#to make it clear for thoma's part

[xiaowhore]

lights, camera, action!

premise. in which you get yourself involved in a lot of unscripted drama. (genshin celebrity au.)

includes. xiao, childe, albedo, ayato, scaramouche, thoma & kazuha.

previous episode. watch here.

note. the long-awaited sequel nobody actually waited for lmao. please read part 1 if you still haven't! this entire fic would be incomprehensible otherwise :'D

四 ; ayato, the cannon fodder

although xiao is, with absolute certainty, regarded as your definite favorite celebrity in your heart, ayato comes a close second.

he's a modern day prince; if anyone were asked to say which male lead they liked best, you can guarantee their answer would be among one of his roles.

he played a lot of characters—a school heartthrob, a ceo, a bar owner, and even an actual prince for a snow white retelling. each one with stellar execution, as you'd expect from an actor of his caliber.

so it is to your absolute horror to find him casted in this production as a minor villain. the one that happens to (futilely) seduce the journalist to bed, no less!

is he asking to get his image destroyed?! which... actually does make sense. he's already been typecasted as the “prince” type of male lead, and you can guess how frustrating that can be. it must suck to play one persona over and over, mindlessly spouting recycled lines; not much room for creativity there.

but he's had different roles too, of course. one that stuck to your mind is another murder mystery, a film focusing on the death of a family head. the power struggle for the place of successor isn't a secret even to the public, and the prime suspects are primarily composed of the victim's relatives who stand to benefit from the family head's death.

ayato played the role of the first son, believed to be the one most likely to inherit the riches. which means the sooner the family head dies, he gets to have all the assets. he's suspicious due to his probable motive, but overly so that it's too obvious; ironically enough, this leads the audience to think he definitely couldn't be the killer.

except he is exactly that, but for a reason nobody would expect. rather than greed, the first son murdered his father for driving his biological mother to madness due to abuse and then sent her to a psychiatric ward, where she eventually died. he took in a second wife, a woman only after his money, who kept on pressuring her husband to make her daughter his successor.

contrary to popular belief, ayato's character didn't loathe his step-sister. in fact, he cared about her quite a bit, and his hate for his father grew whenever he scorned her for being “lacking” or “good for nothing.” his scummy personality led to his demise.

in the end, the step-mother was wrongly arrested, and the true murderer wasn't revealed until after the credits, where ayato was shown sitting at his father's desk and laughing to himself, followed by a scene detailing how the actual murder took place and how he tricked the investigators successfully.

the contrast between his acting as a shallow young master and a cunning mastermind had been praised by many. to tell the truth, you don't know how he was typecasted as a prince when he's clearly more suited for “villain” roles.

...even so, his current role isn't anything like the previous one! a cannon fodder and a genius murderer are nowhere near alike! he's only there to make the protagonist jealous and his character is fated to die one week after the scene with the journalist!

you suppose your disbelief must've shown on your face when each actor's respective role was announced because he couldn't help but chuckle when he looked at you.

“...by any chance, did you audition for the murderer role? because- it's hard to believe that-” you struggle to piece together words, rambling while ayato is busy signing his autograph on your phone case. (as luck would have it, you don't have paper on you. you said he could sign the back of your shirt but he politely declined, insisting the shirt would get dirty like you aren't planning to get it framed on your bedroom wall and declare it your heirloom.)

you don't even feel shy talking to him from the sheer incredulity of the situation. ayato only laughs as he hands you your phone case. “i did. but it turned out getting a minor role is a good thing since i'm planning to be on vacation soon.”

“oh. that's understandable, then...” barely. you still have complaints about it. as an actor, you respect the director's decisions, but as a loyal fan, you oughta give him a talking to and demand to give your idol the role he deserves.

“do you dislike it?”

your brows knit together, eyes momentarily leaving your now prized phone case to glance at him. “dislike what?” dislike that you're treated like this? that you have to act as a brainless villain? that you don't get much screentime? then fuck yeah.

“dislike that you're going to do that scene with me.” almost bashful, he leans closer to whisper to your ear. “you know. the one in the hotel.”

all the blood in your body rushes to your cheeks. impishly, ayato's lips curl into a smile of mischievous nature, a far cry from the elegant simper he usually holds. “i... that isn't what i... no, i mean it's not that i don't like you as my partner, but- but-!”

sufficiently entertained by your fumbling, he stops being mean and lightly pats the top of your head. “let's both do our best. truthfully, i'm not the most adept with bedroom scenes, but if you need help, you can always rely on me.”

rely how exactly?!

...

“is it too tight?”

“um... a little.”

“okay. is this better?”

“yes. am i too stiff?”

“mhm, a bit. you don't have to be nervous. it's just me.”

ah yes. it's just THE kamisato ayato pinning you down your bed, breathing down your neck, moments away from stealing your lips. nothing to worry about, clearly.

he adjusts his grip on your wrists, loosening it to your liking. his character is meant to push you down forcibly, but of course he doesn't want to actually harm you during filming—to prepare before the shoot, practice is of utmost importance. you have to give the illusion of an aggressive assault when in reality he's handling you like a piece of glass.

but you're doing this right after a day's work, and you have to blame your stupid mouth for running off without command and casually asking him if he could visit your apartment to go over the scene. in late hours of the night. in what can be interpreted as a much more scandalous suggestion.

thankfully, you're not dealing with childe so you're spared from wiggling eyebrows or phrases with flirty implications.

but him being ayato doesn't make it any easier.

“don't you feel embarrassed making out on screen...?” you laugh awkwardly in an attempt to ignore the weird tension in the air, slightly overwhelmed by his intense gaze. “i know you've done this several times, but i imagine the awkwardness never wears off.”

“not quite,” he agrees. “but a job is a job... i say that, but i'd like to make it comfortable for you, if possible. how are you faring? do you need a break?” he sits up, allowing more distance in the space between you. you shake your head.

“i'm fine. just... nervous. it's my first time doing a bedroom scene...” you look off to the side, staring at the lights beyond your window. though you're in the comfort of your own room, having an unfamiliar man on your bed makes it all feel so strange.

...as you thought, it really was weird to invite a co-actor to your bed! eh? would booking a hotel be better? but isn't it overboard to go to a hotel for practice? inviting him to your apartment is equally as bad, though?!

“all the cameramen watching can be pressuring,” he adds in afterthought, releasing one of your wrists only to pin them with a single hand. you flinch a little when his fingers skim over your cheek, but you slowly relax into the heat. “it's best if you try to forget about them.”

“i'm afraid that's easier said than done,” you murmur, voice growing weaker as he leans down once more.

“really? i consider myself a decent kisser.” he grins, sly and confident. “i'm certain i can keep other things off your mind for a while.”

“wh- i'm not supposed to enjoy it, remember?!” you squawk indignantly with flushed cheeks.

“oh? my bad.” he relishes in your reaction, chuckling lowly. “you'll have to work hard acting like you don't like it, then.”

his lips hover above yours, breaths mingling with each other. the proximity catches you off guard but his hand is a steady weight holding you in place, urging you to look at him.

“don't think about anyone else. just focus on me.”

五 ; scaramouche, the best friend

“fantastic. i was also looking forward to a drama adaption but you've already ruined it for me.”

“that's not nice! you're supposed to congratulate me for passing the audition!”

“my courtesy towards you has already expired 5 years ago.”

“yes. you've made that very apparent.”

“have i also made my ire apparent? it's like the universe is telling me seeing you everyday isn't enough, i have to see you on television too. frankly, we see too much of each other.”

“you say that but you're the one coming over my apartment uninvited.”

“this is where i store my beer.”

scaramouche has a perfectly functional fridge so you know he's only doing that as an excuse. he's been this way for 8 years. (of course, he'd only been storing milk at your house when you were both still underage.)

(the milk didn't do any favors for his height, unfortunately.)

his words are as harsh as ever but believe it or not, he's your closest friend. not that he'd ever admit it, even at gunpoint. it's a feat you should add to your resume, honestly, because as far as you know, you're one of the few people he doesn't hate.

he tolerates you enough that he can practice your lines with you (with enough pressure), though he delivers his part of the script with such dispassion it makes it difficult for you to get into the mood. but in his own brand of patience, he lets you reiterate your lines an endless amount of times until you feel like you get it right.

he helps you with expressions too, albeit in a manner you find hard to appreciate.

“you look like you're constipated, not about to cry.”

“your jaw is hanging open. want to catch a fly with your tongue? act like you caught your husband cheating, not like you're about to eat half my burger when you said you'd only take a bite.”

(personal grudges were involved.)

he's not interested in the film industry at all, but he was the one who pushed you to pursue your dreams when everyone else was discouraging you from taking an unstable career. he's your pillar of support; even if he's glaring at you scathingly or giving cutting words matter-of-factly, he's all bark and no bite. the moment you shed tears, he's already pulling you to his chest, remaining silent as he rubs comforting circles on your back. he doesn't even complain when you bury your face to hide in his neck, soaking his shirt with tears.

underneath all that layers, he's pretty nice.

(admittedly, you have to dig real deep.)

when you're smiling and happy, however, he takes the chance to complain. sneering, he blurts, “what's up with you taking roles in romance dramas all the time? besides, you're way too old to be in high school.”

“i still look fresh.” you batted your eyelashes at him, celebrating inwardly when he made a scandalized noise. “but i'm auditioning for a different role soon. if i get it, you'll see me as a murder victim instead of a high schooler.”

two weeks later, you get the e-mail confirming the love interest role. scaramouche goes so pale you consider taking him to the hospital.

“i know the journalist is your favorite character, but aren't you overreacting? do you hate me acting as them that much?”

he rolls his eyes so hard you almost think they're going to be permanently pointed heavenward. “are you stupid? that's not what i'm worried about. wouldn't you have to- you know- do that scene-”

“which one?”

“...the hotel scene...”

ah. well that certainly is a cause for concern. it's steamier than what you're used to; so far, you've only done light pecks or kisses that don't last too long. bedroom scenes are definitely foreign territory.

“i can only hope my partner is good-looking, then. i wouldn't mind it, if that's the case.” you laugh sheepishly, missing the way his eyes narrow in disapproval.

“...whatever. suit yourself.”

“don't tell me you still feel weird about kissing scenes?”

“i don't have issues with kissing scenes. i just don't want to see you sucking face on tv.”

“don't use that word! it's too vulgar!”

as part of work, it's inevitable you have to do a kissing scene here and there. scaramouche has never been fond of seeing them, turning away from the television or excusing himself to the bathroom whenever they come up. it's a reaction you can sympathize with; it is rather awkward to see your friend making out with someone on screen.

but he especially detests the old recording of your high school play.

long, long ago, you were part of the drama club. by association, scaramouche became a member as well—the pair of you were considered as a package deal. he was your practice partner so often that he got forced into joining.

he'd die before he ever tells anyone, but he had a knack for playing villains back then, specialized in wicked cackling and bone-chilling monologues reeking of depravity.

but in your final year, he got roped into playing the prince when the original actor sprained his ankle. incidentally, you happened to be playing the damsel in distress in your (pretty much unrecognizable) rendition of sleeping beauty.

“why is the prince shorter than-” before you could end your statement, he already slammed your face with the script.

the play was a hot mess. scaramouche couldn't play a decent prince for the life of him, so your club made the play a comedy and reworked the entire script to fit him better. the valiant and heroic character became satirical, forced into saving you not for love but to fulfill a prophecy that definitely wasn't in the original sleeping beauty.

the audience was taking the change well, intrigued by the bizarre twists and turns. the huffing-puffing prince was hilarious to watch, too.

it wasn't long before you laid in the casket, blinded by stage lights even with your eyes closed. the cardboard dragon had already been defeated, and the prince was fast approaching.

to your utter distaste, it was decided the prince would slap you awake. so you prepared for it when the last lines were being said, bracing for the stinging pain.

but then there was a rise in pitch, nearing to a yelp, then a loud thud, then the weight of two hands pressing on either side of your head, and-

your lips were touching something soft and warm.

the squeals and yells reverberated in the whole theater, the narrator stammering awkwardly and improvising ad libs last minute. your eyes snapped open and you'd gotten a front row seat to see scaramouche's blushing face, an explosion of pink dancing across his features.

after the play wrapped up and he peeled off the ridiculously frilly prince costume, he'd been set on destroying every record—alas, your friends weren't so keen on deleting such good footage. to this day, he still bristled at the thought of it; his and your first kiss showcased to hundreds of people.

it's harder to endure when he sees you kissing someone else, however. he never gets used to it, no matter how many times he tells himself to.

“oh, finally. it took so long for them to get together,” his co-worker groans as he watches the tv at the break room, airing the latest episode of the drama you star in. scaramouche glances at the screen, turning away when the camera flits to the boy with ashy brown hair. he's touching your face for the millionth time, bright teal eyes staring into yours so deeply scaramouche almost thinks he's actually besotted with you.

“you're not watching? i thought you liked this series?”

“i don't.”

for his own sake, he doesn't give the tv another glance, stepping out of the room.

this is fine. it's not the first time he's felt like this.

(it doesn't feel any less terrible.)

六 ; thoma, the former male lead

there are as many aspiring actors as there are stars in the sky; it's unfortunate only some of them shine brightly enough to be noticeable, and the rest twinkling weakly in miniscule dots.

for your case, and for your friend thoma's, you belong to the latter.

thoma is handsome, that much you can see with your own eyes, but a pretty face can be found anywhere in the industry—he lacks that special something that makes him stand out. that being said, you don't have it either, so you're on the same boat.

you're best pals, comrades in arms, partners in crime.

actual partners. once. for a romance drama.

(but not the main characters. just an obligatory side pairing, of course. you're the rebound for the second male lead.)

it was your first work, and you'd rather delete your existence than watch it again. hopefully, that also erases your dark history.

your... amateurish acting had been unsightly. the innocence you portrayed wasn't lovely, just a ghastly display of incoherent mumbling and lack of comedic timing. you wanted to tear apart each clip and toss it in some imaginary ditch where nobody can find it again.

thoma's performance wasn't as severe as yours. it wasn't half-bad, almost decent if not for the scant instances of awkwardness in scenes that required more emotional acting.

alas, the end product was just about what you expected; a series no one paid attention to. both a relief and a disappointment, because even if you hated it with every inch of your being, the effort you poured into practice and filming was real.

but after the drama ended, you kept in close contact with thoma, chugging down beer at dinners as you complained to each other about work. failed auditions, mistakes in filming, inability to get roles—you shared everything, and he did the same. each moment of embarrassment and each moment of breakthrough that called for a celebration, you told each other. through thick and thin, you had the other's back.

naturally, he was one of the first few people you called (second only to your manager) when you received the e-mail confirming your role as the love interest for arguably one of the most anticipated series to date.

he'd been overjoyed, above all, his elation overruling his surprise; it was a far cry from other violent reactions. (“are you sure it's not a prank?” scaramouche had said in disbelief.)

“you're finally going to be acknowledged!” gleefully, thoma chattered on, “that's the best news i've heard all year!”

and that was good. it was nice having his support. he'd been the one to give you a pep talk before you had to start rehearsals, soothing your fretful worries.

when you don't understand the essence of a particular scene, he's more than happy to help—“i'm just one call away!”

when you fumble your lines on camera, he laughs but not with mockery (a stark contrast to that little gremlin scaramouche)—“it's no big deal. you only have to do your best tomorrow.”

when you recount your experiences working with famous actors, he listens attentively—“you're starting to get along, huh?”

and then you would hesitate. it sounds like you're... bragging.

he says he's only one call away, but he's busy with his own work; still, he makes time for you. he listens whenever you complain, but he has bigger problems, ones that he doesn't say because he knows it'll dampen your mood. he has to hear about you acquainting with celebrities he can't even dream of meeting, like you're showing him the things he can't have.

you got lucky. what about him?

slowly, your face bleeds to commercials, advertisement banners, even huge outdoor LED displays on shopping malls featuring the drama cast—yet he remains as a blurry, nameless figure in the sea of aspiring actors.

he doesn't show it, doesn't even hint at it, but he must be... envious, right?

it's not hard to be. you've been in the industry for the same amount of time, began at the same starting line, yet only one of you found success, the other one left behind in the dust.

still. still. he never shows it. never stops being your biggest fan. never lets you think otherwise. he watches every episode, every interview. babbles how amazing your performance was in this scene. rambles how you did so well in this drama and he's so proud of you. smiles at how you have to wear a disguise now whenever you go out together so nobody can recognize you.

“it must be hard,” he comments as you hide in a secluded park, nearly getting found out by someone you noticed following you around. “you can't get around as freely anymore. are you okay? nobody follows you home or anything?”

always the worrier, you think. “of course not. my manager drives me around everywhere these days. you don't have to worry.”

thoma grins, plopping down at a bench. “that's a relief.”

for a moment, you just sit in silence, basking in the slight chilly air. the orange and pinks of sunset darken to streaks of blue, streetlights flickering to life.

“...did you know there are rumors of you dating xiao?”

you choke on air, coughing to your fist. “what?!” not that you feel flattered. not at all. (you've badgered xiao to come with you to the carnival last week, and then the waterpark a week before that with the rest of the cast, and- well. you suppose there's reason for people to speculate. you also wore matching animal headbands—how on earth you got xiao to do that, you're not sure either.)“why did that- how did it come to that?!”

“it's surprising for me, too,” thoma says. “if anything, i'd expect dating rumors with the actual male lead. or childe. he seems... particularly clingy.”

“albedo? there's no way he'd like someone like me.” you furrow your brows. if anything, it's only gotten awkward between the two of you ever since the confession scene. “ajax... well. i never know with him.” you honestly can't tell if he's flirting or not.

thoma laughs, eyes crinkling with mirth. “you look close with all of them. if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were acting a romance film outside of the project.”

you shudder. “if, and only if, i end up dating one of them, i'll attract all kinds of bad attention. it's not even good PR. i'd hate to think of all the fan girls who'll start cursing me, stealing their man and all that. hell, i'm not even dating anybody and i'm already being cursed.”

“i'll reply to every single mean comment and defend your honor.”

you snort. “do you even have the time for that?”

“...unfortunately, yes. i'm not receiving much work at the moment.”

oh.

fuck.

“i can... i can recommend you to the director. i heard he's starting a new project soon, so maybe-”

thoma frowns and you ground to a halt. “it's fine. i don't want you to do that for me.”

it sounds like you're pitying him. like you don't trust him to rise on his own.

but you want to help.

“is this why you look sad around me every so often?” he realizes, astonished.

“i... can't help but feel guilty,” you admit, unable to maintain eye contact. “every time i say a silly story about xiao, or ajax, or albedo, i feel like i'm showing off. every time i complain, you never try to compare, you only comfort me and never tell me about your problems. i want to do something for you, but i don't know what. i care about you, and i want you to do well because i know how talented you are. except everyone else doesn't, and i want them to see you.”

it's not fair. he's putting in the effort. the same as you are. but it's still not working out for him, and it's not fair.

“you... want to help me?”

you manage a weak nod. you hear an intake of breath, feel him shuffling closer. then he places his hand on top of your clenched fist.

“[name]. can you look at me?”

slowly, you raise your head. his green eyes are shining so brilliantly, bright emeralds gleaming in the moonlight.

yet they also seem... resigned.

“you're really nice, [name]. but you don't have to feel guilty. it's not your fault i'm still like this, and i'm already thankful you're worrying about me. i can't say that i was entirely... not jealous of what you have now, but that's just my problem. so you don't have to make that face, okay?”

he smiles, just like always. you open your mouth to respond, but then you feel that sensation again—that prickle at the back of your neck, the feeling that makes your hair stand on end.

“you're kind.” his hand cradles your cheek ever so softly, tenderly. your lashes tremble, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings. “that's why... i hope you can forgive me.”

this position is familiar. you know this, because you've experienced this before.

long long ago, just when you started your career, you'd practiced this scene with him in the dressing room—hearts pounding, hands awkwardly finding their places;

your lips brushing together in a shy kiss.

now, his fingers are carding through your hair, the closest he's ever been to you in years. you flinch, gripping his shirt, uncomprehending, and-

you hear it.

the shutter of a camera.

七 ; kazuha, the murderer

the first time you heard a complete newbie would act the murderer role, you were in disbelief.

alright, you were an unremarkable actor before your current role, but at the very least, you had experience. not only is this person entirely new to the industry, having nothing to show for himself, he's an amateur. it sounds like a recipe for disaster.

it's even more baffling when you discover ayato, THE kamisato ayato, tried for the role and didn't get it. who the hell is this newbie? someone who got in through nepotism? preposterous! the murderer is an incredibly important character to the plot, the whole series would be ruined if he turned out to be awful!

and then you see who he actually is, and oh boy, he does not look like a murderer.

he's more like a harmless bunny. fluffy white hair, round red eyes, a polite disposition—did you arrive at the wrong set, kid? maybe you were aiming for the high school romance drama and came here by mistake?

the webtoon murderer was no pretty boy. just an average-looking dude working at a convenience store nobody suspected to be the killer because of his unassuming looks, and that was the point. yet this eye-catching hottie is the complete opposite.

but everyone else in the cast is hot as hell, so maybe the murderer needs to be hot too so he can blend in??? director, what exactly did you have in mind?

“[name]!” just as you were staring at him, he turns and notices your gaze, expression immediately brightening. like an innocent baby chick, he walks up to you. “good morning.”

it's another day of rehearsals for the upcoming episode. so far, you haven't gotten to see his true skills yet—the most he's done is act like an ordinary extra part of the background and out of the limelight. it's understandable, since his character doesn't appear much until halfway through the series.

“kazuha,” you acknowledge him, still a little unused to his... general stickiness. you don't know what he found so appealing about you but he's taken to sticking by your side most of the time. childe has teased you more than once that perhaps the little chick has a crush on you.

“do you want to eat lunch together? i know a good fried chicken place.” so it's cannibalism now?

you agree to go anyway because fried chicken sounds great. plus, as much as you came to find that even celebrities are just regular people and you managed to befriend a lot of them, there's a sense of comfort in kazuha—he's the one you felt least intimidated by.

even if you text xiao for hours now, or come over to childe's house frequently, or go on food trips with albedo, or go clothes shopping with ayato and his sister, they're still people you can't get close to without boundaries. there's still a sense of distance separating you, one that you can't cross, but can happily do so with kazuha.

being with kazuha is just comfortable. there's never a need for formalities, and rather than co-workers, you feel closer to being friends.

sometimes, you feel as if you're babysitting though. he just... screams youth. holds the freshness of an amateur, clutching to naive hopes and wishes in the path of stardom. it's endearing to see, and it's like seeing a younger version of yourself.

it's a shame you've buried those naive wishes long ago, but you hope kazuha's career goes well for him. this drama will undoubtedly be a big boost for his popularity, but will also backlash on him if he performs horribly.

“this is my treat.” kazuha pushes the plate of chicken fingers to your side of the table, eyes shaped in smiling crescents.

you shake your head but take one nonetheless. “what kind of senior would i be to make you pay? order all you want, it's on me.”

kazuha doesn't pout but comes close to it, sulking as he bites on a piece of korean bburinkle chicken. “i can't tell if you're doing this on purpose.”

“doing what?”

“letting me off easy.”

...? this kid says some pretty strange things sometimes.

“i'll order some drinks. what do you want?” he offers, standing up.

“iced tea is fine.”

“got it.”

as he moves, his wallet drops on the floor. you're about to tell him so but you think better of it, already considering the possibility of kazuha sneakily paying for your meal on the counter and ordering drinks as an excuse.

you sigh, bending down to pick it up from the ground, but the wallet faces up, revealing the contents.

the first thing you see is your face.

you nearly jolt and hit your head on the table in shock, but you manage to suppress your surprise in a garbled mess of choking. this photo is... from that modeling gig you did a year ago. but why is it in kazuha's wallet-?!

you quickly put it back on the table, just in time for kazuha to arrive. he raises an eyebrow at your flustered expression but doesn't mention anything.

he makes a face seeing the wallet he forgot on the table. you were right after all.

later, as you return to set and practice ends after a few more hours, you recount the order of events to xiao, who could not be anymore uninterested at your entire spiel. perhaps childe would've made a more engaging conversation partner, but you'd rather not deal with his teasing right now.

“-and my face was right there! as his wallet photo! what the hell does that mean?!” years ago, you never could've guessed you'd ever be able to rant to xiao's face like this. yet here you are, unashamed in front of your idol.

“isn't it obvious?” xiao isn't even pretending like he's giving you his full attention anymore, preoccupied with the game console in his hands. “he likes you.”

“???”

xiao sighs, dead fish eyes looking straight at your clueless expression. “don't you have a photo of me in your wallet? that's the same thing.”

“that is certainly not the same thing! you're- xiao, and i'm just me. you're popular.”

xiao almost rolls his eyes. you're way too humble for someone who gets recognized by people on the street daily. “congrats, then. you met one of your rare fans.”

that was an unbelievable thought, before. you? having a fan? whenever you searched up your name, you couldn't find anyone talking about you. your character is different; you're looking for people who's interested in you as a person, not just your role.

now, though. you've accumulated enough fame for a fan club. several maybe, even.

... but even then. that modeling gig hadn't been successful. only someone who knew about it a year ago would know about it now, since it faded from the internet pretty fast.

as far as you know, you didn't have fans a year ago.

xiao makes a realization. “...isn't this the fourth time he invited you to lunch this week?”

“yeah?”

“.....isn't he just hitting on you then?”

now that's just not in the realm of possibility. xiao is so funny.

“he literally baked you cookies the other day.”

“friends give each other cookies, xiao. i can even make some for you if you want.”

“they were heart-shaped, [name].”

