𖤐 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : neuvilette from genshin impactִ
࣪𖤐 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : fem! reader, exhibitionism, teasing, slight cursing, me absolutely deliriousִ
࣪𖤐 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀'𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : KHAOHSDHFOD IGHEROIG HOIHIHD O NDFKJDN FKJGBREOIGHROIG HROEIN I
"Shhhh... If you're any louder we run the risk of getting caught."
A pause. A soft chuckle. "Wouldn't that be a case to try and justify?"
Another deep chuckle follows, one that borders amusement. Neuvilette's hand flexes against your back, spans across your skin and presses you down ever harder against the desk until you feel your breasts are squished and your breaths come out shorter. He's merciless as he pounds you without any indication of faltering — his body is like stone and marble, powerful thrusts that leave your body jolting, gasping for air. He pins you down, has his way with you far too easily. Yet your cunt welcomes him greedily, sucking him in, velvet walls tightening around him until he lets out a sharp hiss.
"Dirty girl," he chides with a low tut. "You like the thought of that. I should've known."
You feel the cool sensation of his rings ghosting against your skin, you taste them on your tongue where he's got a hand clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet. Saliva pools against his fingers, drips between the crevices of his knuckles — you have half a mind left and you know he's going to punish you later for making such a mess. Your whine vibrates against his skin, catching his attention for a brief moment.
But it does nothing to slow his thrusts, his thick cock dragging against your walls, how he angles himself just right to nudge against your sweet spot, paying no mind to the embarrassing squealch of skin meeting skin. He's thick and heavy, his length pulses inside of you with every stroke, muscles in his thighs straining with his efforts and soft grunts occasionally tumbling from his lips.
Case hardened... is the only word that comes to mind.
He knows the line he's threading, fucking you in the very courtroom he sits in everyday, where fates are decided. If the two of you got caught it would be the end of the line for you both — perhaps that's why he's fucking you here where he knows trouble awaits.
A gloved hand slips down to the arch of your back and further, caressing the curve of your ass. He makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat when he kneads one of your cheeks, even going as far to lift it, watching how you cream around the base of his cock, your pussy fluttering and your face filling with warmth. He's studying you, perceiving how you take him, how your quads quiver with an effort to keep you up, how you're pressed up on the tips of your toes, how your cunt keeps sucking him in.
"My, my, darling. If I was any wiser I'd say it's like this pretty little pussy doesn't want to let me go."
You mewl behind his palm, squeeze your eyes shut and let your head drop to the table. He takes this as your sign of submission and rewards you with one single, fleeting kiss to your spine and a mischievous little spank to your ass.
"Good girl," he whispers, his voice an octave or two lower than usual, each syllable coated with bittersweet honey, delectable but oh so dangerous. "I'll give you what you want soon enough. Patience is a virtue, hold on just a little more for me, alright?"
You feel far too empty all of a sudden as he swivels his hips back, his cock slick and shimmering with your juices. He hovers it over your clit, tapping it once or twice with the head of his cock before he's sliding back inside you with a low curse.
Through his fingers you manage to mumble, "Profanities are forbidden in the courtroom."
Your cheekiness only spurs him on even further — his thrusts are twice as hard, you can feel bruises starting to form on your hips. "So is debauchery," he grits out through a tight jaw.
His sharp hips snap against your ass, presses you down further, fucks you like you're nothing more than something to discard. You can hear soft groans spilling from his lips, how the breaths shake in his lungs when you tighten your cunt around him on purpose. He doesn't mind the mess you're making of his dress pants, his hands nor how debauched the two of you look — sweaty skin, his face flushed, his hair tangled and your lower half painted with a mixture of his precum and your slick. He always fucked you like he hated you but kissed you like he loved you.
The glint of the wedding band round his ring finger, the metallic taste of it on your tongue, that tells you otherwise — he doesn't hate you despite fucking you like he does.
It always does.
[tw: noncon!]
gn reader!!!
rui kamishiro FUCKS!!!!!!!! he loves to hold u down by ur shoulders and press all of his weight in you so u have no choice but 2 take his huge dick! he thinks u look so so so so cute crying and begging for him 2 stop! he never will, tho<33333 u just look so cute n miserable like this :(((......
u can keep trying to push him off, but he'll get more and more aggressive the more u try! he'd push u down harshly and sink his teeth into u, so deep he draws blood<33 he'd ask so gently; "does it hurt baby? does it make you want to cry?" and u better give him the satisfaction of seeing ur tears fall down ur cheeks!!!!! otherwise he'll try even HARDER to see u sob and shake<33333!!!!!!!!!!!
