ones. they were so soft,, you couldn’t believe it and could’ve sworn you grew dizzy for a moment

• you didn’t wanna leave, but when staff signaled that it was time to move on, heeseung thanked you again before you got up to move. he couldn’t bring himself to break the gaze he had on you until you were out of sight, forcing him to snap back to reality.

jay ; ♤

• his behavior would completely depend on the day.

• despite his cool, unbothered, “swagger” exterior, jay could also become quite timid in the rare occurrence of a fanboy greeting him excitedly.

• he usually gives very strong “no homo, bro” vibes, but coming face to face with you practically threw that demeanor out the window.

• an initial shock played across his face, but unluckily for you, every ounce of his boldness took over once he saw how head over heels for him you were.

• when you were enthusiastically waving as a greeting, he immediately jumped at the opportunity to close the space between your hands and took them in his.

• he did the Jay Smirk™ when he noticed your condition quickly swap from hyper to speechless; eyes glued to how his smooth, tan hands gently ran over yours.

• he asked you short-worded questions, examining you while you enthusiastically babbled drawn out answers, trying to disguise your sudden nervousness. he hadn’t even touched your album yet lmfao.

• however, what you never saw coming was his reaction when you had answered his question of who your favorite member was.

• “w-well.... you of course, hyung.”

• God his eyes almost rolled back from the boost of satisfaction he felt from hearing the nickname. this was affecting him all too much.

• jay flexed his jaw, trying to suppress his shyness from resurfacing.

• when he finally started signing your merch, you told him you watched all of his videos often, hoping to be as cool as him someday. he cocked an eyebrow at you, asking which was your favorite fancam of his. he offered a dorky smile while averting his eyes back down to signing your things when you told him your answer, him remembering he was wearing a sleeveless shirt that stage. it’s like he was getting off on your praise and adoration.

• “yeah, that is a pretty good one, isn it.”

• after you got home, you looked through your poster and noticed it read: ‘you’re already pretty cool, but keep watching my videos ;)’ . you felt feint.

jake ; ♞

• pls,, why was he more excited than you were.

• this man is so giddy you would’ve thought he was at your fan meeting.

• like his eyes were literally sparkling with amazement. you looked like the most adorable thing in your oversized enhypen hoodie. definitely the prettiest boy he’d seen in a long time, and that’s saying a lot with people like sunghoon in his group.

• you barely had time to sit down before this golden retriever excitedly grabbed your hands. you lightly blushed, but the happiness was easily reciprocated as you exchanged bright smiles during a long pause (which could’ve easily been an awkward moment, had you two not been giggling at each other the whole time.)

• “we don’t get to see many of our guy fans, are you enjoying yourself today?” he sincerely asked, hoping you didn’t feel uncomfortable at all.

• you put his worries to ease when you explained how much fun you were having, and how every effort was worth it now that you got to meet him in person.

• he continued to make small talk with you, complimenting you everywhere from your features to your clothes while his eager thumbs traced shapes into the back of your hands.

• this caused you to chuckle even more, the sound of your voice sending him into the clouds. you had to have been the cutest thing he saw that day, and he had to fight his primal instincts of just reaching across the table and placing you in his lap to smother you with affection.

• jake reluctantly pulled his hands away from yours to grab a sharpie and sign your merchandise.

• he signed it: “To: Y/N-ie”, shamelessly scribbling hearts all around your name & drawing winky faces anywhere he found necessary. you wondered how he felt so comfortable showing no form of restraint whatsoever.

sunghoon ; ♢

• FLIRTTT. flirt.

• he flirts.

• hoon would be so insufferable oh my god. he knows his power and abuses it.

• from the minute you shyly sat down infront of him, he knew he was your favorite. he could probably tell from the way you were gawking at him and sparing awkward glances around the room - but could anyone blame you?? he’s gorgeous.

• the way the light was hitting his platinum hair, the valleys of his ever-growing biceps, his gorgeous dark eyes twinkling at you with expectation.... you were practically putty. he already looked stunning on your phone screen, but in person it was like he unlocked a whole new level of fine.

• he smirked while greeting you, being the first to speak up (something he usually didn’t have to do, but the sight of you immediately put him into a teasing mood).

• “i always say all engene are pretty, but it’s nice to know we have such handsome fan boys, too.”

• you almost melted on the spot. when you finally managed to lock and maintain eye contact with him, he slowly ran his fingers through his hair. he even seemed to “casually” flex his new found muscles while doing so. what a dick.

• he cocked his head to the side knowingly when you began stuttering because of the sight before you, playing with your own fingers in order to make yourself concentrate.

• sunghoon chuckled before reaching out and gently nudging your fiddling hands away from your album, pulling it towards him to sign. you could feel his fleeting touch linger on your hands even long after he retracted them.

• afterwards, he encased both of your hands in his, asking you if had anything to eat that day. his sharp canines only became more visible when he grinned after you explained you skipped lunch to get there as early as possible.

• “i hope you come see me again,” he commented lowly with a wink whenever it was time to move on, making an undisguisable blush creep on your face.

• he was reveling in how flustered you were, loving that he had this effect on more than just girls.

sunoo ; ♡

• boyyyy he was so relieved, and his aura even seemed immediately relaxed when you sat down. the atmosphere suddenly shifted from fan-meeting-idol to two buddies just getting together for a lunch date.

• he smiled brightly at you with his adorable puffy cheeks, enamored with your style right away - not wasting a second in complimenting you.

• he was talking to you so casually pls, his facial expressions fluctuating all sorts of ways as he spoke. he really did just need a gossip buddy. he even covered his mouth whispering as he made certain comments, being hyper-aware of the cameras that were surely recording him that very moment.

• “i love all our fans ofc, but some of them can just be so extra sometimes.”

• please he’s so shadyhfhdhdg

• you know this vid of seohyun and hyoyeon? yea that’s y’all.

• sunoo finds it pretty rare when he sees another boy that rivals his cuteness, so it’s no wonder he took a liking to you immediately.

• when you would talk about your favorite songs or members, he would hum along but wouldn’t hesitate for a second to sassily disagree with you on certain topics.

• “really, that was your favorite stage? i don’t know, i feel like niki was trying too hard. and i hated our styling.” before you mutually erupted in endless giggles

• ugh truly just best friend vibes like you guys would be kekeing so much (probably talking shit about everyone else in the room) within those few short minutes.

• “you think i’m the funniest member? i’m glad i found someone that finally agrees”.

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

Since your requests are open i shall throw my brain rot at you <3

Slightly mean(bc he is a tease and is having the time of his life bc of the current scene in front of him) Kaeya that watches his virgin s/o try to fit him inside but she fails ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

And finally after some time he agrees to help out.

(uh also if u are accepting anons, may i be the ⚠️ anon?)

