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starryficsfinishwen · 6 months

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✧!。◟[kinktober 2023] ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ — PGR & GI x reader [week 3]

baptize in your thighs until it hurts

a.n. - waow I'm on my break, what a surprise. I'm super super sorry for the delay. I got busy again after midterms week, and also other real life stuff. meanwhile I'm writing this down while in the bathroom LOL

pairings - forsaken + cerberus [watanabe, noan, noctis, murray] & anemo bois [kazuha, venti] x fem!reader

kinktober masterlist

warnings - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. NSFW THEMES: breeding kink, praise kink, size kink, bimbofication, dacryphilia, lingerie, body worship. cervix fucking?? size kink includes tummy bulging heuheue. also includes exhibitionism (bar; noctis, venti). "just the tip, but whoops" (noctis). some soft sex (kazuha, venti). cunnilingus (venti). fingering (noan, kazuha)

special mention - banners by @/rookthornesartistry, @/cafekitsune

! — Watanabe: Epitaph [ breeding kink ]

[a.n. - have y'all SEEN this man's awakening portrait? I'm creaming.]

Your lover doesn't take “no” for an answer.

“Nngh, w-wait, Wata-ah,” your whines are muffled into the sheets, “s-slow down, please!”

You've long been accustomed to Watanabe's absence— one of the cons for being an ally of Forsaken and especially being their leader's lover. You'd spend days, even weeks and months, find yourself without him. However, you've been an angel to the faction, always helping around whenever one needs help. Things do get different by the time your lover, your Watanabe, comes home—

“That's it, fuck,” mumbled Watanabe, “doin' fucking well,”

He becomes a different person; burying into your cunt as deep as possible, fucking you into oblivion.

Unfortunately, your pleas fall on deaf ears; Watanabe's gloveless fingers trail down from the nape of your exposed neck, to the base of your spine, where your hands are currently tied, holding it down with only a fraction of his strength. His other hand grips hard on your hips, one that you were sure would leave bruises in the morning. You gasp as the sensation, tickling and teasing, overwhelm you.

“I missed you,” he groans, a hard thrust to your pussy, your walls clinging onto his large dick mercilessly. “Ah, ha, I see that this pussy missed me, too.”

“Wa-Watanabe,” you whined further, squirming as he bullies your pussy, “t-too much, s'too big...!”

“But you're taking it so well,” he hums as he leaned onto the arch of your back, one hand now fiddling with your breast, and the other now trailing to your face, “you've always taken it so, so well, darling. That's my girl, mmh?”

Your cries intensified as his free hand finds your mouth, fingers shoved in, and you automatically sucked it, “fuck, yes, that's it...fuck, good, good girl.”

You feel your walls spasm uncontrollably as Watanabe fucks you harshly, certain that his dick snugly rams into your cervix, the drag of his shaft achingly alpng your walls made you feel so full after months of his absence. You cried out, mouth drooling over his fingers, and Watanabe laughs.

“I fucked you so many times now, but you're still so tight; god, you're driving me insane.”

Your brain fogs up at his praise, drowning in the endless waves of pleasure. Without a warning, his cock still deeply inside of you, he flips you over— and you find yourself staring at his green eye.

“Mm, my darling's already fucked out, mmh?” The hand on your mouth now trails to your jaw, and you feel yourself ache as he looks at you so tenderly despite his rough thrusts, “Did you miss me that much?”

“Y-yes,” you mewled, feeling his other hand effortlessly bring your legs over his shoulder, feeling his dick bury itself deeper in you, “W-Watanabe...yo-you're going to break me-”

“Can't help it,” his other hand now frees your tied hands, “not when you looked so good with those children.”

Although your brain is a messy mush, you faintly recall the event earlier— the kids who were at Watanabe's legs, laughing and cheering for their grand hero's welcome. You remember calling them back to you to not distract Watanabe, how you laughed alongside them, and how you carefully took care of them in the main team's absence.

“W-wha-”

“You'd look so good, fuck,” his hand now grips the other side of your hip, the other on your slightly bulging belly and holding it down, somehow aware that his big dick was rearranging your insides, “if I could fill your belly up with kids, mmh? I think you'd look so good carrying our child.”

A part of you wants to point out that you can't, but god— the way his cock was splitting you in half, drilling into that one spot that's making you see so many stars, you forget and instead latch onto his broad shoulders, nails sinking into them.

“Watanabe,” you moaned, your back arching to meet his fast thrusts, “fill me up, please, fill me up so good,”

His body pressed into you, his lips nibbling onto the expanse of your neck, leaving hickies wherever he could reach, while fucking you without a fail.

“Wanna make you a daddy,” you dawdled out, cockdrunk as his dick pulsed inside of you— “fuck and fill me up, Watanabe.”

And oh, it felt so good, too good, when his grunts in your ear makes you shiver all over— the tall tale sign of him coming soon.

“God, fuck,” his fingers reached to rub your throbbing clit, your orgasm cresting over your foggy mind, “cum for me, [Y/N], let me fill you up with my cum.”

You cried out your lover's name as your high comes unexpectedly, with Watanabe unraveling alongside you— his cum filling your empty womb, overfilling you more maybe so as something wet and sticky coats your inner thighs, and him fucking you through your orgasms. Although tired, you whined as you pulled Watanabe back in your bare chest, pouting as he attempted to pull out.

“D-don't,” you whispered, lethargy pulling you to sleep, “don't wanna let your cum out...”

“I missed you, too,” Watanabe chuckles, “but you already know that...”

You pouted, feigning obliviousness, “no. But I do believe in miracles.”

You clench around him, his still-hard dick, and he looks away, his hair covering half of his face. “[Y/N]...”

“Fuck me until I can't walk, Watanabe. Who knows, you just might get me pregnant.”

! — Noctis: Indominus [ size kink ]

Sometimes, you think your boyfriend is a little dumb.

Sure, causing a ruckus and nearly getting you (and Cerberus) in trouble nearly costs half of your mortal life— you're quite surprised you haven't ascended to heaven yet. Although that happens, you still love your boyfriend to bits; knowing that he's just a little dumb boy who needs a little guidance.

Or so you thought.

“N-Noctis!” a moan slips out of your covered mouth, as you felt his cockhead tease the entrance of your slip, “w-what if someone sees us-!”

“So they would,” he groans in your ear, breath tickling you from your neck, down to your wet cunt, “god, I will die if I can't fuck this pussy.”

“Noctis...!” Although you want to reprimand him for being less careful, you can't help but succumb to the way he shallowly thrusts into you. “I-I thought you said-”

“Mmh, just the tip, hngh,” he assures you, leaving little kisses all over your jaw, “I-I promise, it won't take long.”

You dumb ass as a boyfriend is nothing but trouble. You sigh, already feeling full just from his cockhead, “o-okay...just please, make it quick...”

“thank god,” he whines into your ear, hips uncontrollably rutting into you, “i-it won't take long.”

But your boyfriend is kind, loving even— seeing the way your lips curl into crescents, teeth biting into them as you suppress your moans, your closed eyes, pussy gripping onto him like a vice— it almost feels like he's close to drowning. Drowning to the point that he ruts into you like he's running, holding you down further.

