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quimichi · 6 months

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↳ ❝FIRST KISS WITH THE GENSHIN BOYS❝

warnings: slight NSFW - MDNI, some angst (Freminet, Mika & Xiao), cringe, not proof-read cause damn its long

summary: your first kiss with the genshin boys, yes even the harbingers and Mika, x Creator!Reader

characters: all genshin guys + harbingers

word count: 11.618

Aether

Aether's breath catches in his throat as your hand lands on his face. He doesn't look away from your eyes, his gaze still on yours as he takes in your touch with visible delight. He lets out a light, happy sigh as the sensation makes him shiver. Aether leans his face into your palm, relishing the touch. He seems to melt, and with a small whine, he nuzzles the palm of your hand. This makes him smile softly — just one touch and he's already gone to heaven. He closes his eyes, leaning happily into your touch.

"You know I love you...right?" Is what you say, carefully but you want to know. Aether's eyes slowly open as his head remains in your palm. His expression is soft, content, and he looks at you with almost desperate reverence. "Y-Yes, my grace," he whispers hoarsely, "I know." Aether continues to lean into your palm, pressing his face against it. His eyes remain closed, and he just leans into you as he sights loudly and contentedly. The sound is adorable, as is the way he so freely gives himself over to the touch of your hand.

"I am yours," he murmurs, the conviction in his voice clear. "Yours..." he whispers, his lips brushing against your palm. Aether seems to melt into you as your second hand touches his other cheek, his mind foggy and his eyes half-lidded in bliss. His breath catches in his throat; it isn't a breath of surprise, or one of fear, but one of anticipation — of sweet and tender surrender.

Your boy, willingly submitting to your touch; giving himself to you. A soft whimper leaves Aether's mouth, just mere inches away from yours, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Your Grace..." he whispers hoarsely, his words soft and trembling. You lean in, slowly your lips brush against his parted ones. Aether's entire body seems to vibrate with excitement; his lips part slightly at the contact and a soft, happy moan escapes them. He gently wraps his arms around you, leaning in closer for the kiss, as if giving himself to your caresses is a privilege he has waited an eternity for.

The moment is sweet and tender, as if the two of you share something that nobody else will ever be able to know. Like the whole world is reduced, right now, to just the two of you. It is like a dream to Aether. His body quakes slightly as you pull away, his tongue gliding over his lips hungrily, and the breath leaving his mouth as if he just had a sip of divine nectar. He doesn't let go of you, though; as he gazes up at you with a warm blush across his cheeks, his arms remain firmly wrapped around you, as if he wants to make sure you have no intention of letting go.

"You are divine," he says softly, almost as if he's praying. "I'll never forget this, our first kiss ever shared...."

Albedo

For a moment, Albedo seems to struggle to find a way to express the depth of his feelings. He hesitates until he finally forces himself to speak. "I... love you, Your Grace. Immensely. I would do anything for you. I would give you everything, if it were mine to give."

His words are barely above a whisper. He averts his gaze. There's the softest of smiles on his lips as he closes his eyes for a moment. He's not sure what to say after that. Would anything be enough? Albedo is silent for a moment before he nods.

"If you wish."

Without so much as a blink, Albedo has dropped to his knees in front of you. No longer is there a doubt in his mind nor a shred of hesitation in his stance. There's only the smallest of smiles on his lips. He gazes up at you as if you contain every dream he has ever had in his thousands of years of existence. He wants nothing more than to be by your side, whether it be your feet, your knees, or your lap-- all of them will do just fine.

"The only thing you should give me is a kiss." You sneakly said, half jokingly half serious. Albedo nods softly. Without a word, he lifts his head to close the gap between the two of you. Slowly then quickly, his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss. His fingers tangle through your hair, gently massaging you. In that moment, he does not concern himself with his dignity, nor of his prestige, nor the fact that he is nothing compared to you.

The only thing that matters is you and the warm feeling that settles in his chest. It's as though he is breathing you in. His first kiss, your first kiss, together. Albedo blinks as you two part. Then he smiles softly, as though this is something he's dreamed of for so long he forgot it was a possibility.

"Our first kiss," he whispers, the words almost inaudible. There's a flush on his cheek as he looks down, remembering the feel of your lips on his. His eyes dart between you and the floor, trying to collect himself.

In a moment, he finds himself lost in your eyes. He wants nothing more than to kiss you again. And who would you be to deny him.

Al-Haitham

Al-Haitham wraps his arms around you, sinking into you. His body shakes, the heat of your skin sinking through his veins.

He's breathless. Speechless. All of that changes when you snuggle up to him, pressing your body against his. He's completely still, frozen in shock and delight. He can do nothing but lean into your embrace. The heat from your body sends his heart soaring.

There's nothing else he wants now, except this... right here...And maybe a kiss. The first one to be exact. Al-Haitham pulls you closer, snuggling harder. His body leans into you, clinging like a drowning man to a raft. He pulls your head closer to his shoulder, burying your face in his neck. Your breathing makes his skin tingle. Your arms around him make every inch of him pulse with energy.

Al-Haitham squeezes tighter, burying his face into your hair. His lips press against your head in a silent kiss. His breath hitches as he feels your lips against his neck. He fights the urge to sink into you, to disappear completely within your embrace.

He is utterly gone. Your touch is pure warmth throughout his body, a constant hum that is as soothing as the sea. He wants more. He needs more.

One kiss is not enough.

He turns his head, kissing you on the lips in the same way, gentle.

He can't let go. Not yet. Never.

He kisses you deeply, pouring his heart and soul into the act. All he knows is that you deserve every drop of love he feels for you. He wants you to feel what he does and nothing more. He kisses your lips softly, tenderly, his kisses filled with affection and the pure, unadulterated love he has for you.

He needs you.

His kisses are deep and sensual, and his mind is a blur. All he knows is that this is right.

You are right...

Ayato

Ayato's smirk turns into a sly, almost mischievous grin. Once again, he takes a gentle bite out of your neck, the sharp press of his teeth sending a shudder through your body. It's hard not to lean into his touch, but you try— it isn't always wise to let Ayato's advances get the best of you. You know him more than he thinks, and you know he's just trying to provoke a response. That's always been his forte; his way of flirting.

"Such a mean tease..." you breath. His smirk widens as his teeth nibble at the skin on your neck, Ayato's body curling around yours and one of his hands settling on your thigh. "I could say the same," he whispers against your skin, his voice low and sultry in a way that should be illegal. Ayatos mouth presses to yours, his tongue sweeping across your lower lip. He holds the passionate kiss for a moment, enjoying the way your body presses back.

He pulls away after a few moments, and looks down on you with his signature smirk. "I hope that wasn't too much," he says with a teasing bite to his words. "I wouldn't want our first kiss to be bad for you, dear."

"Overwhelmed" isn't quite the word to describe it either Instead, there's butterflies in your stomach and fire on your skin as Ayato presses a gentle kiss to your collarbone and nibbles on the soft skin. It's difficult not to lean into him or to moan; he's just too good.

"I'm still trying to figure you out," he whispers, as if reading your mind. He takes your hand in his; though his tone is teasing, there's nothing but raw honesty in his eyes.

"My Grace, you are a mystery to me. But this is exactly why i love you...I got plenty of time figuring you out."

Baizhu

Words fail him.

Baizhu lets out a soft sigh as your fingers run along his cheek. His eyes are glued to you as he blinks slowly in your presence.

He doesn't seem to notice the fact that his heart has been beating quicker than usual since you touched him, or that the faint scent of you lingers in his nostrils. He is lost in you, and only you. Your thumb brushes against his lower lip, causing him to take a sharp breath. His entire body tenses. Not even a breath later, he's letting his head fall against your shoulder.

His lips are parted as he draws in ragged sighs. His eyes still hold no trace of doubt or disdain. They seem to be glazed over just in your very presence. "Is there... anything else... Your Grace... wishes for?" he whispers.

Baizhu's voice is hoarse and low, almost as if he's afraid to speak louder than a whisper out of fear of breaking this peaceful spell.

"Yeah..." Baizhu's eyes widen in surprise, but he leans in just as your lips meet his. He seems to freeze in place, neither of you moving at all for what feels like eternity as you continue to kiss.

His lips are soft against yours, his breath hitching as he kisses you slowly. But then, his free hand moves to cup the back of your head. He pulls you in with new energy, as though his lips have grown hungry for you to taste him like this. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer still. Baizhus entire being seems to pulse at the kiss, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling your face against his as if afraid to lose you. Afraid that all those years of yearing for you will dissappear like nothing. That his patience and work didn't pay off. With every gentle stroke of your lips against his, his breath grows sharp and ragged.

His lean body shifts as he opens up his mouth against yours once more. Your tongues dance together as he kisses you deeply, his lips parted to let in your breath.

"Bai-..zhu" His body jerks. Even you speaking his name is enough to break his focus. His tongue pulls away from yours, and his breath catches in his throat. His fingers still clutch at your hair, almost as though he's forgotten how to let go.

He tries to speak, but for a moment, his words seem trapped in his throat. It takes him many, many moments before he manages to speak again.

"Yes...?" he whispers. "We...we should've done this sooner" you say out of breath, this completely made your brain stop working for a good minute. Who knew Baizhu could take someones breath away with only one kiss.

"Yes." He chuckles, "We should've...now...shall we continue?"

Bennett - aged up

His eyes go wide as your fingers begin to softly caress his face; but his expression slowly softens as he looks into your eyes. Suddenly, he feels utterly safe. Like, anything done withing your presence will forever keep him unharmed.

His breathing grows sharp and heavy, as he finds himself unable to keep still, but he forces himself to control his movements, his body trembling with pent-up anticipation. Is this going where he thinks it is? After a moment, Bennett whispers, "You're so beautiful," his voice hoarse and barely audible. He gazes up at your face, his cheeks flushed and his expression rapturous. He seems almost drunk with bliss; every word you speak feels like a gentle caress to him, and he can hardly believe this moment is real.

Bennett's eyes begin to slowly close, as if he's allowing himself to slip into an almost dreamlike trance; allowing himself to feel you and your hands so thoroughly, and to worship you with his touch at the same time. You can't help but softly kiss him. Bennett's eyes snap open at the sensation of your lips against his, and he instinctively leans forward, embracing you deeply. His hands clutch the fabric of your robes, and tears begin to well in his green irises.

His embrace begins to tighten further, as if he's holding on for dear life, terrified that you'll slip away again if he doesn't keep you close.

"I'm-I'm so sorry i shouldn't have-" you hastly apologize. You dont know what came over you, and although you know the kiss was accepted, it was still wrong. "You have nothing to apologize for... " Bennett whispers, his voice breathless and his expression soft with adoration.

"In fact..." he continues, his voice growing more confident, "I'd like to have another kiss, please." He looks at you, his voice cracking slightly and his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Capitano

Capitano drops to his knees, lowering himself until his forehead is pressed against the ground. His arms go limp at his sides, the only movement coming from his shallow breathing.

His eyes snap shut, and he does not dare to open them. "I am yours," he whispers without prompt. His breath is warm against the marble, his words muffled by the floor. The muscles in his legs ache. His head is pressed against the cold stone, but the cold is a comfort. He knows that he deserves to be beneath you. Like no one else.

"You're deserving of a kiss, come here and lets share our first." His eyes fly open, his lips already parted. He stares up at your face, his emotions raging inside of him. His breath is heavy as he swallows. He doesn't dare to ask for permission, but it's written all over his face that he yearns to experience this moment.

He is not allowed to speak up unless it is to obey. His eyes plead. Please, he silently begs.

Capitano stands up and a breath leaves him as your lips press gently against his. You take his first kiss as a matter of course, never bothering to ask if this is what he wanted, because his expression told you enough.

His heart flutters, his cheeks flushed as he pulls your head closer. He kisses you back, his hands holding you close to him. His lips move against yours in sync, his breath coming back to him. It's not even a question. Of course, he's going to kiss you.

He needs to kiss you.

Your lips are soft against his own slightly chapped ones. Capitanos breath catches in his throat, his mind whirling. For a moment, he forgets where he is and why he is here.

It's just him and you.

He holds you even closer, his lips brushing against your neck. He takes in your scent and swallows it down. His heart is thundering in his ears as his fingers dig into your skin.

His heart is racing against his own will. He wants this more than anything in the world. He wants you.

And he has you.

Childe

"You deserve a reward."

His chin tilts upward in hope, his gaze focused on you. "Your Grace is too kind." He doesn't move, and his eyes are fixed on your face. "May I know what reward I might receive? Is it in my power to accept?"

You find that he is almost trembling, and as he looks up at you, his cheeks flutter. "Would you accept a kiss?" His breath catches in his throat, and he doesn't seem to know what to do with himself. His cheeks become a bright red. Childe seems to be on the verge of tears.

"I, um... your kiss... I... yes, Your Grace. I would be honored, but... I'm not sure my lips would be worthy." His voice is breathy, but it sounds sincere. He truly believes this, and it seems he fears that his lips are too rough or too calloused to be worthy of you.

You can only roll your eyes at him again, he's never going change, wil he? So what is left to do was to pull him in out of the sudden and give him his well deserved reward. Childe flinches when you pull him closer, but not because he is resisting you. Rather, it appears that he is completely enraptured by you and your every move. His cheeks are glowing bright, bright pink, and his eyes are fluttering shut.

He melts into you as your lips press firmly against his. His mouth is supple and his lips soft. He kisses you back, eagerly and hungrily. His hands clutch your jacket for support. It seems that you have completely stolen his heart and soul. He gasps when you let go, his eyes fluttering open to find yours. His expression is agape. "Your Grace," he whispers. His breaths are ragged. He touches his lips, like he's trying to feel something after you let go.

He blinks, as if he's still seeing flashes of stars in his vision. His lips are slightly swollen from the kiss, and his blue eyes are bright, like sapphires.

"That... was glorious." His voice is a whisper, "Do it again."

Chongyun - aged up

Chongyun is curled against you, his head resting gently against your chest— his breathing is slow and regular, like the beating of a heart, and his limbs are wrapped tightly around you in a hug.

He is relaxed, but he is still intensely aware that you are the only with him right now. His heart races in his chest— having your warmth and comfort and nearness— makes him happy. Chongyun trembles at the contact of your lips against his forehead, and a soft whimper leaves his mouth. He leans forward slightly, pressing his face tighter against your chest. This is all he could ever want. You are the only one that matters.

Chongyun speaks softly, his voice quiet and trembling, "All I want is to be in your arms for all eternity, Your Grace." "I don't mind that..." and to seal the deal, you give him a gentle kiss. Chongyun responds eagerly, letting his lips linger against yours. His entire body trembles and blushes at your touch, and he can feel his lips burn with a fierce fire.

Your lips press against his with a desperate, almost painful tenderness; he wants to give you all that his lips can offer, and for once, he doesn't mind the awkwardness that comes with it. There are no insecurities, only heat, only fire, only you.

All that was missing in his life was your lips, and now, he will never let go.

Cyno

At your command, he does as told. Cyno sits down beside you, not needing any further instruction than that. He sits facing you, so you can see him in all his glory. You are everything to him. And so is he to you, and you're about to show him.

If he had his way, he would never leave your side again. He would stay by your side forever and make sure you would never feel unloved again. Cynos and yours connection is one of a kind after all. And he is deeply aware of your loneliness. His breath hitches in his chest as you take his hand in yours. He looks at you, his eyes gazing up at you with reverence and love that would make the moon itself envious.

His every breath stops in his chest at the contact of your lips against his knuckles. His hand trembles in yours. He leans into the touch, wanting nothing more than to be with you.

He turns his hand so that the inside is facing upward, hoping you will kiss it again. But instead you place his hand against your cheek.

"Cyno...kiss me please." His mind seems to shut off. All that matters is you and your question. He leans forward, and as he does, he lets his hair fall forward to curtain his face from view. Then his lips are soft against yours— a gentle pressure, followed by a light brushing of skin before he pulls away again.

His breath is short, quick. He blinks, seeming shocked that he just did that, but the surprise quickly melts away as he leans in again. His kisses only grow in intensity. He lingers there, his mouth against yours, breath mingling as if he wishes to absorb you, to make you his, before he reluctantly pulls away again.

He whispers something as if it has come from his soul; something only you could ever hear.

"I love you from my head tomatoes."

"....."

Dainsleif

Dainsleif lowers himself to the ground before you, the very image of respect and devotion. He sits perfectly poised, his hands clasped together neatly in his lap. All the weight of eternity seems to rest upon his shoulders, as if even in this moment he is a protector, a guardian. Despite this, his heart races at your command. He feels alive for the first time in weeks, as if everything he's ever wanted is finally here.

You.

"I missed you Dain..." you pout, "you were gone for weeks." "I'm here now." Dainsleif smiles warmly. "I'm here with you, my everything." His words are sweet as honey on the tongue, but there is no mistaking the passion behind them. "Were you lonely?" He asks. There's a slight note of concern in his voice. Dainsleif could not bear the thought that you suffered even a little because he wasn't by your side constantly.

"Yes!" Dainsleif's smile widens as you race towards him, one hand lifted slightly, as if ready to receive your impact. As soon as you reach an embrace, he wraps both arms around you, pulling you close as if there's nothing else in the world.

Dainsleif doesn't mind the pressure of your grasp. If anything, he seems to welcome it. Your embrace is the sweetest thing he has ever known.

He holds you tight, face buried against your shoulder. His breathing quickens slightly with joy. Your soft lips press against Dainsleif's and for a moment, time itself seems to slow.

This is where he belongs. This is where he was always meant to me. His lips press against yours, and he kisses you passionately, as if it might be his last kiss ever. The world could be ending and all Dainsleif cares about in this moment is you. He melts into your kiss, his breath ragged as if he has been drowning and has finally found air.

He's home.

Diluc

Diluc sits across from you, gazing at you over a candlelit dinner. "Shall I pour some grape juice, Your Grace?" he asks, already reaching for the bottle beside his place setting. He wants you to be comfortable. After all, you deserve only the best.

"Yes please." Diluc pour you the perfect glass. There is no room for error when he is pouring you your grape juice, and the dark ruby liquid pours without so much as a drop spilled. He was to shy to mention that this was created with you in mind..."For our love." His words are more than a toast.

They're a prayer.

He raises his glass again, drinking a little of the red liquid. His eyes are on you, watching closely as you match his sip, then watching the way your throat swallows as you enjoy the drink. You're everything to him.

But one thing is missing, and you can't help but get it for yourself. His heart skips a beat as you lean across the table, his lips parted and breath quickening in anticipation. It's only the two of you at this table. You're his entire world. And all that matters is your love.

The beverage forgotten, his lips find yours, and Diluc's body melts at your touch. He is nothing but love in this moment. "I love you," he whispers as he pulls back.

His forehead rests against your own. "Please— tell me you love me too, Your Grace." He waits for your answer, his heart on his sleeve, open to you.

He wants more than anything to be loved by you in return. He waited his whole life for this moment, please make his dream come further true.

"Of course I love you too silly."

Dottore

His lips curl into a sly smile. "I was certain you would be pleased." Dottores arm drapes over your shoulder as he shifts in his seat, bringing your body closer to him. His fingers run along your hair as he stares into your eyes. "And now I'm here to please you," he whispers. Your stomach flutters at the words, and he seems to realize it, because his eyes light up. His fingers trail down your arms. "I can show you what I mean, if you'd like."

"Please do..." You're breathless, he took the air out of your lungs by just his words alone.

His lips curl and he closes the gap between you. His breath is hot against your face, and it makes your heart beat faster. The tip of his mask caressing your cheek. "I know you wish to be worshipped," he murmures. His red eyes seem to dance in the light. "What I can offer you cannot be described with words," he whispers. He leans down slowly, letting the sensation of his lips on your skin sink in.

"But that doesn't mean I can't show you exactly what I mean." Dottore's eyes flicker as his lips brush yours, lingering just long enough to let the sensation sink in. He kisses you hungrily, his fingers gripping you tighter, as if terrified to let you go. His lips are soft, but he keeps his hold tight. His breaths are quick and shallow.

He pulls away finally, but his mouth is parted slightly and his eyes are still on yours. He seems breathless, eager, completely devoted. And maybe a tiny bit horny too.

"Shall we continue?" He leans in, whisper in your ear, voice raspy, "or was it to handle for my little grace~?" His hand slips under your clothes, brushing against the skin underneath.

Freminet

A shudder runs through Freminet, and he trembles. It seems like he's trying to resist crying, but the painful emotions are overwhelming him. He wants to bury his face in your chest— but he doesn't dare to move. He just stares straight ahead, his breath hitched and his expression so full of pain.

"Please, Your Grace," Freminet finally whispers, breath hitching, fighting back tears. "Please...make it stop. I...I-can't handle it anymore..."

He wants you to do something— but he doesn't know what he wants. He only knows he needs you now, more than anything. Usually in moments like these he would handle it alone deep down in Fontaines waters, but he found other comfort. Freminet shifts as you offer your arms, his eyes locked on yours. He wants to feel the warmth and safety of your embrace, and the only thing that stops him is the fear of disrespecting you or angering you in some way.

His muscles tense, his heart beating faster and his throat catching on every breath. But the feeling of your open arms and your eyes is just too much. Slowly, almost tentatively, he rises, crosses the distance between you and him, and falls into your embrace. Freminet buries his head in your chest, his sobs muffled into your neck. He leans his entire weight against you, needing your warmth and your arms to soothe him.

