#lyney is growing on me too but no… i can’t

[the-travelling-witch]

i need to stay strong, i’m not pulling for wrio just because he’s hot… and has handcuffs…

[mondaymelon]

— 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮! ♡

໒꒱ || :feat~ lyney, freminet, wriothesley, neuvillette x gn!reader:

໒꒱ || cw: fluff <3 maybe a lil ooc since i havent done the fontaine quests yet, wrio is whipped !!

⤷ giving your fontaine boyfriend flowers ♡

“Oh? For me?”

LYNEY’s expression is one of delight as he holds the bouquet of roses you’ve gifted him, smiling gratefully. The shining excitement in his vibrant eyes, however, doesn’t quite translate into how ecstatic he really is… because usually, he’s not used to being on the receiving end of affection, since the charmingly flirty magician is constantly the one to make you glow red.

“They reminded me of you…” You laugh sheepishly, watching his grin only grow.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you, love.” He moves the flowers to one hand as the other finds its way resting on the small of your back, giving you something to lean on as he moves forward and gives you a quick peck on your cheek, light and fleeting. “So I’ll show you my thanks, hm?” His voice is low as he stares at you, something earnest in his gaze as his violet irises twinkle. You nod, slowly, unsure of what he implies, but you know him well enough to not be startled as he swiftly moves forward and meets his lips to yours. You can feel his warmth… is it because he’s a pyro user? It’s hard to think about anything, especially when you’re pressed up against him like this, mind blank as his mouth moves against yours.

He speaks as he pulls away with a slight smile, and your hand instinctively latches onto the hem of his coat. “Not enough for you?” You can hear the smirk in his tone. “C’mon now, we can’t be too greedy, love~”

“What? No, I just-!” You hastily release your grasp on his clothes, face growing hot. “Lyney, you know I didn’t mean it like that!”

“I know, I know, it’s just so fun to tease you, y’know?” He lets out a laugh at your pouting expression. “I can’t help it, really.”

There’s no winning against this man. “Hah… alright, alright…” You glance up in surprise as Lyney gently moves you out of his arms and starts to stand up.

“Aw, don’t look so sad, I just have something for you too! Surely one kiss or two isn’t enough to repay the gift you’ve given me?” He smiles as he reaches for his signature hat, which dangles on the coat rack. You watch in awe. How come his every movement is still so graceful?

“Lyney, I don’t need repaym-” You’re cut off as the man flourishes his arms - You blink, and all of a sudden there’s a bouquet of his own in his hands, splendid yellow roses, fully in bloom. “Wh-”

“Tada!” He bows, looking pleased with himself as he stares at the flowers in your arms, then up at you. “Now we match~” He holds up his own bouquet with a beam.

“W-When did you-”

“Magic.”

“So you can create just about everything with magic, huh…” You stare at the roses in silent wonder.

“Ah ah, not everything!” Lyney bounces on his feet, watching the look of curiosity on your face with an air of amusement. One of his sparkling eyes closes in a wink.

“No magic could ever conjure up something as limitless as my love for you!” ♡

“H-Huh? Flowers? For… me?”

FREMINET’s eyes are wide as he hesitantly holds the flowers in his hands, looking rather anxious. “But… why?” The poor male glances from the roses in his hands back to your face nervously, studying your features. “Y-You should’ve told me so that I would’ve had flowers for you too…!”

“There’s no need for you to give me a gift, Min. I just got you a bouquet because I felt like it, no reason.” You beam at him as his face only grows redder. “There’s really no need to get embarrassed!”

“Ah… but I feel bad…” He shakes his head, lightly colored hair swaying with his movements. You can hear him mumble under his breath, quietly to himself: “...omorrow…ing…”

“What was that?” You blink at him, confused. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“N-Nothing! Uhm… do you want to go somewhere today? You’ve put me in a good mood, so…” He smiles softly, and the air around him seems to glow with the sheer brilliance of it. You match his smile with one of your own, watching as he takes the flowers out of the bouquet and arranges them into an intricately decorated vase, half-filled with water. Gazing at him is like observing a masterpiece at work, although you know far too well that the male’s job certainly has nothing to with that of a florist, yet the movement of his skillful hands captures your attention anyhow.

“Is something wrong? You’ve been looking at me for quite a while… is there something on my face?” Upon noticing how your eyes are fixated on him, he flinches, ears flaring red. 

“No, you just look pretty today. You look pretty every day, Min.” It’s hard to restrain your laughter as you watch Freminet bury his face in his hands, his red ears visible from behind his hair. 

“Don’t tease me…!”

“But it’s true.”

“D-Do you want to go to town or not…?” He shifts a finger, hesitantly peeking an eye out between them. “We can go get something to eat… I’ll pay, but you’ll have to order…” His usual habits were the same as always, how he’d stutter over his words when faced with anyone except his siblings… and of course, you.

“That sounds great, Min. Come on, let’s go!”

The next morning, a soft knock jolts you awake, three light raps hitting the wood before the sound of footsteps quickly retreated away. You manage to crawl out of bed and open the door, only to be startled as a large bouquet - larger than the one you had gifted him - sat on your doorstep, mixed with Fontaine classics and even Romaritime flowers… had he dived underwater to pick these for you? Every petal was perfect, and the flowers were all fully in bloom, despite being out of water. What kind of magic was this?