Pairing - Kaeya x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Degradation kink, praise kink?, very slight dollification

Word count - 1.7k

Other comments - Dude your Kaeya brainrot is always welcome here I love him. You’re so smart, mean kaeya is next level. And of course everyone welcome ⚠️ anon! Also this one is a little shorter, i just wasnt in the mood to write the build up i just wanted s e x

Your body was hypersensitive with nerves. It was your first time so of course you would be anxious about this whole situation. What wasn’t helping was your boyfriend's relentless teasing. It was aggravating and embarrassing, but part of your body was getting off to it as well; your body getting even more sensitive as time passed.

Right now, you were trying desperately to ride Kaeya, but he was just way too big and you didn’t know what you were doing so nothing was going well on your end. Kaeya on the other hand was having the time of his life watching you struggle.

“God if you hadn’t told me you were a virgin, I’d have never known seeing as how you're whining like a little slut right now cause you can’t ride me.” You shot your boyfriend a glare. God you just wanted to shut him up.

“Watching you struggle like this is quite amusing my dear… Maybe I’ll just sit here and force you to keep trying. You're destined to get it right at some point hm?” You heard him chuckle as you groaned out. There was a feeling that was beginning to bloom deep within you. You couldn’t quite name the feeling but all you knew was that you needed Kaeya’s help and you needed it now.

“Please Kaeya. This is driving me crazy. I need you Kaeya.” There was a needy rasp in your voice that made his only exposed pupil blow wide. There was a low rumble in his chest that only made this feeling intensify. You didn’t know what you had done, but you knew you weren’t going to regret it.

In less than a second there was a punishing grip on your hips, Kaeya’s long slender fingers holding so much strength in the iron grasp he had on you. Effortlessly Kaeya had you hovering over his pulsing cock. You whimpered in anticipation.

“Such a pathetic useless slut, always in need of my assistance. Hold yourself up like this so I can line myself up. You’re competent to be able to do as simple of a task as that right?” You nodded quickly, biting your lower lip instinctively out of mild anxiety. Once again, despite it all, this is still your first time. Your position did not waiver when Kaeya pulled away one of his hands. You could still feel the imprint of where it was on your hip.

“You’re okay right (y/n)? We’ll take this first part slow so as to not hurt you too much. This isn’t going to be amazing at first but just trust me it’ll get better. Then we can get back to having real fun.” The change in Kaeya’s whole tone and demeanor gave you whiplash; a stark contrast to the dark look he held only moments ago when degrading you. Instead he held a warm, almost concerned and genuine look on his face.

You took this moment to really admire him. The way his dark blue hair fell over him, shining in the pale light of your lamps next to the bed. Your breath never ceased to be taken away when you looked at him like this, cherishing the way his tanned skin contrasted the shining pale blue eye he had exposed. You guessed you had been staring at him for a little too long, with the way his expression started leaning more towards concern than anything.

“I always trust you Kaeya, this time is no different than the others.” A gentle smile formed on both of your faces. There were no words for how much you guys trusted each other, having this unexplainable bond. Somehow you both knew more about each other than yourselves.

Kaeya nodded before he nudged the hand that was still on your hip down, signaling for you to start lowering yourself. There was still an unease in the pit of your stomach, but it was much less noticeable now. You jumped slightly when you felt the tip of Kaeya’s dick intrude, causing him to chuckle quietly and begin rubbing comforting circles into your hip. You continued down, wincing as you felt yourself begin the stretch around him. It ached, and Kaeya was right, this certainly did not feel amazing, but you trusted him. After a few more painstakingly long moments of lowering yourself, you were fully seated on his lap. You could feel every pulse and twitch of his cock, and slowly the pain began to fade; leaving a burned need to feel more in its wake.

You squirmed on his lap, not trusting yourself to talk at the moment, in fear of saying or making some abhorrent noise. Kaeya’s punishing grip returned, holding you still on his lap.

“That didn’t take very long. Are you sure this is your first time? You’re really acting like a slut now.” The antagonizing tone returned to Kaeya’s voice, and it was really affecting you now. You desperately needed him to move. You let out a whimper as you futilely tried wiggling around in his grasp. A dark smirk graced his face as he tightened his grip even more.

“What was that my slut? What do you need? How am I possibly to know what you need if you don’t tell me. I’m not a mind reader darling.” You groaned, your face lighting up red with embarrassment with the knowledge that you were indeed going to have to beg this man to move.

“Kaeya…. I need you….to move please. I need to feel you in me. Please Kaeya help me.” You saw that familiar darkening on Kaeya’s face that made you melt, and an ache began deep within you.

“Your wish is my command, my beloved.” Before anything else could be exchanged, Kaeya hoisted you up until only the tip was still inside you then almost dropped you back down. You repeated this motion over and over and you let out loud moans and cries.

“That’s right. You’re my whore. I’m the only one that ever gets to see you this way or make you this way. Let everyone know who you belong to. Who exactly is making you whine like a bitch.” You cried out at a particularly hard and direct thrust into that one special spot that made you see stars.

“Say my name you little whore, say it out loud so we can all know whos fucking you this well.” You cried out once again, your moans being interrupted with the loud gasps of his name on your lips. You chanted his name like a prayer to the Archons above. In this moment, he was your archon, your divine being who you followed with unwavering devotion. What else were you to think when he was bringing you such pleasure.

“That’s it my darling. Even though your only use is being my fucktoy you are such a good one. You just keep sucking me in so well, this feeling is addicting.” You moaned out louder at the words he was throwing at you. Only moments later your legs began getting very tired from the constant up and down. You placed your hands on his toned chest as you began slumping over, not being lifted up quite as easily.

Suddenly you felt yourself being tipped over before Kaeya quickly pulled out, rolled you onto your back and caged you in with his strong arms on either side of your head. Without warning he thrusted himself in again, much easier this time.

“We haven’t even been doing this for very long and you already seemed so fucked out. Of course I shouldn’t be very surprised seeing how pathetic you are.” You could feel tears beginning to fall from your eyes from the pleasure that was wracking through your body. The tears only egged Kaeya on, as his thrusts became even harder. You could sense how sore you were going to be, you might have to stay home tomorrow. Kaeya began to let out strained grunts and groans, gritting his teeth in pleasure. He could feel the way you were squeezing him, and how you were about to fall over the edge any second now. He needed to ruin you.

The tears began to fall faster the closer you got to the end, a huge knot threatening to break in your core. After only two more targeted thrusted your back arched off the bed, smashing into Kaeya’s torso above you as you screamed out his name along with a few other profanities. Your vision flashed white as the feeling of your orgasm crashed over you like unrelenting waves in the sea.