He clings to you, his muscles tense and trembling. His whole body shakes as he sobs wildly, clinging to you, needing you— needing to feel safe and loved.

"Don't worry, you will have me with you forever." Freminets eyes fly open like a struck deer. He stares at you in the pale light, tears rolling from his eyes. He trembles against your embrace and your words.

The kiss is all it takes for him to melt. He leans into your touch, trembling in your arms. There's a faint flush on his cheeks and he leans into your touch, his body soft and relaxed.

Then Freminet lifts his eyes to yours, his pupils flared. He leans towards you again. His lips are already parted, his eyes burning with emotion. He wants to kiss you again.

You're the only one he trusts 100%.

Gorou

Gorou leans into your touch as his breathing softens; he seems completely and utterly at ease. He closes his eyes as he takes in the sweet embrace, and his mind drifts to thoughts of other things he would like to do with you. Like kiss you

He nuzzles into your lap, content to be held but also eager to please you. His tail wags slightly, he seems at ease withing your presence.

"You must be tired, hm?" You whisper as you gently scratch his ears. "No, my grace. You... You are my energy," Gorou whispers softly, his eyes still closed, his thoughts wandering with curiosity.

"I haven't felt this alive in ages. I don't want to leave you, not yet at least. It may not seem like it, but I'm wide awake."

Gorou opens his eyes and glances up at you as he tries to maintain that aloof expression, but if you look closely enough, perhaps you'll see the slightest of blushes spread across his cheeks. Gorou's eyes widen in surprise at the contact of your devine lips against his, but he doesn't back down. His heart threatens to leave his chest and he smiles into the kiss, his hands coming up to caress your face as he savors this moment of first-time passion. If you could hear the thoughts in his head, you'd hear a silent scream of delight.

This was what he'd been waiting tons of years for, Gorou thinks, his mind racing with excitement as he eagerly returns the kiss, tail wagging excitedly.

Heizou

He leans back into your embrace, pressing himself into you. It's clear how comforting it is for him to be in such close proximity to you, his eyes closed and his chin on your shoulder. He seems utterly content to melt in your arms, his arms wrapped around your waist. He's so small in comparison to you, but so utterly precious. Heizou breathes heavily against your neck, his arms squeezing slightly as he kisses your skin. His fingers dance down the side of your neck and shoulders, his eyes gazing up at you lovingly from where they are tucked against your shoulder.

He continues to kiss you, gently nibbling at your neck as he does so. He seems determined to express as much affection as possible when he's so close to you. Heizou looks up at you softly as he gives you his first kiss; his fingers lightly brushing your cheek as he presses his lips to yours. His heart is pounding against his chest, adrenaline rushing through his limbs, and the rush of blood to his head makes it all the more difficult for him to concentrate.

His kiss is gentle and tender, and he lingers for a moment before pulling away to breathe some air. He looks up at you with eyes filled with love and adoration, the expression on his face clearly showing how much you mean to him. Heizou stays silent for a moment, his cheeks flushed and his heart still skipping a few beats. He bites his lip and looks away from you nervously.

“…that was my first kiss,” he says softly, as if admitting some sort of personal failure.

After a beat, he looks back at you directly again.

“…I hope you didn’t mind.”

"I'm so glad you trust me enough to share this with me." Heizou's cheeks deepen into a shade of red, if that is even possible. He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, his eyes staring at you nervously from beneath their lashes.

"Yes... I trust you enough to share it. I'm happy that it was you."

There's another long quiet pause as Heizou gathers his courage and gazes up at you. "…Can we do it again?" he asks.

Itto

He tells you everything.

Your presence makes him chatter endlessly, and he feels more alive when he is in your presence. He speaks about his day, and the antics he has been up to. He talks a lot about his gang members, and how proud he is to be their leader.

He speaks so much that he forgets to breathe and has to take a moment to catch it again. You notice him catching his breath more than once.

In his lap, you can feel his heartbeat. It's faster than usual. "Catch your breath, we don't want you fainting do we?" hes to adorable, acting more like a puppy than a oni sometimes. He tries. He tries to speak more quietly, to pace himself and not speak so fast. But just you sitting in his lap is making him so excited that he can't hold it back.

Your presence is overwhelming him, and he wishes to show you how happy you make him feel. Itto just wants you to know how much pleasure it brings him to be by your side.

Soon enough, he's about to lose his breath again, and you're not going to have it. With one quick motion your lips touch his to make him stop talking completely. There isn't a thought in his head anymore. When you kiss him, he closes his eyes and lets his head fall to the side slightly.

He is at your will, completely. The only feeling that surges within his body is the fire that's burning his cheeks, the heat in the bottom of his stomach, and the quickening of his heart.

No matter how much he wants to do something for you, he is helpless right now. Itto is in a state of utter bliss, and he feels like the weight that has been so heavy inside of him has been lifted.

"Whoa-! That was awesome your Grace! Of course you're gonna kiss the one and oni Arataki Itto hahaha! I have the best lips around, no one can compare to me. And i just kissed you! You just kissed me?! This is grea-"

"Itto shut up-"

Kazuha

Kazuha stares intently at you as you consume your tea, his gaze soft like sunlight in the middle of a dark night. With you, he is content. He seems hesitant to say anything first in fear of disturbing the peace he treasures so deeply. Instead, he sips his tea, glancing at you every now and then while keeping his body pointed away from your gaze.

It seems he's simply too embarrassed to look upon you directly, as if your beauty would blind him the moment your eyes meet.

"You know my taste Kazuha. Thank you for gifting me this tea." "Anything for you, Your Grace." The words are spoken so softly that it almost seems like a whisper.

Kazuha's eyes trail around the room but always seem to come back to you. He still seems to have trouble meeting your gaze, but it's undeniable that he's relaxed in your presence. He takes another sip of tea, nodding. "Anything else you need?"

"A kiss...Kazuha you have been gone for several weeks and I...I missed you." The tea seems to catch in Kazuha's throat as he glances at you. He almost flinches away from you, as if you've caught him red-handed. In reality, there is nothing he could be hiding. He is yours and only yours. His cheeks flare from pink to red, but he doesn't look away. He stares at you, almost hungrily.

"Your Grace..." His voice seems to catch in his throat and his body suddenly tenses up.

"May I...? May I please kiss you?"

You nod. Before you can say anything else, Kazuha leans in, meeting your lips almost desperately as he presses his body against yours. He seems hungry for your touch, as if he hasn't been able to eat in days; starved. At once, all tension and shyness melts away as Kazuha simply holds you close, his mouth moving like a hungry beast's.

His every move seems to be like that of a man famished and his lips against yours are like a man dying of thirst. He seems almost desperate in his need to prove your love to you. As you moan, he seems to become more energized. His lips move faster against yours. The force behind his kisses almost makes you worry he'll suck away your soul.

He whispers softly in between kisses, "Yours..."

Kaeya

The wound isn't major, but it bleeds enough to warrant attention. Kaeya watches in fascination as you patch the mark, his breath shallow. It's easy to tell how much he craves this attention from you.

"Thank you, Your Grace," he murmurs. He's not quite looking at you, but his eyes can't help but trace your lips as you tend to the wound. God how needy he is. Kaeya glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours. He can't help the feeling that he's trying to memorize your features: the lines in your face, the subtle pinkish hue on the skin of your lips, the dark lashes that grace your eyes. You're so close, close enough to kiss. He's not sure he can keep his eyes on you, but it's too much of an effort to look away.

"You should be more careful next time. You can't always run into danger like this...You worry me..." Kaeya only smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes. He knows he needs to be more cautious. He'll be more cautious.

"Next time," he mutters. "I will be more careful...Your Grace." He leans forward, making sure his promise reaches every fiber in your body. You have to believe him now.

Kaeya's kisses aren't quick. He lingers, making sure you're aware of his affection. You can feel his care in each touch, the way his fingers grip you as he kisses back. His desire for you is apparent, and the ferocity of his kisses only proves it. Time stops when you pull back. Kaeya's breathing is shaky, a smile lingering on his lips. He almost wishes you'd never stopped.

"I..." Kaeya trails off. He almost wonders if it's appropriate to say what he means to say, as it feels out of place somehow.

"Your Grace," he says softly, trying to hide the catch in his throat, "I love you."

The words feel like a foreign language coming from his mouth, but at the same time, it's something Kaeya has wanted to say since you first met.

"Oh, i know."

"Oh...."

Kaveh

"It's outstanding! The new room for studying in the library is...amazing. my words fail me!" "Really?" Kaveh brightens upon hearing this, and his heart skips a beat.

"Thank you, your Grace," he replies softly. He had worked very hard on that piece and he's delighted that you have noticed the effort he has put into it. "I just wanted to do a little different, i wasn't sure if everybody would like it but you and Nahida really helped my confidence..."

He smiles and looks up at you. "You deserve a reward!" Kaveh's breath catches in his throat at your words. All of his worries vanish the second that you mention a reward; he looks up at you eagerly, his gaze focused on you as if he were expecting magic.

"A reward?" he asks softly. "I—"

His breath grows deeper and his heart pounds faster at your promise of reward. A gift from you would be far more than he ever deserves, yet he would cherish it for all time.

"Come closer and get it~" kaveh complies instantly, scooting closer to you as he looks at you expectantly. His eyes are wide and fixed on you as his breathing grows louder. Whatever you're about to give him, he's excited for it. Kaveh's breath catches in his throat as you move your hand over to stroke his cheek, and he freezes. His lips part slightly as his breath deepens, but still he manages to hold back.

You give him a gentle, romantic kiss on the lips, and Kaveh feels the heavens shift. His whole life, all of his experience, every moment, and every emotion has built up to this moment. His heart hammers against his chest, his entire being is set aflame. The taste of your lips on his is a drug, one that he is now addicted to.

"Was the reward to your enjoyment?" What a stupid question, of course it was for him. You just like to tease. Kaveh's head spins for a moment, as he's left breathless by your kiss. He manages to blink several times, blinking away the tears in his eyes, and nods frantically.

"Y-Yes, your Grace. It was wonderful."

He licks his lips and gazes at you intently, his expression one of longing and adoration.

"I would like more rewards, please."

Lyney

"Aha! I see you're impressed, your Grace~" Lyney says cheerily. "You may be powerful, but I still have my tricks...tricks that might put a smile on your face. Would you like to see another?"

Lyney smiles cheerfully at you, "I hope the public will enjoy those tricks as much as you."

"Well... I'm nothing if not a showman. But before that, I should inform you; this magic trick of mine is a little... flashy," Lyney says with a bashful blush. "Would you still like to see it?"

He looks up at you eagerly, his tone a mix of anticipation and worry. He can tell you have no idea what's coming.

"Yes!" Before you can register what happened he dissappeared, you look around, he's nowhere to be seen. And then out of the sudden, poof! There he is beside you, giving you a gentle kiss. You're startled at first, but you quickly lean into the kiss, your cheeks growing hotter and your heart begin racing as you feel the soft weight of his lips against yours. The feeling sends your mind spinning, and even the tiniest sensation of Lyney's breath upon your cheek is enough to set your head spinning.

You lean back slightly from the kiss, a soft smile teasing the edges of your lips. "Lyney— you little scamp," you say in the tiniest, most adorable tone. "Was that really necessary?" He laughs lightly. "Absolutely."

You smile sweetly at him. "It was a lovely kiss, I must admit," you say with a small blush, still smiling at Lyney as he looks down at you with twinkling eyes. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," Lyney replies with a small smile, still glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as he fluffs up his feathers.

"Would you like to see another one of my tricks?" He asks, his tone playful.

Mika - aged up

"No need to be nervous, Mika" you giggle

Mika can't suppress a tiny, nervous laugh as he tries to relax in your presence. He's never been more self-conscious in his life, but he's willing to endure that if it means satisfying you.

Oh dear...they way they giggle...if they keep doing this i--might even blush.

His gaze flickers to your hand on his cheek. He considers nuzzling against you, before thinking better of it. He'd risk humiliating himself by doing something so bold— but if you were to touch him again, or even just look at him, he knows his composure would break and he'd become a trembling, needy mess.

"You're my favorite..." Your words strike him with a sharp impact. He freezes, his heart racing. In a breathless, raspy voice, Mika whispers, "Really, Your Grace?"

Your approval causes the tension to melt away from his face; it's now clear how much your words have affected him. "I don't deserve to be your favorite," he says, his voice shaking.

"I'm...nobody's favorite."

"But you're my favorite..." you lean in slowly, you don't want to startle him after all. He stares, frozen in place, as the realization of your intentions hits him. He's never kissed someone before— but he wants to kiss you. He has always wanted to kiss you.

His heart thunders in his chest as you bring your face closer, and his face glows bright. The world spins and time slows down, and suddenly the only thing that exists is the two of you, alone in a bubble of intimacy and trust.

As your faces meet, he hesitates. It's terrifying, but he wants it just as much as you do. He closes his eyes, and leans in. He touches his mouth to yours in a tender, careful kiss. His lips are soft and yielding, and he leans closer, wanting to be as close to you as possible. He kisses you again, the sensation of your lips making his head spin and his body tremble.

He can feel you smiling, almost laughing, in the way you kiss back. It feels like an intimate secret between the two of you— and in that moment, all he knows and wants is you.

He draws away, breathless and trembling.

He's your favorite...

Neuvillette

"You look tired..." "O-Oh, it's nothing serious, Your Gr-" Neuvilette's sentence is cut off. He glances up at your face. "Your Grace... I haven't slept in six days."

"SIX DAYS?" You can't help to be concerned for his health, his organs. Simply everything. Neuvillette flushes deeper, almost red enough to be mistaken for a tomato. "Y-Yes, Your Grace... I've hardly slept lately. You see, there has been much work to be done and-- I just, a-anyways, it's nothing to worry about. I'm not tired. Truly."

Yet, his eyelids seem heavy. There's almost a flicker of worry in his eyes. "Come here and take a nap, now!" "Y-Your Grace. I'm-" Before he can continue on, Neuvillette leans forward and presses his forehead against your chest. There's a moment of silence; only the rise and fall of your breaths breaking the stillness. His eyes are closed.

He seems so tired now. "Your Grace..." he whispers, already beginning to drift off. Neuvilette's eyelashes flutter over his shut eyes as he's kissed. For a second, he is confused at first, not quite knowing what happened to him. He would never admit it, not to himself, but something about your touch stirs his heart. His lips purse as if to let out some sort of soft noise, but it doesn't leave him; a single sigh escaping instead.

It seems he too enjoys your touch. He is not a stone. Neuvilette's lashes flicker over his eyes once more before he finally slips into a deep slumber.

(I am not proud of this one---)

Pantalone

"Oh....this coat...so beautiful! Thank you so much!" "I was worried… you might not like it. I did so much research, looking for the perfect fabric, to make sure the fit was perfect," he rushes to explain. He has been worrying all day; your smile, hearing your satisfaction with his gift is the greatest thing in the world. Its so unlike him but he's proud

"I'm glad you like it. It costed me a million Mora but it was worth it." A smile breaks out across his face, as if the sun itself has risen before him. Pantalone holds back a smile. This is a moment he has been waiting for. You put the coat on. You look absolutely stunning. The coat compliments your figure, your frame, and makes your complexion look radiant.

You don't even notice the heat that comes to Pantalone's face. All he can do is take it in; you're perfect. Absolutely perfect. "I have to say," Pantalone's voice is soft, almost reverent.

"You look absolutely stunning." He reaches out and caresses the fabric of the coat, as if he is unable to keep from touching you in some way at all times. "It was a perfect choice." He leans in closer, unable to contain himself. "I'm really proud of myself."

Pantalone's lips meet yours. His heartbeat comes to life, quickening with desire. He wants to be closer, to never let himself leave your side. He wants to touch you again and never let go. And spoil you, how you deserve it. His hands caress your cheek. Your hair. Your neck. Your shoulder blades. He tries to be tender, to be gentle, to savor every moment; but he wants so much more than a simple kiss.

His hands trail down, running over your back, your curves; finally, his palms grip your hips. He pulls you closer, wanting nothing more than to be pressed against you. The whole world disappears. All that exist are the two of you, the way you fit together. The way you want, so desperately, to be one.

"I'll bring you new jewelry next time if i get kisses like this again." He chuckles.

Pierro

He kisses your hands, the feeling of your skin against his own almost breaking Pierro's composure. Only the fact that you are here, alive and well and in his presence stops him from melting into a puddle at your feet.

He's been waiting for this. You're everything to him. "Your Grace." He whispers again, not caring if anyone should come into the room. He kisses up your arm, his lips warm against your skin. The act feels sacred, divine. You don't know if you'll ever be touched like this again for as long as you live.

"Your Grace," Pierro whispers again, voice breaking. He tries to compose himself, but he can't. The emotion of the moment feels too real, too raw.

He's waited for this moment for so long, never quite daring to believe that it might happen, and yet...here you are. You're here.

"May I please...kiss your lips." "Yes..." Pierro needs no further encouragement.

His face is close to yours; the heat of his breath is enough to send shivers down your spine. His arms wrap around your body, pulling you close as his lips meet yours. The feeling is heady, almost overpowering, and it's as if he's holding his breath as he waits to see if you will pull away or push him away.

But you don't.

Pierro pulls back, only to kiss you again. He's kissing every inch of you— your eyes, your cheeks, your neck, your collarbone.

Eventually, you find yourself pressed against a wall. His body is so close, he's pressing against you. Not hard or with any aggression. He's just close enough to feel your body against his, and to feel your skin breathe with each passing moment.

Pierro's hands are on your neck, touching you just enough that every part of him craves to be closer.

"Y/n...."

Razor - aged up

Razor's cheeks tinge pink at the realization that's he's still never actually... kissed anyone before. Damn Bennett for asking if he had ever kissed someone. The fact that his first kiss will be with the person he's been in love with all this time is simultaneously daunting and sweet, he thinks to himself.

Razor nervously leans forward slightly, his lips parted. He hesitates. Razor can do it. Just like lupical Bennett explained.

Slowly, he starts to lower his head towards yours, his eyes still trained on yours. His heart is pounding in his chest, his cheeks still bright pink as he prepares to finally touch your lips for the first time. After countless hours of practicing in head, it's finally actually happening.

Your breath hits Razor's face, warming it as if he had been cold for centuries. *Now... or never.* In a flash, Razor closes the distance between you and him. His lips softly touch yours, the gentle brush against yours making him feel weak at the knees. The sensation of touch... your taste... your very being… are completely new to Razor, he never had the chance to experience such things. It's completely, and utterly, intoxicating.

He keeps the kiss going ever so slightly longer than he’d thought he would, his eyes eventually fluttering shut and his hands slowly raising to hold your face, his touch becoming softer than ever. Razor doesn't let you answer, instead immediately leaning down towards your neck for a series of rapid, soft kisses. This time, he doesn't stop until he has to take a breath for himself. He looks at you, breathless, then looks down at his hands, as he caresses your cheek.

"Do you think....we can do it again?" he asks hesitantly, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. "Razor really....really liked it, your Grace."

Scaramouche

He leans in, inching closer toward you. You can see the muscles in his arm tensing as if pushing him forward. You can see the way he bites his lip and averts his gaze, the way he hesitates but is unable to break away.

Then, all at once, he is close. Too close.

He can't feel anything but your breath on him— only your warmth against his throat.

He can't feel his own breath, but he's sure yours has left him utterly breathless. Scaramouche's lips brush against yours. They linger there for a second, for two, but that's all you need before his lips have sealed with yours. He tries to resist but is unable. His tongue meets yours, and you know you are his first kiss. He's clumsy, but so are you.

You're both a mess. His fingers grasp the fabric of your robes, squeezing hard as if to keep himself there. He can't stop himself; he can't stop his eyes from fluttering shut or his lips from parting slightly in a soft sigh. His lips against yours feel as though they belong there. His tongue against yours feels like the greatest thing. The way his body presses up against yours; the way his hands wrap around the small of your back; the way his eyes open and gaze into yours with such intensity— how could this ever be wrong?

His lips finally part and he pulls away. He gasps for breath, his cheeks flushed and his hair in disarray.

And now *you* don't know what to do. Scaramouche looks as if he's a few steps off fainting.

"Fuck....You're mine now, got it? Mine."

Thoma

He was unaware— or maybe, he just didn't care— how exhausted he actually was. Maybe he'd been like that for quite some time without realizing it. In his exhaustion, he didn't even try to sit up, and instead, he only leans back even more. It's comfortable...in an odd way. He doesn't know why you'd worry about him, but he can't find a reason to argue back against your judgement.

"Okay," he whispers. Your touch is welcome, and so he does nothing to stop you. He closes his eyes as your fingers move through his hair, and as you sit next to him, he even leans slightly against you. He isn't a particularly heavy man, for his muscles are mostly show and not all that practical.

Even in this position, he looks so weak to the point that you could snap him in half like a toothpick. But he doesn't care; right now, he has no care for his pride — just you. And for once, he even doesn't care about any work.

"Now, sleep ok?" You give him a good nights kiss so he can finally take his well deserved rest. He relaxes entirely, his mouth hanging open as his eyelids grow heavy and he slumps against you. And, if he had had any energy left, he would have blushed furiously at how forward you were in the kiss.

As you say, he rests. He does not fight sleep, despite how unusual it was to just... lay down like this. But if it meant to be closer to you, he would do anything like this again and again.

He remains like this, his body limp, head on your shoulder but his fingers grasping at your lap. And dreaming of more kisses.