(you end up making him cookies to prove a point.)

days pass by, xiao giving you increasingly odd looks, and kazuha finally proves his worth in filming.

his performance rivals that of albedo's—the soft edges of his eyes sharpening into something menacing, gaze cold and apathetic, his lips downturned to an unfamiliar sneer. you're watching the birth of a star, and it's only a matter of time before his talent will be acknowledged.

he's different from ayato as a villain. ayato is cunning, the perfect example of a mastermind. malicious and dripping with spite. but kazuha looks innocent, a cute little bun you'd never guess can make those kind of facial expressions—twisted, vicious, malevolent.

it's part of the act, but you flinch when his character turns violent; kicking down doors, smashing glass windows with a bat. holding the extras acting as murder victims by grabbing them by the hair, throwing down cops like they weighed nothing.

and then right after that scene concludes with the director's “cut!”, with (fake) blood still splattered on his face, kazuha runs up to you grinning innocently, fishing for compliments. “did i do good?”

nevertheless, you give him headpats. “you're terrifying.”

he flushes, not too pleased giving that impression to you. the next day, he acts all sweet to you again, giving you a batch of cream puffs this time. xiao snorts somewhere in the background.

eventually, your manager notices the snacks you receive regularly. “oh, it's from that kid?”

“kazuha? mhm.” you nibble happily on the pastries.

your manager chuckles. “never thought i'd see him again here.”

“...what do you mean?” blinking owlishly, you pause from chowing down. “you know him?”

“he used to work at the bakery you went to often before, didn't he? the kid you kept telling to watch your first drama. you forced him to watch the episodes on your phone during his break.”

...............FUCK.

you do remember doing something that stupid. during the filming of your first drama, you frequently stopped by at a nearby bakery to buy snacks, and you remember there was a cute kid working there. you often pinched his cheeks and cajoled him into watching the series.

but when filming ended, you couldn't go to the bakery anymore. the filming location was far from your house, and the bakery was simply out of the way.

did that kid... kazuha... support you all this time? from that early on?

you curse your manager for telling you this right before filming. your mind is a mess, having trouble connecting that cute, precious child (why are you always calling him a kid, he's barely 2 years younger than you) to the smooth and flirty man today.

it's an important scene today too! the confrontation between the detective, his partner, and the murderer. it needs your complete concentration, and you just don't have it right now. you've never seen the director lose his temper, but you can probably manage to do it today.

albedo is performing well in front of the cameras as always, so much like a protagonist that you feel like you're watching from a television screen already. but you have a job to do too, so you do your best in the spotlight, pretending to be unaffected.

kazuha looks even scarier up close, so unhinged and unreadable. you know what his next move will be, written on the script, but that doesn't make you any less uneasy.

“you're bold,” kazuha drawls, playing with the knife in his hand, “coming to see me by yourselves.”

you can hear what he's saying, but it feels like your head is full of cotton. why are you so distracted? “so it really is you,” you speak, praising yourself for acting normally.

the other two exchange lines, and you thank the heavens you're mostly silent for the time being. for the meantime, you have a few moments to collect yourself; there's a chase right after this, and you'd rather not do something stupid like trip over yourself in the middle of something so serious.

...

sometimes, you're gifted with foresight.

but! to be fair! you did not trip over yourself! the staff forgot to fix the cables in one part of the set, and you tripped over those. so no. not entirely your fault.

albedo is too far away—he's on the side trying to unlock the doors with his brain powers somehow, and you're the bait distracting the murderer before he does. he can't catch you with his male lead in a romance drama reflexes now.

ordinarily, you would not trip over the cables. you have able eyes, and you could easily step over them. but you're at the stairs where darkness falls with each lower step, and wire cables don't exactly glow in the dark.

...you're at the flight of stairs. and you're about to fall over. FUCK. WHY DID THE DIRECTOR WANT A CHASE SCENE IN THE STAIRS.

you brace for the impact, hands outstretched, praying to at least save your face, but then in a complete break of character, kazuha reaches for you.

you're leaning too far to the edge now. there's no way to pull you back to even ground. kazuha grits his teeth, pulling you to his chest, and in an immense show of strength, twists around so he'd be beneath you.

you descend in a disgraceful tangle of limbs. you're enveloped in a warm embrace, cheek resting on a firm chest. a chin is tucked into the crook of your neck, heavy breaths tickling the skin of your shoulder.

heart pounding in adrenaline, you jolt back to action when the relief fades away and the panic settles back in. “your head-!” you scramble to touch kazuha's head, feeling for any bumps or even worse, blood. kazuha hisses, so you soften the touch, tracing over his body to check for other injuries. he became a literal mattress for you, and you crushed him under your weight. he looks so so frail, what if you permanently crippled him or somethi- what the hell is all this muscle?“what about your back? did you get sprained anywhere?”

“i'm fine,” kazuha wheezes under your caressing.

“you don't sound fine! who are you trying to fool? you didn't have to do that!” you grab his cheeks as you admonish him, frowning severely. they're as soft as ever, just as pinch-able as you remember—but you won't let that distract you now! that was very reckless of him!

bashfully, he averts his gaze, the cheeks beneath your palm growning warm and flushing with a pretty pink. “i'm not hurt. it's because you're... on top of me...”

you blink, glancing down at your position. at a proximity entirely inappropriate, you're hovering above him, straddling his hips and making no move to get away.

you scramble to scurry to the side, but his hands maintain their tight grip on your waist.

this kazuha is too different from two minutes ago! wasn't he just chasing you down the corridor in murderous intent?! now he's blushing underneath you, like a pure maiden you defiled!

what's with this soft, sugary atmosphere?! last time you remembered, this was a murder mystery drama!

(when the drama ends, you're casted for a romance college series with kazuha as the male lead. figures.)

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin scenarios #xiao x reader #childe x reader #albedo x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #scaramouche x reader #thoma x reader #kazuha x reader #to make it clear for thoma's part #he set you up #remember that person following you around #yeah thoma brought that paparazzi #he was hesitating but he's desperate for success #then you said you wanted to help so he went through with the planned dating scandal

[paperbaghero]

I'm not gonna bother explaining the context. If you're not in my Discord Server, you just don't know...

Enjoy the art...

#imaginary friend #my art #My OCs #cartoon #art #character design #Sky #Gortton #Gortti #Ego Fusions #markiplier #thomas sanders #Do I even tag this as such or would this be easier do it anyways for the sake of it being easier to find this character?? #Okay small context since I know I'm not gonna get any ask wanting one #A friend of mine made an Horror Camp AU on Discord and gave us the okay to add some of our characters to make an anthology #it's so fucking good and I'm having a blast coming up with part!! #This story is about Sky and her #She's deaf and mute but she can hear Gortton as clear as day... #also sorry for the inactivity #Tumblr is just so draining to be on since there's not a lot of people interact with your content... #it's why I stick to Discord because everyone is always lifting each other up #slime monster #Slime

[hannibal-lectotype]

Something the Hannibal television show does phenomenally, that the books and movies don’t really do at all, is showcase how well he actually blends in.

In the Thomas Harris works, every scene that Doctor Lecter is in manages to make it very clear that he’s dangerous, and everyone else is basically Damocles without being aware of the blade. He’s unsettling even when he’s charming, and the audience is always aware that he is the lion in the room. We can see the swords dangling by the hair over every other character.

But in the show, Hannibal is just a guy, maybe pretentious and nerdy, but charming and kind for the most part. We are taken in with him, just like the other characters. Then, when he does lash out, moving like the predator he is, we’re left absolutely shook, almost ashamed that for a moment we forgot who he is. In the next scene, he’s as soft and charming as ever, and the deception begins again. We slowly fall under the spell again, because he’s just that good. We experience what the characters do, even though we’re granted the behind the scenes knowledge that he’s the villain of the story.

#anyway #just needed to put this idea to words #it’s probably been said before #and by someone who articulated it better #but I couldn’t stop thinking about it #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal meta #hannibal

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Creations Dance

Danny likes to dance in the night sky while flying in his new ghostly form which is very ethereal holding glimpses of different parts of space and creations unknown, this continues even after he moves to Gotham.

The sky around him becomes his stage,

A stage that matches him and follows his lead.

Gotham has never had such clear skies, able to see each and every star shining brightly.

Twinkling in many colours almost seeming to dance alongside Danny,

Sharing his joy in their existence.

~

Duke had seen the new phenomenon that was Gotham's skies, who hadn't it was all he would hear people talking around him anytime he left the house, speaking of which were also discussing the same.

Bruce, Tim, and Barbara all researching to see what had caused the change, their bet so far was on magic but not sure who or what was causing it or the reason why.

He had seen the others also poking around seeing if they could find a lead.

But the most curious of all being Jason's new demeanor, ever since the night skies had changed he seemed to calm down almost seeming peaceful.

Which don't get him wrong was a great thing to happen but the timing of it all was too weird, honestly even Bruce was tense about the sudden turn around in demeanor.

So with everyone else occupied he decided he might as well go and enjoy the night sky, it was a very amazing view to miss out on.

He had discovered a new spot a bit far from home but it was quiet and private and would make the perfect spot to stargaze comfortably without being interrupted.

~

He had fallen asleep accidentally but something had woken him up.

He noticed that it was cold, cold enough that he could just barely see his breath in the air in front of him which should not be possible since it was almost summer, had Mr.Freeze escaped?

Looking around now alert he caught a flash of something up above his head.

Looking up he saw..light and darkness and so many things that his mind couldn't comprehend rather less describe.

His eyes shifted trying to make out what he was seeing, in the center was a being..dancing?

The being seemed to feel his eyes on them because in the next moment they turned to stare at him.

He could feel the weight of their eyes on him their entire presence focused around him radiating power and joy.

Continuing to stare at each other the only thing Duke could think of was,

"You're gorgeous.."

Duke snapped back realizing he had said that out loud his face warming, but the being in front of him seemed delighted.

"Thank you! I'm surprised you're able to see me."

"It's hard not to, you were dancing so happily I could feel it in my chest."

They-he? floated closer

"If you liked my dancing so much you could continue to visit me here to see."

" If you're okay with it then I would really like that, my name is Duke."

"It's a date then Duke! You can call me Danny."

~

God what was he going to tell the others? He found the cause for the change in Gotham but Danny seemed to be good, not a villain.

Well he'll keep it a secret for a while more right now he had to prepare for his date!

~

Duke sees Danny dancing around in the sky: "We'll have a winter wedding."

~

Duke seeing the Bats stressing and losing sleep trying to figure what's going on: "Should I say something? Hm nah."

~

Danny Dancing around in the sky while Duke is in the background being a supporting bf cheering him on with pom poms: "That's my boyfriend woo~!"

~

The bats for some reason arguing about each other's past relationships and crushes

Steph pointing at Dick: You're the one with the strangest taste seriously out of everyone in this family Duke and I are the only ones with normal taste! Right Duke!"

Duke " My Boyfriend is a Being/Ancient Ghost of Space That Most of the Time Doesn't Look Human/Humanoid" Thomas: * face sweating while he tries to sneak out of the room* "Umm..*voice crack* y-yeah."

~

I really enjoyed writing this one, I don't see a lot of Duke/Danny, but the works I've read are all so wonderful ♡

~

Just an Idea

#nightlight #duke x danny #Space Acient Danny au #duke thomas #signal dc #dpxdc #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #batman #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dcxdp

[skbeaumont]

"Make Me Wanna" | Jackson!Joel x Reader oneshot

Song: Make Me Wanna - Thomas Rhett Summary: Joel fucks you in the back of a truck. That's literally it. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, 18+, porn with a smattering of plot, smut, PIV, dirty talk, pets names (baby, darling), kind of dom!Joel, established relationship, Jackson era Word Count: 3.2k A/N: As always, the lyrics have been worked into the story, so if you can listen please do!

There are two working vehicles in Jackson. The school bus – a large van that serves as transport for the kids in the winter, when the paths freeze over and the snow falls too thick to walk through – and a ’75 Chevy Cheyenne. It’s the keys to this that Tommy hands Joel one early morning, the dry Wyoming summer heat already pushing the mercury up into the eighties.

The rest of the town are still asleep, but you, Joel, and Tommy are outside in the square, your conversation chorused by the call of the town’s raggedy old rooster. Joel’s having trouble concentrating on his brother’s instructions, his eyes flicking like the hands on a clock to the way the dress you pulled on this morning clings to your ass and hips, the thin cotton leaving very little to his imagination.

He’s sure you’ve done it on purpose; there can be no other reason to wear such an impractical outfit when you’re heading out beyond the wall. Sure, it’s an easy run – up to the dam, check everything’s in order, head back – but Joel’s not sure how he’s even going to make it there with you in that ridiculous damn dress, curves calling out to him. It makes him wanna-

“Joel, are even you listening?” Tommy’s voice cuts through his reverie, has him shaking his head like he’s trying to clear it of flies.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“What was the last thing I just said?”

“Uh,”

Tommy rolls his eyes and Joel looks at you for help, but you just smile at him innocently with dimples in your cheeks, batting your eyelashes like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Jesus Joel, can’t you concentrate for two minutes?”

Tommy relaunches into his lecture about the dam and the route, and Joel tries to pay attention to the words, tries to ignore the way you’re gliding a single finger across the small of his back, hand dipping under his shirt to reach the hot skin there. It’s such an innocent gesture, the pad of your finger caressing him gently, without urgency, but it sends electricity coiling up his spine.

For your part, it’s all you can do not to jump him here and now. Tommy’s early morning wakeup call disturbed what was shaping up to be a very pleasant morning in bed with Joel, and there’s an insistent warmth in your belly at the memory of his rough stubble on the back of your neck as you lay together in bed not an hour ago. You’re wondering how far you can push him, how riled up he’ll have to be before he sacks in this run and takes you back to bed.

Finally convinced that Joel’s taken on board at least some of what he’s said, or perhaps fed up of trying to talk to him while he’s clearly so distracted, Tommy leads you both to an old barn where the vehicles are kept. The chevvy is a faded, sun-bleached red: a worn leather front bench up front, large enough for three or four people to sit in a line, with an open bed in the back. You climb into the cab next to Joel, shuffle yourself over so that you’re almost in his lap where he sits at the wheel.

“Wanna explain what this is about?” He asks as he starts the engine, gesturing to the dress with his free hand.

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.” You reply, and you can hear him rolling his eyes, hear the tight, whispered Jesus Christ as he shifts the truck into gear.

It’s a slow drive through Jackson; the narrow streets aren’t built for vehicles. Joel steers the truck around the chicken coops and picnic benches, taking you to the front of town where the gates are. Here, the watchers on the duty lever open the corrugated metal wall that separates Jackson from the wilderness outside, and Joel guides the truck through.

You haven’t had much of a chance to spend time outside the walls since your arrived in Jackson some four months ago, but even so, you find it hard to take in the countryside and wide, rolling hills with Joel sat next to you, his warm hand on your thigh. You trace patterns across the back of his hand, follow the lines of old scars and new scratches, let your fingertips trail higher, up to his bare wrist, over the prominent veins that sit just beneath his tan skin.

“I know what you’re doin’” He says, voice dark as he squeezes your thigh in his grip, a warning you’re bound to ignore.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” You repeat, letting go of his wrist to lean across in your seat, reaching for the glove box. You pull it open.

“Aha!” A cassette tape falls out into your hand, writing blurred with age but still legible. “County Sound FM.”

You slide it into the old cassette player set in the dash, hold your breath as it cracks and pops and then starts playing.

“Is this…” Joel turns his head slightly, angling so that the gentle rhythm and rolling melody can reach his good ear. “R.E.M.?”

“Man on the Moon,” You confirm, looking at the track listing on the cassette.

“Jesus.” He says, shaking his head.

He takes a right at the end of the main track up to Jackson, down a dirt road that’s overhung with dense trees. You let your eyes trace over his profile; the strong, curved line of his nose, dark stubble that’s flecked with grey. His jaw is set, but he’s nodding along with the music. He catches you watching him out of the corner of his eye and squeezes your thigh again, kneading the flesh there.

“You gotta stop looking at me that way, baby,” He says, shifting the fabric of your dress so that he can drag his hand further up your leg, the heat of his palm almost feverish against you.

You shift in the seat, open your legs wider, encouraging him to move higher still and then turn into him, press you lips against the juncture of his throat, inching your own hand over the front of his jeans where he’s already half hard.

“You know there’s only so much I can take,” His voice is gruff against the lightness of the country song. “You make me wanna…”

He trails off and you huff a laugh against his collarbone, move your mouth to his ear so that you can say, “make you wanna what, Joel?” into it.

“Pull this truck to the side of the road, for a start.” He says, turning his head to look at you.

His eyes are dark, expression serious, a frown creasing his brow. The hand he’s got on the steering wheel is gripping it tight, knuckles white against the dark leather of the grip. You can see the tension in his shoulders, his thighs when he shifts as you run the flat of your hand against his cock.

“If you don’t stop,” He says, voice catching in his throat, “I’m gonna- fuck, darlin’, Jesus Christ.”

He breaks off as you slip your hand suddenly under the waistband of his jeans, wrist barely squeezing between the buckle of his belt and his stomach. His cock jerks against your hand, smearing precum across your knuckles as you fight against the tight denim. “Gonna what?” You ask again, wrapping your fist around his cock, letting your thumb run over the silky tip of him. “Pull the truck over? Go on then.”

The truck veers to one side, brakes squealing out as Joel brings it to a stop at the side of the road, tree branches scratching against the windows.

“Slide on over, then,” He says, turning into you, leaning back and opening his legs so that you can climb into his lap.

His gaze is hot and hard and animalistic as you settle against him. You reach between your heaving chests to paw at the button to his jeans but he grabs your wrists, grins at you, eyes glinting.

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking,” He says, wrapping two solid arms around and pulling you flush to his chest, mouth resting at the shell of your ear. “I’ll tell you everything I’m thinking.”

He buries his mouth at your throat, licks and sucks and nips at the tender flesh there, kneads your ass with his hands.

“I think you’re an impatient little thing who needs to learn some manners,” He says, his voice thick, “and I think I’m gonna take you to the back of this track and fuck you on the tailgate. How does that sound?”

He barely gives you a chance to answer, just tucks your dress out of the way so that he can reach down between your ass cheeks to the wet line of your panties, following the crotch round over your cunt to the hard nub of your clit, already swollen and throbbing under his ministrations.

“Joel, please,” You whine, as he teases you with two of his fingers, circling your entrance but not breaching it.

“You know better than to wear that dress, baby,” he says into your throat, “Oughta be against the law,”

He pulls back, fists a hand in your hair and drags your mouth to his. The kiss is heated and ferocious from the start; Joel pulls your lower lip into his mouth with his teeth, draws out your keening moans with a clever flick of his tongue.

“I need you, Joel, please,” You say, trying again to undo the button on his jeans.

“Ain’t room in here,” He says, reaching over the pop open his door, “in the back, like I said. C’mon.”

You follow him out and round to the back of the truck. He lets the tailgate fall with a soft clunk, takes his jacket off and spreads it out on the dusty metal of the truck bed.

“Hop on up,” He says, shooting you a grin that’s laced with mirth and heat, his eyes crinkling mischievously.

You do as he says, sitting up on the open tailgate. He steps between your thighs, presses them open with two large hands so that he can fit there. Running one hand up your chest to your breast, he presses his clothed cock against the wet line of your panties, circles his hips so that the rough denim catches against your clit and makes you moan.

When he pulls back he takes your panties off, dragging them down your legs with two fingers before pushing them into the pocket of his jeans. It makes your stomach clench, the sight of them peeking out, the pink lace a stark contrast to the worn dark denim, marking you as his. With them out of the way, Joel wastes no time in pressing two fingers into your soaking cunt, grinning down at you as you yelp at the sudden intrusion. It turns into a whimper as he bends them just so, the calloused pads of his fingertips searching out that tender spot inside that has you curling your toes and clawing at his shoulders.

“There she is,” He says, chuckling darkly, pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit and applying a steady, gentle pressure.

It’s intoxicating – the firm pressure of his fingers inside you, the sure, confident thrum of his thumb over your clit. It’s like being drunk on no alcohol, just Joel, his breathy sighs and warm scent enveloping you, wrapping you up in a haze of heady desire.

“Gonna come for me, darlin’?” He asks as he feels you start to tense around him.

He trails his free hand along the side of your jaw, drawing your face back to his so that he can kiss you again, swallow down your moans as you jolt and shake against him, the orgasm rising up suddenly in your belly, sending spikes of ecstasy through your quivering cunt.

“Good girl,” He whispers, drawing his fingers out.

He pulls them up to his mouth, places his fingertips against his lush bottom lip and slides his tongue over them, groaning at the taste of you.

“You wear this dress jus’ for me, baby?” He asks, fisting the fabric between his knuckles as he unbuckles his belt, “Know just how to turn me on, don’t you?”

You nod, watching him pull his cock out of the confines of his jeans. He drags the swollen, weeping head against your folds, drawing air in through his teeth as he does, hissing the breath back out.

“Good girl,” He keens, using the fist that’s clutching your dress to drag you forward in the truck bed so that he can line himself up. “Feel how hard I am for you, hmm, baby? Get me so goddamn worked up I can’t think straight.”

He presses the thick length of himself against you, covering his shaft with your slick. He pulls back slightly, places the fat head of his cock at the entrance of your cunt, curses through his teeth as he inches inside, a drawn out, breathy “fuck, baby”, that has desire coiling up your spine. A muscle jumps in his jaw as you watch his face, watch his eyebrows pull up as he sinks into you, the slight tilt to his mouth, a steady slow breath pouring out of him with the effort of not slamming into you in one hard thrust.

“Okay?” He asks, holding himself still when he bottoms out, waiting for your confirmation that he can keep going.

“Move, Joel, please, God.”

A chuckle echoes deep in his chest at this, and then he wraps his arms under your thighs, pulls you firmly into him and drags himself out before slamming back inside. He sets a punishing pace. It’s all you can do to grip onto his shoulders, dig your fingernails into the firm muscles of his back and let him fuck you, his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. You watch the beads of perspiration rise on his forehead and cheeks, trace them as they roll down his face to his neck, the tendons there straining as he continues to pound into you. He’s quiet, mostly, grunting and cursing in a rasping voice, fuck, that’s it and Jesus Christ, baby.

“Got the softest pussy I’ve ever felt, darlin’.” He praises you, pressing kisses to your forehead, the side of your neck, groaning as he drags his teeth against your jaw, “gripping me so fucking tight.”

A familiar heat is coiling up inside you again, making your stomach clench and your toes curl in the boots you’re still wearing. Joel knows, can tell by the way you squeeze your eyes tight shut, hands gripping his forearms where they hold your thighs up. He changes the angle, shifts his hips so that his cock hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, spikes of pleasure sparking in your cunt right through to the tips of your fingers. You come around his cock, fingernails digging into the hard muscles of his arms, no doubt leaving indents that will mark him as yours when you return to town later.

“That’s it, baby, comin’ all over my cock like a good fuckin’ girl.” He presses his lips to yours, licks his tongue into your mouth, teeth biting into your bottom lip, pain blossoming into pleasure.

He slows his thrusts as you come down from your high, dragging his cock against the roof of your cunt and running a hand up your side, over the curve of your hips up to your breast. He pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, soothes your moans with his mouth on yours, swallowing them as they fall from your lips.

“I know, baby, I know.” He says, picking up the pace again, snapping his hips to yours, fisting his hand into your hair. “Can you give me one more? One more and I’ll come in this perfect cunt, hmm?”

He reaches between your writhing bodies, presses his fingers to the bundle of nerves above where he’s thrusting into you and draws circles over your clit. The pressure is firm and fucking perfect, Joel’s fingers confident and sure in what they’re doing. He knows your body like the back of his hand, has spent hours learning how to make you come. It only takes a few minutes before you feel yourself tightening around his cock again, eyes squeezing shut, but this time he lets go of your thigh with his free hand and grabs your chin.

“Eyes open, baby, I want you to look at me while I make you come.”

And you do, locking your eyes onto his. His pupils are blown wide, eating into the chocolate brown of his irises. His brow is furrowed with the effort of fucking you, making the lines that paint his face stand out. There’s a bead of sweat sliding down one cheek, and he bites his lip between his teeth as you come, cunt clenching around him.

“Fuck, that’s it baby, good girl” He keeps circling his fingers as you come, drawing out your orgasm, his voice vibrating in your chest. “Jesus Christ, I’m gonna come. Shit.”

He groans, holding himself still as he spurts inside you, ropes of come painting your cunt as you contract around him. You’re both breathless then, panting and holding each other, your fingers pinching his skin, his hand tangled in your hair.

“I can’t believe we did that.” You say, suddenly laughing as you realise how reckless you’ve been, out here in the middle of nowhere, Joel’s gun long since forgotten on the back seat of the truck.

“Well, you know better than to wear that dress,” Joel says, pressing his lips to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, the side of your neck. “You make me wanna…”

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #jackson!joel #tlouJackson #SoundCloud

[angelfic]

Howdy! Could I request a Theodore Nott, secret relationship, “don’t leave me… please”. ❤️

here u go!! i actually really like this idea and kind of wanna recycle it for a longer fic maybe.. 🤔 thank u for the request! 💌

theodore nott x reader + secret relationship + “don’t leave me… please”

➺ part of my 2k milestone writing game

You’re stressfully stirring sugar into your tea in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place when Mattheo and Theodore turn up, bruised and bloody in the hands of Alastor Moody.

The Auror had sent a message in advance through his Patronus, alerting members of the Order that he was heading to headquarters with two death eater defectors. An hour of hoping it’s who you think, and three cups of tea later, you breathe a sigh of relief when you realise Mattheo and Theo are alive.

The way Theo is leaning his weight on Mattheo doesn’t slip past you, and as soon as he finds you among the others, you rush forward.

“Hi,” Theo whispers, the greeting reserved only for you despite the numerous others in the dining room. His eyes are drooping slightly as he sways on his feet. Nonetheless, he gives you a weak smile. “I’m okay. I promise.”

You nod slowly, brows furrowed in concern despite his reassurance. Ignoring Moody’s confused stares, along with the whispering happening behind you, you do a quick scan of Mattheo and find that he’s definitely had worse injuries from spontaneous fist fights during your years at Hogwarts.

“Are you okay?” you mouth at him, just in case. He winks at you in answer.

Moody, seemingly snapping out of his confusion, turns to you and raises a brow. “You know these two, then?” he asks gruffly, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.

“We all went to school together,” Dean Thomas pipes up, saving you from having to stumble over your words in an attempt to explain your relationship with Theo.