You notice this quickly, eyes wide open as he sinks you further into his long and thick cock, tears forming in the corner of your eyes,

“W-wait...!” you cried out, feeling the delicious stretch of your cunt just to accommodate his length, “Noctis, y-you promised!”

Although it's been so many times since you've engaged in such acts, your pussy still struggles to take in everything in Noctis; sometimes, only half of his dick is inside of you. But now-

“shit,” he growled loudly, caging you further as he drills you into the walls, your cries only turning him on as he sees his cock finally nearing to be buried deep inside of you, “such a greedy little pussy.”

Your cunt throbs as a response as you felt him split you open. “Ah, hah, Noctis, p-please...”

“Look at this,” his hands run through the bulge in your stomach, where his cock snugly rests, “I knew you could take it. You're a champ, babe.”

You whined— overwhelmed as he starts to fuck you, the first time that his dick immediately reaches the sweet spots inside of you. Maybe he's not the one who's dumb, but you. It's harder to hold back your moans now, no— not when your boyfriend is now chasing the high alongside you, the pleasure burning your mind.

“Fuck that; don't cover your mouth, baby. Let the whole bar hear how you're only for me, yeah?”

! — Noan: Arca [ praise kink ]

Noan is the prettiest construct you've ever seen in your whole life.

Soft black hair, innocent and careful lime green irises, smooth yet refined jaw— he's basically the whole package. Not only that, you're lucky to have him as your lover.

A lover who's hellbent on getting your praises.

“Good boy,” you cooed, fingers threading through Noan's hair, moans spewing out of your lips as you felt his own fingers toying inside if you, “you're doing good for me.”

Picture this: a lazy Sunday morning, and you're both watching some cheesy telenovela to pass some time before you go back to work tomorrow. At some point, while the casts are busy arguing over trivial issues, clothes have long been forgotten, and your boy is under you, looking confusingly pretty as he plays with your cunt.

You straddle him by the hips, leaning back, pride swelling in your chest as you notice Noan is trying so many things with you. His usual smiling expression is flushed pink, as he looks at you with such interest and curiosity.

“Noan, no,” you whispered, a hand on his cheek, “you're doing so, so good, nngh, I love it when you do this.”

A poor boy, just experimenting with everything new. It could be overwhelming, seeing as he never had any experience, but you think this is the perfect time to try— especially now that you're both horny.

“Fuck,” you cursed as you felt his fingers curls around the spot you've waited, “r-right there, Noan, shit, you're so good...”

Noan wouldn't admit it, but it's true- he's getting too turned on. Just the way you've looked above him, your moans and calling out to him, and just how warm and wet the inside felt. He unconsciously licks his lips as he looked up at you, already feeling so lightheaded just from looking at you.

“[Y/N],” he maintains the pace as he sees you rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, a waterfall of moans crying out his name, “you look so...”

Without a warning, you unravel in Noan's fingers, something wet and sticky coming out of your pussy. Noan keeps his fingers going, even after you came, coaxing whatever liquid was still left inside of you.

That was your first orgasm in front of the boy, somehow, it made the boy's chest throb— was he really that good? To make someone- his lover- come so good like that?

Reality pulls him back, when he felt your fingers wrap itself around his shaft, a lewd and unapologetic moan coming out of his lips. You stared back at him, a small smile on your lips.

“Did you like that, Noan?” You purred, standing a bit so you could slot yourself in between his shaft, making the both of you moan, “you made me cum with your fingers; you're doing so well.”

His dick throbs at the phrase, “i-it's my first time...”

You start to grind on his shaft, eyes rolling back at how long it would be inside of you. “Mm, I'm enjoying it, I really do confess...”

It sparked his interest. Noan shifts a bit, so the prominent vein in his dick perfectly grinds with your trembling clit, “what is, [Y/N]?”

“I think about this situation a lot.” Your grinding becomes rougher, causing the both of you to moan out loud, “god, the thought of you fucking me is so unreal; but here we are.”

He groans as he felt your hands back at his hair, pulling him close as you grinded more on his leaking cockhead now, “that you must look so pretty when you're under me...”

You stood up slightly, one hand now aligning his aching dick closer to your warm hole, “seems like I won't be imagining that now, hm?”

Moaning out his name, you bottomed out in one thrust. Noan gasps in surprise, as he felt your walls tremble with his cock inside of you.

“Look at me, Noan,” you opened your mouth to warn him, one hand tilting his chin to reach your line of vision. “you'll be a good boy and fuck me like this, yeah?”

He groans, but thrusts up, as a response to your order, “y-yes...”

“Good boy,” you cooed once more, bouncing on his cock with a smile on your face as his expression contorts in pleasure, “let me be the one to teach you proper etiquette in fucking me.”

! — Murray: ?? [ bimbofication + dacryphilia ]

If he wasn't being a doting brother to Lee, then he's known to be one of the most calculative and cunning commandants— a well-known fact even that he is Cerberus' esteemed commandant. You wouldn't lie; Murray lived up to all his titles and responsibilities. He's the perfect man for any job you'd ask for: in politics, in the battlefield, and anything else in between.

As a foundation of his existence as an extraordinary individual, another comes into the picture: his pretty, little trophy girlfriend— you. A sweet, sweet little thing; always at his beck and call, always there to relieve him from his stress and sadness. In the eyes of those around you, you're always his support person, giving him hugs and kisses when he's looking down. You also bake pastries to give out around the hall, and occasionally to your lover's team, too. What a pretty, little, sweet thing you were—

Quite literally.

“Do you like the view?” Murray's sinister grin is etched on his face, your eyes nearly close to forming heart-shaped irises, the drag of his dick in between the crevices of your breasts, “you do, you little minx?”

Behind the tasteful eyes of the public, your Murray was not the sweet man they knew; vicious, manipulative, and—

“Yes, yes,” you dawdled out, a shudder across your body as you felt the vibrator slip in deeper inside of you, “that feels s-so good, m-master...”

Murray's favorite little plaything: you. Other than being his doting girlfriend, you were his plaything; dolled up to his preferences, always hungry for his cock.

“Mhm, it does,” Murray fucks between your breasts, his hand finding your jaw and slotting his thumb in between your open lips, “such a good girl for me.”

When he pulls away (you whine from the loss of his heat; he finds it endearing), he slowly pulls out your favorite pink vibrator out of your overstimulated pussy. You cry out, “w-wait, n-no...!”

“Mm? What's wrong?” He teases, mirth dripping from his tons, “do you prefer a poor old vibrator than my cock, dear?”

You whined once more, desperate to feel something fill up your awaiting walls, hole clenching around nothing.

“W-wanna feel you in me, m-master,” you sniffled, tears beginning to form like crystals in the corner of your eye, “I feel so empty, wan' your dick in me, master, please?”

And who was Murray to deny his pretty little plaything; you, sprawled out so beautifully in his bed, pussy aching and drenched in your arousal, little tears escaping your eyes? Murray growls as your tears begin to turn him on, crawling so that his shaft rubs your neglected pussy.

You've both been awfully stressed anyways. But god— he wishes he could keep teasing you until you break.