“ it’s a shame Albedo is a geo unit”
They said look at all that shame
I said bitch where
They said under all the geo
I said bitch where
ive been thinking of them lately…
V i g i l
A/N: Here is the Kazuha angst, sweeties :')) I wrote this with my prepared angsty playlist hehe- I.. well, my heart cracked..
✤ She/her
Words: 3.9k
"Text in this format means dialogue in flashback!"
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
The memory of peering into the crib with excited blabbers remains fresh, untarnished with the passing of time.
It feels like it’s just yesterday when your mother reached for the wailing baby laying inside to hand him in your caring touch.
“This is your little brother, [Name].” you squealed when the boy clung unto your finger, “His name is Kazuha. Be a good sister for him, understand?”
“Yes!”
Ah, that did feel as if it was just yesterday.
“Nee-chan!”
Dropping the basket of laundry, you frantically looked around.
“Nee-chan!”
“Kazuha-!?”
He was sprinting, arms flailing as tears spilled past his eyes and panicked exclaims left his lips. His friend was chasing him from behind, laughing as he waved an undercooked fish—your brother’s worst nightmare.
Comedic but understandable.
“Tomo’s making me eat it!” your younger brother mumbled behind you, pointing accusingly towards his friend who sheepishly spluttered excuses at your stern gaze.
Taking the skewered fish in Tomo’s hands, you hummed, patting his and Kazuha’s heads.
“How about I cook something for the both of you, instead? How’s that sound?”
“Yes, please! Nee-chan’s cooking is the best!”
You can never get tired of cooking for the two of them, even if your sibling eventually asked to be taught, you find yourself still taking over cooking duty. Lovingly whipping up dishes is your forte.
It stuck around when the household eventually lost the attending servants following the fall of the Kaedehara clan. It even stuck through the grim times of your parents’ passing.
Kazuha had went through so much at a young age, changed little by little—and you aren’t oblivious to it. With his growth, you are a witness to his budding shell of maturity.
Single years fold into a decade and all of a sudden, the mirthful silverette who doesn’t last a day without calling you ‘big sister’ has grown up.
Far too quickly, to be honest, but who are you to hold him back?
“You don’t call me ‘nee-san’ nowadays,” you laugh jokingly, “My, you’ve grown so much, Kazu!”
He stares at the plates of food you set on the dining table, his sigh small and feeble as you continue gushing. Albeit he has a smile on his face, it appears tight. Forced.
But you turn a blind eye to that—you’ve always been doing it.
Now, however, it seems that your brother has grown tired of humoring you. It has been going on for too long.
“I’m not some child anymore..” his monotonous voice is so unlike him—it’s as if he no longer is the person you grew up with.
Having him address it bluntly prompts you to pause, the only sound being the sizzling of unagi meat, frying to perfection. The richness of its color, however, dulls when you process what your sibling has mentioned.
As if its vividness is an illusion meant to shield you from present-day reality.
Still, you shake it away, keeping the smile on your face as you set the fried meat on a new plate, turning to put it down on the table beside the other dishes.
“Oh, Ka-“ you stop, seeing the look in his eyes.
The way his carmine optics bore against your [c]s is foreign.
It’s scary.
It’s different. It’s new.
You sit down in front of him, trying not to show how restless you’ve become. Such an attempt is futile, of course, since you’re in front of the person you’ve been with for years.
“Kazu-“
Thud!
Silence zips your lips when he lays his chopsticks down. It isn’t by any means a slam—but someone like Kazuha doesn’t need to be outright with anything in order to express a negative opinion.
“So please refrain from initiating unnecessary coddling,” he cuts you off with a swivel as he leaves for the door. “I have grown up now, sister. I... need you less.”
What?
A multitude of emotions hit you at once, all coming from his sudden statement that feels like it can tear you apart. But oh—who were you kidding?
You know that this will eventually come.
The very day where he admits that he is capable of being alone. Without you.
The opening of the door causes you to stand from your chair, “Wait!”
He does as you said but doesn’t look back. His hand remains on the handle of the knob, unchanging of his decision to leave.
You tug the black and red scarf from your neck, inching close to the man so you can wrap it around his neck. “It’s cold outside.. won’t you at least eat something?”
It takes him a moment to respond—but his decision does not change.
He detangles the fabric on his neck and, without looking you in the eye, sets it in your hand, rejecting your offer.
“Later.”
And he’s gone.
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
Nothing changed much after he left with that declaration.
Often times he still returns in the dead of night, a smile on his face. It will only ever droop when you come in the room greeting him a lovely evening, and he will sigh.
“I told you not to wait up for me.”
He will depart for his room before he can hear your explanation.
It leaves you hanging, hollow with bitter hope and refusal to believe that you both have reached that time in life where he doesn’t need you as much.