A cream-colored card catches your attention, leaning against the bouquet. On it are finely crafted words, written in Freminet’s familiar small script:

“Thank you, love.” ♡

“Hm? What’s the occasion?”

WRIOTHESLEY’s usual professionalism fades as his chest tightens with a giddy sensation. He had been having a rather tedious afternoon in the Fortress of Meropide - time passed all too slowly whenever you weren’t present - but now that you were here, he knew his minutes with you were already slipping away like sand through his fingers, no matter how tightly or carefully he cupped the grains in his hands. You were a free soul, a rather unfitting lover for his occupation, coming and going like the wind. And while your presence may be as fleeting as the gale, at least the breeze you brought would leave in him a warm sensation. “I wasn’t aware you’d be visiting today.”

“I figured I might as well surprise you! Besides, you always come home with a scowl on your face, so I was just making sure you weren’t having a hard time here,” you smile at him, an expression that causes his heart to stutter. It takes him all he’s got in him to at least somewhat maintain his professional expression, knowing full well that if anyone else saw him at the moment, they would certainly be in for a shock. Your words are entertaining. Him? Having a hard time? That had long dissipated the moment you stepped foot into the building.

“Were you worried about me? I’m okay, so don’t concern yourself over such trivial matters.” Wriothesley lightly shakes his head. For someone as beautifully naive as you to exist in this world, he knew full well that your future would not be free of adversaries. He supposed that wasn’t exactly a problem, though. The male had already promised himself that he’d dispose of them all when you weren’t looking.

Your face scrunches up like you’ve eaten something bad. “Trivial?” you echo, your tone expressing your annoyance. “Wrio, how could you say that? Of course I should be worried about you, silly! What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t?”

Ah, there you go again. Every time you refer to yourself by that title, he swears he can feel his heart skip a beat, the only evidence of his flusteredness is the burning of red dusting his ears. He had been refraining from holding you until he had gotten back home, but, naturally, you had broken his final sense of reason. You blink, and there he is, pressed up against you with both of his arms wrapped around your waist, your back leaning against his chest. He’s warm, startingly so despite him being the bearer of a Cryo vision, and you can hear the rapid thrum of his heartbeat.

“You’re cold,” he remarks offhandedly, pressing a kiss into your nape, then another.

“You’re warm,” you respond, smiling, only to hear the drumming of his heart quicken.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” Wriothesley’s face is flushed, just the tiniest bit, and once you blink, you could’ve sworn that it was never there.

“Do I?” You grin up at him cheekily. “Why don’t you care to elaborate?”

“Fuck, darling… you can’t keep doing this to me. I don’t think my heart will be able to take much more of this.” ♡

“They’re beautiful.”

NEUVILLETTE's fingers graze a petal and trace its outermost edge, studying the bouquet with a smile. The blooming assortment lays perfectly balanced in his hands as he cradles them gently. “Thank you, dearest.” His smile is serene, like an untouched expanse of water. Smooth, and glimmering, and when you lean over to peer into it, you can see your clear reflection staring up at you. His eyes mirrored it, pure and unsullied. His beauty stuns you for a moment. He had always been a man with an air of elegance, his magnificence simply inhumane, and it was likely a stroke of luck that Neuvillette had ever taken you as his partner.

Of course, those were merely your thoughts on the matter. His did not match your sentiment, not even in the slightest. For in his mind, he was the one who didn’t deserve you. No, it would be simply unreasonable to compare him to something as perfect as water. You were the only one in his eyes who deserved such a title. And he was the Romaritime flower, only able to thrive in your presence.

“You like them?” He loathes the surprise in your voice. Indubitably, he did. There was no other option. It was something that you had gifted him, and that enough made its value clear.

“Certainly,” his eyes are warm. “I will treasure everything and anything you bestow upon me.”

“Vil, there’s no need to go that far…” you laugh sheepishly, only for the sound to slowly cease as you realize he isn’t jesting. “...Why?”

His soft laughter fills the silence. “I love you. Have I not made that apparent?”

“Yes, but there’s certainly no need for-”

“Shh.” This interaction has made something painfully clear for the man. Perhaps he hasn’t been showing you enough affection? He is a busy man, but he always heads home, heads to you whenever he has a second to breathe. Yes, only in your arms would he finally feel content. Only with your fingers carding through his hair, whispering his name with a smile and closed eyes, only then. You knew how much he yearned for you, right? 

If not… well, that could be changed.

“You’ve given me such a precious gift, so I should show my thanks out of courtesy.” Wrapping his arms around your smaller frame and leaning your head against his chest, to hide the slightest flush on his cheeks. “Ah, but it should be a fair trade.” You tilt your head at his words, confused.

