STAR-SHAPED BRUISES ✦ He Who Once Felt The Cold Touch Of Death Before, So Why Did It Matter If He Risked

beautiful stranger (kim sungho)

a beautiful stranger has come to save the day!

sungho x gn!reader (college au) 

word count: 4.5k 

genre + warnings: one (1) pinch of angst, cursing, written in all lowercase, a really really really bad date (it’s a random dude dw), sungho is pining badddd!

a/n: biggest sungho brainrot in the woooorrrrld!!!!!shoutout my babygirl jas for giving me the inspo for this <3 (and beta reading as always :3) this was heavily based on beautiful stranger by laufey!  i'd suggest listening to it before/while reading ^_^

dating felt like a hassle. it wasn’t that you weren’t looking for a relationship– if anything, you were more of a hopeless romantic than anything else. pinterest boards full of couple poses you only dreamt of remaking with your partner when you finally had the opportunity to, a page in your notes app dedicated to sweet date ideas, countless playlists full of love songs you’d want to be posted to one day. instead, each failed date chipped away the hope you once held about being in love. 

it was hard to blame yourself for the disappointment you felt every time you had to restart the cycle of getting to know a potential love interest. how many times could you talk about trivial matters you’ve discussed with people who ultimately end up leaving your life? what’s your favorite color? do you have any pets? did you play any sports in high school? it was repetitive, redundant, and utterly boring, to say the least. 

living in a college town didn’t help either. college students seemed to thrive on the idea of a temporary fling– something “casual” is what they liked to call it. you, on the other hand, could not fathom the idea of love being “casual”. relationships seemed to work backwards; it was nothing like what you grew up seeing in the movies. hooking up amidst a drunken haze, waking up the next morning with fuzzy memories of the person you shared an intimate night with. only then do people decide whether or not their one-night-stands are “worth” getting to know properly. everything was so… wrong. 

coming to university made you realize that trying to perpetuate your idea of romance would be difficult, especially when nobody seemed to take anything seriously anymore. but the hopeless romantic in you would never back down– you were determined to experience something at least remotely similar to the type of love you saw on TV in your last years as a student. so here you were, all dolled up, waiting to meet a guy you’ve been talking to for the past two weeks.

you met on a dating app, having swiped right after laughing at one of his prompts. sometimes, you were ashamed to admit you even bothered making a profile, but it felt like your last resort at this point. his name was minwoo, a graphic design major just one year above you. strictly based on his profile, he seemed sweet. unlike many others you’ve seen on the app, his pictures weren’t too flashy. almost too normal, even. your conversations were surprisingly more mentally stimulating than you’d expected from a dating app, which gave you some hope. at least he was capable of talking to someone like a normal human being, right? 

minwoo asked you on a date soon after you first exchanged numbers, but schedule conflicts on both ends kept pushing it further and further away. despite all the obstacles, he still seemed interested. this was uncommon amongst the men you met on there, finding that most of them would ghost you if you weren’t willing to come see them merely days after matching. probably just losers looking for a quick hook-up. maybe this time, the dating-app gods decided it was time to give you someone good. 

you agreed to meeting him only after making sure it would take place in the middle of the day in a public location on campus, where you knew it’d be safe. minwoo didn’t seem to mind, rather going along with whatever you said without complaint. you suggested a bakery that you frequented– the location was popular among students for their cheap drinks and cozy atmosphere that made a perfect spot to settle down and study for hours. being a regular there meant you were familiar with the workers, which gave you comfort knowing you had a familiar face nearby in case the date went south. 

you’re pleased to see other familiar faces when you first walk through the bakery’s entrance– finding strangers you’ve seen before doing work on their laptops or enjoying an afternoon pastry. you got there 10 minutes earlier than your set meeting time, in an attempt to avoid an awkward meeting outside. first dates always make you nervous; not to mention the fact that this was a stranger you found on a dating app. what if you’re nothing like your pictures? will the conversations flow as well as they do through text? hell, what if you got catfished? 

you push away your thoughts, regaining your composure as you take out a compact mirror from your bag to retouch your makeup. each time the chime above the door jingled, you found yourself turning to see if it was minwoo. it was now 2:13pm, almost fifteen minutes after you agreed to meet. you place your hands neatly in your lap, observing your surroundings briefly. 

you share a fleeting moment of eye contact with a man by himself at a table by the wall, holding his page in the novel he was holding. you recognized him as another regular, having seen him occasionally when you’d stop by for a coffee. he was wearing a denim baseball hat, which covered most of his face. he gives you a small smile, but you pull your gaze away quickly. you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed at the fact that you were sitting alone in the middle of the store, sitting at an empty table because you refrained from ordering something before minwoo got there. 

truthfully, sungho had seen you there before. to him, you were nothing more than a beautiful stranger, one he had the pleasure of seeing more often than not when he would show up to his local bakery. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to the chance of seeing you every time he came in, sometimes even going as far to dress a little better if he felt like you’d be there that day. he was a bit shy to admit that he’d memorized your order with how often you showed up, hearing the baristas call out the drink and watching you pick it up. even he thought it was a little creepy, but it’s not like he’d ever act on his attraction, right? 

hm, maybe they’re waiting for someone? sungho thinks to himself, completely forgetting about the book he was previously reading. makes sense for someone as breathtaking as you to be in a relationship. he finds himself a bit disappointed as he sinks into his seat slightly. he’s brought out of his thoughts as the familiar bells above the door ring again, signaling a new customer. a sleazy looking guy walks in, and he watches as you perk up at the sight. that’s the guy you’re meeting? sungho’s annoyed at the way your date is dressed in sweatpants and a worn out band tee when your hair is done to perfection to match the cute outfit you had on. 

you promptly stand up as minwoo looks around the bakery for where you were, motioning for him to come over to your table. you feel a bit overdressed now that you see what he’s wearing. once he sees you, he smiles as he gives you an awkward side hug. first dates are always awkward like this, you shouldn’t mark it off as a disaster just yet. 

“it’s nice to finally meet you, yunjin!” what? 

“ah, it’s Y/N, actually.” you awkwardly laugh, hoping he was just making an off- putting joke. surely he wouldn’t get your name wrong.

“pfft, yeah i was just kidding! yunjin’s my mom’s name.” you raise your eyebrow at the comment, finding it weird to think that he’d go on a date with someone with the same name as his mother. “is this place any good?” 

“yeah! i go here a lot, actually. they make all the pastries in the back, so you know they’re gonna be tasty.” minwoo merely nods at your comment, walking over to the counter to order. you follow behind him, looking at all the cake slices on display once you get there. 

you smile at the person behind the register. they give you a quizzical look, side-eyeing the guy next to you. you were normally alone, so it was odd to see someone with you this time around. you shrug nonchalantly and hold in a giggle, glad that minwoo was too busy looking at the menu to see your interaction. 

“i’ll have an iced coffee… and get me one of those croissants over there.” minwoo orders rudely, speaking too fast for the worker to tap in the order on the screen. you watch as they frantically press buttons on the screen, waiting for them to finish before you say your regular order. 

once the barista looks up at you, you open your mouth to speak, only to be cut off. “and for you, a small caramel macchiato, right?” you beam back at them, finding it sweet to think they know your order by heart. 

“you got it! i think that’ll be it for us today, thank you!” the total shows up on the small screen in front of you, card reader lighting up as it waits for payment. you turn to look at your date, expecting him to pull out his wallet to pay, but his hands are resting firmly in his pockets as he looks around the rest of the bakery. you send a sorry look to the worker for the hold-up before you take your card from your purse and tapping it on the reader. it’s not that you cared much about who paid, but rather the fact that he didn’t even try to do so rubbed you the wrong way. 

“thank you! we’ll bring it to you once it’s done.” minwoo’s already on his way back to the table before the receipt is printed. your lips pursed as you take the piece of paper and shove it into your purse, thanking the worker once more.

sungho can’t help but notice the way you look defeated as you walk back to the table alone. maybe it isn’t your boyfriend. what kind of man makes you pay on a date? he scoots his chair a bit closer to your table, glad he was sitting somewhat close to yours. a little eavesdropping wouldn’t hurt anyone. he was just curious, that’s all. 

“sorry, i left my wallet at my dorm.” minwoo explains to you sheepishly. first, he shows up late without apology or explanation. next, you’re called the wrong name. then, he makes you pay for his order. it can only get better from here, right? 

“ah, it’s no worries!” you lie– everything he’s done so far has done nothing but raise red flags in your head, but you remain optimistic. you place your hands on the table, waiting for him to start up the conversation… except, he doesn’t. instead, he’s on his phone tapping away, presumably texting someone. it must be urgent if he needs to reply right then and there, right in front of you. 

you clear your throat, which makes him look up from his screen. “so, you’re in graphic design right?” it’s a topic you didn’t discuss much in your texts, so you felt like it would be a good way to break the ice. 

“eh, yeah. honestly, it’s kind of a joke major,” he comments dryly. his attention is entirely on his phone. 

“what made you pick it then?” you’re desperately trying to keep up the topic. 

“well, my friend said it was easy. plus, i play a lot of video games so i thought it’d be pretty cool.” he picked his major… because it was easy? minwoo continues texting away, when suddenly he scoffs at what he’s reading. “gosh, this bitch…” 

you’re completely flabbergasted at this point. “excuse me?” is he talking to you? sungho’s equally as shocked at his words, letting out a gasp when he hears what minwoo said. 

“sorry, my sister’s just asking me to pick up something on my way home.” 

“oh, i see.” now would be a good time for your drinks to arrive– you weren’t sure what to say anymore. if anything, you weren’t sure if you wanted to keep up a conversation with someone who spoke about his family in such a way. “...i thought you said you lived in the dorms, though?” 

“ah, did i? i live at home with my family.” you tilt your head at him in confusion. you were certain he said he lived in the dorms just seconds ago. it was a weird thing to lie about. why bluff about something so trivial? 

“here are your drinks!” a different worker from before comes up to your table with a tray, placing your order in the middle of the table. minwoo immediately reaches for his own, drinking from the straw before gagging at the taste. 

“hey, this is so bitter. is this how you guys normally make it?” the boy is clearly flustered, looking back and forth between you two. “there’s no way this place takes that long to make an iced coffee if it tastes like this!” you notice the way he’s struggling to answer minwoo’s outburst. 

sungho rolls his eyes. he hasn’t looked at his book in ages, finding your date far more interesting. has this douche never been to a coffee shop before?

“it’s supposed to be like that, yeah. we have sugar in the corner for customers to adjust the sweetness themselves.” the worker explains calmly, motioning to the coffee station by the garbage. he was one of the newer hires, but he resolved the situation well. 

minwoo takes his drink, clearly annoyed as he goes to add sugar. you quickly apologize for his behavior once he’s gone, and the worker gives you a face of understanding before taking the tray back to the kitchen. 

you take a sip from your own drink, finding it made to perfection, as usual. even when you first tried their iced coffee, you can’t recall it being that bad. at least, not gross enough to make a scene. glancing at your watch, you noticed it’s only been twenty minutes since minwoo arrived. it felt like you were there for hours– in the worst way possible. 

minwoo returns to his seat, seemingly satisfied with his coffee now. “i can’t believe they sell shit like this. what’s the point of buying it if i have to make it myself?” he was so… pretentious. it was annoying. 

“i mean, not everyone likes their drinks sweet, so i think it makes sense-” 

minwoo puts his hand in front of your face to shut you up. “well, i do. they should just do it right the first time.” 

you lean back, shocked at the way he nearly hit you with his movements. “it’s not like they know how your preferences.”

“jesus Y/N, you sound like my ex right now!”

“...your ex?” maybe you weren’t the most well-versed when it came to dating, but you knew better than to mention other people to the person you were currently talking to. 

“yeah, my ex was like, batshit crazy. she would always be on my ass about how often i’d go out to the bars with my friends, it was ridiculous! a guy just needs to have fun sometimes, right?” there wasn’t anything explicitly wrong with wanting to go party with your friends, but why did he need to do all that if he was in a relationship? to you, it felt like a valid thing to be angry about. if it was something severe enough for her to lash out on him like that, it must’ve been serious. you can’t find it in you to blame the poor girl, especially if she had to put up with his immaturity all the time.

you don’t have anything to say as you swirl the drink around in your cup, watching as the foam on top melts into the rest of it. this was a disaster. you should’ve known something was wrong with the way minwoo felt like an entirely different person upon meeting. he was nothing like the seemingly kind boy you were texting for the past two weeks. 

suddenly, his phone vibrates on the table. he quickly picks it up before you can see who’s calling, already out of his chair. “sorry, i need to answer this– it’s my sister. i’ll be right back.” minwoo unlocks his phone to answer, his tone much sweeter than it was when he was speaking to you. 

you watch as he walks out the door to take the call outside. suspicion brewed in your gut as you think about what just happened. earlier, he was cursing out his sister, but now he’s smiling on the phone with her? something told you it wasn’t actually his sister calling. 

sungho doesn’t know what gets into him when he finds himself springing to his feet, heading over to your table. in a time like this, he’s grateful that he managed to pick up on your name thanks to the workers. “Y/N, right? this probably isn’t my place, but are you dating that guy?”

you immediately shake your head no, almost disgusted at the thought of being in a relationship with someone like minwoo. 

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s obnoxiously loud. if the music was any quieter, everyone could hear the way he’s acting like an asshole.” your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, thankful that most of the people in there were too focused with their own business to listen in on your horrendous date. 

“yeah, he’s definitely… something. it’s my first time meeting this guy, sorry to bother you over there.” you bow your head slightly, flustered to think that you were burdening one of the regulars by bringing your no-good-date to your favorite bakery.

“it’s your first time meeting and he’s like that?” the stranger lets out a huff of disbelief. “you’re free to say no, but… do you need help? i can pretend to be your friend or something so we can get out of here.” his eyes are full of concern. you’re taken aback at the stranger’s act of kindness, but thankful nonetheless. 

“i’m alright, i think. he was a lot nicer over text, so maybe he just needs to warm up to me or something?” 

the man’s displeased with your response; he would’ve rather you walk out on the date right there. “...okay. i’m sungho, by the way. my seat’s just over there, so just give me a look if you need saving.” sungho returns to his table, looking at you before he picks up his book again and pretends to read. 

“listen, she really wants me to come home soon, so i might have to leave in an hour or so.” one more hour spent with this weirdo. you don’t think you could last another ten minutes. 

“that’s fine, i understand it’s something important!” you’re unsure how you maintain such a cheerful act when it feels like your date lied about who he was on the phone with just moments ago. 

“so, are you doing anything later?” he places his phone face down on the table before leaning back in his chair. this was the first time his attention is entirely on you, but after everything you’ve seen, you’re immediately turned off. 

“probably going to work on some papers i have coming up, i’m pretty swamped right now when it comes to my assignments.” you didn’t actually have anything urgent you needed to work on, but you didn’t want to make yourself available for whatever he was about to propose.

“that’s a shame. i was planning on going out to the new club that opened a couple streets down,” minwoo pouts at you, making you groan in disgust internally. “you’re nice and all, but i can’t help thinking about what you’d really be like once you got some alcohol in ya!” 

“oh… what’s wrong with the way i’m acting now?” 

“well, not that there’s anything bad about you, you just seem a bit… uptight! i was just saying you need to loosen up bit. maybe all that coursework has you pent up, if you know what i mean.” you shiver at his implications. minwoo places his sweaty fingers atop yours, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. you try to pull away, but he keeps his grip firm as he smirks at you. 

you quickly glance over to sungho, finding that he was already looking at you, waiting for your signal of help. you bite your lip slightly before giving him a small nod. sungho takes his hat off, finally giving you a proper look at him as he runs his hand into his hair. he’s quick to close his book and tuck it under his arm, making his way over to your table in a few long strides. 

“Y/N? what are the chances i run into you here!” he sounds genuinely happy to see an old friend, placing his palm on your shoulder reassuringly as he takes his place beside you. sungho’s so good at the bit, you’re convinced he might be an acting major. “actually, leehan said he found your lab report in the library just now. didn’t we need to turn that in yesterday?” his words are urgent as he shows you random messages on his phone. it was leehan who he was texting, but the contents of their messages weren’t remotely related to his made-up story. 