Each time he turns his back, you are filled to the brim with sorrow you didn’t know you’re capable of holding.
Retreating to the upper floor of your home, you will stay at the balcony sighing your concerns away to the stars. To the place where you believe your parents are staying, listening to your bouts of frustration and worry.
“Was I a good sibling for him, mother? Father?” you’ll sometimes mutter as you play with your silver locks, the only thing you share with your sibling other than the forgotten name of a once esteemed clan.
And as you vent all these to the stars, you remain oblivious to the lone figure hiding by the shadows in the adjacent room. His frown is tiny. Sad, but not guilty.
Kazuha will leave once again before he’ll hear his sister’s frustrated cries.
Sometimes, he will chew over it when he is wandering Inazuma—thinking, pondering if perhaps there could’ve been a way to say it without hurting his sibling. But as he contemplates over and over, he finds that there is no easy method to admitting the truth.
His friend Tomo, albeit not being told anything, is naturally cognizant of the things revolving around the silver-haired siblings. The older sister’s presence has been diminishing and he can count her appearances at Kazuha’s side getting less.
He has implied several times to make up with the female even if they had no outright argument, and when faced with a baffled question of ‘why’, Tomo only smiles.
“Because you’re family.”
So simple and yet—when Kazuha thinks of the matter a minute longer, the taste in his tongue becomes acrid.
“What upsets you?” his friend questions as he coos over his white feline, “You’re not the Kazuha who’s always crying for big sister, heh.”
The silverette cannot even find it within him to send a retort. His silence, to others, is a message that typifies a want to be alone—but to Tomo, who has known him since they’re both children, that silence is different.
With a hum, he stretches his limbs, yawning as his cat rolls around the grass.
“You know, [Name] won’t hate you for wanting it,” he starts, “You want to wander, don’t you? But you feel like you’re tied down. You’re grounded—because [Name] is here.”
Kazuha flinches and his friend snickers.
Spot on.
“I’m just going to repeat what I said because I meant it, Kazuha. Tell her the truth. She’s literally the most understanding person I know—it’s not like she’s going to despise you for wanting something.”
“… I’ll think about it.”
Tomo sighs. It’s not what I was hoping for but it’s a start.
Remembering something that moment, Tomo lets out a loud scream that nearly sent his friend toppling in the nearby stream of water. Kazuha looks on with slightly wide eyes as the other man jumps to his feet, violet eyes gleaming.
“Oh, right! I plan to initiate another challenge!”
Another challenge…
Kazuha closes his eyes with a hum, “I do hope you’ll last another. You’ve been faced with the worst of the worst.”
The chuckles that leave his friend’s lips are excited and sort of expectant.
“It’s going to be the ultimate one of all! So if you’ll excuse me~”
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
Perhaps a talk with your brother will do you both good.
You’ve both been acting like strangers walking on eggshells underneath the same house and it is driving you insane. He’s not even looking you in the eye anymore!
Given his quiet personality, confrontation will be difficult, but he’s a cooperative person. Besides, he always hears you out.
There isn’t any reason for him not to when he knows that this will be done only for the betterment of the future.
So, with a nervous disposition but eager heart to settle things right, you lift the basket from its place with plans to head over to the market. It’s an hour or two before dusk, just the perfect time to shop for dinner.
“Mm.. some dry-braised salted fish for tonight sounds lovely.” You muse, remembering how the dish is your brother’s favorite.
Ah, the number of tries he takes to perfect and stylish it into his own can’t be forgotten.
It doesn’t take too long to cook it, but you’ll be making tons of other side dishes and dessert, so it’s best to start early!
You exit the abode, the smile on your face present as ever even when you’re greeted outside by a couple of Shogunate Soldiers. Their features appear sterner, their hold on their naginata rock solid.
“Are you Kaedehara [Name]?”
Hm?
“Yes. Can I help you?”
The soldiers lunge forward, spears falling to a position pointing at you from all possible angles, cutting any means of escape as you furrow your brows. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“Your brother has defied the Decree of the Shogun and was hereby declared a criminal. Going against an Imperial Decree results in punishment inclusive to his immediate family.”
Your basket falls to the ground.
Thud!
Kazuha’s feet create a loud sound following his landing, a breath of panic expelling past as he rushes away.
The warmth in his hand escalates to a scalding degree, burning and searing like the fading power of Electro held within the golden casing.
To think that that was what Tomo meant.. !
He does not feel anger, no, just the burn of desperation and want to hide his friend’s Vision because he doesn’t want it to be taken away—to be placed in that statue that displays the lost ambitions of many others.
He’ll be damned before the Shogunate can take it… !