“Only one kiss won’t be justified, hm?” ♡

(a/n) help why do i actually like wriothesley's part this isn't supposed to happen ?! anyways yeah it was about time i wrote for fontaine men

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123

[sixosix]

can you do an aether x reader lil one shot please!!! my baby gets no love ;( I'm fine with any story or plot but maybe one where they've been travel buddies for a while and his feelings have just been bottled up over time and he just explodes in to a confession and then some cute fluff from there!!!!!!

a/n wc 1.6k there are tears in my eyes as i write this i love aether sonmuch. also sorry if this is all over the place i was trying so hard not to turn it into another 10k word fic…. ft. lyney

aether doesn’t vividly recall the moment his feelings blossomed. there was no pinpointed moment, only all of it growing restless inside him.

he likes to keep his team to four people maximum, oftentimes none at all—just him and paimon to worry about as they move from region to region, friends made yet no proper strings attached. it’s for everyone’s sake, as aether doesn’t plan on staying too long in one place. that’s how it should’ve been.

you appeared one day, demanding to take you in his team. just for liyue and then you can separate ways, you said.

“i’m visiting my awfully quiet lover to break his silence. i need to figure out why i’ve stopped receiving letters,” you explained, blinding him with your bigger-than-life personality.

and because aether is a weak, weak man to people who don’t know how to back down, he agreed, albeit hesitantly. “alright,” he said in defeat. “just liyue?”

“just liyue,” you affirmed, beaming as he’s accepted you probably easier than you expected.

just liyue is a lie, and he should’ve known it the moment he had to confirm it. he didn’t bother with formal introductions and keeping conversations, knowing he wouldn’t see you again anyway. it didn’t help that paimon adores you, expressing her loud disappointment when you have to part ways with them.

paimon floated lower than usual. aether sighed. “should’ve known you’d grow to love someone who spoils you with sweet madame more than me.”

“hmph! y/n’s nicer to paimon than you!”

but he does see you again some time later, facing a large tree, kicking it out of frustration. it’s pouring heavily; your clothes are soaked.

“am i scary?” you asked when aether and paimon approached you, staring ahead, fists trembling.

“what’s wrong?! did something bad happen?” paimon fluttered around you nervously, unsure if she could touch you.

“he’s not dead, at least,” you said bitterly. “just too cowardly to tell me that he doesn’t love me anymore. i suppose it was better breaking up face-to-face than through letters.” you sighed bitterly, shoulders hiked up to your ears as a fresh wave of quiet tears washed over you, muted by the rain. “this is embarrassing, getting dumped because i was too much.”

“it’s not. you came all the way from mondstadt just to see him. didn’t he at least care about that?” aether asked, which might’ve just been his longest sentence yet. why were you out here soaking? if it were him, he wouldn’t have been so rude to leave you astray during a thunderstorm.

“i can’t force him, if he doesn’t want to see me. i’ll be alright, i promise.” you rest your forehead against the bark of the tree, water sliding off your cheeks—aether isn’t sure if it’s the rain or your tears.

he understands, possibly more than anyone.

and aether—still a weak, weak man when it came to people breaking down in front of him, knowing what it’s like to lose someone so dear to you—gently says, “xiangling told us there’s an event holding place here later. you’re coming with us.”

just liyue was already a warning in itself that it would never be just as that.

you weave yourself in his life as if you were always there, fitting in like you haven’t met him and paimon just a few days ago. he tries to convince himself that he’s doing this to cheer you up, but you’ve been making him smile more than they do to you.

he would turn to his side and see you feeding him a chicken-mushroom skewer after a short battle, insisting even when aether says he’s not as injured as you may think. he would turn to his side and see you and paimon laughing over something he missed and find himself grinning as well.

he would turn to his side when you tug on his sleeve, shyly asking if he’s willing to take you to inazuma as well because you didn’t want to stay in liyue if they weren’t here anymore.

“sure,” aether would say. he’s a weak man, and you were holding on to his cape, looking so adorable that aether wanted to melt on the spot. but that’s a normal reaction to cute things, probably.

taking you to inazuma turns into bringing you along to sumeru, then eventually fontaine, until everyone is convinced you’re a staple in aether’s adventures: aether, paimon, and y/n.

this is what it’s like to have a good team, aether persuades himself. a good team, a useful asset, aether reminds himself sternly as you slice a ruin cruiser off of existence with fierce anger in your eyes and a stick of tricolor dango in your mouth. you wave at him after, beaming, and his heart does something weird.

and now, when some of his friends suggest that he lays you off even just for a day so he can have three other people who work together seamlessly with him, he dismisses it quickly—without thinking. he already works best with you by his side. if they want to come along with him, they have to accept they’re coming along with you just as well.

“thanks for letting me join you,” you whisper one night, lying on the grass and watching the stars with him. you turn your head and meet his eyes, smiling softly.

“of course,” aether says. of course, because now he can’t imagine what it’s like to not have you with him. “i’m the only one who can handle how scary you are.”

you scoff, gently punching his arm as he laughs. “shut up, idiot. you know what i mean.”

i know, aether wants to say. but would that be too much? aether doesn’t want you to think he’s trying to replace someone important in your life this quickly.

you are scary. you’re terrifying him with all these unwanted feelings he doesn’t know what to do with. but aether wasn’t lying, either—he can handle fear just as well.

and now, as aether watches lyney grin and kiss the back of your palm, aether’s chest burns with something unpleasant, sitting in his stomach and urging him to take action. a rock under his shoe. he does not like it, not one bit.

“uhh,” paimon shifts nervously mid-air. “paimon thinks you should stop glaring daggers into lyney before he notices.”