There’s no doubt in your mind that everyone in the room suspects you and Theo are more than just schoolmates, but you don’t move to address anything. The implications of you being in love with an ex-death eater aside, it’s none of their business. Moody doesn’t quite seem to accept this immediately.

”School,” he mutters, nodding begrudgingly. “And how well do you-”

“Alastor,” McGonagall cuts him off sharply. Peering at him over her spectacles, she purses her lips. “You can get to interrogating them about being Transfiguration partners after they’ve recovered. These boys need a healer. Now.”

“Yes, yes,” Moody replies grumpily, reluctantly letting them go to open the door to the hall. “We’ve got Poppy in the living room. She’ll fix them up, nice and quick.”

You step back to give the two boys space to make their way to the Healer, but Theo catches your hand and grips it tightly. “No. No, Y/N can do it. Just give her some of the medicine, I’m not seeing anyone else.”

You open your mouth to object, wanting Madame Pomfrey to assess him properly, but the pleading in his eyes has you hesitating.

“Don’t leave me…” Theo’s voice becomes lower, quieter and earnest. “Please.”

“Okay,” you exhale, cupping his face with your hand and stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. You look over at Professor McGonagall for confirmation and when she sighs and nods, you respond with a grateful smile before turning back to Theo. “I won’t leave you.”

Mattheo clears his throat, popping the little bubble you and Theo have found yourself in and making you look away, cheeks warm. Walking over to where Moody holds the door open, Mattheo gives you both a knowing look before speaking to the rest of the room. “I guess I‘ll be seeing dear, old Poppy alone then. Nothing she hasn’t fixed before.”

Taking this as your cue to leave, you wrap an arm around Theo’s waist to support him as you make your way out of the room and up the stairs to an empty room. You help him to sit on the bed and disentangle your hand from his, dropping a kiss to the inside of his palm. “I need to go get the stuff from Madame Promfrey, I won’t be a minute-”

“Not yet,” Theo pleads, hooking pinky finger around your own and tugging lightly. “I’m not that injured, just… come here for a second.”

Your resolve crumbles immediately due to not having seen Theo since school ended a month ago, during which he was trying to leave the other side of the war without getting himself killed. You sit next to him on the bed, but he immediately reaches over to manoeuvre you by the waist until your legs are wrapped around him in a straddling position. Theo presses a soft kiss to your lips and the pure love radiating from him makes your heart jump to your throat. When he pulls away, he looks more relaxed and content than he has in months.

“Hi,” he says, a gentle smile playing about his lips while he fingers the hem of your shirt where it sits at your back. Tingles run down your spine where his cold fingers brush against your skin and you end up leaning into his chest even more, causing his smile to deepen. “I missed you, darling.”

“What, Crabbe and Goyle weren’t good company?” you tease, tilting your head. Theo scoffs in disgust, lightly tugging on a lock of your hair and looking at you expectantly. “I missed you too, Theo. So, so much. I’m glad you got out.”

“Me too,” he sighs, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder. You both stay in silence for a few minutes and you bask in the warmth of Theo’s breaths fanning over your collarbone. He nestles his face into your neck and seems perfectly happy just to stay there when he speaks. “It was torture staying away, you know. I’m never leaving your side again.”

You run your fingers through Theo’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp and biting back a smile when he lets out a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan. “You being glued to me is probably going to make it clear that we’re more than ex-Transfiguration partners, by the way.”

“I bet you anything they all already know,” Theo murmurs distractedly. You frown and sit up straighter to look at him, raising a curious brow in questioning. He looks at you like it’s obvious. “Mattheo is downstairs, unsupervised. If he hasn’t told everyone by now…”

You shake your head, shifting to move off Theo’s lap. A pout forms on his lips, but he reluctantly lets you stand. “I better go do some damage control while I go get the stuff from Pomfrey. Merlin knows what embarrassing things Mattheo is telling them right now.”

“I can think of a few things,” Theo says, his innocent voice contrasting with the devious smirk on his face. “Like the time we were in the Astronomy Tower and you were too loud, so-”

“Right, okay!” you interrupt loudly, screwing your eyes shut in embarrassment as you try your best not to relive that particular memory. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the way Theo is cracking up, you smile sweetly at him. “You haven’t had any injuries to the head, have you?”

“No, love,” he replies, grinning. “Why?”

You grab a pillow and swing it into Theo’s face, knocking him backwards on the bed. Crossing your arms in satisfaction, you falter when he stays laying down and moans in pain.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” you rush out, panicked as you move the pillow out of the way to climb onto the bed and hover over him. Theo cracks his eyes open slightly, his face scrunched up in discomfort and your stomach drops. “Theo, where does it hurt?”

“Here, come closer,” Theo winces, gesturing you forward, closer and closer and you furrow your brows in confusion. When you’re close enough, he snakes his hand around to the nape of your neck and pulls you into a deep kiss, burying his fingers in your hair. You don’t bother admonishing him, your head getting dizzy from the feel of his lips moving against your own. You only pull away when you hear sudden laughter coming from downstairs. Theo doesn’t look ashamed in the slightest when you do. “All better.”

“Not yet, you’re not,” you say, rolling your eyes and sitting up again. You make sure you put all of your weight on the mattress to do so, just in case you actually do end up hurting him. “I’m actually going downstairs now, okay? The idea of Mattheo talking to McGonagall is driving me crazier by the minute.”

“Come back quickly?” he asks lightly, but there’s a hint of pleading in the way his hand circles your wrist. You give him a reassuring smile and another quick peck on the lips.

“Always.”

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #Theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott x y/n #Theodore nott fluff #theodore nott smut #theo nott #Theodore nott imagines

[sarasade]

One of the most generally useful things to come out of Hbomberguy's plagiarism video and Todd in the Shadows' similar video on misinformation is how they bring transparency to the internet phenomenon of "I made up a guy to get mad at".

Seriously, I've seen people make up a lot of stupid shit on the internet over the years and it's often just a manipulative attempt to paint a group of marginalized people in a bad light.

That's the TL;DR version of this post. 

ANYWAY here is the long version

Those videos are mostly about James Somerton's plagiarism of other queer people's work. However I'd like to talk about that 20-30% of Somerton's original writing- and oh boy. It's mostly about complaining about White Straight Women and misgendering well-known trans creators such as Rebecca Sugar and calling Becky Albertalli a straight woman while it's pretty common knowledge that she was forced to out herself as bi because she received so much harassment over "being a cishet woman who appropriates LGBT+ stories".

One thing that irks me especially is how in his Killing Stalking and Gay Shipping videos Somerton brings up how straight women/ teen girl shippers exploit gay men for their personal sexual fantasies. This gets brought up several times in his videos.

Being all up and arms about Somerton being a "White Cis Gay Who Hates Women and Queer People tm" is not that useful because the kind of rhetoric he's using is extremely common in fandom and LGBT+ spaces on Tumblr, TikTok and Twitter. We really don't need to bring Somerton's identity to this since he is in no way an unique example.

It's hypocritical to make this about an individual person when I've seen A TON of posts, tweets and videos where queer people talk about these Sinister Straight Women who are supposedly out there fetishizing and exploiting queer men. It's pretty clear to me that this is just an excuse to shit on women and queer people for having any sexual interests. At worst these comments are spreading misinformation about BL, a form of media that has been excessively studied by both Asian feminists and Asian queer women.

This all sounds really familiar and I think it's good that people are calling it out as what it is: misogyny and transphobia. I'd also point out the potentially racist motives behind being this hypervigilant about Asian media.

People can absolutely be misogynist regardless of gender or orientation. I really don't know why we need to create some kind of made up enemy to get mad at. I actually think it's almost sinister how "anti-fujoshi" people call Slash shippers and fujoshi misogynists or claim that they have internalised misogyny while being dismissive about women's interests and creative pursuits under Japanese obscenity laws, China's censorship, book bans in American schools and various other disadvances that are part of being a queer and/or female creator.

I think we shouldn't be naive about the bad faith actors who want to turn queer people against each other. For example Fujoshi.info mentions anti-gender (TERF, GC etc) movement using this kind of rhetoric as well.

Anyway if you want to read more:

- about the false info around BL fandom fujoshi.info

-There is the scholar Thomas Baudinette who studies gay media in Japan. Here is a podcast with him and the scholar Khursten Santos

-James Welker is a BL scholar as well. Here is a podcast interview about the new international BL article collection he edited.

-I've already talked about this Youtube channel by KrisPNatz and his great Killing Stalking video that actually engages with the themes of the manhwa

- There is also HR Coleman's thesis DO NOT FEED THE FETISHIZERS: BOYS LOVE FANS RESISTANCE AND CHALLENGE OF PERCEIVED REPUTATION where she interviews 36 BL fans and actually breaks down why fetishization has become such a huge talking point in the fandom discourse. Spoilers, it's mostly about young queer people and women being worried that they will get judged and pathologized for their interest in anything sexual.

-Great podcast about Danmei and censorship with Liang Ge

#Also I don't mean that you can always tell if someone is a transphobe or a TERF based on a couple of things they have said. #My point is that sometimes ok people can have very regressive ideas too. #This is not a call out post about how we should go around accusing anti-fujoshi people #todd in the shadows #hbomberguy #sarasade text #even I've got those “Fandom is mostly straight women fetishizing gay men” comments once and it begins to sound kind of passive-aggressive #when you're a bi woman. Lot of fandom stats at AO3 show that fandoms are montly bi women. who are these people calling straight exactly hmm #also straight women are completely ok leave them alone. I know I know Yes I'm so brave for saying this #cw: transphobia

[iceunhie]

JEALOUSY IS A FICKLE THING...

ft. al-haitham, ayato, wriothesley, lyney

warnings : gender neutral, jealousy, mentions of suggestive content on wriothesley's part, established relationship, you are wriothesley's spouse. erm slight dark content but it's okay it isn't implied, we need more men like them in the world

mhie's notes : i used the wheel randomizer for this i hope everyone's proud i write for anyone other than scara ijbol

al-haitham’s jealousy is muted; quiet and hardly noticeable, often non-existent unless you have the fortune of knowing him deeply enough (kaveh). make no mistake, al-haitham trusts you, he simply doesn’t trust those that make moves on you when he was clearly right there. when some bothersome person disrupts you both on a simple date, which is already a clear red warning sign, for the acting grand sage hardly has any time to spare; naturally, his reaction would be to put a complete stop to any and all the flirty remarks towards you with a flat tone.

it’s not the content of the words that make the person making a move on you leave, but the slight menacing edge to al-haitham’s voice, a sign that if they do intend to cross the line more than necessary, he won’t just be using his words.

most would back off after a simple talking-to, but in the case that person doesn’t cease their advance, you can best bet your lover is steering you away immediately. dendro archon forbid they touch you or make you uncomfortable in the slightest, though, or else al-haitham has no qualms contacting the matra or taking matters in his own hands, but this scenario hardly happens often, given his seamless ability to get to the heart of the conflict and uprooting it so that no problems arise.

he’d most likely opt to diffuse the situation by straight-up telling any admirer of yours that you were taken and most definitely not up for grabs.

“they are my lover. since you’re clearly crossing their preferred boundaries and seem ignorant of the fact, i’d advise you to stop making them feel any more uncomfortable.”

though it’s truly difficult to get al-haitham jealous due to the excellent control of his emotions, tempered by his rational thinking, the most you can see of it is how he seems to stay closer to you than usual and the simple but firm link of your fingers as you both continue on your days.

(but if you notice him putting a subtle hand on your waist as you both walk, do try not to comment on it, will you?)

for ayato… er, why have you even bothered? if one even has the nerve to flirt and court the yashiro commissioner’s own partner, then that’d make you either not inazuman, or simply an idiot. it’s no exaggeration, but a simple fact. ayato is by no means a jealous man, but he doesn’t like seeing those not worthy of you hover around you with such impure and unwelcome intentions, so he tells ayaka and thoma, but really, he just wants to call the shuumatsuban on any who dares to even look at you the wrong way.

he bides his time well, approaching your admirer with a genial smile and elegant composure and indulges in small talk, but there’s a chill in the air and the looming feeling of doom as well as his smile that seems to see through any and all actions. its terrifying, really.

it also doesn’t help that he’d be extremely touchy in these moments, seeking to link arms with you and yes, even going as far as to rest his head on your shoulder, a clear indication of exactly how close you two really are. after you introduce him as your lover, at this point, it’s likely that the person making a move on you would back off and run away immediately, for how could they even dare to compete when it’s the yashiro commissioner himself who they’re facing?

he’d gloat silently afterwards in the comfort of his own quarters though, the sight of your admirer cowering like a dog getting cornered by a wolf, ah, truly satisfying. though thoma would eventually tell him to tone down the ‘borderline evil chuckling.’

“my love, have you been well? hm? the change of topic? ah, well, as the saying goes; ‘out of sight, out of mind,’ yes? no need to think about those that’ll only bother you. now, come here, there’s a new hotpot ingredient i’d like you to try… haha, relax, it isn’t dango this time.”

another one with a terrifying reputation and terrifying influence to make even the most daring of your admirers quake in their boots. wriothesley is amused - he gets that there’s hardly any window for romance in such a dreary place like the fortress, but even going as far as to court the duke of meropide’s own spouse? really funny, honestly.

but after the initial wave of amusement, he does take this time to immediately show off his status as your husband, showing off the matching wedding rings and even having the well-deserved nerve to smile and continue on rambling about your marriage, which is clearly a very happy one, judging by the way he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek while maintaining clear eye contact towards the person.

you’d have to wrangle in your husband when you both sleep tonight though, because wriothesley has made it his personal mission for any and all those who wish to covet you to show them that you were his spouse, and no other held your heart or your affections. when morning rises the next day, you promptly leave with a very visible bruise on your neck, and an especially relaxed and happy duke at your heels. most would look away in embarrassment, including your admirers, so that’s that.

“hah, that'll show any of those who have way too much time on their hands to lay their hands off my spouse. what? too brutal? well, sweetheart, what did you expect?”

oh my god lyney. haiz this enigmatic magician… magicians are all about masterfully weaving lies and illusions in order to perform to the top standard, and it's no surprise lyney also uses such methods when dealing with any and all annoyances in your relationship. he can be perfectly fine on the outside, but he has always been good with keeping his more sinister and less than socially acceptable side in check.

in fact, chances are he’d probably charm away your admirer with his own tricks; a wink their way and honeyed suave words to ease their love-struck heart and in seconds your admirer is up and away, promising to leave.

this often gets you disgruntled and in awe of his ‘performance,’ but lyney will always stave off your complaints or questions with a rainbow rose or some other fancy trick of his up his sleeve and guide you away, person courting you forgotten. all according to plan….

in all honesty, lyney isn't as composed about it as he seems. lynette can see it at a glance after you two have separated after the encounter. it shows in the way he broods silently for some time, preferring to divert the attention of such a sore subject away and going about endlessly about what new gifts he might give you or what seat was best for viewing, read: what seat was closest to him, for that matter. her brother was truly such a pain in the neck, and lynette does thank you for making him happy, but really, at this rate, you'd drive him insane by how much sway you hold over him.

“and just a trick of the light here and-! ta-da! a rainbow rose, symbolizing just how much i do adore you, way more than any other! …so don't try to pay attention to them, okay? after all, you've already caught this magician’s eye and heart~”

he can still be pouty and extremely clingy after the encounter though, which carries on whenever he performs any of his shows, where lyney always, always makes one of his acts feature you, be it a simple guess your card trick or his favorite, the one act where he leads you to land up on stage and give him a kiss based on the card’s instructions, it's all to show just how wrong anyone else other than him would make you as elated as lyney does.

@ MHIIEEE 2023 : do not copy, repost or plagiarize my work.

btw can you tell i had fun writing for al-haitham despite the fact that i have never even been remotely interested in him in the entirety of the game

#mhie's spirals #astronetwrk #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #al haitham x reader #lyney x reader #wriothesley x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #al haitham #lyney genshin

[komitomi]

Hi Komi! I just stumbled upon your account after reading an Alhaitham imagine of yours and it was AMAZING. I wanted to request Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Thoma after finding your G-spot? Thank you!!

that genuinely means a lot to me, thank you so much for liking my work <33 and yes!!

Finding your gspot :: alhaitham, kaveh, thoma (separate) x afab!f!reader

MDNI, NSFW WARNINGS: fingering (alhaitham, thoma), cunnilingus (thoma), p in v sex (kaveh), slightly mean!alhaitham, virgin!kaveh, gentle!thoma, small bit of fluff at thoma's part, cumming inside (kaveh), using spit as lube (alhaitham), reader is called a whore once (alhaitham) + not proofread.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

Alhaitham:

You were currently sprawled out on his desk after you decided to tease him by disturbing him while he was focused on his studies, at first you sat on his lap, straddling him as he sat on his chair, but that didn't seem to bring out any reaction so you opted to grinding yourself against him.

Your intentions were to just tease him and be done with it but all that led to was the position you were in right now, alhaitham had you spread out on his desk, gazing at your dripping cunt, you felt extremely embarassed.

He lubed up his finger with his spit before teasing it against your hole and gently shoving it in, you gripped onto the table tightly and clenched your stomach muscles, “Relax.” he coos and you do relax.

That was until he adds another finger and curls his finger inside you, slightly hitting your gspot which ripped a pornographic moan out of you, alhaitham was kind of amused so he pressed harder, which made you arch your back, he smirked lightly at this.

You couldn't help but grind yourself against his fingers, he pumps his fingers in and out of you and doesn't miss hitting your gspot, which eventually makes you cum all over his fingers and the desk.

“tsk, tsk, such a dirty little whore” he clicks his tongue and pulls his fingers out of you before licking them, all that he knew was that those biology lessons definitely paid off that day.

Kaveh:

Kaveh was a virgin obviously, so the first few times you guys had sex it was more experimenting and a little challenging, you yourself haven't had many experiences but you were kind of well-versed, but kaveh? he had no idea what he was doing the first few times and you didn't mind, and guided him through it.

Now imagine his surprise as he was thrusting into you as usual and suddenly he changes angle which makes the tip of his dick brush over a spot that brought a loud moan from you, unlike any he heard before.

He halted not knowing what that was, thinking it caused you pain, but you whined and told him to continue that way, he had obeyed and continued thrusting into you, in the same angle, watching your reactions, he had no idea what it was but definitely knew you liked it.

You for sure would not have believed that he was inexperienced because the way he was thrusting so effortlessly into you right now, and hitting all the right spots while showering kisses on your body seemed like what an experienced person would do, but it all seemed to come so naturally to him, sure it took a little bit of time but hey, it was all worth it.

He continued to thrust into you, watching the way you react to his pacing, “F-faster!” you yell out, throwing your head back, he looks at you before speeding up his pace, you grip onto his shoulder tightly as your high was reaching you, moaning and whining as his cock bullied itself into your hole.

You come undone beneath him, coating his dick with your juices, he was surprised at this but continued to thrust before he finished himself inside you, he pulled out his dick to notice clear and a rather sticky substance on it, he looked back at you to ask you a question but you were laying there panting and tired.

He later learnt that the spot he was hitting which made you react in such a sensitive way was your gspot, and that the clear but sticky substance was your cum, not be confused with your wetness, he never knew women can orgasm like that, he only ever knew about clitoris orgasm, that too which he learnt from you, but never this, he was very fascinated to say the least.

Ever since that accidental discovery, kaveh's game and experience had improved rapidly, and he was proud of it.

Thoma:

“H-ha...! F-fuck right there thoma~!” you moan, throwing your head back, as you grip thoma's hair tightly, his tongue swirling around your bud, kissing it and licking it as if his life depended on it, you grind your hips against his face to match the rhythm of his tongue.

Thoma's hands kept your thighs apart, as he continued making out with your cunt, your hand left his hair and you propped yourself up on your elbows before shifting your entire weight onto one and grabbing his hair again, you looked at him with a dazed expression as he flicked his tongue against your clit before engulfing it with his mouth.

You groaned at the pleasure, you brushed his hair back, pushing away the strands of hair that were slightly tickling you as he ate you out, you felt one of his hands leave your thigh and to your entrance, he pulled away from your clit and shifted on his knees, before pushing one finger into your cunt gently before leaning down once again, to toy with your bud.

“O-oh god!” you moaned as you gripped his hair tighter making him groan, he slowly pushed the finger inside and out of you and added another one inside when he thought you were ready to take it, you gasp and felt your thighs quake.

His fingers were plunged deep inside you as he moved them like an expert, he was searching for your gspot, pressing down at random spots until he felt you shiver against him and let out a whimper, indicating that he found it.

His tongue pressed on your clit simultaneously as his finger pressing against your sensitive spot, you threw your head back and your hand left his hair to grip onto whatever was beneath you.

His tongue moved skillfully against your clit once again, nipping at your bud as he thrusts his fingers deep inside your cunt, you felt your high approaching and you grinded yourself against his face and hand, chasing it.

You felt shockwaves erupt from your body as you reached your high, it wasn't like your any other orgasm, it was more intense, you let out a low scream at the way it came out so harshly, juices gushing out all at once, you took a moment to register as to what happened until you felt thoma pull his fingers out and clean you up with his mouth.

You just squirted all over him, you felt extremely embarassed at it and covered your face with your hands as you laid on your back before you felt thoma on top of you, pulling your hands apart and kissing your mouth, you tasted your high from his mouth, it was salty and sweet at the same time, he pulled away from the kiss and kissed your face insteand.

“Don't be embarassed.” he cooed sweetly while stroking your hair and embracing you.

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin #genshin smut #alhaitham smut #kaveh smut #thoma smut #alhaitham x reader smut #kaveh x reader smut #thoma x reader smut #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #thoma x reader #x reader #x reader smut #genshin x reader #genshin x reader smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader smut

[ikaroux]

How are they with their pregnant partner? Itto, Heizou, Lyney.

Synopsis: Pregnant, your husband/partner is over the moon. But how would he take care of you during pregnancy?

Style: Cute, fluffy, female reader.

Bonus NSFW (18+) I remind minors to avoid reading this kind of content.

Alert: May contain story spoilers for some characters.

Characters: Itto, Heizou, Lyney.

Note: Wow, it's been so long since I've written NSFW…. I'm a bit rusty.

Then I'll have to do Aether, Neuvillette and Wriothesley, as well as diving back into rewriting the old texts in this series. I'd also like to do Freminet… Let me know if you're interested in other characters.

Since I now have an AO3 account, I decided to rewrite the first versions of this series to post them on it. I hope you'll still enjoy them.

Part 1 Diluc, Zhongli, Kaeya, Xiao, Venti, Albedo, Kazuha, Childe.

Part 2 Scaramouche, Dainsleif, Thomas.

Part 3 Dottore, Pantalone, Alhaitham.

Part 4 Cyno, Ayato.

Part 5 Tighnari.

Part 6 Capitano, Kaveh + Bonus

"Ah?! A ba-baby!?"

Itto's reaction was surely overblown, yet the expression on his face was undoubtedly to die for. Mouth wide open, he stared at you in shock, taking a long moment before pulling himself together.

Bursting into laughter, he wrapped his muscular arms around you. "Ha ha ha! I've got to tell the Arataki gang! They'll be so happy to know that their leader will soon be a father! No, wait! I'll announce it to all of Inazuma! Let's have a big party! OYE! SHINOBU!" You hit him hard on the head, red with shame. 

"I forbid you to tell anyone until you're three months pregnant! Have I made myself clear?!" Your stern tone sent shivers up and down his spine. 

"Ah?! Why not now?" You sighed. You may have loved this man with all your being, but he was still exhausting your nerves.

"There's a high risk of miscarriage during this period, which is why I'm asking you not to talk about it... Please. Please." His expression slowly softened as his gaze dipped into yours. Again, he wrapped his arms around you more gently, tenderly kissing your forehead. 

"Understood, boss." You smiled, lovingly returning his embrace.

Itto's behavior during the pregnancy was so exemplary that the members of his gang, Shinobu first, wondered if he hadn't suddenly fallen on his face. He even went so far as to find "honest" jobs here and there to buy you maternity clothes and furniture for his future bedroom.

Your husband had the ingenious idea of consulting the high priestess Yae Miko for advice on your pregnancy... Peculiar. Itto knew of no demon in his circle who had fathered a child with a human. His instincts warned him of the risks you could run with a half-demon baby. Miko will make sure you're taken care of by a midwife who knows the oni world.

You felt terribly ill during your pregnancy. From beginning to end, your vomiting and discomfort drove Itto crazy with worry. You could see him running around looking for anything that would make you feel better. If you were vomiting, Itto would stay with you, stroking your back until it passed. If you felt dizzy, he'd lift you into his arms and sit you on his lap, rocking you gently until you felt better.

Often, you could see your companion admiring you with a blissful expression. "Why are you looking at me like that?" you'd ask him every time, knowing perfectly well his answer. You loved hearing him repeat the same passionate, loving words to you. "I just think you're beautiful. I can't take my eyes off you. Héhé." Itto always had this little blush on his face when he admired your rounded belly. Really, pregnancy made him much softer and more considerate than usual.

You didn't like people touching your belly just because you were pregnant. And it took you a long time to accept that Itto would do it without you grumbling. Yet it was his childlike smile and the stars in his eyes that gradually made you accept the situation.

Itto would often talk to his baby, telling him how his day was going or stories about the oni clans. You could only listen, rolling your eyes as he combined words with gestures. Even so, you couldn't resist stroking your companion's imposing hair, smiling tenderly as you watched him.

When your belly is rounded enough to be visible even from several meters away, Itto will make a habit of always kissing it, amused by the baby's kicks that would distort your belly. "HAHAHA this child will be big and strong, just like his father!"

It was quite amusing to see your companion preparing for the birth of your child, taking crash courses with a few women from your village. Shinobu was obviously making sure that his boss used the right gestures to calm a child's cries, change its diapers or properly hold its baby in his arms.

