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PSA ; alright gang... i have a new main account, @koinuui !! if you'd like to see other characters and fandoms besides flins, i plan to start writing there very soon <3
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pairing : flins x male! reader. fujoshi's dni.
𝜗ৎ . synopsis : self explanatory, nsfw alphabet. spicy headcanons sorted alphabetically from A-Z. cw. [ nsfw ] ⸝⸝ first time writing smut, feeling kinda nervous... gulp. lowkey self-indulgent, obviously explicit, service top flins.
⌗. word count : 2.4k. a/n : authors first freaky. time to go hide in my cave
♡ a = aftercare. (what they're like after sex)
he's nothing if not gentle with you. doesn't matter who's doing what to whom, flins will do his best to take care of you and make sure you're comfortable, through and through. especially after such an intense moment of intimacy.
even if this is all a little new to him, even if he's unaccustomed to human needs, he makes it a habit to help clean you up—warm cloth wiping away any cum and sweat, careful around the tender areas—and pull you close under the covers. he'll tenderly kiss over any marks he may have left on you, whispering hushed praise and sweet nothings in your ear until you eventually drift off in his arms.
♡ b = body part. (their favorite body part of theirs and also on their partner)
his favorite part of himself is his hands. steady, capable, deliberate—they're what he uses to please you. whether he's fingering you open, stroking your twitching cock, or gripping your hips while he fucks into you, your enjoyment is what's most important to him. the fact that he's even capable of making you feel that good at all makes him incredibly happy.
as for you, that's difficult. flins adores every part of you, but if he had to pick, it'd be your eyes. oh, how they put his gemstone collection to shame. but your eyes, of course, are more extravagant than any crystal he's ever seen. especially when they're hazy with pleasure, barely able to focus on him while he's inside you.
he's also partial to your throat and the nape of your neck. thats where he likes to kiss you most, sometimes leaving the gentlest of bites, and other times the not-so-gentle ones.
♡ c = cum. (anything to do with it)
i feel like he'd produce a lot, only because he's not one to jerk off by himself very often, which leaves him pretty backed up. the first time you made him cum, he was almost embarrassed just by how much there was.
and when you cum? he's mesmerized. he loves watching you spill over his hand, his tongue, his stomach. he also loves the taste of it, loves feeling you pulse and throb in his mouth as he sucks you through your high. he'll lick you clean afterwards, gentle and thorough.
♡ d = dirty secret. (something dirty they've never told anyone)
he'd never admit it, but he secretly likes giving you hickies in more visible areas: your throat, your collarbones, that spot just above where the collar of your shirt sits. it gives him a sense of pride, knowing there's a chance others might see the marks he left on you, a subtle claim. something something fae instinct.
he also has a thing for watching you get yourself off. the thrill of seeing you stroke yourself into desperation, taking in every detail: your expression, the way your muscles tense, the sounds you make, how your dick leaks and twitches in your grip.
♡ e = experience. (how much experience do they have? do they know what they're doing?)
next to none. such intimacy was never something he actively pursued in his long existence—fae mate for life after all, and he'd never found someone worth giving himself to like that. relationships are complicated when you're pretending to be human, and sex without that deep connection seemed hollow and meaningless. so he simply... didn't.
but what he lacks in experience, he makes up for with how fast he learns. observant and ever intelligent, noting every reaction you have with that sharp mind of his. remembering what angle makes your cock leak and jump, what pace makes your thighs shake and your voice break, where to put his tongue to make you see stars. by the first few times together, he already knows your body like he's been studying it for years.
♡ f = favorite position. (how do they like to do it?)
anything where he can see your face and your cock.
he loves having you on your back with your legs over his shoulders so he can watch your length bounce with every thrust, already hard and leaking between you. or seated in his lap facing him so he can kiss you while grinding onto your ass or jerking you off, swallowing your moans, feeling you clench around him when you get too close.