“glaring daggers? i’m not glaring daggers,” aether hisses. his fingers are starting to ache with how painfully he’s clutching his sword. “no daggers here…” he curses as he watches you grow increasingly flustered.

the sight startles him. not your expression, not lyney’s clear provocation, but aether’s stance towards it.

“i thought we’re friends with lyney again?” paimon asks, terribly confused.

“the best of friends,” aether says, marching over to the scene. paimon makes a disbelieving noise.

lyney smirks knowingly as aether gently tugs on your arm. “oh,” lyney says, all sly, more of a fox than a cat, “i didn’t know you were already spoken for. i do apologize for the misunderstanding.”

you glance between an amused lyney and an irked aether, dazed. “i’m not…?”

“your jealous boyfriend says otherwise,” lyney snorts as aether bristles.

aether glares heatedly at lyney, even as the latter backs away with a smug grin. “y/n, let’s go. there’s nothing else to do here.” he’s being rude. he doesn’t care. his mind is blank—or maybe it’s running miles per minute, and he struggles to keep up.

and because you always listen to aether, you let him drag you off, nearly failing to wave goodbye to a chuckling lyney. lyney calls for paimon, distracting her as aether continues walking away from the scene.

you turn to aether, barely able to keep up with his hurried steps. “whoa, whoa, hey, aether—aether, are you okay? your face is so red.” you touch his cheek, and he crumbles. “aether.”

he halts, frowning at the ground. frustrated.

���aether, is there something wrong?”

that’s the thing. aether doesn’t know what’s wrong. he was content with watching you from afar—content with your stars slowly aligning with his as he stands back and watches it happen. he was content with not doing anything about it. but not doing anything about it would mean everyone else thinks you haven’t got aether wrapped around your finger.

“sorry,” aether says. to the painful beating of his heart, restless with unexplained fury. “i didn’t—”

“…idiot.” you always tell him that. you’re the only one who calls him that, but he knows that were they to try, he wouldn’t let it slide so easily. “it’s okay to admit you’re jealous. it’s cute.”

it is not lyney’s flirtations that tip aether over; it’s the sweet smile you give him, the gentleness of your gaze, and your face so close to aether’s that you and him share the same breath. what tips him over is all of it crashing down on him, as daunting as a fight, as abrupt as the beat of his heart:

oh. oh. is that it?

aether doesn’t vividly recall the moment you wormed your way in. maybe it was the moment you jumped down from a tree branch and scared the wits out of paimon, only to demand nervously he take you. maybe it was the moment he softens when your shoulders shake and rain pours relentlessly overhead. maybe it was the stab of jealousy seeing someone else try to steal you away from him when you so obviously belong to him as he belongs to you.

it doesn’t matter.

“i want you,” aether says, then blinks when you do a startled take. “no—no. i mean. i… like you. and i want you to stay. here. not with them. not anyone else.”

“stay right in front of you?”

“in front, beside—doesn’t matter.” aether grows weak, limp as he presses his forehead against yours. “i just want you.”

“okay,” you smile, tipping your chin to kiss his cheek. his heart soars. “that’s all i needed to hear.”

[knavesflames]

I have this HC that Arlecchino cannot fucking cook, that she’s never bothered to learn, or just simply is not gifted in the kitchen😭 so have some Arlecchino that made me giggle. It’s very short and messy but I had to get it out of my drafts😭😭 ALSO THIS PICTURE MAKES ME SCREAM

Arlecchino trying to cook for you for your anniversary but failing miserably (arlie I love you but what the fuck is that signature dish). She’s so smart but so dumb sometimes, “it said a teaspoon of salt but they were in the dishwasher so I used a bowl instead”, or “it was pink so I kept cooking it and now it’s black????” While you try to keep your giggle in as you explain that it’s supposed to be pink. And how patient she is usually with other people, especially her children, but she uses her pyro when the potatoes aren’t finished when they’re ‘supposed’ to be, rendering them inedible. And of course, she doesn’t understand a thing, but she’s too proud to ask. So when you do finally get a dinner that tastes good, you can’t help but notice the two small cat shaped carrots, and a penguin shaped piece of chicken, a tiny indicator that it was in fact, not Arlecchino who made the dinner, but instead commanded the twins and Freminet to make it instead.

“You must make a dinner for two. Chicken, potatoes, the fancy kind, and those roasted carrots she loves. And for the love of the Tsaritsa, do not add seasonings. Salt and pepper is fine.”

“Why, Father?”

“Hush, Freminet. Father cannot cook.” Lyney gives Freminet a small kick.

“I did not tell you to question me. I can cook, I simply do not have the time.”

But everyone with a brain knows she can’t, that she’s a woman of many talents, but being in the kitchen is not one of them. Walking away only to have her cheeks flush as she hears the children snickering lovingly. Nobody says a word when she shows up to Fontaine’s cooking lessons the next month for fear of receiving her wrath, and when she finally presents you with a clumsy mess of a meal, and it actually tastes decent, you feel your heart swell.

“You’ve improved, Arlie.”

“Mm.” She grumbles, turning away to hide the small smile that grows on her face.

[sungie]

LYNEY X READER : FIREWORKS BY SEA

a shallow wave ripples over your shoes. you’re wearing wet socks and denim rolled up to your knees in mid july.

it smells like salt—and maybe smoke if you think too hard—and in the back of your ear, lyney’s teasing that his magic tricks are better than this spectacle by far.

after all, he’d give you your own fireworks over the sea any day. if you’d only just say you love him. 

to you, lyney’s predictable. he's always splashing water onto you, then darting just out of reach. but you know exactly where he is. 