As expected, the delivery was difficult. Giving birth to a half-demon child demanded a strength your human body didn't possess. Blood loss made you wince and Itto thought for a moment he was going to lose you both. But you showed exemplary strength, and the support of your companion, as well as that of the high priestess, enabled you to pass this difficult ordeal. Your baby's cries echoed through the room, and Itto wept loudly, clutching your hand to his cheek. His tremors and muffled sobs made you smile tenderly, as happy as he was that all had ended well.

Itto was speechless as he took his child in his arms for the first time. Was this little crying creature his baby? The one he'd seen growing in your belly? HIS child?! He was so tiny, so cute with his little scarlet horns barely visible on the top of his skull. Not quite knowing how to soothe his crying baby, you showed him the right way to rock him and... Surprisingly, Itto was extremely good at it...

Your tender oni is said to be a very protective and cheerful father. He wants his child to always see the world in a positive light. He'll sometimes be a bit too daredevil with him, earning your wrath. Fortunately for you, Itto will calm down over the years…

NSFW Bonus

"POUAH, I'm exhausted!" Itto dropped onto the bed, arms and legs spread wide as he let his heavy eyes close. "The Arataki gang gave it their all again today. Hehe, at least we're not causing Shinobu any more trouble!" Watching him out of the corner of your eye, you smiled slyly, striding towards him with hushed steps. The oni opened his eyes abruptly when he felt you climb astride his hips, your hands sensually massaging his bare chest. You'd always appreciated the firmness of his muscles, taking pleasure in exploring each of his curves to discover the most sensitive places he hid. Leaning over him, letting your chest, slightly swollen with pregnancy hormones, rest against his, you nibbled his lower lip. His eyes, immediately filling with desire, couldn't tear themselves away from yours. You could quickly feel your lover hardening beneath you.

"Do you still have enough strength left to care for your companion in need?" You mumble erotically in his ear, teasing his nipples with your fingertips. "I want it terribly~" Itto lifts his hips to meet yours, one of his hands positioning itself on your waist to rock you onto your back.

"Do you feel that?" His hand crept under your clothes, passing the band of your underwear to caress your femininity. "Héhé~ you're already soaking wet darling~ Is it being pregnant that puts you in the mood?" Without giving you time to respond to his comment, Itto enters two fingers deep inside you, making you cry out in surprise. He knew perfectly well where all your sensitive points were, pressing slyly on them to make you moan loudly. Your body sought to escape the delicious torture he was inflicting, his fingers aggressively penetrating you. "Don't awaken the beast in me if you don't want to writhe in pleasure under my ministrations." Itto was a completely different man when he had sex with you, his usually jovial face transforming into a darker expression as his desires got the better of him.

Pregnant or not, he was never one to go out of his way. Itto knew he was big, too big for you, and foreplay was always a mandatory step before he could implant his sex inside you. "Look at you, darling, your breasts are so big with pregnancy. I want to lick them terribly!" Itto grabbed one of your breasts between his lips, adding a third finger inside you as his free hand groped his pants to pull out his excruciatingly hard member. It was too much for you, and your back arched beneath him, your hips swaying to the rhythm of his fingers. You were so close, and seeing him caress himself while he fingered you made you come hard on his hand. Itto pulled away slightly you, leaning toward the other nipple he hadn't yet teased. "Not yet... Not until you can take four inside you." Damn, that damned demon!

Itto looked thirstier than you, his eyes glowing scarlet as he watched you cum with four of his fingers inside you, just as he'd promised. Sex with him had always been sport, but now that you were pregnant, everything seemed more intense. When he finally penetrated you, that damned demon took a malicious pleasure in watching you from all his height, holding your legs close to his hips as he pounded you rigorously. His eager eyes darted between your face distorted with pleasure, your swollen breasts bouncing with each of his hip thrusts and your slightly rounded belly.

Itto was a man of stamina, far more than anything you could take. So when you begged him to stop, the oni would comply at once, fear settling in his brain. Had he hurt you? Was the baby all right? None of the above... But you were clearly close to fainting. Itto, aware that he'd been a bit hard on you, will take care of your body, immersing you with him in a warm bath, his big hands massaging your shoulders. He won't be frightened to see you asleep in his arms, so, taking advantage of your sleep, your companion will cuddle you tenderly, one hand resting on your belly, lovingly caressing it.

"I'm going to be a dad? Really?"

You smiled tenderly, taking his trembling hands in yours. Heizou's gaze flickered between your eyes and your belly. A baby? You were pregnant?! His mind blurred as a vision of you with a round belly popped into his head. All of a sudden, the word dad sounded pretty good in his head... Kneeling in front of you, Heizou encircled your thighs with his arms, placing a tender ear close to your belly, a joyful smile on his lips. "I'm going to be a daddy... I'm going to be... Daddy!" Slowly, tears rolled down the cheeks of your companion, who had suddenly gone silent. Your hands were lost in his hair, cradling Heizou against you, feeling his tears stain your clothes. You waited patiently for him to calm down before kneeling down in front of him, wrapping your arms around his neck, your forehead resting against his as a gentle smile stretched your lips. Heizou closed his eyes, resting the palms of his hands on your cheeks, his thumbs lovingly caressing your skin. He breathed in your scent slowly, enjoying it more and more each day.

The two of you remained like this for a long moment, enjoying the tender silence that surrounded you. Images of your future life flashed through your minds. Heizou carrying your child in his arms, his gaze tenderly on him until that tenderness was directed at you...

Heizou was nothing but sweetness and tenderness to you. Even before carrying his child, this man never raised his voice at you or refused to take you in his arms. He loved to cuddle you, take care of you and listen to you. Sometimes, he would take you on his lap and listen to you affectionately talk about your future child, imagining your future life with him. You could sometimes see a dreamy smile stretch your companion's lips, as he imagined, just like you, this wonderful life.

Kazuha was a close friend of yours, so he was one of the first to be informed of your pregnancy. What a surprise when he knocked on your door, a gentle smile on his lips, holding your letter in his bandaged hand. "I've asked Beidou to make a little detour to come and see you. Congratulations, both of you." The two men weren't very tactile compared to you, who didn't hesitate to hug him in thanks. "Hehe, expect the title of Uncle Kazuha! What do you think Heizou? Sounds pretty good, doesn't it?"; "Pretty good indeed." Heizou replied, a warm smile on his lips. To tell the truth, Kazuha didn't mind and, in a way, was happy to know that a family would now be waiting for him back in Inazuma.

Your companion's job was a constant source of anxiety for you. The midwife had gently admonished you for this, reminding you that stress during pregnancy could be bad for you and the child. Heizou, who accompanied you that day, bowed respectfully to her, promising to do all he could to calm your anxieties. Obviously, you were feeling terrible as you left the surgery, crying your eyes out in your companion's arms. Heizou comforted you tenderly, murmuring words filled with love. After this episode, he promised you he wouldn't take any more potentially dangerous commissions for the rest of your pregnancy…

For a few weeks, you'd been practicing cooking for your future baby. Heizou was sort of your test subject, trying to create colorful and cute bento. He enjoyed it every time, looking forward to seeing what you had prepared for him. He loved the little octopuses you made with the sausages, or the animal-shaped onigiri. His favorite was surely the pink onigiri that strongly resembled a fox. He was sure you'd tried to imitate Lady Yae Miko in her yokai form.

Heizou was sitting comfortably on your bed, one hand tenderly caressing your scalp while your head rested on his thigh. You could feel his other hand warmly covering your six-month-old belly, occasionally enjoying the little kicks his child gave through you. Heizou's fingers had always had this magical effect on you, weighing down your eyelids as sleep slowly invaded. Heizou was happy to have you in his arms, confident and at peace, pampering and cherishing you. Your breathing was a soothing sound to his ears and the movements of his child against his hand, an affectionate warmth he loved to feel.

"Heizou, promise me you'll stay with me through the birth! The closer the fateful date gets, the more I'm afraid of what's going to happen..." Your companion took you in his arms, gently caressing the small of your back. "I promise I'll be there, from the beginning, until the end." His lips kissed your forehead, moving down your nose until they settled on your lips. "Together... Even if I end up with a crushed hand, I'll stay by your side." You laughed, hitting his arm without force. "Everything will be okay, Y/N... I love you."

Your companion managed your first contractions with impressive composure. He quickly took you to the midwife's office, insisting on staying by your side all the way, as he had promised. Your companion kept your hand in his, occasionally wiping your forehead with a cool cloth. He encouraged you all the way, worrying about your cries of pain. He knew it could last several hours, and seeing you suffer helplessly gave him a bitter taste in his mouth. Despite the context, he promised himself to remind you later of all the curses you'd shouted against him and the gods, while your mind was clouded with pain. He would surely have laughed if he hadn't seen the tears rolling down your cheeks…

Heizou remained silent for a long time, as he gazed with tear-filled eyes at his infant, comfortably ensconced in the crook of his arms. Sitting cautiously by your side, he finally dared to explore his child's chubby face, tenderly brushing his cheeks, nose and little lips. Curious, he placed a finger in the hollow of his palm, his little hand automatically tightening around it. Heizou let his tears flow, leaning gently towards his baby to kiss the top of his head, then towards you, lovingly claiming your lips.

Heizou will be a very warm and instructive father. He wants his child to be able to learn all sorts of things for himself, encouraging his curiosity and intellect. He will never be too hard or too strict with him, preferring to explain things several times rather than let him give up. He doesn't expect his child to follow in his footsteps, but he'll still be happy when he tells him he wants to become a great detective, just like him.

NSFW bonus:

You were naked, leaning over the bathtub to check that the water temperature wasn't too hot, completely oblivious to the olive eyes staring back at you with a brilliant gleam of desire. Heizou approached you, like a cat ready to pounce on its prey. His hand rested on your belly as his bare chest pressed against your back. You shivered as his teeth nibbled your earlobe. "You really are gorgeous..." He murmured sensually as his hands worshipped every inch of your skin.

"Hei-Heizou, you really are insatiable! We've already made love today! Twice!" You growl without any real motivation, your lover's hands slowly kneading your chest. You hear him giggle against your ear, pressing his hips against your buttocks.

"Is that a problem? I can easily guess you want this as much as I do..." That man and his damned intuitions! You quickly gave up the fight as Heizou sensually lowered one of his hands between your thighs, teasing your femininity with his fingers. "You're so wet already~ Is it pregnancy that's got you all worked up?" Heizou pinched your nipple as one finger penetrated you with ease, making you squeal against him.

"Stop teasing me for a moment! I need you..." You begged, your fingers encircling Heizou's wrist. Your companion breathed an amused laugh, withdrawing his hand from you to guide you to the bathtub. He didn't need to fight your desires, because after all... He wanted the same thing you did.

Heizou kissed you with tender passion, his hands resting on your hips helping to lift you onto his member. And as he pulled away from your lips to better admire you, seeing you gasp, head slightly tilted back and lips parted under the influence of pleasure swelled his heart with pride. He was the one who put you in this state... Singing his name as he touched all your sweet spots... You were so sensitive with pregnancy, it made him dizzy. He couldn't help it, he needed to see your flushed face, hear your moans of pleasure. Heizou had always enjoyed sex with you, but pregnancy made you so needy that he lost control…

It was so good to feel your hands in his hair, your body pressed against his with only your hips swaying on his shaft. Heizou loved breathing in your perfume, tasting your skin, having your little round belly against his stomach and your voice so close to his ear... Unable to take it any longer, Heizou helped you speed up the pace of your back-and-forth, making you cry out his name. He wanted to feel you cum, to have your walls tight around him. Heizou licked hungrily at your neck, grunting against you as he savored the tension rising in your abdomen, indicating that you were nearing your climax. And when, at last, you freed yourself from that merciless knot, squeezing his member in sweet, pleasurable torture, Heizou released into you. His heartbeat echoed in his ears as his hand tenderly caressed your back, murmuring soft words against your neck, feverish kisses wetting your skin.

Heizou will help you wash, towel and dress, taking you back to your room to rest... Until the next round.

"I'd really like to start a family with you, Y/N."

That's what he'd said to you one night, as he cuddled you in bed after a session of passionate lovemaking. How could you refuse him? You felt ready, and so did he.

A month later, when you were suffering from persistent vomiting and exhaustion, Lyney decided to take you to see a doctor as a matter of urgency. How could he not be concerned, seeing you in this state for over a week? And why didn't Lynette seem more concerned about your condition? He didn't have time to ask himself these questions. Your health was all that mattered to him...

"Congratulations, you're pregnant." declared the doctor with a big smile. Lyney, sitting beside you, remained silent, his eyes wide with surprise, unlike yours, which had a smile stretching to your ears.

As you left the practice, you walked quietly through the streets of Fontaine, Lyney at your side. He hadn't said a word since you left the office... And that began to worry you. Did he regret it? "Lyney... ?" Whereas up until now, your gazes had fled each other, you put aside the fear knotting your stomach to confront him... And then, as you turned to face him, you saw them... His tears streaming down his cheeks... "Lyney! Why are you crying?! Don't... Don't you want this child?" Suddenly he took you in his arms, embracing you warmly as his face hid in the hollow of your shoulder. "Y/N... I promise I'll do anything to make sure our child has a wonderful life! I swear it! I'll take good care of him. Both of you. You'll never want for anything! *snif *. Thank you, Y/N. I love you, mon amour. I love you so much." It was your turn to cry, the pressure knotting your stomach disappearing with his words. Your arms wrapped around his neck. Yes, you were going to build your own home. A home filled with joy and happiness...

Lyney would be surprised to see you so clingy with him. To tell the truth, it was usually his job to be clingy. You didn't want him to leave your side or take his hand away from your skin... Pregnancy made you very emotional, and only Lyney's smell, his presence, his warmth comforted you... He never complained, and to tell you the truth, he loved it. Receiving free hugs or feeling you curl up around him like a koala when you slept always made him smile stupidly.

He'd obviously let Lynette and Freminet know, although both seemed to have already guessed your condition... He was happy to see his family accept your pregnancy with such joy. His sister and little brother were very close to you and, like Lyney before them, promised to do everything in their power to make their nephew's/niece's life a wonderful dream.

Lyney would bend over backwards to meet your needs. Pregnancy made you very greedy and your desires were sometimes... Wacky. Why were you suddenly craving a bowl of soba, a dish that was only served at Inazuma? No matter! He would learn to cook it to please you...

When you became pregnant, you and Lyney were just engaged. Seeing that your belly was getting rounder, Lyney thought you'd look gorgeous in a wedding dress. And he wasn't wrong... On your wedding day, when he first saw you in it, the harmonious curves of your belly making you even more sublime, he froze in front of your beauty. You were beautiful, as bright as the sun, as soft as spring, as gorgeous as the rainbow rose. He could hardly believe that this incredible being would not only be his wife, but also the mother of his child.

"Lyney!" Your husband gasped as he heard your angry voice calling his name. Your mood swings had been quite hazardous since your pregnancy, and your husband's slightest misstep sent you into a tizzy. "I told you not to leave your magic accessories lying around the apartment! I'm not asking you for heaven!" Lyney was quick to apologize, immediately putting his things away. After that, he always knew how to make amends, kissing every part of your face, massaging every sore spot on your shoulders, whispering words of love to you.

He loved to make you sit between his legs, tenderly caressing your belly to feel his child against his palms. He loved having you against him, your hands resting tenderly on his to guide him to the places where you felt the baby move. The first time he felt it, he marveled as children do at his magic tricks. He wondered if he knew that the hands on his mother's belly were those of his father, or if he recognized his voice... And you were sure he did, because every time Lyney spoke to him to tell stories, your baby seemed to react, bubbling in your belly. "Hey, mon petit ange, do you know how Daddy managed to seduce Mommy? No ? Then let me tell you a story~... It all started with a rainbow rose..."

Since you were pregnant, you had learned to knit. Lyney was silently raving behind the back of the sofa where you were sitting, humming a few nursery rhymes while you finished your work. Leaning back on the backrest, his chin resting on his arms, Lyney admired you with loving eyes, listening to the sound of your voice while you remained oblivious to his gaze, too focused on the little socks you were lovingly knitting. At that very moment, Lyney felt blessed by the gods... You were a true blessing in his life.

At times, Lyney was filled with doubt. His childhood had been miserable, he had never known the love of a parent, only the cruelty of Men. The hearth had given him and his sister a home and a family, but even so, Lyney hadn't had a childhood. Would he really be able to give his baby a happy childhood? Would he be able to preserve his innocence? He had promised himself to be strong, as a husband, but also as a father. He often discussed this with you, exposing his darkest fears. You were his light, always finding the right words to illuminate his darkest thoughts.

You were nearing the end of your pregnancy, and the contractions were becoming more and more present. Lyney, tormented by your suffering, stayed by your side, keeping you upright and helping you breathe deeply to ease the pain. As soon as the contractions subsided, Lyney took the time to help you sit up, then took care of your belongings. You were close to delivery and it was out of the question for you to take care of anything while he was around. The midwife was already aware of your close contractions thanks to Lynette, and Freminet kept an eye on you, occasionally refreshing your sweaty forehead. As soon as he was ready, Lyney called a carriage to take you quickly to the Fontaine maternity hospital. It had, quite literally, become a family affair...

Although the birth lasted only four short hours, Lyney was heartbroken to hear your cries of pain. The pain on your face made him lose his mind, and even though your hand was crushing his, he paid it no mind - after all, his pain was nothing compared to yours. All he wanted to do was encourage you and pray for the best... He was scared... Although Fontaine's technology ensured that pregnant women were well cared for, tragedies could still happen. Finally, when he heard the baby's first cries echoing through the room, he allowed himself to breathe. Crying his eyes out, he kissed your forehead several times, hoping to convey all the love he felt for you. "Bravo mon amour, you did it. You've done it. I'm proud of you..."

The first time Lyney saw his baby in your arms, his eyes would fill with tears, bellowing how beautiful he was and how much he looked like you... Almost hesitating to take his baby in his arms, Lyney trembled as he became aware of the reality of this being so small, so fragile... His child. Stars shone in Lyney's amethyst eyes as a happy smile stretched his lips. Gently, he placed a kiss on his baby's forehead, promising that he would always be by his side and do everything in his power to protect him.

Lyney will be an exceptional father. He will look after his child with care and tenderness, using his magic tricks to make his child's eyes shine with joy. As he promised, Lyney will do everything to make your life beautiful. He was a loving, caring, funny and magical father and husband...

Bonus NSFW:

You heard the sound of a door closing, indicating that Lyney had just returned from his magic show at the opera. Abandoning everything you were doing, you rushed to the entrance to find him... No one. The living room perhaps? You quickly made your way there, finding your companion slumped in the armchair, admiring with a gentle smile the stuffed animal he held over his face. You had knitted it for your baby, modeling it on the amethyst-eyed cat he camouflaged in his top hat... Gently, you approached Lyney, gazing at his beautiful, moonlit features. When he finally noticed you, his face lit up as he lovingly whispered your name. His hand reached out to you, inviting you to sit on his lap. Your heart palpitated, happy to accept his attention. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen him all day, or maybe pregnancy and its hormones were making you feel unbearably lonely. Whatever the case, this sense of urgency led you to him at a run, your fingers curling tenderly around his.

"I've missed you, mon amour." Lyney helped you settle astride him, wrapping his arms around your waist. The warmth he radiated as he pulled you firmly back against his chest made you want more....

"I missed you too..." You whispered back to him, eager for his attention, wanting more than just a hug. You felt insatiable, on the brink. It had been weeks since you'd been thrilled by him, though the look in his eyes made it clear he wanted to claim you... Was it your belly that was stopping him? Had he built a wall between you and himself to prevent him from giving in to his deep-seated desires? Yet when he saw the need in your eyes, Lyney languorously moved one of his hands up to your hair, tracing a slow line down your back to your neck before following the path of your jaw. Once he reached your hair, he gently grabbed a tuft, bringing your face close to his, your lips brushing lightly against his. Aaaah~ You could already feel him hard against your groin…

"Y/N, if you look at me with those eyes.... I don't know if I could hold it in... But I don't know if it's wise for me to make love to you in your state, ma chérie... Tell me to stop if you don't want it to get out of hand..."

Grabbing his shirt, you closed the distance between you and his lips, kissing him with need, your hips pressing a little harder against his erection. You needed him as much as he needed you... Now!

"I asked the midwife about it... She said it was safe..." You murmur against his lips before diving back into your kiss. That man was so weak under you...

Lyney took the time to prepare you with his fingers, encouraging your hips that moved sensuously to the rhythm of his hand working you languorously. Your companion always went slowly with his foreplay, starting first with teasing caresses on your clitoris before inserting a finger then two between your walls. His thumb, which was not devoid of agility, massaged your swollen nerve, almost making you moan loudly into his neck. Lyney was never silent during your intercourse, even when he wasn't yet sheathed inside you, he felt a torturous pleasure just by hearing the sounds you produced under his ministrations... Your belly had taken on a few curves with the pregnancy, and Lyney took a malicious pleasure in caressing it with his free hand, whispering words of love to you.

"Y/N~ Seigneur... I love you, ma chérie. I love you both... When I think that you- Hm! - carrying my child... It drives me crazy! I don't know why- Ahh~ - it puts me in such a state!" His hips crushed your heart as he withdrew his fingers to unbutton his pants, freeing his painfully hard, engorged member. "If you weren't already pregnant, I'd make sure you were tonight!"

"Ly-Lyney!" You cried out in pleasure as he began to penetrate you inch by inch, making you tremble on top of him. It felt so good it made you dizzy.... Lyney clung to you, rocking your hips with his hands to help him reach the bottom. You were so tight around him that he was sometimes forced to stop to help you relax.

"Relax mon amour... I don't want to hurt you... Ah! You're tight!" When he finally reached the bottom, Lyney stroked your back limply, his face buried in the hollow of your neck. You were both panting, drenched in sweat and trembling. The clothes still on you were becoming suffocating and you had to pull away from him to get rid of your top and bra. As you did so, your eyes never left Lyney's, who mimicked your actions, throwing his own clothes away before pulling your face towards him. His tongue forced your lips open, tangling with need around yours. It was a sloppy kiss, fueled by the desire you had for each other. This simple fact made your lover far more needy, his member trembling inside you. No longer having the patience to wait, you slowly lifted your hips, leaving only the tip of his sex inside you, before moving back down to the guard... It was a languorous dance, where your breaths served as music. 

Lyney would move slowly, his member touching the deepest, most sensitive parts of your femininity. He'd manage to make you see the stars with so little effort, sometimes changing your position to sit in reverse cowgirl or simply tipping you gently over onto the living room table, legs braced on his shoulders as he sensually pounded you. Your pleas drove him mad, always asking for more... And by the seven, he loved it.

After your escapades, Lyney would make a point of carrying you to bed, cleaning you thoroughly with a warm towel and kisses lost on your skin. You quickly fell asleep under his gentle caresses, giving him the opportunity to whisper words of affection to your belly. His hands tenderly cradled your belly as he rested his head on it, feeling the slight movements of his little one.

#genshin impact smut #genshin #genshin impact #lyney #lyney fluff #lyney x reader #lyney smut #itto #itto fluff #itto x reader #itto smut #heizou #heizou fluff #heizou x reader #heizou smut #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader

[miinatozakiii]

vixen

hirai momo x fem!reader ; pining, fluff, angst, smut

wc: 14.7k

synopsis: when your boyfriend takes you to meet his family the last thing you had expected was to be eyed up and down by his step-sister – and honestly, you’re checking her out too.

warnings: smut!! ; fingering ; oral ; making out against the door, on the couch, in the elevator ; some soft sex ; reader has a *gags* bf ; momo is readers boyfriends’ very hot step sister ; not too happy with the pacing ; pining pining and pining ; brief implied homophobia ; anything else I didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: i’ve never had a bf ever in my life or even talked to a man romantically so sorry if the whole having a bf part is really bad (lesbian since birth basically)

literally nothing could have ever prepared you for this moment. nothing.

the woman standing right there in front of you, a foot away looking down at you from the door; she’s gorgeous, she’s fucking hot. 

you’re meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time after dating for three months, yeah you were nervous about this whole meeting, picking out appropriate clothes for dinner with his parents and sibling. it was normal to feel this way, however, you’re much more nervous as the woman in front of you scans you down. 

those cheekbones could have been carved by aphrodite herself, sharp and perfect. her eyes, a dark brown, send a shiver down your spine. her lips are a tempting shade of pink, parting just a bit the more she takes in your presence. she gives you a curious look, you can't help but avert your eyes and your gaze inevitably travels, trailing down her crop top, lingering on the tantalizing glimpse of abs peeking out–

“and you are?” she clears the air, looking you up and down with the same hint of interest.

clearing your throat, you respond, “oh, hi. i’m um, thomas’s girlfriend…” 

the word girlfriend rolls off your tongue weirdly in the presence of whoever she is. you’re indicating that you’re taken, taken by… thomas.

“ahhh,” she says so casually, it still makes your breath hitch right then and there, the tremble of her voice vibrating in the air and reaching your ears like a cold brush of wind. then she smirks, and your knees go weak. “you’re y/n? i didn’t know he managed to get with someone so–” she eyes you up and down, smiling wider now. “--striking.”

you don’t know what to say, don’t know how to react because jesus fucking christ the woman of the century has just complimented you. you’ve just met her and weirdly enough she has you like putty.

“momo?” you hear a deep voice shout from inside the house. 

the familiar face of your boyfriend appears seconds later, he smiles at you, pulling you in by the waist - you almost trip. and then he kisses you on the lips, deeply. the fact that the woman from before is witnessing this makes you cringe internally, so you pull away for a bit, stopping his advances with a hand on his chest.

“hey, babe, not um, now.” you whisper, earning a strange look.  

“oh, okay.” he says dissapointedly. you turn to the side, looking at the woman again. your boyfriend raises his brows in disinterest. “oh, her? she’s my stepsister.”

the stepsister (the prettiest woman you’ve laid eyes on) looks at you again. her eyes go from your eyes to your lips, down your body and back up to your eyes. her brows raise up in interest, amusement – something along the lines of that – before she introduces herself.

“momo.” it’s such a simple name, but it fits her image. you’d love to know this momo more. “it’s nice to meet you, y/n.”