“fuck, i totally forgot about that,” you place your hand on your forehead, feigning stress over your fake lost assignment. “minwoo, it’s been really nice meeting you, but my entire grade relies on getting that report in, so i might have to leave earlier than expected…”

“oh, really? i haven’t turned in any of my assignments in weeks!” you hold yourself back from rolling your eyes; of course he was a shitty student to top it all off. he was probably on the verge of getting kicked out for his bad habits. 

“Y/N, leehan just said he needs to go to class soon, we might want to go now before he has to leave.” 

“shit, actually?” sungho nods eagerly, making it seem like you urgently need to leave. “i’m so sorry about this minwoo, i should get going.”

“okay, i’ll text you later then?” you hum in response, grabbing your belongings as sungho is practically pushing you away from the table and towards the exit. he holds the door open for you as you step outside, heading in the opposite direction of the store. 

“are you really going to text him later?” sungho’s walking beside you as you count the cracks in the sidewalk. 

you let out a pitiful laugh at the silly question. “god, no. there’s no way i’m going to be in contact with that freak any time soon.” 

“good. anyone could see he was a piece of shit.” his words stung a bit; you felt humiliated. to think that you genuinely thought minwoo might be your chance at a college romance, yet you needed to be saved by a stranger. your judge of character might be worse than you think.

you find yourself at a nearby park far away from the bakery, sitting idly at the swingset. your savior is still with you, an empty swing between you as he kicks the pebbles on the ground. you’re not sure why he’s still there, but you’re comforted by his company in the aftermath. 

why is dating so hard? you curse yourself for not seeing this outcome sooner. there really wasn’t any way you could’ve predicted minwoo would act like that– in a way, it feels like your fault. maybe you weren’t the type of person people would want to date. maybe there was no chance of you finding someone good to settle down with before you graduated. did it have to do with you? maybe it wasn’t the dating culture holding you back. you don’t know why your eyes begin to well up, but you stifle back your sniffles as a tear falls into your lap. 

sungho immediately picks up on your emotions. he doesn’t normally know what to do in situations like this, but he’s sure he wants to comfort you. “hey, hey… are you crying?” he moves to kneel down in front of you. 

he pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket, offering it out to you. you quickly take it, looking away as you dab at your eyes. “fuck, this is so embarrassing.” you force out a laugh, trying to make light of the situation.

“it’s not embarrassing,” sungho pauses for a moment as he thinks about what to say. “sometimes people don’t turn out to be how you think they are.” sungho wants to slap himself for struggling to find the words he wants to tell you.

“i guess, but i’m sitting here crying in front of a stranger.” you look down at him, feeling small despite the fact that he was on the ground in front of you now.

“i’d like for us to be friends, at least.” you giggle at his comment, giving him a nod of agreement. 

“maybe this is a sign for me to give up.” your words are full of defeat. 

sungho’s confused from the lack of context. “give up?”

“give up on love. i don’t know why i thought i could find something on a dating app, for god’s sake. i guess it’s just not for me.” sungho knows whats he wants to say now. he wants to tell you you’re beautiful. he wants to tell you that you deserve to be treated well. he wants to tell you that anyone would be stupid to give up the opportunity to love you. 

he knows he shouldn’t say all that, at least not now. “would you give it one more chance? y’know, if the opportunity ever showed up.” 

“yeah, if that ever happened. i’m starting to feel like a lost cause here, sungho.” you scoff. after so many failed encounters with love, you felt like it was time for you to take a break.  “you’re acting like the right person is going to magically show up in front of me.”

there’s silence in the air between you as the leaves rustle the trees above. “this might be the worst possible time to do this, but would you let me take you out on a date, Y/N?”

...part two? (i have ideas for it already. Plz lmk if u guys GAF.)

taglist: @onedoornet @minwrlds @serejae @loserlvrss @gluion

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

If the sky is pink and white 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧. 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼 If the ground is black and yellow

Higuruma Hiromi x reader<3 (nsfw)

hiromi likes girls (his gf) who are a little (very) mean to him. CANON I ASKED GEGE.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Higuruma stands in the doorway of your bedroom, Hes been staring at you for a good while now, even before you noticed.

Looking at how your little dress hugs your pretty body.

you wave a hand infront of his face.

“whats up with you today…freak,” you say and laugh at him, the corner of his mouth tugs a little before going back to his usual, blank face.

“i cant look at whats mine? hm?” he says smoothly and plays with a strand of your hair.

“urgh,” you roll your eyes and turn away from him. You know he loves it, when you act like a little spoiled princess.

he grabs your arm and pull you back to him softly. He looks into your eyes again, something else than adoration behind them this time.

“hirom-“

“i thought about what you said,”

huh?

you look at him in question.

He smirks a little before speaking, “you know….about my nose,”

A couple days ago he’d told you how he used to hate his nose when he was younger. You’d frowned and taken his face in your pretty manicured hands and told him it was one of your favorite things about his appearance. It had made his heart swell in his chest, and he’d hugged you so tight right after telling you to ‘shut up and stop lying’

And he’d thought about it ever since, couldnt get it out of his head. And now he knew why.

He takes your jaw in his huge hand and brings your face up to look at him,

“if you like my nose so much, why dont you sit on it princess?” he tells you, looking into your eyes and pulling you closer by your waist.

Your eyes widen, and you blush while trying to push him away.

“stop saying things like that,” you look away from his eyes and he frowns.

“look at me baby,”

You reluctantly look at him again, the way he looks at you hungrily makes you ache.

“you telling me you dont want to?” He whispers to you, and you know he would drop it as soon as you say the word.

But you stay silent, looking away from him again. And he knows youre too shy to say it. so innocent. He wants to make you cry and shake on top of him.

He sighs and goes to pull away from you, but before he can get too far you grab him by the collar, nodding your head.

“yeah?” he asks. you nod again.

he smiles widely at you, before licking his lips and speaking,

“take this off,” he says as he plays with the hem of your dress.

His eyes scan over your body while you undress, his mouth watering. And when you finally stand infront of him, looking up at him with your pretty eyes, only wearing your panties, He picks you up by your thighs suddenly, And you yelp in surprise. He takes you to the bed, laying down with you now sitting on his chest.

You stare at eachother for a while before he speaks again,

“come on….wanna drown in your little pussy,”

Hes so nasty.

“dont worry you will, im gonna shut you up for once,” you say with a look of distaste, he knows your body is betraying you, with how big the wet spot on your panties has gotten.

you sit up on your knees, sliding down your underwear slowly, teasing him.

“mmm there she is,” he groans when he sees your pussy, slick with your arousal.

“youre so annoying,”

“sit on my face baby,”

you huff and sit down again on his chest, grinding your naked pussy on him. He groans loudly.

“fuck….you want me to beg? is that it sweetheart? hm?”

He breathes heavily, a desperate look on his face, and his hips buck behind you, trying to relieve himself a little.

You nod and wait for him, and when he opens his mouth to speak, reaching out to touch your waist, you slap his hand away.

“no touching,” you say with a serious face.

he almost cries. “evil…evil little girl,” fuck why wont you just let him have you, but he knows that you know he loves this. loves his pretty girlfriend being mean to him.

you take pity on him, you tell yourself, when you sit up on your knees, moving so that your pussy is hovering over his face. But really you know you cant wait anymore, you need to ride his handsome face.

“fuck yes…please baby, sit,” He groans under you.

you place yourself right on his mouth, his nose grazing your clit. He moans loudly into you, his hand going to rub himself so he doesnt loose his mind.

He rubs his face into you, licking and sucking on your cunt. You mewl and cry over him and he looks up at you, Smirking into your pussy.

You grab his hair then, grinding yourself down on him, riding his nose.

He babbles under you, probably filthy things. But his mouth is full, so all you hear is his muffled voice speaking into your soaked pussy.

He loves when you use him like this, and the way you look on top of him, fucking his face, its too much and not enough at the same time.

“fuck…use me princess,” He manages to get out in between eating you “cum on my face…”

You whine.

“fuck….” You shake and cry over him, cumming all over his drooling mouth. He keeps licking at you, trying to get every drop of cum. He groans, pulling away from you.

He looks so fucked out, his whole face is wet and his hair is messy, a dopey smile on his face.

You almost pass out, falling off him and onto the bed. He smiles and goes to lay on top of you, cradling your face in his hands.

“i need to change my boxers,” he says.

“of course you do,”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

IDK IF I LIKE THIS UM. anyways i hope u guys like it atleast >_<

i havent gotten to his intruduction in the manga yet i know nothing about this man except for that hes a lawyer and hes sexy

Light In The Darkness

summary: venti isn't often vulnerable with you, but the one time he is is when he needs a whole lot of reassurance. and you have no problem giving him just that: expressing just how much he means to you.

pairing: jealous!venti x gn!reader

cws: slight angst, hurt/comfort

notes: originally posted this a few hours ago but quickly realized that i made a mistake bc the req was for a jealous mc instead of venti 😭

so instead i’ll post two versions!! this one is the venti version, and the mc version will be posted hopefully tmrw!

wc: 2k

A bard was well-versed in all things poetry. It was their job to serenade those around them.

It was no surprise to you that your lover’s angelic voice touched the hearts of many. After all, that was his job— to sing and dance and play the lyre throughout all corners of the world, gaining popularity as he did so.

Sometimes, you thought the popularity got to his head a little. All those compliments and love struck looks from both men and women alike definitely stroked his ego to a degree.

He could do without all that praise, you thought, watching from afar as your lover sang a classic tale that was well known in Mondstadt. He gets enough praise from the church.

You were well aware he was the Anemo Archon. It was easy to put two and two together after taking a glance at the statue in the center of the city.

Tapping your fingers along to the classic tale, you failed to notice the figure of the Traveler approaching your all but empty table. Aether and Paimon greeted you eagerly, their faces a welcome sight after not having seen them in months.

A smile broke out onto your face instantly. You returned their sentiments, and the three of you fell into idle chatter about their recent journeys. Before long, you were laughing loudly like you always did when Aether came to visit.

He and Paimon were no strangers to the City of Freedom. They often stopped by for a visit around the festival seasons, though this year they had missed the annual Windblume Festival because of a music event in Inazuma.

You hounded them for missing the festival, though it was all lighthearted fun. You told them about Venti’s performance during the Windblume Festival, and how he gained the hearts of many afterwards.

“Wow, sounds like the Tone-Deaf Bard is doing as well as ever.” Paimon’s deadpan expression made you chuckle.

“Indeed. I think he could do without having his ego stroked all the time, but he really is an amazing performer, so I guess it’s alright.” You said.

Paimon huffed and crossed her arms. “Still! He should at least be a bit humble!” She tossed a glare in his direction. “Who knew the Anemo Archon could be so greedy!”

You sighed, a laugh tumbling out of your mouth. It was good to know that Paimon was the same as always. Aether looked just about ready to leave Paimon here, what with all her grumbling and complaining. You were happy to see them in good health.

An hour later, the two were bidding you farewell, claiming they had to knock some commissions for the Adventurer’s Guild out before sundown.

“Take care of yourselves, alright? If you need us, you know where to find us. Please do stop by sometime soon!” you told them with a smile, “Venti bought a vintage recently and we’ve been saving it for a special occasion. It would be the perfect time to break it open!”

“Sure thing!” Aether nodded with a kind smile. “See you around!”

You watched them leave with a small smile on your face before you directed your attention back to Venti. The bard was entertaining a group of drunkards, singing an old Mondstadt tale. It was one you’ve heard only a handful of times.

In the past, it was extremely popular in Mondstadt. However, as the years came and went, it grew to be forgotten amongst the people. As you watched Venti light up with life and rile up the patrons he was singing to, you realized he was doing his best to bring back those old, forgotten melodies.

The door to the tavern creaked open, and from your table near the bar, you could see Diluc take a huge sigh. That could only mean one thing…

“(Name)! Why, it’s quite the pleasure to see you here.” Kaeya’s smooth and charming voice entered your ears.

“Well if it isn’t Captain Kaeya!” You beamed, standing from your seat to give him a nice big hug.

It had been a few months since you’ve seen him last. The last time you saw him was four months ago when he left for Fontaine to speak with a few merchants there on behalf of the Knights of Favonius. Since then, your days were a little duller without his presence.

Though, the void left behind by your best friend was quickly filled by the affections from your lover.

Kaeya chuckled, the sound buzzing in your ear as you kept your head to his chest. “Miss me while I was gone? It’s not like you to get all emotional.”

You pulled from the hug and slapped his arm playfully. “Of course I missed you! Can I not miss my best friend?”

The two of you began catching up as Kaeya called for a few drinks. Diluc sent him a glare as he placed the drinks down on the table, warning him not to order too many, before he retreated back to the bar.

The more you talked and laughed with Kaeya, the more you realized just how much you missed him. It felt like the two of you were kids again, when the both of you were training to become knights and didn’t have to worry about anything at all.

All the while, a shiver ran down your spine as you felt the weight of divine eyes peering at you from afar. This was a feeling you commonly had; whenever you were on a commission for the Adventurer’s Guild, or more importantly, hanging out with Kaeya.

The feeling of a divine force watching you so closely was a little frightening, but knowing where the source was coming from made it less scary and more intriguing.

You knew what your lover’s divinity felt like by now after having been around him for so long. It was a slight pressure on your shoulders, a shiver running up your spine, and a soft breeze that mysteriously came from nowhere. It was quite ominous, though you supposed that word described him perfectly.

In these situations, you knew he was staring at you and Kaeya with that adorable pout on his face and waiting for the right time to pounce on you like a cat. Then, he’d drag you away and the two of you would cuddle and you would whisper words of affection in his ear to assure him how much you loved him and only him.

And so, you waited for the moment he’d interrupt your conversation.

Kaeya was always the type of best friend that made you laugh until your stomach hurt, and playfully flirted with you just because. He was loyal to a fault and not as honest as you wished he could be. But he had always been there for you, a light in the darkness when you needed him.

Gradually, over time, Venti filled that spot of being your light in the darkness, but no one could replace your best friend.

You and Kaeya had been inseparable in your youth, along with Diluc, who tagged along with you both. So, naturally, your bond was quite strong. It stayed that way between both of you even after he told you the truth of his origins.

As he opened his mouth— a teasing smile on his lips that made you realize he was about to ask how you and Venti were doing —your lover in question slid his arms around your neck and dug his face into your collarbone.

You caressed his arm lovingly and placed a kiss to the side of his head. You sighed, a dopey smile pulling at your lips. He was no doubt faking being drunk to pull you away from Kaeya.

“Hi my love,” you said sweetly, “did you drink too much?”

He grumbled into your skin, and that was enough to confirm he was only doing this because he wanted your attention all to himself. It made you laugh loudly, your chest bubbling with life as the sound rolled out of your mouth.

Venti couldn’t help but smile. He loved the sound of your laugh more than anything, especially when he was the cause of it. He adored bringing you happiness and joy. He adored hearing your melodic laugh. He gripped you tighter, not wanting to let you go just yet.

“Well, I think this is where our fun ends, Kaeya,” you told him with a smirk, “I should get this one home.”

He returned your look with a knowing one of his own. He was very familiar with Venti’s antics by now. “No worries. We’ll continue catching up another time. Be safe on the way back to Springvale.”

You ruffled his hair like you always did when you were children. “We will. Stop by sometime, you’re no stranger.”

Standing up, you removed Venti’s arms from around your neck and relocated them to your waist, knowing he wouldn’t be letting go anytime soon.

Outside, the chilly nighttime air was refreshing on your hot skin. You ran your fingers through Venti’s hair and let out a content sigh.

“You know,” you started, a teasing lilt in your voice, “if you wanted my attention so badly, all you had to do was ask.”

Venti looked up at you with that adorable pout you were always so fond of. You cupped his face in your hands as he let out a small whine.

“Were you jealous, my love?”

Stubbornly, he looked away. “No—“

“Uh-huh, sure. I know how you get when you’re jealous.”

He bit his lip before all his worries came tumbling out of his mouth like a broken dam. “How can I not be? Kaeya’s always flirting with you and making you laugh! Sometimes I don’t know whether or not the way you smile at him is… is for something else.”