Your cries quieted down as you slumped down onto the bed trembling, tears staining your deep crimson cheeks. Kaeya had grown much louder over those few moments and before long we was shoving his throbbing cock as far as he could get it and cumming. His orgasm took him by storm, nothing ever feeling that incredible before. The noise he made as his body shook above you and his sweaty forehead fell into the crook of your neck only made you tremble more. Before too long Kaeya gently pulled his softening dick out of you and slumped down onto the bed next to you. You were immediately pulled into him as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. This skin to skin contact filled you with the fuzziest feeling in the world as you snuggled as deep as you could into him.

You guys stayed in silence, the only sound being the rhythmic breathing of the two of you. You were both tangled in each other’s bodies before you quietly heard Kaeya mumble a soft ‘I love you’. You smiled and kissed his chest, not having the energy or willpower to speak. Not long after the two of you were lulled into the deepest, most peaceful sleep of your lives.

[bellaramseysgf]

Bless bless us with a little drabble from housewife universe please I literally cannot get that fic out of my head 😩

Pls don’t stop bc I will gladly write Drabbles abt this universe for the rest of my time. Seriously. I’m figuring out what’s gonna happen in chapter 3 as we speak babies🥰

But for the time being, what if….what if we go back to the first time you met Marc & Jake? Bc this sounds fun.

Steven was laid on top of you kisses slowly being placed down your stomach bringing his lips closer to your heat, where you needed him the most. All at once his body tensed up and his eyes shut as his body shook, almost trembled. You sat up a bit on the couch the two of you were laid on. “Stevie? You alright?” You asked.

Steven lifted his head but something about him looked different, his eyes seemed darker as the looked at you. His whole demeanor had shifted and you didn’t know if it was because of you.

“Baby?” You asked reaching your hand out to touch his face before he grabbed your wrist.

Marc was fronting, marc knew exactly who you were and exactly what the two of you were doing. He decided to ignore the excessive pounding of Steven in his head. He knew that you saw something off immediately.

“Steven?…” you slid up to sit up more not trusting whatever switch was turned. “You know, out of all the times I’ve forced control this has gotta be my favorite” Marc chuckled. You were laid under him, shirt discarded in the floor, pretty red lace covered your chest your navel speckled with purple marks, shorts unbuttoned enough he could see the matching red lace that covered your core.

“What..?” You asked pulling your wrist from him “don’t worry, I’m not a bad guy, swear” you stared up at him fear in your eyes.

Here’s the thing, you knew about Stevens alters,knew they existed. You didn’t know their names, you didn’t even know what they acted like. 8 months of this relationship and you’d never met them not once. You were too far gone in sleep to meet them when they’d come out at night.

“You really are the most beautiful thing…” Marc sighed eyes raking over your figure once more, all you could do was flush cheeks turning pink. “Which one are you?” You asked and Marc scoffed “really? He doesn’t even bother to say our names.” You smiled a bit at him sending Marc’s heart into a flip.

“I..I’m y/n” you said sitting up more only to be drug back down under him with a squeal. “No, I know that. You’re Stevens little fiancé” you nodded. “I can see why, fucking perfect little housewife you are.” Marc licked over his bottom lip. “You’ll learn just how fun we can be love, I assure I-” his body tensed again and you felt worry fill you. Was it normal for them to switch so easily? So quickly? You’d never seen it before, then again you hadn’t known someone with D.I.D before.

“Fuck, Pequeños hijos de puta molestos” ‘Annoying little motherfuckers’ it was interesting watching their demeanor and voice shift with each change. “Hello..” you said and it was as if Jake had finally reeled in exactly where he was. “Oh, hello Princessa” you blinked up at him. “you..you are?” You stumbled staring into the darkness of his eyes. “Jake.” He said blankly and you smiled. “Hello Jake” you said sweetly.

Jakes throat went dry with the sound of your voice and his name mixed together. He finally took you in and chuckled “Did I interrupt?” He asked voice soft “Little bit..” you said with a giggle. “My bad,let me help” the kissing resumed and you sighed softly knowing you’d enjoy that night.

Thank google for translation I don’t know much Spanish🥲

[ohworm-writes]

hello! :) so u know how kuon has a crush on sniper right ? can i get an imagine where reader is jealous bc of kuon, cuz u know, her crush on sniper etc etc (sorry i'm just vv lazy at typing), and how sniper reacts to it ?? can u make it like they're still friends but have mutual feelings for each other as they hang out as a unit, and they get together in the end bc sum confessions happened !! sorry if u don't get it i'm rlly bad at explaining but thank u in advance if u do this !! <33

High-Rise Invasion/Tenkuu Shinpan: Sniper Mask Boyfriend Imagine

high-rise invasion/tenkuu shinpan masterlist

‼ Jealous Reader (over Kuon) + Make up + Confession ‼

Featuring: Sniper Mask, Yuri Honjo, Mayuko Nise (implied), Kuon Shinzaki (implied)

Warnings: frustrated Y/n, crushes, jealousy

a/n - good GODS this has been in my inbox for a while and i’m so so so sorry for not posting it way sooner! hopefully you see this anon, and i hope you enjoy!

content below the cut!

you had developed a crush on the man in the mask ever since you first joined Yuri's little group

you couldn't really tell what it was the drew you to him

he was silent, dismissive, and he was a Mask for goodness sake!

but none of that deterred you from the attraction you garnered for him

you always found yourself trying to interact with him

whether it was offering your help with something that he was doing, or simply keeping him company

most times he brushed you off, walking away and not giving you an answer

other times he silently accepted your offer

those times the two of you would sit in comfortable silence, just enjoying one another's presence

you cherish moments like these for a very specific reason

Kuon

now you had nothing against the girl!

... at first

she seemed nice enough, always eager to help, and full of ignorant innocence

but then you realized her (very obvious) crush on the masked man

the way she got flustered around him so easily

the way she clung to him like a lost child

at first, you thought maybe she saw him as a parental figure, seeing how young she was

but that thought was (very) quickly thrown to the wind when you saw her wrapped up in his jacket, blushing like the schoolgirl she was and giggling to herself

so what she liked him? you liked him too, maybe the two of you could bond over that!

that's what you told yourself

of course, you never acted on it

it was simple, you were too jealous to do so

you noticed how Sniper Mask welcomed all her little instances without a care in the world

not giving a damn when she clung to him

or batting an eye at her obvious fangirling

it pissed you off

naturally, you began to avoid Kuon

and Sniper Mask simultaneously

you avoided the two of them whenever you could

when you saw them walking towards you, you kept to the opposite side of the wall and walked quickly past them

when you all usually ate together, you picked up your food and ate outside

you were simply, undeniably jealous

you didn't think Sniper Mask cared about it, not that you could tell under his mask

but in actuality, he was confused as to why you avoided him all of the sudden

so, he opted to ask you one day

You shut the door to the dining room rather aggressively as you exited, but you couldn't care less. You let your body slump against the adjacent wall, your plate of food resting on your lap.