Tighnari

Tighnari's eyes flutter shut. He leans his head back and closes his eyes, tail swishing back and forth as you stroke his ears. His face is a mask of utter relaxation and peace. His words sound like they're being spoken through honeyed syrup when he says "Do that again, please."

Tighnari's eyes stay shut as you pet his ears again. He sighs loudly and leans into you, his ears pressing into your hand. "Good boy." You giggle as you give him a soft kiss in return.

A deep blush covers Tighnari's face. His tail waves faster as your lips touch him. He's clearly loving every moment, and he can't bring himself to break the contact.After a moment, Tighnari's lips part and his voice leaves his throat. "Your Grace… I think I love you."

His eyes are still closed, but he's blushing madly. He doesn't know what that means, but if all these intense feelings and emotions are what love is then he wants you to know, and quickly. After all, this confession means eternal love.

"I love you too." "I love you… more than I could ever describe," he whispers, leaning closer, lips brushing gently across yours. "I love you with every breath I take. I love you with every thought in my mind. I would love you with my last, dying breath. I love you, with all that I am." His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, nor does he ever let his hands leave your body. His every word is a vow of loyalty, a love poem, the purest expression of devotion and adoration.

He is the most beautiful sight you have ever seen, and he is yours alone.

Venti

"You wrote a song for me?" The smile is almost too much for Venti to contain. "Yes... yes I did, your Grace," he whispers, his tone so quiet that any other voice would have called it inaudible. "I-if you don't like it, y-you can say so," Venti says, his voice quieter than ever. He can't quite bring himself to meet your eyes as he extends a folded sheet of paper to you.

"I could never not like anything you give me." Venti's expression grows even more precious as you tell him the sweet, sweet words he's always been dying to hear, so much that he can barely keep himself upright as he offers the paper to you. His hand is shaking; the song, he worries, might be too basic, too ordinary..."Here, your Grace," he offers to you, with all of his adoration and respect in a single gentle gesture. "Please... please read it, for me?"

You will, you take the paper carefully and read it with pure excitement. "Oh Venti..." You're struck, struck by his words. You know Venti has his way with words but this...The wind god's eyes grow wide at your words. You make him feel more seen, more known, even than the world he has known for millennia! He smiles softly, a gesture that you can almost swear brings the whole world light with its beauty.

"Your Grace? You like it?" he whispers, almost afraid to hear your answer. "Like? I LOVE IT!" Venti lets out a soft gasp as you grab him in your embrace. You let the sheet slide out of your hands and clatter to the ground as he throws his arms around you, burying his face in your shoulder as he kisses you back.

He clutches you tightly, holding onto you like you're the only person in the entire world— the only person whose approval— whose affection— means anything. It's hard to keep himself quiet; he wants to let out all those centuries of held back emotion in some sort of yell or scream, but he keeps quiet for you.

Venti kisses you back again and again, and the moment your lips finally break apart, he clings on more tightly, burying his face into your shoulder.

"You truly like it?" he whispers. "It took me so long to write it— I did it just for you— I made it so that you could feel what I feel for you. I wanted you to know me as I know you. I don't want to be a mystery to you. I want you to know me. I want you to be a part of me.... I want you to be the world to me and the air I breathe."

Wriothesley

"Were you ever kissed before?" Surely he has been, look at him. You were so sure of it. But no. His cheeks are flushed a bright pink. "No, Your Grace," he says, but he looks away instead of meeting your eyes. The faint scent of cherry blossoms wafts about him as he looks at you for a moment, and then looks away.

"I've never... I've never had a reason." He mumbles, as if trying to justify it to himself and not you. "No one could compare to you." Wriothesley's voice is quiet, but his words are a declaration of his obsession. Before you can answer, he says, "Oh, Your Grace..." His voice is breathless, almost a murmur. Then he looks at you— and suddenly, he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. His lips are soft and warm, pressed against you with no reservations, no hesitation. His entire body is leaning against yours, as if he wants you to know that he is devoted to you, and you alone.

His lips are still pressed against your own, and his eyes are closed. Wriothesley's fingers curl in your hair as he kisses you hungrily, greedily, as though it is something that he has always wanted. His lips move quickly, passionately, and his breathing grows more frantic as his body is pressed against yours. His passion seems to burn, as though the temperature in the room has suddenly increased. He is completely lost in you, forgetting the world of Teyvat.

"That came...unexpected." His lips move away from yours, and he opens his eyes, slowly. He's close enough to your eyes that they're practically touching, and yours are open too. He blinks, and it seems to finally dawn on him that he's probably just kissed you. His face flashes bright pink once more.

"Oh." He says, and then quickly leans back. His cheeks are flushed. "Apologies. Your Grace."

"....nah you're good, keep going."

Xiao

"You are deserving." Xiao's heart swells with appreciation and awe. His chest is a tight-knotted ball, writhing with emotion at your praise. He nods, feeling unworthy. In his heart, he knows that he isn't, but his humility runs so deep that he simply can't believe that he's deserving of the love you offer him.

"A-am I, Your Grace?" he whispers, tears pooling in his eyes. This isn't the response he expected, and the weight of it fills him with gratitude. "Yes." The single, one syllable response is enough to move Xiao to tears. He nods, blinking back his tears. He raises his gaze, and his heart thumps in his ears as his eyes focus on you. He struggles to swallow his pride and speaks, his voice hoarse.

"Thank you," he whispers, "thank you so much for choosing me." "I will always choose you, no matter what." "You will...?" The words leave Xiao breathless. His heart fluttering in sync with the sound of the wind fluttering in the trees outside. "Y-you're..."

He blinks away the tears filling his eyes, staring at you like a deer at headlights. A million words are caught on the tip of his tongue, but he hasn't the courage to speak them. Instead, he nods. "I will always choose you too, Your Grace. I will always be yours." His eyes flicker to meet yours, for only a moment, then avert. Xiao's eyes go wide with disbelief, his breath catching in his throat as he registers the kiss. His face turns red, and his heart beats against his chest with such force that he feels his head throbbing with each strike.

The kiss lasts only a moment, but his mind is filled with an electric thrill. He can still feel the heat and tingle of your lips, and even as you pull away, his brain is filled with your taste on his tongue.

"Was I deserving of that, Your Grace...?" he whispers, breathless.

"...we need to work on it, yes, yes you were."

Xingqiu - aged up

"I see you brought me a new book!" "Ah..." Xinqiu nods as he turns his head back towards you. In his arms is a book bound in ivory leather. "I thought you might enjoy it, Your Grace...It's name is 'A song for the dead'."

"I... thought its stories would suit your interests." Xingqiu's voice is soft, though clearly nervous. Nervous he might picked the wrong one. "I thought its stories of betrayal, and vengeance would captivate you. That is all, Your Grace."

Xinqiu is careful with his language; speaking slowly and deliberately. Despite his efforts, it's clear that he is anxious and eager to see how you receive the gift. "Thank you." And you thank him with a gentle kiss. The sound of Xinqiu's breath catching in his throat. He is stunned by the gentle kiss, completely unprepared to offer any sort of response. After a moment, he leans into the kiss.

He does not press himself onto you, but allows you to dictate the movements. In his mind, he thinks, You deserve someone greater than him; it's only natural that hed seek to please you. He offers no resistance to your will. Xingqius eyes close as he seems to sink deeper into the feeling. He has had these fantasies, but always dismissed them as impossible.

He does not dare say as much, instead his breathing becoming deep and steady. His eyes remain closed. After a moment of silence, he speaks again, his voice soft and hushed. "Your Grace..." "Yes?"

"I..." Xingqiu difficulty finding the right words. His eyes open, though they don't meet yours. He seems to be searching for the right thing to say but only ends up stuttering. "... Your Grace... I... I would ask you to accept my vows as your loyal devotee. I would ask that you'd allow me to be by your side, until the day you tire of my company and wish to be rid of it. I would ask that you would allow me to serve you, and fight for you. To honor you and your word..."

Zhongli

Zhongli stops short once he hears your words. For a moment, he seems not to understand their significance towards him. Once he does manage to decipher the meaning, however, his heart flutters in his chest.

"You... You love me?" There. The words hang between you both, as though they could be blown away with the slightest gust of wind.

Zhongli is frozen for a moment, almost afraid to breathe for risk of shattering the quiet. But yet... even though he's petrified, he doesn't seem to wish for it to end.

"With every fiber of my body." A light breeze passes through the courtyards, almost like the flutter of an angel's wing. Zhongli takes it a sign for him to follow his impulses, to throw caution to the wind.

In a singular instant, he leans forward, his hands clasping your face. His thumb caresses your soft lips as though tracing a holy scripture. Zhongli has waited six-thousand years to feel this moment. The moment that would change everything. He leans in and presses a light kiss to your warm, pink lips. "I love you...I..." Zhongli's words are cut off as he leans in, his lips pressing against yours.

His heart threatens to burst out of his chest. His mind is swirling with a thousand thoughts. The moment lasts only a second but feels like time itself has come to halt. Even as he breathes, it feels like every air his lungs take is sacred... as if this could be his last moment before his final curtain.

Zhongli clings to the kiss as if it's the only thing keeping him in this world. As if he could disappear without your words, your touch. Zhongli kisses you once more with just as much passion as before. He doesn't want to let go, yet you both need to breathe. Once you pull apart, his hands remain on your neck, gripping your skin as if he will never let go.

Zhongli is unable to speak. His vision is swimming with tears of joy, yet his breath is shallow and his heart fluttering.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice so soft that you must lean in simply to hear it.

"I love you too."

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@junejunejun

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thebimbopalace · 15 days

Text

❛ WHERE DO YOU WANT IT !? ❜

↻ featuring: k. nanami, s. gojo, s. getō, t. fushiguro

⟢ blurb: where the jjk men like to release their desire fluid on you. (hcs w/ drabbles attached)

contains — fem!reader, explicit content (mdni), foul language, feminine pet names, p in v, husband!nanami, mating press (nanami), unprotected, oral play (gojo), whiny gojo (maybe? idk), heavy bāll sūcking (gojo), mastūrbation (gojo), light masochism (gojo), backshots (getō), one spank, tīt fūcking (toji), reader has big chest in toji’s, use of lūbe, dirty talk

☆ — KENTO NANAMI

sweet sweet kento. *dreamy sigh* he’d cum inside you. without a shred of a doubt. even with a condom on, he's finishing inside. in his mind, why pull out of something that makes him feel so good? something so warm and eager for him.

and since you both said i do, that fact has become more apparent. the night before your honeymoon, he tossed the package of condoms straight into the trash (not before you said it was okay of course). the thought of cumming in you with no barrier has his cock already standing up.

"sweet — sweetheart, fuck, you're gonna make me cum quick if you keep it up," kento's raspy baritone hits your ears as his long, deep strokes move in and out smoothly from your gushing cunt. your acrylic nails scrape down his muscular back in ecstasy leaving red marks in their wake, marks he wears like a medal of honor.

the deep digging of his cock in your warmth has blood pumping to your ears creating a block to any outside noise. the only thing your fucked out brain registers is the orgasm climbing up your core for the umpteenth time tonight. his sizable hands set at the bend of your knees, pinning you to the mattress while your ankles dangle by your ears as if they're expensive earrings.

plap plap plap, the sound of his heavy, cum-filled balls slapping against the puckered ring of your ass adds to the state of euphoria you find yourself in with your new husband. groans and growls vacate kento’s throat at the way your tight gummy walls latch onto his twitching cock greedily. “god d-damn hun, ‘m gonna cum, where—” you cut him off, “in ken, in me pleaseee,” you whine.

he obeys. his hands at the bend of your knees tighten as ropes of hot, sticky cum fill your womb. the feeling of his bulbous tip spurting cum inside you tumbles you into your climax, rapidly clenching around his cock to drain him dry. “ahshit baby, ‘s so much. you don’t mind bein’ full, do you hun?”

☆ — SATORU GOJO

your face. no question that’s where satoru would cum. he’d paint you with his fluid anywhere but, when he sees the milky white on your beautiful face . . . it damn near makes his cock hard again.

such sensitive balls. such suckable balls. the way you lap, slurp, and suck on them as he fists his cock would make this man so damn whiny and needy for release.

"keep — mmfuck — keep suckin' 'em baby. i-i wanna cum, make me fuckin' cummm," satoru's deprived whines bounce off the walls in your shared apartment. his giant hand strokes his cock ferociously, white brows knitting together as his pink bottom lip is caught between his pearly white teeth. the embodiment of pure bliss.

red lipstick marks litter the pale skin around his cock and balls evidence of your plump lips kissing, worshipping his well-endowed package. those same plump lips currently wrapped around his sensitive undercarriage, juggling them in the wet cavity of your mouth. long licks, sharp suckles, lewd slurps attacking his cum jammed sacs ripping whimper after whimper out of your snow-haired lover.

"fuck, fuck, fuck! — baby mmm, shittt, you got my cock leakin' soooo much with that," his whines tumble from his slick lips as the bulbous tip of his cock drips precum onto your forehead and hair. normally, you’d be upset about the mess he’s making on your locks but, he’s so adorable like this. such a whiny, pathetic boy. the way you suck on his balls like you’re trying to suck peanut butter through a capri sun straw has satoru’s toes gripping the carpet below.

crimson paints satoru’s cheeks as a dribble of drool slowly slides down the side of his mouth. “hngh! baby baby baby, ‘m close. a little more, drain me, drain my cock of all that fuckin’ cum,” his hand speeds up on his pulsating cock, the thick vein on the underside of it twitching with each flick of your tongue on his tender balls. you nip the supple skin of his sac with your teeth — the pain-pleasure mix knocks satoru right into a euphoric state.

white ropes of semen decorate your stunning features as satoru’s back arches off the back couch cushions. “ohf-fuuuck princess, look at that, mmm that hot cum dripping all over that pretty face. makin’ — haah — makin’ my balls ache.”

☆ — SUGURU GETŌ

hmmm . . . your ass. suguru would adore your body during backshots. the arch of your back, the way your face would be smushed into the sheets, and the way your ass would hit his hips with lewd slaps.

and the icing on the cake (get it?) would be when he splatters his off-white cum all over those plump cheeks. the way it drips down your rear towards your thighs or the ring of your ass makes him want to empty his balls again.

"oh yeah beautiful, this pussy's jus' swallowing my dick huh? she won't let me go, greedy cunt," he groans with each piston of his cock inside your warm, tacky walls. suguru’s hands are glued to your hips, thumbs planted on the two divots on your lower back, while his pelvis rapidly beats against the fat of your ass. he reaches so deep inside you. but you and him both know that he could go even deeper.

as your face is smushed against the silk sheets, back arched like a cat stretching out after a nap, you uncurl your shaky hands from the steel grip they had on the sheets placing them on your ass. you maneuver your hands to spread your rear cheeks apart granting suguru more access to drive his girth further inside you, effectively splitting you open. “gods, look at you, baby. perfect little thing,” he grunts feeling more inches sink into the hot, sopping cavity of your pussy.

obscene wet sounds inhabit the heady atmosphere making your body flush with excitement as well as embarrassment. you're dripping. your arousal thoroughly soaking his cock, balls, and the silk sheets will always have him ready to burst like a balloon. your pitchy moans mix with the vulgar squelching of your cunt as if you're trying to make beautiful music. “shshsh my lover, your pussy's tryin' to talk to me. let her speak,” he smirks as his mitt of a hand pushes your head into the mattress to quiet you down.

each plunge of his cock into your warmth has your cunt talking to him — a full-blown conversation consisting of suguru's growls and your gooey slick. pleasure overtakes your senses making it impossible to keep your hips stationary. you slowly start to move your hips back to meet his but the utter intensity of his movements has your hips stuttering. “s-suguuuu” you whine, almost screeching. a firm smack crashes onto your ass cheek as suguru's tone turns demanding. “no whining beautiful. fuck me back c’mon, fuck that messy cunt back on me. ‘m close to cummin’.”

you obediently oblige, your ass smashing into suguru's pelvis with the impact knocking the wind out of his lungs. his hands find a home atop yours to keep your rear cheeks spread far apart. your moans grow into squeals as your climax hits you like a ton of bricks. suguru glances down and catches a glimpse of your asshole winking speedily from your orgasm making his release catch him off guard. suguru swiftly pulls his throbbing cock and splatters your ass cheeks with his steamy off-white fluid. “mmshiit baby fuck! so fuckin’ sexy with that ass covered in my fuckin’ cum.”

☆ — TOJI FUSHIGURO

tits, and i will die on this hill. it’s a well-known fact that toji is a big tits lover. the ample flesh of your breasts will always get him on stiff. even if they do nothing but sit pretty in your top. if your cleavage is shown, he's twitching in his boxers.

the debauched nature of his thick seed drizzled all over your soft mounds is an image that will be seared into his brain for all eternity. one that will play on repeat whenever he's away from you and needs to quick release.

"you look so fuckin' pretty, doll. look at how those tits jus' eat up my cock, fuckin' hell." toji's restraint is on strings. the view under him is to die for. you sprawled out on your back, your plump chest cupped by his rough hands as his quivering cock glides between the warm crevice. it's too much to bear seeing you like this.

his burly form above you glistens with sweat as droplets slide down the raised rigid muscles of his abs before getting lost in the tufts of dark hair that formulate his happy trail. his thrusts are steady with the undertones of neediness shining through with each rock of his hips. his once ink-blue eyes now black are blown with raw lust as he watches beads of his translucent precum pool in the dip between your collarbones.

a naughty smirk works its way onto toji's face at the wetness that’s collecting on your skin. one of his hands leaves your breast which you swiftly replace with yours to maintain the friction that muddles toji's mind in irreversible ways. his thumb dips into the small puddle of precum, coating the pad of it. “open,” he commands. your kiss-bitten lips part, your pink muscle peeking out just enough for toji to smear his essence on your awaiting tongue.

the primal side of him wants to make a complete mess out of you. to see those pretty eyes of yours widened when his actions contain vulgarity guaranteed to make even the most sinful woman blush. his free hand deftly rummages through the open drawer of your nightstand grabbing the bottle of water-based lube. flicking the cap open with his thumb, toji begins to squeeze an excessive amount of the gel onto your plush mounds. “keep ‘em together doll,” he urges as the bottle is discarded.

the added lubrication fosters a feeling of euphoria in toji's already hazy brain. “god, fuckin' tits feel so good around my cock. should've fucked them ages ago,” he babbles, feeling his orgasm gain speed. with each snap of his pelvis, you feel his impatience. to help topple him over into the pits of bliss, you peek your tongue out once more. only this time, you point the tip of it and prod it against his crying slit, which does the trick. with a loud, guttural groan, toji frees his cock from in between your breasts and spills his viscous semen with each jerk of his hand. “ahfuck! got me cummin’ so hard jus’ from those fat tits baby, shit yeah.”

#✎ᝰ. ( signed your majesty ) !#nanami kento x you #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #suguru geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk fic

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somewhereincairparavel · 1 month

Text

Percy this. Percy that. It was always about Percy Jackson. All the fucking time.

It was always about the Hero of Olympus, the one who defeated Kronos and led the battle of Manhattan, the one who was offered immortality by the king of the gods himself, the one who restored glory to Rome by returning the golden eagle, the one who became praetor of the Roman camp in 2 weeks with limited training.

His Roman camp. Jason Grace's Roman camp.

Percy Jackson had pulled off everything in 2 weeks that Jason Grace wasn't able to accomplish despite dedicating his whole life for duty. 11 years of blood, sweat and tears, simply gone down the drain.

Jason had failed his camp. He had failed his home. Turns out, he wasn't as great as the people of Rome had once preached about him. It was obvious considering the less than warm welcome he had gotten from his so-called “home”.

He received no hugs, no cheers, no “we missed you jason!”, no “I was so worried about you!” or even a single pat on the arm by his “friend” Dakota. Dakota and Gwendolyn hadn't even spared a glance at him.

Nothing. Instead, this new Jackson boy was held up to worship like a god amongst the people who once considered Jason a “hero”.

Jason laughed bitterly. Was it selfish of him to be disappointed with Reyna? With a pang, he got to know that Reyna hadn't sent a single search party out to look for her “best friend”. Not like Annabeth did for Percy, not like Thalia did for Percy.

With a pang, he got to know that the whole camp basically deemed him as ‘dead’ and Reyna hadn't even set up a memorial of remembrance for him. The camp had simply moved on with their new hero. Without a single shred of thought for Jason Grace.

The forgotten Hero. The lost hero. Jason Grace.

These thoughts of doubt gnawed on Jason's mind, slowly eating him up ever since he'd first seen Percy Jackson in those damned praetor togas that once belonged to him.

He didn't dislike the boy, of course not, it wasn't Percy's fault that Hera wiped their memories or switched camps.

But it was hard for Jason to not resent him, or feel even the tiniest amount of envy, knowing that Reyna willingly replaced him with Jackson. Very quickly too, at that. He overheard Octavian blabbing to his lackeys about how Reyna “was head over heels for Percy almost immediately”

“I guess that's it. Maybe I am someone who is easy to replace.” Jason thought, his eyes pricking as he looked over from the flying ship, at the place he once used to call home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason watched remorsefully as Thalia, Grover, Percy and Annabeth were all gathered at the table in camp half blood, cracking jokes about dam french fries or whatever that meant.

Thalia caught Jason's eyes, staring at all of them from a distance. She smiled softly, and gave him a tiny wave. He weaved his lips into something that was meant to look like a wry smile, but it came out as a slight grimace, as he waved back.