The criminal evades those at his tail, making swift maneuvers on rooftops and alleys without a second thought. His limbs are answering his every command, be it to duck, to jump—or to even draw his blade.
He is still ways away from the port but getting there won’t prove to be too complex for someone like him. He’s cut down plenty of the samurai in his escape from Tenshukaku,
Tomo…
“You’re family. Tell her.”
Family—
“This is the first one in a long time I’ve heard of it being extended-! To whom again? The clan that has lost its prestige a decade ago, right?” he almost trips in his sprinting, darting to an alleyway so he can further eavesdrop.
Did I hear that correctly?
A relieved sigh escapes when those chasing him run past his hiding spot.
Sucking in his breath, the silverette tightens his grip on the faded Vision of his best friend as he listens in the hushed conversation.
“Be quiet!” someone hisses, “If someone overhears us, what next? Still, I do feel bad.. they lost so much already. I can’t believe they’d drag an innocent person into it, too..”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do. The Shogun issued the penalty to immediate families, right? As far as I know, there are only two Kaedeharas left—”
Kazuha feels his heart stopping. Kaede..hara?
There’s no mistaking it.
But why—?
Why would a punishment meant for him extend to her?
She’s innocent!
Going off-course, he sprints in the direction of his house. The house that he lives in with his sister who takes great care of him—the same sister he’s willing to leave in favor of chasing what he wants in life.
He’s willing to, but he doesn’t.
Because perhaps—perhaps if he stayed and buried his desire, then he will amount to the same greatness she has done for him. But he cannot stand it, either. As patient as he is, as kind and ‘gentle’, [Name] can always see through his face.
He’s always been antsy—always itching to wander and he’s stumped that his sister is well-aware of that fact. Still, she’s always playing the ignorant one, pretending not to care- still coddling him as if he’s little and he’s had… enough of it.
But now that the situation has pinned this misfortune upon them, the ronin realizes that she’s only pretending for his sake, as well.
“Cut that out, I don’t need it. I fear that.. you will only embarrass yourself.”
Wasn’t it him who refused to tell her of his want to roam free in the first place?
“I understand that I am your brother—but there is no need to worry over me all the time. I can look after myself, [Name]. Do worry about something else, instead.”
Wasn’t it him who stuck around, still?
The bitterness in his tongue increases with each leap of his feet. He doesn’t even process the race of his heart as he’s carried through the same path that leads him home. To his family—to his only sister.
Everything seems to pass by slowly, in a blur, like the specks that decorate his vision the more his mind throws stacks and stacks of memories. This is madness.
Complete and utter madness.
He rounds the corner to see the figure of his only sibling, her back turned to him—she cannot see him, but he can see the armed soldiers flanking around her.
His throat tightens and certainly, he wouldn’t have been able to utter a word due to how it feels like his throat has been crushed.
“[Name]!”
Yet, the furious scream that tears past his lips denies all kinds of ‘impossibility’ the instant he sees the female falling to the ground, the sight of red splatter making him draw his blade.
Whoosh!
The summoned wind is opposingly gentle to the brewing storm in someone’s beautiful carmine eyes.
“[Name]-.. !”
That voice.. Kazuha?
Sometimes, the depth of emotion in Kazuha’s eyes is too deep for you to understand. Despite being so silent, he’s so, so expressive with his stares.
That even when he isn’t trembling when he lifts your torso, you know how much he’s quaking from within.
“What are you.. doing here? You have to go,” you cough red when he adjusts you in his arms, the sight of the fallen soldiers reminding you of the situation at hand. “Quick—before they.. catch you.”
He shakes his head,
“I’m taking you with me, I have a boat prepared, come, let’s—”
“Don’t lie to me, Kazuha.”
He pauses, flitting his gaze down to meet yours. You hate how you can’t seem to focus on him, though. Your sight is blurring in and out, only providing small intervals of clarity where you can see the panic in his features.
A sight you didn’t think you’d see on him until now.
“I know you made it for yourself. You’ve been planning to leave home, weren’t you? I’m not..” you’re not oblivious to his wish, “I’m not mad. I was only holding you back, wasn’t I?”
He sucks in a breath.
“I-I-“
What was he supposed to say?
Weakly tapping his arm, you start taking quick breaths—just to take in all the air you can while tolerating the gaping wound from being impaled.
It hurts. You want to scream. It hurts.
But you don’t—because you do not want to appear weak to your brother.
You promised mother and father that you will not cry when faced with problems—he mustn’t see, Kazuha mustn’t see. But at this moment, you just want to break apart. Disbelief is kicking in, you can’t believe this is happening.
When—where did everything go wrong?
“Besides, I’m not of use to you anymore. As if I’ll last the journey to Liyue-“
“Don’t say that!”