Today had been... exhausting, to say the least. Kuon was on her usual actions of pining over 'Mr. Mask', crossing your way a few more times than you would have liked. During your meeting earlier with her and Yuri, your fellow mouthless masked allies, she had the gall to talk on and on about how much she adored him.

You hated it.

You looked down at your food, a scowl finding its place on your features. You glared at it, pushing the pieces around with your fork, not noticing a door open and close right in front of you.

"Jesus, if that food was alive, it would be 6 feet under with the glare you're giving it." You hear a gruff voice call from in front of you. A voice you would rather not be hearing right now.

You continue to move around the food, staying silent as the man awkwardly stands in front of you, unsure of what to do with himself in this situation. "Is it, uh, okay if I sit here?" He asks, which finally makes you look up.

He had a plate of food between his own hands, his jacket gone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His mask covered his face, per usual, but it seemed much more lopsided than usual.

You give him a shrug in response, looking back down at your food again. He stands there for a moment, before taking a seat right next to you, your knees almost touching. "You don't mind if I eat with you, right?"

His question makes your eye twitch. Was he seriously trying to be all buddy-buddy with you now? You shrugged again, not giving him as much as a single word.

You heard him sigh, setting his food to the side before he speaks again. "Alright, what's going on?" He asks, making your body tense up. "Nothing." You shoot back, scowling.

"What happened to the Y/n that stayed up and talked about their life for hours? What happened to the Y/n that told me horrible jokes to try and get a reaction out of me? Huh? What happened to them?"

That broke you.

You were angry, furious even. Was he trying to blame this on you? You didn't do anything wrong! If it wasn't for Kuon, maybe you would still be that person! If it wasn't for her, you could still be friends with him! You could be-

"What?" You hear him say softly, much softer than his previous tone. Shit, did you say that out loud? "Yeah, you did." He says again, looking at you with a concerned expression on his face, not that you could tell.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash out. I just- I’ve been-" You stutter, trying to find the right words. He laughs at that, actually laughs at it.

His laugh is hearty, warm, almost inviting you to laugh along with him. You don't, but he quickly composes himself, making your head turn towards him.

"Why on Earth were you jealous of Kuon?" He asks honestly, watching at how the invisible gears turn in your head, searching for an answer. You sigh heavily, running a hand across your face as you shake your hands while you speak.

"I just- she’s always there with you. She's latched onto you 24/7! I can't get 5 minutes alone with you before she comes barging in." You rant, frustration evident in your shaky voice.

"I just wanted to be your friend, be close with you. I can never do that because she's-she's there." You groan, hugging yourself with your arms. "I sound like a selfish idiot now, huh?"

You laugh dryly, frowning. He sighs, but a smile plays at his lips. "Y/n." He begins, his hand resting you your forearm. "You know she would never purposefully do that. She just, she has an infatuation with me I guess."

He sighs dramatically, earning a chuckle from you. "But." He tells you, watching your eyes as he speaks. "That doesn't mean I didn't miss you."

Your heart skips a beat at his comment, face flushing softly. "Kuon also misses you. You might not have caught onto it, but she looks up to you." He explains, smiling at how your expression softens, mumbling a soft 'she does?' to him.

He nods, laughing once more. "Come on, have dinner with the rest of us. We can't have you sitting alone out here anymore." You roll your eyes, but take him up on his word. He leads you back to the other, Kuon frantically waving over to the two of you the second you pass through the door.

"Y/n! Come sit with me!" She yells excitedly. Maybe you were wrong about her.

after that interaction, the three of you were all on much better terms

yes, kuon still had her habits, but he toned them WAY down after you explained to her how it made you feel

she teased the hell out of you for it too

you, of course, shrugged it off

but you never told her that she was wrong

you were happy to be on good terms with Sniper Mask again

he made a lot more time for you

your old interactions coming back at full force, and some new ones

he loved to take you on little walks on the high rises

he also made it a point to teach you how to shoot his rifle

which was terrifying, but exhilarating

you fell for him harder and harder every day

one day, you ranted your feelings out to Kuon

and while she wasn't surprised, it warmed her heart to see how much you loved him

yes, she crushed on him too, but that didn't take away from the obvious connection she saw between the two of you

unbeknownst to you, Sniper Mask had come to her about the same things

his usually cold demeanor broke whenever he talked with you

he genuinely enjoyed your company, he wanted more of it

and then some

so, she put a plan together

operation "get Mr. Mask and Y/n together" is a go!

she took it all very seriously

making sure you guys get paired together for scouting missions? that's all her

convincing Sniper Mask to get you little gifts and things? of course

overall, the best wing-woman you could ask for

however, the one thing she didn't have anything to do with was his confession to you

he could have used her help with it, that much was clear

but he wanted to tell you how he felt, no help necessary

Sniper Mask had told you earlier this morning to meet you at his room when the sunset before he rushed to get out of your vicinity like you were a plague. Granted, it hurt your feelings, but you couldn't stand him up.

You knocked gently on the wooden door, stepping back and waiting patiently for it to open. After about a minute, while you had heard nothing, you went to knock again.

Your efforts were proved useless as the door swung open hastily, revealing a disheveled Sniper Mask. His usual blazer and fedora were long forgotten, his hair messy, strands pointing this way and that. His mask sat lopsided on his face, still covering it fully.

"H-hey Y/n." He mumbled out, you offered him a wave as he awkwardly shuffled to the side, opening the door as an incentive for you to come in. You stepped inside, walking to the center of the room as you heard him close the door behind you.

You turned to speak to him again, but those thoughts were cast aside as you felt his hands settle onto your cheeks and his lips molding with yours. It startled you, you're eyes open in shock as you looked at him. His mask was completely off, thrown somewhere in the room, but he didn't seem to have a care in the world.

You quickly melted into the kiss, bringing your hands up to gently hold onto his forearms. He hummed, taking a moment before pulling away, leaving the two of you to gasp for air as he rested his forehead against yours. You opened your eyes to meet his, full of adoration.

"I, uh, I think I'm in love with you?" It was more of a question, but you took it happily. You laughed softly, your fingers rubbing small circles in his forearms.

"Was that what that was?"

[dainty-fingertips]

a forever thing. ||kars x fem! reader

wrote this one a few weeks ago bc a friend said i should write something with kars,, ended up being too long and i don’t think she ever finished reading it;; also, spoilers for if you haven’t finished battle tendency !!

word count: 2233

summary: training alongside caesar and joseph, you end up being kidnapped by the remaining two pillar men after the death of esidisi. a closet bookworm, you end up spending most of your time cooped up in the library of the rundown hotel, though most of your time is spent thinking of the leader himself. after kars drops some undeniable hints, you decide to test the waters.

trigger warnings: none :)

||

          Being taken for a sort of ransom by aztec gods wasn’t exactly on the agenda today. 