♡ g = goofy. (are they more serious in the moment, or do they attempt to crack jokes?)
he's generally serious and romantic, but he's also got a sense of humor. the kind that comes out in gentle teasing and the occasional terrible pun. it's rare, but he has flashes of playfulness.
♡ h = hair. (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes...)
flins is the type to keep himself neat and well-groomed. the carpet does indeed match the drapes, dark indigo pubes trimmed but not completely bare. there's a nice pretty trail leading down from his navel that you've traced with your tongue more than once, following it lower until you're mouthing at his dick through his underwear.
♡ i = intimacy. (how romantic are they in the moment?)
flins is quite the charmer, so it's safe to say he'd be pretty romantic in bed. he's all whispered admiration and reverent touches, treating your body like something precious even when he's wrecking you. candles or soft lamp-light isn't unusual when he's setting things up for the two of you, and he always makes sure you're comfortable.
he kisses your tears away if it's overwhelming, if it's too much and not enough all at once, praise you for taking him so well, call you handsome, tell him how good you are for him. sex isn't just physical for flins—it's vulnerability, it's trust.
♡ j = jack off. (masturbation headcanon)
i actually don't think he'd go at it with himself very often. he's never felt like he needs to, and he doesn't have much time for it anyway, considering his lightkeeper duties. though he'll indulge himself on occasion, especially if either of you has been away for more than a few days or if a memory of your last time together won't leave his mind.
when he does jerk off, he likes to take it slow, and he's definitely thinking of you the entire time. your voice, your touch, sometimes imagining that it's your hand instead of his own.
♡ k = kink. (one or more of their kinks)
praise for sure. he loves telling you how well you're doing, how good you feel, how perfect you look, how nicely you take him.
he's also got a bit of a cock worship thing going on. he could spend hours between your legs, mouthing at your sensitive shaft before it's red and weeping. kissing it, teasing the head, licking it from the base to the tip—he adores every inch of you, and that includes your friend downstairs.
other than that, though, he's pretty vanilla! that said, he's not unwilling to experiment if you mention wanting to try something new. i lowkey see him being a bit curious about wax play...
♡ l = location. (favorite places to do it)
the comfort of his home, at the lighthouse. it's private, and he can take his time with you without worrying about being interrupted. hardly anyone ever comes by to visit the final night cemetery, and there's no one around to hear the noise either.
he's honestly not particularly adventurous with locations—the risk of being caught doesn't appeal to him. but, he may or may not have fucked you against his desk just outside the lighthouse once or twice.
♡ m = motivation. (what turns them on, what gets them going?)
your voice gets him every time. the way you say his name, especially when it's breathy or needy, when you're begging or praising him; it goes straight to his cock. even outside of sex, he could listen to you talk for hours.
seeing you in his clothes absolutely destroys him too. his shirt hanging off your shoulders, sleeves too long, collar exposing your throat... flins also just loves making you feel good. watching you come undone, hearing you gasp and moan, seeing your poor dick twitch and throb uselessly, knowing HE'S the one making you feel that way? incredible. your pleasure is his pleasure.
♡ n = NO. (their turn offs, things they wouldn't do)
a big no-no for him is hurting you, in any way, shape, or form. he'd rather die than cause you genuine harm. he doesn't mind leaving marks, but anything that causes you actual pain or distress is completely off the table.
he's not into degradation or humiliation either. light teasing is fine, but actually being mean to you, making you feel bad? that goes against every instinct he has. you're precious to him.
no sharing or public sex either. this is something private and meaningful between you two, not a spectacle. the idea of anyone else seeing you like that or being with you intimately doesn't sit right with him at all.
♡ o = oral. (would they rather give or receive? how skilled are they?)
flins absolutely loves having your cock in his mouth. he's clumsy at first, but he learns relatively fast and grows increasingly more addicted to the weight of your dick against his tongue, the way your tip hits the back of his throat. he loves the taste of you, the sounds you make above him—he can't get enough of it.
receiving is good, too, but he would never want to make you do all that work when he can please you instead. he definitely prefers giving and making you feel good. he licks you up after every time, pressing chaste kisses to your softening length.