Venti was not one for being vulnerable. He absolutely despised sharing his true feelings, and preferred to bottle things deeply inside his person. For him to tell you how he felt in this moment was a huge step forward.

It not only meant he trusted you deeply, but it also made you realize that the effort you were helping him put in with his emotions was working. It touched your heart, but his words broke it all over again.

You kissed him, sweet and slow like he always enjoyed. When you pulled away, you placed your forehead on his and smiled.

“For you, I would go against the heavens and sooner make myself an enemy of the divine. I’d follow you to the edge of the world— hell, to the far reaches of the universe just because I love you. My heart and soul are yours, Barbatos.”

You could see it: the way he tried so hard to mask his sadness and how much he tried to avoid letting any tears spill. He inhaled shakily, squeezing his eyes shut in another attempt to deter his cries.

In the end, it was all futile, as the tears fell from his eyes like waterfalls anyway. This time, you waited for him to make the first move, and he did.

After a few moments, he searched for your lips and brought you into a slow, passionate kiss. It was a kiss that told you how much he appreciated your words, as well as one that so very obviously conveyed his undying love.

When he pulled away, he let out a small, sheepish laugh. “I’m sorry for that, love.” His cheeks were red with embarrassment.

“Don’t be,” you told him softly, forcing him to look at you, “Never be sorry for that. Thank you for sharing how you truly feel.”

He was eternally grateful to have you, someone so patient and understanding. He smiled, pressing a kiss to your palm that was on his cheek.

“I love you. To the far reaches of the universe and back.”

Hand in hand, you returned home, laughing all the while as he shared stories of the night’s events. Amidst the wind, he could hear both your hearts beating in unison.

notes: this was not supposed to be 2k words, this was supposed to be less than 1k but u guys know me by now, i always end up writing more when it comes to venti 😭 if u’d like to join my disc server to chat and hangout, u can do so here!

© 2024 mikashisus. do not copy, repost, or translate my works to any other platforms.

the 52-hertz whale

Word count: 8.0k

Warnings: smut, trauma dumping

Summary: love is a choice, you suppose

Hajime Hinata never felt that he was neglected.

He grew up in a family; a family of three, specifically, and he never really felt the financial strain that other kids felt. He had the spare pocket change that most kids his age did, and he had parents. His family was one, perhaps. He doesn't think he has much to complain about when his parents weren't divorced. He had a relatively happy childhood, he thinks.

"Hinata," You fiddle with your fingers. "I know you're not the island's therapist... but I was wondering—"

Hinata welcomes your words that cut off his thoughts. He didn't want to overthink his family again. He has no reason to.

"Go ahead," He smiles. "Would you like to sit in the hospital?"

"Too scary," You pause. "Can we sit in one of our rooms instead?"

"Yours or mine?"

"I don't care," Your voice wavers. "I'm a bit overwhelmed, so maybe a walk instead? I need to sort it out; you can simply listen if you don't want to help."

"Of course," He smiles, following you as you start wandering. Hinata helps around the island with what he can, fixing pipes, lifting materials, even going as far as cooking on the days Teruteru goes a little insane. Hajime Hinata carries the weight of the entire island, so you don't like troubling him with things as simple as your thoughts. Yet, you find yourself staring at him more often, catching the way his brows furrow ever so slightly. He looks tired. Maybe he needed rest as much as you did. Hinata didn't have anyone to lean on without feeling guilty, so you suppose it's expected that the majority of the class acts first instead of him. It's nice to have other people help, even if they aren't aware of how much they are. Hinata takes off his shoes as he steps into the sand. Just yesterday, he was raking out the sharp objects from the sand. "So?"

"I was thinking," You pause. "Of my childhood."

"And?"

"I was a little overwhelmed, I suppose," You mumble. "I really have no reason to complain about it, you see."

Hinata stares at you, and you use a hand to push your hair back as the wind blows in your hair. You still, staring at the setting sun, heart heavy in your chest. Your lips form a pout, and Hinata reaches to ease the crease between your brows. You stare at him, biting your cheek as you do. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe, you should have just made up an excuse that didn't include trauma dumping on him. Maybe, you should've just—

"It's fine, you know?"

"I was thinking," You frown. "That I miss my best friend."

"Do you?"

"I also miss all the friends I cut off when I entered Hope's Peak," You mumble. "I cut them off because they were toxic for me, but I guess they thought I was stuck up and didn't feel I needed them anymore. They're all dead now, including my parents, yet I don't feel sad about it. Does that make me weird, Hinata?"

He shakes his head. "It depends on how you see it, but I'm sure there's a reason you aren't sad."

"Yes," You continue walking, eyes staring out at sea again. "But you see, I have no reason not to feel sad over the loss of my parents. I grew up with a loving mom and a dad that cheated but never was abusive. My mom made sure that I grew up educated, and my dad never backed out when I spent his card to the point of maxing out. I have no reason to hate them, yet I don't mourn for them at all. There's a bitterness, you see, but not sadness."

Hinata nods.

"But then again," You pause to stare at your stomach showing from the crop top. Reaching down to it, you squeeze the fat sticking out, and you chuckle. "I hated the skin that I sat in because of my mother."

In the distance, a seagull calls, and you step into the water, leaning down to pull the sand dollar out of the grains. Hinata steps next to you, staring at the fossil. Neither of you say a thing, and you grin. "That can go into my next story, granted I don't get sick of writing again."

Hinata turns to stare at you. "Did you hate your talent?"

"Yes," You hum, drying it off on your hip. "I despised the literature I created with my hands. I hated the worlds that were from my mind. I would stare at the documents and throw up all because I had overwritten during a period of time I should have been enjoying my life. I have nothing to complain about to my parents. It was my fault that I decided to go all in to get recruited, not because of them. I suppose I just wanted a way to save their marriage."

Hinata thinks that sounds familiar.

"I made it in," You pause. Hinata waits for the next line, but it never comes. Perhaps he had unconsciously hoped that your tale would play out differently from his. The child in his mind prayed that somehow, your tale would be better than his. Ah, he was having unrealistic thoughts again; Maybe he should have let the analyst talent stay with him; Maybe he hadn't matured that much. That wasn't good news.

In the distance, the wind blows against the trees, the ocean rising to your calf as you stare up at Hinata.

"And?"

"There is no and," You exhale, heart still heavy. "And then they divorced, and I never saw my dad ever again."

"Ah," Hinata mumbles. He presses a hand to your back, almost as if to try to comfort you. He should be better at this. Why isn't he better at this? "Are you..?"

"But that's not what matters," You drag Hinata out of the water. "What matters is that I feel nothing for my parents despite the lack of reason. My mom stayed with me throughout my years at Hope's Peak until the Tragedy. I have no reason to be so desensitized about them. The first person I killed when I became a remnant was my mom. Next was my dad, and then the rest is history." You stare at your hands, biting your bottom lip. "I found the answer."

"It is not the fact that you murdered them." Hinata pauses. "That much I can see."

"Is it not?" You grin at him. The breeze grows colder, and you glance at the palm trees. Five leaves. "I killed my parents with my bare hands, and then I recovered, but I never mourned. Did you see how devastated Teruteru was when he found out he killed his own mother? Sonia was mortified when she realized she destroyed her nation. The same holds for Akane and Nekomaru. I didn't feel anything when my memories were restored. I didn't even feel bad that I had killed my parents. I had been so insensitive when I brought it up that even Komaeda was worried."

Hinata holds his hand up for yours.

You give it to him.

He traces the lines in your palm, and he wonders if he should read them.

"Don't bother," You smile. "I've gotten it read before."

"Mm," He pauses. "Were you lonely?"

"Always," You mumble. "Were you? I remember you were an only child."

"Much more often than I like to admit." Hinata pauses. "What else?"

"Well," You mumble. "I remember my mom cursing about my dad when he wasn't home, and I remember my dad trying to explain to me that I'll understand when I'm older."

Hinata starts leading you back onto the road.

"He tried convincing me in the parking lot of a Home Depot that he had a reason to cheat." You mirror Hinata as he sits down on the bench. "I still don't get it."

"He had a reason, maybe," Hinata lets go of your hand. "But it was not justifiable."

"Yes," You grimace. "And part of growing up for me was the fact that I had to realize he did have a reason to cheat, but not one that could be justifiable. Instead of making a conscious effort to fix it, he just ran away from the problem. A relationship doesn't go a single way, so even when my mom was trying to fix the relationship, without my father cooperating, she was unable to fix it. Love is a choice, Hinata-kun."

Hinata stares at you. "Is that so?"

"I read that somewhere in high school," You brush the dried sand from your feet, pulling the sand dollar out of your pocket. "That is why arranged marriages last longer than willing ones. You can fall out of love for the same reason you can fall in love. The spontaniety of your lover can become recklessness in your eyes, and the smothering devotion they have for you can become suffocating. Love is a choice after you choose that person, perhaps. Is that desensitizing love?"

"No," Hinata slips his shoes on and bends down to brush the sand from your feet for you. "That is not, simply because if it was the case, then you would not see it in the people in love."

You smile as he slips your shoes on for you.

"If love were plainly emotion without choice, you would not see Sonia open her arms whenever she sees Gundham. Peko wouldn't have chosen to die instead of accidentally harm Fuyuhiko a second time. Kamukura wouldn't have chosen to place those flowers on Chiaki's desk. None of those choices would have been conscious if love were just an emotion." Hinata helps you up. "I would not be here listening to you after such a long day."

"I suppose," You grimace. "But you needed this just as much as I did."

He stares at you.

"You waited for me when I said I got in," You laugh dryly. "Did you think making it big would be able to save my parents' marriage? By getting into a fancy private school for the best of the best? If anything, it made it worse. My parents divorced three months into the semester on the day of thanksgiving. It was kind of funny."

"It shouldn't be."

"Yes," You grin. "But unlike your parents, mine split. I didn't feel hurt until I was sitting down and filling out paperwork for something, realizing that I don't have a father. That's when it kind of bites you, making you sit there and rethink your decisions. Then, Hinata, how about you?"

"Ah," Hinata stares at you, pausing. "I don't have much of a childhood to talk about."

"There has to be something," You tilt your head. "or else they would have no reason to sign your life away to a surgery."

"Well," He stares at you, unsure where to start. "It was fine, really, until I started to attend Hope's Peak."

You pat the empty bench. "Sit."

"Thank you," He pauses, face falling. "Then they just sort of... disappeared from my life."

"Is that so?" You lean forward to rest on your palm, staring at the trees ahead.

"They worked hard to be able to pay my tuition for the first year," Hinata chuckles. "And then... they couldn't afford a second year, but I wanted to attend a second year... so."

"You accepted the project," You exhale.

"Yes." He mumbles. "I don't remember much of the treatment other than the neurologist and psychologist. Kamukura's memories are blurry to me."

"Did it hurt?"

"They sedated me," He pauses. "Yeah."

You blink, lips pulled into a frown.

"Now you're frowning again."

"It's dehumanizing," You mumble. "A human made god was violated by its creators."

"My creators did nothing. Kamukura was used by the people he was made for."

"Youwere used by the people you trusted. That makes no difference." You stare at him. "It was still you who was used, and it was Kamukura who chose to sit there. He wasn't a human, unfortunately."

Hinata stares at you.

"But my parents loved me."

"So did mine." You pause. "Just because your parents loved you doesn't mean they couldn't harm you. Maybe their intention wasn't to hurt you, but surely they can still hurt people. A child isn't supposed to accommodate their parents when they are the younger one."

"I suppose, but—"

"There's no need to have a child to save a marriage. That's the weak way out. People who have children to fix their marriages are cowards. They focus all their attention on the child instead of the deteriorating relationship." You pause. "Distracting yourself from your own problems can only last for so long. But then again, human beings are complex, and I'm not Mi-chan, so it doesn't matter."

Hinata stares at you standing up, stepping out to the road, eyes closed. He pauses as you spread your arms out.

In the distance, the sound of the bedtime lullaby plays, and you spin along to Ibuki's music. It's calming, in a way. You're overcome with an unknown nostalgia each time the music plays, and you wonder if it used to be your lullaby. Your parents never sang or read you to sleep. You remember sprawling out on the bed with them, and you remember closing the lights at 12 when you were too tired to continue. You remember the low burn of your mom's desk light as she stayed up studying again, and you remember hating getting out of bed in the morning. You smell the oily sunny-side-up eggs as you stare at the moon, pretending you're still on that trampoline.

You still, realizing you've wandered too far from Hinata. He stands in the middle of the road, staring at you, hand out to reach you.

"Why are you standing there?"

"You look lonely."

"Well, get over here. You're calling and I'm receiving, right? There's no reason for you to be alone."

The moon stares in mild curiosity, wondering if she had seen this before. Perhaps she did. She dreamed of a sun that would touch her, yet she never questioned if the sun were lonely. The sun had no stars as the moon did, so perhaps he was. Well, not that it would worry over something as such. She stares down at the two of you, arms wrapped around each other. The warmth of the sun was enough to heal anyone, even the moon. So she supposed that you were being healed.

Hinata relishes in the coolness of your skin.

"Is that the only reason you called me out?"

"No," You let go of him as he does, and he takes a step back. "My real reason was to screw you over and force you to think over why you got here in the first place."

"I wanted to be an ultimate," He smiles amusedly.

"You? Or the inferiority complex your parents gave you?"

"Now you just sound like Mi-chan."

"That's what she does best," You shrug, starting back toward the rooms. "But she's right, you know? Was it you, or was it your parents? And then also... how can you heal it?"

"I have."

"But you do not process," You stare at the streetlight. "You built that with Souda's help. You water these roads when it gets dry here. You keep the pool together. You do everything around this island, Hinata-kun. You get no time to process things when you're so hyperfocused."

"Maybe."

"Also," You stretch your arms. "There's an unspoken pressure when you grow up alone."

"Maybe for you."

"For me!" You grin. "The unintended thought that my parents only have once chance to succeed plagues my mind daily, even with their death."

Hinata stops in front of your cottage. "Well?"

"Would you like to come in?" You blink up at him.

"Do you—"

"Yes. But it's up to you." You rock on your feet.

Hinata wants to, but the back of his mind tells him to rest.

"I'm going to go back," Hinata smiles.

"No worries!" You beam. "Rest well."

"Of course."

The moon makes way for the sun in the morning, and you blink lifelessly at the sun when you wake up. You feel like shit. Taking a walk at 8pm in the evening and walking in the cold ass ocean was not a smart choice. Maybe a warm shower will fix it? Who knows. You sit in the bath for a good moment, questioning your sanity. You'll stay in today.

It's half past three when Mikan comes in from a call. Hinata had created this weird communication device, and you were tired. Mikan would be quickest, her number being the only single-digit number. She checks your temperature and vitals, sighing when it's nothing more than a fever. It reminds you of when you were younger. You can't recall the last time you broke down with a fever. You thought you were taking care of yourself well.

"Um," Mikan helps you sit up, handing you the pills with water. "I also have liquid if you want..."

"It's fine," You mumble, taking the pills from her hand. They feel scratchy against your throat, and you cough once the water washes them down. "I just need to sleep it off, right?"

"Yes," She mumbles. "I'm so sorry!"

"No," You stare up. "That's on me for catching a fever again. Thank you."

"O-of course," She keeps the door unlocked as she leaves, and you fall back asleep. You're uncomfortable. Your whole body is freezing, yet you have two blankets on top of you. At times like this, you can't help but miss your mom. At least she had everything on hand and could tell when you were about to get sick. You don't remember the last time she had panicked over you, but you always remember the soup she made. Ugh, now you want some.

Sometime before the sun sets completely, the door opens again. You whimper at the breeze and pull the covers over you. The person walks around the room, opening the window, taking the finished soup from the bedside drawer, and turning on the water. You stay in a zone between consciousness and unconsciousness, and you whimper as they finally pull the covers off.

"Come on," You wrap your arms around their neck as you're lifted off the bed.

"I'm going to get you sick..."

"Doesn't matter."

"Wait," You squint at the figure and pause at the sight of Hinata. "I can bathe myself."

"I'm not going to violate you, if that's what you wanted to ask. I need to cool your skin down, and we don't have enough alcohol to wipe you down."