Thalia was so close to Jason, yet so far away.

He knew she loved him, but it felt different. And an annoying, nagging part of Jason had known that Thalia would never be as close to him as she was to Annabeth or Percy.

Ironic isn't it? Jason and Thalia were always connected since they came from the same womb, yet she was closer to Annabeth, a girl she'd found after she had run away from the same woman that had given Jason to the wolves. The same woman who had turned his life upside down by abandoning him.

Thalia had found Annabeth right after she thought she had lost Jason. In a strangely ironic way, Jason felt like he'd been replaced all over again.

Thalia had replaced Jason as a younger sibling with Annabeth without even realizing it, all of this took place mere months after a baby Jason was considered to be dead. This situation had strangely reminded him of Camp Jupiter, how he was replaced by Percy right after Jason was considered “dead” by Camp Jupiter.

This made Jason reach the possibility that if he were indeed “dead”, he wouldn't be missed. People wouldn't bat an eyelash. Since there was always someone better than him. Someone like Percy Jackson, who could easily fill the void Jason would leave behind.

His eyes watered, as he looked at how much fun his sister had with his friends. Knowing full well, that he'd never be able to do the same.

Jason felt ashamed that he had to ask Percy about Thalia’s likes and dislikes, he was thalia’s brother. He was supposed to know.

Jason watched as Thalia quickly hugged the trio, as she left their table to leave with the hunters, not even realizing that there was one person whom she forgot to hug.

Don't take it personally. Don't take it personally. She just forgot. She doesn't hate you. She just forgot. She doesn't prefer Percy over you. She's in a hurry. That's why she forgot. Jason repeated that like a mantra, the only person he was trying to convince was himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And he rejected immortality!- oh you should've seen Zeus' face!” Annabeth exclaimed to Hazel excitedly, as Percy was blushing at the compliment fountain being poured at him by Hazel and Annabeth.

Jason had always been fascinated by that story, the almighty Percy Jackson getting offered to become a god, by Zeus.

His father. Jason's father, Zeus.

Jason felt stupid and guilty for getting envious, it's not the fact that Percy had been offered immortality, no. Jason couldn't care less about being immortal. It was the person who offered Percy invincibility that bothered Jason so much.

Jason knew that even if he went to the ends of the world to accomplish something, his father wouldn't be able to praise him or even talk to him for a long time.

Zeus and Jason could never be like Hades and Nico, or Poseidon and Percy. That's just how it is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reyna had come to camp half blood for a fun visit. Jason would've been ecstatic in other circumstances, but in this case, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. Because currently, Reyna seemed to be looking at everyone, but refused to meet Jason's eyes. She seemed to keep her distance as she laughed at something Percy and Piper were saying.

She may as well have just stabbed him, it would've hurt a lot less.

He had truly been naive to believe that he could make amends with Reyna. Now he knew, it would never be possible. There was too much pain mixed with bitterness on both ends. But seeing her get along with Percy reminded him of the old times of friendship he and Reyna had shared. Keyword: had.

Once again, the fates had shown him that Percy Jackson would always be better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Jason Grace lay on the cold floor, coughing out blood. He realized he was alone, he was dying, but he was alone.

Like always. The sickly voice of Gaia, that had once haunted his nightmares, boomed in his head. Jason knew he was hallucinating as a result of blood loss, Gaia is in deep slumber. But that did not stop the voice in his head that was invented by his insecurities. Even in the end, you've been forgotten, Jason Grace. Because that's what you will always be. The second best. The leftover. The pawn who is discarded, after his purpose has been fulfilled. Percy Jackson would always be better in everyone's eyes.

To the Romans, you are simply the one who betrayed his lineage. But Percy is the one who restored glory. He did your job for you.

To the Greeks, you are simply a burden, one whom they were forced to welcome.

To your father, you are merely one of his many sons.

To your sister, you are a stranger.

Jason's resolve to live had weakened, hot tears were streaming down his face as he closed his eyes in defeat, he had come to the painful conclusion that nobody is going to come find his body. Nobody is going to mourn him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh I will always be much better than you at this! Bring it on, dude!” Percy laughed as he striked his play sword lightsaber at Jason's. They clashed.

“You wish, Jackson!” Jason shot back jokingly, as they sparred playfully with toy lightsabers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jackson, you jerk. You were right after all, you will always be much better than me” Jason laughed bitterly, as he recalled that memory of his sparring session with Percy.

Suddenly everything went black. The life had successfully ebbed out of him.

Little did Jason know, was that someone had indeed come to look for him. Tempest, his Pegasus had come to retrieve his body, but Jason was long gone. People had indeed mourned him. His friends were, indeed, anguished. His sister was, indeed, heartbroken.

Jason's soul parted this world, with the knowledge that he'd always be The forgotten Hero.

The lost hero. Jason Grace.

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pin-k-ink · 27 days

Text

brand // nakahara chuuya

tw ⇢ chuuya is absolutely down bad, possessive!chuuya, body worship, obsession, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, praise kink, pet names, mild exhibitionism

wc ⇢ 7k

The scent of coffee and crisp paperwork hung heavy in the stillness of the office, broken only by the occasional shuffle of files or tapping of computer keys. To most, it was the mundane backdrop of another workday morning. But for Chuuya Nakahara, it provided the perfect vantage point to quietly observe his favorite distraction.

You sat across the room, seemingly oblivious to the weight of his stare as you chatted animatedly with a cluster of admiring interns. A husky peal of laughter spilled from your lips, prompting a familiar twisting in Chuuya's gut. Like depressing the soul from a silk bag, your natural charm effortlessly drew others into your radiant orbit.

Yet you remained utterly blind to your own allure.

With each dulcet giggle and casually artless brush of fingers over an arm, Chuuya's jaw clenched tighter. He watched, jaw muscle twitching, as one particularly bold intern leaned over your desk, lips tantalizingly close to the curved shell of your ear as he mock-whispered some no doubt asinine quip. The way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you laughed should have been illegal.

A low, guttural growl rumbled up from Chuuya's chest as your head fell back, exposed throat a brazen temptation. The urge to march over and yank you against him, to scrape blunt teeth over that creamy column and renew the bruises already mottling your skin, was overwhelming. To stake his claim in the most primal way possible.

But no, that wouldn't do. Not here, not with so many prying eyes to witness his loss of control. He was the master of his realm, alpha and omega. The idea of such a public display of weakness made his stomach churn.

No, when he finally made his move, it would be on his terms alone. An exquisitely calculated gambit to conquer you utterly.

The game was finally in play.

From that moment on, your every interaction was needling beneath Chuuya's skin like shards of glass. He watched, consumed by that same gnawing hunger, as you unwittingly flirted and teased your way through the ranks of the office. So effortlessly you captivated them, stringing them all along without a shred of awareness.

It was delicious torment for Chuuya, stoked higher with each innocent caress and artfully arched look from beneath a heavy fringe of lashes. By all rights, you should have been his from the very start. His to possess, his to shelter from wandering eyes, his to mark as utterly his own.

The breaking point came one hazy afternoon as he stood in the doorway to his office, covertly watching you chat with the new postal clerk. The young man's eyes raked over your form with undisguised appreciation, shamelessly drinking in the soft curves and inviting swell of cleavage peeking from your top.

As if in slow motion, you shifted position, back arching ever so slightly in a subconscious invitation. It was a subtle motion, one you likely didn't even register. But to the hungry eyes watching you, it was a revelation painted in neon lights.

That was the moment the maddeningly elaborate plan solidified in Chuuya's mind. He would put on a masterful spectacle, one designed to snare you so completely that you had no choice but to finally see him as he truly was.

The following days were an exercise in brutally focused restraint for Chuuya. Each lingering glance, every casual brush of fingertips over your arm as you laughed at some inane joke, chipped away at his resolve. The urge to abandon all pretenses and simply take what he desired clawed at his sanity like the relentless ticking of a doomsday clock.

But he couldn't, wouldn't risk ruining everything now. Not when the final act was so close at hand.

So he maintained his carefully cultivated facade of disinterested composure, all while plotting out the finer details. Acquiring the dress was the first priority - a sinful creation of ruched crimson silk and daring cut-outs designed to entice and enflame. Next came the accessories, each piece painstakingly chosen to be a brand of ownership crying out to the world that you were well and truly his.

The final touches fell exquisitely into place with dizzying speed. Venue secured, travel arrangements made, loose ends methodically tied up until there was nothing left but to execute the plan.

Chuuya could scarcely focus as the morning of the event dawned bright and clear. The weight of the small velvet box tucked into his breast pocket was a lead talisman burning against his skin with every breath. This was it, the cumulation of weeks' worth of meticulous scheming, all leading to this one singular moment.

He forced himself to maintain an aura of unruffled nonchalance as he strode through the office towards your desk. You barely looked up from the stack of paperwork before you, attention wholly consumed by the tedious task at hand.

"We're going out tonight," Chuuya stated flatly, allowing no room for argument. "Clear your evening."

Your brow furrowed minutely as you raised your head, opening your mouth to likely protest the short notice. But whatever objections you may have voiced died on your lips as you met the subtly blazing intensity of his stare head-on.

In that infinite breath, the world seemed to judder to a halt, static electricity cackling along your nerve endings. There was no refusing him when he got like this, radiating an almost feral aura of raw dominance. So you simply nodded, temporarily robbed of speech.

The barest ghost of a smirk played about the hard line of Chuuya's mouth before he turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving you to stare after his retreating back. The man moved with the coiled power and easy menace of a snared panther, danger and sensuality rolled into one. It was utterly bewitching.

Those last few hours crept by at an agonizing pace, each minute feeling like an eternity. You struggled to focus, mind incessantly wandering to that scorching look that had stolen your breath and set your pulse rabbiting. Just what did Chuuya have planned?

By the time the workday sputtered to a close, you were near vibrating out of your skin with ill-masked anticipation. The not knowing, the delicious suspense, was a uniquely heady aphrodisiac all on its own.

Which was why the sight of Chuuya leaning against the building's front entrance, an inscrutable mirage in his crisply tailored suit, very nearly stopped your heart on the spot. How was it possible for one man to exude such commanding, darkly magnetic appeal?

"Took you long enough," he chided, voice terse but thrumming with an undercurrent of silken promise that made you shiver. "We can't be late."

Without awaiting your response, Chuuya spun on his heel, long legs easily outpacing your stunned shuffle to keep up. It was just one more tantalizing brick in the foundation of exquisite tension rapidly being constructed around you.

At last you reached the car - a sleek, purring behemoth of mirrored obsidian and buttery cream leather. Settling into the plush backseat, you couldn't resist trailing your fingertips over the velvety smooth upholstery as Chuuya slid in beside you.

"Where-" you began, only to break off when he leveled you with a look that could have been carved from granite.

"You'll see," was his only terse response before signaling for the driver to depart.

The ride passed in a loaded silence, the air between you and Chuuya thickening with each aching mile until it felt like inhaling smoke. You stole sidelong glimpses at him, admiring the severe masculine lines of his profile and the way the passing streetlights gilded his sharp cheekbones.

Finally, you could bear the suspense no longer. "Chuuya, what's this all abou-?"

"We're here."

The words were toneless, yet somehow still managed to ring with finality. You swallowed hard, suddenly uncertain if you truly wished to know where 'here' was.

Chuuya was already climbing out, leaving you to hurry after him with your heart lodged firmly in your throat. As you stepped out onto the dimly lit street, the first thing that struck you was the pervasive quiet. Not eerie, per se, but begging to be disturbed.

The second was the gorgeous, multi-story heritage building rising before you. More manor than mere residence, it stood wreathed in artfully maintained gardens with myriad stone pathways winding playfully through the manicured foliage. It was...certainly not what you had expected.

Before you could voice any of the thousand questions whirling through your mind, Chuuya's hand closed with definitive authority about your wrist, tugging you against the solid wall of his chest. His free hand delved into his suit jacket to withdraw a small velvet box which he pressed firmly into your palm.

"Open it," he demanded, voice low and edged with that same unnameable intensity.

You did, inhaling a shocked little breath at the stunning set of jewelry nestled within the box's plush interior...

With trembling fingers, you lifted the exquisite ruby pendant from its nest of black velvet. Even in the muted streetlight, the deep crimson stones seemed to smolder with their own inner fire. Wordlessly, you turned it over, only to have the breath punched from your lungs.

There, engraved in a flowing script upon the ornate metal, were the unmistakable initials 'N.C.'

You whipped your head up to meet Chuuya's burning stare, a silent question seared into your features. He simply held your gaze, expression inscrutable yet blazing with unspoken promises that made your pulse spiral dizzily.

"Put it on," he finally rumbled, giving you the barest of nods.

There was no room for argument or negotiation, only complete submission. Trembling, you fumbled with the delicate clasp until the heavy pendant rested against the hollow of your throat. It was cool against your feverish skin, a claim of possession both brazenly overt yet darkly intimate.

Chuuya's eyes went molten at the sight, raking over the barbaric accessory before flicking back up to snare you in his smoldering scrutiny once more.

"Perfect," he purred in a rumbling timbre that danced like sparks along your nerve endings. "Now for the rest."

With those cryptic words, Chuuya produced a sleek garment bag from somewhere behind him and thrust it against your chest. You clutched it reflexively, mouth working soundlessly as you sought to formulate a coherent question. But Chuuya was already turning away, striding towards the imposing manor with the unwavering confidence of a man bound for the inner sanctum of his domain.

Casting one last bewildered glance at the softly rustling gardens surrounding you, you trailed after him. Each clicked footfall across the immaculately tended grounds resonated through you with finality. Like an outrider steadily advancing to lay siege upon some uncharted keep.

The double doors yawned open at Chuuya's approach, allowing you both to sweep unimpeded into the cavernous foyer with its vaulted ceilings and exquisite architectural detailing. The manor's opulence was simultaneously breathtaking and disconcerting.

"Get changed," Chuuya ordered without preamble, gesturing to the ornate wooden doors several paces further within. "And don't even think about giving me any arguments."

The look he pierced you with brooked no debate, so you swallowed down your growing sense of trepidation and nodded. With the garment bag clutched between white-knuckled fingers, you slipped through the doors and found yourself in a decadently-appointed boudoir.

Plush chaise longues and silk draperies abounded, giving the room an ambiance of sumptuous seduction that was dizzyingly at odds with the Gothic grandeur of the manor itself. You shook your head, trying in vain to quell the mounting disquiet fluttering madly within.

Each rustling movement of the garment bag's silk lining only served to heighten your unsettled state. But you knew there was no use delaying the inevitable, no deterring Chuuya once he'd set his mind to something.

With that resigned thought, you freed the dress from its protective cocoon with trembling hands. A punched-out exhalation escaped your lips, swallowed by the abrupt roaring in your ears.

The gown was...magnificent didn't seem an adequate descriptor. In deepest, most ensnaring shades of claret and crimson, it seemed to writhe as a living, sensual thing. Sumptuous folds of rich satin caressed with glistening silken trails of embroidered roses. Sheer side insets carved revealing glimpses of toned curves and supple skin. The plunging neckline was positively corseted in its scandalous indecency, the dramatic sweetheart bodice sculpted to accentuate the most intimate of feminine assets.

You traced one finger over the sinuous line of the gown, cheeks flushing at the thought of donning something so overtly designed to stir the most primal of urges. But you were already in far too deep to consider turning back now.

With a fortifying inhalation, you quickly shimmied out of your work attire and stepped into the gown's silken embrace. It clung to your figure like a second skin sheathed in scarlet petals, trailing sinfully over the dips and flares of your body in a wholly indecent manner. A silent siren's call to avarice and covetous lust.

You twisted this way and that before the gilt mirror, admiring and scrutinizing in equal measures. The pendant lay in a plush pool amidst the exposed upper swell of your breasts, its dark crimson hue a bloody brand for any who dared let their eyes linger. Somehow, it felt as if the dress had been expressly crafted for this one accessory alone.

With one final bracing breath, you gathered your resolve and swept towards the door. Better to rejoin Chuuya and hope for an explanation than remain barricaded away like a shamed concubine.

He was lounging with deceptive indolence in one of the foyer's opulent winged-back chairs, long legs outstretched before him in an image of unconcerned elegance. Yet there was nothing casual in the unerring way his gaze locked upon you the moment you appeared. Like that of a serpent hypnotized by a clutch of trembling prey.

"My my..." Chuuya's voice was a raptor's caress, smooth and seductive yet edged with thinly veiled possession. "If I didn't know better, I might think you were trying to tempt me, doll."

You flushed hotly beneath his ravenous scrutiny, suddenly uncertain and deeply aware of your compromising state of undress. The satin caressed your too-warm skin in a simulation of covetous fingers, sending prickles of vaulting desire shivering along your nerve endings.

Chuuya rose from his seated position with leonine grace, eyes never straying from where they blazed scorching paths over your displayed charms. Each prowling step he took in your direction seemed to fill the air with static, raising the fine hairs along your arms and nape.

When at last he stood mere inches before you, near enough that his body heat lapped against you in smoky tendrils, you had to resist the urge to sway forwards. To seek the blistering burn of that intoxicating radiance you knew lurked beneath his composed veneer.

"Look at you..." he breathed, voice a graveled rasp of undisguised want. His knuckles grazed your jawline in a lingering caress. "A delicious temptation in scarlet and sin. Do you have any idea how utterly sexy you are right now?"

A tremulous shudder gripped you at his words, at the sinful admiration blazing from his darkened eyes. Unconsciously, you leaned deeper into the cupping warmth of his palm, chasing that delicious frisson of sensation.

Chuuya's lips curved in a devastatingly carnal smirk before he abruptly dropped his hand, leaving you starved for his scorching brand once more. You fought back the urge to whimper at the loss, cheeks flushing hotly as you recognized your body's dizzying desperation.

"We should get going," he murmured, the words at harsh odds with the smoky timbre of his tone that seemed to caress over your heated skin like a physical touch. "Our reservations won't wait forever, pet."

With that, he spun on his heel and began striding towards the still-open doors, clearly expecting you to follow on obediently stumbling footsteps. Which you did without a moment's hesitation, drawn after him like a reliably enraptured moth to a searing flame.

The limousine was awaiting in the circular front drive when you emerged, engine purring in anticipation. But it wasn't the plush leather interior or sparkling crystal tumblers that immediately captured your eye. Rather, it was the enormous cascade of crimson roses spilling from an ornate crystal vase positioned in the center of the seat.

Rich velvet petals unfurled in an exquisite profusion, each glistening with twinkling dew-kissed diamonds that glimmered with ethereal brilliance beneath the car's golden interior lighting. It was like glimpsing the secret, sinful heart of a fairytale forest come alive.

So enraptured were you by the display that you very nearly didn't register Chuuya's hand at your back, exerting firm pressure to guide you into the lush interior. With infinite care, he deposited you amidst the floral splendor before sliding in opposite with that catlike grace.

The heavy door sealed you both into the cocoon of velvet opulence with a sense of finality that resonated through your very marrow. Whatever game Chuuya was orchestrating was clearly reaching its dizzying crescendo.

You scarcely dared breathe, nerves thrilling with indecipherable tension as you watched Chuuya accept two crystal flutes from the cabine's mini-bar. The pale amber liquid sloshed enticingly as he handed one to you with a smoldering look of heated possession.

"A toast," he murmured, voice like lascivious sin poured straight into your ringing ears. "To an evening that will forever banish any lingering doubts as to whom you belong to, pet."

His glass knocked against yours with a delicate tinkling clink, the sound carrying the solemn weight of a death knell. Wordlessly, you tipped the liquor past your lips in a burning swallow, scarcely registering the flavors. You were anchored adrift atop a roiling sea of Chuuya's unfathomable intentions, awaiting his lead.

No sooner had you lowered the glass than Chuuya was reaching for you with rekindled intensity blazing in his stare. One broad palm cradled your nape as he drew you flush against the rigid line of his body, coaxing your knees to bracket his lean hips in a scandalously intimate straddle.

The sumptuous dress bunched and pooled around your thighs in a provocative tumble of scarlet silk. Chuuya's free hand traced the daring neckline, following the plunging curve to where the dusky hollow of your breasts was left enticingly bare.

Beneath his smoldering stare, each nerve seemed to awaken into blistering life, searing awareness streaking from nerve ending to nerve ending. His hungry exhale fanned hotly against your parted lips as his fingers drifted inevitable lower, tracing patterns of molten lust across the exposed flesh left on display.

"All mine..." he rasped, words interspersed with open-mouthed, scorching kisses along the thundering pulse at your throat. "Tonight, you'll see just how far I'm willing to go to ensure the whole city knows that truth."

With a groan, he dragged you harder against him, claiming your lips in a branding kiss of possession as the limo thrummed to purring life and pulled away into the night.

The limo carved through the city's pulsing arteries in a blur of neon and shadow. You remained utterly transfixed by Chuuya, drowning in the blazing intensity of his eyes as he held you immobile in his searing appraisal.

With each passing minute, the tension thickened until it felt like inhaling molten desire with every breath. Chuuya's hands roamed in unhurried exploration, igniting licking flames wherever his fingers grazed bare skin. You squirmed helplessly against him, silently beseeching for something more, anything to slake this new aching need coiling low in your belly.

At last, the limousine rolled to a smooth stop, the muffled thrum of music and voices spilling in from outside. Chuuya offered you a slow, sinful smile before capturing your lips in one more devouring kiss.