♡ p = pace. (are they fast and rough, or slow and sensual?)
slow and sensual is his default. he likes to savor every moment, every touch, drawing things out until you're practically begging underneath him; pulling out almost completely before sliding back in agonizingly slow, making sure you feel every inch. he'll fuck you like he has all the time in the world, because he... kind of does.
♡ q = quickie. (their preference and opinion on quickies rather than proper sex)
he won't say no if you ask for one. if you're desperate and need him now, he'll absolutely do you quick and dirty against the nearest surface. theres something about the urgency of it, the raw need.
but he easily prefers to make love to you properly rather than rush through it. while quickies have their place, he'd much rather have you spread out beneath him with hours to lovingly explore your body.
♡ r = risk. (are they willing to experiment?)
he's pretty open to experimentation if you bring it up. his natural curiosity extends to intimacy—as long as it's safe and no one's boundaries are crossed, he's willing to try most things. but i dont think he's the type to come to you with something new, so you'll have to be the one asking.
♡ s = stamina. (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)
fae hardly ever find themselves feeling tired, and flins is no exception. he could go all night if you really wanted him to, and he has; thrusting into you until you're oversensitive and shaking, until the sun starts to peek through the rusted lighthouse windows.
but your comfort is his priority. he'll stop whenever you need, bring you water, let you catch your breath, and check in to make sure you're okay. just because he can keep going doesn't mean he will if you're done.
as for how long he lasts, it honestly varies. sometimes he can cum embarrassingly quick, especially if it's been a while or if you're doing something particularly stimulating. other times, he can last for ages, holding back so he can make you cum first.
♡ t = toy. (do they own any toys? do they use them? on partner or on themself?)
doubtful. not that he's against them, i just don't think it would ever cross his mind. he's plenty happy with just his hands. but he's willing to try it out if you ask him about it.
♡ u = unfair. (how much they like to tease)
a lot, actually. he can be a menace when he wants to be. he knows exactly what he's doing, and he certainly has a way with words.
or sometimes it's just a hand resting just a bit too high on your thigh, or whispered filth in your ear, or "accidentally" brushing against your crotch when he reaches past you. he loves seeing you flustered and hard, knowing he's the cause.
♡ v = volume. (how loud they are, what sounds they make)
i wouldn't call him loud, per se, but he's definitely somewhat vocal. it all depends on what's going on, who's in control. he's typically pretty composed—low groans and sharp breaths, your name falling off his lips like a prayer.
but if you're the one taking the more dominant role, riding him or sucking his soul right through his cock, or even fucking him? he gets louder, breathier, gasping in a way you didn't know he could.
♡ w = wild card. (headcanon)
you wouldn't think so, but he actually loves it when you top. he's usually the one in charge since he loves servicing and taking care of you, so he didn't expect to be so into it the first time you took control.
he's also very into frottage. grinding your cocks together, both slick from pre-cum, rutting until you both spill over. it makes his head spin.
♡ x = x-ray. (lets see whats going on under all those clothes...)
like a solid seven, maybe eight inches when he's fully hard. and a pretty pink tip. not obscenely huge but definitely enough to make you feel it. i feel like he would be longer than girthier, maybe a slight curve.
♡ y = yearning. (how high is their sex drive ?)
moderate to high, really. he went centuries with little interest in sex, but then you came along. as ive said: fae choose their partners for life, and now that he has his person, he wants you frequently.
he can manage a while without it if necessary, but he'd prefer not to. there are times when he's practically glued to you, hands wandering whenever you're close. making up for lost time, he'd say.