"My mom used to do that," You slur as he sits you in the tub. "She used to wipe be own with alcohol pads when I got sick."

Hinata turns the showerhead on, and you droop as he has the water run down your back.

Your eyes flutter from the warmth, and Hinata catches your head before you pass out.

"Sorry."

"I'll wash you, so don't worry about it."

You don't know how long you sit in the tub, but when your eyes open again, Hinata's sitting next to your bed, screwing at another piece of machinery. You turn your head to stare at him.

"Stop doing that."

"No."

"Stop tinkering with the old DS." You mumble. "You're not going to be able to load Chiaki on that."

"It's not to load her."

"It won't connect to internet."

"It will."

"You're like a child," You shift to stare back up at the ceiling.

"In a way, aren't you the same?"

"Yeah," You mumble. "The world hates children."

"Only those who don't understand the value." Hinata places the screwdriver down. "Chiaki was the one who called for Mikan."

"Thank you," You mumble into the air to no one in particular.

Your eyes flutter shut again.

When you wake up next, Hinata is eating dinner.

"I have your soup," He sets his bowl down on the drawer and helps you sit up.

"I'm not weak to that point." You mumble, but you don't fight him.

"I know," Hinata grabs your bowl, blowing on the spoon to cool the soup. "But it's what you need."

"What I want," You open your mouth and swallow as Hinata helps you drink. "Not what I need."

"What you need." Hinata mumbles. "Just like you had sat in my room until I woke up after the incidents."

"Which one?" You laugh dryly. "The one when the big TV fell on your head? The one where you almost cracked your head open and scared the shit out of everyone? The one where—"

"All of them," Hinata presses the spoon to your lips again. "Every single one of them, you took care of me like this."

"I know," You swallow. "Let me drink it myself."

"I'll hold the bowl," Hinata hands you the spoon, and you drink. Hinata's eyes stay fixated on your throat as you swallow. You're embarrassed. You're an adult now, for life's sake. You're supposed to take care of yourself when you're sick, not have someone else take care of you.

"What are we?"

Hinata stares at you.

"Unlabeled."

"Well no shit," You choke on the last syllable, and Hinata pats your back. "I'm asking for a reason."

"I don't know what we are," He stares at you. "You didn't give me a label either."

"Well," You pause. "vent buddies? No. We're not that. You're nothing like my other friend. I didn't want to fuck that friend."

"You want tofuckme?"

"Huh, I guess I've never told you," You stare into his soul. "Some days I think of you folding me in half over a restaurant table."

Hinata sputters at your straightforwardness as you lie back down in the bed.

"So what are we?"

"Mutual pining. That's the term, right?"

"You think about fucking me?"

"No." Hinata pauses. "Well, yes, but not the same way you do—"

"You want to get pegged?"

"Can you let me finish?" Hinata sighs. You bat your lashes at him, and he presses a hand to your forehead to check your temperature. "I don't, but there's a reason I'm always the one taking care of things in your room when it could be Souda fixing it."

"Ah," You stare at him, eyes wide. "You like me too."

"Sure." Hinata mumbles. "Now, go back to sleep. Your fever is reducing."

"That's good," You smile. "Does that mean we're dating?"

You don't hear Hinata's answer when you drift off.

Hinata stares at your resting form, and he glances at the clock on the wall. He could stay up the entire night, but you'd probably scold him for that. Well, not that it mattered. You'd be good to go in the morning. He has to go back to fixing the broken speaker in Komaeda's room that he left alone to sit with you. You seem drunk when sick. He finds that cute, he supposes.

The night passes as Hinata falls asleep in the chair, and you wake up to the male's head slipping. You slide a pillow between his neck and head and toss a blanket over him, heading off to shower. You feel better. You still feel like shit, but better. You'd have to thank him later. Hinata worked tirelessly around the island. He at least deserved someone who could take care of him.

You wonder, though, if he just wasn't hearing the call.

When you step out, Hinata's awake, staring at you owlishly.

"You know, it's a miracle you can control how aroused you get," You brush past him to change into actual clothes. Hinata takes the towel from you as he glances at your bare skin.

"I can't," He exhales. "I'm about to shower after you."

You cough, embarrassed. "You're gonna shower without me?"

"We can shower together next time," He ruffles your hair as he steps into the bathroom.

The sun's in the sky when you step out of the hut with Hinata. You stare up, holding a hand up to block the sun.

"A tropical storm is approaching in four days."

"You can smell it?"

Hinata pauses. "Well, kind of. It's also just from the storm patterns in the area."

"When's our next batch of supplies coming in?"

"This week," Hinata checks his phone, and you pause.

"We are..."

"We're dating," Hinata smiles. "We're dating now."

"Okay!" You yell, throwing fists into the air. "We're dating!"

"We're dating." Hinata imitates your fists.

You beam at him. "We're dating."

There's something strange about living with others. You don't remember the last time it felt like you lived with someone other than yourself, and you struggle to remember there are two people in the hut now. You stare at Hinata each morning, your stomach churning at the sight of him all vulnerable next to you. You could kill him if you wanted to. You could press a blade to his neck and wreak havoc on the island like a proper writer. You could learn so much just from a single person.

But your stomach churns for another reason.

You don't deserve Hinata.

You sit in bed each morning, staring at Hinata, counting the freckles on his face as the sun rises from the east, heart heavy, wondering when Hinata's going to realize you're a bad person. You sit there counting the acne on his back, counting the number of times you've messed up around him. You love Hinata like the moon loves the sun, but you could never have him for yourself. It feels heartbreaking to know that you didn't deserve someone like him. You were nothing compared to the ultimate hope. You wrote stories for a living, overthinking like it was your job. You think of every possibility, never leaving one behind. The only difference was you wrote them into stories.

"Good morning." You smile as Hinata smiles at you.

"Good morning." He presses a kiss to your hand. "Ready to start the day?"

"Yeah."

It cycles, you think. You wake up earlier than Hinata, stare out the window, cycle through those vicious thoughts, and then forget about everything when Hinata presses a morning kiss to your skin. Some days, you lie awake in bed, heart heavy with melancholy. You miss your friends. You miss the people who did everything in their power to make sure you were alright and safe. Maybe you shouldn't have cut them off when you needed to work on yourself.

"You're thinking again," Hinata hands you a coffee from the vending machine. "What's up?"

"Coffee at 9?"

"It's hot chocolate."

"I hope it tastes like the ones from Starbucks," You mumble, pressing the metal to your lips.

"You're thinking again." Hinata sits next to you on the bench.

"Missing my old friends," You open your mouth, only closing it when you realize you don't have the right words. "I miss a handful of them."

"I'm sure you do." Hinata smiles. "That's normal."

"Maybe," You pause. "But I don't miss any of them. I miss every single toxic friend in my life that I've ever made. I miss the people that cut me out too."

"Did you do something wrong?"

"Plenty of things," You laugh bitterly. "So many things."

Hinata stares at you. "Did you ever apologize?"

"No." You exhale, sinking into the bench. "I never had the humility to do it."

Hinata opens his mouth to speak. "Well—"

"Aren't I such a bad person?" You smile at him. "I bullied people as a child, never apologized to them, killed my parents, and cut so many innocent people out of my life. I left my friends, tricked everyone into thinking I'm a good person, and now I even tricked you into dating me. I truly am incredible. I'm such... a bad... person..."

Hinata takes your hand into his, drawing gentle circles. "Do you think I'm unable to tell good from bad?"

"No," You grimace. "I just... not worth it."

Hinata draws little shapes on your palm, smiling affectionately at your hand as he does. "I once read that love is a choice."

He's using your words against you.

"You choose the people you stay with, even if it isn't in a romantic relationship." Hinata taps your palm twice. "That is what love is. Choices."

Behind you, the waves crash against the rocks, and Hinata continues.

"It was a choice to love you, and it was a choice to stay with you even after hearing everything you've told me. I am in love with you as much as someone can be in love with someone." Hinata presses your fingers to his lips. "You like this, right?"

Your eyes are still distant.

"Do I have to fuck you to convince you that you're worthy?"

You shake your head. "There's no need for that. You couldn't possibly think of—"

Hinata bites your fingers with his canines, staring you in the eye as he does.

"That's weirdly out of character."

"Aaaand there goes the tension." Hinata takes your fingers out, laughing along with you.

"You don't need to fuck me," You stand up, stretching your arms. "for me to feel loved."

"You want it, though."

"Sure." You stare at the speakers. "Maybe another day."

"Maybe during the storm?"

"Yeah," You turn to stare at him. "Definitely during the storm. By that time, I'll be able to scream all I want!! I'll get to cry abt howgoodyour dick is, and how you're the only one who can split me in—"

"That's enough," Hinata covers your mouth with his hand, ears burning. "I'll keep that in mind when you actually get fucked."

"Hoaw bigh arhe you," You speak against his palm, and he stares at you.

"You'll find out eventually."

Hinata walks you home, slowly, maybe. The two of you share a home now. Your home is as much of a home to him as it's a home to you. You still wonder if you tricked him into falling for you. You're not someone particularly special, still. Your talent is useless on this island, even if you knew a million things in theory. What use are you if you like putting things off? God, it's just like when your mom made you retake your exams so you'd get a better score, but you only ended up scoring the same.

"Talk it out."

"It's just a fleeting thought." You pause in place. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"I still want to hear it," Hinata pauses with you.

"I was thinking about. I was thinking about my last year at Hope's Peak."

"Mhm?"

"And how my inner child was never satisfied." You pause. "Even though she was spoiled with whatever she wanted. She lacked love."

"Did she?"

"So she was stuck staring at herself in the mirror, asking if she was the problem. She's not, I don't think so, but I understand why she would think that." You pause. "I was lazy for refusing to take the AP tests that would send me to the United States during college. I don't regret it, but I suppose I would've liked an apology from my mom."

Hinata frowns when you exhale.

"But the past is the past, and they aren't things worth mulling over."

"But they are things that you need to process."

"The only thing I can figure out right now is that I'm almosthappymy mom died."

Hinata chuckles. "That's not good."

"definitely! but I... my mom never really felt like my mom after I moved the first time. You watch your family fall apart, and you wonder if maybe you were the reason."

"Yeah," He pauses. "I wondered that too. But that's not the case."

"Definitely!" You clasp your hands together. "But that's only myfamilytrauma. I have plenty of tangled emotions when it comes to friends as well."

"Wanna talk?"

"I want sleep." You start back up, pulling Hinata along. "You better fuck me until I'm braindead when the storm hits."

"Why so?"

"So I can forget about my first love instead of processing it."

Hinata chuckles as you pull him along. "Will do."

When the sun sets to make way for the moon, your mind goes back to the past, wandering, thinking, praying, crying for some way to be able to change something. You wanted to cut people out earlier. You wanted to kill yourself. You wanted to do so many things, yet you never did a single one. Maybe everything could have been avoided if you had just stabbed yourself in the neck like you wanted to.

On other days, you brace yourself for when Hinata's going to break up with you. It should be exhausting to date you, you think.

When the storm hits, you ignore all warnings and step out into the rain, soaking from head to toe. You stare at the clouds above, heart strangely calm. Hinata would beat you if he were with you, you think. Well, maybe not beat. He'd definitely be worried. You're tired of a lot of things. You miss no one and nothing, and you no longer have a purpose in life. Maybe your next goal would be to get married and settle down, but you couldn't possibly fathom getting married. It was another thing, perhaps.

"There you are," Hinata holds the umbrella over the two of you, and you stare at him.

"I'd like to stay in the rain."

"I'll stay with you, then," He stands to the side as you run down the cement, and he follows behind as you throw your shoes off to feel the sand between your toes. He holds them in his free hand as you spin and sprint through the sand. It feels strange to him, but you have your reasons. You're soaked from head to toe, laughter louder than anything he's heard before, and he wonders if this was just another part of you.

"It's like washing away all your worries."

"The rain?"

"Yes."

Hinata stares at you fondly under the slams of the water from the sky, and he wonders if this could wash you off incredibly quickly. Maybe you'd feel better after the rain. Well, the two of you would have to shower. The rain was cleaner, sure, but it still wasn't clean. The acid spills from the tragedy are still hard to clean up, and sure, the earth is damaged beyond repair, but it's liveable. Hinata's seen more than enough plants sprout to know that earth is still inhabitable. But that was just humankind, he supposes: finding a way to live even on the brink of destruction.

You lie down in the sand, and Hinata steps close to you, staring down at you.

"Feel better?"

"Yes," You smile.

"Let's get back before the storm gets even worse."

"Will it?"

"Yes," Hinata holds the umbrella over your head, handing you the shoes. "We need to be inside at that point. I scheduled an announcement."

"Alright," You stand up, slipping your feet into the sandals, "Can we fuck?"

"After you shower."

"Can we fuck in the shower?"

Hinata sighs, dragging you along. "Let's warm you up first before you think about fucking."

"Alright," You hold onto his upper arm as he holds the umbrella, and the two of you go home.

☾﹠☽

"I wonder how you don't get hard," You close your eyes as Hinata's nails dig into your scalp to clean. "Do you not think I'm hot?"

"If you had to sit through how many times I get hard from you in a day, I think you'd think differently." Hinata feels the showerhead for temperature before he runs the water down your head.

"Really?"

"Yeah," He holds a hand to avert the bubbles from your eyes. "Right?"

You jolt as Hinata presses your back to his chest, and your eyes widen at the feeling.

"You're hard!"

"Yeah," He hums, changing the showerhead setting. Once the bubbles are out of the way, he holds you close to him by the thigh, pressing the showerhead at your clit, causing you to squeak.

"A-ah," You sputter. "What's— huh? It feels—"

Hinata chuckles lowly next to your ear, your legs twitching from the pressure. You wonder if Hinata is doing this to get back at you.

"You," You gasp. "Asshole!"

"You wanted this."

Your nails dig into his wrist as he leans closer, hooking an arm under your knee to hold you up as your legs give out. His other hand holds the showerhead to your clit, forcing the water pressure to hit you. The coil in your stomach tightens as your head is thrown back onto Hinata's shoulder as you feel something coming. Your voice wavers as he bites into your collar, and your nails leave marks as your orgasm crashes down on you.

Hinata lowers the pressure of the water, and he presses a gentle kiss to the bite mark before putting the showerhead back up. You lean against his frame, and he lowers your leg slowly.

"I hate you," You whimper, legs shaking.

"Stay still. I still need to condition your hair."

You reach behind you to smack him as he does, and Hinata purses his lips in amusement once you retract your hand.

"Close your mouth," He hums. "You're going to get the conditioner in your hair."

"You're as hard as a rock!"

"Which part?" You can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Your chest," You rub your knuckles as Hinata finishes with your hair. "I keep forgetting you're built like a boulder."

Hinata chuckles.

"Sit down," You turn around, forcing Hinata to his knees.

"Gonna sit on me?" You stare at him, forcing him on his ass, straddling him.

"Maybe later." You reach for the shampoo, nails digging into Hinata's scalp. "Is it too rough?"

"No." Hinata's eyes are closed as you continue. "You know, I miss life before Hope's Peak sometimes."

"Mhm," You hum, reaching for the showerhead.

"My middle school years were nice. My parents got along back then." He tilts his head back as you press the showerhead to his hair. "Though, I still felt like I wasn't enough since my parents were both ultimates."

"What were they?"

"A ballroom dancer..." Hinata opens his eyes to look at you. "and a theologist."

"Awful pairing," You pause. "Though I can see how they would work."

"They didn't work. They were both hot after surgery, and then they gave birth to me."

"You're hot, though?"

"Maybe to you." Hinata chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist. "But remember, I was just some guy before I was operated on."

"Still hot, though," You mumble, squirming as Hinata rests his hands on your waist. "It's not like they changed your bone structure or your face. Unless they did, and I didn't know."

"If they did that then they'd have to rewrite all the plans," Hinata reaches behind him to turn the water on.

You kneel up, hand reaching for his cock, pressing the tip to your pussy.

"You want to go raw?"

"They sent us plan b this time around," You blink at him for confirmation.

