jade🦇

SFW!!

(Solo Scaramouche)

𓏵 He still has his puppet joints, but only on his wrist, hence why he constantly wears those arm sleeves to cover them.

𓏵 The others faded, formed into human skin, human joints, but the wrists stayed like some fucked up joke towards him.

𓏵 He's insecure about them, really insecure. He hates anything about him that makes him seem less human, hates anything that gives people the right to call him uncanny, creepy.

𓏵 His skin is cold, corpse-like most of the time, but it does run warmer if he's been near you for a while, like your own body heat transferring to him.

𓏵 His skin is unervingly smooth. Not a single pore in sight, zero texture, no imperfections. It looks like real human skin from a distance, but if anyone dares to even get close enough, it's too perfect. Like it was glazed by porcelain.

𓏵 Ei can't cook for shit, and he's made it his life mission to do everything that she can't do.

┊ He's an amazing cook, although he doesn't need to cook because he has no one to cook for (before he met you). He cooks for himself. Inazuman dishes, of course, ones that bring him closer to his home, where he was created.

┊ He doesn't need to eat, but he does it anyway because the act of cooking grounds him and gives his hands something to do that isn't violent.

╰┈┈┈➤ He'll cook elaborate meals and eat the entire thing, satisfied not by the food but by the proof that he can create something instead of just destroying.

𓏵 As much as he hates Inazuma, he gets homesick, rarely though, only when he witnesses people in Sneznhaya doing things that would never pass in Inazuma…

┊ Eating while walking, littering, spitting on the ground, coughing or sneezing, especially in his place of work, especially in his office, right in his face.

╰┈┈┈➤ Needless to say, he does get back at them in ways that shut them up permanently (since murder seems to be justified in Teyvat).

𓏵 Flips off the door to Dottore's lab constantly when he passes by it.

╰┈┈┈➤ Both hands, if his hands aren't busy with something, muttering things like "rot", or "die" in Japanese.

𓏵 He's a clean freak who'd even be considered a germaphobe. Just obsessively, aggressively clean.

╰┈┈┈➤ His quarters are immaculate, every surface wiped, every object aligned and in place, every piece of clothing folded perfectly.

𓏵 He reads a lot in his free time. Poetry, mostly, but he'd never admit to it.

𓏵 He doesn't play instruments, but he hums sometimes when he thinks no one's listening. The melodies are always Inazuman, always… old, always songs he heard before he understood what sadness was.

When you're dating the Harbinger

(HC'S - SFW)

𓏵 He isn't that affectionate... at first.

𓏵 He knows how relationships are; he wasn't born yesterday. He's witnessed PDA more times than he could count in his area of work; it's disgusting.

┊ disgusting.

╰┈┈┈➤ until he met you.

𓏵 He learns from how humans interact, the way they blink, when they blink, the way they breathe at certain moments, tense moments, happy moments. But those are all from him observing others from afar. 

╰┈┈┈➤ Now he has you.

𓏵 You're the one who initiated the first kiss, and he let you.

┊ He stood perfectly still while your lips found his, his arms at his sides, his eyes open because he didn't know you're supposed to close them (he learned that later, from you, and now closes them so aggressively it looks like he's bracing for impact).

┊ He didn't decide to like it until you pulled back with a look in your eyes that told him you loved it.

┊ That look, the soft, dazed, slightly breathless expression, that's what converted him. Not the physical sensation. Your reaction to the physical sensation.

╰┈┈┈➤ Only then did he start kissing you just to see that look again, and again, and again.

𓏵 The first time he held your hand was when you initiated it. He was awkward about it at first, his hand stilling in yours, and he acted as if he were a statue. But, as much as he felt like he should, as much as he wants to rip your hand out of his and scold you and tell you to never touch him again… he just took it.

┊ He let you drag him around, and he grew to love the fact that he could feel you without looking to make sure you're still at his side.

┊ It took him 3 weeks to let you hold his hand without thinking about it…

╰┈┈┈➤ … It took him 3 months to be the one to reach for your hand first.

𓏵 Japanese is his main language; it's what he speaks when no one is around, obviously to himself.

𓏵 Even though it'll take a lot of time to learn and master, he teaches you Japanese when he isn't at work. He wants it to be a secret language you both share, and he just wants someone to understand him and listen when he speaks his native language.

┊ He's a good teacher, but not a fun one, the type that makes you speak in a different language when you ask to go to the bathroom.

┊ He's mean until you get it you get it right, he does get intrusive thoughts of shocking you, just a tiny bit with electro, but that thought always does conviently get shut up when you get something right.

╰┈┈┈➤ He rewards you with kisses (primarily because he knows you like them) and with breaks.

𓏵 The kisses started as brief, closed-mouth presses to your forehead. But then they migrated… forehead to your temple… then down to your cheek… then cheek to the corner of your mouth. And then one day, you conjugated a particularly difficult verb perfectly on the first try, and he kissed you full on the mouth.

┊ He looked more surprised than you did, like his body had made a decision he didn't approve of yet.

╰┈┈┈➤ And that's when the kisses started being rewarded solely on the mouth and nowhere else. He's aware of it when he does it, and he forces himself to keep the kisses short, 2 seconds, before he pulls back and says, "Next word."

𓏵 But sometimes, when you get something particularly difficult right on the first try, the kiss lasts longer than 2 seconds.

┊ Sometimes you feel his hand come up to the back of your neck… sometimes you swear you can feel him smile against your mouth.

╰┈┈┈➤ He never acknowledges the longer kisses, but if you even make the mistake of mentioning them, that's when they stop.

𓏵 Will, and I mean will, trick you into saying you love him over and over in Japanese. He won't tell you why he's grinning; he'll just repeat it back and kiss you. You won't realize what you've been saying until you hear him whisper it against your mouth in the same language, and the context finally clicks.

𓏵 He doesn't say "I love you" in Russian, even though that is the common tongue here. He says it only in Japanese. Outside of that one occurrence during the lessons, he doesn't say it a lot. He says it when you're sleeping… or when you're falling asleep. He says it when your back is turned, or when there's noise around to block it out.

𓏵 He's a light sleeper, even though he doesn't technically need to sleep.

┊ He sleeps because you sleep, and he doesn't want to give you the real experience of waking up next to your lover.

┊ He sleeps because the act of lying next to someone with his eyes closed requires a vulnerability he's still learning to embrace.

╰┈┈┈➤ He sleeps because, sometimes, when you shift in the night and press your face into his chest, and mumble something incoherent, the sensation of being needed by an unconscious person who chose him even in sleep is the closest he's come to understanding what warmth feels like from the inside.

𓏵 The more affectionate you become, the more he learns from that, and gets 10x more affectionate than you.

┊ His affection isn't like other people's affection.

╰┈┈┈➤ He doesn't do grand gestures.

𓏵 Absolutely would never buy flowers. (Because he'd prefer to buy things that last longer, things that won't die. Because he hates impermanence.)

╰┈┈┈➤ His affection is structural, like it has a routine of its own.

𓏵 He adjusts your outfit when something's crooked, completely without prompting.

┊ You have bangs? Expect him to randomly adjust them.

╰┈┈┈➤ Headband tilting? He'll adjust that also.

𓏵 He'd fix anything, based on whatever preference you have, because he can't stand seeing something wrong with you; he could make it right.

𓏵 He learns from anything you like, and this could be anything. Even if you subtly, in a conversation, mention that you like a particular trinket, a particular flower, a specific food from a stall you passed once three weeks ago, expect him to bring back the exact thing after a long day of work.

╰┈┈┈➤ He won't make a big deal out of it either. He won't present it or expect any gratitude. He'll just set it on the table, or on your nightstand, and walk past like he didn't just spend an hour after work retracing your steps to a market stall you mentioned once in passing.

𓏵 He memorizes your cycle, how you sleep, your eating habits, and what stresses you.

┊ He isn't controlling (lie), he just likes understanding you.

┊ He notices when you haven't eaten.

╰┈┈┈➤ He notices the difference in your laugh if something's actually funny or if you're pretending that it is.

𓏵 He doesn't get jealous of people flirting with you because he cannot fathom you wanting anyone else (the arrogance is insane… but also true). (if you forget about lohen.)

𓏵 He's jealous of your time. Of the things you do that take your attention from him.

╰┈┈┈➤ You caught him once glaring at a book you were reading because you'd been looking at it for 2 hours instead of at him. (He'll never admit this.)

𓏵 He memorizes which side of the bed you prefer and never takes it. Not once. Not even when you're not there.

𓏵 He doesn't dream… or if he does, he doesn't remember them at all.

╰┈┈┈➤ He's jealous of your dreams in a way he'll never express, because dreaming implies a subconscious that processes and imagines and wanders, and he's not sure he has one. He's not sure there's anything beneath his surface programming. The fear that he's all surface, all code, all function, and no soul, is the thing that keeps him up on the nights he chooses not to sleep.

𓏵 He falls asleep faster when you play with his hair. It's something you discovered one day when you experimented with it, and he surprisingly let you.

╰┈┈┈➤ If you ever told anyone, he would deny it with the fervor of someone on trial for their life.

NSFW!!

(Solo Scaramouche)

𓏵 I HC, as many people do, he has detachable parts (big, thick, not so thick ones, smaller, whatever he’s feeling that day).

𓏵 But, what I mainly like/use in my fics is that he has a real dick of his own. Ei wanted to make him as human as possible, right? So she gave him one. But it wouldn't look normal. It would look too perfect, too symmetrical, too... doll-like.

┊ No curve to it at all, perfectly straight, long, and almost slender like his fingers. (not skinny though, it has girth, enough to stretch).

╰┈┈┈➤ Pink tip that's flushed darker when he's hard. Perfectly manicured veins mapping the shaft, and a little over 7 inches to make up for his height.

𓏵 Even though he's had a dick for 500 years, he's never gotten urges, nothing. No arousal, no curiosity, no reaction to the stimuli that drive humans to do insane, desperate, embarrassing things.

𓏵 He's watched humanity lose its mind over sex for centuries and felt nothing but contempt.

𓏵 But of course, as a stressed-out Harbinger with 5 centuries of tension stored in a body, he wanted to see what the hype was about.

𓏵 He killed the prostitute afterward. It didn't feel as good as humans made it seem, and because the woman tried to sleep in his bed afterward. IN HIS BED.

┊ Like the transaction entitled her to his sheets, his pillow… his space.

╰┈┈┈➤ The disgust he felt wasn't at the act itself but at the presumption of intimacy where none existed.

𓏵 Sex without actual connection was just... maintenance. A biological function performed on a body that wasn't even biological.

𓏵 He cleaned his room for 6 hours after, replaced the sheets and the pillows, scrubbed the floor, and burned incense.

𓏵 He never, ever, wanted to try or even have sex again after that.

𓏵 Ei forgot to install in him whatever makes him want to be touched, apparently…

When you're intimate with the Harbinger

(HC'S - NSFW)

𓏵 He's not into sex or even subtly mentioning it in conversations; you could be dating for 5 years, never going beyond just kissing, unless you initiate the act.

𓏵 He doesn't think about it, doesn't crave it.

𓏵 The kissing is enough, more than enough, because kissing you is the most intimate thing he's ever experienced, and he genuinely doesn't understand why humans need more than that.

┊ And when you do initiate?

┊ When your hands wander past the boundaries he's set without realizing he set them. When your kisses get more intense, and your breathing gets heavier, and you pull back with a look in your eyes that so clearly says, "I want more of you."

╰┈┈┈➤ He doesn't understand why he hated it in the first place.

𓏵 He gets to see you in a way no one else could. He gets to see you, underneath him, looking up at him with trust so absolute it terrifies him.

╰┈┈┈➤ The vulnerability you're offering to him… the gift of your body when his body has never felt like a gift to anyone.

𓏵 That rewires something in his programming that he didn't know could be rewritten.

┊ He gets to touch you, be skin to… puppet skin to him.

┊ Every time you don't flinch at the cold of his hands…

┊ Every time you press closer instead of pulling away…

┊ Every time your body responds to his touch as if it were designed for it…

╰┈┈┈➤ A piece on the wall he built around his part of himself dissolves.

𓏵 He always felt like when he'd kiss you or cuddle with you, it was never enough, and he never understood why. Like there was something he couldn't reach, access, or understand that existed beyond the physical proximity he'd already achieved.

╰┈┈┈➤ He understands the minute he's inside you.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

This is what they were all losing their minds about.

𓏵 He does whatever makes you feel good. He memorizes which angels make your eyes roll back, which pace makes your breath catch, which depth makes you grab at his arms hard enough that he can feel the pressure through the joints he hates.

𓏵 He keeps it sensual and sweet. Keeps it at a pace that lets him catalog every reaction, every sound, every shift in your expression. Because even during sex, he wants to learn you thoroughly.

┊ But if you beg him to go faster, harder, then that switch flips.

╰┈┈┈➤ He's a puppet with inhuman precision, and "harder" from him means something different than "harder" from a human.

𓏵 It was a mistake to ask that on the first time, because he definitely did deliver, and the morning after… let's just say you couldn't walk for 2 days straight!

𓏵 He ejaculates. Actually cums inside you in a way he never thought was possible in his puppet body.

┊ But it isn't because of the sensations, not entirely.

┊ It's because of how much he saw you enjoy it.

┊ Because you wanted to be closer to him, because you kept trying to pull him in, wrap your legs around him, pressed his forehead against his not at all breaking eye contact as you moaned out his name.

┊ He's needy for that.

┊ Needy for your enjoyment and your approval, and the evidence that he's making you feel good, and that is what triggers the release.

╰┈┈┈➤ His body solely responds to your response. His pleasure is a mirror of yours.

𓏵 He doesn't just fuck... 

┊ Because once he discovers pussy eating, fingering, all the ways to pleasure a girl without penetration… he does it too much.

┊ To the point where you have to physically pull him up from between your legs because he'll stay there for hours if you let him.

╰┈┈┈➤ Not because he's insatiable, but because he's a perfectionist, and he's not done until he's gotten you to that specific pitch of a moan that he's made his favorite.

𓏵 He does it to help you sleep because he genuinely does care about your sleep hygiene, and he has read that orgasms release hormones that promote rest.

┊ He does it when you look stressed…

┊ He does it especially when you get too needy, when you're too clingy and handsy, and won't stop pressing against him.

╰┈┈┈➤ He's learned the fastest way to settle you is to take you apart and put you back together.

𓏵 It's creepy how much he takes note of the little things

┊ Left side of your clit- counterclockwise circles at a medium pressure

┊ Two fingers inside your pussy- crook upward at a thirty-degree angle

╰┈┈┈➤ The specific rhythm that builds you fastest versus the one that builds you the slowest… (he uses the slow one when he wants to drag it out, which is sadly most of the time, because watching you grow desperate is a form of entertainment he never gets tired of).

𓏵 He doesn't care about his own pleasure or release.

┊ Eating you out, making you cum, watching your face when you fall apart, that's enough for him.

╰┈┈┈➤ The look on your face when he does something right is more rewarding than any orgasm his body could produce.

𓏵 But when you suggest how much you want to please him too, pay him back for all the times he makes you feel good?

┊ He doesn't exactly protest…

╰┈┈┈➤ … Because you're already between his legs when you ask, and he can't keep himself together at the image of you looking up at him from that angle with that expression.

𓏵 When you go down on him, his hand lands on the back of your head and stays there, holding. His fingers are threading through your hair, and the sounds he makes are quiet. He suppresses any that dare to come out.

╰┈┈┈➤ But he isn't good enough at suppressing them. They escape from time to time. A sigh, or a grunt, he bit down on, or just your name, once whispered, and he finds out that saying it makes the sensation so much better for him.

𓏵 These acts strengthen the bond between you both, especially the trust. He's showing you parts of himself that he's never shown to anyone.

𓏵 The vulnerability of pleasure, of wanting, of needing. For a puppet who spent centuries believing he was incapable of these things, every orgasm is an act of faith.

𓏵 He isn't kinky unless you teach him to be.

╰┈┈┈➤ It's like you're training him, which, ironically, is a kink in itself that neither of you will acknowledge.

𓏵 He'll be anything you want as long as you seem to love it.