♡ z = zzz. (how quickly do they fall asleep after ?)
he... doesn't. not usually. fae don't need sleep, and resting at night isn't typically part of his routine. he's used to keeping watch, tending the lighthouse, staying alert through the dark hours.
but he's never opposed to laying with you after a night together, holding you close and running his fingers through your hair while you drift off, your body warm and satisfied against his. he likes these quiet hours, likes holding you, likes being there when you wake up.
Hiiii can i request flins with a vampire reader ? + How would he react to them wanting to taste his blood for the first time ? Would he get used to it over time ?
𖦹 〃 AFTERTASTE .ᐟ.ᐟ
pairing : flins x gn! vampire reader. (no prns used).
𝜗ৎ . synopsis : flins returns home one night from lightkeeper patrol seemingly unscathed. all is well, and your fear is put to rest as he walks through the door—that is, until, you catch the scent of his blood. cw. [sfw] ⸝⸝ vampire reader as requested, so yes; there are definitely mentions of blood, including detailed descriptions of both the taste and smell of it... plus a bit of biting.
⌗. word count : 1.9k. IM SO SORRY THIS REQ TOOK ME SO LONG but it was really fun to write and i hope you enjoy <3
flins is late.
you try not to stare at the clock anymore. it won't help—really, it never does. but the unease in your chest refuses to settle. with his role as lightkeeper, wild hunt encounters are bound to happen. and that's fine. he's capable, strong, precise with every strike and every step.
but none of that stops the fear that creeps in on the nights he's gone for too long.
you sit on the edge of the couch with your hands folded tightly in your lap, reminding yourself to breathe steady. it's fine. he's fine. you tell yourself it won't do any good to imagine the worst-case scenarios, to not picture those creatures of the abyss tearing through the fog and mist.
still. when the door to the lighthouse finally clicks open, your head snaps up so fast it nearly leaves you dizzy.
flins steps inside, shutting the door behind him and making sure the lock is secure. he doesn't announce himself; he hardly ever does. though his eyes soften the moment they meet yours.
"you're awake," he says, voice low and apologetic. "i'm sorry. i did not mean to make you wait."
you exhale slowly, half laughing from the relief. "don't apologize. you were just gone a lot longer than usual."
a quiet nod. "the hunt lingered near the cliffs. i could not leave until they dispersed."
but he's safe. unscathed. back in one piece, already shrugging off the weight of tonight's work.
or so you think. because the second he steps toward you, you smell it; a thread of something sharp and metallic cutting through the air and invading your senses all at once.
blood.
his blood.
shit. the scent engulfs you entirely, enough to make your breath falter and your throat tighten. gods, your throat. it burns it burns it burns. it shouldn't be this intense, this overwhelming. you fed well enough yesterday, didn't you?
your fingers curl into the edge of the sofa. "kyryll," you say carefully. "you're hurt."
a small crease forms between his brows. "am i?"
you point in his direction, somewhere around his ribs. he glances down, then brushes a gloved hand along the underside of his coat. and there it is: the faintest slash of red staining the fabric, sourced from nothing more than a shallow scrape.
"ah," he says. "a scratch. i hadn't even noticed... hardly anything worth fussing over."
he's right. it should be nothing. he's entirely unbothered. but you, on the other hand—
the scent is everywhere. coppery, sweet, horrifyingly tempting. another stab of thirst burns at your throat, and all you can think about is soothing the ache.
you swallow once. twice. it doesn't help, the hunger only coiling tighter and tighter.
your breathing stutters, and flins doesn't miss it.
he blinks at the sudden shift, confusion flickering across his face. "are you alright?"
you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. the words stick, snagging on the edge of your throat as you clutch your seat tightly. your pulse hammers. you shouldn't say it. you really shouldn't say it.
but flins steps closer, and the scent hits you again, slicing clean through whatever discipline you thought you had left. "you're trembling," he says.