“i told you i’m not gonna,” you say.

those aren’t quite the words he wants—but he’s laughing anyway as you grab him by the wrist and throw him into the wave carving into the shore. your eyes never leave the horizon.

fireworks burst over the water. quiet inhale. a delayed boom reverberates through your chest. 

you don’t need visual confirmation to know lyney’s eyes dance with amusement. and there’s always something else—at least, he’s always been like that with you—something else within his eyes that pleads for you to look, glance over, dive head over heels into some murky space neither of you knows where. 

would you? you don’t like to think about it. you never do. 

you can sense lyney smiling to himself in mirth as he shakes his head, wringing out the hem of his shirt. it’ll dry stiff and salty in a half-hour. “you’re impossible. why won’t you look at me?” 

“i don’t know what you mean.” you say it with a bright smile. and there’s a lingering taste of melon syrup when you run your tongue along your teeth. lies like melon syrup. sticky melon shaved ice. a little crunchy. 

and well, you know exactly what he means. your teeth feel a little cold if you think about it. 

a singular firework shoots up—at this point it looks more like a shooting star. like a flying fish. you’d wish on it if you had something you wanted. in the back of your mind you know lyney will, maybe for something like, love me love me love me. 

you hold your breath as you wait for the crash. it doesn’t explode. rather showers into gold and falls into the sea. fish flopping back into water. and maybe that’s a little fitting, for the two of you. a love that can be soft. a love, maybe not all there. 

“okay. but you know i’d do it,” lyney says. right now, he’s not really talking about the eye contact. more so something the two of you’ve been dancing around for years.

this firework fades out behind a cloud of smoke. you think the boat should stop sending out low fireworks. higher ones are better.

and it hurts to feel lyney’s eyes trained on yours. he’s not looking at the sky where it matters. “if you asked me to,” lyney continues, his voice growing firm, “i’d be yours forever.” 

when he says it again, his eyes feel soft. “so ask me.” 

you're not looking. but you know exactly how he looks. you feel it. you hate when he gets like this. it makes your heart wince. 

“i’ll do it,” is what you decide on. and you think it’s a little cruel, the way lyney brightens at your words. “but you know you can’t.”

lyney laughs. maybe he’s a little stung by the implication—you remember him poking at washed up sea jellies with sticks. or maybe it’s all in your head. with him, you can never tell.

“maybe not,” he says. and he’s probably shrugging, that little half-shoulder one he does. with that loose grin tugging at his lips. the one that makes his eyes glow warm. “but you never know.”

a burst of color saves you from response. the ship shoots up firework after firework. the dark sea glows red. illuminates the black waters. 

like, sure. you’d let lyney love you. 

because he likes to say things like that. after all, you love that. things like, you’re not like anyone i’ve ever met. i’ll choose you forever. i’ll be sad when you leave fontaine. when are you leaving? well, it doesn’t matter. i’ll visit you wherever home is. 

but that’s where it gets tricky. because lyney also likes to fall out of love whenever he feels like it. and whenever he feels like it is pretty damn often. 

there’s a flash of color. you sense it before it happens. he’s dragging you by the hand, pulling you forward into the shallow wave starting to recede into the sea.

boom, boom, boom—and you can feel it in the sand sinking beneath your feet. in your chest when you point to an anemo shaped firework and lyney is gazing at you with a bemused look on his face, nodding along like you’ve just done something adorable. in your heart when he wraps his arms around your shoulders and half-lifts you as another wave slowly swallows the shore.

“put me down,” you laugh, half screeching as you swat at his shoulder. 

lyney obliges for a quick second, allowing your untied shoe-laces to dip into the water pooling across the sand. the dampness of your socks isn’t so bad. more refreshing. “if you say so.”

“no don’t you dare—“

he’s quick to laugh, a teasing smile twisting at his eyes. “then hold on to me like you mean it.” lyney smiles most with his eyes, is what you think. and you’re looking at him now, looking at him with wide eyes and lips twisted into a grin. 

you always thought it’d be nice to make out beneath the fireworks. something casual. a quick kiss and dip. he’d be a nice person to make out with. you wouldn’t mind. 

instead, you’re feeling a little exposed beneath the pyrotechnics—a little like you’re offering lyney a feel of your heart as you hang your arms loosely over his shoulders.

“that’s not like you mean it,” lyney says, and his voice is quietly amused. “you know, for being so straightforward all the time, you’re not so honest.”

“do you want me to be?” you say, and you’re gazing at him with an amused look on your face. “you’ll freak out. you’re not that honest either.”  

lyney looks the most serious he’s ever been. “you know why. you’ll get bored.” 

“not if it’s you.” it’s more of an inside joke between the two of you. “you never bore me.” 

you’re interrupted by the shower of fireworks. it’s a burst of gold that illuminates the whole sky. gold. shockwave. one after the other. for the first time, it’s lyney’s eyes that look at the horizon. it quirks your lips into a sort of smile, watching the pyrotechnics burst like dancing flame in his eyes.

and it’s like. you never really know the color of lyney’s eyes. someday they look gray, someday blue, someday a little violet. if that’s even possible. you always stumble over it. if you can’t remember something so simple about a guy, you must not really like him. it makes your heart twinge with bemusement. because tonight his eyes are gold.