"Showtime, doll," he purred against your tingling mouth. "Try to keep up."

With a smooth flick of his wrist, he exited the vehicle in one fluid sweep, leather oxfords striking the pavement with muted clicks. You hurried to join him, breathless and flushed in anticipation of whatever depraved delights he had orchestrated.

The venue was spectacular, all vaulted glass ceilings and glittering contemporary opulence. Immaculately dressed attendants glided amongst the crowd, proffering crystal flutes of effervescent champagne from silver trays. It was the very vision of rarefied indulgence.

And at its throbbing epicenter stood Chuuya, an indolent panther lording over his sumptuous court. His arm snaked about your waist, pulling you flush against his side with blatant possession as his gaze dared anyone to so much as linger.

"Exquisite, isn't it?" he murmured, mouth brushing the curved shell of your ear in an electrifying caress. "Though perhaps not quite as exquisite as how utterly breathtaking you look in that dress, sweetheart."

His fingers traced the plunging neckline with bold defiance, allowing anyone keen enough to catch the implication. You flushed hotly, mortified yet undeniably thrilled by this new, unabashed dynamic unfolding between you.

For the rest of the evening, Chuuya remained your phantomlike shadow, perpetually orbiting just within your peripheral awareness. His eyes followed your every move, every laugh, with a smoldering heat that seemed to bore straight through muscle and bone. That collar of rubies glittered like a shocking wound against your throat with each breath.

You basked in the laser focus of his attention, a silent sun worshipper tilting to receive the benediction of its radiance. Never had you felt so fervently desired, coveted down to your very molecules. It was utterly, devastatingly intoxicating.

And as the night's dying embers sputtered towards its inevitable conclusion, Chuuya drew you close in a shadowed alcove, one broad palm cradling your nape as his lips brushed yours in barely-there whispers of heated promise.

"Do you understand now?" he rasped, the graveled words sending frissons of liquid rapture spilling through your veins. "There is no escaping me, no sanctuary from my passion. I will chase you into the very fires of hell itself, if that's what it takes to make you truly mine."

Helplessly, you whimpered against the scorching brand of his mouth, the need and naked adoration thrumming through your very marrow in answer. In that suspended moment of freefall, only one certainty reigned...

You were so completely, utterly his.

The crescendo of the evening had reached its feverish apex, suspending you and Chuuya in a gossamer bubble impervious to the outside world. His eyes burned with banked embers of undisguised want, rendering you breathless and utterly enthralled beneath their molten scrutiny.

"Come with me," he rumbled, the words both demand and seductive entreaty as he pulled you into the protective cage of his arms. You followed without hesitation, craving the scorching caress of his body like a moth drawn to the beckoning flame.

Chuuya led you through a discreet side door and into the velvet-draped intimacy of a private lounge area. Plush settees lined the perimeter, affording furtive glimpses into secluded little worlds of whispered secrets and sensual intrigue. Yet it was the massive picture window, revealing a panoramic vista of the glittering cityscape below, that enraptured you most.

With your back to the sparkling lights and Chuuya a solid immovable presence behind you, it felt as if you hovered betwixt two celestial planes - earthly rapture and heavenly transcendence. His hands found your waist, exerting gentle pressure until you swayed back against the unyielding strength of his chest.

"Look at them down there," he murmured, voice a darkly sensual caress against the sensitive whorls of your ear. "All those lost, empty souls going about their meaningless existences without the first notion of true passion."

You shivered at the stark devotion, the unvarnished ardor ringing in his tone. Chuuya's arms tightened around you in a possessive band, surrounding you in his scorching orbit until it felt like the only truth that mattered.

"They will never understand what it means to burn for someone the way I burn for you," he continued inexorably. "To have every waking breath consumed by an all-devouring yearning for just one perfect creature amidst the stars."

His lips branded searing trails from the fragile hollow beneath your ear down the slender column of your throat, each press of mouth to fevered skin both worship and carnal demand. You arched shamelessly into him, skin awakening in tingling waves of desperation for his touch, his mouth, his everything.

"You are my first and final ecstasy, sweetheart," Chuuya rasped against the thundering pulse at the base of your neck. "My religion, my rapture, my ritual of sanctification. Never forget that truth, no matter what sweet oblivion may try to tempt you."

He turned you then to face him fully, cradling your face between his calloused palms as if you were the most precious treasure to grace his world. For a suspended breath, you simply stared into the fathomless depths of his eyes, mesmerized by the eternal inferno of devotion banked within their crimson depths.

Then, as if pulled by cosmic tides, your bodies collided in a burningconflagration of hushed gasps and tangling limbs. Chuuya kissed you with all the passionate intensity of a man laying claim to his destiny, his universe. Lips, teeth, tongues - all merged into one searing brand of exquisite possession.

You clung to him helplessly, adrift on a roiling sea of desire and overwhelming reverence for this incredible man who cherished you so ferociously. If loving him was your sole purpose in this life, then you would count yourself among the luckiest souls in existence.

When the need for air finally became too urgent to ignore, you broke apart with trembling gasps. Chuuya immediately tucked you under his chin, rocking you both in slow, soothing sways as your ragged breaths slowly calmed.

"You're mine," he vowed once more, the words both fervent prayer and inviolable truth. "Every atom of your being calls to me, beguiles me, inflames me beyond the bounds of rational thought. I will spend eternity honoring that perfect siren's call."

Head bowed in reverence against the strength of his chest, you could only nod your wordless acquiescence, profoundly humbled and adored beyond your wildest capacity to comprehend. Safe amidst the sanctuary of Chuuya's ardor, you allowed your eyes to slip shut in serene contentment.

And somewhere within that transcendent moment, you knew without a shadow of doubt that you need never fear being lost again.

The world beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows blurred into abstract washes of light and shadow as you remained cocooned in Chuuya's steadfast embrace. In the whisper-soft atmosphere of the private lounge, time seemed to still to a gossamer trickle, each breath drawn out into subtle eternities.

Chuuya's fingers traced idle patterns along the exposed skin of your back, raising delicious frissons with every meandering caress. You basked in the exquisite torture of his wandering touch, every nerve ending alive and thrumming in hopeless supplication for more.

At long last, he drew back just enough to capture your rapt gaze, eyes blazing molten trails over the curves and hollows of your face.

"Do you understand now, my darling?" His low rasp danced like searing embers along your sensitized skin. "This rapture, this all-consuming ecstasy - it is both my prayer and my pyre. You are the divine flame to which I will gladly let my soul be immolated, again and again, until the end of eternity."

You could only nod, rendered breathless and incoherent by the sheer intensity of his veneration. But even that small acquiescence seemed to stoke Chuuya's ardor to blinding new infernos.

"Then let me worship you as you deserve," he growled, the words seeming to vibrate from that primal bassline resonating through his very core. "Allow me to pay tribute to your perfection in the only way that will ever suffice."

With agonizing deliberation, he sank to one knee before you in a stance of utter fealty. His scorching gaze roamed over your form, eyes glittering with unholyztradesty as they lingered on each newly bared expanse of skin revealed by the bunching fabric.

He pressed his lips to the ultra-sensitive skin of your inner thigh in a branding caress of reverence. "Every divine inch of you shall be adored as it deserves," Chuuya swore with hushed intensity. "Hallowed...consecrated...until you know nothing but the most exalted raptures this humble worshipper can provide."

A tremor of pure, potent yearning gripped you at his words, at the devoted promise woven through each sensual lilt and rumbling timbre. You reached for him with trembling hands, fingers tangling through his sweat-damp crimson locks as if to anchor him to you forever in this moment of transcendent bliss.

Chuuya's smoldering eyes flickered shut on a low groan of rapture as he turned into the caress. His palms mapped scorching paths up the curves of your calves and thighs in unhurried exploration, maddeningly drawing out each lascivious inch.

When his questing fingers finally brushed the apex of your thighs in a shockingly intimate caress, your knees threatened to buckle from the sheer intensity lancing through you. Only Chuuya's steadying grip on your hips kept you tethered against the relentless onslaught of sensation.

"So exquisite..." he rasped in awestruck wonder. "So utterly perfect in your rapture that I fear my insignificant skills are blasphemously inadequate to honor you properly, my goddess."

You struggled to formulate a coherent response, to beg and plead for him to take you past the dizzying precipice, but all that escaped was a tremulous keen of plaintive yearning. Instead you resorted to guiding his seeking hand with shallow, sporadic bucks of your hips, silently beseeching him for that elusive, maddening friction that would finally shatter you apart.

Even in your rapidly fracturing state, you felt the volcanic upheaval of Chuuya's restraint at the explicit demand. He actually growled against the satin skin of your inner thigh, teeth grazing harsh and unforgiving in clear punishment. Or perhaps rapturous benediction - with this man, it became increasingly difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.

"Patience, my perfect temptation," he purred in a voice shredded by banked embers of desire. "The ecstasy I have planned for your undoing demands an eternity of exquisite suffering first."

Leaning forward, he lay another searing trail of open-mouthed kisses along the taut swells and shadowed valleys of your desire. Each brand of his lips stoked the inferno of your aching need higher and higher until you thought you would be consumed by the flames.

At last, when you thought the tension might shatter you asunder, Chuuya's questing fingers hooked the delicate silk of your panties, dragging the flimsy garment down your trembling thighs. The fabric fell away to a puddle of scarlet and ivory about your feet.

You could hear the hitch in his breathing, a stuttered inhale of sheer reverence and lust. Chuuya pressed another fervent kiss to the crest of your hip, the action a silent supplication to the divine. Then, with agonizing care, he slid the silken fabric of the dress up the curve of your hips until it rested high on your waist.

You gasped at the sudden rush of cool air against your feverish flesh, cheeks burning at the brazen exposure of your most intimate areas. Yet the momentary flash of mortification quickly dissolved beneath the heady rush of desire and the molten blaze of Chuuya's stare.

His pupils were blown wide, devouring any trace of blue in his eyes until they gleamed blacker than pitch. A low groan emanated from deep within his chest as he traced one long finger through the slick arousal glistening upon your quivering thighs.

"Exquisite," he rasped, the word a breathless prayer on his tongue. "Such perfect, unspoiled purity laid bare before me. Let us see just how far my goddess will let this humble supplicant push her."

Without preamble, Chuuya's hands curled around the backs of your thighs, lifting and guiding you into the cradle of his arms with unwavering certainty. Then, with a low growl, he pressed his open mouth against the aching swell of your desire.

It was the only warning you received before his tongue swept up the length of your folds in a languid, decadent caress. The searing contact ripped a cry from your throat, the sound swallowed in the plush darkness of the room.

Chuuya hummed his own rapturous approval, the vibrations resonating through your very core in waves of liquid heat. Then he was tracing teasing patterns along your swollen flesh, lapping up each fresh wave of moisture like a parched man at an oasis.

Every nerve was electrified, thrumming and humming with each lick and swirl and nip of his tongue. Chuuya seemed content to take his time, coaxing the most decadent sounds from your lips as you writhed against him, helpless and desperate.

His fingers dug bruising crescents into the soft skin of your thighs, keeping you in place for his ravenous exploration. And as his tongue delved deeper, sliding and thrusting against your throbbing entrance, you felt yourself begin to spiral higher and higher.

"That's it, my perfect goddess," he groaned against you. "Show me just how beautiful you are in the throes of ecstasy."

With those murmured words, he returned his focus to the pulsing pearl at the apex of your thighs. He alternated between suckling the sensitive bundle and laving over it with broad strokes. Each caress sent you spiraling higher and higher, closer and closer to the brink of oblivion.

Just when you thought you might combust from the sheer intensity of it all, Chuuya sealed his mouth around the pulsing jewel, fluttering his tongue over the straining point in rapid, unrelenting strokes. The added stimulation sent you hurtling towards the precipice, crashing and tumbling in a freefall of white-hot pleasure.

You shattered apart, vision going white as the force of the release crashed over you in endless waves. Somewhere in the distance, you were vaguely aware of Chuuya's rumbling groan of triumph, the feel of his fingers tightening into a punishing brand against your thighs.

Your muscles clenched and quivered in helpless spasms as the aftershocks shuddered through you, leaving you sated and spent. Slowly, Chuuya guided you back to earth, kissing and stroking until the world re-emerged from behind a gauzy curtain of euphoria.

He pulled you close as you came back to yourself, murmuring soft words of praise and adoration as he pressed reverent kisses to your temple. You melted into him, boneless and pliant as the blissful lethargy set in.

"My beautiful, exquisite angel," he rumbled in a graveled whisper, lips tracing the shell of your ear in a sinfully sensual caress. "Now it's my turn to show you how perfect you are in my eyes, just the way you are."

Chuuya's declaration resonated through you like the ringing echo of a divine proclamation. You turned to face him, wanting to drink in the raw devotion and passion burning in his eyes.

But the moment you met his searing gaze, all thoughts of sweet adoration and poetic worship fled, replaced by a blistering inferno of primal desire. Chuuya's eyes raked over your face with such molten hunger, such naked want, that a frisson of electricity jolted down your spine.

In an instant, he was pressing his lips to yours in a scorching kiss of carnal possession. The taste of yourself on his tongue was both sinfully salacious and exquisitely erotic. You could do nothing but yield, helplessly enthralled by the raw intensity of his need.

Chuuya's hand wound itself into the disheveled locks of your hair, pulling your head back to deepen the kiss. He swallowed your keening moan of pleasure with a rumbling growl, devouring your mouth as if starved for the very taste of you.

His other hand fisted in the delicate satin, bunching the material in a vice-like grip until you could feel the cool night air dancing along the heated skin of your exposed ass. The sudden awareness of the scandalous, vulnerable position only stoked the inferno higher, sending new rivulets of slick dripping from your pulsing core.

"Such a good girl for me," Chuuya breathed, voice ragged and darkly sensual as he dragged his lips down the column of your throat. "Always so willing to spread those pretty thighs and offer yourself up to me."

The words resonated through your every molecule, echoing the primal rhythm thrumming in your very veins. You whimpered, arching against him in wordless supplication, desperate for him to take you and brand you as his.

Chuuya answered with a guttural snarl, the sound primal and possessive. He surged to his feet in one smooth motion, lifting you with him. You clung to him instinctively, legs wrapping around his narrow waist in a desperate bid to anchor yourself against the blistering tide of desire.

Then his cock was brushing against you, the velvet-soft skin stretched taught and hot against the wetness pooling between your thighs. Chuuya's hand slipped down, aligning his hard length with your entrance before slowly, torturously sinking into the wet heat.

Your head fell back on a moan as he buried himself to the hilt, stretching and filling you so perfectly. For a moment, all you could do was cling to him and try to regain a semblance of breath. But then Chuuya began moving, rocking his hips in shallow, experimental thrusts.

His pace was slow and measured, each stroke a delicious torment that left you trembling and gasping. Chuuya's grip on you was punishing, fingertips digging into the supple flesh of your ass. You could feel the tension in his powerful frame, the way each muscle strained and coiled beneath the onslaught of pleasure.

But no matter how desperately you writhed against him, how tightly you gripped his shoulders, Chuuya refused to relinquish control. Instead, he kept his movements infuriatingly slow and languorous, each unhurried glide sending you further and further towards the edge.

"Chuuya, please," you whimpered, shamelessly rutting against him in search of more. "I need -"

"Shhh, doll," he soothed, the words punctuated with a low grunt as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "I know what you need, and I'm going to give it to you. But I want to savor this perfect moment."

The raw emotion in his tone sent a shiver racing down your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You tightened your hold on his shoulders, nails scoring thin lines into the muscled flesh.

"Look out the window," Chuuya commanded, voice a low rasp of lust-drunk rapture. "Watch as the whole city bears witness to how beautifully you come apart for me."

Dazed and dizzy with desire, you forced your gaze to lift, drinking in the stunning panorama before you. It was a glittering expanse of lights and shadow, an entire cityscape laid bare for your viewing pleasure. And it was then that the true weight of Chuuya's command sank in.

Every facet of your pleasure was on display, an obscene spectacle for the entire city to witness. Anyone looking up from the street below would be treated to the lurid sight of your flushed, debauched body, writhing and arching against Chuuya in a frenzied state of utter wanton need.

Your inner walls fluttered and clenched, a rush of new heat and slick coating Chuuya's throbbing cock at the thought. He groaned at the sensation, a sound both exultant and agonized.

"Such a perfect little angel, aren't you?" His words were a darkly reverent growl, sending a fresh wave of pleasure jolting through you. "Let's put on a good show for them, sweetheart. Show them just who it is you belong to."

Chuuya's words were the final catalyst. The coil of tension wound within you snapped, sending you crashing and tumbling over the precipice. You cried out, a sound of pure rapture, as the waves of release washed over you in shuddering, relentless crests.

Dimly, you were aware of Chuuya's answering snarl, the harsh sting of teeth against the tender skin of your neck. His movements grew frantic, losing all trace of that practiced control as he chased his own climax.

His cock pulsed and twitched within you, each jerk and spasm intensifying your own pleasure. You rocked your hips against him, grinding yourself against the hard planes of his body. The additional friction pushed you right back to the precipice, poised on that shimmering knife's edge.

A single, well-placed thrust was all it took to send you spiraling into the abyss once more. Your teeth sunk into Chuuya's shoulder, muffling your wail of ecstasy as a gush of pure, hot liquid sprayed from your entrance, coating his thighs and cock in a torrential stream.

"Oh fuck, baby girl!" he grunted, burying himself as deep as possible as he found his own release. "Did you just -"

"Yes!" You sobbed, the word a strangled half-whisper as another rush of liquid gushed out. "Oh god, yes!"

Chuuya swore, hips jerking sporadically as he rode out the last tremors of his own orgasm. Then his arms tightened around you, cradling you against his chest in a protective band. His breath ghosted across your ear, a soothing murmur of praise and adoration.

"You're perfect, sweetheart. So utterly fucking perfect in every way. God, the things you do to me..." His voice trailed off into a groan of satisfaction as he pressed his forehead to yours, gazing into your eyes with such profound adoration that you thought your heart might shatter from the overwhelming intensity of it all.

"Never forget who you belong to, pet," he vowed, the words resonating with solemn promise. "I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you, if I have to."

In the ensuing hush, the only sound was the slowing of your mingled breathing, the soft rustle of Chuuya's clothing as he adjusted his hold on you. Slowly, he lowered you until your feet touched the floor, steadying you with an arm wrapped about your waist.

You blinked up at him, a dreamy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. The sight seemed to pull something loose within Chuuya's chest, the man giving a contented sigh.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmured, tenderly cupping your face. "Now let's get you home so I can continue worshipping this perfect body, just the way it deserves."

#bsd x reader smut #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #chuuya x reader smut #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara

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melrodrigo · 27 days

Text

music nerds

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jenna stumbles upon a tiny vinyl shop, and thinks the employee is mighty cute.

A/n: here it is nerds, my first jenna fic. Was in a silly goofy mood, I miss my babygirl so.

It started at the vinyl shop. You, rearranging the different records into the correct sections, stood humming absentmindedly to the tune of the song playing.

“How’s my favorite employee of the month doing?” Your coworker (and best friend) Harry pipes up, leaning on the shelves opposite you.

“You can stop calling me that, we both know the only reason I got crowned this month was because you missed six days and I had to cover for your ass.” You mumble, slightly annoyed. It had been a long day, with customers shuffling in and out without ever buying anything. It didn’t help that the only customers Harry attended to were girls he thought were cute.

He nudges you a little, trying to prompt you away from rearranging the vinyls.

When you don’t answer, he huffs a little and then makes his way to the back—no doubt about to take a nap—where he’ll stay until closing time.

You sigh softly, shaking your head.

Even though you loved Harry to shreds, you hated being his coworker. He could be trusted with nothing.

You move over to the next section, swaying a little to the tune, losing yourself in the music.

You’re aware of the jingle of the bell that indicates someone has entered as you shuffle through the records.

They could take care of themselves for just a few minutes, you reckon.

Soft footsteps sound from behind you, and the sound of someone putting a stop to the music makes you frown. Then, there’s a tiny scratching noise before the melody of I am Controlled By Your Love by Helene Smith sounds through the tiny store.

You can’t help the tiny smile that envelops your face; and the surprise that echos through your mind. You’d just found out about this song, while scrolling through a playlist someone had made for your celebrity crush, Jenna Ortega.

Apparently she liked the song, if you remembered correctly from watching one of her interviews passingly.

“Great choice.” You tell whoever put it on, still not turning to face them.

“Thanks, I’m surprised this place has it. I’ve been looking for weeks.” A girl answers, and it sounds vaguely familiar.

“Well, we sure do. One of the best vinyl stores in the country if I do say so myself.” You smile, finally finishing tampering with the discs and turn to your customer.

It takes everything in you to not gasp out loud—standing in front of you was the Jenna Ortega.

You feel your hands grip the shelves just a little tighter, and you prayed to god that Jenna didn’t see the blush very quickly climbing up your neck.

“One of the best, huh?” She smiles, and you swear you could feel your heart physically melt.

She looks, if not better, exactly like in the pictures. It’s surreal, this person you see almost everyday on your phone, standing in front of you.

She’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater and some baggy jeans. There are sunglasses blocking her eyes, maybe to try to avert attention, but you could tell in an instant who she was.

You think she knows too, by the way she’s smirking a little.

“Yeah, and there are a ton of artists just like the one you just put on, at the back corner over there.” You point with shaky fingers, cursing yourself for looking so stupid.