𓏵 Degradation Kink? That's his fucking specialty.

┊ He doesn't have to learn how to call you pathetic, desperate, needy, a mess. He's been doing that since before you started dating. The only difference now is context and the fact that you're moaning when he says it instead of throwing any object you can find at his head.

╰┈┈┈➤ "Look at you… You can't even form a coherent sentence. Five minutes ago, you were telling me to hurry up… And now? Now you can't even remember your own name." His thumb presses against your clit while he talks, circling, and he sounds like he's perfectly in control, while you're falling apart. "Pathetic, truly."

𓏵 Praise kink? Ehh… He's a little awkward at first.

┊ He'll learn if you're actually serious about that. He'll try as hard as he can to fight back on his mean tongue.

╰┈┈┈➤He tries because you asked, because it's what you want, and making you feel good is his primary directive, and if that means telling you you're beautiful while he's inside you… He'll choke the words out even if they taste foreign in his mouth.

𓏵 It goes without saying he's shitty about it.

╰┈┈┈➤ "You're... adequate." "That was... not terrible." "Your body is... functional."

𓏵 You stared at him, and he stared back, and neither of you spoke for 10 seconds.

┊ And then you burst out laughing, telling him, "Scara… that's not praise at all."

╰┈┈┈➤ "I said you were adequate! In what language is that not praise?"

𓏵 He gets better, slowly…

┊ "You feel good…" "You feel perfect…"

┊ "Not terrible." "You're so beautiful it makes me angry."

╰┈┈┈➤ "Adequate." "I didn't know something could feel like this, and I need you to know that you're the reason why I know now."

𓏵 He says these things against your skin, into your neck, against your mouth, never looking at you in the eye, because the vulnerability of genuine praise still makes him feel like he's handing someone a loaded weapon.

𓏵 Ever since having sex became a part of his existence rather than a thing he tried once and regretted, he took a break from reading basic poetry and focused on books about female pleasure.

┊ And then he started to have a mind of his own.

╰┈┈┈➤ Got meaner.

𓏵 A new kind of mean that isn't the same as he always is. The kind that knows exactly what you like and weaponizes it, withholds it, makes you beg for things he was planning to give you anyway, just because watching you grow desperate is intoxicating in a way nothing else has ever been.

𓏵 He'd blindfold you a lot once he found out how it might heightens senses.

┊ Removing your sight makes you feel ten times as much pleasure as you'd feel if you could see what he was doing.

┊ He loves the way you gasp louder when you can't predict where his mouth will land next. Loves the way your hands grab at sheets, at pillows, at him, searching for something to anchor you when the darkness makes everything float.

╰┈┈┈➤ He uses his arm sleeves for the blindfold. The ones that cover the joints he's insecure about. There's something poetic about it that he'd never acknowledge out loud, using the thing he hates most about himself to give you pleasure, repurposing his shame into something that makes you moan.

𓏵 He'd tie you up if you squirmed too much. He could hold you down himself, but there's something about restraints that satisfies the control freak in him.

┊ You, laid out, unable to move, completely at his mercy, trusting him so entirely that you let yourself be helpless with the one person in Teyvat who could destroy you without effort.

┊ He checks the bindings constantly.

┊ Between every act, between every change in position, his fingers find the knots and test them, making sure they're secure but not cutting off circulation, not leaving marks that'll last longer than a day.

╰┈┈┈➤ If you asked him why he checks so often, he'd say something mean about not wanting to deal with a medical situation. The truth is that he'd rather stop entirely than cause you discomfort you didn't ask for.

𓏵 He discovered orgasm denial entirely on his own.

┊ No books, no research.

┊ He figured out that if he brought you to the edge and stopped, your body would react in ways that he found fascinating.

╰┈┈┈➤ He'd edge you for so long that you're crying, begging, saying things you'd be mortified about if you could think clearly, and he'll watch the entire time with a calm expression, loving the way you break apart, fully.

𓏵 He'd always let you finish… eventually.

╰┈┈┈➤ He's sadistic, not cruel.

𓏵 He always holds you after.

╰┈┈┈➤ Always makes sure the tears were the good kind, that the begging was the fun kind, that the desperation was the kind that makes you come back wanting more instead of the kind that leaves scars.

𓏵 He figured out overstimulation next.

┊ Instead of denying you, 'punishing' you by giving you too much.

╰┈┈┈➤ Making you cum, and cum, and cum and never stopping.

𓏵 Keeping his mouth on you, his fingers inside you, keeping the stimulation so high it almost grows painful.

╰┈┈┈➤ He does this when you've been particularly bratty, when you've pushed his buttons outside the bedroom, and he's been storing the irritation all day, saving it, converting it into something 'productive'.

𓏵 Toys.

𓏵 He has… opinions about toys.

┊ Specifically, he thinks most of them are poorly designed, cheaply made, and inefficient.

╰┈┈┈➤ He's bought you exactly three toys that meet his standards, and all three were tested (by you, while he observed and took mental notes) before being approved for… regular use.

𓏵 He uses them on you when he's busy.

┊ When he has paperwork to finish, and you're needy and won't stop pressing against him. He'll set you up with a toy, position you where he can see you from his desk, and work while you work yourself into a state.

╰┈┈┈➤ He watches you while he reads and fixes documents. Pretends he's not watching… but his handwriting does get messier the closer you get.

𓏵 He never talks about sex outside the bedroom.

╰┈┈┈➤ He never references it in public, never makes innuendos, never acknowledges that the person standing next to him at Fatui meetings is the same person who was screaming his name into a pillow six hours ago.

𓏵 The compartmentalization is absolute.

╰┈┈┈➤ In public, you're his partner… in private, you're everything.

𓏵 The only exception is when someone flirts with you.

┊ Because that's what makes the avoidance of it break.

╰┈┈┈➤ It breaks just enough that his hand finds the small of your back and his thumb presses against the exact spot where he left a bite mark last night. The pressure makes you inhale deeply, and he smirks, and the person flirting with you suddenly feels very, very small.

𓏵 Aftercare is non-negotiable.

┊ He does it. Every time. Without fail.

┊ Warm cloth… water… whatever food you want brought to bed.

╰┈┈┈➤ He cuddles with you after, his fingers in your hair, combing through the tangles he caused, undoing the mess he made.

𓏵 He checks the writs if he tied you.

┊ He checks your neck if he bit you.

╰┈┈┈➤ Asks questions like: "Can you feel your hands? Do your legs work? You're not going to faint on me, are you? I'm not carrying you to the bathroom; you have functioning limbs."

𓏵 He carries you to the bathroom every single time.

Tamaki froze mid-bite. “She’s—she’s not—don’t call h—her that—” His voice cracked, and he immediately dropped his gaze to his food, cheeks heating.

God, he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

Mirio laughed, bright and loud. “Wow, she really is here. You’ve got good luck, Tamaki! She’s right in line for food.”

Tamaki wanted to sink into the floor. “It’s not luck,” he mumbled, stabbing a piece of fried tofu like it had personally wronged him. “It’s just… a coincidence. And because people need to get lunch in the cafeteria, Mirio.”

“Coincidence, my butt,” Nejire said cheerfully. “You’ve got destiny written all over your faces. Ooh, she’s looking over here!”

“She’s not—”

But before Tamaki could finish, his eyes betrayed him. They flicked up, just for a second, and there you were—you, smiling politely at someone behind him, but your gaze brushed over him in the process. It wasn’t even intentional, but it was enough to send Tamaki’s stomach into freefall. He feels his throat go tight, hands suddenly clawing at the edge of the table as if it’ll take the nerves off.

“She smiled!” Nejire announced, pointing blatantly. 

“She wasn’t smiling at me!” Tamaki hissed, glancing around to make sure no one else had heard.

Mirio grinned. “Doesn’t matter—your face is redder than Kirishima’s hair.”

Tamaki hunched over his tray. “You’re both unbearable.”

They didn’t let up the entire meal, tossing out comments like “Maybe you should ask her if she likes aquarium hangouts” or “You’d make a cute couple, you know.” Tamaki wanted to tell them to stop, but part of him—traitorous and small—didn’t hate hearing it. A part of him still wanted to continue living in this harmless fantasy of his—because honestly, it wasn’t hurting anyone, plus he wasn’t making too many advances to rattle your comfortable, personal radar.

The next encounter was purely accidental. He was on his way to the training grounds when he rounded a corner too quickly and nearly collided with you.

“Ah—I—sorry!” he blurted, stepping back so fast he almost tripped over his own feet.

You blinked, then laughed—a genuine, carefree laugh that somehow made the hallway feel warmer. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I wasn’t paying attention either.”

Tamaki swallowed. 

“Uh—right. Yeah.” His brain scrambled for something else to say, but all it offered was static.

“Heading to training?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

“Y-yeah.” He nodded, gripping the strap of his bag like it was a lifeline. “You?”

“Library,” you answered. “I’ve got a project to finish. And an impending business report for the Club Fair.”

“Oh.” His mouth was dry. “That’s… good. I mean—not good that you have work, but… good tha—that you’re… doing it.”

There was a beat of silence. Tamaki wanted to disappear entirely. Because who the fuck says good that someone’s doing something they’re supposed to do? That sounded like something an idiot (him, he thinks) would say. But then, you smiled—not mocking, just amused—and said, “Well, good luck with training, Amajiki. I’ll see you around.”

He froze. You knew his name.

“You—uh—you too,” he stammered, immediately realizing “good luck” made no sense for library work.

You waved goodbye and walked off, leaving him glued in place. It took him a solid thirty seconds to move again, and even then his legs felt strangely light. By the time he made it to training, Nejire was already there—and she noticed his dazed expression in an instant.

“Ooooh, what happened?” she asked, bounding over. “You look like someone just gave you a valentine.”

“N-nothing happened.”

Mirio jogged over, grinning. “Let me guess—your girlfriend?”

Tamaki groaned. “You two are the worst.”

Nejire gasped dramatically. “So it was her!”

“I didn’t say—”

“You didn’t have to,” Mirio said with a wink. “It’s written all over your face.”

The teasing only got worse over the next week. Whenever you appeared in the same vicinity, Nejire would nudge him and whisper, “Your girlfriend’s here,” while Mirio would casually suggest Tamaki offer to carry your books or walk you to class. Tamaki disapproved of these ideas—because, hello? You two weren’t at that point of closeness where he had the courage to even ask for your socials.

One afternoon, Nejire all but shoved him in your direction at the vending machines.

“Oh, hey, Amajiki,” you greeted, already selecting your drink. “Long day?”

“Uh—yeah,” he said, shifting awkwardly, his legs feeling like jelly as he regained a bit of his composure. “Training was… tiring.”

“I bet.” You pulled your drink from the slot, then glanced at the row of selections. “Do you want anything? My treat.”

Tamaki blinked. “Oh—no, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind,” you said, already inserting another coin. “What do you like?”

He hesitated. “Uh… lemon tea?”

You pressed the button, and the can clunked into the slot. “Here.” You handed it over with a small smile.

Tamaki stared at the can like it was an ancient treasure. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you told him, sipping your own drink. “I’ll see you around? Maybe you can help me with Hero History for my paper next time.”

Next time?

There’ll be a next time after this escalated encounter?

Which God did he pray to for this blessing?

“Y-yeah,” he managed.

When you walked away, Tamaki stood there for a full minute before Nejire and Mirio emerged from behind the corner, both wearing identical grins.

“She bought you a drink,” Nejire sang. “That’s practically a confession.”

“Definitely a confession,” Mirio agreed. “You’re basically dating now.”

Tamaki’s face was on fire. “N-No.”

But even as they teased him all the way back to the dorms, Tamaki couldn’t help the small, secret smile tugging at his lips. For once, he didn’t mind their relentless commentary—because somewhere in the back of his mind, the thought kept echoing:

You knew his name. You talked to him. And you’d seek his help whenever you were in need?

Talk about playing hero.

And for someone like Tamaki, that was enough to make his heart race like he was still thirteen, falling in love for the first time.

It's another night of you and your lovely adeptus boyfriend. He's still not used to the title of that, especially when you run up to him muttering the words with a huge smile on your face. You've asked him if he's uncomfortable, that you can change the nickname up, that he can tell you if he doesn't like it— Before seeing the blush on his cheeks that he's trying very hard to hide. He'll say it's fine, avoiding your teasing gaze, not wanting to admit that he does like the name. Especially when it comes from your lips.

Another one of those nights of you laying in the grass, kicking your feet in the air while reading a book in the pale moonlight. Xiao is beside you, looking over the hill. It was calm and quiet. Occasionally, you could hear some bird making noise in the distance, but other than that, it was peaceful. You flip another page and smirk at a sentence.

Xiao has already moved his attention away from the fields, looking down at you now, watching your eyes move across the words on the page. He slightly furrows his eyebrows, deep in some thoughts. It's fascinating how you have so many sides to you. Just in the early morning of the same day, you had him against the wall, messily making out. And now you're giggling at a book you picked up from the library days prior.

He feels the same weird feeling in his stomach that he felt in the morning when you had your tongue down his throat. What was it? What is it? You two never went far. You guys started getting sort of intimate a few months ago, maybe. He was inexperienced. It all always was too much, making him light-headed. Even a slightly heavier make-out session was enough to make his knees buckle. He doesn't know if you've been with someone else before him... You do it so easily. You always take the lead. Is it because you've learned it with someone else or.. or...

Oh, how he wished he would be the first one.

"Xiao?" Your gentle voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and he meets your eyes. He stares at you for a moment before looking away, answering you with a simple 'What?'.

"You seem pretty deep in thought, something bothering you? Do you need to go already?" You ask him while sliding a bookmark on your page and closing the book. Xiao grunts, shaking his head, "No, I'm fine." You won't let that go. You sit up and scoot closer to him, leaning against his shoulder. He moves his head to the side so you can lay yours comfortably. Your two fingers do a walk on his leg, and you smile. "Xiaooo," you drag out his name, chuckling at the end, "Tell me what's up."

Xiao sighs in annoyance, looking away. You slide your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. He tenses up and slowly turns his head to look down at you. He's met with your eyes already staring at him. "Come onnn, you know I won't judge," you continue your sentence. Xiao stares at you with an annoyed look. Some silence passes, and he blinks a few times before looking away again.

"It's nothing, I've just been thinking... about us. About what we... do." He finally says, absentmindedly moving his thumb against your hand. You hum in a bit of confusion before straightening your back, and he looks at you when you do that, eyes slightly widening in some fear. You take both of his hands in yours and look at him, "That's what's bothering you? Am I going too fast? I'm really sorry. You shouldn't keep these things to yourself, honey." You speak, furrowing your eyebrows, slightly chewing on your lip. Have you really been pushing too hard on him? Well, it would make sense that it would be too much for him... But it's the first time that he's bringing this up. How long has he been thinking like this?

"Oh, what? No, no, I-" Xiao's eyes widen at your words, and he quickly shakes his head, sighing again, "No, you got it wrong. You're not doing anything wrong, [name]. I was just thinking that..." I want you. I need you. I need more.

He feels his cheeks start to burn at his own thoughts. How is he supposed to say it out loud?

You stare at him with a tilted head. You try to think of what he's trying to tell you right now and make sure you won't be getting anything wrong, that you won't be misunderstanding... but his blush is really telling.

A small grin tugs at your lips. "You were thinking?" He swallows, breaking eye contact to look to the side. It's not like him to feel all flustered, but you always manage to mess with his head. Never in a million years would he admit to needing you in a way that is incredibly strange, at least to him. Yet you're willing to listen, you're grinning. You have a hunch on what he could say, and it makes him feel embarrassed.

"...That maybe we could..." He starts, feeling his heartbeat quicken and his mouth go dry. How is this so hard to say out loud?

He breathes in and then slowly exhales. Quickly glancing to you, he sees your grin. He's not sure if he should continue looking at you or look away — what can save him from these feelings right now?

"Maybe we could do... something more?" Xiao finally continues after a moment of silence. The way he worded it made him feel hot, nervousness creeping in. He starts to think again, staring in your eyes, of what you're going to say. Then he feels you squeeze his hands, and he feels his heart slowly slowing down. You let out a quiet chuckle before responding, "Yeah, we can. How far do you want me to go? Will you tell me when we're there?" He sits there, blinking at you. You hear him mutter an 'um...' and he's glancing to the side again.