You blink owlishly, gasping out in pain when his hand presses against your wound, futilely attempting to hold back the bleeding.
“K-Kazuha?”
Your own hand shakily plants itself atop his own, helping him press—as if his hand isn’t heavy enough to stop the flow—it down. It will hurt, but you can’t say for sure. You’ve already grown numb and your head is swimming.
Still, you focus on him.
Still, you help him apply pressure even if you know—even if he knows—that it’s too late.
“Don’t say that. You’ve..” his voice cracks, “You’ve done so much, [Name], you-“
You took over the clan household when our parents died. You struggled to make ends meet for both of us. And yet.. all I do.. all I do is… !
Kazuha angrily bites on his lip, his hold on his composure beginning to slip as his mind throws in a reel of olden days.
“I’m leaving, [Name]. Please don’t wait up, I may take longer.”
“I’m grateful, but I don’t need that anymore.”
“Stop that, already.”
He dips his head with a muffled cry. All I do is wander and desire for a future where I can roam freely. I haven’t even thought of you..!
“You’ve grown, Kazuha,” he snaps back into this harsh reality when he feels the hand atop his disappear, presently moving to brush his messy locks.
He doesn’t know why all of a sudden his sight is becoming misty, but perhaps—perhaps it is because he remembers when his sister used to brush his hair the same way with a loving smile.
It is the same touch he flees from nowadays.
The same touch now—the same loving smile.
“As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right—you’ve grown so much.. and I’m still clinging onto the past.”
So lively, so beautiful and yet—
“You’re strong now..”
Yet it’s dying.
He presses harder on his sibling’s wound, almost sadistically—as if he’s hoping that it’ll ignite a painful reaction. “[Name], please, let me-“
Because if it hurt—then it means she’s still okay. She’s still responding.
“So capable.. so independent, you are.”
So why—? He almost chokes out a sob. Why are you not reacting to it!?
“Mother and father would be so proud of you. I am sorry if I was lacking in any way.”
“Please, [Name], you can’t do this.” He trembles, the composure he created so, so close to breaking as he gives up on endeavors that are pointless, to begin with. Instead, he tilts his head up, wishing to curse the heavens above.
For everything.
“I’m happy to be your sister, and.. I’m proud of you… Kazu..”
“Wait-“ he stumbles over his words, catching the falling hand of his sibling and registering how deathly pale she has gotten in a matter of seconds. “Wait, please—I-“
As much as he wants to voice out he’s sorry. For many things; for turning his back on her, for being distant when all they have is each other, he’s unable to find his voice when he sees the tears dripping out of his sister’s [c] eyes.
His strong older sister—weeping. It’s the first time he has seen her cry.
Her smile trembles—
“I love you. My nice.. little.. brother.”
—And her [c]s are then hidden forever.
The way she endearingly called him in her dying breath has him freezing, his heart pausing as if he had died along with her. But then the spark of pain welcomes him back to reality—to life.
And then he is leaning over her.
“[Name]..” breathless whispers escalate into panicked murmurs. “[Name]?”
His heart is pounding in his chest as he tries to shake her awake, like when he’d do when he’s eight and awake from an awful dream.
“Nee-san.. can I sleep by your side tonight?”
And although her [c] eyes are tired, she will still smile. “Okay.”
And she’d keep watch over him the whole night.
He’s reminded of it when he hopelessly shakes her awake, to no obvious avail. But he keeps grasping her arms, anyway, like he used to many years ago.
But things are different now.
“[Name]—[N-Name]!?”
He said it himself—he’s no longer a child.
“Please, don’t leave me- I- you’re all I have left!” The ronin’s composure finally breaks loose and his tears begin landing like a profuse waterfall. His uncontained sobs remain unheard.
This time, there is no one to wake him up from his nightmares.
“No—no, no- no, please..!” Kazuha weeps as he holds his sister’s cold hand, shakily pressing it to his forehead, imitating the sweet action she has always given him. A hand on his head, on his shoulder—or on his cheek if he’s tearful. “You can’t!”
She’ll tell him not to be sad because it’ll make her sad, too.
And he’ll hurriedly wipe his tears because ‘no! big sister mustn’t feel sad because of me!’.
Then [Name] will muster a smile as bright as the sun and hold his face in her warm hands, and press a kiss on his forehead. He’ll get red and thrash around, whining, ‘onee-san!’. And about how embarrassing it is so she mustn’t do it anymore.
Now, he is holding her hand in his own, trying to remember the same warmth it emitted just a day ago. Just a few hours ago. How long has it been?
And when he doesn’t feel the warmth—when he doesn’t remember the warmth, when all he feels is the cold and the obvious lack of love, Kazuha breaks apart.