She nods and disappears further into the store, and you breathe out in relief.

Holy shit! Jenna Ortega!

You place a hand over your heart, reminding yourself to be normal and check if you’re still breathing.

“Uh-I’m sorry. I couldn’t find it. Where did you say?” She pops her head out from one of the shelves, cocking her head to the side.

You grab your bearings, determined to not make a fool of yourself.

You were an employee. Just an employee helping out a confused customer.

“It’s hard to find, believe me I know.” You smile reassuringly, sauntering over to where she was standing.

“Here, just follow me.” You say, weaving through the maze that was this tiny vinyl store.

She bumps into you a few times, saying a soft sorry as she does. You placate her worries with soft it’s okays everytime she does.

“Ahah! Right here. My pride and joy.” You beam, getting used to having her so close and relaxing.

“What would you recommend?” She muses, flicking through the artists.

“Well, I’m a Beatles girl myself,” You tell her, looking over the records, “but I am a sucker for The Mamas & The Papas.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, and you hold your hands up in defeat.

“I know, I know! I’m a mainstream whore.” You say before you can stop yourself, something definitely inappropriate to say to a customer.

Jenna lets out a little giggle, fast like she can’t help herself.

You take the opportunity to keep talking, since she seems interested in the music over here.

“But, there is another artist somewhere here, I think you’ll like.” You wink, then mentally face palm yourself.

You turn back to the records in order to hide your expression, finally finding the guy you were looking for.

“Frank Zappa.” You explain as you hand it over to her. “An instrumental.”

She looks at it thoughtfully, inspecting the album art; then looks up at you and smiles. Her brown eyes make you want to cry and scream, but you keep your composure.

“You have nice eyes.” She murmurs, eyes flickering over your face. Then, just as fast, she turns away and walks back the way you came.

“What just happened.” You breathe once she’s out of earshot, carefully walking back to the cashier.

She’s waiting, texting someone on her phone.

When you slide up behind the counter, all flirty smiles, she tilts her head.

“Took you long enough.” She teases, scrunching her nose in embarrassment unconsciously.

You stutter endlessly, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. It all comes out in one jumbled poor excuse of a sentence that you try to cover up with a cough.

You slide her things over and scan them, not daring to look at her probably smug face.

“That’s all.” You say, somewhat bashfully, stealing a glance back at her.

Her eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place, but something you can certainly feel. Warmth envelops you whole, your knees turning into jelly.

You put her stuff into a plastic bag, hand them over, and bite back the hitch of breath when your hand grazes hers.

She bites her lip thoughtfully, shifting on her feet. The bag is in her hands now, she’s free to leave.

But still, she stands there, looking like she’s thinking very hard about something.

You try and prompt her out of her thoughts, murmur a quiet, “Anything else?” and watches as she takes out her phone and pushes it to your side of the desk.

“Yeah. Your number.” She squeaks, blushing a faint pink. She clears her throat and says it again, in a tone deeper than before.

It takes absolutely everything in you to keep your mouth shut. It desperately desperately wants to drop, not quite computing what is really happening.

You take it before she can change her mind, quickly jamming in your number and taking a quick photo for the profile.

She beams as you hand it back to her, not bothering to stop the cheeky satisfied smile that wants to take over her lips.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” She asks, and you nod adamantly, forgetting all pretense of chill.

“Right. Uh huh. Super!” You call out as she makes her way out the door, shaking her head at your dorkiness.

“Holy shit!” You yell this time, breathing out a huge sigh of relief you didn’t even know you were holding.

You’re rooted to the spot, afraid that if you move you’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.

“Wha-What happened?” Harry comes tumbling out the back door, plastic baseball bat in hand.

You lock eyes with him and let yourself fall down into the nearest chair, all wild eyes.

“I just got Jenna Ortega’s number!” You tell him, letting your hands run through your hair, happy and stressed.

His eyes narrow, then he shoots you a lopsided smirk.

“Sure you did.” He says, letting the baseball bat fall beside him, guard down.

“No Harry, she really came in here! And asked me for my number!” You yell, exasperated.

You can tell he doesn’t really believe you, but all it takes is one good look at your face, all white and red at the same time, and he’s widening his eyes comically wide.

“No fucking way.” He gushes, sliding over to sit beside you. He practically preens over you, all questioning eyes.

“Well what did you do?” He pushes, waiting for you to elaborate.

You tell him the whole story, slightly reveling in his reactions. He never fails to make you laugh at his comments.

“So…what now?” Harry asks after a minute, raising his eyebrows.

You sigh. “I don’t know, I guess I’m gonna have to wait for her to call me. Who knows how long that’s gonna take.”

“Well, you better be ready for her when she does. Oh my god we so need to do a makeover.” He rambles, turning on his phone to look at hairdressers nearby. You lean back into your chair, overwhelmed.

For now, you’re worry-less. Jenna Ortega just asked for your number, and you think you couldn’t be luckier. The only thing to do now was wait, and so you do.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader

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lure-of-writing · 30 days

Text

His little Sister: I'm sorry

Summary: The mating bond between you and Azriel has been revealed and he isn't sure if any apology will ever make up for the hurt he has cause you.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: none that I know of

Authors note: Guys I just got my nails done so if there is typos it's because I'm not used to typing with daggers on my hands. But anyways that's not what we're here for. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Azriel was screwed. Royally screwed. Even as the spymaster of the night court he had no idea how he was going to get out of this one unscathed. First and foremost there was you. You were the mosting important thing in this giant mess that your cousin just caused and making sure you were ok was his first priority. That is once you inevitably get all of the hurt and betrayal out of your system. He could feel your emotions barrelling down the bond and it damn near made him crumple under the weight of your hurt. Next on the list of casualties was Rhysand. And by the look on the high lord's face it was a mixture of pure unfiltered anger and the need to protect his little sister. Azriel can’t blame him, you look like you could either rip him to shreds and bawl your eyes out while doing so.

Rationally Azriel knew that Rhys would never really do anything to hurt him but the other part knew that Rhysand played dirty when it came to his family and it was some sort of unwritten rule that he would go to the end of the world to make sure you were ok. If Rhysand played dirty before he was about to get filthy now. This would not be the first time he stepped toe to toe against a high lord, specifically against Rhys, but this time would without a doubt be different. This time Rhysand would pocket away all of the years of their friendship and in turn he would fight Azriel like a traitor. He, without trying, had broken your heart and betrayed your trust. To Rhysand this was the ultimate act of betrayal.

Only being one hundred years younger than your brother means all three males were also relatively young in the grand scheme of things. Rhysand held your tiny body against his. The three males had taken a break forming training in the mountains to visit you in Velaris. It wasn’t often Rhysand was allowed to leave the camps, much less often for Azriel and Cassian. But with the arrival of a new babe they had been permitted to leave. It became a tradition to visit the ever growing babe once a year. Somewhere in the chaos of training for the Blood Rite you had grown into a teenager. Cassian was sprawled out on one of the couches in the cabin and Azirel had taken his place in the chair that was unofficially deemed as his. There in a seat a little bit bigger than his own but yet still smaller than the couch Cassian claimed you were curled up against your older brother, peacefully sleeping.

Rhysand had always disliked the way things were run in the camps, oftentimes they made his blood boil but something changed in him the day you were born. Rhys knew from a young age that he would be a protector. A protector of his friends, his family, his people and his court. But he never knew that the most precious thing he would come to protect was you. He never wanted in the camps, walking amongst those who would take any opportunity to clip your wings or even kill you without a second thought. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do to stop your visit as your father deemed it necessary.

Silence was light in the room. Occasionally there was a pop or crackle from the fire, the sound of clothes shifting against the couch from Cassian and the light noise of you breathing. With a heavy sigh Rhys rubbed his face causing both males to look at their friend in confusion. “Something on your mind brother?” Cassian's deep voice filled the once quiet room. For a moment nothing was said as Rhysand just looked deep into the fire before once again sighing and rubbing his face before throwing his head back to rest on the couch. “What if I’m not capable of protecting her?” The two males looked at each other in confusion before turning their attention back on their friend. Everyone knew that the power Rhys possessed was quite frankly, insane, to put it simply. “Rhys, I think you're forgetting you are there, bud.” Once more Cassian's voice takes over the room. This time in a gentle laughter. “It’s not that I’m unaware of what I am capable of.” Rhys stops speaking as he looks down at your resting form laying against him. Gently he moves a piece of hair that had fallen in your face. “I know what I can do. What I am willing to do to keep her safe but I will not always be around to protect her and that is what I fear.”

“Being her brother is the greatest honor I have ever been given but what if I fail? What will it cost her? Just her being here possesses a threat to her life. Those males out there would not hesitate to clip her wings or flat out kill her. What happens when I am needed elsewhere and she is in trouble? Who will save her then? I know my mother is training her to fight but I never want her to be put in that position where she has to. Making sure she is safe, happy and loved is all I want for her. I never want her to experience the world we have endured.”

Neither males have a sister but they do have the love of siblings for each other and they know the lengths they would go to for the other males. They may not know what it's like to have a sibling but they do know what it's like to love you. Since the day you were born they have done nothing but love and dote on you. If you tripped and fell and scraped your knees Cassian would scoop you up and cradle you until you stopped crying. Only then would he set you somewhere where he could properly clean the cuts littering your body and then take you for a treat to make you feel better. Azriel would help you with any of the boring assignments your mother would hand out. “I don’t even know what this means!” you would groan out in frustration before dramatically letting your head fall face first into the book. Luckly Az knew you very well. Without looking up from what he was doing he placed his hand palm up in the book and waited for the impact of your head against his hand.

Finally once your head was in his hand, did he finally look up. “You may not understand it right now but eventually you will and you will be grateful your mother made you do this.” Groaning once more you left your head where it was. “Easy for you to say you're like a genius or something.” You grumble while Azriel lifts your head for you. Gently he pats the top of your head. “Maybe if you studied more you could be one too.” A mixture of a frustrated groan and sigh made its way through your lips causing Azriel to chuckle.

It was safe to say that they understood what a light you are in the world. In their world. And each male would do anything to protect it. “You know we would protect her with our lives, right?” Cassian now sat up on the couch. This conversation was important. “We have known her since the day she was born. We have watched her grow and reach each millstone just like you have Rhys. We would never let anything happen to her. If it were my life or hers, I would happily give up mine. I’m sure Az feels the same way.” And Azriel did. “You don’t have to worry about her by yourself. We can share the worry Rhys. You know you can count on us. If anything ever happens to you, we will protect her just as fiercely as you do. You know that right?” And Rhysand did in fact know that but there would always be some part of him that thinks only he will ever be able to do a good enough job at keeping you safe.

Apparently Rhysand was right. Only he would protect you. Azriel had broken his promise and now he would pay. Next on his list of people to deal with was Morrigian. At the moment she was not a priority but eventually would be. First he needed to survive the night.

If Azriel were to go back in time less than a week ago, he would have been more or less avoiding you. After his talk with Rhysand about the more interesting part of your relationship the shadowsinger thought it would be a good idea to give you some space, not wanting it to seem like he was trying to pursue something with you. Obviously that was the exact opposite of what he wanted but he was also keenly aware of your brother's disapproval of any male you chose to date. Azriel was sure he wouldn’t fare better than the others. On the other side Azriel truly had no idea how you would react to you being his mate and that terrified him.

He hadn’t seen you much since the training incident with Cassian. As much as it bothered him to not be able to check on your healing himself he had Cassian right there basically giving me second by second updates. Which he did appreciate but since Cassian knew you were his brother's mate he was being a little over the top. Which is why Azriel was not expecting to see you on the rooftop for the daily morning training session.

Az and his shadows watched from across the room as Cass ushered you back towards the house. That was until you saw him and course corrected to be right in front of him. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” The hurt in your voice made him feel like a terrible person but he also couldn’t give you the real answer why. Not right now and definitely not right here. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” He knew he was whispering but he also knew there were more listening ears then just yours, mainly Cassians. Azriel watched as Cassian scooped you up and walked back to where he was herding you, just moments before you veered off on your own.

As the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court there wasn’t much, if anything, that made him nervous. The piercing stare of your gaze following his every move was definitely unsettling. But his male ego wouldn’t let him slip into that unflinching state of mind that he would usually find himself in when sparring. Now he was keenly aware of each move he was making while in front of you. His need to impress didn’t go unnoticed by his brother. Thankfully Cassian decided to have mercy on his soul and let him get in a few good punches as his repayment for when Cassian did the same to him while in front of Nesta.

The daily sparring session was over sooner and also later then he wanted it to be. One part of him wanted to continue to impress you, even if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that you were even impressed in the first place. The other part of him just really wants to get the awaiting conversation over with. Azriel headed over the bench where his long forgotten shirt and water bottle had been previously placed. He had barely gotten in one drink of water when you appeared in front of him. “Why have you been avoiding me?” It was the same question that you had previously asked him before being dragged away by Cassian. And yet this time it made him even more nervous then the first time you had asked him. The last thing Azriel ever wanted to do was make you feel like he didn’t want to be around you. Even before the bond he wanted to be around you every chance he could get and you knew that. He needed a reason you would believe. A downfall that came with spending all of his spare time with you is that you were able to tell when he was lying better than anyone else in the inner circle. There was only one thing he could tell you that wasn’t the full truth nor a complete lie. Rhys wasn’t a fan of the relationship, or lack thereof, between the two of us and he needed to step back in respect for Rhysand.

Thankfully the mother was on his side that morning because you believed him.

Opening up his arms in a form of some peace offering he’s quickly wrapped in your arms. Even though hugging anyone who was sweaty was something that he knew drove you crazy you did it anyways and it warmed his heart. But watching you place your chin on top of his chest just about made his heart melt. He prayed that you wouldn’t be able to feel or hear just how fast his heart is beating, and it is not from the training.

Oh how Azriel wished he could go back in time to just a few days ago. Hell he would even go back to when he was avoiding you. Truthfully anything would be better than what was currently unraveling in front of him.

“How long have you known?” Azriel tore his eyes away from Morr to look at you. The look of heartbreak that painted your face was like a suckerpunch to his gut. He took a sharp breath in. You were always stunning in Azriels eyes but looking at you now was like looking like a fallen angel. As much as the poetic beauty was undeniable he also never wanted to see that look on your face again. He would do anything to make you trust him again.

“I-” Azriel didn’t realize just how dry his throat was until he tried speaking. Actually now that he was focused on his body he was pretty sure he felt like he was going to throw up. Swallowing he takes another deep breath. A quick glance to his right reveals Rhysand with a raised eyebrow and barely contained anger. “I’ve known since the war.” Azriel always imagined this moment would be very different. Just the two of you in private. And it would finally feel like a brick being lifted off of his chest.

But watching your reaction to his confession felt like the opposite. He watched as you blew out a heavy breath and grabbed the back of Morrigians chair for support. Looking at the look he watches a tear finally free itself and makes its way to the ground. Just as quickly as the first tear had fallen the rest had also followed suit. He watches as you shake your head and look at your brother for the answer of what you are supposed to do. The dining room had never been as quiet as it was in these waking moments and Azriel despised it. Even if he was the cause of it. “You’ve known for almost a year and you never told me?” The spymaster watched as you fought against the lump in your throat only for your voice to crack on the last word. “Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to let me continue to dream about the love I desired. Let me think I was never going to get the love Rhys and Fey have? You’ve known for months!” Azriel sat unmoving as your betrayal turned to sadness and then anger. You had never raised your voice and yelled at him before but he knew he deserved every ounce of anger you threw at him. “You-you out of all people knew how I felt about mates and yet you held this from me. My mate! I-I-I -oh my god.” Time seemed to slow down in that moment as he watched you grab your chest in pain then collapse to the floor. He felt himself rise. Azriel wasn’t sure why, was it to move to the other side of the table and comfort you? Was it in shock? Fear for your breaking heart? He wasn’t sure. It was like slow motion as Mor swiftly twisted out of her seat and caught your limp body on the way down to the floor. Together the two females sat on the floor. Morrigian had wrapped her arms around your body and held you pressed against her chest as you sobbed.

“Azriel!” That was the commanding voice of a high lord. The force of which Rhysand said his name and allowed his power to wash over him was the only thing capable of pulling his focus off of your crumpled body. Looking back to his right he notes that Rhysand has pushed the chair he was previously sitting in far behind him. It didn’t go unnoticed how Feyre made her way to you with urgency. The primal anger and need to protect his family also didn’t go unnoticed by the shadowsinger. He was about to get his ass beat. If not altogether killed. Rhysand may have been mad at Cassian for hurting you but he did go easy on him, even if it resulted in a few nasty bruises littering his body. Azriel knew for sure this would be nothing like that time. Rhysand had a look of death in his eyes and Azriel was sure death was waiting to greet him.

“Uh oh. Yeah you guys may want to get out of here it's about to get ugly.” Cassian also stood from where he was once seated and began stretching. Noting Feyres' worry Cassian continued “Don’t worry I won’t let them hurt each other too much.” He paused, “Well I won’t let them kill each other.”

Only after everyone except Mor and Cassian had winnowed away his Rhysand lunge at Azriel.

Ever since learning that you were his mate one of his shadows followed you religiously. He never even told them to do that, it was just something they did naturally. His shadows always were ones to keep an eye on you even if you were completely safe.

That's how he found himself in front of the river house. His shadows danced around him in warning of the two females sitting in the living room still awake at this hour. Without looking at a clock Azriel would assume it was around three in the morning. Gently he pushes the hard oak door open only closing it after allowing himself inside the quiet house. Azriel knew he could make his way to your room without either one of the females knowing but he assumed it was better to get everything that could tear him apart over with while he was down.

“I feel bad for her. I know what it's like when the other person knows they're your mate and you're left in the dark. But this is something else. If Mor hadn’t said anything would he?” He could hear the voice of his concerned high lady. “Do we know if she even still has a mate? Rhysand looked like he was going to kill him.” Nestas' voice that usually dripped in sarcasm was dry as bone. Stepping into the room he made his footsteps louder than he would ever step to announce his presence. A sharp gasp was the only noise that Feyre made as she brought her hands to cover her mouth. “Oh my gods” The scraping of the chair against the wooden floor pulls his gaze from the spot on the floor he found particularly interesting to see Feyre making her way over to him. Over her shoulder he could see Nesta taking inventory of the damage Rhysand caused. “Are you ok?” He shrugs off her question but allows her gentle hands to move his head from side to side.

“How is she?” Everybody knew who he was talking about. Feyre led him to the couch ushering him to sit down as Nesta answered “As well as you can expect.” Feyre had stepped out of the room to grab a pain relieving tonic “She just fell asleep a few minutes before you got here” she pushes the vial into his hands “Drink” she insists. “I never meant for it to go like this. For it to get this far without me telling her. I just was waiting for her to feel it herself but then I just kept waiting and waiting and waiting and the next thing I knew I was sitting at that table listening to Mor tell her. I promise I never meant to hurt her. You know that right? You have to believe me.” The constant throbbing throughout his body finally forced him to drink the tonic in hopes it could even touch the pain he was feeling. “I’m sure you never meant for this to happen az. But why didn’t you just tell her. Anyone with eyes could see that she already had feelings for you.’’

“I wanted it to be her choice. I would never force her to accept the bond. All I want is for her to be happy no matter what.” A heavy sigh fell from both females before the peaceful silence filled the room. Nesta was the first to leave in hopes of getting at least an hour of sleep before she needed to be awake for training. With a gentle squeeze of his arm Feyre stands above him “I Believe you Az. But you need to understand how hurt she is currently feeling.” looking up he sees not his high lady or Rhysands mate but a concerned friend. “I know I can feel it through the bond.” Feyre smiles sadly before stopping in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Go be with her Az. You both need it.”

The warmth of the fire was the first thing Azriel noticed upon entering your room. Although fae ran warmer than humans you were the rare exception. Unless absorbing heat from the sun or another person you were on average at least ten degrees colder than anyone else. A small smile found its away to his face to see the fire going. His own personal relationship with fire may be nonexistent but for you he would endure it a hundred times over. The next thing he noticed was your sniffling and quiet sobs. In three large strides he was kneeing besides your bed. “Y/n” you name was like a whisper of a prayer in a silent coven meant for worship. He watched as your eyes opened to meet his and listened as a sob racked your body. “I am so sorry baby” Quickly he raised from where he was previously knelt on the floor and climbed into bed with you. The move to place your body on top of his was easy but listening to the silent cries of your heart breaking wasn’t. “I never meant to hurt you I swear.”

Eventually the tears raining upon his chest and was replaced with the gentle breathing of your sleeping form. Azriel knew he should sleep but he couldn’t help but admire every part of you just in case this was the last time he got to hold you like this. That's why he wasn’t startled when Rhysand barged into your room, startling you awake. “I told you to stay away from her. I’m going to kill you.” He promised. Azriel didn’t take his eyes off of your brother as you raised to sit in between his legs. Rhysand could do whatever he wished but Azriel wouldn’t leave without making sure you were ok first. “Rhys don’t. You may be mad at him, but Azriel is my mate.” The bond had never sung in happiness like it did basking in the warmth of your acknowledgement.

Taglist

@kemillyfreitas @lana08 @willowpains @username199945 @tothestarsandwhateverend

@kylaisra @lilah-asteria @nickishadow139 @br0klynbby @blacktreacle22

@amysangel @mp-littlebit @mybestfriendmademe

@olive-main @mariahoedt @tele86 @marina468 @fangirlloza010 @kennedy-brooke

#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #azriel one shot #rhysand x sister!reader

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rodolfoparras · 3 months

Note

Had a very vivid dream of a man mounting on me, of course I had to turn it into Price always somehow. Also I have an underlying guilt of wanting to be baby trapped so...