“yeah, likewise.”

she smiles at you, almost like she knows she has you under a spell.

“thomas been treating you well?”

“oh, yeah.” you look over to your boyfriend, he’s rolling his eyes at momo. “he’s great.”

momo snickers, “uh huh, sure. i bet.”

“oh stop that.” thomas says, “you’re being annoying.” he puts his arm around your waist again before tilting his head to the side and winking at you. “let’s go to my room.” 

you nod and he leads you down up the stairs, still, you manage to catch another glimpse of momo before you head up. she looks at you with narrowed eyes, complimented by a grin that shows a bit of her teeth. 

your clench your jaw before redirecting your attention.

–

the fact that you’re thinking about your boyfriend's step sister more than him the whole time he’s entertaining you in his room is a little concerning.

even when he shows you his stupid trophies and pictures of his lacrosse team, you can’t shake momo off your mind.

momo, momo who’s probably the prettiest person you’ve seen. she looks nothing like thomas, clearly not because if you’re being honest, his visuals don’t have a chance against hers. it’s terrible though, you shouldn’t be thinking this, you can’t.

but even when your boyfriend is kissing you suddenly, sliding his hands up your torso and shifting his lips to your jaw, you still think of her. 

–

thomas sits you down at the dinner table, squeezing your hand as you situate yourselves.

thomas’s dad sits in front of him and his stepmom – you assume, she has similar features as momo – sits on the same end of the table. 

in front of you is momo, of course.

if you were to lift your head up, even shift your look up, you’d meet her features. 

as she sits at the dinner table, engrossed in her phone as she waits for the food to cool down. your boyfriend's parents initiate the conversation, delving into inquiries about your life, your background, your family, etc – basically throwing around questions you’d expected. they come across as warm and inviting, particularly momo's mom, whose voice is sweet and genuine – contrast to thomas's dad's straightforward and blunt tone.

“so, what are you majoring in?” momo’s mom asks.

“public health, i also used to minor in art… but it didn’t really fit.” you answer. 

she raises her brows, looking at momo now. “did you hear that honey? she used to do art. my daughter does something in that field, what was it?”

momo looks up and into your eyes, making you shrink in your seat.

“architecture and graphic design.” she says, tilting her head. “what classes did you take when you minored?”

“oh, um, intro to art history and the basics, you know… um…” you start to trail off, watching as the woman in front grins wider.

“that’s cool” she says simply. she thinks it’s cool, this is great.

thomas speaks up, chicken and rice still half eaten in his mouth, “yeah, art is cool but it’s not gonna get you paid.” his tone is judgemental, making you frown. “momo spends all her tuition on classes that teach you how to draw a stick figure on a laptop and make buildings with popsicle sticks.”

momo grimaces. “oh shut up, at least everyone that takes art isn’t an egotistical snob.” 

her mom butts in, “hey, let’s not fight at the dinner table in front of our guest.”

thomas puts his hands up in defense. “right, sorry for reminding you that i have a secure job and career coming my way. my bad little sis.” he grins, raising his brows. “y/n has a good path too, not as good as business, sorry babe, but still, good money – at least after you go to medical school or whatever.”

“hey, thomas…” you respond, voice small. he’s unbelievably obnoxious right now. “i think… art is cool momo.”

momo looks at you again after your words of reassurance, smiling. you could be delusional, maybe just a little, but you swear there’s a little flush on your cheeks. you might just be delusional, though.

as dinner progresses, you make a point to compliment thomas's dad on his delicious chicken recipe, eliciting a bright smile from him, probably the first of the evening. momo's mom shares more details about her, capturing your attention more than any information that’s dropped about thomas. you like how momo get’s a little more timid when anecdotes are dropped, you don’t pay attention to any shared of thomas other than the time he got hit by a seagull when he was four. that made you laugh, it made everyone laugh.

the night comes to an end with thomas’s arm around your shoulder, the feeling of it heavy and a little overwhelming, but he’s your boyfriend and you’re in front of his family out for display, so you decide to ignore the weird feeling in your heart – especially the discomfort when momo manages to meet the scene.

thomas is later sent to do the dishes, giving you more time to converse with his parents one on one. they seem to genuinely enjoy your company. his dad's smiles become more frequent, and his stepmom expresses her fondness for you, commenting on how cute and wonderful you are.

you spot momo in the corner of your eye wiping the table down, her tricep flexing when her arm moves forward, the small curve of her bicep prominent when she brings her arm back. you decide – after seeing this sight – that you want to talk to her, alone.

you walk towards her, standing just by the side of the table. feeling the new presence creep in, momo turns to her left, catching you in her vision.

the sight of you there, clad in a loose sweater and shorts, makes her smile a little.

“hi.” you greet, offering a small smile back.

“hey.”

“do you need help with that?” you ask her, “i feel bad just letting you two do the work.”

“i’m almost done.” momo shrugs, then begins to wipe again. “don’t worry about it, you’re our guest y/n.”

you frown slightly, feeling helpless as you stand there, watching momo wipe down the table silently.

“by the way,” she starts, making you perk your head up. “why do you like my brother? how did you two even meet?”

“oh,” you shrink when momo’s eyes meet yours. “my friend introduced me to him when we went out to eat. he made me laugh a lot and, i guess i thought he was cute–”

but wow, if i knew you were even cuter? i don’t know what i’d do.

“--and he’s funny. we went on a few dates later on and now, now i’m here.”

momo hums, looking at you with narrowed eyes now. “well, i’m glad he makes you happy. you guys are cute.”

you respond with a “thanks.” before momo turns to finish off the last side of the table, but before she can do that, you invade her personal space a little. she’s surprised when you’re leaning in, lips near her ear and muttering, “i’m sorry for how he acted earlier, i thought it was really rude, i’ll talk to him about that. i think architecture and graphic design are really cool, my friend chaeyoung is an art major actually.”

when you pull away, faces a hand width apart, the two of you find yourselves staring at each other for a bit. momo chuckles, her smile even wider now.

“wow, you’re really cute y/n. no wonder my brother pursued you.” her words ring in your ear as if you’d been thrown against some giant bell. you find yourself blushing and look away. momo begins again, “it’s fine though. he’s my brother, he’s always like that – it’s how siblings are.”

“right, sorry i just, i thought it was rude.” 

“he’s like that.” momo shrugs, “i guess he’s nicer to you than he is with me.”

“oh, maybe.”

she places her hand on your shoulder, her very nice-looking hand with nude colored polish and visible veins running on the top of it. you almost shudder, the contact makes you stiffen up a bit.

“don’t overthink it.” momo suggests, “he’s just a guy. he’s like that, don’t worry, seriously. i’m not going to cry myself to sleep because some 5’7 guy made fun of my major.” 

you giggle at her joke and find yourself being pulled into someone seconds later – to your dismay.

“alright, that’s enough of bothering my girlfriend.” he teases, kissing your forehead. “let me drive you home babe, that okay?”

“yeah of course, let me get my bag.” you kiss him on the cheek as well. 

momo begins to walk away from the scene and you feel a twinge of disappointment. you kind of hoped to have more conversation with her, but there’s always more opportunity considering the fact that you’ll probably be over more.

part of you has to remind yourself that the reason you’ll be over is to hangout with your boyfriend – not to learn more about momo.

–

you’ve lived alone for a few semesters, the first two being the year you shared a dorm with yeri. you were sent on a scholarship, almost a full ride, so your parents decided to be generous since you pretty much lived out their expectations.

having your own place also meant having a whole living place to do whatever you want. you had a single bedroom apartment to yourself, no bathroom to share, no roommate to bicker with over stupid little things like dishes. sure, it got pretty lonely without your best friend, but she visited often anyway. now that you have your own place, the world is basically your oyster. you missed yeri a good amount of the time – at least she didn’t have to have that fear of walking in on you and thomas getting a little… intimate. 

thomas hovers over you, his grunts muffled into your neck as he desperately thrusts into you. it’s not the worst feeling – his dick inside – but it’s definitely worse than the foreplay, which says a lot.

now that you and thomas have more time and space to get hot and heavy, he never takes it for granted, and you’re never against it, wanting your boyfriend to feel good.

and when he cums – not really minding that you didn’t do the same – he kisses you on the lips sloppily, muttering a few curses against your lips while you send your hands down his back, falsely scratching at the muscles he’s worked for as if you’d felt the same sensation as him.

(you like him a lot, really, enough to the point where you’ll fake pleasure.)

“fuck, baby,” he sighs as he flops down next to you, catching his breath. “that was so,” he kisses the corner of your lips, “amazing.”

maybe for you.

“mhm,” you hum, he smiles at you, and it’s kind of cute, so is the ruffled hair. thomas can be cute sometimes.

the sound of buzzing fills the now quiet room. thomas looks over to his left, reaching for his phone, then tenses his jaw a bit. you quirk a brow, turning over to place your arm over him and before you can even ask – he sits up.

“baby.” he turns, looking down at you with an apologetic expression. “i’m sorry, i have this thing to go to.”

“now?” you prop yourself up on one arm, your palm holding your cheek as you question, “what thing?”

“business, you know.” and you for one, do not know. what business does he have at three – almost four – in the afternoon? he runs a hand through his hair before kissing you on the forehead, whispering a, “i’m sorry, i’ll text you later, okay baby?”

“um, okay.” you mumble, looking at him confusedly as he finds his boxers, slipping them on before checking his phone again.

“seriously, i’ll text you.”

“okay thomas, have fun.”

you lie there, your eyes half-closed, listening to the rustling of fabric as he retrieves his jeans and t-shirt. just before he leaves, you hear him mumble a "love you," and then the door shuts, leaving you alone, naked in your own disheveled sheets.

turning over, just enough to let the afternoon light seep through the blinds and into your eyes, you pull the blanket up and over you, engulfing your whole body. 

your phone makes a loud ding from the bedside table, prompting you to open your eyes a little so you can check whatever the notification is. you lazily scoot your head over to peek at the screen, reading the words on the screen–

your eyes widen at the “cafe pop up at the park!!! spring flavors!!!” reminder, instantly giving you a burst of energy despite the activity from before.

then it hits you; you haven’t done shit today, nothing at all. waking up with thomas was one thing, but not enough(clearly), and then that movie you can’t even remember the plot of since thomas was too busy eyeing you, feeling you up, rubbing your thigh and fuck, you really wanted to finish that movie. some stupid rom-com that you were invested in, thomas seemed to be interested in something else.

you force yourself up and the blanket falls down to your stomach, your tits out on display now and you can see a faint hickey on the left side of your chest in the mirror across from you. you comb your fingers through your hair, fixing it up before heading to your bathroom.

this is better than being a bum for the rest of the day anyway.

–

the ten minute walk to the infamous park – adorned with beautiful cherry blossoms, blooming tulips, and public spaces to gather and catch up – makes you forget about everything that had happened before.

there are various friend groups around, each holding a cup of coffee with the words “kim’s kaffeine,” belonging to the new cafe that opened months ago, the same cafe hosting a little pop-up to promote their new blend.

once you reach the cafe, there’s already a line – maybe seven or eight people – unfortunately. 

still, you decide that it could be worst, considering it’s a pop up and at the newest cafe. recently you had seen a promotion video of the place on instagram, so it’s not surprising that there’d be a wait that would take more than ten minutes. 

after scrolling through texts in he groupchat with your friendgroup, looking at their various reels sent and stupid debates on where to hangout next; you look up and finally it’s your time to order. you were here for one thing, that popular latte they’ve been advertising and of course that’s what you had ordered. 

it takes about five minutes for the barista to finish up your drink, and when she’s done, she calls out your name with enthusiasm and smiles at you once you walk over, quickly rushing a “thank you!” before tending to the next order. 

you swirl the coffee around and take a sip, relishing the taste and considering coming over more often. usually you’d be underwhelmed by foods or drinks that had gained so much attention, but this particular beverage really met your standards. 

without thinking, you turn around swiftly and manage to run into a woman. you hear her gasp as soon as you two clash and feel the iced coffee from your drink seep into your clothing.

you look down to see a damp, rosy region on your t-shirt and a few drops on your white shoes.

“oh my god im so sorry–” her voice is laced with panic, and then she looks up, looking horrified when she processes just who she’s run into. “y/n?”

mouth agape and eyes widening, you pause in place as you stare at the woman: momo.

she’s an inch taller, eyes angled downwards in the slightest to meet yours apologetically. she reaches for the pocket inside her blazer, pulling out a napkin before handing it to you. 

“momo?” her name rolls off your tongue almost like a question, but also as if you were happy to see her despite the circumstances.

(you are, in fact, happy to see her despite your t-shirt being stained with half your cherry blossom latte.)

“y/n, sorry, i was rushing and i didn’t see you.” her voice is bashful, eyes tearing away from yours as she takes off her blazer, which reveals a black tank top underneath. she hands you the blazer, insisting, “here, take it – for the trouble of course. i’ll get you another drink.”

shaking your head and waving your hand at her, you flash a smile and quickly respond, “no, no it’s fine. it was an accident, no need to–”

“no, please, let me.” momo butts in, “i know the owners, i mean, i was the one who designed the posters and menu after all. i also know the barista really well, she’ll give them for free.”

you can’t really argue with her after that, so you reluctantly nod. “right, okay.”

she puts her hand on your shoulder, looking relieved. your eyes meet her hand, the hand on your shoulder. your shoulder. her hand. on you. 

“i’m sorry again, here–” momo puts the sleeves of the blazer on either shoulder before making a little knot, which covers the stain solidly. “this should do it.”

she grins at you, looking proud of her work (she’s done the bare minimum, but somehow cutely) and you can’t help but grin back after seeing her like that. the glasses she has on make her seem a little dorky, which is honestly adorable to you, making your smile grow even wider – a toothy one. 

warmth spreads across your cheeks, and you even feel your ears grow a little warm too. “thanks momo.”

-

momo was right; not only did you get your drink, but it got upgraded from a small to large, with an extra shot of espresso, and it was all free.

she interacted with the barista freely, joking around and even getting teased. the barista had sent you a cheeky look – one which you ignored – when she realized that momo was ordering for you as well. 

“one large iced cherry blossom latte! one hot, large mocha!” the barista had shouted soon after. once you and momo had received the drinks, the barista smiled at you widely, eyes moving back and forth between the two of you with a little smirk. “you two enjoy the rest of the evening.”

“thank’s dahyun, see you soon.”

“yeah yeah, thanks for leeching off my business.” the barista jokes, rolling her eyes at momo. “and have a good one, momo’s friend.” 

caught off guard, you laugh, “thank you, you too!” before momo reaches for your tricep and lures you away from cafe. you turn around to see the barista – dahyun you assume was her name – waving, adding a little wink to the mix.

you and momo find yourself walking over to a bench, and once you sit down she immediately apologizes.

“i’m so sorry again, i’m so dumb.” she pinches the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “so sorry.”

“don’t say that, trust me it happens to a lot of people.” you assure, giving her a smile. you take a sip of your latte, smiling even wider as you sit next to her. “thank you for the drink – and the size upgrade. your friend is very sweet.”

“it’s no problem, i mean even if it weren’t for free i’d pay for it. you’re thomas’s girlfriend after all.” 

you turn away from her, snickering before you look down at the drink in your hand. “is that all you see me as?”

“what?”

“your brother’s girlfriend?”

“no, not at all.” momo pauses, turning to face you instead of the little boy playing with his dog across the park. “do you see me as just his sister?”

“not right now, no.”

“not now?”

your faces meet each other now after you turn, smug smirks that mirror each other. momo laughs and all you can do is laugh too.  

“i mean, last time i just saw you as thomas’s really pretty sister. now all i see is momo, the person who spilled coffee all over me.”

she pushes your shoulder playfully, rolling her eyes to hide how flustered she is after hearing you call her “really pretty.”

“oh stop that.” momo sighs, “i’m sorry, again.”

“apologize again and i’ll spill coffee on you.” you warn teasingly, making momo laugh again. 

silence falls over for a short moment as the two of you people-watch. momo sips on her mocha, and you catch her in your peripheral, waiting for her to continue the conversation or say something else.

she’s interesting, you note, with the way you’ve already warmed up to her. she’s a stark contrast from her brother; talking to her is definitely less stressful. you can speak your mind and joke freely. 

momo doesn’t look at you when she suddenly asks, “are you doing anything? or did you only drop by to get coffee and go back?”

“oh, no not at all. i’m pretty much free, thomas had something to do so…” you force a smile, pursing your lips together a bit. “why do you ask?”

“i came here to study for a project actually. do you want to accompany me?” 

you grin at her, crossing one leg over the other before you respond, “of course,” because what else do you have to do? and besides, momo’s company would be much better than walking around the park alone.

“great.” momo says, then stands, grabbing your wrist and urging you up with her.

–

–

she leads you down the park, a little deeper where there’s less families and more students trying to study in an area that’s full of sunlight.

the two of you walk beside each other and halfway through the walk momo pulls out a small notepad, then fishes for a pen in her bag. you observe carefully, watching her take notes of her surroundings and sketch small designs of what looks to be some type of public architecture. momo sits you two down by a concrete bench, right in front of a singled out tree that’s surrounded by grass and the wooden trail through the park.

her tongue sticks out as she sketches, then her glasses slip down her nose and you’re quick to push them back up with your finger. momo looks at you in surprise, a small blush painted on her cheeks as she mutters a small “thank you.”

momo’s really cute, which is a little conflicting for some reason. 

you’ve been silent most of the time, not really saying anything because momo hasn’t either, and because you’re too busy watching the way her expression’s change as she thinks to herself, finding the purse of her lips and those scrunched brows oddly alluring – and that smile of yours hard to fight back.

“what are you working on by the way?” you ask, which makes her perk her head up in surprise.

“oh, it’s for a project. we’re proposing architectural designs and ideas that might be considered – like, they might actually build it.” momo explains, then scoots over so that your shoulder is touching hers, showing you the notepad. there’s a sketch of the tree and around it are sketches that you can’t really make out. shecontinues, “surrounding it are little sitting areas, maybe to protect the tree and prevent it from deteriorating, i don’t know.” she puts the pen to her bottom lip, thinking to herself again. “there’s not a lot of seating in this particular area because they don’t want to get rid of the natural aspect, but that means it’s not as versatile because people don’t want to stay in a spot thats–”

momo looks up at you, second guessing herself. 

you look away from the notepad and back at her, tilting your head in confusion. “why’d you stop?”

“sorry i just– you know, i feel like im rambling.” momo chuckles awkwardly, looking down at her notepad once again. “it’s just something for my class–”

“no, i like it, keep talking.” cutting her off, you reach out for her hand to stop her from closing the notepad. “it’s interesting, and i like your rambling so…”

your hand is on her’s, spiking both your heartbeats. momo gulps lightly, giggling her nervousness off again.

“you’re so strange y/n.” momo teases, smiling down at the pen in her hand. “anyway,”

she continues on about her ideas for eco friendly study areas, small structures and designs that are fit for the elderly and others that are fit for the younger generation. she’s really lively about it too, using her hands ask she talks, her expressions growing more animated. 

you find yourself propped up on both hands while you sit, body leaned back as you listen and watch her with stars in your eyes.

“momo.”

she hums, looking up from her notepad. “yeah?”

“are you single?”

she freezes, her cheeks starting to flush as she looks away. she starts to laugh under her breath, shaking her head before responding, “what kind of question is that?”

“just curious.” you admit. “you’re pretty and youre passionate about this and it’s really adorable. i kinda just started thinking if you were single or not because if you are, that would be unbelievable.”

your compliments are like bullets, and you just keep shooting and shooting until her knees and body grow weak. momo doesn’t know how many more shots she can take.

“well, i guess you might not believe me then.” she mirrors the way you sit, then turns her head to face you. “i’m very much single.”

“you’re kidding.”

“no.” she looks away again. “you sound so patronizing right now.”

“hey , hey, i’m not making fun of you or anything – i just think it’s weird that no one has made a move.” you say, and momo looks at you in a way that asks for more. you sit up again, slouching a bit as you rest your elbow on your knee. “you and thomas are so different you know, but you both have one common trait from what i’ve observed so far: you both are oblivious.”

“what?”

you shrug, then state simply, “just an observation.” momo opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. instead, she looks at you again, watching you smirk like you haven’t sent her brain into a swirl. “anyway, tell me more about your architecture stuff.” you tilt your head and laugh lightly. “i think your ramble is much more interesting than anything business related i’ve heard from thomas.”

“business majors…”

“business men.” you correct.

both of you laugh harmoniously, playfully shoving each other in the process and it seriously feels just right.

-

after getting her number, you discover that she even rambles through text. she shares her thoughts and feelings in a stream of consciousness that makes you laugh. her messages are filled with blurbs about things that have made her happy or pissed her off, the level of openness and expressiveness contrasts sharply with thomas. 

her candid messages and pictures, plus the willingness to share her emotions freely make you realize how much you appreciate that quality. you can't help but wish that thomas were a little more like her, it’d make him just as cute. 

a few days later, while you’re with thomas, momo gets the courage to ask you out to the park again, sending a little text that reads “coffee? won’t spill it on you this time…” and you can’t help but smile at your screen. 

thomas notices the change in expression, raising a brow in suspicion.

“and who’s got my girlfriend smiling at her phone like that?”

you shake your head and grin to yourself. “your sister, actually.”

“momo?”

“yeah, she’s nice.” 

he looks at you from the bed, watching you sit back in the office chair in your room as you reply to the text. your fingers tap against the screen, and your smile grows wider with each second. he can’t help but notice the way your eyes light up, the joy on your face undeniable as you exchange messages. his brows crease as he sits up, looking at you like you owe him an explanation.

you look back at him with a confused stare. “something wrong?”

“when did you hang out with her?” 

“oh,” your face lights up again. “i went to the park after you left for your business thing, and then she bumped into me and spilled coffee all over my shirt.” your tone reflects the scene like it’s some sort of thrilling story, even though it isn’t – at least to thomas. to you, it was a memory you had thought about a little too much. “it was really funny, she’s adorable, your sister is, haha. anyway– she got me some coffee and we just strolled around and hey, architecture is really interesting! i don’t know why you bashed her that one time at dinner.”

thomas lays back down, rolling his eyes and picks his phone back up again. you tilt your head as he responds, “she’s a loser, you know.” the features on his face contort into something not so short of resentment.

“you’re just saying that because she’s your sister.”

he sends you a weird look, nearing a glare, then adds, “not just that.”

you can’t help but giggle at him, finding the chance to poke at him and tease him. your hand meets your opened mouth as you gasp dramatically. 

“you’re jealous.”

“what? no.”

“oh you’re so jealous– that’s adorable!”

thomas loosens up as you laugh at him, immediately making your way over to the bed and pinching his cheek as he pretends to be annoyed by it. you kiss his knuckles, your lips soft on his rough skin before placing his hand on your cheek. 

“your sister won’t take me away from you, and besides, this is a good thing! i’m getting along with family.”

he sighs before bringing his arms out and pulling you closer. “yeah, whatever.”

placing your head on his chest, you let him gently rake his hand in your hair, waiting for him to fall asleep.

the signature snoring – loud and honestly, quite bothersome – fills the room, prompting you to fish for your phone blindly. it’s on the table, still there as you left it, meaning momo had been on read. the thought of her being left with the text “read” at the bottom of her own message makes you pout, so you end up with an apology, a response, and a stupid emoji in order to make up for it.

on the other end of the line, momo watches her phone light up, redirecting her attention from the book in her lap.

the contact reads “y/n,” and the mere sight makes momo smile. she picks up the phone, nearly on the edge of her bedside table, and reads your little text. a small chuckle leaves her lips as she fixes the glasses to sit on the bridge of her nose, the frames just barely reflecting your text:

[11:30pm]

y/n: 

sorry for the late response :( 

your brother is jealous that you’re using my time for him

kidding lol

anyway, coffee sounds great, i look forward to that.

tomorrow in the afternoon? let’s get lunch while we’re at it

sleep tight, momo

😛

momo grins, immediately typing up a response.

[11:33pm]

momo: 

let’s meet at kim’s and find our way out from there

i’ll see you there, 3pm sharp

you sleep well, y/n

your eyes had been closed, kind of, just not enough for you to not notice the light from your phone after momo sends her message. you’re quick to grab your phone, your tired features unlocking it and displaying her text in the small default font of your phone. you grin again, placing the phone back on the bedside. 

the thought of a little “date,” with momo doesn’t sound too bad, it urges you to fall asleep faster. little do you know, your limbs start to loosen up and your body slowly strays away from thomas’s, turning ever so slightly to the point where it faces the ceiling. 

–

sitting down at a small two seat table in front of the cafe, the sun shines down on you in fragments. the sky is adorned with clouds, they’re scattered all over, but not to the point where you might wonder whether you’ll need an umbrella or not.

it’s not even three yet, but still, you worry.

you worry a little more than you should. worry that momo may not show up, won’t give you that smile that shows her teeth, her eyes won’t slim as she does so – and who knows, you worry that it might even rain despite the forecast assuring semi-clouded skies, a faint breeze, and warm, wonderful weather.

without thinking, you fidget with your fingers before fixing the collar of your t-shirt for absolutely no reason.

“y/n! hey!” a voice calls out, heard from your left and just the sound of momo’s voice reaching your ears makes your turn in her direction.

you’re greeted by a smile as she walks over, and then brown eyes drill into you through black frames and it brings a little warmth to your cheeks. you figure it might be the warm weather, the sun shining – but momo seems to radiate much more than what had been forecasted.

“momo, hey.”

she’s wearing a gray tank top that showcases a small display of her tummy – you note that, making sure to revisit the landmark once you get the chance since it’s oddly enticing – and a light flannel over it. hair flows down to her shoulders, she scratches the dip of her collarbone and it moves a strand. for a moment, you wonder what it’d be like to be the one moving her hair out of the way, how soft the skin of hers feels like if you were to just graze your fingers across.

“hi y/n.” she fixes her bangs. “did you order anything yet? you better not have, you know my perks.”

“relax, relax.” you start to stand, chuckling. “i wouldn’t do that to you.”