"It's okay. You'll tell me when you'll need to then," You reassure him and lean in to give him a quick kiss. He feels your lips for a second, but before he can do anything back, you've already pulled away, and he feels some disappointment. You put your head back on his shoulder, speaking up again, "Just tell me when you want to try something more, or you want it to just happen in one of our moments?"

He moves his hand away from yours and coughs into it, not being able to handle your questions. How are they working him up already? Guess he's just letting his mind wander far too easily...

You noticed. Of course you did, so you spoke on it. Moving your head again, you lean into his ear and whisper, "Or do you want to do it right now?"

He lets out a breath before swallowing. It doesn't take long for him to reply, shaking his head up and down to your question. You let out a small laugh and move away, moving into his lap instead. You take your hand away from his and put both of them on the sides of his face, letting one move down to his neck and go further into his soft hair.

He stares at you with wide eyes, breathing through his mouth. He can't hide his nervousness. Or was it excitement? Neither of you knew right now.

He's already leaning closer to you, glancing down to your lips and back up to your eyes, so you only do the same. You lean in and press your lips against his once again, and his hands freeze up for a moment, before he moves them to sit on your hips, gloved hands slightly digging into your clothing.

He kisses you back, letting his eyes close shut in the process. You move your lips against his, and you feel his mouth slightly part, and you take it as a chance to slide your tongue in. You move your thumb against his cheek while running your other hand through his hair. He sighs through his nose, kissing you back, slightly melting from it as you move your tongue. And he can't help, but imagine where else he could feel it..

His hands slightly tighten on your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. He needs you closer, closer... And you let him, shifting slightly in his lap so it's a bit more comfortable for you. And that's when you feel it.

You move your hand away from his hair and slowly run it down his neck to his chest, feeling his heart beat against it. Xiao makes a tiny sound when you move your hand further downwards over his stomach. You've always trailed your hand there, but it felt different this time. Probably because he said that the two of you could do something more, and you're moving towards said wish.

You smile against his mouth and pull away, earning a tiny whine from the man in front of you. His eyes widen as his own reaction, and he glances away. You tap his cheek with your thumb, and he looks back to your face. "Eyes on me," you whisper in a soft tone. The way he looks at you and the nod of his head makes your heart skip a beat. It was cute.

"You want me to go further, yeah?" You ask, and he nods again, not confident in his voice right now. You move your hand over his pants, slowly feeling him through the clothing, and you see his eyes slightly shutting before opening fully again. You're not doing a lot, just rubbing your hand up and down, feeling his dick pulse from your movements. Yet to him, it already feels a lot, but not enough. He tries to stay still, but as a small noise falls from his lips, he bucks his hips forward, trying to get more friction from your hand. You smile, and he stares back at you with pleading eyes.

In a quick movement, you pull your hand away, and he sighs at the loss. But you had other plans anyway. Using both of your hands, you push on his chest, making him fall down onto the grass beneath the two of you. Xiao watches your movements as he props himself up with his elbows, wondering what you've got in mind for him. He's met with your eyes that seem to have a dark glint within them. Your fingers hook onto his pants, and you're slowly pulling down his clothing, making him jump slightly. It wasn't that cold, but if you're showing lots of bare skin, it does send a few chills down your body.

The flush on his cheeks gets darker as he realizes just how excited he's got from you, but he doesn't dare to look away, no — he needs to see what you're going to do.

You don't make him wait, immediately moving your hand over his underwear, wrapping your hand around his hard-on. Slowly moving your hand, same motions as before, just with a slightly tighter grip. You move your head down and leave a small kiss at the top of his clothed dick and he pulses in your hand. Hearing his breathing get shaky already makes you only wonder - how is he going to sound when he actually feels you?

"[name], please..." You hear him quietly speak, letting out a breath right after, "Can you...?" You lid your eyes at him, asking with a smirk, "Can I what?" He balls his hands into fists, knowing very well that you were teasing him.

"Please, you know- you know what I mean.." He mumbles, slightly moving his hips. You let out a small laugh, nodding. You pull his underwear out of the way, further down his legs, and he shivers from the cool air hitting his dick, getting some goosebumps in the process.

Wrapping your fingers around him again, you feel his warmth on your palm. You let some of your spit fall on his dick and you start jerking him off. Xiao lets out a moan, immediately jumping at the sensation. You kiss his tip before leaning away and climbing on top of his body. One hand bent enough so you can still jack him off, you put your other hand on the grass next to him, so you wouldn't fall over. He's the one to kiss you first, already opening his mouth for you.

It doesn't take that long for him to already start moving his hips in the same motion as your hand, hands gripping at the grass and loud moans spilling in your mouth, getting swallowed down by you. From the way he's reacting and getting more desperate, you could tell he was close.

So you slowed down your hand, and oh boy, the disappointed moan he let out in your mouth made butterflies fly in your stomach.

You pulled away from his lips, and he opened his eyes to stare at you, confusement visible in his expression. "Why- why did you stop?" He asked, but then his question was answered once he saw you pulling down your own pants, along with your underwear. His mind doesn't process what's happening right now until you're towering over him again, rubbing his dick against yourself. That sends a spark through his body, and he whines, breathing heavily. And then you look at him.

"Is this okay?" You ask, teasing his tip with your fingers, and he only nods in response. "Can you say it out loud?" You tilt your head at him and watch him stutter. "I mean- Yes, it's fine- okay-" Xiao speaks, eyes darting between your face and his dick, "Please-"

And then you lowered yourself down on him, moving your hands on his chest. Xiao's breath gets caught in his throat, and he goes quiet, mouth agape. It was fairly easy to take him in since his reactions and noises always made you get wet. Still, it felt foreign since this is the first time both of you are going to enjoy each other. Your hands clutch onto his clothes as you let out a soft moan, fully sitting down on his lap. It felt nice.

Xiao, on the other hand, was digging his hands in the grass, plucking a few off the ground from the harsh grip. He lets out a strangled moan, chest rising from a few quick breaths. Oh, you were so warm, he was inside of you, oh dear Archons, he was inside of you. Holy fuck.

You move a hand up to cup his cheek, making him zone back into your eyes. In a gentle voice, you ask, "Are you alright?" He nods slowly, unable to form proper words. And you take that as your cue to start moving. Using the strength you had in your legs, you lift yourself off his lap, leaving the tip of his dick inside you, before moving back down, slightly hitting his stomach. Xiao groans, his eyes almost closing from the feeling.

"You- you're so warm... You feel so-" He chokes out, interrupting himself with a shaky breath, "So good, fuck." You smile and grip onto his clothing, riding him at a quicker pace now. Xiao's back arched, and he let out a gasp. His hands shot up to your waist, holding on for dear life as you moved up and down his dick, moaning in the process.

He can't stop his noises now, that's for sure.

"Fuck, ah, you're- fuck, you're so warm, gaH—!" He whines, digging his hands into your skin, "Please- please go f-faster, [name], please..." You lie down on his chest, pressing your head into the crook of his neck and did as he begged. Crashing your hips up and down, the sound of skin hitting skin, combining that with the pure pleasure... Xiao couldn't hold back. His head falls back against the grass and moans flow freely from his throat as he tries to calm down. He feels tears prick at his eyes and his fingers dig harder in your waist, toes curling against the ground.

It felt so, so fucking good.

And then you moaned in his ear, and his eyes shot open towards the night sky. You moved one hand under his shirt, trailing it up his chest as you continued your movements on his dick. Through your moans, you managed to let out some proper words. "You like that? That feels good, doesn't it?"

He tries to nod, but he can't move from the pleasure, pressing the back of his head down against the ground. "Yes, ah-! Yes, feels good, fuck, feels good, feels so, so fucking good- Please, please-"

He's not sure what he's begging for, but he needs it, and he wants it so bad. He sniffles, feeling tears leave his eyes. There's something building up inside him, and he needs that release, whatever it is — he needs you to free him.

Your lips meet his neck, teeth grazing his skin. Your hips slap against his stomach, the noise from your wetness making it sound so much louder. Both your moans are mixing together, yet Xiao's are so much louder than yours. He's already sensitive, but he does not want to pull away, he can't, he feels something, he doesn't know what it is, but he fucking needs it. And so he begs with tears falling down his cheeks.

"Please, fuck- Please, I need- I need to- Fuck, [name], please, I want to- Haah- [name], please—!" Xiao moans out, his hands digging harder, daring to leave bruises on your skin and you groan in response, biting down on his neck.

"Mhm, you can do it, come on-" You say, detaching from his neck and straightening your back, quickly moving your hips ups and down, feeling your legs starting to sting, "Make me proud, Xiao. You're- fuck, you're doing so, so good."

And that's enough to have him snap. His eyes shut close, pushing more tears out, and his head falls back again. His dick pulses in you and you smile, staring down at his fucked out face. Wet streaks illuminated by the moonlight. His tight grip on your hips slightly loosens as he cums, letting out a sharp gasp. You don't stop yet, still trying to reach your own high and he slightly trembles beneath you, letting out broken moans.

His eyes are blurry and his mouth is dry, his heart is racing and he's sensitive. When you finally lean down to his face, it takes a bit for him to focus in on you. "Xiao?" Your voice sounds slightly distant, followed by a small chuckle, "Did that feel good, baby boy?"

He feels a small smile tug at his lips. You cup his face in your hands and kiss him, thumb brushing away his tears. He kisses back with the energy he still has left, and he meets your eyes when you pull away. He looked so pretty in the moonlight. His face was messy, red eyeliner stains, wet streaks from his tears...

"Yeah," his voice feels sore, "It did."

Thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy the taste <3

His cock slides hot and heavy over your tongue, and the startled glkh!— that bursts out of you only makes his grin sharpen.

"There she is," he says, voice bright and almost clinical. "I gave you three opportunities to stop before it got to this point. You picked this."

You barely manage a sputter before he adjusts the collar again—SNAP!—tightening it to borderline cut off airflow.

His expression doesn't go cold so much as settle — as if he's arrived somewhere he expected to be. You glare up at him on instinct.

Heizou’s eyes lit up like you’d handed him a present.

"Oh, still brave," he murmurs, thumb brushing your lower lip with idle curiosity, like he's noting it down somewhere. "Predictable, but brave. Don't use your teeth, sweetheart. I already know you're thinking about it."

You don’t get to protest.

Before he slams his hips upward, seating himself deeper in your throat so fast your nose hits his skin. His cock nudges a place you're not ready for, your throat seizing around him as your vision spots.

glk!- glkh- glk 

Breath stuttering, lashes fluttering as he watches your throat struggle around him.

"T-there it is," he sighs, pleased in that infuriating, already-knew-it way he has. "Much more honest than whatever smart little comment you… were... hah… about to make. I clocked the exact wording, by the way. Would've been a good one."

You dig your nails into his thighs hard, a silent ‘go fuck yourself.’

The sound you make next — a humiliating, involuntary little choke — made you cringe… and him lose composure entirely.

Making Heizou moaned loudly, head tipping back, a low breathless "Ah–!" slipping out before he could catch it, olive eyes fluttering like your defiance knocked something loose in his chest he hadn't accounted for.

First thing he hadn't accounted for.

He stares back down at you, something flickering in his expression — recalculating. Then that grin returns, slower this time. More interested.

"Hm." His thumb drags your lip down, watching the spit string between skin. "You keep doing things I don't predict. Do you know how rare that is?"

Loosening the collar just enough for you to gasp—wrong move. Your pride flares, and you try to snap back, but all that comes out is a vibration against his cock, a choked mmph! that makes his hips jerk.

"Look at you," he says, catching a tear you didn't realize had fallen, holding it on his thumb like it's a clue. "Still fighting. Still dripping. And you think I can't tell which one you're more embarrassed about."

Then he's guiding your head back down—slow, but not merciful—letting his cock drag over every tender inch of your tongue while he keeps watching.

slrp!—mmph!—glk!

He follows the tremor in your thighs like a bloodhound.

Watches them press together, you pretending it's not happening. He clocked the exact moment your hips gave the smallest, traitorous twitch toward him.

"There it is.." quietly, to himself more than you, "You know~," he continues, tilting his head, "I wasn't planning to use more than one hand today. But you're so full of-” Then something warm slides between your knees. “-surprises.”

His foot.

The arch nudges your thighs apart, slow and so casual — like it's the obvious next logical step — exposing your soaked underwear to the cool air.

“Hm?” he coos, voice all faux-gentle mockery. "You're already this wet, and we're barely into the hypothesis." 

His thumb traces idle circles on the leather strap. "Your body keeps contradicting itself. That's going to be a problem for you."

You try to shake your head — trembling, furious denial — but the collar stops the motion dead. His foot presses in, slow and deliberate, rubbing just enough friction against your panties to make your breath stutter out through your nose.

"You look furious," Heizou observes, voice soft with something worse than mockery — genuine fascination. "You should see your own face right now. You're trying so hard."

Foot rubbing in that same terrifying precision he puts into everything — deliberate circles right against your soaked panties. The pressure is perfect — teasing your swollen clit through the thin fabric while his cock stays buried deep in your throat.

"Every single time I discipline you," shaft still buried deep in your throat, foot working you toward something you're desperately trying not to give him, "your body does this. I've noted it. I have a very thorough record."

You try to grumble around him, but it only comes out as a wet, vibrating mmph that makes his length twitch on your tongue. 

Heizou chuckles, low and delighted.

“Oh? You like that?” His foot moves faster, rubbing firm strokes up and down your dripping slit, toes curling to press right against your clit. “Look at you… trying so badly to glare at me while your pussy’s grinding against my foot like a desperate little whore.” 

The combination is too much.

Your moan vibrates wildly around his length as your orgasm crashes through you — humiliating, what's worse is that he doesn't even look surprised.

"Mhm." He watches you shake apart with the quiet satisfaction of someone whose theory was confirmed exactly on schedule. "Right on time."

Not giving you a second to recover, his hips chase his own high with the same focused efficiency he does everything else, collar keeping you exactly where the evidence requires you to be.

With a low, unraveling moan — the least composed sound he's made all night — Heizou buries himself deep and cums.

He holds you through every pulse, breathing hard, that careful control finally fraying at the edges.

When he finally pulls back, thumb smearing across your swollen lip, he looks down at you with something that isn't quite the grin from earlier.

More like the face he makes when he's solved something that actually took effort.

"Good girl." Soft. Sincere, almost. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead — unhurried, like punctuation. "You know what the most interesting part of all of this is?"

Oh god

He tilts your chin up. "You already know exactly why you keep ending up here. You just haven't admitted it to yourself yet."

Grinning, eyeing your trembling form. "I'll wait. I'm patient. I already know the answer."

He gives the collar one last gentle tug.

"Knick-knack.~"

🐊 KAZUHA — W.T.F.

“K-KAZUHA WHAT T-THE FUCKKK!—”

Your voice cracks–as he slams into you, deep-deep-deep, the force of it yanking your silk-bound wrists taut against the beam above. The ropes creak as your spine arches.

And Kazuha just watches, amber eyes half-lidded, like he’s admiring the way your body jolts with every thrust.

Fingers cave into your hips, digging past the surface, marking you obsessively. He drives home with a smoothness that shouldn't be this brutal, each roll of his body a new lesson in how much you can endure.

One thrust.

Two.

Counting the hitches in your chest, timing his pace to the exact second your breath fails you.

“You’re shaking,” he whispers, voice soft as a lullaby. His hips snap forward—hard—and your gasp catches high in your chest, stuck.

“Is it the bindings?...” His thumb strokes your inner thigh, gently. “Or losing your Vision?” 

He says it with a terrifying ease. He’d turned that stolen glass over in his palm earlier, eyes wide and worshiping, before tying you open and filling you. 

Your body bounces with every stroke, helpless. “Hahh—!” spills out when he drags you down harder, his grip tightening, fingertips pressing deep enough to leave marks.

The pace picks up—smooth, controlled, relentless—like he’s chasing the sound of your breath shattering. 

Plap! Plap! Plap!

The wet smack of skin on skin echoes across the water, obscene.