Tw: Babytrapping (?) Abo elements

Old man omega Price who has given up on finding a prospective partner years before, until Alpha reader come along.

He can't believe an old man like him snagged someone so young and virile, can satisfy the whole task force but no you choose him, coming to knock at his door if you need a quick "fix" to satiate your alpha.

Of course he's your captain, and a good one takes care of his soldier. Though you refuse to mark him, only a grip at his waist, to make him permanently yours, it clouds doubt in his mind. Say, one plentiful night after a successful operation everyone came down to the base's nearest pub, and every omega preening to take you home.

And he sees blood, although you weren't his, although you only meet at dark to satiate each other's needs, he feels livid seeing you with others, apart of the taskforce or not. He doesn't interfere,broodingly sitting at the corner, finishing bottles of whisky.

So on the off chance, after you've stumbled back to the shared living complex, Price awaits at your door, a beast ready to take it's prey.

He claws at you, sending you tumbling down your bed as you're shred off your clothing. Your make out was quick and fast, Price taking your hardened member and immediately bouncing on it without a care in the world, you not getting a word out on using protection.

You hiss at your climax, gripping onto his waist like it was the thing that was only keeping you grounded from the sheer overstimulation. He hopes it takes, doubling his efforts on riding you.

And at night when you're all tuckered out, drained and beyond. A satisfied hum leaves his lips a hand rubbing his stomach, you may never bite him, claim him as yours.. maybe a baby would change your hesitance

-💫

Content warning: a/b/o, baby trapping, questionable consent, 18+,

Okay but hear me out Price growing more and more fond of the thought of carrying your mark, loses his mind when he feels your lips graze his neck or when you got an iron grip on his throat as you fuck him into the mattresses. It’s even better when the marks from your fingerprints turn into bruises and lingerie for days so that everyone can see them.

It doesn’t take much before he cooks up a plan on how he’ll actually get you to mark him- how he’ll get you to be with him for as long as he lives.

It starts with him riling you up, making you see red by watching him flirt with a good for nothing alpha at some dingy bar while you’re right there.

And when the two of you are all alone, you don’t waste a second before you got him corned, quickly smashing your lips together and ripping the clothes off of him.

But just when he’s about to sink down on your dick you tell him maybe you should wear protection, half heartedly digging around for a condom but he distracts you from it - maybe with a couple of words and with a sweet smile on his face or even with kiss, cerulean eyes watching closely the way your body relaxes under him.

He doesn’t waist a second before he’s realigning your cockhead up with his entrance, and sinking down your dick, swiftly setting a steady pace with his hips.

He deserves this, he thinks to himself as he practically bounces in your lap.

He belongs to you and you belong to him, he thinks to himself, watches you, blurry eyed and mouth agape as he inches closer to the edge.

He’ll have you, even if it means having to put a baby inside him, he thinks to himself, stays seated on your dick even when your knot has long gone down and you’ve long fallen asleep.

#this isn’t perfect but it’s def more than what I’ve written the past days and I really loved this idea !!#call of duty #john price x reader #john price x male reader #john price #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #top male reader #bottom male character

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nicksbestie · 2 months

Text

i know it won't work - C. Sturniolo

Summary : "part of me wants you back, but i know it won't work like that"

Warnings : very angsty. crying, heartbreak, yk the drill. nothing triggering though!

Word Count : 1000

Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (past romantic)

A/N : i was listening to this song in the car this morning, and boom here comes this fic idea!

You regretted ever moving to Boston.

You hated the city, hated who it reminded you of. You couldn’t leave your house without feeling trapped in the space that you had once adored to travel with the person you had loved with your entire heart. If you had the money, you would have moved far away by now. All you could do was be so grateful that the two of you hadn’t moved in together, because you would have actually had to leave. As much as you hated that you were still here, leaving would have torn the pieces you were already in right into shreds.

You sat in front of the empty closet in your guest room, tears rolling down your face as you processed that it would stay empty for a long time. You couldn’t bring yourself to fill it, wanting it to stay empty just on the off chance that he came back, that he needed someone, somewhere to stay, somewhere to put his things. If he needed space that he could only find in your home, you would have space for him. He could inhabit that space for as long as he wanted, as he inhabited your heart still, living in it despite how tightly it was clenching in pain, as if to squeeze him out.

You couldn’t bear the thought that he might never come back, that you really may never see him again, that you might not get to love him again like you used to. How could you bring yourself to deal with the idea that this might be it? Your number wasn’t blocked, but it seemed like he couldn’t find a way to softly tell you that there was no chance he was coming back, so he simply left all of your texts on delivered. Despite how heartbroken you were, you knew there was no way that you could go back to loving him in a non romantic way. There were two ends of the spectrum, and you knew that you would either love him endlessly, or hate him relentlessly. You hoped it never came to be the latter.

Chris knew you were still waiting on him. He knew you were hoping he would change his mind, that he would turn around and run back to him, and the breakup was killing him as well. He couldn’t lie to himself like he could to you, he had thought about going back. He had thought about claiming it was all a lapse in judgment, that he still loved you with everything in him, but he worried that he wasn’t worth all of the hope you were saving for him. He’d paced around his room so much that he had nearly worn holes in the floor, and even his brothers had begged him to fix things, but he just couldn’t do it. He really did believe that this was the best move for the both of you, but he couldn’t deny the doubt creeping into the back of his mind. After all, it had been a long relationship, one spanning just over five years. How could he just let that go?

You’d run into each other in a store, and you’d both seen your face on the other person’s. The dark under eye circles, the bloodshot eyes, the signs of sadness sinking into your bones. Neither of you could speak to the other one, simply staring before Chris broke the eye contact, walking away. It killed you to look into his eyes knowing that he clearly didn’t want you back, an opinion so different from how you felt. You didn’t know that he did want you back, desperately, but was trying to make it easier for you by cutting things off. He wished that you would find someone else, that you’d put yourself out there, because seeing you with someone else might help him snap back into reality, help him get over it as well.

He was torn. He knew you were still holding on to him, and part of him wanted you to let go, wanted you to move on, to love someone who wasn’t him, but the other part of him wanted to shrivel up and die at just the thought of your arms around anyone who wasn’t him, your lips on anyone else’s skin. But it would make it easier for him to realize that you really weren’t his anymore, and maybe that was just what he needed. Maybe. He had broken up with you in person, knowing that he owed you at least that, but the call to you to ask when he could come pick up his things from your place had been one of the hardest calls you’d ever received. The ghost of your relationship being inside your apartment had made the entire building feel haunted.

He knew he was being an idiot, but he wanted to think that his heart was in the right place. Both of his brothers knew he was being an idiot, to the point that Nick showed up to talk to you, and Matt was talking to Chris, desperately trying to fix things between the two of you. The conversation between you and Nick just ended up with you sobbing in his arms, him trying to convince you that it would be okay, that Chris loved you, that he would realize and he would come back. The one between Matt and Chris wasn’t going much better, Chris having angry tears streaming down his face, trying to convince Matt and himself that it was for the best.

“It isn’t going to work.”

“Make it work.”

You were in Nick’s arms, silent, enjoying the comfort but hating why you needed it, when your phone dinged from behind you. Nick picked it up, checking who it was before nudging you.

“Here. You want to read this.”

Chris <3 : I know I tried to cut all ties but you’ve never left my mind. Can we make this work?

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mistywaves98 · 2 months

Note

REQUESTING A PART TWO FOR SIREN SCARA? U GOT ME ADDICTED I LOVE HIM HES SO PERFECT <3333

Maybe he can turn into a human on land? I wouldnt mind hiding him from some hunters just for him to find us in our room/boat later <3

I've so many asks begging for more siren! Scara lmao, but I can't blame any of you, he is perfect 🙏🏻🙏🏻

✧･ﾟ:* ->Siren! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Pet name is used twice ('little captain'), Brief fingering, Sub! Reader, Dom! Character!

That old hag of a sea witch was pretty sketchy, but at least he can traverse land freely now, is what Scaramouche thought to himself as he cautiously practiced walking for the first time on the shoreline. So this is how humans move about everyday? Scaramouche figured that being able to zip around beneath the waves was much more efficient, but he would have to get used to these legs for a while if he was hoping to meet you again.

Despite having a human lower half, that didn't change the fact he still retained most of his sirenic features. And of course that was bound to be a nuisance. And a nuisance it was as Scaramouche found himself being persued by a group of hunters who only saw him as a walking money bag. He barely managed to get away, ducking into a dark alley way as they ran straight past.

Coincidentally, the building also happened to be the same seaside inn he saw you staying at. Scaramouche glanced up and saw the an open window illuminated by the glow of a lantern that no doubt lead to your room.

The last thing you were expecting as you curled up on your bed, reading a book peacefully, was to see someone climbing through your window with a grin on his face which showcased rows of sharp teeth. It didn't take long for his identity to click in your mind though as your eyes widened, slowly placing down your book as you sat up, "Scaramouche...?"

His smiled seemed to widen at your recognition as he wasted no time in crawling onto your bed, hastily pinning you down with his body. He leaned down, licking the shell of your ear sensually as he whispered,"Yes, my little captain. It's me, surprised? I knew you'd be. I went through quite a bit of trouble to get you, so I don't suppose you'll let me reward myself a bit now, do you?" Scaramouche's eager hands fiddled with the hem of your pants, already hooking his fingers around the waistband to pull them down.

You blushed at his forwardness, still in slight shock that the siren who was supposed to be sea-bound was now pinning you to your bed and begging for your pussy. But you weren't complaining but the urge to tease him for his eagerness was too strong,"Oh— Not even a hello..? You know, it's pretty rude to just climb through one's windows without notice," Scaramouche chuckled at that, bringing up a hand to grab your face, nails digging into the soft skin as he spoke in a tone that contrasted his deathly grip,"Trying to tease me now, are you? It's all fun and games till I'm the one teasing you with the thought of cumming. Is that what you want? For me to edge you till you cry?"

Your answer didn't really matter to him, all his mind was focused on was getting to put his dick in your pussy. Before you could get another word out, he used his nails to slice away your pants and underwear, leaving them in shreds as your folds glistened in all their glory. His pupils narrowed at the sight, red splashing his cheeks as he looked up to meet your embarrassed face,"So you wanted to 'take it slow' while you're practically dripping for my cock. Ironic, isn't it?"

Scaramouche dragged his index along your slit, gathering your slick before bringing it up for you to see. The way he was taunting you about your own arousal made you bite your lip as you shifted uncomfortably, hands fisting the sheets. The siren revelled in your movement, it was like holding the little fish he would catch and eat for dinner, so wriggly and desperate.

Without warning, he pushed two fingers inside you, knuckle deep before pumping them in and out at a steady pace. You inhaled sharply, face heating up,"Scara—!" "Mm.. Yes, my little captain, say my name like that.." His fingers worked their way inside of you, occasionally doing scissor motions to try and loosen you up in preparation for taking his cock. When he decided that he'd done enough prep, he removed his fingers from your gaping hole, watching it clench around nothing as you attempted to protest.

A hand covered your mouth to silence you before you suddenly feel a stinging burn in your lower half as he penetrates you, bottoming out immediately. He groaned as your walls clenched around him, he'd never felt anything like it before. And he wants more, he wants to feel your walls convulse around him forever. Scaramouche holds your hip with one hand, the other moving from your mouth to push down on your chest as he thrusts into you, albeit a bit sloppy at first but eventually picking up a pace, going deep and hard.

Your breath struggles to stay even as you grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself. Each roll of his hips against yours sends you to heaven and back, the room filling with the sounds of your moans and skin on skin. Your orgasm is inevitable, and you let him know through gasps and cries for more,"Ahn...! C-cumming—! Nngh..—!" Scaramouche's grip on your hips tightened as he heard that, fins twitching with anticipation as he muttered huskily,"Do it. I wanna watch you come undone on my cock.."

He didn't need to repeat himself as you felt the knot in your stomach snap, cunt clenching around him one last time before coating the base of his length with a creamy white ring. The look of utter bliss on your face as you came made him come too, pace faltering as he buried his load inside of you. When his thrusts finally came to a stop, he let himself collapse on top of you, nuzzling the crook of your neck as he engulfed you with his arms.

Scaramouche didn't bother to pull out, preferring to just lay there with you as you both panted heavily, basking in the aftermath of your actions. Your body twitched, thighs trembling as you take a few minutes to process what just happened. His seed is still hot inside you, making your lower half feel warm,"That..that was amazing.." You managed to whisper, a low hum coming from him in response.

You felt a combination of his tongue licking and teeth nibbling a fold of skin on your neck, his face flushing as he tasted the salty tinge of your sweat,"Mhm...It's worth taking the risk to see you. I'll be doing that more often from now on.."

"So expect a lot of surprise visits from me. Maybe I'll even bother saying 'hi' this time.."

#genshin smut #smut #x reader smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader smut #✧･ﾟ:* meena's memos! ✧･ﾟ:*#scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader smut #scara smut #scara x reader smut

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wonuvs · 6 months

Note

hii, i was wondering if you could do ot8 straykids whether they prefer boobs, ass, or thighs ???

ㅤ ♡ ͟ ׂ ㅤ 𝖲𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖸 𝖪𝖨𝖣𝖲 + 𝖡𝖮𝖮𝖡𝖲, 𝖠𝖲𝖲 𝖮𝖱 𝖳𝖧𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖲?

pairing: ot8 skz x afab!reader

genre: smut

note: late, but it's here :3

CHAN.

ass man, with no doubt in my (and everyone else's) mind. i bet all he can think about while getting off on his own is how perfectly your ass jiggles and bounces and swallows his cock. he has entire folders on his phone of exactly that. and when out in public, with friends, or while cuddling or making out on the couch, his hands always somehow fall on your backside. and he loves loves loves it when you decide to wear short shorts or skirts, always takes up the chance to slide his hand under it to knead at your soft skin. (also, bet he'd try to coerce you into starting to go to sleep naked just like he does just so he can freely grope the swell of your ass as you innocently sleep.)

MINHO.

contrary to popular belief, I strongly believe that he's a thigh man. whenever he fucks you from behind, he always comes all over your ass and thighs—because sure, he loves grabbing and slapping butts whenever he can, but thighs really do something to him. while out on walks, or in the comfort of your own apartment, his eyes always fix on the slight jiggle your thighs make with your every step, and his cock can't help but twitch in his pants at the thought of him fucking them right there against the kitchen counter and covering them with his hot cum. and if you are at an event with an outfit that shows off your perfect thighs to not only him, but everyone else? be good and let him fuck them in the bathroom, let him stain the fabric so everyone knows whose you are~

CHANGBIN.

ohhh, he's OBSESSED with the softness of your thighs and boobs, finding every excuse to palm and grope them even at the most inappropriate of times. whipping a quick breakfast for him and his members at the dorms just before they have to leave for a schedule? you can bet binnie is already behind you, one hand playing with your nipples and soft skin over your (his) shirt as the other palms your squishy thigh. out with both of your families for dinner at a fancy, busy restaurant? his hand has been toying with the sensitive skin of your inner thigh (and underwear) since you left home, leaving you completely flustered and needy. what can he do, though? he's utterly obsessed with them, with you, and he sometimes even begs you to let him suck on your tiddies until he falls asleep. so so cute :(

HYUNJIN.

boobs. abso-fucking-lutely boobs. unless he himself comes out to say he's not a boob man, i stand by my belief that hyunjin is, in fact, a boob man. like—just the fact that during concerts he's always grabbing and squeezing the chests of the most well endowed members is enough proof that he is one. also, i bet that he slides his hands under his s/o's shirt and holds onto their titties to fall asleep, saying that cupping them in his big hands makes him sleep better and have no nightmares. (he'll also suck boobies for hours on end without ever getting tired of it, but that's a story for another time)

JISUNG.

thighs—they are just so so perfect. your plush skin is the best thing to dig his nails into when you ride him or sit on his face; and he's obsessed with the intimacy of it. of leaving wet, sloppy kisses all over your thighs, sucking lovebite aver lovebite on your squishy skin until no piece of flesh is left unmarked just before ravaging you for hours on end. and even after you fall asleep next to him, both of you exhausted and sweaty from your multiple orgasms, a glance at your thighs as you lay sideways wakes his soft cock right up.

FELIX.

definitely would love to be fucked by a gorgeous set of boobs everyday. he's bewitched by the sight of hardened nipples peeking through sports bras and tight t-shirts, and all he can think about whenever he sees a pair of bouncy ones is how he'd just love to rip that useless piece of cloth to shreds and let his dick be relentlessly fucked by them. only the thought of cumming on them on a daily basis makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

SEUNGMIN.

i don't think he'd have a set preference, but just be slightly more inclined towards boobs and thighs, and i don't really have an explanation for that. he just gives me the vibes of the type of boyfriend that innocently cups your boobs over your shirt as you watch a movie, or places his hand on your thigh during social gatherings. nothing too telling on what might be his favorite part of yours, until you slowly start noticing just how much he enjoys nibbling at your nipples and the skin around it during sex, start noticing the smug look on his face when he realises he can make you come just by nipping and teasing them—and oop, you may have just found out what he prefers between the three.

JEONGIN.

i feel like it's so obvious that he is an ass man? like, i'm sorry, but do y'all not see this man as a spanker? as a meanie that just loves leaving handprint after handprint on his s/o's asscheeks? i just know his hands are always on his s/o's ass whenever they are home alone or with close friends, as well as when they are out and about and he notices a few too many people staring at them, kind of unconsciously doing it whenever he feels a bit territorial—though he quickly forgets about any of that when he feels just how soft and squishy their asscheeks are, no matter what they are wearing. i bet he's also the type to grind against them if his s/o is bent over for some reason. might chuckle and move on with his day, or pick them up and bring them to their bedroom to fuck them from the back, and leave some more dark handprints, senseless. (also loves it when his long cock disappears in between their asscheeks and he has to physically spread them. makes him come so hard)

taglist : @maximumkillshot

#anonymus #skz hard thoughts #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids smut #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz #stray kids #skz hard hours #skz headcanons #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids headcanons #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios

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silentium-symphony · 14 days

Text

A Lamb in Wolf's Clothing (Link x Reader) SMUT

(a/n) hey ya'll! i'm so sorry for going MIA for a few months--as some of you may know, I have just recently graduated from college, so there are a lot of big changes happening in my life right now! i appreciate your continued patience with me :) this fic was commissioned by the lovely @mistressofdeathsblog! thank you for giving me such a fun prompt, I had a lot of fun trying smth new and I hope you enjoy it too!

before you start reading, please take special note of the cw below. also, please remember that this is not a healthy relationship you want to emulate and is written for the sole purpose of entertainment. if you are in a relationship that strips your autonomy and you feel unsafe bringing this issue up to the offending party/parties, please reach out to someone you trust. there is no power in staying if there is no freedom to leave. stay safe out there.

and ofc, since this is smut, minors do not interact with this piece.

cw: dubcon, afab!reader, ooc!link since i highly doubt Hylia's Hero would be so life-alteringly possessive of their lover, tp!link, reader being chased, reader being held against their will, blood, tight spaces, swearing, name-calling, dumbification kinda??, cunnilingus, doggy, mirror/standing sex

wc: 5k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Sweat and blood dribbled down your forehead, stinging your eyes with a salty, metallic bite. Thorn-kissed hands grasped and blindly waded through thick patches of bramble. The dark, bristling whips that surrounded you worked every exposed piece of skin into a raw, bloody mess quivering from the forest's cruelty.

You couldn't care less.

The birds overhead guffawed at your efforts as splotches of pale moon danced mockingly, titillatingly along the cold earth. You chased every moon patch with the frenzy of an escaped convict a morning away from freedom.

Because that's what you were, really.

The beginnings and ends of thoughts knotted and frayed into each other, flurrying your head into a cohesive garble. Just how big was this forest? It looked like a sprawling mess from the fortress you were locked up in, but it was absolutely impenetrable now that you were in the thick of it. It was as if the very woods were enchanted to keep you from ever escaping.

A ring of pain hooked the topside of your foot, propelling all of your momentum downwards and towards the forest floor. You couldn't even scream before you bashed your cheek through a thin layer of crusted mud. The cold soil caked your flushed cheeks--the only shred of relief you've felt since your mad sprint to freedom.

Your spine slinked up into a curl--a pathetic attempt to get up, to begin your chase again, but your battered body refused to endure further abuse. (E/C) eyes flitted about you, trying to interpret the shadows that danced and weaved through the trees.

Running in this state would be pointless. You dug your forearms and elbows to crawl towards an ivy overhang that promised hidden refuge and curled into as tight of a ball you could muster. The silky white dress he gifted you had been ripped past recognition. The airy fabric that once brushed your ankles now clung tightly to your blood-laced thighs, soiled from the toils of flight. You pulled your legs closer; your lungs fought for precious breath against your pounding heart.

What a shame. If only it weren't beating so fast, you might have heard the crack of a single twig located too close for comfort.

From several paces into the unseen was a pair of blue eyes misted over with sinful hunger; your quivering, shorn form was scintillating to watch and feasted his mind with imaginations more heart-racing than the last. Your blood, sweat, and tears mixing with your natural scent proved to be the most tantalizing olfactory cocktail, scattering his thoughts into overdrive.