“that’s what i thought.”

she tilts her head and signals for you to follow her to the line. thankfully, it’s not busy, lending the chance for you two to be those people who stand and observe the menu carefully with expressions that make you both look more considerate about your choices than you really are.

(at the end of these few seconds, you’ll both be ordering something you’ve already had, nothing out of your comfort zones.)

her barista friend isn’t working that day, but momo manages to playfully banter and immediately, the barista present laughs along with her, waving her hand and you hear a faint sentence that guarantees free drinks.

this time you order a small, iced caramel latte, while momo orders an iced white mocha instead. 

momo waits with you, standing a little close. you watch the barista intently, zoning out a bit as she steams milk and swirls the metal jug around. the woman next to you finds herself staring at you while you’re distracted, eyes tracing you, cherishing the moment to just look at you.

“i like your face.”

you’re quick to snap your head in her direction, immediately responding with an unbelievably flustered sounding “what?”

momo freezes, waving her hands in the air and trying to fight back the flames of embarrassment that threaten to have her cheeks burning. “no! no, no. that came out wrong, sorry, thinking out loud. i just– you have pretty features and… yeah. god that sounded so weird, don’t take it the wrong way.”

“i won’t, i won’t.” you chuckle, raising a brow mischievously which causes momo to gulp. “but i will be using this against you. it would be funny if both siblings were in love with me, wouldn’t it? his pretty sister drooling because of me, how adorable.”

momo rolls her eyes, shoving you with her own shoulder playfully. “oh shut up. i’m not in love with you.”

“right~ it’s okay momo,” placing a hand over your heart, then the other on her shoulder before you lower your voice and push your bottom lip out teasingly. “don’t fight it, stare at me all day if you’d like, gorgeous.”

“gosh, you’re a handful.” momo groans. “i don’t know how my brohter handles you.”

“he–” you cut yourself off, recollecting every moment shared with thomas. 

you struggle to remember when you’ve flirted so… easily. really, you aren’t much of a flirt, but with momo in front of you, looking so good, it’s just relaxing and easy to talk to her; your stupid remarks flow out of your mouth without thinking, but none of what you say isn’t true. and then you start to wonder whether this is morally wrong, flirting with your boyfriend’s stepsister, but really, it’s playful—even if you can’t help but be a little attracted to her. 

honestly, you don’t know how thomas handles you either because you’ve never been this teasing, never been so relentless and filled with stupid remarks. the worst you’ve done is tease him for being jealous and maybe call him hot once or twice. 

– manages.” you continue, looking away from her. “um, enough about him. let’s… let’s get lunch? i would kill for some cold noodles.”

momo sips on her drink, then chuckles. “whatever you want.”

and then you two end up having more than lunch together, finding yourselves in momo’s car while she drives both of you downtown. the two of you explore shops because hell, why not. everything you do with her that afternoon – and into the evening – is spontaneous. 

the minutes pass, and with each store you visit, you find yourself a little closer to momo. your shoulders brush, and your hands accidentally graze each other's skin with every few steps. every touch is like ice water trickling down your back, sending shivers. you start to step in a way that makes your knuckles brush against hers more frequently. there's a pang in your heart, and the thought of maybe linking pinkies, arms, or really anything—anything physical with momo—crosses your mind. the proximity feels electric, and the idea of a small, intentional touch becomes increasingly enticing.

momo is dragged by the wrist into some sunglasses store, following you in while giggles escape from you.

a variety of sunglasses are given to her so she can try them on for you, and each time you look at her with admiration, some sort of pink dusting your cheeks, momo can’t help but laugh and smile like a little kid.

there’s this wall, a wall of tension that’s thinner than thread and both of you are waiting for it to break down – momo’s the one to obliterate it.

she grabs a pair of sunglasses with square-ish frames and tinted, green lenses. you’re standing in the mirror, fixing some strands of hair that fall loose when you feel someone creep up behind you.

momo’s hands reach over your shoulders and one side of her face peeks out from behind you in the mirror. she places the sunglasses she’s brought on your face, fixing how it sits on your nose bridge before placing her hands on your shoulder. momo’s head is still close – even closer when she uses her right hand to tilt your head to the left, facing her completely.

her features become more apparent: the subtle curve shaping her nose, big brown eyes focused on you like a camera about to capture a moment, smooth cheeks, and parted lips revealing her oddly perfect teeth. her rosy lips hold you captive until she gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. your eyes shoot back up into hers—those honey-like eyes that leave you speechless and rooted to the spot. 

“these suit you well.” momo says softly. you wonder if your heart is beating louder than her voice.

you’re still stuck in place, faces four or five inches apart when you struggle to mutter out, “oh, thanks.” 

momo smirks like she knows what she’s done to you, moving away and taking her hand off your shoulder, to your dismay.

"you should buy them. here, hold on." she presses the edge of her palm against your face, lifting the sunglasses to hold your hair in place. the rush of heat in your cheeks intensifies, and just when you think you couldn’t feel more flustered, she gently pulls out a few strands of hair to frame your face better. “there we go, the green compliments your eyes.”

it feels like you’ve been punched in the stomach.

momo pulls away, smiling at you. all you can do is gulp.

“maybe i will.”

her eyes scan you up and down before momo fixes her flannel, then she leaves you in front of the mirror as if she hasn’t just rocked your world.

–

after your first (intentional) hangout with momo, the words “coffee?” and “are you free?” are a common text between the two of you.

from short coffee runs to various cafes after classes to walking in the park at night on a weekend, the two of you become attached quickly. 

eating with momo is your favorite thing to do, probably, and it’s really not the food that you like; the way momo stuffs down food like it’s going to grow legs and leave her only adds to your interest in her.

the thing is, momo listens. she’s aware and attentive, and as much as you don’t want to admit it, she’s not a man-baby like thomas. spending more time with her makes you smile, makes your cheeks burn, makes you feel heard and seen. you start to point out thomas’s flaws everytime you’re alone with him the more you spend time with his sister, and it throws you in for a loop.

hanging out with momo is different than hanging out with anyone, really. you’ve noticed that even when she rambles, she’s attentive to you and your reactions, always waiting for a response and reading your features with every word uttered. 

even worse, or maybe definitely  better; the mention of momo is becoming more frequent whenever you’re with your other friends. they’ve started to notice just how special she is to you. they see the way your smile and laugh come more easily when she’s around, and especially how a natural blush appears on your cheeks whenever her name comes up.

being around momo is wonderful, amazing really – like a fresh breeze that picks you up as if you were a feather.

it’s great, perfect – right until the revelation hits, the one that picks you up and throws you to the ground like some wwe wrestler. 

it can’t be, this can’t be.

you’re at thomas’s house, not with him though, instead you’re with momo.

your visits at your boyfriends house become more frequent; you’d spend three or four hours on a free day there and at least an hour would be with momo. sometimes you’d spend all those hours with her.

she sits next to you on the couch in the living room on her phone as you scroll through movies to watch. 

here’s another thing you like about momo; she’s the type of person who’ll actually watch a movie, and even better, she’s into the same media you’re into. it’s a completely new experience. she’s someone who cares.

she even puts down her phone when you start the movie, even if it’s one she’s watched before. tonight you’re watching lost in translation for the first time, momo tells you that it’s good. you trust her judgement.

with each minute that passes, the urge to scoot closer grows heavier. from your peripheral, momo doesn’t budge. she’s lounged lazily against hte couch, that impeccable profile of the side of her face trying to steal your attention away from the tv in front of you. her hand rests tantalizingly on her thigh, so close yet so far from simply making contact with you. 

and you figure you might go crazy from just sitting there and watching the movie, oddly enough, right until she turns to you, noticing how stiff you are.

“hey, you wanna sit closer?” she asks, you nod like an idiot. 

scooting over, your arms press together. she looks at you, scanning your features and you scan right back, eyes stalling at her lips – plump and soft up close – before she turns back to watch that stupid movie. 

you wonder to yourself, the ache in your heart is like a slap to the face, is this how thomas feels? is that why he’s so eager to be so touchy with you? because everything he does to you, you want to do it too, oddly enough; you really want your hands on her, to be close in any way possible, and honestly she looks really good. good isn’t even enough to describe what you see right now – what movie were you even watching before?

“something on your mind?” she’s looking at you again now, head tilted down as she looks at you through her lashes and you feel yourself shift your hips involuntarily.

“oh, just zoned out.” you assure, pursing your lips together into a forced smile.

she tilts her head and smirks so that her teeth show, earning a quick breath from your lips.

“is the movie getting boring for you? i really liked it to be honest.” 

you shake your head. “no, no, i just– um, my legs–” your legs are tapping up and down against the carpet under your feet. “does the couch have a leg rest? um, there’s just, yeah i just need–”

“it’s broken right now.” momo says, frowning. “i have an idea though.”

“and what is that?”

her grin widens, more teeth showing and you feel that rush of heat in your cheeks again – nothing foreign when near momo. 

she abruptly grabs just below your thigh right under where your knee bends, moving your leg up and over to rest on her lap. she taps your other leg – right on your thigh and you swear there’s a small noise that gets stuck in your throat – which prompts you to rest it on her lap as well. 

“sit back and relax, i can be innovative.” she jokes.

“whatever miss architect,” you laugh, shaking your head. “you gonna make a leg rest out of your lap for your next assignment?”

“oh, no. this one’s exclusive only to you, lucky girl.” she smirks at you knowingly, then rests her hand on your thigh. turning back to the tv, you’re left speechless, gulping, and tense in your spot. 

your teeth trap your bottom lip; you’re head over heels for her, it strikes you like a blow to the stomach.

the flutter in your abdomen, the burn of your cheeks, and all your admiration – it all makes sense now, it’s clear as day the more flustered you get from momo rubbing circles into your skin.

as you two continue to watch the movie, you try not to shift too much in your seat from the weird, hot sensation you feel in the moment. it’s difficult, all too difficult to ignore the concerning rate of your heartbeat or the little pulse in between your legs when momo sinks her hand higher, her skin smooth against your own as she moves it mindlessly, tantalizingly. 

you’ve found your answer, the answer as to why thomas doesn’t arouse you or leave you breathless like this. you’re not sure whether it’s a good thing or not.

your mind runs in circles, you feel your head spin, and it stops whirling once it reaches the idea of momo kissing you, hands falling to your skin and leaving you breathless. she’s still in front of you when you daydream of this, and you realize once she looks you dead in the eye, raising her brows.

–

fucked, that’s what you are. 

getting fucked? yeah, about to as well, probably.

thomas has his hands around your waist, messily fumbling with the edge of his shirt as he roughly slides his tongue into your mouth.

he’s not a good kisser, not really. his short, sweet ones are nice, the small, rare pecks to your lips are not bad. honestly, you like the quicker ones the most. but right now you can’t really breathe, he’s practically devouring your mouth, not in a good way. you can’t reciprocate the kiss with how bombarded your tongue is, the texture of it all throwing you off so much that you have to place a hand on his chest and push him away for a bit.

he raises a brow, “what?” sounding almost offended, a little annoyed too.

“just,” a sharp breathe leaves your lips, “needed to catch my breath. actually– i just, i don’t know if i can do this right now.”

thomas just stares at you for a moment, then scoffs. you watch him tense his jaw, turning away from you and disappointingly and muttering a small “okay.”

“babe, i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine.” he lies, you can hear the irritation in his voice. 

for some reason, you can’t help but feel off when he touches you or shows affection, anything intimate. you can hold his hand and throw on a smile, kiss him quickly on the cheek or anywhere else – only if it’s brief and swift – and go out with him. the thing is, he doesn’t care for that these days and it’s getting more blatant with each passing day. the only time he seems interesting and pays the slightest bit of attention is when it’s heated.

you haven’t felt anywhere near horny for at least a month with him – it’s been dying down since that first encounter with momo.

–

thomas noticed the change in your relationship with his step-sister, finding it off, but not really paying attention to the detail of it until recently. he noticed that the time you’d usually spend with him would be shared with his step-sister – and your lowered (almost nonexistent) libido was the biggest deal for him.

he finds himself pissed, confused, and sexually frustrated. not the best state for a man, not at all. of course, he doesn’t draw it down to square one – him – and instead tries to find reasons for why you’re being so difficult. everything leads to momo, it’s all started since then – everything. 

a few days later, he sits beside you on his couch in the basement. his arm is around your shoulder as you two watch the movie – a crime show he likes.

his fingers graze your shoulder, revealed by the tank top you wear. 

“baby,” 

your turn your head to answer, “hm?”

“you and momo been getting close, huh?”

giggling softly at the mere mention of your name, you nod. “yeah, she’s lovely.”

“sure.”

you punch him playfully on the chest, earning the tilt of his head. he almost looks offended.

“she is! don’t be so mean to your sister.” you emphasize their relation, because siblings are supposed to be relatively nice to one another (is what you assume, because you have none yourself). “she’s so sweet and funny.”

“she’s a leech, you know. not good to hangout with people like that.”

your body faces him more after the comment, you frown. “what?”

thomas looks back at the screen, watching the detective in the show connect different points from the cases he’s been going through. “a leech. her mom married my dad because he’s rich, and now she gets to live comfortably with that stupid, childish career plan of hers. all she does is take.”

“thomas, what the fuck?”

he rolls his eyes and looks at you again, raising his brows and shoving his face closer to you. “l-e-e-c-h. leech. just wanted you to know who you’ve been spending your time with because ever since you’ve met her you’ve been getting so distant and shit. she’s really stubborn you know, and really, i’m trying to protect you babe. not a good influence.”

scoffing, you remove his arm from your shoulder, scooting away from him and looking at the smug smirk on his face in disbelief. 

sure, you didn’t know the full details of how they became siblings, but still, that’s fucked to say about someone who’s been so sweet to you. 

“what the fuck is wrong with you.”

“it’s the truth.”

“you’re fucked thomas, you are fucked.” you reprimand, “why would you say that?”

“oh sorry, my bad!” he says sarcastically, raising his hands up in the air. “i’m sorry she’s been taking all the fucking time away from you, that bitch.”

you push yourself away from him, standing up. your expression shifts to one of frustration, brows crunched with a trembling bottom lip. he looks at you, raised brows and a shit-eating look that you want to slap off.

“okay, if you’re jealous, i understand that, really. but calling her a bitch? a leech? what the fuck is wrong with you? i know you’re siblings but that’s far.” 

he scoffs, then chuckles unbelievably. “what, you defending the person who’s stopping you from fucking me?”

you want to puke. struggling to contain yourself, your hands shake as they ball into fists, and tears prickle in your eyes.

“fuck you, thomas. fuck you,” is all you can say. he's unbelievable, absolutely terrible and it’s clear as day now, if comparing him to momo didn’t make it apparent already. he's so fixated on this one thing, his lust-driven desires – not even bothering to deny how fucked up and in the wrong he is. 

“it’s true.”

“you know what’s true?” a tear rolls down your cheek before you poke the inside of your mouth with your tongue angrily. “now that i think about it, maybe i spent so much time with momo because she liked being around me, actually took interest into my wants and needs and interests unlike you. you’re really this mad? because i don’t want to makeout with you every two seconds? because i’m – if not before – repulsed by your dick inside of me? for fucks sake thomas, you’ve made me cum like three times total. fuck you.”

he stands up, oh now he’s offended, all from the mere mention of anything sex-related. he walks up to you, looking down at you with a disgusted, angry look.

“you’re so lucky y/n. you know there’s a line of girls waiting for me and it’s a fucking privilege to be with me like this. i’ve been so goddamn patient with you and your fucking priorities. you want to insult me because you don’t feel good? yeah, sounds familiar don’t you think? so all that shit coming out from your mouth–”

your hand comes into contact with his cheek, making a loud clap in the process. 

thomas’s eyes widen, his face turned and angled at the ground. 

his cheek burns, and he presses his hand to his skin. he looks at you in disbelief, watching tears fall and fall until your staring at him with trembling features and visible regret – not from slapping him, but for putting up with him.

“we’re fucking done, fuck you thomas, fuck you.”

“you bitch –”

you scoff, turning around and running up the stairs. 

the bag you had brought is still in the living room, but the last place you want to be is in the same house as thomas – his house – so you’re rushing towards the door, opening it and slamming it close once you’re out.

tears continue to fall, you wipe away at them desperately and sniffle a bit. you can’t be crying over someone like him, you can’t. 

momo pulls up to the house in her car, only to spot you storming out with a disappointedg, bothered expression.

she stops just in front of the driveway, you spot her too. your nerves seem to settle, and surprisingly; you’re relieved just to see her from the window rolling down. immediately, your tears stop flowing down your face, your nose is less runny, and you quickly compose yourself.

“y/n?” 

“can i get in?” you stop her before she can really question you, ask why your nose is pink, why your eyes are a little red and watery, or really the evidence of a post-crying y/n. “can we just–” you speed over to her car. “get out of here.”

momo shifts the car to park immediately. “yeah, of course, where to–”

“just drive.” you say, opening the door and settling in the passengers seat. “please.”

“okay.”

momo does what you’ve practically ordered her to because one: you’re a mess. and two: she would do a lot of things for you. as soon as you’re situated in the car with your seatbelt buckled, momo shifts the stick to “drive” and presses down on the gas. 

she turns over to you swiftly, only to see you looking forward with a dazed expression. 

momo drives, well, somewhere. she takes the bigger road and finds herself turning into random neighborhoods, glancing over when she hits stop signs to see you looking out the car window. when she’s had enough, the red light at the busy intersection giving her a little time to pry, she places her hand on yours. 

your head shoots in her direction, your eyes locking onto hers. she takes in your post-crying face, noting the remnants of tears but also the effort you made to appear relatively normal again. it's a stark contrast to the vulnerable state she found you in outside her house.

before momo can ask you anything – you beat her to the punch.

“we broke up.” 

momo lets out a breath. “oh gosh, y/n, i’m so sorry–”

“don’t be, your brother is a terrible person. i’m just, sorry for myself. i can’t believe i put up with him.” the light turns green, momo steps on the gas again. “can you take me home?”

“yeah, yes. of course y/n.” she looks at you again, giving you a comforting smile. you manage to smile back. 

she shuffles her hand so that your fingers intertwine, squeezing subtly to offer comfort. she drives one-handed for the rest of the way to your apartment, her thumb rubbing against your skin absentmindedly, providing a soothing, repetitive motion that grounds you both in the moment and really, you feel much better already.

she reaches your complex, then parks in the designated lot. you lead her over to the elevator, then to your place. you left your bag at thomas’s house, but luckily, your keys were still on you.

you two are inside in no time and momo simply watches you flop onto your couch, leaning your head back into the cushions defeatedly. 

she sits down next to you without asking, and without any warning, you place your legs on her lap like you’ve done before. momo watches as you close your eyes, relaxing into the material beneath you. she gently rubs her thumbs along your thigh, comforting you with the small, soothing motion.

“he got mad at me because i didn’t want to fuck him anymore.” you speak up, opening your eyes and watching momo nod. “he’s an asshole.”

“i know.” momo agrees, “he’s terrible.”

“why didn’t you warn me?”

“y/n,” she begins, then sighs. “i’m not a homewrecker. plus, he’d whine to his dad like a man-baby.”

“fuck him.” you groan. “i can’t believe i fucked him. he’s pathetic.”

the tone of your voice slowly simmers down to something more casual, shifting from the brink of tears to general insults. momo continues to soothe you with her touch, her thumbs still rubbing gentle circles on your thigh, providing a steady source of comfort.

“do you feel better?” she asks you again.

looking at her, you’ve honestly just pushed aside the events from before. she’s here with you and that’s all that matters.

“yeah, thank you. you’re so sweet to me.”

she chuckles softly, then her expression shifts to a pout as her phone buzzes. glancing at the screen, she bites her lip nervously. curious, you scoot closer and catch a glimpse of the notifications: one from "mom" and another from "thomas."

“they’re going to be on my ass, especially my brother.” momo frowns. “i should go before thomas bothers you more, i’ll try to diffuse the flame.”

her hands leave your thigh, and disappointment washes over you, making you pout as well. she gently moves your legs off her lap and stands up, her eyes scanning the texts with a stressed look on her face.

she makes her way over to your door, it renders your heart weak. the one person you need with you is momo, especially now, you need her.

“momo, stop, wait.”

you pause her, and she turns around, her eyes meeting yours. for a moment, you both just stare at each other, eyes locked in an unspoken exchange.

she’s a step away from you, you can tell she doesn’t want to leave you alone here. she grips the phone in her hand tightly.

your eyes steal a glance at her lips before your own our on hers. 

she reciprocates immediately, her hand finding the base of your neck as you two exchange a kiss. when you pull away, she looks at you like you're insane—right before pulling you back in by the waist and closing the distance again.

the timing is awful, but so right at the same time. 

her lips are just as soft as they look, just as you had imagined. she brings her hand to your cheek as you desperately grip onto whatever she's wearing. she smells like peaches, and her lips taste like them too. you kiss her again and again, pushing her against the door. then, with a sudden move, she grabs you by the waist, turning you both around and pinning you against the door instead.

you can’t help but groan, feeling your breaths grow heavier as soon as she swipes against your bottom lip, curving her fingers to tilt your jaw up. you two exchange saliva for a minute, tongues against each other, exploring and savoring each other before momo pulls away, halting everything.

“y/n, wait.” she says breathlessly, “i– i have to, you know, go.”

“i need you here with me momo. i need you.” you move over to peck her again, holding the base of her neck.

to fight the urge to go on, she looks away from you. “you’ve just broken up with thomas, i– i can’t. and i have to resolve things, i’m sorry.”

“momo, are you serious?”

you want to cry. she can’t leave you, she’s the only thing you need right now, the one person who can ground you after everything that’s been going out. she’s the reason you went out more, started exploring new places and everything about her screams that she’s the one you should’ve been kissing and loving this whole time.

“i wish i weren’t.” she looks into your eyes. “i’m so sorry.”

–

momo doesn’t text you the rest of the night and you have no clue what to do with yourself.

you lay on the couch, unable to pick yourself up and go to your room. the ceiling is the only thing you can see and momo’s the only one on your mind. you lift up your hand for the first time in a while, bringing two fingers to gently settle on your lips, lips that momo kissed. 

god, everything about the kiss was fulfilling, it was perfect. 

the thought of staying in your apartment alone all night kills you, especially with so much pent up inside of you. you reach out for your phone, unlking it and scrolling through your contacts to find someone who can listen: yeri.

–

momo grits her teeth as soon as she steps into the house. 

her mom watches her angrily storm through the hall. “thomas is in his room.”

she rushes up the stairs, practically knocking the door open with how aggressive and angry she is in the moment. she watches thomas lay there, on his phone like nothing had happened. 

he spots momo and looks up like he’s just been pestered. “yes?”

“what the fuck happened between you and y/n?”

he yawns, then puts his phone down. 

momo bites down on her teeth, clenching her jaw. just the sight of him there makes her thoughts scream at her to punch him in the face, but momo doesn’t, because that’s something an immature, impatient man-baby would do; that’s what thomas would do.

“she dumped me because i insulted you, guess she can’t handle truth.” he laughs like it’s a joke. “fucking bitch slapped my–”

“don’t call her a bitch.”

“oh? what’s this? defending the bitch now?”

momo moves her lower jaw in an attempt to suppress her anger. “fuck you, seriously. you’re an ass you know?”

“you’re an even bigger one for being the reason y/n wouldn’t fuck.”

she can’t believe what she’s hearing. you were right, you were so right. all he is is a lust-driven prick who’s the reason some of your hangouts with her have been you complaining about him. he’s never really loved you, not at all. 

momo wonders how someone who’s dad had been able to treat her mother right, could love her wonderfully and provide so well, could have a son like this. the sight of thomas after hearing what he’s said – especially about you, calling you a bitch and all – makes her sick to the stomach. it’s difficult to hold back from punching him in the face and kicking him where he’d suffer the most.

he perks his head up. “oh, forgot to mention: picking up your brothers ex-girlfriend after they’ve broken up isn’t the best look.”

“i don’t care what you tell your fucking dad, he actually has morals and a heart. you’re a snob.”

“you’re a desperate little bitch, i knew something was going on between you as soon as she had hung out with you the first time. y/n is a fucking homosexual because of you.”

“or maybe it’s because your tiny ass dick can’t satisfy her, or the fact that you’ve never treated her well, you selfish fucking– ugh.” momo stops right there because it’s no use wasting all her anger on thomas, he’s just a guy after all.

“well, you’re a fucking whore. if anything happens with you two after, i wouldn’t be surprised. all you are is desperate and jealous, getting with her would prove that.”

she watches him poke his tongue at his cheek, then leaves the room, annoyed and frustrated.

momo considers texting or leaving a call, but decides to drop it, afraid of saying something she shouldn’t say or making things worse due to her emotional state. 

–

the two of you see each other two days later because momo’s conflicted, wanting you to take time for yourself, and you are simply someone who’s longing for a person you’ve recently realized you’re in love with.

the whole time away from her is grueling even though she had texted you.

when both of you meet for lunch you fight the urge to hug and kiss her. 

she looks wonderful walking into the small sit-down restaurant, a tank top – your weakness when it’s on momo – and sweats on. she’s stunning, especially those lips of hers that you can’t stop staring at because you’ve had the privilege and lucky chance to kiss them.

momo on the other hand fights back the urge to kiss you too, because after her anger had fizzled out, that had been the only thing on her mind prior to seeing you at the table for two.

“hi.” momo greets.

you force a smile. “hey.”

she sits down in front of you, then looks at the menu in front of her. “is everything okay?”

“it’s alright.” you say, only alright because one: your ex boyfriend is a fucking bitch and two: momo hasn’t been there when you needed

sure, it was relatively very strange to move on so quickly from your whole thomas situation, but it’s justified because hell, you’ve basically been dating momo simultaneously without realizing you had been in love. 

and now that you’re aware, so aware that it keeps you up at night, you’re hoping for something to happen.

“have you talked to thomas?”

“i’d rather not. he’s not worth my time.”

she looks up at you again through her eyelashes. “you’re right.”

“momo,” she flips through the menu and you focus on each movement. “i really want to kiss you again.”

“y/n, you just broke up with your boyfriend.”