“Easy…” his breath is a warm ghost against your skin, but his weight is a solid, punishing reality stretching you open. “You keep tightening around me like this—”

A particularly vicious thrust punches the air straight out of your lungs, leaving you hollow. “—I might think you enjoy it.”

“I DON’T—” The words snap out, hot and immediate, but they lose their edge halfway.

Something is failing in the back of your skull. Your thoughts are sluggish, stalling, sinking into a gray fog.

Behind him, the box pulses with a weak, dying rhythm—your Pyro Vision guttering out, its fire turning to ash. You wrench your eyes away because the sight of your own fading ambition is a physical ache.

Kazuha grinds into you, a slow, cruel pressure right where your nerves are rawest, before driving up with a sudden, jarring force. 

“Nghh—FUCK—!” It spills out, unbidden. Kazuha just exhales a quiet laugh against your cheek.

You hate the scent of him—cedar and salt air.

Hate the softness of his hair, untouched by the violence of his hips.

Most of all, you hate the memory of the same hand currently bruising your hip, tucking a blanket around your shoulders this morning.

You were something precious then. 

Now, you’re just a prize.

The hate is there, but it’s slipping through your fingers, dissolving into the void where your Vision used to be.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice a low vibration in your ear as he thrusts deeper. Schlk…schlk…schlk filling you sends a forced heat racing up your spine. “-my songbird is one of a kind~.”

“KAZUHA I SWEAR TO ARCHONS-” But your voice cracks. The fury is a cavernous gap, feeling emptier by the second.

Another brutal snap of his hips makes your back arch, the beam above you groaning under the strain.

“I thought you’d want it like this,” puzzled, a quiet, private observation. He pouts—a look of pure, confused innocence—while his thumb traces a slow, heavy line up your clit. “You said I was always too soft.”

His shaft pulsed a deliberate, agonizing hesitation just to watch you squirm. 

“So I figured…” Another thrust, deeper, meaner. “…you’d like it rough.”

You try to muster up the strength to glare holes into him, but you could only whimper in despair at the effects of not having your vision increase.

Kazuha tilts his head slightly, watching the way your wrists strain against the ropes like you’re testing whether the knots might suddenly grow merciful.

“I’m sorry,” voice dropping, quieter. Almost apologetic, “it has to be like this.” 

The sorrow in his eyes is real. Genuine.

It changes absolutely nothing about the pace of his hips.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps, chest heaving as he adjusts his grip — one hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your leg higher, spreading you wider.

You can feel it…the hollowness spreads slowly through your limbs like something being gently, methodically unplugged.

"Kaz..." Your voice comes out smaller than you want it to. "Kazuha, you said…hah y-you always said–"

"I know what I said." He says it softly, watching your face with that unbearable attentiveness, like he's memorizing something. "I meant it. Every word." 

His hips roll forward, slow and thorough, and the sound that escapes you isn't angry at all. "I still mean it." 

"Tch then why–" 

"Because–" and here his composure cracks, "you were gunna to leave n' not come back- heh." fingers fondling your nipple, making you arch just perfectly into him as he pumps his thickened inches through every peak. 

"And- I found," he continues, breathless now, white hair falling across his face as he drives deeper, "that I believe in your freedom–" thrust "completely–" thrust "except for that." 

The boat sways, adding more force to his thrusts.

He chuckles darkly to himself, a tone you've never heard before. He swirls n' swirls his globular tip, the perfect rounded shape to press into your nerves. 

And somewhere in the growing heaviness behind your eyes, you're realizing horribly, humiliatingly... that your hips have started moving back to meet him. 

Kazuha notices it, his eyes going soft, reaching up to cup your cheek with a gentleness that has absolutely no friggin business being here right now. 

"See?" like he's been waiting this whole time to say it. "Isn't this better than leaving?" 

You don't answer, you can't tell anymore if the withdrawal is talking or something worse. 

He angled slightly – deeper, more deliberate – and your whole body lurches forward with it, the ropes catching you, swinging you right back onto him.

Sloppy sounds fill up the whole cabin until there's no room for anything else. Including your thoughts. 

They keep arriving slower now, holding more weight, and you're not sure if you can keep holding onto hate anymore. 

Or even remember why you were so upset in the first place.

He feels it immediately – the shift in you. Kazuha has always been terrifyingly good at reading things.

Wind.

Weather...The exact moment you're about to stop denying him. 

"Ah-" You gasp- he grinds into your poor, bruised g-spot. "I-i… m’still f-fuckin’ angryy–" 

"Of course," kissing up your neck, he inhaled deeply, smiling against you, "You're allowed to be." 

"That's not-" A whine punches out of you when he rolls his hips just so. "That's not what I– ngh– t-that's not the point!—" 

"Then what is my love?"

And you open your mouth to tell him. You have the answer…you know you do, it was right there a moment ago, something about how wrong this is, something about him taking your vision, something about how this isn't what you wanted. 

His shaft drags slowww and thoroughly across that spot inside you, and every single word dissolves. 

"Hm~?" Kazuha waits expectantly as the thoughts leave your face, morphing into something that isn't guilt anymore.

"It's alright." He presses a kiss to your temple. "You don't have to say it." 

…He's already decided, somewhere in that poetic, completely unwell little heart of his, that this is love. That this is the right thing, that you'll understand eventually. 

"Fuhck- ah! Kazu—" hips rolling back to meet him before you even register doing it—He shivers a single tremor moving through that carefully composed body, his breath catching audibly.

His rhythm stutters for just a fraction of a second. And then it happens — the thing he's been holding back since he tied you in the boats for days now.

"Y-you feel—" He stops, then tries again. "You feel so—" he really can't finish it. 

Those eyes have gone somewhere glassy and distant — still looking at you, but seeing something past the surface of you, something he's been navigating toward for a very long time-

Both arms wrapping around you, silk ropes and all, folding you into him like something he's been holding in his hands for years and is only now allowing himself to keep.

His cock pulses deep. His breath comes apart completely. 

"Don't leave," he moans into your hair, and it’s not a request or a command either. He’s already made up his mind and refuses to be argued with. “Don't leave. Don't leave. Don't—" 

Your mouth falls slack, and you bring what little energy you have to bite into your fist as you scream, cumming all over his shaft.

Your walls clenching around him, as a sound slipped out, one you're sure you’ll be embarrassed about later. 

Kazuha grunts, a hand jumping to his mouth, trying not to be loud.

Juices connecting you two, losing the careful rhythm entirely, and then he's shuddering against you, spilling deep, face buried in your neck, lips moving against your skin in something that might be your name or might be an unhinged poem or both. 

Your vision flickers once behind him…going out. 

…

The boat rocks gently in the silence that follows, his arms wrapped around you, holding you softly.

After a long moment, you hear him sigh. 

"Im sorry..." A pause. "I just thought this was kinder."

🐊 KINICH — Got his lick back

SMACK!

"AH—!"

The sharp crack of his palm against your ass echoes through the room like a hunter’s whip. 

Your cry breaks out raw and humiliating, but Kinich doesn’t give you a second to breathe. His hand stays glued to the stinging flesh, squeezing hard enough to feel the heat bloom under his fingers while his other hand slides between your slick thighs.

“Spread.” Flat. Commanding. No room for argument.

You don’t.

So he forces you anyway — two fingers pushing past your dripping folds, stretching you open with that terrifying precision, curling right against the soft, spongy spot that makes your vision spark white.

The second your hips jerk forward to escape, his fist locks into your hair and yanks you right back onto his lap like a leash.

“Already this wet?” A low, almost thoughtful hum leaves him as he pulls his fingers free.

A thick, glossy string of your slick stretches between your hole and his fingertip, catching the low light.

“Running again… but your pussy keeps begging me to stay.”

You try to snap something back — anything — but he’s already lining up. The flared, swollen head of his cock nudges against your entrance once, twice, then pushes in with one merciless slide that steals every word from your throat.

“F-fuck- Kinich-!”

He bottoms out in one smooth glide, stretching you wide around his thick length until you feel him pressing right against the entrance of your womb. 

Buried deep, letting your walls flutter and clench desperately around him while his breath ghosts hot against the back of your neck.

“You keep running,” he says quietly, almost thoughtfully, as he pulls back just enough to slam in again. The wet slap of skin on skin is filthy.

“Every time I tell you to stay. Every time you look at me like you’re already gone.”

SMACK!

Your body jerks hard at the next spank, a broken cry ripping from your throat.

Before you can crawl away, his arm hooks around your waist and hauls you right back down onto his cock, pinning you flat to the slick floor. The woven texture bites into your tits and stomach as he forces you to take every brutal inch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growls low, the first real crack in that calm tone. 

His hips snap forward harder, cockhead smacking mercilessly into your cunt with every precise thrust. “You’re not leaving Natlan. Not again.”

Smooth, deep rolls of his hips that drag his veiny length along every sensitive ridge inside you. Your voice climbs higher, cracking on whimpers you can’t swallow down.

Drool slips from the corner of your mouth onto the floor while your thighs shake violently.

“Kinich-! puhleaseeee- it’s too much—”

“It’s not.” Another punishing thrust. “You can take it. You will.”

His hand snakes underneath you, fingers finding your swollen clit. 

He pinches and rolls merciless little circles that have your walls clamping down around his cock like a vice. Your whole body seizes, pussy gushing slick down his length as he keeps fucking you through it.

“Don’t know why- Ngh-,” he rasps against your neck, voice fraying at the edges now, breath coming shorter. “Y’kept leaving me. Why ya- won’t stay put. ”

"Th-that's not— ah— that's not your problem!-"

"You made it my problem." A thrust that punches the air clean out of you. “So I found a solution. Gonna fill this tight little cunt until you’re swollen with my kid. Then you won’t have a choice.”

The words hit you like lightning. Your mind blanks for a second– “Wai-what—”

His cock swirls deep.

Pushing deeeep, his fingers pick up pace on your clit, dragging you toward something you've been denying this whole time, your walls fluttering desperately, your voice climbing so high it cracks—“No!- t-that’s genuinely insane!”

 "It isn’t." He held a small, satisfied smile.

"That’s not a solution, that’s literally—fuckkkk!"

But your body betrays you completely, cutting you off. Your walls flutter wildly around him, milking his cock as a devastating orgasm rips through you.

You came hard, screaming into the floor, tears streaming, thighs clamping shut around his hand while your pussy spasms and gushes.

Kinich groans low, the sound raw and animalistic, the first time that perfect hunter composure truly fractures.

His hips stutter once, twice, then he buries himself to the hilt with a sharp snap, pressing so deep you swear you feel him in your throat.

“HNGH!—”

Thick, hot ropes of cum flood your womb — pulse after heavy pulse, so much and so warm it spills out around his pulsing cock almost instantly, smearing sticky and obscene between your bodies.

Grinding deep through every wave, slow and deliberate, like he’s determined to push every drop as far inside you as physically possible. 

His arm stays locked tight around your middle, tattooed bicep flexing against your stomach, holding you exactly where he wants you.

“…Your body thinks it’s a perfect solution,” he breathes against your sweat-damp neck, voice hoarse but still terrifyingly calm. “Stop fighting it.”

You’re still shaking, still fluttering around his spent cock, when the reality crashes back in.

Tears prick hot at the corners of your eyes as you try to twist away from him, voice cracking with raw upset.

“No,” you choke out, voice hoarse and furious even while your pussy keeps weakly clenching around him like it’s trying to keep every drop he just gave you.

“I’m not getting pregnant. I’m not letting you trap me like this— you can’t just-  you can’t-”

He doesn’t pull out.

If anything, Kinich sinks a little deeper, grinding the head of his cock against your overfilled cervix like he’s sealing it. His lips brush the shell of your ear, calm as ever, but the grip on your waist tightens possessively.

“You already are,” he stares, almost fondly. “Or you will be. Soon.”

You pushed him off hard, “Like hell–”

.

.

🐊

A month later, the humid air inside the Scions of Canopys midwife’s hut feels too thick to breathe.

You’re sitting on the low mat, knees drawn tight together like that might somehow undo everything, while the older woman hums softly and presses careful fingers along your lower belly.

Nausea still clings to the back of your throat. Your breasts ache. Certain smells make you want to retch.

You already know what she’s going to say. 

Your captor behind you like a silent sentinel — arms loosely crossed, green-gold eyes half-lidded but missing nothing. 

The midwife finally sits back on her heels, expression unreadable for a long beat.

“Congratulations! You're expecting,” she says, no question in her voice, your stomach dropping.

“It seems you're a month along, oh! The baby is healthy…you would be due…” 

As the midwife drones on and on, pointing at the chart, you craned your head to glare at Kinich meeting his expectant gaze.

His expression, for once, was readable, and it only conveyed one thing:

‘You can deny it all you want, you’re stuck.’

🐊 LOHEN — Denial is a river

“LOHEN LET ME DOWN—YOU DONE LOST YO MIND.”  

You thrashed wildly, hanging upside down from the thick rope coiled tight around your ankle.

The world swayed in sickening circles, blood rushing straight to your head while your own heartbeat hammered in your ears.

Dignity? Gone. Long gone.

Meanwhile, Lohen was losing his shit.

Full-body, stomach-clenching laughter poured out of him as he bent over, one hand braced on his knee, as if he might actually collapse from how hilarious you were.

Red eyes squinted with pure delight, tears pricking at the corners while he wheezed.

“HA- holy shit!-” He dragged in a gasping breath, still grinning like a maniac. “You really walked straight into that one. Fuck, you’re adorable.~”

He finally straightened up and stalked closer, head tilted as he studied your flushed, upside-down face.

That manic little smile curled slowly and hungrily across his lips, one that promised nothing good.

“You actually thought you could escape me?” he cooed, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Cute. Real cute.”

You glared hard enough to burn holes through him.

Lohen only stepped even closer, until he was right in front of your swaying body.

Two fingers reached out and squished your cheeks together like you were some grumpy little creature he’d caught.

“Look at that face,~” he sang, eyes sparkling with pure unhinged joy.

You jerked your head and sank your teeth into his thumb — hard.

A low, genuine, filthy sound punched straight out of his chest. His eyes fluttered, lashes kissing his cheeks. 

You pulled back, staring at him in pure disgust and disbelief.

He stared right back, looking almost surprised at himself for half a second… before that wild grin crawled back onto his face, twice as wide.

“Fuck I think I just came a bit…Do that again.”

This fucking freak

His hand finds your face again - cradles it, almost, which was somehow more unsettling than if he'd gripped it.

Thumb pressing into your cheek while your head kept spinning, and the rope creaked above you.

“You’re turning such a pretty shade.~” voice soft and sweet like poison. “Wow, are ya really that happy I’m touching you?”

“YOU PSYCHOTIC LITTLE—”

“Mhm,” Lohen cut you off smoothly, not even listening. His eyes dragged over you slowly and warmly, completely shameless. “Most people would’ve seen the rope, y’know,” he said, like you weren’t literally hanging upside down from his trap.

“Well, most people aren’t being fucking hunted-”

“Nope.” His thumb traced the line of your jaw, gentle and obsessive all at once.

“Just you… ‘cause iiiii loooove yooouuu.~” He drew the words out in that obnoxious, singsong way that made your skin crawl and your stomach flip at the same time.

You rolled your eyes so hard it made you dizzy.

Lohen hummed, tilting his head as he watched you sway.

That dangerous little smile never left his face while he tapped one finger against his chin like he was thinking.

“Now~” he purred, smirk widening with wicked promise. 

“How should we fix that nasty little attitude of yours…?”

Fuck

.

.

🐊

“Cmon what are ya waitingggg forrr?” 

You’re straddling him, completely humiliated, his thick cock buried to the hilt inside you while he lounges back like he doesn’t have a single care in the world.

Hands tucked lazily behind his head, mint-green hair splayed wild across the grass, that damn beauty mark crinkling as he grins up at you with pure psychotic delight.

You’re not moving.

Not one fucking inch, half out of overstimulation, half out of pure spite. 

SMACK!

His palm cracks hard across your ass, the sharp sting making you jerk upward with a broken yelp.

The sudden movement drags your dripping walls along every veiny inch of him, Lohen moaning loud and shameless beneath you, biting his lips like he just tasted heaven.