“Fuck, pretty girl,” he moans your name when the tip of his cock catches your clit, “be good for me, hm? I'm going to start fucking you...”

Without a delay, he slips in his pussy into your wet, warm walls; the instrusion make the both of you cry out. Tears now spill out of your eyes, and Murray ruts into you, without even letting you adjust.

“God, still so tight for me,” he chuckles, watching you squirm as he fucks you harder, “my little girl, my little plaything.”

But you've long descended into heaven, your wordless babbles of "more, more" and "please, more", feeling the drag of his dick now filling you up more than ever.

When Murray feels your orgasm teetering closer, he only hastens the pace, hand over your drooling mouth, as you mindlessly drown in the pleasure he gives, “You'll take more, hm? How about you count the number of times I make you cum tonight; we'll start again if you lose count, okay, darling?”

! — Kazuha: Scarlet Leaves Pursue Wild Waves [ lingerie ]

Kazuha has always been away far too long.

Always traveling to where the winds would take him— you believe that it's really the reason why he has anemo as a vision; he can talk to the trees with only a whisper of the wind— and only comes back weeks or months later.

Although a ring is out of the picture, he once promised his love to you with the call of the wind as your witness. At first, it was stupid; but you loved him that you'd let him go, when the wind was as free as it could get.

To cope with his absence, you started to look for ways to surprise your lover when he comes back. At first, they were little trinkets you'd find by the market, into desserts and food that you can make. Quite recently though, after asking around the married ladies in Liyue harbor, they told you about a secret they'd do when they wait for their husbands at sea: wearing something that their husbands couldn't wait to see them in.

Lo and behold, an autumn-colored lace drapes around your body. Lingerie. Although it's awkward (you've never been entirely confident with your physique), you think that it might look different in your lover's eyes anyway. You prepare to put it away, waiting for the day Kazuha would come home.

Yet, that day seemed to be today.

“Are you trying that on for me, my love?”

You whirled around to meet Kazuha, who was leaning by the doorframe, a gentle smile on his lips. Quickly, you try to grab the nearest clothing to shield yourself from his knowing gaze, “K-Kazuha! You're home early!”

He says nothing, but walks lightly to you. You back away until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you are left with Kazuha, bodies touching and his face inches away from you.

“I asked you a question, my dove,” he smiles, taking your hand to his lips, “are you trying this on for me?”

You try not to look at his face, guilt and embarrassment making your cheeks flush a deep shade of red, “I-I...was just trying them on...”

“My dove, my love,” he calls out, lips from your hand now trailing to your shoulder blades and to your jaw, a soft kiss there, “why are you so flustered?”

“U-um...”

Words die on your throat, as you felt his hands snake to your hips, guiding you onto the bed, his lips kissing and teeth nibbling on your skin. “You look...very beautiful in it. I know you've always been so beautiful, but in this...you look so...breathtaking.”

You softly moaned at his words and his ministrations, his kiss turning into a hickey in one side of your neck, “Kazuha, I...”

“So beautiful,” he laughs and his breath tickles your skin, your cunt throbbing when his other hand now rests at your inner thighs, massaging it down there, “my pretty dove is dressing up like a gift for me.”

His fingers deftly brush your clothed pussy, a small patch of wetness staining it. Putting light pressure onto where your clit was, Kazuha starts to rub you down there, making you squirm. But Kazuha doesn't mind; he leaves more hickies where his kisses left, his other hand now delicately massaging one mound of your breast.

“I-I wasn't sure if you'd like this...”

“Darling,” he purrs in your ear, making you shiver, “you are a gift to me; naked or not, I will always think that you are so beautiful.”

Pushing your lacey panties aside, Kazuha swiftly slips in a finger inside of you, making you gasp, but he quickly kisses you. His thumb caresses your clit while fingering your little cunt, your moans get swallowed in his kiss. The smell of Inazuman air, sakura trees, and ocean drives you insane— this was your lover, and he was back once more in your arms.

With a loud cry, you come undone in Kazuha's fingers, squirting after such an intense atmosphere. When you've calmed down, you notice a glint in Kazuha's eyes, and you knew that wasn't the end of it.

“I missed you, my dove. Why don't I show you how much I've missed you? Ah; don't take that off, I want to make love with you while you're wearing that.”

! — Venti/Barbatos: Windborne Bard [ body worship ]

Your god is kind; benevolent, unwavering, commited.

His aquamarine eyes glow so brightly than you've ever seen before. Even as he stands before you, a sinner so bare in the eyes of a god—your god— his lips are a sweet smile, and you've known these lips for a long time now.

“My angel,” your god is a lover, voice used for singing ballads and songs of tales, “so, you are here.”

In a cathedral. In Barbatos' throne, where his lyre laid at his feet. You throb at the very thought of sinning in his holy cathedral— stained glass shone by moonlight cast an ethereal glow over the man in front of you as he looked at you with such reverence, you forgot for a moment that you were going to do something so...unholy in this sacred place.

“This is your idea,” you huffed, already feeling conscious as you shuffle in your makeshift bed (your cape and clothes), feeling so shy in your god's presence, “are you sure I won't get sentenced to hell here?”

Venti laughs, settling in between your legs, “relax~ I double checked everything. You needn't worry, my muse.”

You've always known Venti had a penchant for doing so many reckless things— never would have thought that having sex in a cathedral— his cathedral— being one. Venti blows a strong wind to your exposed cunt, causing you to yelp.

“V-Venti!”

“Pretty,” he purred, fingers tracing the inside of your thigh, “my windblume, have I ever told you how pretty you are?”

“Countless times now,” you retorted, “including now.”

“Tsk, I ought to teach you better than that.” He smiles at you, the same aquamarine irises you've fallen in love with glowing brighter once more, “this offer is so tempting, you wouldn't have the heart to deny it.”

“I'd like to see you try, then, my bard.”

Your bard, your god, chuckles. Effortlessly, he hoists your legs up to his shoulder blades, your ankles over his shoulders. You watch as he keeps his gaze at you, sultry and honest, as he kisses the area above your feet.

“My windblume,” he breathed into your legs, trailing kisses without breaking eye contact, “my precious dove,”

He kisses and kisses— your legs, your knees, the back of your knees— and you think of it so endearing, even as arousal pools down there, and his kisses are still so gentle; his fingers would absentmindedly trail your thighs, and his gaze was far too intense, you had to look away.

“My muse, don't look away,” his spare hand finds your jaw, to make you look at him, as he goes down and kisses the inside of your thighs. “let me worship you, the same way you did to me.”

It tugs an unknown emotion in your heart, as you cannot look away; no, when he reverently kisses the inside of your thighs more, near your sopping wet core. It makes you cry out—“Venti,” but he nibbles that area more.

Your god spews words of worship and prayers in between them, your core that throbs at his words. You hold onto his hair, but he remains unfazed, only teasing you more.

“Barbatos,” you cried out, and Venti only smiles down there.

“Yes, call me that, my muse,” he holds onto your hips, as he licks a long stripe of your pussy, tasting you.

“Call your god,” he whispers in between your folds, now hellbent to fuck you with his tongue, “and I'll make you cum.”