“if this is because of me dumping thomas then throw it out the window.” you respond sternly, almost mad and it catches momo off guard. she looks at you with surprise, stopping her little act of trying to act uninterested. 

she can’t give in; it would only prove thomas right. yet, what you feel is genuine, and what momo feels isn’t born of desperation. the time she’s spent with you has nurtured her admiration and her growing affection for you. momo cares deeply about you, and her feelings are sincere, not driven by a sense of urgency or lust like your ex-boyfriend. she can’t recall the last time she enjoyed someone’s company so much or wanted to be with them constantly. from the start, she sensed something different about you—how you made her ponder at night, made her blush, made her fall head over heels for you.

you continue, “because kissing you was the best thing to happen to be, even after everything that happened – and that says a lot. momo, i’ve liked you for probably so long and i’m a dumbass for realizing it just now, so please, please just consider it.”

“y/n, i’ve thought about it ever since.” her response earns the raise of your brows. “i’ve dreamed about doing that since our first encounter, and i wish it were in a better situation, so let’s just… take it slow from here.”

taking it slow is a much better option than anything that involves cutting her off, so you smile and nod.

–

the rest of the day is spent with her, both your uncovered feelings allowing you to fully bask in each others presence without anymore concealing. it feels right, talking to momo about everything you’ve felt recently and simply being around her.

and then you both find yourselves glancing too long at each others lips but not commenting on it, despite the easy going time spent together, there’s a thick tension hanging in the air.

the tension is even worse when momo drives you back to your apartment complex, and even heavier when you two step into the elevator.

momo is not a woman of her word. she wanted to be the bigger person by “taking things slow,” but she can’t fight back the urge when you’re alone together, your features drawing her in.

“oh fuck this,” momo groans, pulling you by the wrist and turning you to face her. you look more beautiful than anyone she’s ever seen, your lips are calling her name.

before you know it, momo’s planting her lips on yours and you melt right into it.

“what–” you gasp when you pull away, “happened to taking it slow.”

“fuck that, i can’t if it’s you.”

that’s how you find yourselves stumbling out of the elevator into the empty halls, eager to savor each other’s presence after the arduous forty-eight hours apart. you manage to make your way to your apartment door, fumbling with the key as momo kisses the edge of your jaw, both of you entering messily, unable to keep your hands off each other like horny teenagers in the janitor's closet in highschool.

every kiss that followed felt like cool raindrops during the burning summer day. it’s electrifying, all of it, really.

you’ve never felt this satisfied. nothing really processes other than the pounding pulse from in between your legs, and momo’s lips bruising your own as she pins you against the door after it’s closed. crazy with want, you let her do anyhitng, let her kiss you anywhere. 

she’s in control when your tongues find their way back to each other, fingers bruning as they tighten against your skin, squeezing on it just above your hip bone. she kisses like you’re going to leave her grasp any minute, holding you close and pressing herself against you.

she starts to trail down to your neck in a way that thomas has never done before. she’s not attacking your skin like a desprate, thirsty dog, but like someone who knows what they’re doing. she definitely knows what she’s doing, the way she earns all these gasps and whines proves it.

“wait,” you gasp, then she pulls away, only to watch you hurriedly taking off your top. “continue.”

she chuckles before leaving opened mouth kisses against you, simultaneously moving you two to the couch. 

her fingers render you weak, like putty in her hands while you desperately grip at her hair. she moves you over and sets you down on the couch, gazing as she towers over you.

“you’re so fucking gorgeous,” momo slides her hand down the side of your torso. “you know that?”

“stop, you’re so– fuck you.” 

momo giggles before kissing you again, then retreats from your lips. your arms are around her neck, playing with strands of her hair before she asks,

“you’re okay with this, right?”

you giggle against her lips before pecking her again. “momo, i don’t think anyone has made me this weak – espseically thomas – i’m so wet it’s almost embarassing.”

“oh yeah?” she says teasingly. 

“just  shut the fuck up and fuck me already.” you rush out. 

momo grins against your lips as she kisses you again, and then you feel her hand trail down to your sweatpants. you gasp loudly when she slips her hand inside, pressing against your panties, and you break away from her lips in surprise. 

“you are very wet.”

“thanks,” she presses harder which earns a twitch and a gasp, “s-smartass.” 

her fingers slide your panties to the side of your folds, giving her access to slide up and down with ease. you can’t help but whine lowly at the feeling, biting your lip to conceal your excitement.

she inserts two fingers in, making your head shoot back into the cushion of the couch. you curse when she thrusts in, your walls pulsiate around her, clenching. 

“fuck,” she bites her lip. “you feel so good.”

you gulp roughly. “you– shit momo, keep that going.”

you gasp audibly the more she fingers you, the repetition of her name making her smile against you as she kisses your skin. she’s blazing against you, your bodies so hot against each other despite the clothes in the way. you grip her hair, close your eyes, and shift your hips up the more she pleases you. your back arches, momo keeps you situated in place with her free hand, then slides it over to palm your clad chest.

“m-momo, fuucckk–” 

momo feels you grip her shoulder tightly and watches you throw your head back. your legs close around her when her palm hits the nub above your folds again, and then she moves her palm in a circle over your clit aggresively, earning one last cry from you before your mind goes blank.

you let your head rest back for a while more as you catch your breath. you feel momo massage your thigh as you come down from your high. momo presses more kisses on your neck, letting her hand trail up your body and reach your head, raking her fingers through your hair. 

she pecks your jaw. “how was that?”

“holy shit,” you sigh, bringing your head back up to look at her. momo’s pupils are dilated beyond oblivion, and her flushed skin prompts you to bring a hand to caress her cheek. she looks adorable, even after she’s made your legs shake. “so good.”

she laughs and it’s like angels singing from above. you might melt.

“let’s clean up together, if you’re cool with that.”

you blink. “like, shower together?”

“yeah – unless that’s too forward!” she catches herself. “sorry, maybe too forward, i just want to make sure you’re okay and–”

momo is cut of when you kiss her, and then you pull back. she feels your thumb graze her cheek. 

“it’s perfectly fine momo.”

“okay, and then maybe if you want we can get food or something,” she begins, brushing her fingers against the skin of your shoulder. she moves over to play with your hair and looks at your lips. “or if you’re too tired then we can just sleep.”  

you pull her in for another kiss, that’s all you can really answer with for now. she reciprocates, following the slower tempo of your lips. 

you part from her. “i think i just want to kiss you more for now,” then you catch yourself. “wait, i haven’t even done anything to you yet, oh my god–”

“no, no. i’m already pleased enough hearing you say my name so much.” she assures teasingly. momo presses a kiss to your nose before mumbling, “let’s go with what you want.”

“you’re so lovely.”

“thanks y/n.” 

a hand finds it’s way to just below momo’s jaw on her neck, and momo’s hand slides down to the skin on your rib.

you smile, momo smiles.

you kiss her, she kisses back.

–

a groan leaves your mouth when you wake up. you feel someone clinging onto you and look down to see a face that brings a lazy smile to your lips.

momo’s head is on your shoulder, features pointing to the base of your neck. her breath is warm against you, and so is her body, and so is your heart. 

you rake a hand through her hair and she starts to shuffle against you. 

“y/n?”

“oh, momo, sorry to wake you.”

“no, i kind of woke up earlier.”

“are you lying?”

“no, not at all.”

she lifts her head up and you meet the messy hair framing her face, puffy cheeks, and partially squitned eyes. she’s adorable, you note, just naturally so. 

your bodies are naked, flushing against each other under the sheets because momo got needy and wanted to hear you screaming her name again. of course you didn’t complain, because if anything, you wanted it too. 

momo’s attentive to everything she does, and you find out that she’s like that with what she does to you. with every motion, touch, and anything intimate, she’s making sure you’re into it, making sure you’re left gasping and whining under her. she’s aroused from you feeling good, that’s all it takes for her to be wet herself.

her eyes meet the skin above your chest. “that hickey is pretty dark.”

“and who is responsible for that?”

momo rolls her eyes. “let me give you some more.”

you’re not arguing against that.

it’s ten in the morning, both of you had just woken up and momo is slipping under the blanket. her head makes its way in between your legs and the thrill of not knowing what she’s doing under the blanket makes you blush. and then you feel a hand on your upper leg, her fingers ticklish adn making you giggle. 

you let out a loose groan when momo licks up your entrance, the grip on your legs grows tighter. momo’s tongue moves inside you, then tends to your clit; her tongue moves in ways that has your voice ringing out, reverberating in the room.

and when you cum, so wonderfully when it’s momo who’s making you do so, you shake and arch even as momo keeps going. she slows her tempo down before kissing the inside of your thighs, seconds later she peeks out the covers and you can’t help but laugh at the way she emerges.

“we’ve just woken up and you’re already wet.”

you scoff playfully, ruffling momo’s hair. “again, who’s fault is that.”

“mine but,” she hovers over you before kissing your lips. “you like it.”

she sits up now, straddling you in a way. “now let’s get breakfast, eating you out is great but my stomach might yell soon.”

you laugh at her. “you’re like a vacuum.”

“well who else is going to finish your food, y/n. be grateful. besides, you like that too.”

–

you like momo a lot, that’s for sure.

you like the way she asks how you are, how she listens to you, and how she’s given you aftercare for the first time since the first time you fucked thomas.

momo’s like a breath of fresh air. it feels different being with her, like a wild animal feeling tenderness and care for the first time – different, calm, and nice. the more you spend time with her after this, going on more dates and rambling your tongues off until you’re both tangled up and passed ou ton the couch; you can’t help but realize that she’s who your time belongs to.

she’s nothing like thomas, light years away from being any similar to him. it’s satisfying watching him watch the two of you bond like you should, his presence reminds you that momo’s the upgrade you need, and he can’t do anything about the fact that he’ll never compare to his step-sister.

—

–

it’s a few months later after your first encounter with momo – almost two months after you slept with her – the two of you walk with your arms linked through the same park near your place.

she orders you coffee and you fish out pastries from your bag to share. she leads you to the same place that she had brought you to when you had first met, sitting the two of you down in front of the same tree.

momo pulls out her sketchbook, you lean on her when she unlinks arms.

“y/n,”

you peer at her curiously. “yes?”

“remember when i was talking about that design when we first met? the little seating area around that tree right there.” she points over at the little area where the tree stands. “it was for an assignment, but i tweaked some of the model and idea, looked over at some materials and–”

“what are you getting at?”

momo’s smiling big, so big that all her teeth show and her eyes almost close. 

“they’re going to add it.”

“what?”

“it’s happening, we talked to the park management and they really like my idea.”

your eyes widen and jaw slacks open. momo laughs as you hug her pulling away and then kissing her on the lips proudly.

“oh my god? oh my god. momo! i’m so proud, oh my gosh…”

she giggles before kissing you again. “thank you baby. i actually wanted to thank you.”

“what?”

“if it weren’t for you who listened to all my stupid rambling and listened so well, i don’t know if this would’ve happened.” momo begins, looking down at the paper and pen in her hands. then she looks at you with those big eyes of her, softening upon meeting your features. “and i know so much has happened and you’ve always been so great and–” 

she pauses, inhaling deeply.

“i just love you so much.”

she’s sitting there, looking at you with so much emotion, and you feel like a star in the sky has just been picked out and placed right in front of you. 

“momo, i love you too.”

if the world fell apart right this moment, you’d cling onto momo like your life depending on it. your hands find their way to her cheeks, you hold her face in your hands like she’d crumble if you let go – then, you kiss her, soft and sweet.

she moves her hand out of the way and you gasp. 

her cup of coffee tips over and leaks over, creating a palm sized stain on your coat. you watch as momo’s face contorts into one of panic, and then she picks up the cup, moving you away from the spill. you can’t help but laugh; you’re laughing at how she reacts to the situation, but also how perfect it is considering how your first time spent together – alone – had happened.

“i’m so sorry.” stars litter her eyes when she says it, you simply pull her in by the collar and kiss her again.

“you’re perfect.”

#twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #momo x reader #hirai momo x reader #hirai momo #momo smut #twice smut #twice momo

[lyneira]

♡♤ hugging you from behind ♤♡

-> how the genshin men hug you from behind

Suggestive at some parts! (very suggestive at the end)

the playful ones

Itto, Venti, Gorou

These guys will be fun-loving, squeezing your waist and pressing their face against your back as they embrace you tightly from behind. And they won't be letting go of you for a while. They'll be like a leech, the way they'll cling onto your back like that, but to them, they simply see you as their teddybear. After all, you bring them comfort, warmth, and they love you so very much that they simply can't let go. You're presence and holding you tight like this soothes them.

I feel like Itto and Venti would probably even lift you off your feet and spin you around at some point too, so you'd be tossed around like one too lol.

the calm ones

Cyno, Kazuha, Tighnari, Albedo, Thoma

They'll be less hyper about hugging you from behind and will wrap their arms around your waist much more gently in comparison, yet, will also hold you for a long time as well. These guys will be calm and would simply want to enjoy this moment with you in peace, feeling more and more at ease as they observed the way you felt in their arms, engraving the shape and feeling into their skin. A feeling they'd always miss whenever apart from you. They'll likely rest their chin on the top of your head or nuzzle into the crook of your neck, taking deep inhales of your scent, and will sigh out contentedly as it assured him that he was where he belonged- safe and at home with you.

They wanted this time to just intake as much of you as they could.

the intense ones

Diluc, Scaramouche, Kaeya, Xiao

The way they'd hug you would surprise you as it revealed a side of them that they would rarely ever show.

He'd squeeze you tightly, but in a different way compared to the playful ones. It's rather desperate, as if he's afraid that if he were to let go, you would slip from him his fingers. It's a hug that begs you to stay with him, to never abandon him, one that hopes that you love him as deeply as he loves you. He'll probably bury his face into your shoulder, as to hide the pensive look on his face while he fears the thought of ever losing you. He would feel so vulnerable in the moment.

But gently hold his face with your hand, softly tell him to look at you, and he will. His eyes will soften at the sight of your smile and your words of assurance will lighten the weight on his chest, even more so when you turn to embrace him with the same devotion and love behind it.

the sensual ones

Ayato, Baizhu, Alhaitham, Dainsleif, Zhongli

When they decide to hug you from behind, they'll be hugging you to tell you much more than "I love you"

They'll pull you in close, keeping you pressed against themselves, bringing their face close to yours and would stare into your eyes with a hazy look, smiling ever so slightly when you begin to blush. They would then slowly let their hands snake around your waist and roam freely up and down your body, sometimes resting on certain areas that he knew would make you heat up, and sometimes even fiddling, massaging, caressing, and rubbing those sensitive spots.

He would do all of this and more as to say, "I want you. I desire you. I adore you. Let me take care of you" because it's already clear that they loved you deeply in the way he would devour your lips and kiss you all over.

the teasing ones

Heizou, Childe, Kaveh

They find this the perfect position to tease you. They would pull you in close, wrapping their arms firmly around your waist and begin whispering sweet-nothings into your ear, lips grazing your ear and his hot breath tickling your skin.

He would feel as your body gets warmer, and would proceed to leave kisses up and down your neck, kissing the spot behind your jaw, your nape, and would leave a trail of kisses down to your shoulder, smiling into your skin as he sees your flustered face.

Bonus:

the sensual + teasing ones

Ayato, Childe, Alhaitham, Baizhu, Zhongli, Diluc

Now this is a dangerous combo. If he's hugging you like this, then that means he really intends to get down and dirty with you. He'll start by bringing your body pressed against his, ensuring that you feel his chest pressing against your back, and most of all feel the pressure of his desire poking at your behind. He'll then whisper into your ear, telling you how much he loves you, asking if you can feel how much he loves you, and telling you all of the things he wants to do to you- Scratch that, telling you all of the things that he will do to you, all while groping and caressing the spots that he knew would get you hot.

I can see them either having you sit on their lap while doing this, or continue standing before eventually bending you over and- well, you know the rest 😏🤭

a/n: I've realized this kinda started off fluffy but the further you read down, the more suggestive it gets LOL

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

#genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #ayato x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader #dainsleif x reader #scaramouche x reader #heizou x reader #kazuha x reader #baizhu x reader #cyno x reader #albedo x reader #tighnari x reader #itto x reader #venti x reader #xiao x reader #thoma x reader #gorou x reader #nene writes~♡

[ikinremu]

if you could do like a dumbification reader and thomas shelby i’d die happy please and thank u :)

Hi anon, thank u sm for requesting!! Hope you like it <3

Think Straight

Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

! Smut Warning !

Tags: Dumbificiation, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie

"You just couldn't think of anything else, could you?"  Tommy scoffed, wooden door rattling shut behind the pair of you. 

Your linen coated back pressed up to the wood, a familiar set of eyes honing in on your own.

"Wanted me to fuck you, is that it?" He spoke, raising one complacent brow. His hands immediately found your waist, drawing your eager bodies closer to one and other.

An intense arousal simmered between your legs, triumphant in the knowledge you'd be getting what you'd longed for. You could resist sporting a smile, nodding softly in response.

"Tommy," You began, unsure where you'd even take the sentence, though before you had time to contemplate the matter, Tommy slid a single finger into your mouth.

"Shh," He hushed, "I've heard enough from you."

Your eyes widened momentarily, feeling the callous pad of his thumb roll onto your tongue.

Using the unoccupied hand to lower the waistband of his trousers, he released his hard length with a low, relieved groan, feeling you whimper slightly against his thumb.

You reached out a hand, impatient to have him against your palm, though he dismissed it with a hint of a smirk, "So eager, eh?"

Tommy wasn't wrong; you were. Despite his presence being right before you, it wasn't enough. It wouldn't be until he was inside you.

Sliding one vacant hand beneath your skirt, he pulled the sodden cotton of your panties aside, completely baring you to his touch. "Fuck," He uttered, "You're soaking."

You murmured something practically unintelligible against his thumb as it lay against your tongue.

"Do what you're good for a spread those legs for me." Tommy commanded, a blatantly clear sense of amusement laced in his tone. And it was driving you beyond wild.

You hastily obeyed, parting your thighs, curious eyes flitting directly to the piercing pair before you.

He seized his thick, bare length within his hand, angling his tip with your drenched, welcoming cunt. With a deep, gruff groan, Tommy slid right past your drenched walls, stretching your tight cunt.

Tenderly, you moaned against his thumb once again as he filled you so flawlessly. Your heavy lids screwed together with nothing but sheer pleasure as he planted his first thrust, rocking you against the door. You instinctively swung your legs round his pelvis, desperate to feel him further.

"Gonna fuck all the thoughts out that pretty little head, eh?" Tommy assured, the pulse of his tip hitting tauntingly in your soaked pussy as his hips bucked up.

Your lips sealed as his thumb slithered from the warmth of your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your behind with both large, splayed hands. Your head lolled back, finding rest against the door, teeth sinking ferociously into your lower lip. You clenched around him, squeezing his length as his hips jerked erratically, lips curving into a slight smirk at your noises.

"Poor thing." Tommy mock frowned, "Can't think straight can you?"

You whined with broken breaths, shaking your head less than subtly, mouth falling open as his thick tip striking your g spot in a perfect rhythm. You writhed a little as he gave your ass another squeeze, arousal spiking even higher.

"That's it, all you can do is take it, hm?" He teased, greedily pulling your heat against him with each escalating thrust, "Making a pretty little mess of yourself on my cock, eh?""

His words merely fuelled the sultry fog in your head, sopping cunt twitching around his shaft,

"F-fuck.." You practically babbled out, "So good.."

"I know," Tommy chuckled in acknowledgment, switching one hand to gently cup the flush of your cheek, "Making that perfect cunt feel so good, isn't that right?"

Suddenly, the very same hand was shifting between your legs, fingertips toying with the drastic swell of your clit, only enhancing your pleasure.

Your eyes couldn't resist but flutter shut, back hollowing an arch against the door.

"Look at that.. all fucked out." He taunted, entirely unable to do anything except lust over the sight of you, watching wildly as his cock brought you closer and closer.

His skilful digits didn't relent upon playing with your swollen clit, drawing the most intoxicating moans from your throat. His bare length twitched inside you with each following thrust, evidently losing composure.

"You want me to fill this sweet little cunt?" Tommy grunted, edging nearer and nearer as your walls spasmed around him, "Give you something to think about for once?"

Nodding, you uttered trails of quiet, messy 'pleases' between your shallow panting, feeling an euphorically familiar knot become apparent in your stomach, winding tighter and tighter as you were so fulfillingly stretched around Tommy's cock.

As the pressure of his fingers quickened against your sensitive cunt, the knot so suddenly snapped, body shaking as you were hit by the ferocity of your orgasm.

Your now over-responsive pussy quivered weakly, a loud moan escaping you, Tommy doing the same. With one faulty rock of his hips, a familiarly warm burst found your cunt.

Chest rising and falling rather dramatically, your breaths gradually grew steadier.

Tommy studied you intently, offering a proud smile as he snaked a hand upwards, gently tapping the side of your head, tutting, "Nothing going on up there, hm love?"

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the requests/asks feature on my page - it’d be so greatly appreciated!

#smut #smutty #drabbles #oneshot #peaky blinders #peaky blinders smut #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x reader

[cleo-fox]

Close Quarters

Part 2 of 2

(Part 1)

Summary: The thrilling conclusion to Part 1.

Pairing: Loki x Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki, Reader gets a little bratty, little bit of a sir kink, cunnilingus, blow jobs, filth.

A/N: I know I usually choose a Loki GIF but Thomas Sharpe seemed…more appropriate. I’ve got a couple more one shots with these idiots, so if you want to see more, lemme know.

Mercifully, the hallway is empty.

You imagine that your exit from the elevator looks as scandalous as what happened inside it. You are draped in Loki’s arms, still out of breath and a little glassy eyed from the two earth shattering orgasms that he’d given you only minutes prior. In contrast, Loki looks relatively put together and intently focused, like there’s nothing more important on this earth than getting you both back to your suite as quickly as possible. That thought gives you a bit of a thrill—the idea of you wanting him is not necessarily new or unusual, but the idea that he might want you just as much is utterly thrilling.

It occurs to you that you’re in rather close proximity to his neck and it seems like a shame to let that opportunity go to waste. You press your lips against the pulse point in his throat and lazily make your way along his jaw. His breath hitches when you catch his earlobe between your teeth.

“Are you trying to ensure that I take you in the hallway, Mrs. Pine?” he says, his voice dropping deep.

“I won’t be able to scream for you in the hallway,” you breathe into his ear, “and I kinda think you want that.”

“Minx,” he growls, picking up his pace just slightly as you resume kissing his neck.

“I take it that means I’m right,” you say. “Or that I’m in for it when we get back to the room.”

He chuckles. “Oh, it’s both, darling.”

You shiver and nip at his earlobe once more.

Loki drops the glamor as soon as the door to your room shuts behind you and while you like the cropped blond hair of Jonathan Pine, there is something about his natural long, dark locks that drives you wild.

“Let’s me make two things clear, Agent,” he says as he carries you into the bedroom. “First: there are no covers in here; I want you screaming my name when you come. Second—” he sets you down at the foot of the bed. “—I want to taste your pretty cunt.”

Heat and tension coil in your hips. “I can agree to both of those things.”

“Good. Undress.”

He watches as you slowly strip off your swimsuit, his eyes greedy and hungry. Once you’re completely naked, he gives himself a moment to look you over in full, unconsciously licking his lips when his gaze falls on your breasts and hips, his eyes devouring every inch of you. Finally, he nods at the foot of the bed. “Sit.”

You sit down on the bed and he begins unbuttoning his shirt. He takes his time and you watch, enraptured by the slow reveal of his well-muscled chest and taut, flat stomach. The shirt is discarded on the floor with your swimsuit. He undoes his belt, then the button and zip on his shorts.

He’s wearing black boxer briefs, which surprises you—you had assumed that his preference was likely to go commando. But honestly, the boxer briefs are so fitted that the effect is essentially the same: they cling to every dip and swell and leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. The material is taut across his thighs and his cock strains hard at the fabric. If pressed, you could probably create a reasonably accurate sketch based on this view alone.

You don’t have terribly long to contemplate this, though—he kneels in front of you, pulling you in for a slow kiss, his large hands cupping your breasts. His kiss is thorough and sensual, but the addition of his hands kneading your breasts and gently teasing and pinching the sensitive skin of your nipples may actually send you into the stratosphere.

And then he lowers his mouth to your breast and you lose the ability to form coherent thoughts. He strokes his tongue lazily on your nipple in slow circles, lightly teasing the hardened bud with his teeth and bringing another flood of slick arousal to your cunt. Your hips rock fruitlessly against nothing, seeking friction to ease the throbbing pulse of your clit.

You sigh, letting your eyes close and your head tip back, your fingers tangling in his hair. After a moment, you reach for his free hand and guide it between your legs. His fingers dip between your legs, collecting your slickness and gently rolling against your clit.

You moan and he draws back, eyes dark. “Lie back,” he says softly.

You recline on the bed and his focus shifts to you spread out before him. “Lovely,” he says. He is being sincere—and there’s a power in that that thrills you, that sends even more heat and slick to your aching cunt.

When he’s looked his fill, he brings both of your legs over his broad shoulders. He lowers his head to your cunt slowly, first dipping down to inhale your scent and then with one wicked grin, slipping the warm blade of his tongue between your folds.

Your exhale is shaky and turns into a soft whine in the back of your throat as he licks a long, broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit.

“Fuck, Loki.” His name falls from your lips unbidden. You prop yourself up on your elbows and drink in the sight of him between your legs, head bowed like he is worshiping at the most sacred and solemn altar.

In the elevator, he was determined to make you come as quickly as possible; now, though, in the privacy of your room, he seems intent on taking his time and building you up achingly slowly. His tongue laves over your clit at a leisurely pace, teasing and tasting and sucking until he finds the rhythm and movement that makes you try to press your quaking thighs together because it feels so incredible. He gently presses your legs back open, keeping you spread and fully at the mercy of the rolling waves of pleasure that his mouth is creating. One of his long and elegant fingers slides inside of you and curls, pressing against that sweet, soft spot that makes your hips buck and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

When a second finger joins the first a few minutes later, you know that it won’t be much longer. Loki looks up at you, lust-glazed eyes glittering like he knows that too.