“There ya gooo~” he coos, voice syrupy sweet with fake innocence. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I fuckin’ hate you—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs, low and wheezy, eyes sparkling as he tracks every furious twitch on your face. “You gonna move properly, or do I gotta smack that pretty ass red again?”

You barely move.

Slow. Grudging.

The most resentful little roll of your hips that’s ever existed.

Throwing his head back he bursts into loud, unhinged laughter. “HAHAAH— fuck, look at you! So madddd~ So fucking upset and still creaming all over my cock.”

“Are you deadass right now-? Of course I’m mad-!”

“Faster.”

“What—?”

“Faster,” he repeats helpfully, tilting his head with that manic little grin. “You’re going reeeaaally slow, baby. My dick’s getting bored.”

You’re going to kill him.

Fuck it.

You’re going to cum and then kill him.

But your cunt says otherwise, pussy fluttering and sucking greedily around his thick length, no matter how much you glare at him. 

Lohen’s eyes darken with hungry delight. He suddenly sits up, arms wrapping around your waist like steel bands, yanking you down flush against his chest.

Shaft grinding deep, bullying right against that spongy spot inside you that makes your vision spark white. 

“F—fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth, that primal edge slipping into his voice. “One more, yeah? Just one more f'me, pretty thing.” 

“Lohen, you’ve said that,” You batted your eyes, fighting the pleasure, “-for hours, lemme go!”

“Mmm, doesn’t sound like an answer,” he purrs, rolling his hips up in a filthy, precise way that makes your toes curl. “Doesn’t sound like you’re saying no to me.”

He doesn’t even wait for your reply.

His forearms hook under your thighs, spreading you wide open like a ragdoll as he starts rutting up into you harder.

Wet, sloppy sounds fill the air with every thrust — squelch-squelch-squelch — his cockhead kissing your cervix over and over like he’s trying to knock right through it.

“Hm? Hah- mmph!, seems like someone agrees with me.~” he laughs breathlessly against your ear, nipping at the shell with sharp teeth. “Your pussy’s the one begging for more. Greedy little thing keeps gulping me down like she never wants me to leave.~”

You try to squirm, try to plant your feet and lift off him even a little, but Lohen just tightens his grip and fucks up into you even meaner, bouncing you on his cock like you weigh nothing.

“Hahhh?? Running again~?” he tuts, voice mockingly sweet. “Nahhh, we still got s’much more rounds to go, baby. Five? Or is it six? I lost count already.” 

Your mind was blanking out; you've been doing this for so long, you couldn’t even form coherent sentences. “Fuh- no- mgh- I’m d-done!” 

"Your pussy's not done~."

“My- p-puhssy–! Don’t getta vote!” You shatter instantly — eyes rolling back, a broken scream ripping out of you as your sixth orgasm crashes through your exhausted body.

Lohen screams loudly while your walls milk him tight, but he doesn’t stop.

“Ohh-Fuck fuck fuck! Here’s ah!- another one, baby!-” Cumming hard with you, filling you up - he keeps thrusting through your high, chasing every last flutter like a man possessed.  

Thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your already overstuffed cunt.

“Mmm—hah, there it is,~” he moans happily, beauty mark crinkling as he grins against your sweat-slick neck. Mint-green hair sticks to his forehead, messy and wild. “Good girl. That wasn’t for you, though~ That was all for this pretty pussy of mine.”

You’re sobbing now, chest heaving, body twitching uncontrollably in his lap. But Lohen just keeps bouncing you on his still-hard cock, slow and filthy, like he could do this forever.

“And she’s telling me…” he drawls, voice sing-song dropping into something darker, more dangerous, lips brushing your ear, “that you can handle three more.♡”

You flop forward against his chest, boneless and whimpering, barely able to hold yourself up. “A-asshole… h-hate you…”

Lohen’s manic laughter rings in your ear as he flips you onto your back in one smooth motion, never once letting his cock slip out of your spasming heat.

“Keep fighting it, baby. Keep telling me how much you hate me.” He leans down, eyes glowing with lovesick affection as he starts pounding you into the grass. “Makes my dick so fucking hard when you lie like that.”

You cry out, nails raking down his back as he folds you nearly in half, knees pressed to your chest.

Every thrust is loud, messy, obscene — the constant squelch of his cum being fucked deeper into you, the slap of skin, your broken sobs mixing with his breathless laughter.

“Look at her,” he coos, glancing down between your bodies where his cock disappears into your puffy, cream-filled pussy. “Still sucking me in so hungrily. Seems like she doesn’t wanna let go, does she?”

“Stop- I can’t-!!”

“You can,” he laughs softly, leaning down to bite your bottom lip. “And you will. ‘Cause every time you say you’re done… this cute cunt just begs for more.”

Picking up speed, pounding you into the grass with relentless, mind-melting strokes. Staring straight into your tear-filled eyes, beauty mark crinkling with that same unhinged grin.

“Three more, f’me baby. Then maybe- maybe I’ll let ya rest.~” His hands push your legs up to your head, angling deeper, making your eyes roll. 

“Or maybe I’ll just keep going until you forget how to say the word ‘no’ at all.~”

🐊 LYNEY — Hole dirtier than laundry!

You're so sure you're going to fucking suffocate at this rate. 

Lyney’s perched on your face like he weighs nothing, knees planted on either side of your head in the middle of his messy bed, sheets already twisted and half-pulled off the mattress. 

That skimpy little lingerie set he’d been hiding under his coat all evening still clinging to his slender frame—purple lace stretched taut over his flushed cock, the thin strap of the thong shoved to the side so his pretty, leaking hole could sit right against your mouth.

The fabric’s soaked through already and so is he.

He’d wanted this for weeks. 

The filthy thought had lived rent-free in that pretty head of his ever since the first time you turned your face away from his goodnight kiss.

Then again, when you shoved his hand off your waist.

Then again, when you told him to “fuck off” like it was nothing. 

Every denial made it worse. 

He got nervous—actually nervous—thinking you’d hate it.

That you’d push him off and call him disgusting for wanting something so selfish, so greedy.

But tonight you’d denied him one too many times, pushed him away with that same cold little glare, and this was the perfect excuse.

Discipline 

Clean. Simple. 

He could finally do it and blame you for making him snap.

Except he's the one losing his breath — soft, shaky exhales spilling from those painted lips every time your tongue brushes against his rim. That carefully constructed composure dissolves, piece by piece, every time you move beneath him.

“Mmmh—!” He grinds down harder, your hands flailing against his thighs, nails digging into lace and soft skin. “Cat got your tongue, mon amour~?”

His voice is all theatrical breathiness, that signature charm cracking at the edges.

Shifting his weight just enough for you to gasp in a desperate breath, only to sink back down again — ass firmly planted on your face, rolling his hips in slow, filthy circles.

The wet heat of his hole drags over your lips, your tongue, smearing slick and lube everywhere.

The sound Lyney makes when you're forced to lick him is loud enough that the entire wing's probably filing a noise complaint right now. 

Ash-blond hair with that tiny braid falls messily around his face, violet eyes fluttering shut, cat-like pupils blown wide. 

“F-fuck… just like- that!—ngh!”

His slender fingers fist the sheets above your head, hips twitching every time your tongue pushes inside.

“D-didn’t think you’d be so… eager to clean me up after all those- ah! Nasty words you threw at me this week. You sure you didn’t want this?~”

He laughs breathless, a little unhinged—and the sound melts into another whimper when you suck on his rim trying to get air. 

The lingerie thong keeps slipping back into place, and he has to keep tugging it aside with shaky fingers, the lace now completely drenched. 

"Haah — look at you. Flailing around.~" Another slow grind, deliberate and mean, his cock twitching hard against the lace as it leaks onto his stomach. "But you're not pushing me off, are you? No… you're licking deeper. Mmph!~."

You thrash hard, punching at his thighs, trying to get this sick man off your face. He either mistakes it for enthusiasm or simply doesn't care — the effect is the same.

His thighs shake harder, athletic muscles flexing as he rides your tongue with more urgency. That guarded side is completely gone. 

Replaced by something rawer.

The need to be wanted so badly that it overrides everything else.

"Keep going, mon amour," he pants, voice pitching higher, "because if you stop — hngh — I swear I'll sit here until morning. Until you forget every nasty word you said to me… and only remember this."

His fingers thread into your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your face exactly where he wants it. 

Not until he’s satisfied. Not until you’re his again—completely.

He can feel it building — hot, coiling, dangerous. And he refuses to finish like this, not when he hasn't taken everything.

With a shaky laugh that doesn't quite hide the edge beneath it, Lyney finally lifts off your face — justttt enough for you to drag in a ragged breath, spit and slick smeared across your lips.

Lungs burning as you try to speak—“Lyney, wait—” and before you can get a single word out-

His cock impales your mouth in one smooth thrust—thick, leaking, stretching your lips wide around the base of his shaft. 

You choke instantly, eyes watering, the sudden fullness reducing every word you had to a wet gluck-gluck-gluck.

His thighs lock firmly beside your head. "Mmmph — there we go." He rocks into your throat with shallow, greedy thrusts, voice dropping as his face disappears between your thighs. "That's it. Let me feel how sorry you are."

Leaning down his tongue is immediate and merciless — lapping, sucking, flicking over your clit with a precision that feels almost unfair.

One hand grips your thigh hard enough to bruise. The other presses flat against your stomach, pinning you exactly where he wants you.

You push at his hips, a muffled protest vibrating around his length — he just rolls deeper, unhurried, his cock fucks your mouth in the same rhythm. 

The room echoes with the wet sounds of him thrusting into your throat, mixed with the slurps of his mouth on your cunt. 

"Don't- fight it, mon amour," he groans against your spreaded folds, the words vibrating straight into your core. "You don't get to push me away anymore. Not after all those mean words."

He sucks hard on your clit, hips stuttering as he holds back his own orgasm. "Not after telling me to leave like I'm nothing."

The lace thong is still tangled around his balls, rubbing against the bridge of your nose with every shallow thrust. His tongue curls, teasing your entrance before plunging inside—matching the way his cock bullies the back of your throat. 

Your moans of reluctant protest are drowned out by his cock, completely overstimulated by how much of him you're feeling at once.

Every thrust pushes him deeper, every swirl of his tongue makes your legs shake. Whimpering into your cunt, the sound vibrating through you, but the words that slip out between licks are pure silk-wrapped venom. 

"If I have to do this every night until you stop denying me—" A sharp suck on your clit. "—then I will." 

His cock throbs heavily on your tongue. "I'll keep you right here. Until the only thing you know how to do is stay."

You try to pull off—hands slapping at his hips, a broken sob ripping from your throat around his shaft—but he just angles deeper. 

The filthy gluck-gluck-gluck of him fucking your mouth fills your brain, your eyes streaming tears that mix with the spit dripping down your chin.

And he doesn’t stop, tongue lashes harder between your folds, sucking your clit into his mouth with a lewd pop! before flattening it again. 

Mean. Possessive. Trying to pull your orgasm out by force. 

Your thighs shake around his head, hips jerking up involuntarily as the pressure coils tighter-too much, too fast, too-

You cum with a shattered cry that vibrates straight down his cock.

Creamy slick gushes over his tongue, thighs clamping around his ears, and Lyney moans like he’s the one breaking. Holding himself right there on the edge—cock twitching wildly in your throat—until your walls start fluttering hard. 

“F-fuck—ngh, that’s it—give it to me-”

His cock pulses hard on your tongue, swelling thicker, and then he’s cumming too.

Rope after rope shoots straight down your throat, thick and hot, until you’re choking on it, coughing up his seed around the length still buried between your lips.

He doesn’t pull out. Just keeps shallow-thrusting through it, forcing you to swallow every drop while he drinks you down like he’s dying of thirst.

The room spins. Your lungs burn. Tears won’t stop. While Lyney stays there a second longer, chest heaving, hips still twitching with the aftershocks. 

Panting, he eased cock from your mouth with a slurp!

Strings of cum and spit connect your swollen lips to his tip. Lyney watches it break with half-lidded violet eyes, his cheek flushed red.

You’re still sobbing softly, chest heaving, when he finally flips around. He curls over you, pressing soft kisses to your tear-streaked cheeks, your trembling lips, like he didn’t just fuck your face and sit on you for "punishment". 

“Shhh… mon amour,” he whispers, voice sweet as sugar, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “See? Wasn’t so bad. You took me so well… my perfect little assistant.”

Lyney's fingers thread back into your hair, holding you there as he nuzzles against your neck. 

“You’re not going anywhere tonight.” A soft, theatrical little laugh brushes your ear.

“Or tomorrow.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, tasting himself on you. 

“Or ever.”

🐊 XIAO — Bite first. Regret later

BAM! 

"I'm leaving- ” The wall meets your back before you finish the sentence. “-Xiao. I mean it this–"

The impact rattled your teeth, your breath was punched clean out of your lungs, he was just across the room, teleporting in a haze of green and black, shoving you against the wall.

Another sharp gasp to follow when Xiao drove into you again, deeper, meaner, like he was trying to carve his place inside you permanently.

This is the problem.

This has always been the problem.

He doesn't talk to you, doesn't tell you he needs you, doesn't acknowledge what this even is, what you are to him — just pulls you close when it gets too heavy and expects that to be enough. 

Weeks of silence. 

Weeks of watching him look straight through you like you're something precious he refuses to name because naming it would make it real, and real things can be taken away.

You're exhausted.

Your legs stayed locked tight around his narrow waist, thighs trembling violently.

"I—" You push at his shoulders. He doesn't move. "Stop. I said I'm leaving—"

The only thing keeping you from sliding down the wall was his iron grip on your ass, fingers imprinting in so deep you knew they’d leave bruises shaped like his hands for days.

Xiao doesn’t respond, no words, or explanation — just eyes burning with determined focus

The tattoo on his arm bleeds green into the dark.

"Let me go." Flat. Furious. You dig your nails in hard. "I- ah!  Mean it! I'm n-not doing this anymore, I can't keep– pretending-!"

He looks at you.

Amber eyes completely unguarded for once — staring at you like you've already got one foot out the door and he's watching it happen and he still, still cannot make himself say the words that would fix it. Jaw locked tight, breathing ragged.

Hitting that little spot inside you, your whole argument stutters. "That's not—"

You try to hold onto the thread of it. "That's not good enough, you can't just — this doesn't fix anything—"

He drives deeper. Your back hits the wall harder.

"Xiao!"

Nothing.

Just that devastating eye contact and the brutal, relentless pace of him, he's decided if he can't say it, he'll just make you feel it instead.

Your nails rake down his arms. "Oh-! This is- fuck! Insane. Shit! Your hurtin!- You can't keep doing this and expect me to stay!-" You twist, trying to get leverage.

His hand wraps around your throat, forehead dropping to yours, eyes closing, and he stays there breathing hard while his hips find a slower, deeper angle that makes your vision dissolve at the edges. 

The weight of his karmic debt presses down on the room like a physical thing. Ozone and something older, darker, filling your lungs with every breath.

You're furious, shaking, and overwhelmed.

But believe it or not, he was terrified of hurting you.

And yet he couldn’t stop.

"Shit, what do you want from me!?"

Instead of answering, he just bites down on your throat instead. Sharp. Claiming. So suddenly, your whole body arches into him against every intention you had. 

A broken sound tears out of you—high and pathetic—and you immediately hate yourself for letting it slip.

Teeth sinking in harder, not enough to break skin but enough to mark, enough to own, and your cunt clenches around him so violently it makes him stutter.

Yanking you up higher, forcing your back to scrape against the wall, making you cry out in pain- as he drives in deeper.  

The anger frays at the edges where the pleasure keeps burning straight through—white-hot and unforgiving.

“I h-hate you-” you gasp. Not true. Completely not true, and you both know it.

“You’re so—” Another broken moan cuts you off, raw and humiliating. “Infuriating.” 

He makes a sound against your neck. Low. Pained. Even that tiny admission costs him something precious. 

Still nothing. 

You’re crying now—angry tears spilling hot and fast down your face, your body betraying you completely as he drives you up the wall again and again.

Each thrust shoves you higher toward something you don’t want to give him. 