Venti is relentless as he tastes you, face buried in between your legs. You moan and cry out his name, archons your witness; but tonight, your god forgets he is a god. Rather— he worships you, a sinner, as he makes you unravel in his touch.

“That's it, my muse,” he hums, coaxing the first orgasm of tonight, “let this cathedral know whose god you're worshipping while I fuck you hard like this.”

please like, reblog, comment if you likey! please don't copy, plagiarize, or translate my work without my permission!

-ˋˏ starryficsfinishwen ˎˊ

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sollasidoo · 4 months

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summer in December

#punishing gray raven #pgr noan

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strikehawkatyourservice · 9 months

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GUYYSSS! ARE THEY REALLY MAKING BLACK ROCK SHOOTER?! TELL ME IS NOT A JOKE!!!!

After Nier Automata, didn't thought they will make a Collab with BRS and make the character playable...

This is the reason why PGR is my fav game. It will never cease to amaze me

#pgr #pgr commandant #punishing gray raven #pgr chrome #strike hawk #pgr kamui #pgr camu #pgr wanshi #pgr lee #cerberus #pgr vera #pgr noctis #pgr 21 #pgr noan #pgr selena #pgr bianca #black rock shooter #collaboration #are you kidding me

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fbj723 · 9 months

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6 fanarts pgr edition for 7 follows on twt

#punishing gray raven #战双帕弥什 #パニグレ #pgr #pgr selena #pgr wanshi #pgr noan #pgr watanabe #pgr lee #pgr vera #my art

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su1sen · 6 months

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noan sketch!

#punishing gray raven #digital art #fanart #pgr #noanpgr #noan #pgr noan

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penguinterbang · 9 months

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#punishing gray raven #パニグレ #战双帕弥什 #pgr noan

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evernight-beat · 8 months

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#chevron speaks #pgr #punishing gray raven #punishing: gray raven #chevron draws #pgr noan #noan #noan arca

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arkbeyond · 8 months

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hey hoo!! May I request relationship hcs with Noan? 🥹🫶🏻 content for him is nonexistent but I love him so much, so that kinda makes me sad ☹️ Noan brainworms!!!

Thank you sm! ♥️

my first request !! cinder burns was soooo good i'm honestly really surprised at the lack of noan content ꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ i hope this feeds your brainworms at least a little and i hope you enjoy, anon!! 🫡

noan relationship hcs

content warnings: none

➸ NOAN seems like the type of lover who is somehow both incredibly earnest and just a little bit clumsy in his relationship with you — romance is relatively new territory for him, and for all the books he may have read growing up, drama-filled romantic subplots did little to prepare him for an actual relationship.

➸ It's charming in its own way too, of course: he doesn't mind doing things his own way, but he values your input more than most. He'll often say things like, I wanted to walk you back to your room. Is that okay? or, If you want to, we could stop by that dessert store you like. He'll often end your dates with a little, Can I kiss you? before dropping you off, and even if you insist that he doesn't need your permission, there's a pretty good chance he'll keep asking, if only to see your reaction.

➸ On that note, Noan isn't necessarily opposed to PDA, but he seems like the type to simply prefer reserving the more affectionate things for when it's just the two of you. He doesn't mind little things, though, like kissing you on the cheek, or sharing a drink, or holding your hand in public. He's developed a little habit of his own with you, too — unknowingly reaching to link his little finger with yours when you two happen to stand beside each other.

➸ Noan is very big on acts of service! He loves doing little things for you, even if it's as small as mending a small tear in your shirt, helping you dig through some paperwork, or walking you back to your room. It's a win on two fronts, if you ask him — he loves it when you're able to rely on him, and he also loves the way you smile when you thank him.

➸ He loves just...watching you, too. He loves being near you, don't get him wrong, but if the circumstances don't allow for it, he's just as satisfied to gaze at you from afar. It doesn't matter if it's just a passing glance in the hall as you both scurry over to your next appointment, or when he's able to look more closely at your face as you rest your head in his lap. You're you, and he's intent on committing every part of you to memory: the way your eyebrows furrow when you focus, or the way the skin of your palm looks as he reaches out to take your hand in his.

➸ It's a little cheesy, but his mind wanders to you often: have you eaten? Are you getting enough sleep? He saw this wildflower growing out of the pavement on his last mission and thought of you — would you let him put it in your hair? These idle daydreams often lead him to doodle little portraits of you in his notebook when he doesn't have anything else to keep his hands busy. Of course, he'll let you take a peek at them if you want; he only wishes he could somehow capture a fraction of how he feels for you with pen and paper alone.

#pgr #punishing gray raven #pgr noan #pgr x reader #punishing gray raven x reader #pgr noan x reader #bee.writes

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leeahqueen · 8 months

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Love Light Symphony (Noan)

Noan: Commandant? This outfit of yours is…

Skk: This is for the event of the maze.

Noan: Maze event?

Skk: (Briefly describe the event)

Noan: I see, the maze is Constarelle’s special pavilion.

Skk: How is it, are you interested?

Noan: Of course, let’s go.

Noan smiled and stretched out his hand to the humans.

[Shortly after finishing the maze]

Noan: It turned out that such a stage looked like a place prepared for a wedding.

Noan looked at the whole stage with an admiring expression.

Noan: In the past, I was in a similar place and attended several other people’s weddings.

Skk: A wedding between refugee?

Noan: Well, refugee are people who are still on the earth.

Noan: The abandoned church was dark and old, and sometimes some infected bodies would jump out, which is completely different from here.

Skk: That was too dangerous.

Noan: Even if there were danger, they will still hold it, and we will participate.

Noan: Struggling to survive in the apocalypse was a great and tedious thing, because of this… People want to leave bright memories in their hearts.

Noan: You also came here because you wanted to leave some good memories, so you got out of your busy schedule and came here, right?

Skk: That’s right.

Skk: What about you, Noan?

Noan: Me too, I am very happy to receive your invitation.

Noan: In addition…

The usually a straightforward young man in front of you was silent for a moment, then hesitantly looked away.

Skk: What’s wrong?

Hearing the question, Noan looked at the human in front of him seriously again and smiled a little embarrassedly.

Noan: When I first saw you, I wanted to say…

Noan: In a way, you are very cute.

Noan: Can I pinch your doll costume?

Skk: Alright.

Noan: So… can I give you a hug?

[THE END]

#punishing gray raven #pgr noan #noan

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lunaefall · 1 year

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PGR White Day Art! (JP Server)

#punishing gray raven #pgr #pgr noan #noan #pgr lee #lee #pgr chrome #chrome #official art #kurogame #dani.txt #jp server

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valsshadow · 3 months

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i may or may not have fallen in love with pgr wallpapers again. anyways heres more

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starryficsfinishwen · 2 months

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✧。◟ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ! — PGR Men x reader

last night, I laid in bed so blue / then I realized the truth!

summary // how do your favorite constructs kiss you?

a.n. - post Valentine's post :D I've been so busy with irl lately, I only just got back on my Tumblr 🫠 how'd your valentine's go?(I had a date with my school project :'D so peinful)

pairing(s) - lee, chrome, wanshi, kamui, camu, watanabe, noan, roland, noctis x f!commandant (and can be gender neutral!) (separate!)

content // suggestive LOL basically how your favorite playable characters would kiss you scenarios~

dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Lee: Hyperreal

Kissing Lee is like breathing.