You approach the edge slowly, your breath coming in rolling gasps, your hands gripping his hair. He watches you, his gaze both hungry and mischievous. You bite your lip, breath stuttering as you furrow your brow against that final ascent.

And then the tension finally snaps and your head tips back as you tumble off the edge and into your climax, your free fall as decadent and shiver-inducing as the beautifully slow buildup.

You don’t manage to gasp his name because the concept of words has fled you entirely and the only sound that escapes your lips is a sharp cry. From the glint in his eye and the low groan of approval offered against your clit, Loki doesn’t seem to mind at all.

The aftershocks roll through you in rippling waves that make your toes curl and it takes you a moment to catch your breath.

“I confess, I’m quite tempted to stay here all night,” says Loki, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. “You have the sweetest cunt.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you say, your words slurred with pleasure.

“Hardly.” He licks you very slowly from your entrance to your clit and you sigh, running your fingers through his hair. He repeats the same circuit twice more.

“In fact,” he murmurs, placing another kiss on your clit, “I think I may need another taste.” Another lingering kiss, his tongue teasing your entrance. You suck in a shuddering breath.

“One more.” Another long stroke of his tongue and you shiver again.

“Darling, I’m so sorry—” a quick kiss to your clit, “—but I think I’m going to have to make you come again. I'm simply famished.”

Your back arches and you moan as his mouth once again envelopes your clit and his fingers slide back inside you, curling into that soft, sweet spot. You’re a little sensitive, but he’s moving with such achingly perfect precision that you can already feel another orgasm starting to build in your hips.

The ascent is much quicker this time, and you soon find yourself whimpering and panting, your hands tangling again in his hair. He groans against you and you swear you feel the vibrations shimmer all along your aching core.

“Please,” you moan. “Please. I’m so close. Please.”

He lets you ride the edge for a little bit longer, despite your pleas and your iron grip on his hair. But after a minute or so, he seems to take pity on you and he increases his pace just slightly. Your orgasm blossoms in your hips, your cunt clamping down on his fingers as you moan his name to the ceiling.

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs a moment later, as his fingers coax you through the aftershocks. He looks you over, licking his lips. “You’re gorgeous like this, you know,” he says, eyes dragging greedily over your body. “Naked and utterly fucked out. Perfection.”

You shiver and slowly convince your loose muscles to allow you to sit up. “I don’t think you can say I’m fucked out if you haven’t actually fucked me.”

His eyebrow arches, “Is that so?”

You scoot to the edge of the bed so that you can run your hands over his firm chest. You press a kiss just above his belly button, tongue flicking out briefly against his skin. “Seems reasonable to me.”

“Do you want me to fuck you, Agent?” he says, his voice dropping low.

“I mean, that’s what I was hinting at, yes,” you say.

His eyes are hooded as he gives you a sly, calculating smile. “But do you deserve to be fucked, Agent?”

Feeling a little bold, you place your palm flat against the substantial bulge in his boxer briefs, running your hand along the hard, thick length of him. Fuck, he’s big. “Yes,” you say.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, his expression and voice deliciously stern despite your hand on his cock. “You’ve been quite pert. Disobedient. Mouthy.”

You think you have an idea where this is going. “So am I getting punished or begging for you to forgive me?” you ask with a coy smile.

The hunger and delight in his gaze makes you ache. “Let’s see what your smart mouth can do to my cock and maybe then I’ll consider fucking you.”

You lick your lips and trace your fingertips along the sharp lines of his Adonis belt, pausing at the waistband of his boxer briefs. You hook your fingertips under the elastic and pull them down.

His cock springs free as the fabric falls to the floor. Between sitting on his lap and the unsubtle nature of the boxer briefs, you knew he was long and thick, but you’re still not fully prepared to experience the full effect of seeing his cock be hard and ready for you.

“Fuck,” you breathe. You take a moment to admire him, despite the fact that you know it’s likely only inflating his ego. 

“Do you want me, Agent?” he drawls with a lazy smile. “Do you want my cock?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” you say. “In fact, I’m certain you do.”

“Perhaps I like hearing you say it,” he says, bringing one hand up to stroke your cheek. “Would that be such a terrible thing?”

Impulsively, you get to your feet and pull him into a kiss. You can still taste yourself on him—salty and a little sweet.

“You like hearing me talk about how I want you?” you say, pressing your hips against his.

“Very much.” His voice is a low purr and you shiver in his arms.

“I’m aching for you to fill me,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss him. “I’m dripping just thinking about it.” You nip at his lower lip and he groans against your mouth. “But first, I want to get on my knees and worship your perfect cock with my mouth.”

There's a low, pleased rumble deep in his chest and you shiver as you draw away. “Sit down.”

He sits down on the foot of the bed and you position yourself in front of him, standing between his spread thighs and lowering yourself to your knees. You run your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your fingernails along his skin, enjoying the slight hitch in his breath. You kiss the inside of his left knee and slowly make your way up the inside of his left thigh, dragging your tongue along his skin every so often. You continue this all the way up to the crease where his thigh meets his hip, close enough that he can feel the heat of your breath on his beautiful cock.

And then you lean back and begin the same process again on his right leg.

“What,” he says, his voice going deep and dark, “did I say about playing games, Agent?”

You tilt your head to look up at him. He’s staring down at you with a stern look that makes your cunt clench.

“You know, I came so hard earlier, I can’t quite recall,” you say, making your eyes as wide and innocent as you can.

“And if you want to come again tonight, you’ll find a way to remember,” he says. He’s stern and authoritative, and it’s ridiculously hot. “Now put that smart mouth to work on my cock,” he growls.

“Yes, sir.” The phrase just sort of slips out, but the way it makes your cunt ache and his eyes glitter is absolutely delicious.

“Oh, I like those manners, pet,” he purrs. “I want to hear more of that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, pausing to lick your lips, “sir.”

“Good girl.”

His cock is flushed and so hard it presses up against his stomach. You wrap one hand around his shaft and you suck in a breath when your fingers don’t quite meet. He’s huge and the thought of having him inside of you makes you shiver and ache in anticipation.

You stroke him once and lower your mouth to the tip of his cock, placing gentle, closed mouth kisses on it.

He tolerates this for about thirty seconds.

“Agent.” His voice is laced with warning. “I won’t warn you again.”

Your lips curl into a slight smile and you flick your tongue against the tip of his cock, savoring the sharp tang of his pre-come. His eyes glitter down at you, still watching, waiting for you to disobey him.

“Am I not allowed to savor this experience?” you ask, intentionally licking your lips.

“I would urge you to consider that only good girls get to come on my cock, darling,” he says, his voice going dark and deliciously stern. “Choose your next moves wisely.”

The reality is that you desperately want to come on his cock and you wouldn’t put it past him to deny you. So, you offer him a sly smirk before you slowly begin to lick the tip of his cock, gradually opening your lips and bringing him into your mouth.

He groans softly. “You just need a firm hand, don’t you?” he says as you begin to move your head, stroking his shaft in a slow rhythm. His fingers card through your hair as he leans back on one hand, allowing himself to relax a little. “Or perhaps it’s that you want my cock more than you want to be a brat.”

You look up at him and raise an eyebrow. He’s not wrong.

He laughs low in his throat. “Oh, I think I’m going to  have you taking my orders by the time the week is up.” He reaches out to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You have such a needy little cunt and I rather think that will prove to be an advantage for me.”

Your instinct is to let out a low whine, but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You can’t fully stop yourself from reacting, though, and a soft whimper makes its way out of your lips.

He catches this and smirks. “You like being mouthy and talking back, but I think you also crave a little discipline. Being told what to do gets you off, doesn’t it?”

This time, you do whine and he smiles down at you, eyes hooded. “That works out rather nicely,” he says, his voice dropping deep, “because I quite enjoy giving orders.”

You shiver and he notices, running his fingers through your hair.

“Filthy girl,” he purrs. “We’re going to have so much fun together.” He watches you for a minute, eyes hooded, lips slightly parted. “You’re gorgeous like this, too, you know,” he says. “On your knees with my cock in your mouth like a good girl. I could watch this for hours.” You glance up at him and catch his lazy smile. “Though,” he continues, “I suspect you’ll also look gorgeous riding my cock. Or perhaps spread out and tied to the bed.”

This image is too much for you: a high pitched whine makes its way out of your throat before you can think better of it.

“Oh, you like that idea?” he says, not sounding very surprised at all. “You like the thought of being bound and completely at my mercy?”

Another embarrassing whine escapes you before you can stop it.

“We’ll have to explore that some time this week,” he says. “Though I am starting to develop a rather lengthy list of things I want to do to you.”

Fuck. You are caught between wanting him to keep talking and wanting him to shut up so you stop making such embarrassing noises.

Admittedly, the idea of making him feel so good that you render him speechless is also incredibly appealing.

You suck just a little harder, cheeks hollowing as you start running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, swirling it on the tip as you come up.

His eyebrows draw together, his lips parting slightly. “Fuck. That’s it.”

You pick up your pace just a little and he groans, his hand going to grip your hair.

“Yes—just like that.” His grip tightens on your hair. “If your cunt is even half as good as your mouth—fuck, yes, right there—I’m going to have a hard time leaving this room this week.”

You hum against his cock and he groans, his hips starting to rock toward your mouth. “Do you like this?” he asks, his voice husky. “Do you like being on your knees for me?”

You moan against his cock, sucking harder.

“You do, don’t you?” he says, his voice a little unsteady. “Barely an hour and you’re already such a slut for my cock.”

You moan again, bobbing your head up and down his length.

“Such a good girl,” he purrs. “A bit of a brat to start, but I think I’m going to have to reward you for this. Your mouth is too fucking good.”

Another moan slips past your lips. He groans and is quiet for a minute or two, his hips rocking toward you.

His breath is coming in shaky gasps now. “I’m close, love,” he says, his fingers flexing in your hair. “I’m going to spill myself in your pretty mouth and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.”

You can’t help but moan, which seems to spur him on. His lips part and you can almost feel how close he is.

He makes the most beautiful noise as he comes, a low groan that seems to reverberate in your cunt as he empties himself into your mouth. You swallow his release greedily as you continue stroking him, your head moving up and down his length.

You pull off of him slowly, licking your lips and you look up at him, your mouth curling into a smirk. “So, was that a proper enough apology for you?” you ask.

He growls low in his chest, eyes opening to look down at you. “You are still far too pert for your own good,” he says. “I suspect I’m going to have to put you over my knee at some point this week. You need discipline.”

You suck in a deep breath as your cunt clenches at the possibility.

“But right now, I need to fuck you.” He gestures to the bed. “Get up here. Now.”

You don’t need any encouragement to follow this command, but the way that he delivers the order and the way his green eyes get all steely is enough for more slickness to collect between your legs. You clamber to your feet, but before you can even try getting on the bed, he’s pulling you to him and flipping you onto your back. He rolls on top of you, caging you in with his body, his impossibly hard cock throbbing against your stomach.

He kisses you, tongue pressing into your mouth, hungry and claiming. “Do you want me inside you?” he purrs against your lips. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“I need you to fuck me,” you say, spreading your legs and tilting your pelvis up toward him. “I want you to claim me.”

His smile is sharp and he drags the tip of his cock along your cunt, coating himself in your slickness. “Still so fucking wet,” he growls.

“I told you I need you,” you murmur.

He lines himself up at your entrance and ever so slowly begins easing into you. He presses forward, inch by glorious inch, until his hips are flush against yours.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe. “You feel so good.”

He smiles and withdraws just an inch or two before pressing back in. You arch underneath him and let out a soft moan.

“How about that? Is that good?” he asks.

You moan and nod.

He repeats the action. “And this?”

You offer up another moan and he grins. He repeats the action again, clearly teasing you. “What about this one?”

“Loki, please—”

“What is it darling?”

You’re not quite sure if you want to kiss or slap that smirk right off his face.

“Please don’t stop, please—”

“Oh, you want me to keep doing this?” he says, his brow furrowing in mock confusion. “You should have said something.”

“Loki, please—”

He chuckles quietly and begins rocking his hips against yours in slow, shallow thrusts. You sigh and wrap your legs around his waist, meeting his mouth as he kisses you. You can tell he’s holding back, though.

“I’m not going to break,” you finally say, tilting your hips to rock with his. “I want more. I want you to fuck me.”

He kisses you hard and his thrusts lengthen and deepen, his pace increasing just a hair, and you cry out because he’s now hitting that soft, sweet spot and he feels even better.

“You’re taking me so well, darling,” he says. “This snug little cunt was made for my cock, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” you breathe, arching your back. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

He wraps those long fingers around your ankles and brings your legs up so that they are draped over his shoulders, your body folded in half. He thrusts again and his cock presses even deeper, rubbing against that tender spot inside you. His thumb finds your clit and you whimper. Pressure is starting to build in your hips again.

“You’re getting close already, aren’t you?” he rasps, grinning at you like a devil. “I can feel you starting to tremble.”

You keen, your cunt clenching around his steadily thrusting cock.

“Are you going to be a good girl and come on my cock?” he growls.

You nod, words somewhere beyond you.

“I want you to soak my cock,” he purrs. “Let it all out. Scream for me.”

You feel yourself poised on the edge. So close.

“Come for me, darling, that’s it, let go, come for me, let me feel that sweet cunt milk me dry…”

You arch your back as your orgasm blossoms and unfurls. The sound that falls from your lips is a high pitched keening that would be Loki’s name, except there’s no space for anything besides this incredible feeling, his cock inside you, and the weight of him on top of you.

“Oh there you go, that’s it,” he murmurs. “You have the tightest, most exquisite cunt. I could fuck you for days.”

You moan, shuddering in the final throes, your cunt spasming around his thick cock. He withdraws for a moment and you moan at the loss, but he quickly flips you onto your stomach and slides right back inside you.

From this angle, his cock thrusts even deeper, pressing more directly against your G-spot. A few strokes in and it becomes glaringly apparent to you that you’re going to come again.

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” he pants, thrusting hard into you. “I can feel you starting to tremble already.”

You moan into the comforter, arching your back so he hits that spot again.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest. “I want to hear every filthy little sound that you make. Every. Last. One.” He thrusts in time with those last three words and you moan.

“You love this, don’t you?” he growls, his hips thrusting hard. “You love me taking you from behind like a fucking animal.”

Your legs are shaking and you can feel your orgasm building. “Loki, I’m gonna come again,” you whimper.

“I know you are, sweet girl,” he growls. “I can feel your tight cunt trembling.” His free hand slides between your legs, fingers rolling over your clit in the same rhythm as his thrusting cock.

Your breath stutters and a low whine escapes your lips. You are deliciously close.

“Please.” Your voice is barely a gasp. You’re riding the very edge of that wave and it feels so good that you’re almost certain the oncoming climax couldn’t possibly feel better. Almost.

“Oh, you’re almost there, love, you can do it,” says Loki, his hand still moving with his hips. “You just need to let go.”

You whimper. You are almost there.

“Be my good girl and let go for me,” he rasps. “Come for me.”

It breaks quite suddenly, your whole body shuddering and your cunt clamping down hard on his cock as you come. The noise you make is animalistic, torn from somewhere deep in your chest.

“Fuck!” Loki is fucking you hard, hips pistoning against your ass. “So fucking tight, you’re like a vise when you come, fuck—” His speech gives way into either Asgardian or Old Norse—you’re not quite sure which, but the idea that you’ve made him feel good enough to abandon English is incredibly appealing.

You’re dreamily floating back down from your high when you hear him make that beautiful noise again, that low, deep groan that falls from his lips only when he comes. You feel his release flood your cunt, hot and thick, as his hips finally start to slow.

It’s another minute or two before he rolls off you, flopping down next to you on the bed. Before you even have a moment to miss him or the comforting weight of his body on yours, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

You both lie there for a long moment, catching your breath.

You think back to your initial meeting with Fury, when you complained about being sent in with Loki. You’ve never been more pleased to be wrong in your entire life.

“So,” you say once you feel capable of speech, “you said you had some ideas for the rest of the week?”

If you thought his grin was devilish before, it’s nothing compared to what he looks like now as he pulls you on top of him.

“Darling,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki x yn smut #loki x you #loki x you smut #loki x female reader smut #loki x y/n #loki odison x reader

[azullumi]

jealousy — various characters ☆彡

summary — how does jealousy feels for him and how does he deal with it?

characters — kaveh, tighnari, thoma, cyno, wanderer, alhaitham, ayato, kazuha, diluc (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — kind of fluff, jealousy, possessiveness, i want to kiss diluc so bad, not proof-read; headcanons

words — 1204

note — this was supposed to be longer but my brain is fried and bondee anyone? :D if anyone wants to be neighbors, just tell me

KAVEH — It's obvious when he gets jealous, you could just immediately tell if there's envy and jealousy brewing in his mind whenever he sees you with another person—specifically someone who is obvious with their intentions to you but you're oblivious to it—because of how he shows his emotions and is usually expressive about it. Rolling his eyes as he replies once you have touched upon the topic of what he felt as he knits his eyebrows, and everything, he's conveying it all. However, he would still refuse at the end of it, he won't even admit to it but you'll know. He’ll even lean more on the petty side, making remarks like how you should ask that ‘friend’ you’re so close with but once you’ll go and turn around, he’ll ask you where you’re going and tell you to not leave. 

TIGHNARI — He’s very much open with his emotions to you and doesn’t hide anything from you so when he's feeling something, whether it be sadness, happiness, or anything, you’ll know it immediately. This also applies to that bitter and burning feeling in his chest. At times he doesn’t verbally convey to you about what he feels, he shows it through the subtle actions he makes—wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close, showing off that you’re taken and you have him whenever he sees you talking with someone who is showing clear interest to you and giving off a scary presence that he’ll only show towards the people he’s scolding. “I don’t like them,” he’ll say as a remark while donning a calm demeanor, and you’ll either think it’s just that or he’s trying to say something more.

THOMA — Gets extremely affectionate and sweeter than usual. He'll silently beg for more affection from you by being more clingy than he already is—he’ll be all over you like some sort of object or item taped or glued on your body, as if he’s part of the design of your clothing because of just how much he’s sticking to you. The intimacy, fondness, and love that you receive from him on a daily or usual basis? You’ll get triple that amount once he gets jealous, the intimacy and closeness being there but overwhelming. He’ll even bluntly tell you, rubbing it all over your face, that he’s jealous, that he’s really and extremely jealous while pampering you with kisses and what can I say besides you have to deal with it?

CYNO — He places so much faith in you, trusting you and being confident with himself thus he doesn’t get jealous easily. However, when he does—on rare chances— he’s grumpy and much more intimidating than usual. Even if he's known to have a good control with his emotions, dealing with it properly, and placing it where it’s supposed to be, when he gets that feeling, all of those are thrown out of the window and somehow, he find himself twitching his eyebrow and giving death stares to the person acting way too close to you. He does get clingy though, staying closer to you, lingering touches, intertwined hands, and longer gazes, and everything, as if he’s trying to say something through his caresses and strokes on your skin.

WANDERER — Understanding and patience is what you need. He gets irritated or irked off once he gets jealous and you’ll first think if he’s just having his mood swings or something. He’ll leave you thinking and confused, basically not admitting that he’s jealous and would get more irritated if you won’t be able to guess or know what he’s feeling. He just refuses to talk about it, rolling his eyes and turning his back away when you'll ask him if he's jealous or what, and you can’t help but scratch the back of your head upon recognizing the feeling being expressed by him. He’ll be salty for a few days, just give him a little bit of time—he secretly wishes that you'll woo him and give him more of your attention and time instead.

ALHAITHAM — He doesn’t even know it—or more like he just ignores and fans off that feeling in his chest which will slowly grow, as moments pass by. He's the type of person whose jealousy will start really small, letting it pass, until it becomes something he can't completely turn a blind eye to. At first, he could have an inner monologue wherein he’s in conflict with his emotions and thinking him being jealous is impossible but then he imagines you with someone else and he’s irritated. He reasons that perhaps he was envisioning you with Kaveh that’s why he’s displeased so he thinks of another person and the annoyance persists. He tries to create logic out of what he is feeling before giving up and admitting that he is, indeed, jealous.

KAMISATO AYATO — The clingy possessive type of jealousy is what you’ll get from him. Through his actions and simple words, he'll tell the other party to stay away from you before he'll have to deal with them himself and you could and probably would think 'awww, that's so sweet and cute to see that he's jealous.' Not when you'll come home and he's all over you, lips all over your skin, kisses all over your face, and hands all over your body. However, once the two of you are in bed and you have already fallen asleep, he'll admire you for a little bit longer before pulling you close as if he's afraid that you'll leave him, was he being too much? Well, he just can’t help it when he holds so much adoration and love for you.

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA — Communication is the key so when he’s upset or jealous over something, he’ll tell you about it. Not in a way that it feels like he’s reporting some sort of news or topic to you, straightforward and clear—”I am jealous because of this guy that was starting at you,”—but in a roundabout way: asking so much questions, going back and forth a certain event, his mouth lingering on the topic that made him jealous without saying he’s jealous. He just gets repetitive, hoping that you’ll realize and thankfully, due to the fact that he keeps on talking and speaking over something, you’ll eventually realize what’s going on and once he sees that you do, he just laughs nervously and says: “I’m being childish, aren’t I?”

DILUC RAGNVINDR — He silently looms his jealousy over. Silence, silence, silence, that's the only treatment that you will get from him at first except for the short responses and such as he’s busy dealing with his own emotions, his mind muddled with the thoughts that he shouldn’t get jealous over something so small or petty. He just doesn’t know how to act and what to do, resulting in you receiving the silent treatment from him. However, he would then succumb to his emotions after minutes, suffering more from what he’s giving and not talking to you than the feeling of jealousy itself which will lead to him eventually telling you about what he felt and seeing how adorable he is, how he tries to maintain his demeanor and composure, kissing him would be inevitable.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

#yae publishing house #kaveh x reader #thoma x reader #cyno x reader #wanderer x reader #alhaitham x reader #ayato x reader #kazuha x reader #diluc x reader #tighnari x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #azul.writes

[theemporium]

A number 15 green-eyed mojito with Nico💚

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

15. "What would I be jealous about?”

.

“You’re staring.” 

“I’m observing.”

“If looks could kill, he would be dead.”

“Tragic.” 

“Oh my god,” Jack grumbled under his breath, shooting his captain a concerned look before shaking his head. “Remind me not to piss you off.” 

Nico rolled his eyes. “You piss me off quite often, actually.”

“I—” Jack paused, his eyes narrowing as he lightly jabbed his side with his elbow. “One, that was rude. Two, you need to calm down. You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend and you aren’t even her boyfriend. You’re just the jealous part.”

Nico scoffed, but he didn’t tear his eyes away from you. 

Because, as much as it pained him to admit, Jack was right. He was acting like a jealous boyfriend and he was fully aware of that. But it wasn’t like self-awareness couldn’t exactly stop the bitter feelings bubbling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the man openly flirt with you. 

“You know,” Jack continued, something quite like amusement in his voice. “This wouldn’t be a problem if you just grew the balls to ask her out.” 

And he hated that Jack was right again. 

The crush he had been harbouring on you was obvious to everyone with a pair of working eyes. Or at least, everyone except you. Since the day you started on the team, Nico had been all lovesick smiles and longing gazes, practically throwing himself at any social media opportunity he could just so he could spend time with you. It was a little embarrassing and pathetic, all things considered. 

But the worst part was that it had been a better part of two years and Nico had made no move to confess his feelings towards you.

Which then led to moments like now, where Nico had no real reason to feel as irritated as he was over some guy from the media team flirting with you.

“Shut up,” was all he managed to mutter out.

“This is actually really sad to watch,” Jack muttered before sighing deeply. “Just know that I’m doing this because, as your friend and alternate, I’m worried about you possibly breaking your jaw before making a move.”

Nico frowned a little. “What are you—”

But before Nico could even stop whatever stupid move Jack was going to pull, he was calling out your name and waving his hands in such an exaggerated and overly dramatic manner that Nico felt his cheeks heating up. 

“I hate you,” Nico muttered under his breath as you began making your way over.

“You’re about to hate me so much more but I know you love me,” Jack whispered back before he grinned at you, the words leaving his mouth so quick that Nico almost thought he imagined it when the younger boy said, “Nico is jealous.” 

And then, the fucker was running off and leaving a gaping Nico in the dust to deal with the consequences.

You blinked in surprise before you turned to the boy. “You’re jealous?” 

“Me? Jealous? What would I be jealous about?” Nico attempted to laugh off, but it was forced and dry and it didn’t quite land the way he wanted to when he noticed your brows furrowing in concern. “Jack is just messing about, don’t listen to him.”

“Really?” You questioned, watching as Nico quickly nodded in response. “So it has nothing to do with the fact you have spent the last fifteen minutes glaring at Thomas?” 

Nico blinked, feeling the blush spread from his cheeks to the tip of his ears. “Uh—”

“For what it’s worth, I’m not interested in him,” you said.

“Oh.” He couldn’t bring himself to care how happy he sounded, how hopeful.

“I’m interested in someone else,” you continued.

“Oh.” The disappointment was clear and heavy in his voice, inklings of the previous jealousy sinking into his response.

“You might know him,” you added, trying to bite back your smile when you watched his nose scrunch up. “He’s a hockey player, has a cute accent and pretty brown eyes. Think he might even be the captain or something.” 

Blood roared in his ears and he was pretty sure his smile was going to split his cheeks, but he didn’t care. “Really?”

“Yeah, but he’s a little blind,” you teased, almost looking a little bashful despite the unwavering confidence in your voice. “I’ve been waiting for him to ask me out but he hasn’t been catching my hints.”

“He sounds a little stupid,” Nico murmured. Maybe he would’ve felt embarrassed if his heart didn’t feel like it was about to beat out of his own chest. “But I bet he’s wondering if you’re free at seven tonight.”

“Let him know it’s a date,” you said, grinning right back at him.

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