His heart squeezes and his tears spill more, his lips parting to release the honorific he has dropped a long, long time ago. “Nee-san!”
“You don’t call me ‘nee-san’ nowadays,”
“Onee-san!”
“My, you’ve grown so much, Kazu!”
“Onee-san!”
I’m calling you. He cries, like a picture of misery. So why aren’t you waking up? Sister! He cries, like a heartbroken child.
The winds around him pick up, warning him of incoming men sent to apprehend and penalize him the same way they did to his sibling. It’s suffocating—maddening, even, and he wants to tear them all down himself.
But [Name] wouldn’t like that.
So, with a muted cry and bolster of willpower, he tears himself from the body of his kin, trembling.
He can hear the thundering steps of the samurai as he hurries to untangle the same black and red scarf [Name] has once attempted to give him. The same fabric he has rejected.
“I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry.” he hugs her with all his might, with his soul, and with his heart before he’s back up on his feet and running. I love you, too, nee-san.
“Get him!” someone roars from behind.
And although he wishes to turn and slice them away, he couldn’t—because he’d be seeing the fallen figure of the same person he had neglected to cherish. So, instead, he nestles the scarf around his neck whilst clutching onto the Vision of his friend.
Down the path, he runs.
Years ago, he will be accompanied by the people he loves, chasing a faraway future.
Now he is running on the same path alone, running after a dream that can now be turned into reality.
Far from Inazuma.
Far from home.
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
a/n: did it hurt-
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ Return to the Scrying Glass ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
≿————- taglist ————-≾
@lehra @melkxsh
-> pairing: aether x reader
requested? yes .. no
cw: nsfw ( minors dni ), dumbification, dacryphilia, edging if you squint, multiple orgasms, sir k., no prep, ahegao, degrading, begging
please note this has not been proofread and there may be grammatical and spelling errors.
as a member of the knights of favonius, you knew about the "hotshot" of the knights. kaeya's stories about him made you excited. lisa said they were a 'cutie', and you knew then and there you had to try them out.
you asked jean to call them to her office, telling her it was important. she did so, assuming you were just excited to meet the new honorary member. as he arrives, jean takes her leave, allowing the two of you to have some 'private time' together.
"so, has kaeya told you about my endurance training?" it was a genuine question. you had 'trained' some of the knights, and you wondered if any of them had taken the time to warn him.
"no." aether's reply was curt, firm. you licked your lips, he would be fun to break. in a swift motion your lips were on his, savouring his taste. you forced your tongue onto his, exploring his wet cavern whilst you hear him moan. as you pull away, he opens his mouth to retort, but you pinned his body against the desk.
"this can go one of two ways, aether. either you make this easy for me, or i can some fun trying to break you," you tease, lifting his shirt to play with his nipples.
"f-fuck off..." he moans, trying to push you off of him. "don't touch me."
"your body seems to say otherwise," you reply slyly. "i can see your erection through your pants. you're suck a whore."
hearing aether pant as he struggles to get you off of him eggs you on further. you get onto your knees, slipping his pants down as you take his throbbing erection into your mouth.
"st-stop, please..." he moans, but his body betrays him as he bucks his hips into your touch. "we shouldn't be doing this... i don't want this."
you ignore him, feeling him hit the back of your throat. the high-pitched, breathy moan he releases as you do so is palatable, satisfactory. "stop... if you keep doing that, i'm- ah- m'gonna cum!"
as those words leave him mouth, you stop. he whines, placing a hand in your hair as he begs you with his eyes to continue to suck him off. you chuckle, turning him around and forcing yourself inside.
"s-sir, fuck!" it stings, you weren't even fully in and yet you were still hitting his prostrate. "i-it hurts... please stop..~"
"let's see how long it takes for you to cum, hotshot." and without warning, you're thrusting in and out of him. his ass clenches around you as he screams out slurred yeses and fucks. sloppy tears are falling from his eyes as he feels himself cumming, velvet walls clenching tightly around you as he reaches his orgasm.
"that's not very long," you tease. "you still need a lot of training, but don't worry. that's what i'm here for." listenimg to his incomprehensible, slurred babbles arouses you to no end. "listen to you, such a whore. being so slutty when you asked me to stop before."
"hah ~ s-sir! fuck me harder, please! feels, hnng, feels so good!" you do as he asks, speeding up your pace as you feel his walls clench around you again. "yesh, m'gonna- m'gonna cum!"
you stop, and aether whimpers as you smack.his ass. "why'd you stop..."
"you asked me to. if you want me to fuck you, beg for it. tell me how much a whore like you wants my cock," you tease, thrusting into him and watching as he arches his back.