“Please,” you break, hating how small and wrecked it comes out. “Please just say it. Tell me you need me. Tell me I’m—that I’m yours, that this means something, that you’re not just going to let me disappear one day and feel nothing—” His entire body goes rigid. 

Exhaling, his hand slides from your throat to cradle the back of your head.

His forehead presses so hard to yours it almost hurts, eyes squeezed shut, hips grinding deep and slow and devastatingly deliberate now.

Every roll of his hips drags his cock against that spot inside you that makes your toes curl and your vision spark white.

He still doesn’t say it, waiting for you to say exactly what he wants to hear.

Xiao pulls you in so tight you can’t tell where he ends, and you begin anymore. Your breast presses hard against his chest, breath coming in short gasps from how tight he’s holding you, bruises already beginning to bloom.

Maybe...

“I’m staying,” you whisper, defeated, wrecked, voice cracking on every syllable. “I-i’m yours. I’m not leaving. Just—don’t let go.”

The sound he makes is quiet.

Devastated and relieved in a way that breaks your heart a little. He comes with his face buried in your neck, shaking hard, one arm locked around your waist like even now he doesn’t trust you won’t vanish. 

Thick, hot ropes of cum flood you—spurt after spurt—while his teeth stay sunk into your throat, muffling the broken groan that vibrates against your skin.

He keeps rolling through it, slow and possessive, making sure every drop stays deep inside you. 

Afterward, the room is just breathing. Heavy. Sticky. Charged. Then, so quiet it barely exists:

“…Again.” 

Not another round, you know that.

He wants to hear it again—the words he can’t say himself, confirmed in your voice, real and present and not leaving.

“I’m yours, Xiao.” You press your lips to his temple, voice hoarse and trembling. “I’m staying.” 

His grip tightens instantly. Fingers digging back into your ass, cock still buried to the hilt and twitching inside you like it’s trying to root there forever.

Xiao still doesn’t say it back; you already know how he feels.

The dark, suffocating truth that settles in the quiet—in the iron grip of his arms and the door you both know he’d never let you reach—is that staying was never really your choice to make.

 It stopped being your choice a long time ago. 

…Some sick, exhausted piece of you doesn’t even want the choice anymore.

an: woah...denial is a river y’all ♡

♡ 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 ♡

Let’s be honest, he isn’t the most discreet when stalking you. You find his hair all over your things. You think it was done on purpose. And he also makes sure to leave little notes every where: under your bed, your pockets, the small zipper in your bag, even in your underwear drawer.

But how do you know it’s Pervert!Lohen, you ask? Well, who else would leave you letters with creepy undertones like:

“You looked so nice today, were you wearing a shorter skirt just for me? I could tell what color your panties were. You must know I stare.”

“I saw you tossing and turning when I came in your room last night. You were moaning too… I hope you were dreaming of me.”

“You’ve been buying more and more clothes recently, specially on bras and panties. Are they going missing? I mean, I can see why. They smell amazing.”

It’s disturbing how fast those notes accumulate over time. And how disturbing their contents are. You’ve tried to confront Pervert!Lohen once or twice, but he only looks at you with those big, red-blue eyes and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

“Hm?” His brows furrowed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” A pout forms on his pale face. It was a look of pity and regret. “Have you been getting enough sleep lately? You know, sometimes when we’re under a lot of stress, we lose tend to misplace things and see stuff thats not really-“

You cut him off, anger rising in your tone. You couldn’t believe he was gaslighting you!

“Don’t play dumb with me! I know you have been stalking me and taking my shit!”

Pervert!Lohen’s look of pity quickly morphed into one of amusement. His eyes narrowed as they bore into your very soul. “Why do you insist that I am your… secret admirer.”

You scoffed, “The word you’re looking for is ‘stalker.’”

He chuckles, “Fine then. Why do you think I am your ‘stalker?’” He puts up air quotes and you rolled your eyes.

But you stop yourself and actually think, you have no solid evidence against this man proving if he’s your stalker! What if you’re wrong and he’s actually innocent?

No, there’s no way he’s innocent.

Not with that look on his face, he’s probably enjoying watching you spiral.

You wish Pervert!Lohen’s strange behavior ends there, but it doesn’t. When you’re out and about In Mondstadt city, he is literally everywhere you cannot lose him for the life of you. Everywhere you turn you see his cursed turquoise hair.

It doesn’t matter if it’s the Angel’s Share, the Cathedral, the Statue, shit, even all the way out near The Dawn Winery — he’s everywhere. You’re fully convinced he embedded a tracker in your skin or something.

Pervert!Lohen is so touchy.

Every time he greets you he must be touching you somehow. The first few tines it’ll be a handshake, then a hand on your shoulder or arm, and now he’s hugging you with his hands caressing every curve and groove in your body. He yearns to touch more of you, but you back away before he has the chance.

The other day, you felt him shiver after inhaling deeply.

That freak.

Next thing you know, he’ll be leaning on for a kiss. Or something more.

Pervert!Lohen has cameras all over your home. He doesn’t make up an excuse as to why he does, he isn’t “trying to protect you” or “keep you safe” or anything like that. It’s simply because he finds you interesting. He’s never felt this way about anyone else, and he will figure out why you do what you do to him.

Well, at least that was the reason why. Initially, he thought you’d find his cameras and tell him off about them (because he put them in the most easy to notice places) but you didn’t.

Why?

Do you enjoy teasing him like this?

Or are you just as stupid as he thought?

As weird as it may sound, half of him wants to be found out. Pervert!Lohen wanted you to get mad at him, tell him he’s crazy and that you’ll never forgive him.

He squeezes his thighs together, the tent in his pants growing more visible by the second.

Maybe you’ll punish him if he’s lucky.

Although, he might be fine with you being oblivious. For now, at least.

He gets to watch you get dressed and undressed every day and night. He’ll stare in awe when he sees your body soaked after coming out of the shower. He’d replay the clip over and over in one hand while his other tends to the aching heat of his lower body.

It doesn’t take much to get Pervert!Lohen worked up.

Even if you just stand still for too long his mind would be racing with his lewd fantasies.

Out in public you would catch him eyeing your body up and down, like he was assessing you and your choice of clothing. Sometimes he would even make comments on it

“That top’s new. Don’t tell me you’re buying new clothes just for me to gawk at?”

“Why am I staring at you? No reason. I’m just… imagining something…”

Eerily enough, his comments would bring you back to those notes you’d find in your stuff.

There’s no way he isn’t your stalker.

Sitting at the bar of the Wet Wick? He’s draped himself over your body and is cuddling into your nape

Just succeeded at the smallest thing? He’s lifting you up and twirling you around

Just seeing you for the first or last time that day? Your both huddled up and swaying back and forth for at least 5 whole minutes

He’s blackout drunk? Will literally drag you around wherever with an arm around you

It irritates almost everyone around you but they don’t have the heart to say anything about it

You know except Vere, Mhin, and Ais probably-

The amount of times they’ve walked in on you two damn near molded into one, they lost count

“Should we let you two be so you can keep humping each other?” - Vere

Cue Leander’s embarrassed laughing

That still doesn’t stop him though

But in all honesty he loves the fact that you love hugs

Because that means he can be as affectionate as he wants with you :>

But it also means that whenever he’s sad mode he can just…flop into your arms and lay his head on your chest

Trust him when he says that no therapy can top the feeling of your arms wrapped around him while you gently rub his back

Will totally NOT use physical affection as a way to get what he wants

Please hug this man I can tell that he needs it

AIS

Whew boy…this one’s a doozy

He has the option to just hug you back and go about his day, but then again this is Ais we're talking about he refuses to NOT tease you

He see’s you running up to him, opened arms preparing to jump on him and he stands there, not doing a damn thing

He fully allows you to just tackle him and stand there with your arms around him

He stares down at you with that same smug grin

“Feeling touchy today, sparrow?”

Now just because he’s teasing you doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the hugs

In fact he l o v e s them

The rare days he actually does decide to reciprocate the affection he doesn’t let you go for as long as he can

He’s walking into the wet wick with your legs wrapped around his waist and arms on his shoulders, his hands sitting right underneath your butt securing you in his embrace

All everyone can do is just stare at him like “this fucking guy”

CUDDLE PILES WITH THE SOULLESS

Especially princess

The days where it’s extremely cold or he’s just feeling lovey dovey you’ll spend hours huddled up at the seaspring with princess laying across both of your laps and the rest of the soulless surrounding you

Like Leander, uses any possible reason to hug you like it’s the last time he’ll see you

Will walk up to you and lift you up with one arm to spin you around

Do not say your too heavy. He will challenge you on that

The last thing you hear before being lifted up is a raspy “come ‘er you”

The worse days where the voices of the hive mind are clouding any of his own thoughts and making him more loopy than usual, your arms is usually the first thing he seeks

Standing there for long periods of time, his body simply draping itself onto you, his head buried deep into your neck, all he needed was the feeling of your own arms around him, your face pressed against his chest

And just maybe if you listened close enough, you could hear what sounded like purring

KURAS

Hmm

Hmmmmm

I get the feeling that at first he would be caught off guard, not used to the feeling of someone clinging onto him so often

For some time he simply chuckles whenever you hug him and gives you a slightly awkward pat on the back before you pull away

But once he actually starts getting used to your affection, he’s more than happy to give it right back :>

Unlike the others who are fully prepared and have arms waiting for you, this tall man instead stands there with absolutely no intention of moving

He lets you run to him and pull him into a tight hold, paying no attention to what’s happening around him as he rests his hand on the small of your back, gently rubbing it

He never explicitly states that he loves or hates the hugs, but he does never pull away whenever you do it

If you happen to be at the clinic whenever he’s dealing with a patient and you wanted a hug he would tell you as gently as possible to wait a moment

“Give a minute would you my dear, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Very soft but very firm <3

Does not give a fuck if other people say something about your excessive hugging

He’ll give them a harsh side eye but otherwise say nothing about it 

If there is any chance he wants a hug back, he won’t directly say it, but he will make it known he wants one

Walks up to you and simply says “my love” before grabbing you by the hand to pull you close

It’s sudden, but that doesn’t make it any less wholesome

The kind of man to let you run up and hug him with all of your strength and simply continue the conversation he was having

Imagine one rare night he decides to bring out his wings and wraps them around you to add to the hug

Probably one of the few cases where he’s brought out his wings that wasn’t for “other” reasons

VERE

Wheeewwww all I have to say is, good luck

If you thought Ais was bad with the teasing, Vere will do you one better

The second you wrap your arms around him it’s like he’s programmed to bully you

“Aw well isn’t someone feeling needy.”

He’s not pulling away, but that doesn’t mean he’s shutting up lmao

The first time you did it, he simply stood there. Ears pressed down as his tail was fluffed up

He didn’t know what to do. I don’t think this guy has gotten a genuine hug before

His first instinct was to push you away, but he couldn’t find it in himself to do that. You weren’t attacking him or anything, you were just, embracing him?

Once you did pull away he replaced his initial shock with a smirk, using his pointer finger to lift your chin and ask if you wanted to touch him that badly

It takes him longer than Kuras to get used to your affection, he’s probably only used to being touched if it’s sex related unfortunately

Prefers if you gently wrap your arms around him instead of running up and practically jumping on him

He’ll be damned before he looks like a fool in public

Pray for whoever decides to be brave enough to comment on your hugging because it can go two ways

Vere says fuck it and kills them right there

Or he sends them so many passive aggressive comments they just walk away reevaluating their life

Only HE can bully you

Takes him forever to start coming to you for comfort hugs

It would have been at least some time after you’ve known each other

One day he just straight up drags you away from what your doing, making sure it was just you and him

He then proceeds to damn near suffocate you with his hold, but after a few seconds you hug him back, both of you locked in place, his tail wagging in pure glee

He tells you to pretend it never happened but you can see the way his tail sways whenever you hug him again

MHIN

In all honesty, they are probably the first one to actually push you away the first time you hug them

Not used to physical affection at ALL but also does not desire it

They didn’t mean to be so forceful when they pushed you, they just genuinely weren’t expecting you to be so…so

Affectionate?

So when you run up and jump on them one day after they just finished hunting soulless their all like “⁉️⁉️”

When you look at them with concern they just tsk and look away

“At least ask first.”

Is fully aware of your hugger tendencies they just…don’t know what to do with that

For some time you do ask first if it’s okay to hug them, and they say yes, but then they proceed to just stand there stiff as a board as you love on them

But if anyone dares to bring up your clinginess their quick to snap back at them

ESPECIALLY if it’s anyone besides Kuras

Even if they don’t show it, they do appreciate you being willing to be physically affectionate in anyway

Especially after so many years of them being convinced that no one could love a monster

Also prefers if you would gently hug them than run up, but also wouldn’t mind the second thing

If you do then they just blush and flick you on the head

Because I have a feeling that they are someone that you cannot sneak up on so there’s a good chance they heard you coming💔

After a while (like a few months) they eventually get used to your constant hugging, so if there’s ever a day where you aren’t wrapped around them then they are quick to wonder if your okay

We love soft Mhin

On the very rare days that Mhin ever seeks out your hugs for comfort, they make sure that they make it count

Like Vere, pulls you aside so it’s just the two of you and simply gives you a tight squeeze, with their hand resting on the back of your head

It’s been a busy night. Mhin’s started allowing you on their nightly patrols, or more accurately, stopped complaining when you showed up. But that might change after tonight. It’s not your fault, Mhin must have done something new with their hair, maybe got it cut or changed shampoos, they almost seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. You swear you were trying to pay attention to your surroundings, but every time you weren’t looking at them, you would see, out of the corner of your eye, the moonlight hitting them in such a way that it would be a crime not to stop and admire them. This lack of situational awareness resulted in an unexpected soulless attack and an upset Mhin. After enduring a harsh lecture that mentioned something about lacking brain cells and them leaving you behind as a soulless snack, Mhin proceeded to give you the silent treatment as you both made your way back to their dwelling. You would’ve thought that they were genuinely upset and wanted to be left alone if only they didn’t keep glancing behind them every few minutes to make sure you were still following safely behind them.

You’ve been to the place closest to what they would call a home a few times. It’s a small house squeezed between two larger buildings. Every time you’ve been there, you've nearly walked right past it due to it almost becoming invisible, overshadowed by its surrounding houses. Maybe that’s why they chose it as a place to call home, unnoticed and ignored, the perfect combination for privacy and silence. Mhin walks up to the door and pulls a brass key, embedded with intricate designs, from their cloak, unlocking it and leaving the door open as a silent invitation to enter. You’ve been here enough times to have an understanding of their routines when they get home. You quietly shut the door behind you and latch the various locks they've installed.

Inside their house is extremely minimalistic. Although calling it a house would probably be overzealous, it’s more like a small room. Walking from the entrance to the back wall can’t be more than ten steps. Inside contains just their basic necessities, lacking any decor, unless you count the books and scraps of medical supplies scattered around as decor. Their home consists of a small bed, a kitchenette, and a table that previously only had one chair, but a second one appeared after your first few visits. Mhin refuses to acknowledge this mysteriously appearing chair.

Upon entering their home, Mhin walks over to their kitchen, silently grabbing a kettle to brew some tea. Opening one of the small cupboards to pull out a small tin container, they told you that they have a small collection of different tea leaf blends that they occasionally find in the market. There was one night you managed to get them talking, and they revealed that they chose which one to try based on their mood. You always wondered what they drank when they were angry. You suppose today is the day you find out. The energy is still tense in the room; they're still upset that you managed to put yourself in danger, albeit without injury due to Mhin’s intervention. You decide the possibility of relighting their anger is better than sitting in the deafeningly silent room any longer..

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, quietly taking a seat at the table and keeping your head down, staring at your clasped hands in your lap. The clinking of cups and the crackling of fire that will soon be boiling the water in the kettle is the only response you get. You let the silence settle over the room again before trying once more.

“You were right, my negligence not only put me in danger, but also put you in harm's way.” You continue confessing your mistakes, hoping for their forgiveness or at least a response. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

They still don’t respond, but you hear the fire in their oven being put out and the sound of water being poured out of a kettle. Their footsteps approaching the table cause you to raise your head and finally look at them. They place one of the cups in front of you while taking their seat at the table. Despite them avoiding eye contact with you, lost in the cacophony of thoughts racing through their mind, you can tell they don’t seem angry; their face, almost neutral. That is, until you just barely see a minuscule muscle in their jaw start to tense. Without them telling you what they want from you, you’re left to guess. Maybe they’re tired. Maybe their still wired from the fight. Or maybe, just maybe, they were worried about you. Without Mhin giving you any more hints, you’re left to continue trying to guess the infinite things that could be running through their mind.