"Not yet," Hinata moves you onto your back, closing the water behind him. He runs his thumb down your labia, sliding a finger in slowly. Your breath hitches as he does, and Hinata presses a gentle kiss to your clit. You shudder at the feeling, and Hinata glances at you. "This is alright, right?"

"Yeah," You mumble. "Embarassed, but fine."

"Good," Hinata slides a second finger in, pressing on your walls. You squirm and pulse around him, and Hinata spreads your labia with his fingers, pressing his tongue plat against you. His fingers curl inside you as you pull on his hair, and he finds a pattern that gets you arching your back. Your mind hazes as he does, and you whimper, mouth open. Your heel digs into his back as you cum, and Hinata pulls his fingers out slowly, staring at the way your cum connects his fingers to you. His dick twitches at the sight. "How lewd."

You smack him playfully, face warm with embarrassment.

"Now," Hinata mumbles. "You should be wet enough."

He sits back as he pulls you to him. You get on your knees again, and you sink down slowly. Hinata presses his fingers into your waist, biting his bottom lip as you lower yourself. You choke once you take all of him in."Ah, fuck, you're big.Gimme a minute,ahto adjust, please."

Hinata rubs gentle circles on your waist as you squirm. He's thick.

You're glad he got you wet beforehand, but you wonder if you'd actually get split in half from his cock. You pulse around Hinata from the thought. "Mhm." You exhale finally. "You're big."

"Am I?"

"Very," You wrap your arms around his neck. "You're really hot too."

"Well," Hinata reaches behind him to turn off the water, and you squeal as he lifts you. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctually, and he sighs. "If you really say so." He adjusts your arms over his shoulders and holds a hand under your ass to support you.

"Are we going to bed?"

"I'm going to fuck you stupid," He leans in next to your ear. "And you're going to be screaming louder than the storm outside, and everyone's going to hear how much of a whore you are for me." You clench around him, and Hinata hums. "You like it."

"Mhm," You're practically drooling at this point. His eyes follows yours to where the two of you are connected, and a smirk graces his face.

"What do you want me to do, sweetheart?"

You stare up at him, eyes wide. "You can't be serious."

"Hm?"

"Hinata, please."

He stares down at you. "Nothing? I can pull out right no—"

"No!" You tighten your arms around his shoulder. "I want... I want you to fuck me."

"Come on, use your words."

"I want you to fuck me stupid," You stare at him, desperate. "Rail me so good and pump me so full that the plan b won't even work. Please, please,please."

"There you go," He smiles. "Good job, precious."

You gasp as he pulls out and thrusts back in, and you shake as he finally places you in bed.

His thumbs dig into your hips as he holds your legs over his shoulders, folding you into the bed. You gasp as he forces himself deeper into you, and you grab at the sheets, knuckles turning white as he starts thrusting. Your lips part, words turning into incomprehensible noises. His cock's making it hard to think. Your mind blurs as you lay there, and your gasps turn sharp as you feel your stomach tightening again. There's no way he was making you cum this fast.

"S-slow down," You gasp, nails digging into the sheets. "'s, 's too much!"

"You can take it, right? I know you can, sweetheart." Hinata mumbles into your ear, and he hisses as you cum around him. He presses a kiss to your jaw, mumbling sweetly into your ear, "You're so good for me, right? Look at you, listening so well for me. I think you deserve a little reward, hm?"

You move your arms to warp around his neck, and Hinata smiles.

"You're so pretty," You mumble, whimpering as Hinata slides out slightly.

"Am I?"

"Gorgeous," You gasp as Hinata bounces you on his cock again, and you grimace from how sensitive you are. Your mind blanks, and you barely register what you're saying, even if Hinata understood. "Pretty, so pretty... you're so dazzling... hic, Hajime! hot... perfect! I,mm, don't think I could,hah, live with—out you!"

Hinata chuckles, smiling gently.

"Is that so?"

"MhM!" Your head digs into the crook of his neck, and you bite. "My pretty Haji."

Hinata hisses from the feeling of your teeth, and his thrusting grows erratic as he gets closer. "You're pretty too, precious. You're so good for me, you know? You're always there in the morning when I wake up, and you're always waiting for me to open up. God, you're gorgeous, you know?"

You whine as you clench around him harder.

"Only you, darling." Hinata digs his fingers into your waist as you cum, sending Hinata over the edge as well. His hips dig into yours, and he bites into your neck, you whimper into his neck, and Hinata sets you into the bed gently, almost as if handling a newborn.

Your eyes droop as Hinata leaves to grab the towel to wipe you down.

"Do you have energy to shower?"

"After four orgasms?" You stare at him.

"I'll carry you back. You're going to feel disgusting in the morning."

"Alright," You yawn, leaning on Hinata as he hooks his arms under your back and knees. "Can I suck your tits next time?"

Hinata chokes. "Really?"

"Really." You mumble. "Sorry for making you shower twice."

"Don't be," He smiles. "I wouldn't have gone along if I didn't want to."

"Mmk," You close your eyes. "You know, Hinata, I think I know what you are now."

"You didn't know what I was?"

"You're average," You grin, reaching up at him once he sets you in the water. "You're the most painfully average guy I know."

"Still?"

"No, you're average in the perfect way. In the end, perfect still suffers, so I suppose you're just as average as some superhuman can get," You lean on his chest as he rubs the bubbles down your back. "I wonder how we're dating."

"Because you're beautifully average in your own way," Hinata hums, the vibrations traveling down your skin. "You're just any other student on this island, and your background is what sent you here with the rest of us, right?"

"I suppose," You smile.

A silence covers the two of you as Hinata finishes washing you, and you sit back as you watch him scrub himself. You feel safe in this small hut. You missed the feeling of warmth spreading through your chest. Hinata was your home now. Just as he had chosen to stay when you were sick, you had chosen to stay with him. Hajime Hinata loved you vivaciously. His hands were warm on your skin, and his hands were warm holding onto yours. Hajime Hinata was the embodiment of the sun as you had adored him to pieces as the moon. Maybe he had heard you call. Perhaps the way he stood in front of you was proof of it.

You stretch your arms out as Hinata helps you into a robe, and you yawn. "Hinata, have you ever seen a whale?"

"In person?" He helps you close the robe.

"Yea." You hum.

"No," Hinata ties the belt around your waist and ties his own. "Do you want me to carry you?"

"No," You follow him as he leaves the bathroom, and he helps you into the bed. Pulling the covers over you, he pulls the string to turn the master light off. Sliding into bed next to you, he closes the lamp. You stare at the way his pecs peek from behind his robe. Next time.

"You know," You blink, realizing your exhaustion. "I once read about a whale who kept calling but never got an answer."

Hinata rolls on his side, tracing mindless circles on your skin. "The 52 hertz whale?"

"Yea," You hum. "It got a friend recently according to marine biologists."

"Really?"

"Another whale called back," You smile, rolling onto your side to smile at Hinata.

Hinata wraps his arms around you, eyes closing as he breathes in your skin. You're cool against his skin, and he welcomes the feeling.

"Thank you for responding," You mumble, eyes closing.

"Thank you for calling." He smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your eye. "Good night, love. I'll see you in the morning."

"Sweet dreams, pretty boy." You lean into his chest. "Love you."

"Love you too."

꒰ 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 ꒱ 박성호

summary : you and your husband were throwing a bbq party, and sungho has somehow convinced you he was going to grill

genre : fluff, husband!sungho x afab!reader, girldad!sungho, non-idol!au, bbqdad!au tws : kisses, language, bad bbq puns, father sungho author notes : this is zanna's fault for indulging my delusions word count : 1.3k

“hey babygrill.” 

you turned, “sungho—”

“is it hot grill summer?” he asked, a wood-handled, metal spatula clutched between his fingers. “because you’re smoking hot.” you cringed, holding back a laugh as he leaned sideways, fingers turning the dial on the front of the grill. the vein in his neck strained with the angle, making it prominent against the midday sunlight. the defined muscles of his arms flexed, and you stared like you’d never seen him before—even though you’d been married to him for two years now, dating him for three before that. you reached out, tracing the lines, feeling the heat from the grill and sun combine against his untainted-tan skin. 

“i’m going to get our daughter ready,” he ignored your touch, knowing it wasn’t anything new. he liked it though, knowing you weren’t like that before him. “myself, too.”

“sure, babe.” he replied, hovering his palm a few inches over the metal rack he had cleaned just a couple minutes ago. “go ahead. i’ve got this all under control.”

who was he really trying to convince? you thought. your husband wasn’t a master chef by any means, but when you craved late-night snacks, he was definitely the man for the job.

“are you sure,” you quizzed. “maybe don’t start until i get back?”

“my love,” he met your eyes, head still slightly hung as he adjusted the heat. his longer hair fell to the side effortlessly, cascading like a waterfall. “i’ll be fine.”

“oh no,” you laughed. “i’m worried about my house, sungho.” 

he faked being offended. “what the hell? i’m a great chef!”

“you’re great at a lot of things, baby, there’s no doubt about it, but cooking just isn’t one of them.” his fake started to become genuine, arms crossing over his broad chest. you tried hard not to stare again. “right now!” you added, “practice makes perfect! but, just wait for me to supervise. i would like for there to be a backyard to have this party in…” you kissed his shoulder. “please?” 

ultimately, you always won him over. “fine, i’ll cut up stuff for the sides instead.” you weren't sure about that either, however it’s something you’ve made him do often for you. so, it should go fine, shouldn’t it? “but, hurry, i’d like to get these burgers sizzling. you could say, the steaks are high, right now, y/n. want them to be grate for our family and friends.” 

you mentally facepalmed. when did you marry such a cheesy guy? you guess it's for the best that he became a dad after all, with these (terrible) jokes of his. 

you left him to attend to the vegetables for the burgers, finding your daughter in front of a fan on the couch, basking in the air that blew directly in her face. bluey was playing on the TV, the accents rubbing off on her slightly. 

she lit up, “mommy!”

“hi, baby.” you plopped down next to her, and she instantly nozzled against your side. “do you wanna bet on daddy burning something?” 

she eyed you, then nodded, “seven fruit snacks.” you hummed, seemingly thinking it over. but before you had the chance to agree, she added, “and 45 minutes past bedtime.”

you cocked your head, slightly in disbelief, but mostly in amusement. 

“deal.” you held your hand for her to take, which she did (hand significantly smaller than yours) closing the bargain. “i have faith in my husband.” 

you lied, but regardless, you honestly wanted your miniature version to win.

you silently watched a couple more minutes with her, glancing at the clock on the wall. you threaded your hand through her hair, thinking about the styles you could put it into today; ultimately knowing what your kid would prefer. 

“first one ready gets dessert before dinner!”

she jumped off the couch, small legs carrying down the hall and presumably to the bathroom. you followed after a moment, hearing the water start to run.

once finished, you joined sungho outside again, prepared for guests to start showing up. he had to do a double take when you walked out, and if this was a cartoon, you feared his eyes would’ve been popping out of his head. 

“woah,” he snaked his hands around your waist, after abandoning the grill carelessly, planting a couple kisses against your lips and surrounding skin. “damn, are you a5 wagyu?” he murmured, eyes roaming over your figure, “‘cause you look expensive.”  

you caught the look your (almost) three year old daughter gave him; the same one she gave tomatoes. you stifled a laugh against his lips.  

“ew, daddy!” she shrieked at your kiss, wiggling in your arms to push him back. “that’s my mommy!” she argued, throwing her small limbs around your neck and puckering her lips against your cheek. 

“i’m sorry, baby.” he put his palm to your daughter's head gently, kissing her temple. “I’m just letting your mom follow my apron’s instructions.” he revealed said tightly-tied clothing: kiss the chef adorned with fake abs (not that he needed them) printed on it. once again, you wondered when you married such an unserious guy. 

she began to hysterically laugh, and you guffawed, sungho taking her from you gladly. she hugged around his neck, “damn girly, you got a grip.” she squeezed tighter, kissing his cheek too. “i almost passed out!” that prompted a competition between the two, giggles sounding throughout the backyard as your daughter hugged tighter and tighter. 

you were only interrupted when his parents voices cut through the noise, “where’s my pretty princess of a granddaughter?” suddenly said girl was pushing from your husband, trying her hardest to be put down; her grandparents were arguably her second-favorite people. they took care of her during your date-nights and any other time sungho would ask. you’d never had a good relationship with your parents, but you were glad that they took you in for your daughter and husband's sake. 

they met your side, gaining a hug from you. 

“daddy! put me down!” she whined, causing you to giggle at the sight, “please!” 

he shook his head, attacking her with more hugs and kisses. 

it was refreshing to see such a man who wasn’t afraid to show his love and adoration for someone–especially his daughter. 

finally she broke free, running the short distance to sungho’s dad and jumping into his arms. she resumed the game with him, arms wrapping around his neck. 

“i made you something last night!” her attempt to get put down was easier than before, and once she hit the ground she was off, ushering her grandma and grandpa to follow into the house. “c’mon, it’s for your fridge!” 

sungho met your side once again, arm around your midsection, your head laid on his shoulder. you were glad you started a family with him of all people, even though when you were younger you weren't sure you would ever have wanted kids; but everything just felt so safe and secure with him. every doubt and uncertainty was put to rest when he was around. 

“she converted me into a girl-dad.” 

you laughed, “babe, you’ve always been a girl dad. do you remember when we found out, no one cried harder than you did.” 

he waved you off with a pfft sound, “she’s just so adorable, you can’t blame me.” he broke away, arms up innocently, standing back. “she’s a miniature version of you.” 

you spun to face him, “no, she’s exactly like you, baby. terrible humor, no respect for bedtime, fluffy-ass hair.” 

a hum resonated. he was staring again, eyes flicking over you casually. “should we have another, you think? another girl, but i’d love a miniature version of me, too.” your eyebrows rose in amusement, until your attention found itself locked behind him on the copious amount of smoke. 

“it’s burning.” 

“yeah, i know.” he said in a duh-tone, words adorned with his eyes rolling, “you’re hotter than the grill.”

“no, babe.” you grabbed his bare shoulders, spinning him around. “there’s actually a fire right now.” 

“oh my god!” you didn’t need to be facing him to see his eyes go wide, shoulders tensing under your grip. you giggled, sungho moving quickly to grab the tongs from the side table and move the food from the flame that had developed. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, slightly frantic. 

“i guess you could say… missteaks were made.”

he turned slowly, a shit-eating grin across his face, “i knew you liked them.”

of course you did. it was sungho. 

suddenly a voice called out, “mommy, you owe me my fruit snacks!”

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

— perm tag list .ᐟ @whyilovewhales-pdf @lynnimini @gluion @greentulip @slytherinshua @mystarsohee | send an ask to be added c:

— network tag list .ᐟ @onedoornet @blossomnet @starlit-network @chrimatanet

— back to masterlist .ᐟ

SLEIGHT OF HAND | LYNEY

summary you will not let lyney get to you. unfortunately, lyney already got to you the moment you met eyes. after all, what is a magician if not an expert in stealing hearts?

or, local sumeru architect goes to fontaine looking for inspiration and comes out of it with three rainbow roses and a crushing magician.

warnings 13+, gn!reader, follows the fontaine archon quest, so there are major spoilers throughout the entire fic! MURDER (lyney trial spoilers) + feminine french pet names ough + bff!Aether loml + sweet talker lyney + KISS SCENE (suggestive)

notes 8K words. thank u to my french bff art @aanobrain who said lyney is a magician he would say mon lapin 🤧❤️ + other various french pet names. thank u to ellie hyomagiri & earthtooz too for hyping this up, my supporters…

“500,000!?”

Sumeru streets are always bustling with its people—from children skipping around the neighborhood to frantic scholars who zip back and forth before returning to their homes when the moon is high. However, the sun is beating down on everyone right now: street vendors are making a profit, dogs are barking as they play fetch with laughing children, and you stand across the blond traveler and his floating companion.

You wince at the volume of Paimon’s shrill voice, inciting bypassers to send miffed glances your way. Embarrassed, you cover the side of your face with a hand, whispering, “Is—is that not enough? I can—”

“No, no, it’s not that!” Paimon’s arms flail around, eyes blown comically wide. “It’s just, you know, more than what we earn from our daily commissions combined!”