          After Joseph had killed Esidisi, the remaining two were -- as expected -- on edge. Wamuu, the youngest, and Kars, the eldest. You could grasp a fleeting understanding on why they chose you specifically, but nothing enough to make complete sense in your brain. It could have been Caesar, it could have been Lisa Lisa, but no. As of now, they were treating you quite well, actually. You figured Wamuu was the only reason you weren’t bound by rope and eating out of a dog bowl right now. Instead, you were perched upon a plush reading chair in a rundown library, clad in a comfortable robe (thanks to Wamuu, you weren’t stuck in your sweaty outfit from before). You had planned on touring to Switzerland one day after the war, but being trapped inside a rundown hotel with no real access to vitamin D was really taxing your health (mentally and physically) and never intended to be something you spent your time doing while here.

          In your rough-skinned hands, you held a worn copy of In Search of Lost Time. Your reading comprehension had improved over the past few weeks, at least. A rough knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. “I’m here.” You said calmly, hoping it was the younger Pillar Man. Of course your desires were not met. Kars stepped into the library, his headscarf absorbing some of the light from the candle lit on the table next to you. He eyed you in what appeared to be mild distaste. “Why are you awake?” You looked up from the book with an odd expression. “What do you mean?” You asked him. The god huffed softly, motioning to the boards on the windows. “The sun has gone down. Are you not tired?” You pulled your gaze over to the covered windows. “...Oh.”

          You had failed to notice the absence of flittering rays much earlier. “Wait, what time is it?” You mumbled to yourself. You looked at the grandfather clock on the wall to your right and your expression dropped. “It’s 1 am.” he mumbled, crossing his arms. You pursed your lips and quietly closed the book. You uncrossed your legs and set it back on the shelf. Kars watched you slowly make your way back and forth. “What about you?” You asked, wrapping your fingers around the candle tray. He stared at you. Were you asking why he was up? “What do you mean?” He asked with a sigh. “You’re still up, but you aren’t tired.” You stated while approaching him. He didn’t move. “I’ve told you this. Neither me nor Wamuu need sleep, human. Es-” He stopped himself mid sentence and his cold expression seemed to falter for only a moment. You had learned, in your three weeks here, that the pillar men deemed it inappropriate to show emotion to anyone other than family members or mates. 

          Kars had never slipped up around you before. 

          The gears in your brain began turning. Kars wouldn’t show something like that to Wammu even, at least that’s what you’d been told. Why, even if for a split second, would he let you see that? Did he see you as someone close? The mere idea was laughable. Kars’ cold exterior soon returned, though. Simply brushing aside the sight, you continued to listen to him. “Esidisi didn’t need sleep, either.” He continued, his voice almost strained. Was Kars trying to hide his pain? You looked at him with soft eyes. Kars seemed to get minorly flustered and removed his gaze from you.

          You sighed gently and gazed cautiously into his blooming red eyes, the simple sight of them making your stomach twirl a bit. He made you feel floaty when he looked at you. Your cheeks flushed and you looked away. You saw in your hazy peripheral that he had furrowed an eyebrow. “What?” He asked hesitantly, looking back at you. “Hm?” You couldn’t look back at him. “I was just wondering about something, that’s all.” You begged that the bluff worked on him, but you knew that Kars was smart. He didn’t respond for a few seconds, his eyes flickering across your face and body, looking for a hint of something in your body language. 

          He sighed and motioned for you to follow him. You stood there and glanced at him curiously, his back turned and footsteps echoing. He turned his head to look at you. “I’m taking you to your chambers. Come.” He said with a bored expression. “O-Oh, right.” You whispered. You jogged up to him, but slowed your pace once you were next to him. “What was it?” He asked. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him without moving your head. “What?” He sighed through his nose. “You said you were wondering about something.” Your mouth opened to the shape of an O. “Right. I was just curious, uh, Kars. Do you think you could sleep if you tried?” You queered hesitantly, avoiding your original thought of Kars’ sadness. You looked back ahead of you. Kars gazed to his right, thinking. “An odd question, human. Why do you ask?” You shrugged slightly. “I dunno. Curiosity, I guess.” Kars aired out a small ‘hm.’ and inhaled sharply.

          “Curiosity is a dangerous fault in humans. No matter how long I sleep, that will forever remain a constant.” You cocked your head to the side a bit, working up the courage to turn to him as you both walked. “What do you mean?” He looked down at you, a strand of his hair tufting out slightly. “It’s what got that damned Joestar wrapped into this mess. If not for him, we wouldn’t need to deal with this. Our mission would be far less… complicated.” You nodded your head. “And that’s been a forever-thing?” He squinted his eyes. “A what?” 

          “Well, that’s what my dad used to call it.” You said with a gentle chuckle. “Y’know, a forever-thing. Something that’s been around for forever. Literally and figuratively.” 

          “A forever-thing?” He pressed.

          “Mhm.”

          “Humans and their idiotic names for simple terms.” he spat.

          “Oh really?”

           He scoffed. “Yes.”

          “Then what would you call it?” You joked, putting a playfully heavy emphasis on your words. Kars groaned, but deep inside his old bones, he felt something. He could admire beauty when he saw it, especially for a human, but this was getting out of hand. You were completely oblivious to the fact that Kars had taken an especial liking to you, which he was grateful for. His cold demeanor felt almost immoral around you. You were similar to that Joestar boy, but you were somehow more tangible. He could… stand you, sure, but he didn’t know why. He had been surrounded by nothing but cold glares and serious attitudes his whole life, and he magnified it in the way he lived. It’s what earned him the highest rank in what now remained of the tribes, being merely him and Wamuu. 

          Though, having you around was a strangely acceptable change of tone. He began finding himself seeking out your attention, like 10 minutes ago. You weren’t in your bed, so he came looking for you where you normally sat; the library. You were propped in that chair, now claimed as yours, with your knees to your chest and a book in your hands. You seemed almost magnetizing, you seemed almost… well, he wasn’t sure. He’d never felt this way. Why did you grab his attention? You held him in your fingers like putty, rubbing him in all the right ways. Maybe, because of you, his opinion on the human species wouldn’t be so dire. Maybe, in your toothy grins, your glittering eyes, and your gentle hands,  you would change his mind. 

          Only then, did he realize you had taken his hand in yours.