“How did you learn how to fight soulless?” you ask in the hope they’ll take the bait of conversation. Lucky for you, this question manages to make them finally make eye contact with you. They expected you to continue apologizing; a small part of them was wondering if you would start begging for their forgiveness. An even smaller part of Mhin was wondering if they would enjoy hearing you beg. You switching the conversation was just enough of a shock to pull them from their silent act.

“Practice,” Mhin says, leaning back in their chair, taking a sip of their tea, “I had to learn or else I wouldn’t survive.”

“Maybe you could teach me? Just in case you're not there next time,” you propose, mimicking their movements and taking a sip from your cup. Before the cup can even reach your lips, your nose is invaded by a strong, spicy, earthy smell. Cinnamon. You figured that with them being in a sour mood and being fresh from a fight, they would’ve chosen a more relaxing blend, maybe some chamomile or lavender. As it hits your tongue, the warmth begins to spread across your mouth, the spice of the cinnamon biting at parts of your tongue before you swallow. As the auburn liquid travels down your throat, the warmth begins to spread across your chest and leaves a soft warmth on your cheeks.

“Hmm, that's not a terrible idea, maybe learning something would help you stop being so idiotic,” they chide, drinking the rest of their cup before standing up from their seat.

You watch Mhin slowly make their way around the table, your eyes following their every move, before they stand behind your chair, resting their hand on the backrest. Their hand rises, thumb making gentle contact with your cheek. Your breath releases with a shudder, hands gripped tight around your cup. Their hand rotates to run the tips of their fingers over your cheekbone, guiding the stray strand of hair behind your ear. Mhin’s fingers drag, featherlight, down the side of your neck. Your head naturally tilting to give them as much surface as they desire. Until the gentleness suddenly leaves them, both hands find your neck and with a firm, but not painful grasp around the back of your neck, they force your chin to your chest. You feel them bring their thumbs dragging up your spinal cord. You let out a surprised gasp as they bring their thumbs up to the base of the skull, searching for something, but you’re not sure what.

“Do you feel this spot right here?” They massage their thumbs into the spot to accent their words. You know their fingers resting against the column of your throat can feel the swallow you take before you're able to croak out a response. 

“Y-yes.” You manage to get out through almost gritted teeth. Mhin slides their fingers resting on your throat to the side of your neck and gently presses them into your skin, checking your heart rate. Checking to see if it’s beating just as fast as theirs is.

“This spot connects the brainstem to the spinal cord,” they instruct, while you feel the heavy blush that has been creeping over your face manage to get deeper. Their calm, confident tone they take when teaching does not make it easy to focus. Especially when your mind keeps wandering to the other activities their hands, currently around your throat, might be suited for, “severing that connection will immediately kill any creature.”

“Okay,” You mutter, eyes not being able to focus since every nerve is focused on Mhin’s firm grasp on your nape and neck.

“Stand up,” Mhin commands, quickly withdrawing their hands from your neck and stepping away from your chair.

Obeying their command, you quickly, without sparing a single thought, slide out of your chair and face them. Eagerly waiting for their next touch. Finally able to look at Mhin again, you see them remove the bracers around their arms and roll up their sleeves, revealing their forearms.

“Every creature has almost the same weak points, their heart and their brain being the most important,” Mhin instructs. 

They seem more confident than you’ve ever seen them, like they're finding comfort in reciting their knowledge. And throughout your time knowing Mhin, although all parts of them are attractive, there’s something about confident Mhin that makes your heart rate spike.

“Maybe I should start with basic anatomy…” You barely manage to hear them mutter under their breath, trying to decide the best starting point for their lesson. Nodding to themself, they turn to you and begin to speak. “We’ll start with basic muscles and muscle groups. There are numerous benefits to understanding this basic part of anatomy. The muscles are made of thousands of small fibers woven together-”

You raise your hand to interrupt them before they get too far into their lesson, ”Wait, wait, wait, why are we starting with muscles? Isn’t this supposed to be for self-defense and killing soulless?” 

Jutting their lips and raising one of their brows, not happy about the interruption. With a sigh, they make a proposition, “Instead of telling you, why don’t I just show you,” they say, bringing their left foot behind them and twisting their body with it, getting into a fighting stance, “try to hit me.”

“Wha-What?” You question in utter disbelief, this was not how you saw this conversation going. You start to wonder if you heard them wrong, but your eyes only confirm what they said. 

“What are you worried about? It’s not like you’ll actually land a hit.” They say, with a ghost of a smirk on their lips. It’s almost as if they enjoy your confusion.

Their confidence calms your nerves; you know where Kuras’s clinic is, in case this goes wrong. With a final deep breath to push away the last of your nerves that scream at you to stop, you pull your fist back and throw your best punch. Mhin blocks the blow, pushing your hand out of its path while grabbing your wrist and side-stepping behind your back. Using their free hand, they place their hand on the back of your upper arm, twisting and pushing down with almost minimal effort. This movement, paired with their other hand around your wrist pulling it behind you, causes you to drop one knee to the ground. Using this momentum, you manage to break free of their grasp; it’s more likely they let you get out, but you’re willing to take a win where you can get them. You quickly stand up to continue your little spar, but before you can even turn around, you feel one of their arms wrap around your throat and their other arm caging in the back of your head, putting you in a chokehold. You attempt to grab their hands to try and pry them off, but your hands freeze as their grip tightens, resulting in their body pressing firmly against you. You can feel their arms hugging around your throat, their elbow tightens just right around your neck where you're not in any real danger, but your head starts to feel lighter for a variety of reasons. Mhin’s body is just barely a breath of distance away from yours, but every once in a while, you can feel the bite of their belt buckle dig into your back.

“This is why you’re learning anatomy,” Mhin whispers into your ear. Their breath tickles your ear, and you feel your face start to flush. Your entire body feels like pure fire runs through your veins. Every time your own clothes brush against your skin, it feels like an unbearable punishment.

You’ve felt arousal before, but nothing like this. This is punishing, like being stuck in a desert and looking at a glass of water you can’t even touch. Mhin might tolerate your presence for now, but you never know when the wind will change. And from what you know of them, it will change. You might wake up one day and have them decide that they’re tired of saving you… It might be better to avoid getting any more attached to them, but like a dog whining for a sweet piece of chocolate, you never stop wanting something that could kill you.

With a small huff of laughter that sends shivers over the skin it brushes over, Mhin releases you. You take a moment to try and compose yourself, knowing without a doubt that Mhin’s going to start their lesson, and your brain's still stuck, balanced between the dichotomy of wanting to taste every inch of them and to run away from possible future heartbreak.

Their words are a garbled mess of empty static in your ear as they begin to lecture again. You hear them mention something about muscles and the different uses they have, but your brain is so muddled with thoughts that their lecture becomes background music for your internal musing. You’re keeping your back to them as they keep talking, knowing that if you were facing their direction, they would be able to see your empty stare and blush immediately.

Their footsteps starting to approach your form cause you to finally manage to escape from your thoughts long enough to listen to their words. “There are some areas of the body where the nerves in the muscles are more sensitive; using these sensitive areas, you can create a distraction,” Mhin lectures. 

“These areas are typically on the feet, neck, underarms, …” When you feel their presence at your back, their sentence starts to trail off. Suddenly, you feel their hands ghost over your mid back. Your hands jump back, preparing to grab their hands. The new access to your sides allows them to slide their hands around your waist, stopping at the bottom of your ribcage below your chest. “And the ribcage,” they say, dropping their voice into a whisper that ghosts over your ear.

“It’s rude not to listen when someone’s talking to you.” Mhin chastises, their hands slowly starting to creep upwards, causing your back to arch, pushing your chest forwards, ”especially when you asked them to teach you.”

“I apologize.” You manage to say with a shuddering breath. You bite your lips together in a futile attempt to steady your breath. You squeeze your legs together to add some sort of friction to the parts of your body that are growing the most needy.

“I don’t think you are,” they say, pressing their body into you, maneuvering their head to the side of yours, brushing their lips to your ear as they continue their sentence. “Maybe I should try another way of teaching you, a lecture is obviously not working. Maybe a more… physical demonstration will help you finally listen.”

Their grip on your body shifts, their left hand moves to have a firm hold on the side of your waist to stop you from moving, while the right flattens and the fingers spread against your stomach. Your hands hover to the sides of your body, frozen in shock at their intimate touch and their close proximity.

“This is called the rectus abdominis,” they mutter into your ear. Their hand slides down to your lower stomach, the tips of their fingers lying on top of your pelvis. “This muscle assists with movements between the pelvis,” They say, punctuating their words by applying pressure where their hand rests. Dragging their hand up your torso, stopping just under your breast, their hand perfectly framing it, thumb resting in the valley between both breasts. “ and the ribs,” They finish.

As their hand slowly slides, checking to see if you show any signs of discomfort, before finally cupping your left breast. The feeling of their hand slowly kneading your chest and their fingers teasing your nipple through your clothes, you can’t help but let out various whimpers and squirm, causing their left hand to squeeze your hips even further, keeping you pressed into them.

“This is where your pectoralis major is located,” Mhin breathily whispers, pressing their nose to your shoulder, muffling their words, “its main functions are keeping the arms attached and allowing movement in the humerus bone.”

The only response you can give is whimpers, moans, and the muttering of their name like your personal mantra. Mhin pulls away from your chest, pulling a groan of protest from you. But, before you can miss their touch for long, they quickly guide you to rotate your body, facing them. Finally able to see them, you see that their face is coated red with a deep flush, their eyes are half-lidded and staring deeply into yours, and their lips are parted, allowing their quick, shallow breaths an escape. They place their hands on your jaw and pull you close before kissing you, surprisingly gently when compared to their previous actions. Their lips pressed firmly against yours, but not making any attempts to deepen the kiss. That is, until they break away briefly to grab a breath of air, before quickly bringing their lips to yours. Their right hand slides to the back of your head, getting lost in the strands as their left hand drops to your hip, pulling you tighter against them. You make quick work of their hair tie, throwing it in the direction you assume the table is, allowing their snowy locks to fall over their shoulders. One hand gets lost in their hair with the occasional tug that earns you a muffled groan from Mhin, the other exploring their back, grabbing tightly to their shirt. As their kisses start to get more feverish and greedy, you find Mhin walking forward, pushing you backwards, forcing you to walk until your knees hit the edge of their bed. Before you can fall back on their bed, they grab your waist to keep you upright, breaking their heated kisses to take your shirt and start to tug it upwards, telling you what they want without saying a word. You tear your hands away from their body to pull the offending garment over your head. You attempt to take off your pants as well, but before you can get further than one button, Mhin gets impatient and pushes you onto their bed. 

You attempt to push yourself onto your elbows to look at them, but before you can, Mhin parts your knees, crawling onto the bed, and hovers above you. Their hands start to explore your newly exposed skin while their lips start to kiss and mark your neck. Every fear you felt before has instantly vanished. The feeling of their lips brushing against your neck starts to feel more vital to your well-being than even the air you're breathing. You’re hands lacing in their hair and your legs wrapping around their hips, squeezing around them, encourage them to continue. After their lips bite on a sensitive part of your neck and their thumb brushes over your hardening nipple, your hips involuntarily buck into Mhin’s. One of their hands drops down to your hips as they start to roll their hips into yours. After marking your neck to what they deem an acceptable amount, they start to kiss past your clavicle towards your right breast.

 You’ve long lost your ability to make a cohesive sentence, barely able to say Mhin’s name, followed by a variety of curse words and grunts. As Mhin’s lips finally make contact with your nipple, you let out a surprised hiss and groan, your hands jumping to hold their shoulders. They freeze. Mouth disconnecting from your skin, hands moving to the bed next to you, hips moving away from yours, stopping all friction. Mhin looks up at your face, eyes wide and jumping over every feature of your face.

“Did I hurt you? Was it too much? Do you want me to stop?” They bombard you with questions, misunderstanding your cry of pleasure as cries of pain. You quickly reply with a shake of your head, hands gently holding onto the front of their shirt. Their hands slowly move to gently cradle your face.

“Are you sure you’re okay to continue?” They say with their eyes still looking into yours, searching for anything telling them to stop. You manage a small nod against their hands. They close their eyes and gently lean their head until your foreheads are resting against each other.

“I need to hear you say it… that you’re okay… please?” they implore, voice slowly trailing off. You feel a slight tremor in their hands, were they just that worked up from your heated touch, or maybe they were just that scared that they had hurt you. Swallowing the saliva building up in your throat and taking a deep breath, you manage to find your voice.

“I’m okay, I promise. Please don’t stop.” You beg. Taking a deep breath, fully processing your words and pushing away the last of their fears, Mhin slowly leans away from you. They look into your eyes before dropping them to your lips, leaning back in for another quick kiss.

“Good. I got… distracted,” They pause searching for the right words before continuing, “but now I can continue our lesson.” They say with a sly smile fueled with newly renewed confidence, knowing you want this as much as they do.

Mhin brings their lips down to your again before breaking away to linger kisses along your jaw and neck before stopping at your chest. Leaving soft kisses against each breast before dragging their tongue over your nipple. They continue to kiss their way down your stomach, they slowly bring their knees to the floor, kneeling before the bed as they loop their finger into the waist of your pants, slowly pulling them off. As their lips greet the new skin being revealed, stopping at the band of your undergarments, their hands run over the skin of your legs, squeezing the upper thighs before running their hands back down your legs. Your head rolls back in the anticipation of their next move, hand resting on their head thats pressing kisses to the band of your undergarments. 

They give a soft kiss to the mound covered by your underwear before looking up at you, silently asking if you’re ready. The nod you give is all they need before hooking their fingers into the waistband and finally revealing the entirety of your body to them. Seeing them take a deep breath through their nose and lick their lips in anticipation while staring at the last piece of your body they have yet to touch, to taste, causes your legs to reflexively close. Their hands catch your knees before you can hide their newly found treasure from them. Mhin’s glossy half half-lidded eyes catch yours and hold your gaze while they push your knees apart and slot themself between them. You can feel your slick, the evidence of your arousal, coating your lower lips and upper thighs. The breath Mhin releases near your aching core cools the liquid releasing in anticipation for whatever they give you next, the contrast between the almost unbearable heat from your aching desire and the cooling arousal making your eyes squeeze shut and your back arch in pure pleasure. Their hands slowly slide from your knees, traveling up your thighs, every inch their hands get closer to your core, you feel coils in your stomach tighten in anticipation of the relief only they can provide. Their hands stop at the point where your hips and thighs meet, sliding their hands into your inner thighs. Their thumb gently presses onto your lips, gathering your arousal before dragging it up your slit, teasing but not venturing any further yet. Their voice breaks you out of your haze of pleasure, pulling your head up only to look at them.

“This,” Mhin starts, gaze fixed on their ministration as they continue their previously forgotten lesson, they swallow the saliva pooling in their mouth before continuing, “is your labia majora, it protects the sensitive and fragile parts of the female anatomy.”

They finally press their thumb past your folds, dipping down to your entrance, gathering even more of your arousal. You can’t help the moans escaping from your mouth, finally fulfilling the dreams you thought you’d only be able to live while asleep, your hand slaps over your mouth in feeble attempts to quiet your cries of pleasure. The moment Mhin hears your noises become muffled their eyes shoot up to your face. As soon as they see your efforts to quiet down, they pull their hands away, crawling up the bed, hovering over you, and grabbing your wrist.

“Don’t-,” Their eyes look anywhere but your face, suddenly embarrassed with what they were going to say, “Don’t… do that. Hearing you lets me know you enjoy what I’m doing.”