“Oh, I see.” you nod, relieved. “Well, I can lower—”

“No, no, no, no,” Paimon interjects hurriedly, and even the traveler shakes his head. “Pleasure to do business with you! Paimon and Aether, at your service!”

“Really?” you can’t believe your luck—the traveler himself agreed to escort you to Fontaine! Or does it count if Paimon agrees on his behalf? “That's a relief. Even Katheryne of the guild had a strange expression when I posted my commission.”

“It’s probably because of the amount of zeroes you might’ve accidentally put,” Paimon murmurs.

Aether tugs on her foot as if warning her. “We'll be leaving soon. Are you prepared?”

“Oh, yes. My stuff’s over there by the bench, you see?”

Aether and Paimon’s faces simultaneously fall. “All of that?” Paimon starts counting it, gaping when she has four little fingers held up.

They sure complain a lot. “You can still back out.”

Aether takes a deep breath, making his way over to your luggage. When he brushes past, you hear him chanting 500,000; 500,000; 500,000 under his breath. He wordlessly carries all of them, his chest puffed and expression grave.

“They’re heavier than I thought,” Aether wheezes out as Paimon flits worriedly around him. “How long are you going to be staying in Fontaine?”

“Oh, just a day or two, maybe,” you say, taking pity and taking one bag from him. “Most of what’s inside are art supplies.”

“Ah,” Aether says.

“500,000,” Paimon reminds him.

“We’re close,” Paimon says, flying back to where you and Aether are still walking behind, him heaving and you offering water now and then. “I saw a huge ravine-looking view! It was like a city on a waterfall!”

“R-Really?” Aether puffs out a breath, sweat rolling off his temple.

You tried prying some of your bags away from him when it seemed like there were monsters up ahead, but he refused instead to fight them with one hand on his sword. He still won. You guessed that he was trying to make traveling easier for you, yet all you felt was immense worry.

“Are you feeling okay, Y/N?” Paimon asks, floating beside you. “You look unwell.” You should ask your companion that, instead.

“I’m a bit nervous. After all, it’s my first time traveling outside of Sumeru.” You smile, patting her head. She doesn’t seem to mind, beaming back. “But I need to get out of my comfort zone to be better, right?”

“That's right! Paimon has a feeling you’ll enjoy Fontaine!” You and Paimon glance at Aether when he heaves a heavy breath, yet he only waves the pair of you off with his free hand. “Before you know it, you’ll be itching to travel again once you’re back in Sumeru.”

“I'm only there for work. I just need to learn a lot, and then I'll enjoy it.”

“Still a student through and through, huh…”

“I can see it,” Aether chimes in, looking all too relieved to rest his arm finally. “I can see Fontaine up ahead.”

You feel the cool breeze brush against your face, a refreshing change from the past hours you and the other two have been trudging through the desert. You could strip off layers and dive if you could. You can make out the harbor even miles away, pouring water out like an endless waterfall stretching for miles.

Arriving in Fontaine is introducing yourself to the rustle of layered skirts, the water-kissed smell, and citizens left and right babbling about tragic endings and thrilling climaxes.

Aether sets your bags on the floor with a heavy exhale. Paimon feeds him with another jug of water.

“I guess we’re here now.” You pull out a heavy pouch you’ve been keeping in one of the bags Aether had been holding over his shoulder. Paimon takes it with greedy, greedy hands. “Thank you for keeping me safe and carrying my luggage, Traveler— are you even listening to me?”

“There’s a girl over there,” Aether says, now staring ahead.

You and Paimon turn to look; sure enough, someone is standing by the edge, looking forlornly over the water. Half of her foot is off the platform, making Paimon fidget.

She gasps. “She isn’t going to jump into the water, is she? Maybe we should go check on her…”

Halfway through Paimon’s sentence, you gathered the courage to speak to the girl with the cat ears.

“Hey, miss.” Her ear twitches. “Is something the matter?”

She turns, looking faintly surprised. If you weren’t so close to her, you wouldn’t have been able to tell there was a change in her expression. “I'm fine. thank you.”

“Oh.” Now things are a little awkward. “Is there something in the water you’re looking at? You might slip if you keep tipping forward.”

She peers below, unworried—silent.

“As long as you’re okay, I guess,” you sigh, awkwardly hovering above her shoulder when realizing it might come off strange if you touch her. “I’ll leave you be.”

Her lips twitch, something close to a smile. You don’t stick long enough to admire it, heading back to Aether and Paimon and shrugging at their inquisitive looks. “She says she’s fine.”

“I think it’s time for me to separate,” you say. “I want to take all of it in as much as possible. Paimon has my payment. Thank you both so much for keeping me safe.” Mostly Aether, though. But Paimon was there, emotionally.

“It’s no problem,” Aether says, his smile warmer than when you first met him. “Stay safe out there. You can look for us if you need anything else.”

“I don’t always pay 500,000 for each of my commissions.”

Paimon wilts. Aether flushes, stammering, “Not what I meant.” You laugh heartily as they wave when you walk off to the aquabus, hopefully, prepared for what Fontaine will give you.

Your sketchbook is a page away from completion when you hear about a magic show at the Opera House. Not that it was hard to miss—everyone and their grandmothers were prattling about nothing else but the entire day.

Fontaine is known for its love for dramatics, but the twins they keep mentioning must be a one-of-a-kind spectacle to have half their region’s population speak about them so reverently.

After wandering for hours, taking in the endless sights of fresh water streaming and grand castle-like modern buildings, you find yourself in the Fountain of Lucine. You’ve heard of Fontaine being somewhat titled the ‘City of Love,’ but seeing couples surrounding each nook and cranny of the tourist spots was still astonishing.

(You console yourself by thinking that there’s something romantic in sketching frantically while the rest of the crowd are sucking faces.)

To your luck, you spot three familiar heads in the fountain plaza.

Aether senses you before you can even say anything, glancing to the side and smiling when you wave at him.

Paimon flutters excitedly. “Y/N! We didn’t think we’d see you again this early. You look like you’re glowing.”

“Was it that obvious?” you laugh sheepishly. “Fontaine is beautiful; I couldn’t even stick too long in one place before I see something else that catches my attention.” You look to the girl you met earlier, who nods politely. “Hello. Are you three acquainted now?”

“Mhm!” Paimon says, hands on her hips. “This is Lynette! She’s inviting us to the show they’re holding here!” She gasps, “Speaking of—”

“Ah,” Lynette says quietly, “I couldn’t get an extra ticket. I’m sorry.”

Lynette is the magician you keep hearing about? With her seemingly reserved personality, you wouldn’t have guessed it. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Paimon,” Aether speaks up. “They gave you your ticket, right? Why don’t you just float next to me or sit on my lap?”

Paimon’s eyes sparkle. “Great idea! That way, I can give my seat to Y/N, right?”

“You guys…” Your chest feels warm as Aether hands you one of the two tickets in his hand. “You really didn’t have to.” Is this what 500,00 gets you? The loyal companionship of Aether and Paimon?

“It’s a good idea,” Lynette says. “My brother wouldn’t want you to miss the show. He’d be devastated.”

“If you insist, then I suppose I can’t refuse.” Aether and Paimon do a cute little cheer. “But I need to return to the hotel; I can’t be watching a magic show carrying all these.” Surely Aether can understand.

Later, with your hands finally empty and charcoal-free, you rush back to the Opera Epiclese, the person standing guard kind enough to open the doors despite being a minute late.

“Welcome, one and all, to the Opera Epiclese!” The audience roars with cheers as the spotlight illuminates a figure on the center of the stage. You hurry to your seats, brushing past Aether and Paimon. “I am the star of today’s show, Lyney.”

Lyney bows, then stands upright with a Cheshire cat grin.

The thunder of the crowd’s applause is deafening. If you weren’t able to see it, you’d think that you hadn’t been clapping at all—senses numbed and your fixed stare all on the boy on the stage.

Your eyes catch on the small braid on the side of his head before the gleam of his eyes hypnotizes you.

He’s handsome, you think dizzily at the back of your head.

“Don’t blink,” he says, his voice lower as if meant to be a whisper, “or else you might miss it.”

The show proceeds. A dove soars away from inside as he flips his hat; you flush at hearing the soft laughter that slips from him after. The cards that materialize out of nowhere descend to the floor. His fingers shuffle the cards while talking to keep the audience satiated; they fly off his hands, yet he doesn’t lose focus, stretching them mid-air with a sleight of hand. They fall apart and come together neatly and precisely.

His stage presence is demanding. It would be as if Lady Furina herself would accuse you of committing a crime if you were to look away for even a second.

Then, when he scans the crowd, busy twirling his cards in his fingers, his gaze catches your awed ones.

Something in the air shifts. Or maybe it’s that it slows.

A card slips from his grasp. A mistake. He blinks and breaks eye contact, laughing heartily to play it off. But you don’t believe it—not when you swore your limbs locked in place as well when lilac drilled into your soul.

You breathe, hands bracing against your chest. What was that?

You would’ve played it off as something you imagined if not for Lyney continuing to glance at you occasionally. His slip-up had been forgotten, as though it was all part of the show.

(Is it also part of the show when it seems he’s unable to tear his eyes off of you?)

Of course, the twins prove their worth. They showed you exactly why the people of Fontaine adore watching them through theatrical magic, cards in their sleeves, and defying logic.

You’ve shuffled to the edge of your seat as Lynette disperses into bubbles and comes back alive. You’ve held your breath as Lyney emerges from the box across he was in a moment earlier.

You’ve also been witness to the murder of Cowell.

CRASH.

The shatter of glass resounded along with the horrified gasps of the audience. Sickeningly enough, you could almost hear the crack of bones if you hadn’t been crying out in alarm. Yet, as they gape and shriek over the sight of a limp arm popping out, you find your gaze tracing back to Lyney, who stands motionless in front of the box.

When Lady Furina points fingers and has everyone siding against him, the guards escort the audience from the Opera House. All evidence presented left Lyney in a spotlight unlike his performance: with a disgusted and unamused crowd. Even you have to agree that it isn’t looking well for his case at all.

Yet all you can think of as you leave the room is that Lyney looked as terrified as everyone else was—much too raw of an expression for someone to accuse him of anything at all. He looked young and scared.

(His hands were shaking.)

The rest of your Fontaine trip is admittedly duller when you’re a little more familiar with its city and don’t have a yapping little fairy and a capable Traveler by your side. It’s hard not to hear chatter about the events that went down: Lyney’s trial, Aether volunteering to be his lawyer, and the truth behind the real murderer.

It solved a case beyond the murder of Cowell. Fontaine sure has its mysteries, and the crowd sure loves them as they would a magic show.

You keep your hands busy. Last night, you found yourself thinking back to the magic show, to deft fingers weaving through cards, to violet eyes that kept on flickering to you. By the time you snap back to reality, you’ve subconsciously drawn shapes and lines that suspiciously look like the magician himself: the curve of a smile, piercing eyes, and you entranced by it all.

Flustered, you crumple his face staring back at you out of sight. Yet you can’t bring yourself to throw it away.

You shove the last bit of garlic baguette in your mouth to furiously bat these unwanted thoughts away.

“Isn’t that Y/N?” Paimon’s voice is unmistakable, a short distance off.

You jump out of your skin, spinning to see Aether and Paimon waving and walking over to you. You thought they'd already left Fontaine after that; you wouldn’t blame them if they did.

“Y/N! We haven’t seen you since the Opera House performance,” Paimon exclaims, twirling around your head like a thrilled fly circling a trash can.

You hold onto her back, hoping she’ll stop making you dizzy. “We were escorted out before I could say goodbye. I couldn’t watch the court trial but heard it all turned out fine.”

“That’s right!” Paimon nods proudly. “Paimon helped a ton during it; you should’ve seen it! What have you been doing?”

“I found a fellow architect while visiting the cafe nearby, and we chatted for hours,” you say, remembering that your voice is hoarse for that reason. You also don’t tell them you couldn’t get a certain magician off your mind. “I learned a lot. I don’t regret coming here one bit.”

Paimon says something else that you’re sure you’ve nodded absentmindedly at while your gaze wanders over to the two familiar people a few feet behind, watching you three with cat-like eyes—and it’s not just because of Lynette’s unique features.

“Those are the magicians, right?” you gesture behind Paimon and Aether as if you haven’t already familiarized yourself with their faces.

Paimon nods. “Uh-huh. You should introduce yourself! They look like they want to talk.”

Something about that feels foreboding. “Um, no, it’s fine. I don’t want to be rude and interrupt your conversation.”

“No,” Aether says firmly. He seldom speaks; you might as well play along if he says so. “Besides, Paimon is right. Lyney wants to talk to you, you know?”

“Oh, yeah! He kept mentioning seeing someone sitting beside us! And it couldn’t have been Neuvillette because he said it was an unfamiliar beauty that bewitched this weak magician’s heart.” Paimon nods, even recalling how he’s enunciated each syllable theatrically.

“I’m sorry?” you blurt. “Lyney recognizes me? What did I do?”

“Paimon thinks it’s because Lyney is curious about who Lynette met! He was like that with us, too.” Paimon changes her pitch to match Lyney’s. “Are these your friends, Lynette?”

Aether’s eyes feel like they know something you don’t. “It won’t hurt to strike up a conversation with Lyney. He’s been shaken up since the trial.”

There’s something unspoken hidden in his words. “What does that mean?”

Paimon doesn’t wait for an answer, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you to where the twins are waiting. Aether chuckles as he jogs behind.

“Paimon, Aether,” Lyney says, almost sly, “You haven’t introduced us to your friend here.”

“Paimon can do it!” She floats on top of your head and does a bit of jazz hands. “This is Y/N, the one who commissioned us to escort them from Sumeru up to Fontaine.”

“Generously,” Aether adds.

It’s a little embarrassing to have the legendary Traveler and Paimon introduce little old you to a famous magician such as himself, but his grin is still excited.

“From Sumeru?” Lyney repeats, smiling wider when you nod—as if that crumb of attention is enough for him. “I see.”

He performs a bow around the same height as where your hands rest; he takes one, kisses the back of your palm, and smiles against your skin. “I’m Lyney, and she is my sister, Lynette.”

“It’s nice to see you again.” You smile at Lynette, who nods in return. Lyney straightens to look at his sister.

“We met when the Traveler and Paimon just arrived at the harbor,” Lynette sighs even without looking at her brother.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say, meeting Lyney’s eyes. The spot where he kissed is still warm—tingling. “Your show was incredible, despite what happened. I’m glad that the truth revealed itself.”

“Thank you.” Lyney’s gaze sharpens. “I saw you at the performance, yes. I was worried for a second you might steal the show if you were to come up on stage.”

You blink. “Are you saying—”

Lyney grins, “I apologize that the night had to end that way; it must’ve been horrifying. Say, what if I give you a little show right now to make it up to you?” Did he make it up to each one of his audience, too?

This is not a man acting “shaken up,” as Aether put it.

“You really don’t have to.” You glance at Aether and Paimon, silently asking for help; however, they’re too far gone, urging you to say yes with gestures and encouraging nods.

Lyney tilts his head, demanding your attention on him once more.

You sigh. “I would love to see it if you don’t mind.”

“Of course!” Lyney looks like he’s the sun bursting personified. “It would be a pleasure, ma chérie. Not to worry, it’s nothing life-threatening. I just need you to focus on me.”

Not that it’s hard. The others have become a dull buzz in your mind as Lyney holds your gaze. “Okay.”

Lyney smiles, much softer, satisfied. “Good. Now,” he tips his hat, “recently, I’ve received a little lesson from someone about the language of flowers. Are you familiar with them?”

“Not in Fontaine, no,” you mumble, watching his hands closely. You were expecting a rabbit to hop out of that hat any second now.

“Shame. But I suppose I wouldn’t want to spoil the fun.” Lyney snaps his finger, then deposits his hand inside his hat. “Hmm… Oh? Something’s not quite right. Would you mind looking into this hat for me to see if the flower is here?”

You hesitate. The hat is so close to him.

Swallowing, you nod, leaning in to inspect his hat at a careful pace. All you can sense is the faint scent of heat Lyney is emanating, the breath you two share, and the pounding of your chest. You swear you could also hear his, matching yours.