Inhaling, in the way his hands are on your jaw, the little smile on your lips when his breath fans yours. Breathing in, the smell of the cologne you've gifted him makes you dizzy in a good way, the softest brush of his mouth on the corner of your lips. Taking in, the taste of chocolate; bitter as the coffee you made the first time, yet morphs into something so sweet as sugar cookies, and you can feel him smiling as your lips meet, savoring every drop he offers—

Exhaling, as Lee pulls away to give you air, foreheads touching, because you are both too intertwined to move away from one another.

“We made quite a mess here,” you giggled.

The newly-made kitchen of the Gray Raven base is as messy as a child's breakfast: pots and pans strung everywhere, chocolates and other liquids splattered all over the counter, the drain is probably clogging for some reason (it was Lee's fault), and there was a burnt cake placed somewhere (your fault) but you both never minded those.

“I told you to let me handle all the baking,” Lee huffs, thumbs unconsciously caressing your jaw, “You had to be so stubborn.”

“I knew what I was doing,” you pout, “You always follow the recipe, even though you could just do some feeling!”

“I am starting to doubt your feelings. Remember the first-”

“-not another word.”

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry to burst your bubble.” Lee smiles at you, hands now placed beside your legs on the table you sat on, “We might as well clean up and just order something else.”

“Nooo,” you whine, tugging on his 'Kiss the Cook' apron, “The last cake is in the oven. It'll be done. I promise, it will taste yummy.”

Your lover laughs, his head rubbing your cheek, “Remind me again why we are baking?”

“It was supposed to be my surprise for you for Valentine's.” You admit, sighing, “You had to come and ruin it.”

Everything feels natural; his body fills in the gaps in yours. His head rests on your neck, your hand on his cheek and hair, his arms on your waist. You breathe in the same air, laughing off the smell of the burnt cake from earlier.

“I'm sorry,” he softly murmurs, his lips lightly kissing your neck, “...at least I get to take you out tonight.”

“Tonight?” Did you have a plan for tonight?

“Yes. I reserved a table for us at the restaurant you like.”

What a surprise. Pulling away to look at Lee's cerulean eyes, you somehow realized something:

“I thought you hated dining outside of our lounge.”

“I do,” Lee purses his lips, before sighing, “but I know we've been busy and you wanted to eat outside. Besides, it's still practical because of the restaurant's offer for Valentine's.”

Ah, this man is so smooth. You already knew that it wasn't just for that reason. Leaning to press your lips into his, you could feel your heart leap out of joy. You could hear the ting of the oven, but you never cared. You only wanted Lee's kiss— Lee's love, in the form of inhaling, taking in, exhaling.

“Commandant,” Lee pulls away slightly, whispering, “the cake-”

“I love you, Lee,” you giggled, hands threading in his hair as you purposely let your leg catch that particular spot that made him shudder, “You're so sly.”

“...You better finish what you've started, Commandant.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Chrome: Glory

Kissing Chrome is needy.

It's hot, it's heavy— his hands that grasped your shoulders, almost afraid you'd disappear if he wasn't careful; yet, still so gentle— his lips on yours are so soft, you feel like you'd melt if he wasn't holding you.

“I missed you,” Chrome mumbles when he parted from yours for air, “I missed you so damn much.”

It's not a common occurrence for the both of you to be away from each other. He was the Captain of Strike Hawk, and you had your own team. But to be away from the public eye, to be in some random corner of the streets, as your heavy breathing mingled with one another and your bodies touching, you remember that you couldn't be away from your lover far too long now.

“I missed you, Chrome, I missed you, too.” You could sob from the intensity of your situation, hands reaching for whatever part of him—his shoulders, his arms, his cheek— “Thank God, I can finally see you.”

“Me too,” Chrome breathes, placing a kiss on the crown of your head, “I couldn't wait any longer.”

“Do you still have more appointments?”

“I do,” he groans, frustration evident on his pretty face, “I still have to meet a few more people...”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” Chrome is the one who apologizes instead, starry eyed twinkling that made you frown instead.

It's always busy and no rest days. Apart from your lover being such a dependable leader, sometimes, your greed makes you want to steal him away. But alas, as you caress his cheek, the cool touch of his skin underneath your fingertips, it makes you lean onto him, lips kissing his jaw.

“[Y/N]...?”

“I missed your touch,” You admit, hands now on his cheeks, “I missed your face. I missed your hands, your kisses— I don't want to be away from you longer.”

Was it your position that somehow made you hot? Or was it the way Chrome leaned more into you, kisses reaching every inch of your face, to your chin, to your exposed jaw— you stifle a quiet moan, as Chrome nips at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, something that you've never touched before, something that was a step closer into your relationship.

“I am trying so hard not to overwhelm you, [Y/N]. I missed you so badly,” Chrome groans, “but finally seeing you, finally being able to touch you...I want to show you how much I missed you, but I'm afraid it'll be too much...”

“Don't stop,” Boldly, you proclaimed, hands running through his hair, disrupting it into a messy one, “Let's go home, Chrome. Show me how much you've missed me, and I'll show you mine.”

Pulling away so slightly, Chrome's turquoise irises reflecting a darker shade amidst the light from the crack of the corner. In between those eyes and your pending responsibilities, you already made your decision. As you feel Chrome's hold on your hips, you pressed your lips to him.

“I hope you'll stay true to that offer, [Y/N].”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Wanshi: Hypnos

Kissing Wanshi is dreamy.

In the tender tones of daylight, the artificial sun bleeding into your skin. There are too many touches all at once, but neither the two of you bother to pull away. Wanshi's lips find your skin without a hassle, humming when you swallow your laughs. He's everywhere— your hand, your arm, your shoulder, the dip of your breasts, your clavicle— everywhere but your face.

“Wanshi,” you purred, never bothering to open your eyes, “you're so needy...”

“Hush, let me dream a bit longer,” your lover sighs in your neck, nibbling your skin, “it's not everyday I get to kiss you like this.”

“We'll both be late at this point. Didn't you say Captain Chrome warned you already?”

“He already put those rules before,” he pauses, yawning, arms now wrapped possessively around your waist, “I'm exempted.”

“I won't be surprised if you get to be deprived of your capsule for another week...”

“Hey, this is about us today,” he murmurs, lightly kissing the side of your neck, “I don't want to hear another man's name in our bed...”

Your lover never learns. But still, you couldn't help but laugh at his antics. It's his problem anyways, not yours. As you giggle, your hand finds itself cupping Wanshi's soft cheeks, squeezing it.

“Wanshi, darling, we really need to get up soon. I also have work.”

You could feel Wanshi pouting against your skin. Without a warning, he gets on top of you, golden eyes looking at you. “Five minutes. Give me five more minutes, and I'll let you go.”