"...i can smell it," you manage through your teeth. your fangs.
he stops just before the couch. "the blood?"
you nod, embarrassment flooding your lungs until its nearly as suffocating as the smell. "its not—it's not usually this strong," you explain, voice strangled. "i'm fine with blood bags, or the animal stock, but this is different. it's really intense, it... it smells really good."
flins goes still at that, hesitating by the sofa. oh, gods. have you done it this time? have you really scared him off? you can't tell if he looks alarmed or disgusted or what. maybe you shouldn't have said anything. maybe you shouldn't have—
he interrupts your spiral. "...does it hurt?"
you blink. "what?"
"the thirst. does it hurt?"
does it hurt? you shouldn't tell him if it does. but your throat screams at you again, fiercer this time, and the truth slips out before you can stop it. "yes."
"...i see," he says quietly.
you brace for the recoil. the discomfort, the revulsion. you've lived long enough to know how people react when you mention craving them, even passingly.
but to your surprise, flins does not turn away.
the cushions dip as he crouches in front of you, lowering himself so your eyes meet when you finally open them. his face is calm, steady, impossibly relaxed for someone bleeding in front of a starving creature. and worse—his gaze carries no judgement. only curiosity, and if you look close enough, concern.
"i apologize," he whispers. "i did not mean to return to you like this. i was not thinking."
you shake your head desperately, nails almost tearing the sofa apart from how tightly you grip your seat. here you are, struggling to hold yourself back from devouring him, and he's apologizing. "no. no, its not—please. you didn't do anything wrong. i just—"
the scent spikes as he shifts, and your voice breaks. "gods," you croak. "i'm really trying, i swear."
he nods once, the moonlight blanketing over the edge of his pale cheeks. he's beautiful. "i know."
and then—
a quiet rustle of fabric, the faint creak of leather. flins catches the edge of his glove with his teeth, exposing his slender fingers as he lifts them to your face.
you flinch back on instinct.
he pauses, hand suspended in the air as he considers you. "may i?" he asks softly.
you hesitate. "kyryll, you don't have to."
"i know," he says again. "but you're in pain."
"no. i shouldn't want this," you choke out. "it's wrong. i... i don't feed off people. i don't want to hurt you either, i don't—"
his thumb brushes gently against your knee, grounding you back to earth. back to him. "you won't."
"you don't know that," you breathe, trembling now. "i can smell you, do you understand that? i can taste you in the air. what if i bite you and i lose control? what then?"
"then i'll stop you," he says calmly, like its the simplest thing in the world.
you scowl, throat burning. "you're not taking this seriously."
"i am," he replies, voice soft yet firm. "you simply do not give yourself enough credit. nor i—you forget that i myself am not mortal either. i am not as fragile as you think me to be."
you falter. "kyryll..."
"it's a shallow wound," he continues. "and you'll only be taking a small bite, nothing more. if a taste is all it will take to soothe you, then i offer it freely."
a taste. you feel dizzy at the thought, and it's getting harder and harder to say no. to restrain yourself. to be good like you promised you would.
"...are you sure?" you ask, quieter now.
flins replies without hesitation. "yes."
you chew the inside of your cheek, fangs grazing over the walls of your mouth. "if it hurts, you tell me. if i drink too much, you tell me. okay?"
he nods once, and you remind yourself to breathe. "where should i...?"
he shifts, settling himself beside you and loosening his collar just enough to expose the bare line of his neck. "here," he says.
your breath hitches at the sight alone, and you have to stop yourself from pouncing on him right then and there. the scent is stronger now, closer. it burns.
just a taste.
flins beckons you closer, practically pressed against him now. he tilts his head to allow you better access and you lean in, hesitating just before his skin. you press a soft kiss to his throat. an apology.
"it may hurt," you warn gently.
"it's alright."
"squeeze me or push me off if it's too much."