“you’re missing it,” lyney says, and he reaches to gently tilt your chin up toward the sky. he’s holding you with one arm still, and your laces dip into the salt, and your socks are damp, and you can feel the hem of your sleeves dripping with water onto lyney’s shirt. 

“didn’t you want me to look at you?” you say. but you oblige for once, watching the fireworks burst in the sky. the waves recede back into the sea. whisper of awe as the finale leaves the horizon lit up with smoke.

lyney puts you down. your shoes sink into the shore. 

“not really,” he says. “i just said it.”  

you roll your eyes. your hands brush at the sand on your front, an exasperated smile tugging at your lips. there’s always a hollow sort of feeling when he does that. like someone’s blown all the air out of you. but it’s expected. he’s just like that.

“the fireworks were nice,” you say. “i’m glad we watched.” 

you feel like a conch shell. washed up. one that lyney picks up and blows a melancholic tune out of whenever he wants.

you think he feels a little bad.

"don't say it like that," lyney says. and he reaches for your hand, urging you closer. satisfied, he lets you go. out of sight from the groups of people behind you, he unfurls his palm.

a little red flame shoots up between you to burst into embers of flame. it glitters and shower over his skin, and when you reach out in fear, you realize there's a warmth when the fire sprinkles over him, not a burning sear.

you glance up, stunned. there's an amused flicker in lyney's eyes. like, oh, you do care.

"i told you," lyney says. and his eyes are mischievous. a little teasing. a little soft. he keeps his gaze trained on the secret fireworks bursting from his palm, like little sparklers couples do by the beach. "if you asked me to, i'll do anything."

[tklpilled]

lullabies

freminet often feels detached from the world.

it’s all he knows how to be. in the house of the hearth, there’s no room for error. he has to be strong. he can’t have any weaknesses.

(he does. he has lots of them. he cries when it rains sometimes, he freezes under extreme pressure. he’s just a pathetic child, deep down.)

so he’s built up walls, so many, too many for even him to count, and even if someone, somehow, manages to break through one, they aren’t even close to knowing him. he likes it that way. he hates when attention is on him. he doesn’t want to be known.

(yes he does. he’s so, so lonely.)

he’s not weak. how can he be, with so much protection?

(he whispers those words to himself late at night, trying to convince whoever may be listening.)

but when he’s underwater, things feel a little less overwhelming. he can forget about it all, even if just for a few minutes. the creatures down there don’t want to hurt him. they aren’t going to abandon him.

(and yet father is still here, and lyney and lynette. he’s slowly starting to wonder if, maybe, they mean it when they say they’ll stay. after all, they’ve gotten past most of his meticulously crafted walls. someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t spend all that effort on him, would they?)

freminet is on the couch one gloomy day, watching pers toddle around the room, when lyney suddenly sits beside him, throwing his arms around his shoulders.

“what’s wrong, dear freminet?” is all he asks. 

freminet hums, closing his eyes. he feels himself beginning to lean into the touch, but he quickly stops himself. “…i’m fine,” he says.

lyney sighs. “come on, there’s no use lying. i can see right through you.”

“nothing’s wrong.” it’s mostly true. it’s not that nothing is wrong, it’s just that he doesn’t know what’s wrong. he gets days like this a lot.

“cheer up,” lyney says with a poke to his side, seemingly realising he won’t get any answers. freminet flinches, tensing up. “oh?”

freminet blinks up at his older brother, confused. lyney pokes him again, as if that explains anything. freminet jumps again.

ah. he sees where this is going.

“freminet,” lyney starts, a smile growing on his face. “are you ticklish?”

“no,” answers freminet immediately.

more fingers start prodding at his sides, making freminet squirm almost uncomfortably. “are you sure—”

“i’m not ticklish,” freminet says, a bit more forcefully than he had intended, then shrinks in on himself.

lyney blinks. “o-oh,” he says, and despite the situation, freminet feels a twinge of pride at knowing he’s managed to make lyney stutter. “my apologies, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

freminet stares down at his hands in his lap. “i’m not weak,” he mumbles, not looking up.

“hm?” lyney tilts his head, as though he hadn’t heard correctly.

freminet squeezes his eyes shut. “it’s a weakness. i…don’t like it. i’m not weak.”

he knows it’s a silly thing to say, especially knowing that lyney himself is ticklish, too. the difference, though, is that lyney is so much stronger, it hardly has any effect on his skill. but freminet…

he’s not strong enough. he can’t afford something as childish as being ticklish.

(he feels even more embarrassed about it knowing that this is lyney, the same person who has read him fairytales and acted out sappy bedtime stories for him; things that are arguably more childish.)

ugh. he wants to put his diving helmet on and hide for days.

“freminet,” lyney begins, sounding a bit amused. it only makes freminet want to hide even more. “being ticklish doesn’t make you weak. it’s fun, between people who care about each other.”

freminet knows he’s right, but still…

“i won’t tickle you if you don’t want me to,” lyney continues, “but please, don’t say things like that. you’re not weak, alright?”

freminet is quiet for a long time. lyney stays put the whole time.