As you were about to ask what he meant, Wanshi leans down to capture your lips with his. You squeak from surprise, but in the end, you couldn't help but submit to his whims. His soft lips, the love that permeates from him, slipping in so deeply into you as you felt yourself buried deeper into the sheets. Your hand finds his, intertwining as he leads it above your head. Forget your job, forget that it's another shitty work day; it's only you and Wanshi, in your bed, and his dreamy kisses.

You love Wanshi, and you'd always pick him, despite his sleepy circumstances, despite everything else.

“Mm...Wanshi, give me more than five minutes.” You mutter, letting your legs wrap around his waist, pressing into him.

“Oh?”

“Yes, nngh, you win this time. Now, give me more kisses.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Kamui: Tenebrion

Kissing Kamui is like catching the sun in both hands.

More like a surprise; playful shouting as he wins another round of your favorite game, leaving you dumbfounded in your chair. You love your man so much that you'd rather see him with that goofy smile on his face. But sometimes, some victories feel like they are being rubbed hard on your face.

“Haha! This is the third time now!”

“Alright, alright,” you shrug, placing the controller down, watching Kamui lead out of his seat, “You win.”

“Does this mean I get to have the seat for a week?”

“A month, too, if you want,” you shrug again, “Congratulations, Kamui.”

It's his playful character that made you fall for him in the first place— a unique laughter, the way his eyes crinkled with delight, how Kamui's feet would curl. But unbeknownst to him, however, you had another trick on your sleeve.

“Time for a free round!”

“No, thank you,” you flutter your eyes at him, “I'd like to see you play for now. I might get you next time if I watch your movements.”

Kamui laughs instead, making your stomach jump, “Babe, just watch, then. But I'm sure that I'll win again like always.”

As Kamui positions, your plan goes into play. He won't win against you, the real mastermind of the game.

Kamui's eyes glimmer as he focuses intently on the game. Somehow, in the middle of scoring another new record, his mind lands on you.

“[Y/N]? You seem qui-”

When he turns his head, he is met with a surprise kiss on his lips. Kissing Kamui always felt like reaching for the sun in your hands, especially this way: the surprised sound from his lips when they met yours, the softest yet so hot as he absentmindedly drops his console, reaching to hold you; Kamui doesn't hesitate to kiss you back with the same intensity— tongue tasting his favorite drink on yours, the smell of your perfume, and the dizzying heat when he refuses the pull away, in spite of your little plan.

You squeak when Kamui gently pushes you onto the sofa, him breaking away to find your saliva strung together on both of your lips. The game plays in the background, forgotten as Kamui straddles you. Looking back at his glinting eyes, you seem to miss this in your equation.

“Really, [Y/N]?”

“Y-you didn't have to- I-I thought you'd-”

“Tsk, tsk,” Kamui laughs, thumb caressing your swollen lips, “[Y/N], you already knew I'd let you win. I guess you'll be getting your present early, then~”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Camu: Crocotta

Kissing Camu is like snow on the beach.

So rare, so sudden. It's the rumble of the vending machine of some unknown brand, dropping a new kind of food. Was it edible?

“So they really did put up these things.”

It's the low sound of Camu's husky voice surprising you on a random sunny afternoon. You quickly pick up the food, presenting it in front of him, “Do you mean this?”

Camu takes the food from your hand. It's a cake in a can, you presume, as it is written boldly on the cover. Squinting his eyes, Camu effortlessly tears off the lid without the use of the safety pin. At this point, such a scenario no longer surprises you.

“A cake in the can?”

“A cake in the can.” Camu affirms, giving it back to you, “It was a staple for the Japanese vending machines back in the Golden Age.”

The little treat (although forced open) seemed cute. Using the spoon provided, you took a few bites. Immediately, a yummy flavor pours into your mouth, making you squeal with joy. You quickly taste more.

“Mmh! It's so sweet~!”

“Yeah, they're usually really sweet.”

Taking a large spoonful, you hold it out to Camu. “Would you like some?”

Hesitant. Camu looks at you, somehow judging you (do you usually hold out food to random people?), yet cautiously leans down to your height. His eyes never leave yours as he takes a bite, even until he gulps it down. Your eyes twinkle as you notice your joy reflected in his, signaling the sweet taste of the dessert.

“What do you think?”

“...it is very sweet.”

“I really want to eat more of this~” you grin, “let me order-”

Camu holds your shoulder, causing you to stop. When you turned to look back at him, focused dark eyes looked at you.

“Wait.”

Camu leans forward, his face inches away from yours. As you feel your temperature grow higher, you only notice Camu's thumb caress the corner of your mouth.

“...you had a bit of cream there.”

Did you only notice Camu's handsomeness just now? Or was it because of the close proximity? His breath is cool on your lips, pretty dark eyes devoid of any harshness that he usually portrays, yet the subtle softness of his features somehow made him look more handsome up close. It makes you want to kiss him.

“I'm sorry?”

Snapping out of your reverie, you blink at him, “Huh?”

“You said you wanted to kiss me.”

Crap. You and your thoughts! You groan, trying to mask your reddening embarrassment, “Ah, Camu, I'm so sorry, I didn't-”

But Camu closes the gap anyways. It catches you off guard at first, but his kiss is cool and warm at the same time, almost felt like bathing in the sea amidst the snow. You taste the sweet cake on his lips, the smell of peppermint invading your senses. It is only a short while, ending as fast as it started. When he pulls away, you find dark eyes reflecting your emotion: curiosity.

“...ah-!”

“Technically, we indirectly kissed already.”

Camu points at the spoon, realization dawning on you. You squeak, trying to assess more of the situation. But Camu, with a small smile on his lips despite the deepening blush on his cheeks, coughs, “...I guess it's time for me to ask you out later during the Valentine's event, then.”

You were about to ask what the deal was about, until your mind whirred back to his initial words.

“I thought you don't like Valentine's?”

“I don't like Valentines.” He said.

“So why...?”

Camu, turning away from you, before looking back with a smile on his face, “I like you, obviously.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Watanabe: Epitaph

Kissing Watanabe is always a surprise.

It's when you least expected it. From the sudden kisses in front of children, to meet ups in the warehouse, and even in random times of the day. Watanabe would always keep surprising you, you almost think it's a routine at this point (God Bless your heart; hopefully his antics won't kill you before your fated day).

However, lately, it's almost not happening.

“Hello, [Y/N],” your lover greets you as he passes by, opting to continue talking to the man beside him. You retract your expectant hands.

“Watch out, [Y/N].” Watanabe calmly catches you by your hips, when a child nearly hits you with the ball. You wanted to reach out, but he was already walking away.

“I'll be taking that.” And gone was the playful kiss on your shoulder, instead, it was a smile on his lips as he took the supplies and left you in the dark. What the hell was going on?

On a random evening, he started to avoid you on purpose.

“Watanabe!” You cried out as you watched him disappear from the sea of people.

It was the nth time of you trying to track him down that day. Tired from running around, you slump against the wall, tears filling your eyes. Your tears began to escape your eyes as the atmosphere around you, despite it being Valentine's, was full of love and laughter.

What did you do wrong? Watanabe is your lover, one you've long promised to be with forever. But what was forever if he no longer looked at your way?

“Miss [Y/N]?”

Sniffling away your tears, you looked up to see one of the Forsaken soldiers. “Y-yes?”