They release your wrist, eyes looking into yours as a silent plea. Instead of a verbal response, you gently bring your hands up to Mhin’s face, cradling their cheeks. They tilt their face further into the palm of your right hand, you pull yourself up to them, and bring your lips to theirs. The kiss didn’t last long, but it was sweet, almost innocent, a jarringly different type of kiss you thought you’d have lying naked underneath someone. They pull back from you with a small smile gracing their face. They're amazed that, despite being cursed and constantly being at threat of soulless attacks, they can find solace and joy in you. They steal a few more kisses from your lips before they crawl back, settling into their previous position between your thighs. Before you can even lean back to enjoy whatever pleasure they plan on bringing you, their tongue delvies between your lower lips sliding from your slick hole to your throbbing clit. 

Your hands instinctively jump towards their head, wanting something from Mhin to hold on to. Mhin continues to leave kisses on your clit, while their hands rub and squeeze your thighs encasing their head. At some point they start to lecture again between kisses and light sucks, but the blood rushing to your head and your moans drown out their voice. They keep making out with your second pair of lips, at one point adding their hand to further add more stimulation to your dripping hole. As the pressure in your stomach starts to build, the only thing you're able to say is their name on repeat. With the encouragement of your almost pleading moans, Mhin seems to get more confident and determined, their lips wrapped around your clit seeming to barely pull themself away to even take a breath, their fingers deep inside you finding and abusing the spot that has you seeing stars, and their unoccupied hand moving to hold your bucking hips with a strength you tend to forget about. As the pressure building in your stomach finally snaps, your hands tighten around Mhin’s hair below you, your eyes are squeezed closed as your head throws back in a silent scream, and your body stops bucking and twitching as your muscles suddenly contract. Despite bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm that makes you worried you’ll never feel satisfied without their help, Mhin still hasn’t pulled their lips from you or stopped their fingers from stretching and pumping from your spasming hole. The drawn-out pleasure that they keep pulling from you feels like pure ecstasy as you feel the sheets start to get soaked beneath you. When the feeling of their touch starts to become too much, you glance between your thighs to catch the sight of Mhin pulling away from you before they bring their hand to their lips, licking them clean.

“MC.” Mhin says your name, standing up to grip your chin, forcing you to look right at them, stealing a kiss before continuing their sentence, “What all do you remember from our lesson?”

Your eyes widen, trying to glance at anything but them, which proves difficult as their hand is still forcing you to look at them, you try to rack your mind, trying to remember anything they taught you tonight. You’re mind is only filled with images of them between your thighs and the sensation of their lips on yours. If you weren’t fresh from an orgasm, you might’ve been able to forge a response that would’ve appeased them. Unfortunately, or rather extremely fortunately, your legs are still twitching from the pleasure they just ripped from you. Your only response to their questions is a variety of stuttering apologies as they look down at you in faux disappointment.

You tell him you got bored one day and decided to teach yourself how to do it

He nods, shooting down the rest of his glass before almost slamming it back on the counter

He's trying so hard not to ask what else can you do with your mouth

Picking up on his flushed state, you giggle and grab the stem from the cherry that was sitting in the empty glass, waving it around for a moment before putting it in your mouth

His eyes were glued to you, watching closely as you maneuvered the stem around your mouth slowly, occasionally opening it to show him exactly what you were doing with your tongue

After a moment, you pull it out, setting it right next to the first one you made

You both sit in silence for some time, the only thing being heard are the conversations echoing around the wet wick

Cue the barkeep also staring at you both in utter disbelief

"Damn kids these days-"

"Sooo, do you wanna get another drink?-"

He cut off your words by throwing you over his shoulder and silently walking upstairs

You both were never seen for the rest of the night

You were heard though

AIS

Straight up takes the stem and inspects it

You're wondering wtf he's doing until he sets it back down in your hand and just grins

"That was something sparrow, got any other tricks you can show me?"

Wow

You laugh and tell him the stem was the only thing you had

I'm just saying he's the kind of guy to know random magic tricks but never tell you how he learned it

Spoiler alert, he snatched the talent from someone in the hive mind

So, imagine your shock when he says "I'll show you one then" before reaching over and pulling a gold coin from behind your ear??

His grin only widened at your face, teasingly flipping the coin before setting it on the counter

You both pretty much sit there laughing at the shenanigans for some time

After a few more drinks, Ais takes a cherry from a small bowl and picks out the stem. You look at him confused for a moment before he just smirks at you and tosses it into his mouth

…guess he had other jokes too

After about a minute, he sticks out his tongue, the stem now resting on top of it

With his grin as wide as ever

Chuckling at your reaction, he takes the stem out, setting it right next to yours as he signals to the barkeep for another glass

But after she walks away, he turns to you for a moment, leaning over to whisper into your ear

"When we get out of here, let me show you some more magic tricks, hm?"

oh my

KURAS

This angel doesn't drink, so whenever you're at the bar he pretty much just makes sure you're alright lol

He was standing next to you by the bar when you showed him the stem

His eyes went as wide as an owl, and it made you laugh so hard

He's seen many things in his life, being centuries years old, so he's probably seen a few people attempt to seduce him by using the old cherry stem trick

But it feels so...different when it comes from you?

He can't explain it well so don't ask him-

After about a few moments he just smiles and starts laughing, but not a full barking laugh more like a softer one

"That's quite the skill you have there, my dear."

Doesn't really verbally say much about it, but you can tell he's having a lot of thoughts

He gives off secretly kinky vibes to be honest

It's not until Vere who was passing by mentioned that he would love to see what others things you can do with your tongue that Kuras truly paid attention

He's fully aware that Vere only "flirts" with you to mess with him, yes it pisses him off, but he refuses to let Vere see that

Harshly side-eyeing Vere, he turns back to you and gently takes your hand

“My love, what do you say we go back home? There is something I must show you.”

Kuras? Sounding mildly enthusiastic about something? What timeline was this?

After practically dragging you back to the clinic, he sits on one of the tables and tilts your chin up with his pointer and thumb

“I apologize if this sounds selfish of me dear, but I wish to see that trick of yours again.”

Let’s just say anyone that needed any sort of medical help immediately ran away after hearing you two going at it all night

VERE

Wheewwwww I just gotta say you picked the wrong one to do this in front of

This guy is the embodiment of sexual humor

But moving on

Both of you just kinda sit in silence for a second as he’s just smirking

Ears pointed up, tail slowly swinging from side to side, eyelids low, yea he’s up to something

“That was quite the talent darling, care to let me show you one as well?”

You watch as he grabs a nearby cherry, plucking the stem off and keeping very close eye contact with you as he placed it on his tongue

But unlike Ais, he has his mouth slightly open, giving you an almost clear view of exactly what he’s doing

Once he’s done, he takes the stem out, leaning in closer so you can feel his breath on yours, your noses touching

“How’s that for a trick?”

You swear he’s trying to kill you

Seeing your lack of response, his smirk widens

You know what they say, foxes are natural tricksters

Only this one has it bumped up to a 10

He leans back, continuing to sip on his drink while glancing at you every few seconds

You eventually stop daydreaming about some very not sfw things at that and start nursing your own glass again

But after a minute or so, you feel something soft yet prickly running up and down your legs

….no way

You looked at Vere, but he was just leisurely resting his arms against the counter as he swirled the alcohol around in its glass, paying no mind to you

But once you took your eyes off him, you didn’t notice the heavy look he gave you, all the while slowly inching his tail closer between your legs

Guess you were in for a long night

MHIN

Another one that doesn’t drink so they just stood there with their arms crossed watching you

Making sure you didn’t do anything idiotic of course totally not because they were worried about you being drunk in a place like this-

So when you said their name got their attention, the last thing they expected was to see you spitting out a stem that was now tied in a knot

I’ll be totally honest, they didn’t really know how to respond

On one hand, yea that’s pretty cool and a little hot but also, what in the seven hells?

So they just decided to look at you with a bewildered expression with their face getting redder by the second “

“Don’t…do that here.”

I hate to admit it but..tsundere

You laugh at them and go back to your drink, only this time purposely swirling your tongue around the rim before sipping again

You know, just to fuck with them

Of course this makes them automatically turn around and hide their growing red face from you

They did their best to get that image out of their head, not wanting to make it known that you had that kind of affect on them

But in the midst of that they heard snickering from one of the nearby tables, it was a group of guys that had been staring at you since you did that little stem trick of yours

And oh boy, was Mhin not happy

And totally not also jealous

So, you can definitely say you weren’t expecting Mhin to turn back around and grab you harshly by the shirt and kiss you

Of course you kissed them back though, quickly noticing the group of guys that had very awkwardly cleared their throats and talk amongst themselves

Once Mhin pulled back, they had a look of annoyance and almost possession in their eyes

“You do that around me, and only me. Got that?”

Possessive Mhin is a hot Mhin

Vere and Ais were the first pairing that came to mind. But then Mhin complained that they didn’t want to hear them having sex at two in the morning. You and Kuras could sympathize so argued that, no, Vere and Ais cannot be together in the same room. Vere was angry, Ais was indifferent. He preferred Vere’s company over others, but as long as he didn’t get Mhin he was fine. He found the idea of Mhin aiming a knife to his neck fun, but in the end he didn’t want to deal with them pestering him like a fly.

And then there was Leander. If they went off the reason of not wanting to hear someone having sex, then Leander was tough. He had had sex with half of the members in the group: Ais, Mhin, and (maybe) Vere. You still didn’t really know if they did it or not.

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping in the same room as Leander,” you said. Everyone stiffened except for the man in question, who had a cocky smile on his face. Secretly, everyone wanted to room with you, but they didn’t want to admit it.

Kuras stepped in before Leander could make a comment, and steered the conversation to possibly drawing sticks so it would be fair for everyone and well, not everyone was happy with their partners. Vere got Leander, Mhin got Ais, and you got Kuras. You weren’t against Kuras being your roommate; he was a gentleman and minded his own business. He didn’t seem like he was against rooming with you either. The others were not so happy with their results.

“I’m not rooming with a monster,” Mhin spat, venom lacing their words, glaring holes in the back of Ais’ head.

Ais ignored them, while Vere rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah, well nobody wants to deal with an annoying midget like you. I think you forgot to pack your booster seat.”

Vere snickered as Mhin’s face turned red from anger.

“Hey hey now hold on, MC said that they were fine with rooming with me, so why not just leave the two of us out of it?” Leander said, arms snaking around your shoulder.

“No, you soft penis numbskull. You’re not rooming with MC.” Mhin stepped in. When the others looked at Mhin curiously, they coughed nervously and looked away.

You tried to lighten the mood with a joke, “Ais and Leander are best friends. We should room them together.”

The corner of Leander’s smile frayed at your joke. Ais narrowed his eyes at you. At least Vere was laughing, probably at you for your failed attempt to lighten the mood, but at least he laughed. You drew into yourself. You’ve forgotten the others were getting quite annoyed by the arguing. This was serious business that might mean life or death.

“How about we draw sticks again?” You suggested meekly, trying to move past the awkwardness.

“No, it’s just a waste of time,” intervened Vere, “we all clearly have our preferences, so how about we list anyone we don’t want to room with? I go first. I hate all four of you, fortunately, so I’m going to room with Ais or no one.”

“I don’t have a preference,” said Leander with a blush.

“We know,” Vere rolled his eyes.

“At this point let’s just room the two people that are the doormats of this group, Leander and Vere. It’s the easiest way to deal with them,” said Mhin.

“Or how about we room Leander in one room and Vere in the other one, and then we all share the last one,” you suggest. At this point you were running out of ideas and throwing them out randomly hoping you would hit a jackpot.

“I’m not invited to the foursome? That is unfortunate to hear,” Vere said.

“It’s getting too complicated. Room Vere with MC, Mhin with Leander, and me and Kuras. That should be good,” suggested Ais, getting impatient.

“I’m afraid that would be endangering MC’s safety,” said Kuras coolly, ignoring Vere’s exasperated reaction.

He quickly switched to his flirty demeanor, a coy smile on his lips, “Oh, but I don’t bite. Unless they ask me.” Mhin scoffed in the background. Kuras was expressionless. If he reacted to Vere’s tasteless innuendos, he would give the fox exactly what he wanted. So he stayed quiet and didn’t let his face give anything away.

“I agree with Kuras on this one. A bloody, mangled corpse is the last thing we want to deal with,” said Mhin. Though Mhin said this, you knew that they cared about your safety.

Ais sighed in defeat, pulling out a cigarette and a match, “I’m going out for a smoke.” You couldn’t blame him, they’ve been arguing for the past thirty minutes. Ais walked off to the entrance of the hotel.

Seeing Ais walk off, Vere waved their fingers before sauntering off in the same direction.

“The dog went to take a walk with it’s owner. Good grief,” said Mhin.

“We still need to get this rooming situation settled. I’m sure the others won’t mind if we decided without them,” said Kuras.

He sighed, “From what I’ve observed, the best rooming pairs seems like the fox and Ais, Mhin and MC, and Leander and I. We’ll take the middle room, Mhin and MC take the left, and Vere and Ais the right. That way Mhin wouldn’t be disturbed from any unnecessary sounds at night.”

“I could live with that,” said Mhin.

Leander didn’t seem too pleased with the end-result, but he wasn’t going to complain, “Alright. Guess I get to room with the good doctor tonight. Hey, maybe we can finally get some dinner, you and I.”

“Perhaps,” said Kuras, but from his indifferent expression and hollow tone it sounded more like a no.

“Ah,” was all Leander said. You could see the cogs turning behind his eyes. Then, he pulled out a deck of cards from his pocket, “I brought cards with me. Anyone wanna play Poker in an hour or two, our room?”

You smiled, “I like Poker. Bet I could beat you,” you nudged his shoulder teasingly.

“Sure.” Leander said with a laugh, but the way he said it almost sounded…condescending? You raised your brows, but before you could fully process it, Leander had already started speaking, “Would the doctor like to join as well?”

Must’ve been my imagination.

“I suppose if you are going to play in our room, I could join for a game or two.”

Kuras reply seemed to brighten Leander’s mood from the thinly-veiled rejection for dinner a few seconds ago.

“Great! How about you Mhin!”

“I’m tired.” Mhin grabbed their bags and started heading for the elevator, ignoring Leander’s invitation. You saw Leander’s smile falter.

“I’ll try convincing them,” you whispered to Leander who gave you an appreciative smile.

You had the keys to the room, so after saying goodbye to the other two, quickly followed after your small companion.

“I’m glad I get to room with you, Mhin,” you said while waiting for the elevator with them.

the thrill that moves through you has you gasping into his mouth, pussy fluttering from how easily he overwhelms your senses. melting into him, letting him kiss you stupid. growing too horny to continue this way, you hold onto him and somehow manage to get him to lay on the couch.

his back resting on the cushions with you straddling him. "i wanna ride you," words spoken soft and tantalising, hand slipping under his shirt again to rest where it once was.

gojo's shirt rides up with your touch, the warm pressure of your soft palm has his cock twitching in his pants. "are you waiting for an invitation?"

"more like a plea," you challenge his glib attitude.

"pleaseee sit on my dick, pretty," his hands slide up your thighs to grip your hips, "i'm aching for it." and as if to prove his point, he ruts his hips up under you. grinding his erection against your clothed cunt.

your nails lightly scratch against his skin, lungs shuddering from the much needed stimulation. you're digging your teeth into your lower lip to stifle down any pathetic sound he might be able to pull from you. failing completely when he tugs you down at the same time that he's rutting up.

"fuuuuck– hold on– hnn– this feels soo—" he doesn't finish his sentence, head tilting back as he keeps dry humping you.

his skin is all flushed and radiating heat, eyes dazed and lost in the muted pleasure he's gaining from this. he's acting like a dog as he keeps relentlessly grinding against you. a small and pitiful whimper leaves him and you're keening into it. hands tugging his shirt up more, palms perched on him as you meet his grinds.

"wait– wait– hng– i'm gonna—" even though he's asking you to wait he doesn't stop his hips, continuing until he's shuddering through his own orgasm.

his pants growing damp as he cums in them, gojo can feel the way his seed clings to his clothes. coating his dick in his own sticky release. if it hadn't felt so fucking good he'd probably be embarrassed but he's in complete bliss right now.

"did you just cum?" you ask him, somehow even more aroused. his relaxed and borderline fucked out expression making you want him more.

he's panting softly, eyes glazed over as he answers, "you shouldn't have looked at me like that."