“…is it really fun?” freminet asks finally, in such a tiny voice that he’s surprised lyney can understand it.

his brother laughs. “i suppose, for some people. it depends who you ask, i guess.”

freminet thinks to when he was younger—to when his mother would tickle him on occasion, to when he would watch his friends get into tickle fights and how he would smile along with them even though they weren’t touching him. he thinks about watching lyney and lynette tickle each other, and suddenly the gloominess in his chest is replaced by longing, so strong it’s almost painful.

“okay,” he whispers. “you can. tickle me. if you want.”

he regrets those words as soon as they leave his mouth—what if lyney doesn’t want to? what if he just laughs and walks away? what if—

all his worries are cut off by fingers crawling across his stomach over his shirt, and he doesn’t have time to think before he’s choking back giggles.

“it’s okay,” lyney teases. “you can laugh.”

so he does. it’s been so long that freminet himself forgot what it sounded like. he squeaks as lyney’s hand travels along his stomach, then suddenly dances along his sides up to his ribs, making him burst into a fit of proper laughter. 

lyney coos. “i can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me all this time! you really do need to laugh more, freminet, it’s so cute.”

“b-behe quihihiet,” freminet whines, covering his blushing face with his hands. he squirms, moving closer to lyney as he does. “wait, wahahait, wait!”

lyney stops, one hand resting on his side and the other on his ribs. “yes?”

“ihit tickles,” freminet chokes out.

“do you want me to stop?” lyney’s fingertips press into his skin gently, making him squeal.

still…

“…no.”

for the first time in a long time, freminet feels like he’s in his own body again.

[flyingwargle]

tw: beginnings of an anxiety attack midway through

the show was a disaster.

lynette thinks it’s because of sabotage. lyney thinks it’s because of him.

when he palmed the wrong card at the start of their act, he should’ve taken it as a sign that nothing else would go well. instead, his smile became wider, raised his voice louder, swept his arms in more and more elaborate gestures. the stage lights hid the audience’s faces, but he could still hear their whispers, their judgments, their disappoint. this is not what i paid for.

that’s why he refunded their tickets. it’s the least he could do.

he sends his sister home while he inspects their props. she already did it while he was talking with the ticket office, but he has to be sure that the fault lies with him. there’s no sign of tampering, and all equipment remains in its rightful positions, waiting for tricks that would never happen. they aren’t to blame – he is.

do you really call yourself a great magician?

the theater is empty. lyney sits cross-legged onstage, facing the shuttered overhead lights. it’s cold, amplified by the empty seats and corridors. he’s cloaked in darkness, with only the stars shining through the windows.

i should go back. the others will be worried.

are they, though? do they really want such a pathetic brother back?

he squeezes his eyes shut. he picks himself up, stumbles down the hallway to exit through the back door. security locked the front entrance hours ago. he couldn’t bring himself to leave among his dissatisfied patrons.

the court of fontaine is a different entity at night. whereas light makes water seem friendly, night makes it seem unforgiving. streetlamps illuminate his path, boots echoing around him. he walks with his back straight, head held high, as if walking home after a successful show, full of bravado. this is just an act, a mask to hide his turmoil, like the teardrop he paints on his cheek before every show.

he slows. the stars accompany the moon, yet no one accompanies him. he leans against the railing to peer down at the lower levels of the city. storefronts are darkened. stalls are covered with canvas. only the faintest light radiates behind closed curtains, followed by hushed voices and rustling blankets. soon, it feels like he’s the only one left awake.

that’s why only silence answers him when he curses. “dammit!”

people make mistakes. it’s natural. he doesn’t because he knows the consequences. all he’s ever known is that a single misstep can mean being thrown to the wolves, to be claimed by the darkness without a way back. as the oldest, he can’t afford wrong moves. it isn’t just him who suffers, but his brothers and sisters.

his hand sneaks up to his chest. it’s heavy. his heart is racing. his breaths are quick. stay calm…stay calm. i…have to go back. i can’t…let the others know–

“lyney?”

he jumps. when he raises his head, his vision is blurred. tears form in the corners of his eyes. why?

why did you have to find me like this?

lynette stands on his right, freminet on his left. their gestures are light across his arms as they guide him to sit down. “you were taking so long,” lynette whispers. “we were worried about you?”

what’s there to worry about? i’m fine.

“no, you aren’t. you’re always like this when a show goes badly.”

freminet nods. “it- it’s hard to keep it together all the time. you can be frustrated. we aren’t supposed to be perfect.”

i’m supposed to be. what good am i if i can’t even put on a magic show?

“it’s not just you.” a hand rests over his own to quell his trembles. “i’m onstage, too. fremmy designs our props. our brothers and sisters help make our stage costumes. you might be the one doing the sleight of hand, but we work together to make the show work.”

“a failure now means success later,” freminet adds. “we learn and we grow. that’s how it is.”

lyney draws in a shuddering breath and squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing to clear them of tears. lynette continues to hold his other hand. “it’s okay to cry.”

that’s all the permission he needs.

neither his sister nor brother speak, simply press against him as his tears flow down his cheeks. how unbecoming of him. he watched his sister cry after she was rescued from that terrible place; he watched his brother cry when he learned that his mother would never come back. he embraced them both, lent them his shoulder, murmured soothing words. it's okay. i'm here. i'll never leave you.

even if they don't do that for him, their presence is enough to reassure him that they mean the same sentiment.