“...are you alright?”

“Y-yes, yes,” you were not, but you still stood up, facing the soldier, “What do you need?”

“Could you kindly come with me to the warehouse? I need someone to inspect the weapons before we head out tomorrow.”

Wordlessly, you follow the construct. Your mind swims in a hazy sea of doubts and self depreciation. Should you leave this place? Go back to Babylonia? You are still welcome there, last time you checked. But the people...

It didn't take a while before you both arrived at the destination. Stepping inside the dark warehouse, you failed to notice that the door behind you closed. As you ran to pry it open, from the corner of your eyes, you saw a lone light shine in the middle of the dark warehouse.

It's Watanabe.

All of your anger rushes to your brain. Your legs move quicker, however, sprinting to reach out to the estranged man.

“You selfish little-”

“[Y/N]-”

Anything Watanabe says is fast, but your reflexes are faster. You held onto his arms, your tears of anger flowing as you cried out.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I know, I know-”

“Do you know how sad and angry I am at you? For leaving me with no answers?”

Watanabe does not answer. He lets you speak.

“Why? What did I do wrong? Why are you ignoring me?”

“I am aware, yes.” He answers, sorrowful, “I am sorry for treating you that way, [Y/N]. I know I shouldn't have done that, but my actions hurt you instead.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Watanabe doesn't answer. Instead, he reaches out to cup your cheeks, genuine sadness reflecting in his expression.

“I have been thinking. And I made up my mind.”

He caresses your cheeks with such reverence, it almost makes you melt. “...being away from you is so cruel. I wanted to make such a heavy decision, to leave you so you could be with another human, but I realized that I was just like you— I would be angry, too.”

Watanabe leans down, your forehead touching, “I want to be greedy for you, [Y/N]. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Suddenly, you were aware of the weight of your words from earlier. You weren't mad; you were devastated. Should this man, the love of your life, leave you, what becomes of you, then?

“Watanabe...”

You tug on his collar, whispering, “Don't go. Kiss me, please.”

Kissing Watanabe really is a surprise. It's fulfilling, in a way that completes you like a puzzle, his warm lips on yours. You love him just as much as he loves you, perhaps more— it's agonizing, it's too much, yet you crave for him; he is all you have. When he reluctantly pulls away, he whispers your name.

The lights of the warehouse turn on. And behind him, a dazzling display of flowers and pictures are shown.

“What-”

“I know it's not much, unlike the luxuries in Babylonia,” Watanabe kneels down, the glittering stone on the engraved jewelry in his hand, “But this is all from every corner of my heart; I love you, my [Y/N]. Please accept my proposal.”

You couldn't hold your tears anymore— from anger, they turned into immense joy. The answer has long been spoken.

“Marry me, my [Y/N].”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Noan: Arca

Kissing Noan is sweet.

Little kisses and noises of joy as you take breaks in between your book reading. It's his warm hand on top of yours, the other busy flipping through the pages. Noan's voice is a soothing lullaby, a gentle lull as he reads the passages for you.

“It's quite ironic,” Noan breaks away from the book, putting it aside as he brushes away the hair covering your face, “I thought you wanted me to read to you.”

There you were, comfortably laying on his lap, watching him with tired eyes. Slightly pouting, you weakly tugged on his scarf, “Noan, why did you stop...”

“My lap isn't very comfortable to sleep in. Let's move you back to your base.”

“Nooo,” you stubbornly shook your head, trying not to let Noan stand, “Finish reading the book, please? You're almost at the exciting part...”

Sighing, Noan picks up the book. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, one of the books that caught Noan's attention. Driven by your immense curiosity and how Noan was itching to read the story, judging by its summary, you thought it was a nice idea to let him read to you. It's hitting two birds with one stone!

“I don't get how you're so interested in the book,” Noan asks, flipping back to the page where he left, “You're already falling asleep.”

You don't have the heart to tell him you've already read it while you were still in the F.O.S. “Well, I think the concept is neat.”

“The concept of a man who has the body parts of dead people off killing people just to appease his creator?”

You shrugged, “I mean...”

Noan laughs, fingers idly drifting and drawing circles on your cheek, “Just tell me that you're just doing this because you think that I'm interested in it.”

“Are you not?” You turned to catch brown eyes looking at you with mirth.

“In a way, yeah.”

You pondered for a bit, trying to remember the contents of the book. Lifting your hand to cup Noan's cheeks, you huffed, “Y'know, you remind me a bit of the monster.”

Quickly catching yourself with your words (to which Noan laughs), “I mean, minus the killing. Wait, no, I mean-”

“Okay, okay, something related to that?”

“Yes, that.” You grinned, “the monster wasn't supposed to mean any harm. He simply wanted the attention and love from his creator.”

Your lover, in a way, was similar to the monster of the book. Rebuilt and revived, nearly as a killing machine. But does a killing machine have to look this beautiful in the hazy afternoon glow? Noan's lips parted for a bit, before pursing them. Lifting your head, you snuck in a short kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“You're similar yet different from the monster, Noan.” You murmured, closing your eyes as you inhaled his smell, “Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity and ruin.”

Noan chuckles, lightly squeezing your cheeks, “and you tell me you've never read the book before-”

“I didn't disagree, didn't I?”

“Hmm...”

“Noan,” you whispered, “Unlike Frankenstein's story, you are never feared, nor despised.”

You kissed Noan. It's sweet— the taste of the cookies you gave, the herbal tea; his lips that were made to kiss yours, to fit; and Noan, who went through too much, was yours to protect forevermore.

“You are loved, even more than your creator.”

When you pull away, deep red tinted his cheeks and ears, which made you laugh. “Well, Noan?”

“Mm...I should stop reading the book since you already know-”

“Keep going, please?” You purred, “I like you reading to me.”

“...mh, fine, you're lucky I like you.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Roland: Flambeau

Kissing Roland is, well, comedic.

He's laughing; the crescendo plays a melodic tune, as he plays his role. Your lover is a clown at this point, laughing manically with every step he takes.

But you love him anyway. You love your clown.

“Roland, dear,” you giggle, “Remind me again what's my role?”

He pauses, before approaching you. “Mi amor,” Roland reaches out to your hand, kissing it, “You are the lead of this play!”

As he continues to play his role, you are sitting in front of him, on a fancy chair. For Valentine's, you half-expected Roland to join the theatre, however, he was here in front of you— with only you as the audience and apparently the lead as well.

“What do I do?”

“Sit prettily there,” Roland winks, “That's your role.”

“Alright. Do I still get compensated?”

“Hush, the climax of this story is now nearly in full bloom.”

With a crisp spin, Roland turns to face you, the spotlight hitting every nice angle he had. In his hand, a single, beautifully blooming rose.

“Mi amor, my love, my light,” Roland began his monologue, “Though it has been a very long journey and story, here we are, still alive.”

Ah, you realized this scene now. The first proper confession.

Roland walks to you, despite his clownish appearance, he genuinely had a sweet smile on his face. “Damned by those who defy our circumstances; from this day forward, I am yours, as much as you are mine.”

He looks at you, with gentle hands holding your cheek, “What do you say, mi amor?”