"please, sir fuck me. i want you pound me with your cock, please~ destroy me, fuck me so hard i can't walk. milk me dry, please. i need it."
before he can say anything else, you're pounding him into oblivion. his face is pressed into the desk, and he's crying out your name repeatedly like it's some sort of holy mantra. saliva is dripping down his chin as his tongue lolls out, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
"m'gonna cum! fuck yeah~ pound my ass, sir!" aether screams out as you constantly hit his prostrate, feeling his orgasm wash over him as he cums again. his hole clamps down on you, pushing you over the edge as you cum inside him, filling him with your seed.
"i expect to see you here tomorrow," you coo, but aether's mind is long gone.
FINGERS TWISTED BEHIND MY BACK (DON'T LET IT BE YOU I LACK) ── aventurine x gn!reader, 862
aventurine hates fighting with you.
he does not even remember it—not clearly, at least. through the memories mudded by the buzz of soulglad and whatever alcoholic beverages he'd guzzled down the night before, the exact expression of your face when he stumbled back into your hotel room is a blur (a pretty blur, he is quite sure, though no doubt a disappointed one) and the sentences you'd spat out at him were jumbled into words that grate in his eardrums when he tries to recall what exactly was said. aventurine tries to echo it to himself, but even the incoherence sounds bitter on his tongue, and all that comes out an indistinct, asthmatic gasp that he's quite sure is some sort of equivalent of his heart aching. or breaking. somewhere in between, perhaps.
he rolls over in your bed, damp from the shower and tears. aventurine is thankful veritas hasn't stormed in to nag at him; he would not be able to stomach being seen like this by anyone else but you: his sweet safe haven, his little eden. you've gone now, stormed off somewhere to cool off. aventurine leaves you be (even if he spent the first two hours alone relentlessly spamming your phone with messages, pleas to come back and return) but he is still alone.
the thought occurred to him somewhere between hour three and hour five, that you'd never come back. aventurine doesn't let it linger. his stomach roils, mouth tasting of bitter alcohol and sweet dreams where you are still there and he'd never upset you.
the hours he spends there without you are hellish, a parody of a bleak, grief-stricken painting of some woman whose husband has gone out to fight in an intergalactic war—draped over the bed, numb and miserable to everything but the thought of you he has to conjure every now and then to keep himself sane. the air is cold and never seems to adjust, even though the reverie's rooms are specifically designed to tailor to the guest's tastes. they clearly did not consider the factor that is a hopeless, lovesick man suffering from withdrawal.
the door creaks open.
aventurine darts up in his your bed, instantly whipping myself up into such a nervous, edgy frenzy that he almost forgets how to breathe. his lungs shudder, the cogs in his brain turning the wrong way, and nothing is working fast enough, right enough as he stumbles to his feet, nearly tripping over the carpet as he finds you toeing off your shoes at the door, so pretty it hurts.
"welcome home," aventurine manages to choke out, still tripped-out and dizzy, heart pounding loud in his fingertips and ears. he watches you glance up at him, your eyes meeting his own for the first time in hours that feel like centuries, and the burden on his lungs alleviates—just a little bit.
"…aventurine," you sigh in this throaty, broken voice that cuts right at his chest. he winces as if he's been struck, eyes flitting to the dizzying pattern of the carpet in effort to hide the glossiness of his irises.
he hears your feet padding across the room to him, the footfalls soft and slow and not at all violent, though he cannot help but fear. there can always be a finality to the softest, gentlest of mercies. not that aventurine has ever experienced it before, but he knows it is possible with you: you who holds his heart in your hands, and you may very well tear it apart if you so wished.
aventurine will let you, if that is what you want.
but instead he swallows, too loudly; finds his fingers instinctively twisting behind his back. "are you going?"
"i just arrived," you whisper, endlessly gentle, endlessly soft—forgiving.
"i know," his voice breaks, and you reach out to touch him—palm against cheek, thumb brushing over the slope of his cheekbone. something cold and damp trails over the flesh of his face, fair marble streaked with a single rivulet of a tear. he does not tell you why he wants to cry. you know anyway.
aventurine thinks pretending would be easier with you, but here in this room, at the end of the day when everyone else has escaped into their own dreamscape, he is tired of saccharine sweet lies, the twisting webs that he pulls around without even understanding the final result it will conjure. it is easier, he thinks, to let you keep his heart and do with it as you wish—and aventurine can only hope that you will be merciful.
are you going? the second set of three words, that single question that he truly wants to ask is caught in his throat, because you may hold aventurine's heart in your palms, but if you will not use your own bloody fingers to pry it open, he must do it for you—and he can't. not for this, at least.
but you know anyway. of course you do.
will you stay?