“The hat’s empty.”

Lyney smiles wider. “Yes, perhaps because you already have it.”

You jump back in surprise, your hands patting your body to see where he could have snuck the flower in. With your frantic movement, the flower falls off from what seems to have come from your head—Lyney catches it.

His mouth carves into a smirk, leaning to invade your personal space, his free hand coming up to tuck hair behind your ear. “Careful.”

Your face is burning. Plucking the flower out, the delicate and tender pink sears into your palm. “What does this flower mean?”

“What does it, I wonder?” Lyney whispers thoughtfully. “I suppose you’ll have to tell me once you find out.”

And when he inclines backward, it feels like you can breathe again. Time flows normally, and the people passing by seem much louder than before—as though you’ve surfaced from underwater.

Lyney clears his throat. “Shame I haven’t prepared myself a grand show for you, but I suppose that would call for another time, wouldn’t it?”

Lynette is looking at Lyney as if he is stupidly amusing.

“Thank you,” you say, burning, burning. “For the show, I mean.”

“That was a little weird,” Paimon whispers to Aether, but she is terrible with keeping volume and has everyone turning to her with varying expressions. “P-Paimon means that was good! Wow, Lyney! Isn’t that a different flower you gave us? That’s the flower Charlotte was talking about, right?”

“Rainbow rose?” Aether supplies.

“Yes! It means—”

“Ahem.” Lyney is quick to interrupt. “Lynette and I must take our leave now, if you don’t mind. It was fun catching up with you two.” You have to hold your ground and not look away when he hones in on your figure. “And it’s a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be a stranger. Look for me if you want more.”

His smile is a little devilish, you now realize.

“Bye,” Lynette says blankly, following after her brother, who seemed to be hurrying to exit.

His ears were red.

“You’re still staring.”

“I am not,” you rebuke hotly, flailing to cover Aether’s mouth with your hands. Yet all it does is bring your attention back to where Paimon and Aether are staring—the rainbow rose on your person.

Paimon and Aether yelp when you drag them away despite Lyney having already left the scene.

“Hey—! Don’t just go dragging Paimon around like a balloon like that! Did Lyney get to your head that much?”

“He did not.”

Paimon tilts her head, frowning. You shy away from her worried gaze, glaring at the flower instead. You still don’t know how Lyney managed to get it there; you hold it to your chest, where your heart is racing miles per minute because of his stupidly smug smile.

“What does this flower mean, Paimon?”

Paimon seems elated to be of help. “Easy! Charlotte told us that Rainbow Roses mean ‘passion’ and most notably ‘romantic encounters’!”

“Passion,” you curse. The rose seems as if it is staring back innocently, unknowing of the turmoil you’re going through because of it. “Romantic encounters.’ ugh.”

You can still remember how Lyney’s eyes twinkled as you felt his breath against your face.

“Ooh, he thinks he can trick me. He thinks he can affect me just because it pleases him to do so. I’ll show him. I’ll show him! I am not a blushing maiden!”

“You’re already very affected by this,” Paimon says, yet it’s lost by your newfound determination. Two can play at this game.

You’ve definitely been staying in Fontaine longer than what you told Aether and Paimon, but you can’t leave yet. Not when you found yourself walking to a flower shop to purchase a vase, fiercely digging through soil, turning gentle when your fingers reach for the Rainbow Rose. Not when you see it in the corner of your eyes as you try to sleep, and you find yourself daydreaming about a charming violet-eyed virtuoso.

It’s for research, you excused lamely at the hotelkeeper who didn’t ask why you’re extending your stay. In truth, not that you’d tell anyone. It was because you were hoping for another grand show from him. A farewell show for you—closure.

If you were to travel back home and get too drunk to think straight, Kaveh would learn about your crisis (romantic awakening?) and laugh at your face.

In hopes of looking for your Fontaine architect friend, you spot Lyney instead, on the side of the street surrounded by cheering kids. They clap and jump, and Lyney laughs. “One more, one more!”

“Again?” Lyney does an exaggerated sigh. “I’m starting to run out of cards in my sleeves. I’ve guessed my entire deck from your hands by this point!”

“But, Mr. Magician,” one of them whines, pouting up at him and blinking, “we want to see more! We want to know how you do it!”

“Alright, how about this, hm?” And then Lyney peers right at you. Ironically, you’re the one startled when you’ve been watching that entire spiel, and he hasn’t acknowledged your presence beforehand. “Y/N, would you mind giving these children a little show with me?” He gestures for you to come closer.

“What show?” you ask suspiciously, taking slow steps in case he pulls out another flower out of nowhere.

“You don’t have to worry,” Lyney laughs. “Will you be my assistant for this show? You are very familiar with this trick.”

“Please, we want to see!”

You falter at the little kids’ excited grins, especially when paired with Lyney’s pout and round eyes. “Okay, tell me what to do.”

His eyes do the little gleam again. “Stand in front of me, mon lapin.”

Your heart is skipping beat after beat, making itself known as you shuffle until Lyney is directly behind you.

“Relax, chérie, you just need to stand still.” It’s a little hard to relax when you feel his breath against the back of your neck, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting that, so you keep your chin high and relax your shoulders. “Good.” 

He begins to speak louder to his awaiting audience. “I know it’s hard to keep your eyes off this beauty before me, but watch the hat for a surprise, alright?”

He flips it for his little audience, one hand resting on your waist and the other extended to hold his top hat. The proximity is almost suffocating. You watch with bated breath, and they complain about it being empty.

“Oh, is it?” Lyney hums, twirling the hat until it’s flipped upside down, presented right before you. “Perhaps I need my assistant’s help.” You snap out of your daze when you realize he’s talking to you. “Y/N, do me a favor and show them the flower inside.”

You reach inside the hat and, much to your surprise, feel a stem. You pull it out; the Rainbow Rose stares back at you, almost mocking you, saying he did pull out a flower out of nowhere. It's this trick again.

The kids gasp in awe and confusion—it’s all the same for Lyney, who snaps his fingers and creates magic like he was made to. Like magic was for him to summon with his hands.

“What? It was empty!”

“Where did that come from? I was watching Mister Magician’s hands the whole time!”

“Are you a magician, too?”

“No,” you say lamely, holding the rose, feeling Lyney still patiently standing behind you. Heat crawls up your neck. “No, I’m not. It’s all Lyney.”

“It’s all me,” Lyney echoes in amusement. “You’re quite magical yourself.” Finally, he spares you, pulling away to stand beside your figure. He doesn’t take the rose back—maybe even give it to one of the children. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “That’s enough for today. The sun is setting, and your parents might get worried.”

They pout and slump their shoulders, but Lyney has this older brother's sternness to him that has the children scurrying back home anyway.

You then realize having to stand in front of Lyney was unnecessary.

The flower is warm. Lyney’s eyes slip to yours.

“I didn’t even have to stand in front of you like that,” you complain, heart inclined to race off your body.

“Yes, but I feared that I would slip up again if I were to catch a glimpse of your face,” Lyney admits smoothly. His lips curl into a smirk when you stare wordlessly. “What? Don’t believe me? I had to improvise when I saw you watching from afar.”

“A great magician such as yourself? Making a mistake? I doubt it.”

“You already have such high expectations placed on me, chérie,” Lyney says, his smile easy, but his ears are a little red, poking out from his hair. “That’s no good. With no audience, I’m just plain ‘Lyney’ to you.”

“No trickery? No cards up your sleeves?” you play along.

Lyney doesn’t miss a beat. “No, though I do have a few more roses begging to be held by your hands.”

“They can keep begging.” Lyney grins wider when you glance down at his hands. “Do you give them off to everyone you meet?”

“Who do you take me for?” Lyney isn’t offended; he laughs, delighted. He is preening under the sunset—or maybe it’s your attention. “Of course not. At least, not like this.”

You stare, unimpressed. “Sure.”

“So cold, chérie,” Lyney sighs, plucking the stem from your fingers to slot it behind your ear. It seems he likes doing that. “Here I am, trying to get you to warm up to me, and you treat me like this.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll be going back home soon anyway.”

Lyney’s expression shifts into something more unrecognizable, his eyes dipping down to somewhere below your nose. “Oh. Avoiding attachment?”

You nod.

He grins, and he’s still so close. He knows how to entrance his audience, pulling you in until you forget to resist. Always watch the hands; yet Lyney could be digging a dagger to your side at this moment, and you wouldn’t even notice.

“I’m flattered you even want to avoid me because you know you’d get attached,” he purrs, tilting his head. Is Lyney just big on personal space? 

“Don’t assume,” you retort. “I know how guys like you think. Even a magician as great as yourself can’t trick someone who’s already seen through it.”

“It would be easier if it were just a trick, wouldn’t it?” Lyney sighs, much to your confusion. “I take it that someone has told you what this flower means?”

You’ve nearly forgotten all about it. “Yes.” You find yourself unable to look directly into his eyes. “I know.”

But even with that, you can still feel his heavy gaze, pinning you down and threatening the strength of your knees. You suppose it comes with being a performer—watching his audience carefully, pinpointing each micro expression to say the right words.

“There doesn’t have to be any attachments.”

“What are you trying to say right now?”

Lyney’s reaches for your hip, sharing your gaze like he doesn’t know how to do anything else. “That you enamor me. That I am holding back from wanting you. I know you feel the same—you can never hide anything from a magician. But if you’re concerned,” he mumbles, “then this doesn’t have to mean anything. You may call it infatuation.”

You want to laugh. Or maybe you want to cry. Most of all, you want to nod helplessly, wrap your arms around his neck, and give in. It’s hard not to when he looks at you like that. “You want me that bad?”

“I almost want to disagree.”

“Almost?” Lyney gets closer, and you stop him with a palm on his chest. “We’re outside.”

Lyney grins. “Have you forgotten what Fontaine is also known for? No one would bat an eye. Love is in the air, and all that.”

“Absolutely not.”

“So still you’re letting me?”

You laugh this time. Letting him, as if you aren’t the one itching to pull him close and find out what he’s like behind the curtains. “Are you asking me as plain old ‘Lyney?’”

Lyney brightens, clearly pleased there wasn’t a ‘no’. “Yes.”

“No tricks?”

“No tricks. No strings.”

You let him lead you away into some dark alleyway. He kisses you like he was longing to do so all his life. You have only met him that fateful day, not even a week ago. But you claw at him like you get it—like he’s ruined you for anyone else the moment you shared gazes in the Opera House.

Romantic encounters, you quietly recall as Lyney swipes a thumb over your aching bottom lip.

You don’t see Lyney the day after that. And for some reason, it makes the itch worse. (Perhaps it’s because you’ve gotten a taste and can’t get enough.)

It’s mostly your fault, the sudden disappearance—you’ve cooped yourself up in the hotel room, buried your face in pillows, and screamed. You berate yourself for giving in, but another part of you—one that’s louder than any other thought in your head—wants to do it again. Wants to hold his handsome face in your hands and have him kiss you breathless. That was nothing like you had ever felt before.

You groan. It’s another new day. You might as well make some progress with your portfolio.

There’s a Café you’ve been visiting more often than not. Ordering a drink and spending a good chunk of your day sketching the view. Instead, you find yourself staring at Aether, Paimon, and Lynette seated at one of the tables.

Lynette’s eyes flick up to yours as she sips tea. She murmurs something to the other two, and you watch with amusement as Aether and Paimon’s heads snap to face you.

You let your gaze wander, eventually landing on Lyney, who is reciting his order with his charming-act-on smile, who is present because of course he is. You want to turn and run away, but that’d be letting Lyney win, and you’re nothing if not stubborn and prideful.

“Y/N!” Paimon greets once you’re within earshot, kicking her feet happily. “Good morning! What are you doing here?”

“Breakfast,” you reply, waving at them. Aether pulls a chair from the other table and gestures for you to sit. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nope!” Paimon swipes a fork from the table and digs in on the Ile Flottante, leaving nothing for Aether. “Lynette and Lyney told us about another show they’re holding to make up for the previous one.”

“Mouth full,” Aether reminds her, a little too late as the Ile Flottante spews from her mouth.

“Really now? Maybe I can pay properly for a ticket this time,” you laugh, nodding at Lynette. She smiles faintly, hiding it behind the rim of her cup. Lynette sure is the polar opposite of her twin brother.

A shadow looms from behind, the silhouette of a figure with an unmistakable top hat. You tilt your chin and see Lyney peering down at you with a sweet smile. You will yourself to keep your gaze focused on his eyes only and nowhere else below the nose.

Speak of the devil…

“Sweetheart,” Lyney says instead of exchanging pleasantries like a normal person.

“Lyney,” you reply in kind. Then you look away upon realizing that Aether, Paimon, and Lynette had been silently watching the exchange with muted, stunned expressions.

Lyney, holding a tray of drinks and food in both hands, scoots the chair next to yours with his ankle. “I wasn’t informed that Y/N would be joining us,” he says, setting the drinks and plates down like a waiter with a flourish. “You can drink mine. Let me order another.”

You hold onto his wrist as he makes his way back. He turns to you, surprised. “Let me at least pay for my own breakfast.”

Lyney grins, delicately withdrawing from your grip. He places a loud kiss on your hand. “Don’t worry about it.” And then leaves, because he can’t take no for an answer.

“Is it just me,” Paimon starts as you resign yourself to finishing Lyney’s drink (It’s your favorite, the one you always order), “or is Lyney acting weird around Y/N?”

Aether laughs. “There's definitely something going on. Don’t end up staying too long in Fontaine, now. What was it you told us? ‘A day or two’.”

You huff, your face turning unbearably warm. “Shut up, you two. I am here to do research, not to find a summer fling.” You’ve already failed, but they don’t need to know about that.

If you were to touch your lips with your fingers, you’d think of no one else but Lyney’s hands on your hips and his mouth swallowing your words.

Lynette clears her throat, a quiet but noticeable thing. “Don’t be fooled by my brother, Y/N.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m still keeping my safe distance.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean. Don’t be fooled by my brother.” She stares at you from the rim of her cup—something about that has you listening obediently. “No matter what he tells you, he always cares too much. No matter what you may think, he always gets hurt first.”

“That’s not…” You can’t imagine that. From the start, it’s always felt like he was the one who could do what he wanted.

No tricks.

Lynette is his twin, after all. She knows him best.

No strings.

Defeated, you sip on the straw with the same fervor of an aggravated hilichurl, and that’s the end of that.

Conversations during breakfast are much lighter when Lyney returns with a full meal as his treat. Celebration, he says. Celebration for what? Who knows? Lyney winked, but his glance directed to you said enough.

“You say that you don’t want to get attached, but you’re awfully close to the Traveler, of all people,” Lyney says offhandedly once the others have left for their own matters.

You lean against your seat, grinning. “Are you jealous?”

He doesn’t say anything, instead upturning his nose as if scrambling to regain control. You laugh, oddly endeared. Lyney turns his head away, trying to hide the smile that curls his lips upon hearing it.

“Hey,” Lyney says seriously, reaching for your hand. “Where have you been yesterday?”

“Why? Missed me?”

And because he’s Lyney, he takes his time kissing each of your knuckles. It’s more intimate than the whole ‘no strings’ arrangement you agreed on, but you suppose Lyney thinks that any physical attention is free reign. “What would you do if I said yes?”

“You’ll be fine,” you say slyly. “You’ll have to get used to it if you want to risk your heart just to get laid.”

He rolls his eyes, tugging you closer. “I’m not risking anything to get laid. Do you think so lowly of yourself, chérie?”

“Isn’t this all there is to it? Physical attraction,” you ask, genuinely confused.

Lyney blinks. “Of course, but—” His eyes flicker down, and his words trail off.

When you speak, you feel your breath bounce back from his skin—a testament to your proximity. “Lyney,” you whisper. For what? Urging him to continue? Urging him to close this distance? You’re not sure, either.

You have so much to ask. What do you mean? Why can’t you finish your sentence? Why don’t you just kiss me already? But it’s hard to speak; Lyney’s name is all you can think of. 

You whisper his name again. His grip on your hands tightens and loosens, a frustrated frown creeping up his brows.

Your hand shoots out to reach for the back of his head and give in. He flinches for a second before relaxing completely.