In the original story, you ran away out of fear. But you were in a new scenario with him now. Smiling, you dragged him to you with his shirt, “Hmm, sounds missing.”

You wink at Roland, “Ah, I know now.”

Without a warning, you closed the gap in between your lips. Roland eases into you easily; grasping at hands, responding to your move. It's still soft, his lips that make you dream of oceans and theatre plays— it makes you want more.

But Roland pulls away, chuckling, “Well, that certainly wasn't part of the script.”

“You kept missing the cues,” you stuck your tongue out, “I merely filled in the gaps.”

“That's my girl,” Roland praises, “My perfect muse, my perfect actress.”

Comedic, in a way that it's the perfect timing. You leaned further to kiss him more.

“Mm, I still have a few ideas you can add to your script.”

Roland's hand in your hips tightened, mirroring your smile, “Do tell, we should execute it afterwards.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Noctis: Indomitus

Kissing Noctis is wild.

In how he holds you effortlessly in one hand. You grasp where your hands could reach, but you could only breathe in. In how Noctis's voice sends shivers. A melody that echoes so long.

His lips are begging to be with you. It's almost painful.

“[Y/N], [Y/N],” Noctis whines, “Please, let me touch you.”

“We are in a public area, Noctis,” you whisper, aware of his creeping fingers on your pants, “Mmh, it's not just me...”

Your lover was supposed to be a grown man, but who knew his neediness could make him such a needy child?

“Please, please, I promise it won't take long,” He groaned as his fingers rubbed your thighs, “I'll be very quick.”

Sighing, you try to look around you. Making sure that no one else could see, you pulled Noctis closer, lips mere inches away from one another.

“Be quick, okay?”

And you trust Noctis. Kissing him is wild— as if asking to be breathed back to life, he kisses you with such fervor. Never minding touchy hands, it's so hot that you unconsciously opened the buttons on your shirt. Noctis loves hard and harder, the beating of his heart a testament. His tongue on yours, hands everywhere else.

“Thank you,” he cries out, making you throb, “I owe you so much...”

“How about pushing it past my limits today, Noctis?”

Without a word, Noctis slips into you for one more stolen kiss. “You have my word, then, [Y/N].”

Writing this half asleep HAHAHAHAHSHSHA

— starry

#pgr #punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven imagines #pgr commandant #pgr global #pgr lee #pgr chrome #pgr chrome glory #pgr hyperreal #pgr wanshi #pgr kamui #pgr camu #pgr watanabe #pgr noan #pgr roland #pgr noctis #pgr valentines

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unhappy-last-resort · 2 months

Text

There's Barnyard Grass Growing in Your Garden

Warnings: yandere themes

A/N: This is a drabble that got long enough to warrant being titled, I guess. I have two ideas for how I want yandere Noan to be, this is one of them. I'm still feeling his character out, so I'm gonna have to write more platonic yandere Noan to see what sticks

Not edited and the title is inspired by his valentines story.

You trusted him, that's why you didn't mind how physically close you were to each other. Why you didn't mind him partially laying on you, gently petting your cheek with the back of his finger.

You trusted him, so you didn't care that your pajamas were a little thin and that your door was locked. You weren't uncomfortable that you're alone together in the dead of night, conversations carried by little whispers and occasional giggles.

You trusted him, so you ignored the odd glint in his eye that would appear from time to time. You didn't find it strange that his attention was always solely on you when you're together, you thought it was sweet and endearing.

He's genuine, pure, sweet, and gentle. That's how you saw him, how you always saw him. You were determined to give your all to help him achieve his dreams, especially for all the ways he's been an incredible friend to you. Sometimes, you wonder if you really deserve to have someone like him as a friend. It made you wish he would lean on you more, but he would always brush you off with an awkward, yet gentle smile and softly spoken words of assurance that he's alright.

Since he wouldn't open up to you more yet, you opted instead to make sure time was always made available for him, no matter what. That's how you got here, laying on your bed with his wrist tracker that was disabled long ago sitting on your nightstand, partially caged in his arms as part of his torso rested on yours while making sure not to crush your delicate body.

His nose gently pressed into the skin of your neck, breathing you in as his arms wrapped around you tightly, like you might disappear if he doesn't hold you close. Lazily, you return the gesture, wrapping your arms around his body and pulling him into your embrace.

You two stayed like that for a while in silence, nothing but your breathing and his to fill the air around you.

"You don't know how much I missed you..." He muttered into your skin before placing a kiss on the side of your neck so light that you didn't seem to notice it at all.

"I missed your voice, your giggles, your expressions...the world feels a little more dull when you're not around." He whispers, pulling himself away from your neck so he could see your face more clearly. He would do anything for you, anything to keep you safe and happy. If he was saying this a few months ago, he might've been embarrassed. Too paranoid of rocking the boat and shattering his relationship with you, but now? He couldn't care less. He would stay by your side no matter what. Even if you push him away, it's okay, because he'll always look after you and he'll always be there to pick you up when you fall. He came to this conclusion after many nights and days going back and forth with himself if he's allowed to feel this way towards someone, if it's wrong to care about someone like this.

Your squirming brings him back to reality, a bashful smile on your lips. "Noan, it's embarrassing when you say things like that..." You mumble, fiddling with the collar of your pajama shirt as a distraction for yourself.

Cute. You were so cute sometimes, it made him want to hold you tightly and keep you somewhere safe. He won't let himself do that though, even though the world may not deserve you, you don't deserve to be deprived of it.

"It's the truth. You have a greater impact on others than you realize." He smiles softly and lightly pokes your nose with his finger, eliciting little bubbles of embarrassed giggles from you. Each one burning themselves into his M.I.N.D.

Sometimes, he wishes he was still human, but being a construct allowed him to be able to see things that he would've missed as a human, and now he can truly fight to protect what he loves even if he's not the best at it. Honestly, if it wasn't for you...he's not sure he could bear the scrutiny he's placed under at every waking moment.

He tries to be grateful, to be patient, he really does...but it's hard not to be bitter about it sometimes. If he was truly alone in this, he may not have given up, but he would certainly be more jaded. However, he's not alone anymore.

He has you. He has your voice in his heart and your warmth seeping into his skin. You're here, relaxed in his arms, talking freely and showing him things you never show anyone else, not even your own squad members sometimes. He's grateful for that, and he'll always cherish these moments.

Even though you are, admittedly, very naive. You don't seem to think about how your trust in him might backfire, about how he might be able to use what he knows about you to his advantage. He knows that if you were to find out how he feels about you, if you saw what the sketchbook you gave him has become, you would most likely run away. Perhaps even be afraid of him, the thought makes him want to shudder, but he suppresses it, not wanting to interrupt your rambling about some argument Asimov and Celica had about healthy caffeine intake.

He takes a breath and pushes his thoughts aside. Right now, the most important thing is enjoying you and your company. He'll make sure you don't find out anything about himself that might upset you.

As you recount recent events to him, you don't seem to notice his hold on you being a little tighter, or mind the borderline obsessive glint in his amber eyes as he rests his chin on your chest.

Right. He smiles. What you don't know won't hurt you.

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