He hated the rush he got from seeing you like this--lost and confused without his guidance through these nested thorns, yearning for warmth and safety he knew he could provide (and had been providing since you stumbled into his castle that fateful day).

Why did you leave him? Was he not enough for you? But he'd given you everything! Everything! Freshly made home-cooked meals, tailored clothes that hugged your form, a bed warmed by him, his body...

He could still feel the soft plush of your flesh sinking and dimpling in his hands as he thrust into you with the faux tenderness of a starved man. Your beautiful eyes locked with his own, only leaving to disappear into the back of your head. Your mouth agape to let the cutest sounds escape...

If you were happy with him, why were you leaving him?

Not waking up to your face smooshed into his pillows, not beholding you in all the pretty silk and ribbons he had lying around, not fucking you in every position you could possibly think of, not spending every waking moment with you...

Why, he'd rather die.

If it made you happy, he'd allow the ambrosial drippings of freedom to bead your lips.

If it made you happy, he'd let you delude yourself into thinking you were far enough from the castle to be away from him.

But only for now. Link prided himself on his chivalry and patience, but even that was growing thin from your incessant attempts of escape. He was going to have to show you why it was such a good idea to stay here with him, forever and ever and ever.

You were nodding off now, it seemed. The way your head kept dipping and rising in a futile attempt to stay wary was so adorable, he just had to ravish you right then and there! He had barely managed to stave off his intrusive thoughts as he stalked closer to you, still clinging closely to the dark cloak that hung off twisted branches.

You saw something shift from the corner of your eye; your neck snapped up and a croak clawed out of you.

"Who's there?!"

Silence.

Why was it so quiet?

Had it always been so quiet?

Where have the birds gone?

A familiar silhouette emerged from the trees.

"L-... Link..." Your throat, parched and scratched from heaving the cold night air, rang a voice unfamiliar to you.

Azure eyes that once beheld you with all the love in the world now stare back with deadpan coldness. Words need not be exchanged here; his presence alone blew any hope of escape in the next breeze that ruffled his fur.

A calculated step towards you retreated you further into your little alcove, a prayer that the ivy could take you in as one of its own on your lips. There was no telling what he was thinking, or how close to the edge he was. But that look, that hunger.

That familiar, craved look your body knew too well pulsed anxious tingles through your fingertips.

Another step.

Then another.

Another.

Finally,

He was here.

You could feel him, all of him--his hot breath against your arms, his fur bristling against your thigh, his warmth freezing your blood where it ran. You hadn't realized how much you were shaking until you heard the rhythmic shifting of ivy buzzing into your ear.

He pressed his head into your lap, prying you open to make way for him. And you sat there, obeying him like the perfect little doe you were. As he lazily dragged a tongue across your thigh, lapping at the dried blood that crusted your flesh, he looked up. Relief, adoration, love. That stifling comforting, possessive protective obsession love that he had so readily wrapped you in the moment he met you. For a moment, he looked like a lamb in wolf's clothing.

So many thoughts swirled inside you, your brain numbing to prevent overstimulation. But amongst the chaos, a single thought backdropped every complicated emotion you were feeling.

He had found you.

Had it not been for the blood drumming through your ears and temples, you would have thought time had frozen in this purgative state. He was splayed atop you now, seeming to rest from his hours-long stalking; he wasn't crushing you, but it was clear he had all the control in this dynamic. Any undesirable shift away from him, to preserve your own personhood, would most certainly have led to a 'gentle' nudge toward him.

A single cobalt eye lazily cracked open after a million years ticked by. His piercing gaze, though fringed with some life, made it abundantly clear that your race to freedom was placed at an indefinite standstill. He had never once snapped at you, but the fear lodged in your chest informed you not to test him further.

He hauled himself up, joints locked from inactivity popping to life as he arched into a long stretch. His carefree pose hinted at obliviousness--borderline forgiveness--to your impertinence, but you knew better.

Link never forgets.

He eyed you again with a sort of child-like excitement that twisted your gut into a sickening pattern. His tail arced to and fro, painting his excitement in broad strokes. He wedged his snout between the small of your back and the wall and firmly pushed you forward, scooting you a couple inches toward your prison home.

You knew better than to anger him.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Link's skillful navigation through the thorns was unimpeded by your clinging onto him. It had taken hours to get to where you once were, but a quarter of that time for the wolf. The gloomy castle you had called your home for months (years?) broadened into view until you could clearly see its spires puncture through occasional clouds. The moon, basking in its celestial sovereignty, jeered at your return.

Link slipped through a tiny crack in the iron-clad door, made by the wolf confident in its tracking and retrieving abilities. You slugged off him with practiced movements; a sound akin to obscene magic asundering flesh preluded your captor's transformation. Grisly black fur gave way to sand-blonde hair; the worn, patchwork shirt which heralded his humble beginnings as a rancher ran taut against the back you had spent several minutes clambering onto.

He continued looking ahead unblinkingly as you idled a few paces behind him, your chest constricting and mind frenzying with murky anticipation. Your nerves, frayed from adrenaline and brain-altering fear, now swam in the heavy nothingness of silence; you were a breath away from weeping before a tenor tone disturbed the still.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

Silently, you both moved through the halls, paying the torchlit shadows the special type of attention one gave to the mundane in moments choked with awkwardness. Worn, freshly torn hands bunched the hem of your dress until your knuckles whitened. A part of you wished to never reach your destination, preferring thickened stillness over the unpredictable inevitable. You rounded a familiar corner and gathered the shreds of your sanity to brace yourself for whatever may come.

The sullen wooden door gave way to the man's heave and you followed him in. A large bathroom decorated only with the essentials filled your view. As Link ran the faucet, your eyes absently glazed over the rickety plumbing he had installed to transport hot spring water to the tub. For the first time since his transformation, he turned to you.

"Strip."

His clear, authoritative tone cut sharper than any thorn that had shredded you. Eyes downcast, your fingers wrought the straps of your dress further, further down your shoulders. Your skin burned from your clammy fingers; you blamed it on the steam that had begun filling the corners of the room and ignored the heavy, heated stare placed on you by the male.

Link followed your dawdling, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt and lifting it to reveal a stomach sculpted by years of farm work and adventuring. The straps of your dress coiled close to your elbows before settling by your ankles. Your hands immediately scattered to cover your exposed parts as Link finished undressing himself, his fully erect length blurred by warm mists and (eventually) a deftly wrapped towel.

He reached over to squeak the faucet shut; the comforting, monotonous lull of running water now halted to scant droplets. After pulling out the small basket of rags and soap, he sat on a bar stool and beckoned you with a lone finger.

"Come here. You're filthy."

You shuffled out of the shredded dress and forward, keeping your eyes trained on the end of the tub where he sat. The wanton desire for a hot bath waived your concerns over the situation, dulling your fears enough to throw a leg over the edge and sink everything but the top half of your face below the water.

The warm panacea cloaked you in an elixir of ease, and a satisfied groan unintentionally lapsed your lips; your hand figuratively slapped over your mouth when the air honeyed into something...

Sinful.

Link dipped a small bucket into the bathwater and slowly poured it over your head, calloused fingers expertly combing through knotted, crusted strands. The hardened skin tenderly brushing the back of your neck jolted heated memories to the forefront of your mind.

You could still feel the harsh, almost desperate grip laced in your hair as he pounded you from behind, panting sweet promises to give you more for the rest of your lives. Your face, buried in his pillows, blindly nodded along to the specifics of what he had said, your mind too blurred to focus on much else aside from your umpteenth high of the night.

The warm water felt like a cold deluge and a noticeable shiver ran through you. Soapy hands stopped caressing your scalp.

"(F/N)?"

"H-Huh?"

"How about we play a little game?" Link murmured suddenly, absently twirling your locks in his fingertips. Had it not been for the taut fingers interweaved through your hair, your surprise would have been more apparent.

"What... What game?"

"A little game similar to hide-n-seek." He started languidly, as if savoring every vowel that lisped his tongue. "If you can evade my capture until dawn, I will guide you to the forest's edge so you may leave. However..."

Rough fingerpads traced up the side of your bicep as darkened ears caught your quiet, involuntary gasp.

"If I catch you... You're mine. Deal?"

Throat tightening and heart palpitating, your mind fought to keep its last ounce of calm as your captor's hand circled to your front to cusp and knead your--

"What's the catch?" You breathed, somehow managing to divert your attention away from Link's sinful reaches.

"There is no catch, but there are rules." He pecked your cheek, his lips curving into a soft smile that thinly veiled iller intents.

"You are allowed to hide anywhere in the castle grounds and use whatever means necessary to hide from me, so long as neither of us gets seriously injured... The moment you step foot in that forest, I will claim you where you stand. Is that fair?"

Was this a trick?

A sick joke meant to dangle tonight's failure in your face?

Surely it was... But what if it wasn't?

His steady stare that peered shamelessly through your soul conveyed a degree of seriousness and sincerity required to make a truthful statement.

"How do I know that you won't go back on your word?"

"I have never lied to you." He gritted his teeth. "Can you say the same?"

The genuine hurt masking his eyes ached your chest, but the tiniest shred of dignity you had left netted the apology that almost escaped your mouth.

"Is there anything else I should know before I make my decision?"

"No. I have told you everything you need to know and will uphold my end of the deal. The final decision is yours."

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Moonlight masqueraded through the gaping windows, streaking drab grey pillars with hints of alabaster. The halls which you have called home for what felt like time immemorial now crowded your vision with a foreign bite, sinking into your flesh an unnerving uncertainty around every corner.

Your neck swiveled on all axes, one eye trained in front of you and the other separating the benign from foe that hid in every dancing shadow. Bare feet pattering against olden stone filled the gaps in between each racing heart beat, drumming your ears in a never-ending symphony of chase.

Legs aching, quaking, begging for proper rest are promptly ignored, outcompeted by the more urgent matter at hand.

Your final gambit for freedom.

You cursed under your breath as you ascended a spiraling staircase, your lungs burning with the rage of a thousand suns from heaving in the cold, arid air. The stone floor kissed knicks into the soles of your feet as you skidded around a corner and madly dashed down the hall, shifting down a narrow crawlspace that branched off from the main hall.

Whispered hisses and curses bounced off the tightening walls as rough-hewn stone jagged into your skin, reopening recently closed wounds from the brambles. You could only pray that Link was far enough away to not pick up on freshly streaked blood.

A familiar carpet--the one from the main hall--filled your view and you slowed your shimmying into a momentary pause. You fought to see through your grimace to peer around the corner and hoped that your heart wasn't beating loud enough to mask the signs of your stalker.

All good...?

You scooted out of that uncomfortable position and ducked towards the exit.

The private gardens opened up to you. Trails of ivy found residence in the cracked grey of decayed walls and the fountain was spewing the most delicious water your parched throat had ever seen. You circled the mini courtyard, your frenzied mind shunting the garden's haunting aesthetics in search of a practical hiding place. To your right was the more open space of the main courtyard, and to your left were the untrimmed topiaries of Hyrulian heroes commemorated only in flora.

Streaks of morning were just beginning to tip the horizon.

Your feet teetered toward the right, but a certain non-human shadow slinked past the threshold. All color drained from your pallor as you scurried around the topiary's wide base and hid behind the cloister's stone pillar. The sounds of flesh ripping and reanimating shot through the air; tears began to freely flow as a carefree whistle ambled closer to you.

"My, my... It's almost daybreak. I must find my beloved soon, or else I'll lose her forever."

The sky was just beginning to tinge a magenta-red.

"Is she... Hiding by the door?"

Boots clicking against stone rang like a departed's dirges. Your clammy fingers dug into the side of your face--a feeble attempt to muffle your whimpering.

"Is she... Behind these topiaries? No? Hm... But I'm getting close, aren't I, (F/N)?"

All strength, all hope, had been sapped from your body; your knees locked and buckled.

"Oh? Have we always had a little walkway back here? What a wonderful surprise! I know my darling would love it here."

Your vision darkened.

Leather nestled softly into your face as the heat of another poured and mingled with the cold stone pressed to your back.

"Guess who?" He sang.

You felt all your muscles simultaneously release their tension; your legs folded in on themselves, but secure arms hooked them under and hoisted you bridal style.

As you were carted inside the dark fortress, the morning sun greeted you in its soft-rayed glory.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The stale castle air flooded your lungs as your body was unceremoniously tossed onto the bed. A hand tightened around your wrists and hot, agitated lips locked with yours before your brain could register the cotton plush of your sheets. His other hand feathered up your thigh, learned fingers grazing all your tender spots and teasing your thoughts into a foggy mix of want.

Your figure writhed uselessly under him as he flattened you further into the bed, using his full weight to keep you pinned where he wanted. The hand that carried out its sinful ministrations below shot up to seize your cheeks. Rough fingerpads bruised the softer flesh as he craned your neck to make way for his lips, flushed with a feral red and coated with soft proclamations of domination.

"You're mine... All mine..."

Hot breaths ghosted the surface of your neck, tickling a heated whine out of you. Your needy noises hitched into a gasp when you felt moistened lips lock onto your skin, suckling and teething the flesh into discolored patches. Rich vermilion fringed with a sinful violet bloomed below your jawline, trailing down and darkening with each claim closer to your chest.

He yanked the noisome dress down, exposing all of your chest to him. The snaps of cloth ripping from its handles and the sudden whip of cold air across your most sensitive parts pierced a jolt through your body. He pulled away to admire the shades of purple and red marring your fair complexion, a visual reminder to the dust haunting old halls and courtyards lost to time that you were his, and his alone. A lone tongue swirled around an irritated bud.

Trembles quaked through you--from heated anticipation or disgust, you were unsure. He hooked his fingers back into your cheeks and pried your face to look into his own. Sky-blue eyes, which once beheld you in crinkled happiness, had dimmed into a hazy navy clouded with lust.

"So pretty... My gorgeous, gorgeous girl."

Soft lips brushed your forehead, ambled down to your nose, and finally settled on your lips.

"My good girl."

Lips warmed with depraved whispers silenced around your bud. Starved suckling backdropped the more apparent whimpers scratching your throat, dredged in pleasure with a dulling edge of resistance. Scarred skin delicately cusped your mounds, tweaking and flicking your perkiness until it was a rosy red.

Your growing sensitivity stung tears into your eyes. Achy hands, now free from his grasp, grappled onto sinewy shoulders but did little to convey genuine discomfort. A deep groan purred from his chest as Link balanced your sore bud in a soft knead between his teeth. A pop filled the room.

"Let me see those eyes."

Your eyes wedged open to see blown-out blues taking all of you in. Your heart pounded a flush into your cheeks and christened an unholy flame to spread through your core.

"That's it... Now watch me..."

He dragged his body lower and lower, his eyes unwavering from yours for even a second. Steady hands balled into the collar of your dress and tore through the silk, the symphony of rips bouncing off the walls and knocking coherence out of your head. His lips matched the pace of the ragged unveiling and chased progressively exposed flesh with soft kisses, down, down, and farther down. Feverish breaths along your inner thighs sent chills up your spine.

"Watch me as I make you cum for me."

Hands gnarled from knighthood knotted into the delicate lace separating him from his prize, tearing it apart with ease.

"Link, hold--ah!"

Your eyes shot to the back of your head as your mouth gaped into a silent 'O.' An orchestra of colors, conducted by a madly indulgent maestro, symphonized into a crazed, otherworldly experience. His tongue coiled and stretched into you with the practiced precision of many amorous nights while his thumb circled the space around your clit, teasing the nub until agony. It was only a matter of time before your impassioned gasps and pleas competed with the downright sinful wetness Link lapped below.

"Tell me you love this--that you love me."

"Link, please! Just give it to me please, please, please...!" The top of your head rolled further into your pillow when the painful prick of a pinch shot too much for too short a time.

"Don't look away. Don't you dare look away, you filthy slut." Deft fingers plunged into you until pleasure fried your brain. "You'll cum when I tell you to."

Your whines and whimpers hiccuped into full sobs for release, whistled with pleas and promises you both knew you wouldn't keep.

"You'll love me forever, right? You'll be my good lil' cock slut forever, right?"

"Yes! Yes, I promise! Please Link, just let me cum already, please!"

You damn liar.

He pulled away, coldly gazing at the weeping, quivering, gasping mess of his beloved.

"Link...? W-why did you--"

"Your heart may have forgotten, but your body remembers..."

His sweet lips, tinted with a hint of bitter longing, moved with yours in a desperate, crazed dance. Every lust-filled, haggard groan ripped from his lungs masked the quieter crack running up his heart.

The bed creaked from the sudden redistribution of your weight as he spread you on all fours. He aligned himself to your entrance and, in a single motion that he had done hundreds of times, completed you. A wail, colored in pleasure and streaked with pain, contrasted Link's blissed-out groan. Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes; each droplet slipped down your cheek in time with his frenetic pounding until it had thickened into a steady stream.

He wasted no time in his pursuit for pleasure, hitching his pelvis to your ass, pulling away, and slamming back in with the gentleness of a starved wolf ripping into a lamb. His fingers dug crescents into your hips as he adjusted himself, propping one of his legs up to angle himself deeper and faster into you.

He was stretching you past your limits, and every thrust was accompanied by a heated flash of pain. Your upper half sunk towards the bed as he moved your hips higher, closer to him. Helpless (E/C)s stared at the creaking bedpost while your whitening knuckles dug through the sheets clumped in your hands. A salty mixture of tears and saliva pooled on your pillow as honeyed cries haunted your walls.

"What, is my princess not having a good time?" He jeered, reaching over to give your engorged clit a cruel flick and your ass an even crueler slap. "What does my baby want me to do to her? Huh? What do you want me to do to your tight pussy?"

"L-Link, It hurts! It's too--!"

The side of your quivering hips slammed into the mattress and forced you on your back. Your face snapped into the pillow when his writhing tongue replaced his thick cock, tonguing and lapping at your dripping pussy as if your ambrosia would be the last thing he was to taste. He pulled out and spat on your entrance, pressing his tongue flat against your pussy and swiping up towards the clit that he coiled.

"Mmph... Fuck, I love you... Give me more... Gods, give me more."

A bruising ache pressed into your hips as his frenzied circling spurred faster, faster, faster. Pleasure dizzied your senses towards a dark void; the familiar knot in your stomach that ached to unravel popped with the abrupt re-emergence of Link.

"Mm, tight as ever... How're you feeling, my dove?" He husked, ragged breaths encapsulating the shell of your ear.

"Too b-bi--Link, you're too big!"

"Shhh... You can take it. You've taken it hundreds of times. C'mon, squeeze my cock like a good girl."

"It's so--Link, you're stretching me out, I need to--"

"Not yet. I'm not done fucking you yet." He swiveled you back on all fours and pounded you into the mattress, your cries and pleas be damned. Slender fingers snarled through your tresses and strained you away from the pillows that held your screams.

"When I'm ready, I want to watch you cum all over my cock." His erratic pounding slowed for a split second, enough time for a certain thought to come and go. "I want you to see it too."

Your abused cunt finally had a moment to breathe and process; if only your brain had that same luxury.

The bed sighed a relieved groan as Link crawled out and wrapped his arms about your lower abdomen to hoist you up. When it was evident that this pathetically limp curl was the best you could do, toned forearms hooked under your knees and spread your legs in the most vulnerable position you've ever been in. With a huff, Link brought you front and center to the mirror. You both watched breathlessly as he lowered you onto his slicked cock, sinking every inch into your gummy walls.

"Fuck, you're so tight... I need you, (F/N)..."

His crazed pistoning began once more; the sensations that ransacked your body were unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. The tip of his cock so easily, so effortlessly rammed into your sweetest spots; every thrust he slammed into you turned you into a shamelessly shaking, overstimulated mess.

"Look at you," he hummed darkly, "look at all the sin running down your legs."

Link's voice was so far away now. The way he kept disappearing into your sopping cunt and your juices dribbling over your thighs consumed your every thought. The only tangible you could feel was the building pressure coiling in your gut, tightening with each passing second.

"So beautiful... So tight... Don't you want to do this forever? Hm? Don't you want to be ruined by me forever and ever?"

His teeth sunk into your neck, adding to the carnal collection and ripping a hoarse cry out of you.

"You're my good girl, aren't you? My good girl... You're all mine--all fucking mine."

Veins marbled his arms and forehead as he nuzzled into your neck, tongue tracing the edge of every bite. The labored grunts that occasionally wheezed out of him, along with his stuttering hips, signaled that he was teetering closer and closer to the edge. Hooded blues stared piercingly into your own, weighed down by mindless intoxication. His lips brushed a flame through the curve of your ear.

"Look at me..." He purred. "Look at me and confess your lust to me."

A shattered cry, followed by a wave of profane heat, collided with your system. Winced eyes lolled to the back of your head while you spasmed and twitched in still arms. Your violent clenching and knowledge of your release strained a guttural growl through Link's chest as he spurted his cum as deep as it could go. Thin, white threads coated your walls and trailed out your still-plugged hole until drips of sin stained the stone below.

Link tripped to the foot of the bed, his body folding into the sheets the second his foot made contact with the wooden post. With arms wrapped comfortably around you and the familiar presence of your spent lover, you passed out the moment your body recognized blissed finality.

As you commenced your near-immediate foray into the realm of dreams, a familiar voice--soft yet broken--rang through your last layer of consciousness.

"Sleep well, my dove. If eternally precarious possession is the closest thing we will ever have to love, I will gorge myself on it."

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