"i'm right here," you murmur, sweet and godly against his lips, swallowing the sob that he almost lets out. "i'm staying right here."
© trappolia 2024
Original artist: こえだ (koeda) ll twitter
Source: here ll chinese ver.
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Can you write "You smile like an idiot when you are talking to them." with Kazuha?
Here you go anon! Got some help from @officialscaramouche with the plot here!
When you first joined the resistance, Kazuha was the one who didn't seem to be too bothered by you. It wasn't so much that he didn't like nor trust you, but it was rather that he seemed rather preoccupied. Often, the two of you would just sit, indulging in the sounds nature let out in harmony before he had to go for something else or you left when his friend came along, not wanting to be the awkward third wheel in the interaction.
Kazuha ran away with his friends dead vision in his hand, and when news came back to the resistance, you barely hold back your feelings. It was rather embarrassing to exhibit the feelings you had, practically beaming even thinking about seeing your friend again. Deep down you knew you had more than platonic feelings for him, but you never pursued these out of the fear of it breaking your connection with him entirely. Kokomi spoke to you after seeing how uncharacteristically quiet you got, knowing you had feelings for Kazuha. It was like the only person who didn't know how you felt about Kazuha was, well, Kazuha. The conversation was rather empty, only giving you a pat on the back before she explained Kazuha wasn't going to be back for some time. You nod your head, not giving a verbal reply.
"I think its cute." Kokomi hummed, catching on to how your eyes lightened up at the possibility of Kazuha returning, no matter how viable it was. "When you're with him, you smile like an idiot." She giggles, walking away.
Looking down at your feet, you feel rather embarrassed that you were acting so blatantly about how you felt, thinking back to it. You didn't even try to hide it! That probably didn't help Kazuha when he was on missions, likely getting daft comments about you looking at him like he was the best thing since sliced bread. You continue your missions, not letting the comments on your crush get to you. After a particularly difficult mission, you return to handover to Kokomi, surprised when she gives you an enthusiastic smile.
"Kazuha's back!" She sings.
You hand over like she didn't say anything, turning to leave before Kokomi stops you again.
"Kazuha's been with Gorou for a bit, they should be back from their mission in a while." She tries to get you to wait with her. "I'm sure he'd like to talk to you."
Knowing she wouldn't let you do any work until you admit your feelings to Kazuha, you leave, instead going to one of the other generals to get missions from them that weren't backed up by Kokomi due to the mission being rather risky, with little to no benefit.
--
"Hey, I just realised something." Gorou hums after dodging attacks from an enemy, putting them down swiftly. "You smile like an idiot when I mention their name!" He beams, looking to the side where Kazuha was as calm and collected as always.
"Is it so wrong to yearn for a friend?" Kazuha sings out, ignoring Gorou laughing as he runs away to help out other soldiers with their battles.
--
You didn't expect to be run into by a Ruin Guard, but you were rather relieved when you got rather lucky. The Guard was rather easy to dodge, allowing you to strategise the best way to take this down for materials. Luck seemed to be on your side, it seemed, as a strike of lightning zaps down on the enemy when it stopped in the water, essentially rendering it too weak to move. A single arrow is the last thing it needed to be brought down, and the Guard drops nothing. Sighing to yourself, you look around and see no other Guards in the area.
Returning to the camp, you report back to the general, explaining you were unable to get any materials from that particular enemy.
"Ah, there you are." Gorou huffs out, grasping your arm and glaring at the other general before heading off to the room that was known to many as the 'interrogation room'. Before you can protest, Gorou throws you in, locking the room before you could wiggle out. Feeling a pair of eyes behind you, you didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
The familiar scent, the familiar hum in the air, the familiar calmness emmanating from the other side of the room. You dare not turn around, knowing you would be unable to hold back how you felt when your heart swelled at Kazuha.
"Let me out, General!" You yell, trying to pick at the lock before you feel someone kick the door, making you fall on your ass. When you feel someone shuffling to get closer to you, you scold yourself for returning as early as you did.
"Can we talk?" Kazuha hummed into your ear, making you jump. Steadying your breathing, you don't turn around.
"I'm trying to move on." You explain, trying to convince yourself more than Kazuha. "I've embarrassed you enough with my prior acti-"
You feel two arms around you, Kazuha finding his head nestled in your neck. You find yourself relaxing into his touch, and Kazuha adjusts his grip so he's spooning you.
"I missed you." Kazuha kisses your cheek, laughing when he can feel your cheeks warm up at this action.
---
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A walking joke that can't do shit but cry Names Mia, 18y/o artist , 🇲🇾🇲🇾, trying so hard atm
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