"i will."
you sink your teeth into his flesh.
your fangs dig swiftly into his skin and you're instantly greeted by the relief of his warmth. of his blood. you can feel his pulse accelerate, hear him inhale sharply beside you, but he does not back down. he does not pull away.
you drink, swallowing what you can.
his blood is like water after a day under the scorching sun. it's heaven on your tongue, rich, sweet, unlike anything you've tasted in centuries. you gulp down a mouthful, then another, before your eyes snap open and you force yourself back.
your hands are shaking. "shit. i—i'm sorry. i didn't mean to take that much, i—"
flins' hands come up to find yours, thumbs grazing over your knuckles carefully. "breathe," he says. "it's alright."
you search his face for any sign of strain; pallor, dizziness, anything at all. but he seems perfectly fine. his pulse, strong beneath your touch, hasn't slowed at all.
okay. good. this... is good. you wipe your mouth, swallowing what's left over. "i'm sorry," you say again. "did i hurt you?"
"a little," he admits honestly. "but it was not unpleasant."
you falter. "what?"
his eyes meet yours, and he offers you a small smile. "you were gentle," he explains. "and you managed to stop yourself without me needing to intervene. that is no small feat."
the world feels still now. you let that settle, taking in the warmth in his words.
slowly, you lean in again; not to feed this time, but rather to fix what you've done. your tongue traces lightly over the puncture, until the bite is sealed closed. "there," you whisper. "it should heal faster now."
he exhales, a small shiver running through him. "thank you."
you linger close, not quite ready to pull away. the hunger has settled now, and you’ve never felt more relieved. "you're really okay?"
he hums thoughtfully, nodding once and carefully brushing his fingers over your wrist. "yes," he says, and his hand finds yours, entangling them gently. "entirely. and you? are you in any pain?"
you swallow again, testing your throat for any lingering hunger. but the burn is gone. "i... no," you say, trying to let yourself relax. "im fine. it doesn't hurt anymore."
he studies you for a moment, eyes fond and flickering with relief. "that is good. i will remember to be more careful in the future," he adds, straightening out his collar.
your brows knit together. "in the future?"
"returning to you unharmed. though if this should happen again," he explains, "i would not mind. i'd rather you not face this alone."
a pause. "you're... offering?"
"if it would help you, then of course."
for a moment, you only stare at him.
you glance down at your joined hands, thumb fumbling with the edge of one of his gloves. "you don't have to do that," you say quietly. "i'll manage. really."
"you always manage," he says. "but you should not have to."
oh. you meet his gaze again, floored by the genuine care in his eyes, and you feel your resolve slowly begin to waver.
"...thank you," you whisper, giving his hand a tiny squeeze. you're not very keen on the idea of hurting him further, but you appreciate the gesture all the same. truly.
"rest," he says after a beat of silence. "it has been a long night."
you nod, leaning in just a fraction closer, enough to feel his warmth through the fabric of his coat. the tension you felt earlier starts melt away, and it's enough—more than enough.
outside, the fog continues to drift past the lighthouse, cold and unforgiving. inside, with flins near, everything is quiet. comfortable.
Oh, I don't even play Genshin, but a friend tells me all about the game and wow. I love this guy so much. I adore him. Flins was love at first sight. My man. But I find so much content for female readers that it makes me want to cry. Men love this guy too (like me, hehe).
Finding your blog is like paradise itself! There's not much content yet, but finding a blog in its early stages is the best way to encourage a writer!
Oh, sorry for rambling. I just wanted to share how happy I was to find your blog. I'll definitely be a fan who visits often, making requests or interacting with you.
I hope you take good care of yourself so you can write more content on your blog! ♪(^∇^*)
AAA THIS IS SO SWEET ??
THANK YOU SO MUCH i always love to hear that my work has reached my target audience <33 its a struggle to find any good mlm flins content anywhere so i thought i'd take matters into my own hands n im glad to hear that there are other guys out there who feel the same
been on a bit of a hiatus since life is hectic right now, but i do currently have some work in progress so keep an eye out !! hope you enjoy the blog :))
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
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