          He quickly pulled it away. “Don’t touch me.” He spat, eyeing you. You chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry, force of habit. Whenever my dad was deep in thought, I’d grab his hand to pull him back to Earth.” Kars scoffed, rubbing his hand as though trying to get the feeling of your rough hands off of him. They were hard and calloused from training, he presumed, though it added to his simple adoration. He had never met a woman like this. His eyes lingered back to your hands for a moment before looking back ahead. “Well, I’m not your father.” You simply smiled ahead and didn’t respond.

          Kars let his hands fall to his sides and the two of you make it up the set of stairs to your room. The door sat closed, and you looked at Kars. “Would you mind, Kars, if I told you something?” You questioned casually, entering your room and looking at him from the inside. He nodded once and silently asked you to continue. Your face grew warm and you looked to the side, unable to look at him for a moment. “You…” You began, unsure how to tell him. He raised an eyebrow. “I what?” He said. You knew he was an impatient man when it came to things like this; you had heard it from Wamuu whenever he’d bring you food. “Spit it out.” You sighed and looked at him, your gaze wavering and nervous. “You aren’t half bad, Kars.” You said with an awkward tone of voice. You knew you were treading on thin ice, but you didn’t know when you’d actually be able to tell him alone.

          Kars’ stance was unmoved. The meaning behind your words didn’t fully strike him until after the two of you silently stared at each other for 20 seconds. His face, twisted in mild confusion, soon loosened up. Realization clubbed him like a wooden baseball bat behind his knees. His maroon eyes darted across your face and his lips parted slightly. “What -- What are you saying?” He said quietly. He was sure his brain was playing tricks, but your face, it seemed so fearfully genuine. Sweat accumulated on the back of his neck in his headscarf. Kars was a god; the most powerful pillar man. He was above this. Why did… Why did it feel wrong to act that way around you? Why did he feel almost guilty when he acted superior?

          You stood motionless. “I mean, y’know. I enjoy… your… your company.” You stumbled over her words. Were you being intimate with him? He’d never seen this side of you. You noticed Kars slipping up on his own standards again, as well. His surprised emotions were clear as day, etched cleanly into his chiseled features. His fangs poked out onto his lower lip, a simple protrusion which you had wished you didn't find cute. You genuinely thought that Kars was attractive.

          Then again, who wouldn’t? He stood tall, around 6’8”. He towered over most all he came in contact with, but that was simply second nature to you now. You were used to craning your neck to get a better look at those blood-red eyes that almost seemed to despise you. A dark loft of his hair would make its cameo every now and again. He’d always get flustered whenever you’d mention it, telling you that he didn’t need the approval of a human. He’d then, a minute or so later, slyly tuck it back in. It’s not that he didn’t know, of course; it’s just that he only cared enough about it if you took the time to tell him.

          Wamuu had noticed his growing infatuation with you and the thought brought him a smile. After sitting down with Kars and listening to him do nothing but wax poetic about you earlier tonight, he told him to go find you. Maybe take a walk with you, if he felt like it. Kars kindly took up the offer; it seemed you had humbled him in that department, too. Normally he wouldn’t bother taking anyone’s advice, but here he was. Pulling him from the crevasse of his rushing brain was your hand, humbly wrapping your fingers around his.

          Kars stared at his hands, fingers being separated by your own, in blatant shock. “You aren’t as bad as I thought you’d be.” You whispered, barely audible to him. He locked eyes with you and without thinking, going against everything he’d ever stood for in the past, he curled his fingers around yours as well. You smiled softly and looked down, avoiding his gaze. Kars’ lips pulled back together, his lips twitching, desperately wanting to smile. “I suppose.” He said hesitantly. “Why are you being nice to me?” He soon asked, turning his gaze back to your face.

          He pulled his hand away, taking a step back. “I…” You murmured, retracting your hand as well. He looked between his fingers as though he’d touched gold, small glittering remnants still freckled along his palm. “I don’t know.” you finished with a heavy sigh. He closed his hand into a fist and looked at you with nervous confidence. “Well, if there’s nothing more, then I will take my leave.” He said quickly, nearly stuttering his words. He turned on his heel and began going the way he came. You gazed at his back as he swiftly left the hallway and sighed in disbelief. You had just grabbed his hand.

          Kars, it seemed, had fallen in love with the enemy.

          The enemy, it seemed, had felt exactly the same.

[xsamsharons]

hi! if youre up to it could you please write abt what i'd be like to meet nikolai for the first time and then later find out he's your soulmate. basically just soulmate!au headcanons.

thank you - i cant wait to see what you come up with. btw love your work so much:)

summary: headcanons about being nikolai's soulmate.

pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader.

genre/warning: just fluff

a/n: hey love !! i decided to make this a modern!au but let me know if you want me to redo it and have it set in the grishaverse.

ok so

i wholeheartedly believe that nikolai's personality would only be amplified in a modern setting.

you thought he was cocky before? wait til u see his instagram.

you thought he was obnoxious? wait til you see the person he becomes when he hears toxic by britney spears.

you thought sturmhond was a bit of a pretentious alias? wait til he starts saying he sees himself in young bill from mamma mia: here we go again.

you get the point.

so i feel like unless you've known him ever since you were little

you probably wouldn't get along with him at first.

let's say you meet him bc you're friends with alina and she introduces you at her birthday party

so the first impression of nikolai you have is one of a drunk nikolai

which is a thousand times worse

so you immediatly dislike him

and then your friendgroup (the crows) merges with his friendgroup (tgt)

so you're forced to spend more time with this rich guy who you consider arrogant, loud and annoying. and extremely fucking cute

so it's safe to say you aren't pleased.

specially when he starts to flirt with you every chance he gets.

"are you sure we don't have any classes together? cause i could've sworn we had chemistry."

and a bunch of stupid pick up lines that he is aware won't work, he just says them cause he knows it annoys you.

but then one day you find him helping a stray injured cat (or a dog, whatever you are into) on the street when you're walking home

and while you consider just avoiding him, you decide against it just because he looks like he has no idea of what to do with a hurt kitten

so you walk up to him and offer to help him take the cat to a vet to patch them up

and that's the turning point.

he decides to adopt the stray cat after you leave the vet, and he calls him (it's a he) "emerald"

which you think sounds ridiculous but don't comment on it.

and you spend all day together:

helping him buy the supplies needed to raise a cat,

stopping at a coffee shop on the way to his apartment,

spending the afternoon playing with emerald and nikolai in their living room, etc.

but the day comes to and end way too soon for your liking

because, to your surprise, you were actually enjoying your time with him

and before he walks you to the door, he decides to take off the, in your opinion, unnecessary amount of jewelry he wears

which is when you see it:

the mark on his neck that was usually covered by the amount of chains he wears around it

a mark that wouldn't be that big of a deal, if it didn't match the one you have on your own neck.

so you freeze

and he notices.