His lips almost taste sweeter than his words. Almost as sweet as how he finds purchase on your waist and holds your chin during every kiss.

You pull away to breathe, missing how he leans closer to chase after you and pouting when he can’t. “Yeah. That—That didn’t have to mean anything. I just wanted to know what it felt like again.”

“Yeah.” Lyney licks his lips, his gaze unable to tear away from where yours are swollen. “Yeah, I know. You taste like my drink.”

Really, no one’s surprised you gravitate towards each other again, feeling like you’re soaring and melting into a puddle at the same time. Lyney doesn’t touch you where you both know would cross the line, but he grips near possessively to what he can, as if breathing you in and worshipping your skin.

You know after this, he’d go back on stage, fooling his audience with what’s invisible to the average eye, as if this never happened. You know this because this is your deal: satiate the feverish attraction you have with each other and leave once you’re satisfied. (But you also know that you’ll be thinking of his touch and his lips while you stare at the vase beside your bed.)

Lyney is a magician, first and foremost.

He hooks you in, and keeps all your attention to himself like he’d die without it. Then he disappears with a snap of a finger. He’s finished his trick, leaving you befuddled in your seat with more questions than answers.

As you drift off to sleep, all you can think of is that there are two roses now.

“Brother.”

Lyney looks up from where he’d been entertaining Rosseland, seeing Lynette with a stern face. “What? What happened?”

Her tail flicks. “You said you weren’t going to get attached.”

Lyney exhales softly, his eyes slipping shut. “I’m not.”

Lynette finds herself smiling softly. “I may just be your assistant, but you can’t lie to your own twin.”

He buries his face in his hands. With his sight gone, images of your face while whispering his name flash in his mind. His eyes fly open, mortified, his whole face red. “I don’t know how it happened. I didn’t think it’d be deeper than that.”

He was the magician in this, but it felt as if you were the one who tricked him instead.

It’s been two weeks since you first arrived in Fontaine. By this point, you’ve grown more familiar with its views than your own city. Having Aether, Paimon, Lynette, and even Freminet around doesn't make it any easier for you to feel at home.

And then there’s the Lyney Situation. You meet up most nights, more than that when he’s free from shows. He keeps seeking you out, and you keep letting him in. There was one night where Lyney spent the night instead of heading straight to the door—and those nights turned into two, then three, and then he finds any excuse to keep doing it.

It’s not like you could stop. He told you look for me if you want more, and you always want more, because how could you not? Lyney treats you like he’s never had to take care of anything more precious but still manages to render you breathless like you’ve never experienced thrill the way he gives it to you before.

But you still have to go back home. And Lyney still has his own life, has his secrets. He feels untouchable even when your arms are wrapped around his neck.

No strings attached can still work for summer flings, doesn’t it? And what are summer flings, if not just that?

Lyney hovers above with his hands caging your face. He’s grinning so wide—and you’ve seen all kinds of smiles on him with your time spent together, but it was never this genuine.

“You’re bad for me.” He says it like a confession, a prayer.

You raise an eyebrow. “What did I do to you?”

His hand trails down until he’s rubbing shapes on your hips. “Make me feel like I’m myself whenever I’m with you.”

At your silence, Lyney clears his throat. “But it’s not like that, don’t worry. I just mean—”

And how does that even make sense? He pours his heart, then later reveals it’s nothing but a decoy to keep this facade realistic.

“Oh,” you say.

That was the final act you’d been waiting for. The final trick—the farewell show.

And so you pack your bags—shoved your sketchbook back inside, face forward, and promise not to look back. Leaving Sumeru hasn’t even been this hard.

Aether and Paimon shouldn’t be surprised if they find you missing; they’d been the first to know that your stay in Fontaine isn’t meant to last forever. And you’ve warned Lyney about this. Avoiding attachments? It felt more like running away from your problem.

Lyney is a busy man on his own; you’re nothing but some architect from a different region who happened to get caught up with him at the right time.

You sigh and call for the aquabus.

A hand clasps around your wrist, pulling you to collide against a familiar chest. Lyney’s eyes are wide, almost insane. Sweat clings to his forehead, and his breath comes in frantic pants.

“W-What—”

Lyney’s eyes search your face. Or maybe it’s him trying to convince himself that you’re right there, in front of him. “You didn’t even tell me.”

“I—I’m sorry—”

“Were you just going to leave like that? Don’t you think I at least deserve a farewell?”

“Lyney, I’m sorry. I know, that was stupid.” You haven’t seen him with an expression like this before—so raw and broken, begging to be glued together with your hands. “I didn’t want to formally say goodbye because I knew I'd want to stay.”

“That’s stupid,” he repeats in agreement.

You breathe shakily, eyes scanning the stunned crowd. What’s The Great Magician Lyney doing here? Holding some stranger in his arms? That must be what they’re thinking.

“How did you even know I was leaving?”

Lyney’s eyes cut down to his hand, gripping a crushed rose. “I was paying a visit to an empty room.” Embarrassed, he tries to toss it away, but you take it before he can.

You wordlessly place it in its home: the spot behind your ears. You don’t tell him that the two other roses he gave you serve as bookmarks in the sketchbook you’ve used all up in Fontaine. Where you’ve drawn his face more often than not.

Lyney groans in frustration, his hands curling around your waist. “Is staying so bad?”

“It’s not like I’m leaving forever.”

And then you notice Lyney’s hands. They’re shaking uncontrollably, not unlike how it did during that incident—and with it came the frantic exhales, as if natural human breathing alone is already hard enough for him.

“Oh, Lyney,” you say softly. You drop your bags and embrace him fully.

He doesn’t hesitate in pulling you closer, burying his face on your neck. “Don’t—don’t,” he gasps, “don’t just try to leave like that.”

It’s hard seeing Lyney like this. He’s usually so composed and easy-going. He gulps in a deep breath, and his voice cracks as he calls for you. This must be something out of his control—something deeper than the back of his stage.

“Y/N,” he whispers.

“Lyney,” you call back as gently.

He swallows your surprised noise with his mouth, moving against you like you’re his last meal on Teyvat. He’s still shaking, but it has subsided the longer you stay pressed against each other. You’re not sure if it’s his Pyro vision or if it’s your skin burning at the thought of Lyney’s skin against yours. It’s searing.

This is different from the last kisses you shared.

Passion, you think dizzily, breathless from his hunger. This is passion.

“What was that for?” you ask, embarrassingly winded.

Lyney brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. He looks sad. As though he only comes alive when you’re with him. “A kiss to make up for your absence in the following weeks.”

“I can always come back,” you say. “No, I will come back. I promise. I just need to get home for a bit.”

“Okay.” Lyney nods, exhaling heavily. “Yeah. I know, I understand. Once you come back, come straight to me, alright?”

“Of course.” You lean in to kiss his cheek. You’ve never done it before because it always came off too intimate. And judging by the blush that explodes on his face, he thinks the same.

It all doesn’t matter. The line has been crossed days ago; you’ve just been turning away from seeing it.

He kisses you again. Then again. “Have a safe trip,” he says in between kisses. “I almost wish you commissioned me to escort you, regardless of the price.”

“What, you want 500,00?” The aquabus has arrived; Lyney grips you a little tighter, childishly willing himself not to see it.

“500,000 kisses, and more.” Lyney rests his forehead against yours, his captivating eyes keeping you still, the way it always does. “But you can give me that when you come back.”

( Before they were taken away from the stage for an investigation, Lynette comes up to her brother and asks, “What happened back there, Lyney? I thought you were about to twist your own fingers.”

He is unsure how to tell his sister that he saw your awed expression and nearly lost his wits.

“It was nothing,” Lyney admits, his face growing hot at recalling his slip-up. 

It wasn’t out of embarrassment, no—not when the memory of your wide-eyed beaming expression and how his mind blanked along with the skip of his heart plagued his mind.

“It was nothing,” he repeats numbly. It’s not. It was the start of something. )

a/n ok just a quick rant this fic BROKE ME. it was like every other day i hated then loved writing this fic. im not used to writing fics this long so pacing is not my forte </3 but i just feel proud of myself for finishing this so HOPE U LIKED IT. if ure still reading until here ily ❤️

more a/n two lyney fics and two kissing scenes. i can’t even lie to myself. everyone can tell.

more more a/n it was halfway through writing this fic that i rewatched the magic show and only noticed lyneys hands were shaking and i GOT SO SAD OMF 😭😭😭😭

a beating heart

🎱 OTHER GIRL

ft. enha niki ✷ fluff wc. 291 warning. cussing © atrirose saw this on tiktok and i had to do this :)

niki had you snuggled up with him on his unusually big sofa, after you took a shower his warmth is all you needed. he was on his phone watching tiktok while you lay, nose buried in his chest.

if you could you would live in his skin at this point “hey you remember how much of a bitch this guy was in the show? look at how people are making edits of him just because he is hot” a edit of a man you have never seen in your life was shoved into your face “riki i have no idea who this man is”

niki gets up as he sat you upright “you don’t know him? we watched this show together yn! come on dude” he shows you the edit again as you try to remember watching the show with him “nuh uh”

“what do you mean by ‘nuh uh’, yn we watched this to-” he watched as you face turned from confusion to a smug grin “oh my god not again, babe-”

“must have been with your other girlfriend” bam works like a charm, he falls back on the sofa groaning like you just punched his guts “babe how many times do i have to say this you are my only girl” looks at you with the most adorable pout ever “really because it looks to me-” tackles before you can speak “shut up yn shut up shut up, im not listening mhm” kisses you to prevent you from speaking again as you giggle. you squirm as he put his cold hands ur waist “yup that’s what you get, cold hands” niki chuckles as he kisses you more.

“come to think of it i do remember that guy”

“seriously yn”

𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐫... (𝟏𝟖+)| 𝐁𝐋𝐋𝐊

ft. Alexis Ness

∗  ˖࣪ ໒꒱  ˚₊· synopsis: Alexis wanted you to be meaner, so you gave him your meaner.

･ﾟﾟ･｡　wc:1,2 k + warnings- mdni, nsfw content, f!reader, femdom!reader/sub!alexis, pro player(20+), 20+ characters, petnames(good boy), nipple play (m! receiving), friends w benefits relationship, cum-eating, slight edging, dry nursing.

----------------------------- ☆ -----------------------------

“Can you be meaner…. like Kaiser?” That question took you by surprise. Alexis’ figure stood in front of you; expectant eyes, biting his mouth and clenched hands at his side.

You raised an eyebrow, staring at the man still waiting for the answer. It wasn’t strange for Alexis to come and ask you for things since the three of you had a ‘friends with benefits’ situation, but something inside of you snapped when compared to Michael.

Michael was him and you were you, much worse if you wanted to.

“Like Micha or like... me?” You uncrossed your legs and crossed your arms below your breasts, pressing them together and Alexis swallowed dryly, his eyes glued to your breasts.

“…Like you, how?” He asked, and you huffed a laugh, tapping a hand on your legs for Alexis to sit down.

It was all it took for you to start with a calm kiss. Pulling his lower lip and hands moving up into his shirt, stopping as it reached his neck, showing his nipples, and you flicked them.

It didn’t last long and Alexis squirmed in your lap, hands clasped in your hair as your mouth sucked on his left nipple willingly and his right was pinched between your fingers.

Alexis’s voice came out muffled. He was probably biting his mouth, and you didn’t like silent men.

“A-ah!” You smiled against his body, still focused on his nipple, now circling with your tongue and scratching the other. “Please...”

You let go of the nipple, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the hard bud, glistening red in saliva. “Eh, please, what?” You used both hands to stimulate his nipples, making him dangle his head back, moaning.

You did the same thing to the other nipple, making it hard from so much biting, sucking and licking, amused by Alexis’ grunts, stirring in your lap.

Alexis’ trembling hands wrapped around your strands and pulled, trying to pull your head away from his body, but his waist swayed against your belly and breasts, the marked bulge in his shorts showing that he didn’t want to stop.

“Please! Please!” Alexis’ sobs competed with moans and gasps each time you pulled his nipples with your teeth and went back to sucking and licking, giving attention to both of them, making Alexis gasp and bounce into your lap.

“I can’t take it anymore... Oh! Please!”

At some point, he leaned back, and you got your nails on his back, holding him in place, not stopping to play with him.

It had been a while since you’d been in this and Alexis was just sobbing, a few tears falling down his face, but it didn’t stop you from leaving his nipples raw flesh, smeared with saliva and aching from the attention.

You were sure they ached and burned just from the way Alexis shuddered, lost in pleasure and pain, occasionally pushing his waist against your body. His cock hurt too; hard and bound by his clothes, his tip a strong red expelling thick pre-cum and its shaft throbbing, begging for attention. You dug your nails into his backs, eyes rolling in pleasure as you imagined the scene.

Alexis grumbled, jerking his waist as he felt your hand groping his bulge, your mouth still glued to a nipple.

“This right here is begging for attention...” You blew a laugh against his chest and tightened his dick print, making him shrink in pain. “Do you want attention here, too?”

“Y-Ah!... Oh! Yes! Yes!” Alexis breathed heavily, moaning with each squeeze you gave, feeling his cock throb.

You slid your hands down his thick thighs and effortlessly lifted him up, laying him on the nearest surface. Alexis could be so weightless sometimes and you loved it.

You pushed away the strands stuck to his forehead with sweat, placing a little kiss on his red cheeks, wet with tears. The magenta eyes glowing, red face, the mouth swollen, heavy breath, and the shirt up to his neck, showing the white skin with the marks you left on the red-glowing nipples.

Oh, Alexis was so cute when broken by you, or even by Michael.

You made room in the middle of his legs, rubbing your belly against his bulge, watching him close his eyes and moan.

“You’re so hard, Ness...” You ran your hands up his legs, your nails following in a line of goosebumps as you pressed against him. “I bet you can cum without touch.”

Alexis opened his eyes; the beautiful hooded eyes begging you not to torture him anymore. He opened his mouth and let out a strangled moan as you pressed your fingers into his hard, aching nipples.

“What should I do, Alexis?” You whispered against his ear, nibbling on his lobe. “Should I be kind like me or mean like Micha?”

He shuddered, his waist lifting and his mouth a little scream with your knee pressing against his cock.

“Huh?” You kissed his neck, jaw, cheek, nose, and lips, biting until he grumbled in pain. “Tell me, Alexis.”

You were usually nice to Alexis and mean to Michael, especially when he was being a brat. But being compared or asked to be like Michael was something that made the worst of you awaken.

“Gentle! Gentle! Please, y/n! Please!” Alexis’ raspy, desperate voice made you smile, resting your head on his pectoral and stopping the movements of your knee.

“Yes, maybe I’ll.” You kissed him, sticking your tongue in rudely while pinching his nipples and back rubbing your knee on his cock. Alexis grumbled against your mouth, kissing you just as hard, but the hot tears fell as he squirmed against your body.

He asked you to be mean, so that’s what you would give him.

The wet sound of the kiss, the hot, heavy breaths, the noise of the friction of your bodies and the muffled noises of Alexis, who grabbed your arms but didn’t pull away from his sensitive nipples and his waist rolled against your knee.

The position was uncomfortable for you; it was better to stand in the middle of his legs, hands pulling him closer by his tights, gluing his cock with your pelvic bone and going back to sucking his nipples like you were a big hungry baby.

It was too much sensation for Alexis’ sensitive body that reacted on instinct, locking his legs around your waist and rolling against you.

You smiled against his mouth and pushed against his waist, simulating thrusts, making him gasp and squint.

Alexis was a great submissive, breedable good boy, and like the good boy he was, it didn’t take long to cum in his pants, moaning loudly against your puffy lips.

“Good boy.”

You gave a little kiss and pulled away from him, watching him shiver all over and his gaze lost in pleasure. You lowered his pants, showing off the white sticky cum and ran your hand over his cock, wiping the cum as best you could and taking it to your mouth, licking your fingers as you stared into the magenta eyes glued to you.

“I hope you liked my meaner, Ness.” You said, putting his clothes in place and leaving him alone, calming down from the intense orgasm your meaner self gave him.

----------------------------- ☆ -----------------------------

© iwashie 2023, please do not translate, modify or republish my works