"what's wrong?" he asks after noticing your wide eyed expression and change of demeanor.

a question to which you only reply with a hand movement that vaguely moves in the direction of his neck, and then towards your own.

and he connects the dots.

"the mark?" he asks, and you nod. "you hadn't noticed?"

"you had?"

"why did you think i was flirting with you all the time?" he laughed

"i don't know!" you defended, feeling a bit stupid for not noticing. "because it annoyed me?" you offered.

"i will admit your reactions were a little hilarious, but i wouldn't have wasted my time if i knew you weren't interested."

"well, technically, i wasn't." you defended again.

"and, technically, this is the universe's way of telling you that you're full of shit" he winked.

and from then on, you two only got closer.

visiting him and emerald became a daily thing.

and hanging out one on one without all of your friends became a normal occurrence.

you started to laugh at his jokes, flirt back with him when he delivered a stupid pick up line, and sing britney spears with him when one of her songs came on the radio.

but you still hadn't kissed, and it was driving you kind of insane.

did he not want to? was he disappointed you were his soulmate? was he waiting for something?

because it had been weeks since you found out about him being your soulmate.

and it had been weeks of spending every minute together.

but he still hadn't kissed you, and it's not like he was a shy person by any stretch.

so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

and what better day than one when you were having ice cream by the beach while watching the sun set over the horizon.

and the sun was shining just right on his hazel eyes

and casting an orange hue around his blonde hair

and shit, he real was breathtaking, wasn't he?

he turned around to face you with a soft smile on his face when he noticed your staring.

and found you looking at him with a smile that mirrored his own.

and a look in your eyes that he couldn't quite place.

"can i kiss you?" you asked him, your voice barely above a whisper.

he smile widened as he nodded, and that was all the confirmation you needed to lean in and finally press your lips against his.

and jesus christ, did it feel good.

his lips felt like the only reason you had been put on this earth was to kiss them.

and the smile that lit up his face once he pulled away made you feel like you were a little kid with a crush on a cartoon you saw on tv again.

you smiled back at him, and punched his arm softly after a moment.

"what was that for?" he complained, rubbing his arm softly with a pout on his lips.

"why didn't you do that sooner?" you asked him.

"that good, huh?" he smirked.

"shut up." you blushed.

he cupped your cheek again before he spoke "i didn't want to until you felt sure that you wanted to kiss me for me, and not just because you now knew i was your soulmate." he admitted, and your heart melted.

"aww, look at you. you big softie." you replied and he laughed.

"just kiss me again." he begged.

and how could you not?

because he might be annoying, and loud, and a bit too pretty for his own good.

but he was your soulmate.

and you were his.

so who really cared about his big mouth when you had the opportunity to just shut him up with a kiss any time you wanted?

not you, that's for sure.

this is my first fic in this format so i'm sorry if it sucks lol. also the idea abt modern nik being a britney fan is 100% @wtfrae's <3

[starxscream]

Morning Off

“   Forced to take the morning off, Swatch realizes what exactly they have been missing. “

SwatchKaard fic!

Oh buddy we got another bc I have problems and it’s them. (Also check it out on ao3 if it’s easier for y’all to read there!)

It was hard to tell when it was morning or evening in the dark world, but time flowed all the same.  Just today, it happened to be early morning, the sound of the rushing fountain in the middle of Ralsei’s kingdom filtering through the windows as if to say ‘it’s time to wake up’.  Other than that, however, there was nothing but a blissful silence, Castle Town still in a state of slumber while the Darkeners continue to rest while few others begin to slowly wake up.

Swatch was one of the latter, always an early riser, even if today they did not have to go into work until later- forcibly given the morning off due to the swatchlings thinking that they ‘worked too much’.  It would have been the whole day, but Swatch was not having that, needing to make sure that the cafe was being run in perfect order.

The bird sighs sleepily, a part of them torn between trying to doze or shaking off their tiredness and getting up anyways.  Eyes barely cracked open, they slowly take in their surroundings, waking up just slightly.  They become aware of someone’s back pressed against their chest.  Arms still wrapped tightly around the other person, Swatch doesn’t make any sudden movement yet, instead dipping their beak down slightly to be able to bury their face in the mass of hair beside them. They could make out quiet snores from the other person, Swatch’s feathered fingers unconsciously stroking the patches of skin where they held him.

As much as Swatch complained about having the morning off, this was…nice.  The knowing that they didn’t have to get up and leave so quickly, just being able to lay here and take in the slow morning.  They let their eyes slowly flutter shut again, silently making their decision on what to do this morning.

Unbeknownst to Swatch, however, their oh-so-wonderful partner had started to stir, his internal clock telling him it was time to wake up.  Unfortunately he did not want to wake up.  A silent groan works past his lips, mouth curved into a frown as he suddenly rolls over in Swatch's arms and pulls himself even closer to the bird, resting his head on his chest.

The sudden movement rouses Swatch from their state of dozing, cracking open a singular eye to gaze down at the other, lifting their beak only slightly while he shifts his position around.  Once settled, Swatch lowers their head back down to rest on top of their partner’s a soft coo escaping their beak.

“Good morning beloved.” Swatch whispers quietly, only earning a tired grunt from the other, pushing himself further into Swatch- at least, attempting to.  He hung tightly to Swatch, wrapped around them like a coiled rod.  It earns a chuckle from Swatch, moving a hand to pet their partner’s messy hair.

“Rouxls…” Swatch speaks again, trying to get their partner’s attention.  Hoping to catch him off guard and get him to respond, at least just for a second, a guilty pleasure.

There’s another groan, Rouxls still nuzzling Swatch’s chest, before a huff, rolling his head slightly back to sleepily peer up at Swatch’s face.  He sits there for a minute, slowly blinking, trying to shake off his own sleep but not wanting to.

“What does- doeseth…thou…” Rouxls fumbles over his words, trying to speak with his usual accent but too sleepy to properly think it out.  There’s a frustrated sigh, Rouxls grumbling quietly before speaking again, “…Good morning.” The blue man lowers his head to bury it back into Swatch’s chest after that, hoping for just a moment’s more peace, expecting Swatch to have to get up and leave soon and Rouxls not wanting him to- as it was every morning.  The amount of times Rouxls complained and tried to get Swatch to stay home…

A smile spreads across Swatch’s beak as Rouxls speaks, catching the poor attempt and then lack of the usual arrogant accent, a pleased chitter vibrating from his throat, “Hm…” Their gaze lingers on Rouxls for a moment, “I now see why you are so desperate to keep me around in the morning.”  Casually poking at Rouxls as they usually did, waiting for the moment Rouxls remembers what      this    morning was.

Rouxls mumbles something incoherent, still refusing to pry himself away from the bird.  Still too sleepy to question why Swatch hadn't tried to get up for work yet? The thoughts immediately erased by the tired selfishness of wanting to keep Swatch here.  To actually stay for even just a morning…

Wait…

Puzzle pieces begin to fall into place, Rouxls’ mind finally jump-starting itself into working. Swatch is still here… It takes Rouxls a moment to realize, still enjoying how warm and comfortable it was in Swatch’s arms, before it suddenly hits and Rouxls’ eyes snap open.  He cranes his head back to look up at the bird, blinking slowly.

“Thou art still hereth?” It’s phrased as a question, sleep still lingering on Rouxls’ voice- having not entirely figured it out yet, but enough to realize the important thing.

“Yes my love, I am still here.  Did you forget what day it was?” Swatch leans down to give a kiss to the top of Rouxls’ head, “I will be here all morning.”

It takes Rouxls a moment for Swatch’s words to register and when they do his face breaks into a large smile, arms squeezing Swatch tighter.  “Of courseth I did not forgete!” Rouxls boasts, obviously lying, “I am...happyeth that thou is hereth.” His voice gets quieter the move he speaks, flush rising to his cheeks at the admittance.

Swatch’s own smile gets wider, heart giving a pang in their chest at Rouxls’ admittance- truly Rouxls’ expressions were their guilty pleasure.  “If it makes you so happy, perhaps I can entertain the idea of doing this more often.”  They watch as Rouxls seems to light up at that, his own sleepiness fading at the prospect.

“As thou should! Thine paramour shouldeth spend thy morn with their belovedeth! It is as thy haveth always toldeth thou.”  A smug tone invites itself into Rouxls’ words, Swatch unable to keep themselves from rolling their eyes at it.  Not that the smile ever left their face however.

Rouxls’ hands move upwards, threading into the fluffy feathery hair on Swatch’s head, “I enjoyeth waking upeth and seeing thou faceth, even if thou is stilleth thy most frustratingeth and annoyinge worm-avian.”  He hums, no ill-intent behind his words, feeling just a little bit more confident this morning, “Howevere that meanseth, that thou art here, I can noweth do this…” Rouxls pulls himself up further, giving Swatch a soft kiss to their beak.

“Mmm...if I knew I would be getting such special attention from you, I would have taken a morning off ages ago…” Swatch chuckles, opting to pepper Rouxls in more kisses, not satisfied with just the one, “So…” Swatch speaks between kisses, “What is it that you commonfolk do during the morning if not preparing for work?”

Rouxls scoffs at that, yet still giggling in between each kiss, “Commonfolk? Thou must surelyest be mistakene! I am enjoyingeth my time, somethinge thateth thou shouldeth take into considerationeth more ofteneth.” His voice slowly turns to a mumble, a half-hearted attempt to keep up the banter, “Thou ist more commonfolk than thy…”

“Says the ‘butler supremeth’ who has no one to buttle for…” Swatch murmurs in response, fingers tangling in Rouxls hair.  Still leaving kisses on Rouxls’ lips, casually and so...normal. Swatch felt as if all of their worries were just...gone, like work was nothing more than an idle thought in the background.  Why were they so adamant about not taking time off...

The two continue to cuddle and kiss during their idle banter, neither making any effort to move or get up.  Instead just enjoying the time between them that was not usually shared.  So distracted with each other, neither of them noticed the door to their room creaking open with a stifled giggle of someone (poorly) trying to sneak in.

It wasn’t until a small round flash of blue and white flew onto the bed loudly announcing, “SURPRISE LANCERBALL ATTACK!” And crashing into them both that they realized Lancer had snuck into their room.  The little round prince slams into them, knocking them with a loud oomph, forcing the two to separate from one another.

“LANCER?” Rouxls loudly gasps in surprise, skipping his usual nicknames due to the shock of the sudden appearance.  Swatch blinks in confusion, stunned silent for a moment, just taking it in and letting Rouxls handle it for now while he registered the situation.

Lancer laughs loudly, plopping down into the bed in the space between Rouxls and Swatch, his music player in hand.  “You should’ve seen your FACES…LOL!” He says the term letter by letter aloud, “Mom Dad showed me how to make MIXTAPES and I made a really really good one! So as my other dads, you have to listen!”  His tongue sticks from his mouth, wiggling the earbuds coiled and tangled around him and holding the ends up for Rouxls and Swatch to take.

Rouxls sighs dramatically, “Thine dearest water-beetle, how manyeth times haveth I told thee to knocketh!  Does thou needest to learneth thou manners as parteth thou royaleth duties...” He pulls himself up, back resting on the headboard, Swatch mirroring the motions.  Lancer’s grin seems to falter for a moment as he’s being reprimanded, before Rouxls continues speaking, “However! I shalt entertaine thee request to listeneth to thou ‘mixtape’ that shalt certainly be nothinge moreth than rackety driveleth.”  There was no real harshness in Rouxls’ words, and Lancer lit up again, rolling over and clambering into Rouxls’ lap, the man instinctively wrapping an arm around the prince.  Swatch opts to accept the earbud, moving closer and sliding their free arm behind Rouxls to pull the two closer into them.   Rouxls accepts the other earbud, the two sticking them into their respective ears.

“I am sure it will sound lovely.” Swatch coos, counterbalancing Rouxls dramatic demeanor with their calmness, “Thank you for sharing Lancer.” Always so polite.

Lancer laughs loudly again, “Of course it will! Now hurry it up, I wanna go show Ralsei!” Kicking his legs up and down in excitement, snuggling closer to Rouxls as if he wasn’t planning on leaving.  Rouxls rolls his eyes, still with a hint of a grin on his face, giving a glance towards Swatch who only offers a shrug and a smile.

“Thou needeth to press play.”

“Oh…right.  Thanks for the reminder, vice father!”

Lancer slams the play button…unleashing the monstrosity of his fully splat sfx “mixtape” upon Rouxls and Swatch.  Swatch was caught off guard, hand flying to his beak to keep from laughing, shoulders quietly bouncing at the absurdity of it.  Rouxls…saw it coming, wearing a tired pleasant smile as he endured listening to it- at least this was different than just the usual sounds Lancer constantly played.

Leaning over, Rouxls rests his head on Swatch’s shoulder, watching Lancer fiddle with his music player with one hand and grabbing Rouxls’ and bouncing it around with the other.

Swatch peers over at Rouxls, a contented smile on their face as they lower their hand, resting their own head on top of Rouxls’ while the blue man appeases Lancer- the two keeping with their usual banter as the mixtape finished.  Swatch remains silent, simply enjoying the moment with them both, maybe they would thank the swatchlings for giving them the morning off.

Maybe.  They wouldn’t want them to get too cocky.

But…perhaps they will take a full day off sometime in the future, if this is what they were missing when they were always at work… Mmm, maybe not a full day.  But another morning for sure.