[ereana]

Wriothesley X Lyney - Take my coat

Lyney bit back a curse as another cold gust of air made his legs tremble from the chill. The outfit he wore for performances was gorgeous, Chiori had truly outdone herself, but it was not what he would have chosen to wear for a lengthy evening mission. Especially a mission that involved sitting in the middle of the ass end of nowhere staking out a rundown old farmhouse.

But he hadn’t had the luxury of choice. Father’s message to him after the show had been clear; the target was moving tonight and she wanted this situation dealt with before the morning. Lyney wasn’t stupid. 

In his haste to leave he had remembered to grab his cloak off the hook, admittedly after Lynette had told him to take it as he was about to jump out a window, but even that was inadequate for the conditions he now found himself in. It was meant for short walks through the city at night not to shield him from the sharpness of the wind’s bite as he huddled against a ruined section of stone wall.

It had been two hours and the only movement had been from a lost sheep who had wandered onto the premises and started eating the overgrown grass. The urge to use his vision is growing harder to ignore but he can’t risk the light revealing his position.

He pushes down his rising irritation as best he can and tries not to think of the hot meal that his siblings would be enjoying back home without him. All of this he could have born with only the most minor grumbling if it hadn’t been for-

“What did that sheep ever do to you? Is there some sordid personal history that I should be aware of?” 

For his temporary — the word felt like a prayer for salvation — partner. 

Duke Wriothesley. Lord of the Fortress of Meropide. Prison warden. And the most insufferable man that Lyney had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

He sat near the edge of the wall, occasionally peeking his head around the side to check the scene, wrapped in his usual coat that was undoubtedly better at keeping him warm than any piece of clothing that Lyney was currently wearing.

Lyney scowls at him. Because he can. Because there’s no-one here he needs to pretend for. Because all that donning his usual mask would do was make Wriothesley try to rip it off his face. The man had an odd obsession with denying Lyney the familiarity of the persona he’d spent years cultivating; provoking and prodding him until the anger that simmered underneath erupted in full force.

“You may not be familiar with the concept of a stake out, Your Grace, but a key element is remaining quiet and undetected.” Lyney says tightly, turning his eyes back to the farmhouse even as his focus remains locked on the predator beside him.

Wriothesley looks unimpressed. “Don’t give me that. We’re far enough away that whispering isn’t going to be overheard and there isn’t anyone the bastard could be working with that could escape the pair of us.” Another breeze of night air makes Lyney’s hands shake. “So what’s the story between you and the sheep.”

“Just because you have the attention span of a toddler doesn’t mean it’s my job to entertain you.” Lyney flexes his fingers and winces at the stiffness. 

“Funny, isn’t that exactly your job.” Wriothesley shuffles closer until Lyney can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “Or is the Great Magician too proud to extend his services to an ex-criminal like myself?” 

Every word is drawled out in that deep voice that sets Lyney’s teeth on edge like nothing else. The same voice that had once mocked him in the depths of that metal tomb under the waves and held his siblings’ lives over his head as a bargaining chip.

It was just his luck that the fucker they were after had to involve the Fortress; a merchant who had attempted to cheat both organisations and run away with a tidy sum. With Wriothesley’s boat being the only back-up plan that Fontaine currently had for dealing with the prophecy, Father was keen to keep things civil for the time being. When Wriothesley had demanded a joint endeavor to deal with the scammer she had acquiesced gracefully.

Lyney had bristled at his explanation where he outright stated he didn’t trust the Fatui not to take all the money for themselves but all that had earned him was an amused smirk curling across Wriothesley’s face.

I look forward to working with you Mr Lyney.

“Why are you even here? Surely there are hundreds of other guards you could have asked to do this.” He snaps, pressing back harder against the wall in a vain attempt to shelter from the wind.

Wriothesley chuckles and leans in until their shoulders brush against each other. He’s so stupidly big that he looms over Lyney even when they’re both sitting on the cold ground.

“Oh please, we both know if I’d done that you’d have the fool wrapped around your finger in five minutes flat. No, you’re too dangerous for me to give this anything less than my personal attention.” The way Wriothesley says dangerous sounds like a compliment, it feels like one with the way it warms Lyney’s cheeks.

He huffs and looks down at his hands, itching to summon a few sparks or a few cards to keep his fingers busy. The next gust of wind makes him shiver, the cold fully setting into his bones. If he gets sick he’s going to—

A heavy, warm familiar coat drops over his body. Instinctively he clutches at it, pulling it tight to his chest before reality reasserts itself and he looks over disbelievingly at Wriothesley. Who looks remarkably unbothered in only his shirt and black bandages over his forearms.

“What are you—”

“This is going to end in fighting no matter what happens. You know that. I know that. I’d rather not have to check that my partner can take care of himself or if he’s too busy shaking to properly shoot an arrow.” Wriothesley answers with a careless shug,

It’s a weak explanation and Lyney doesn’t miss the way gray eyes glint with satisfaction when he curls his fingers in the fur before twisting to put the garment on properly.

“Whatever.” He grumbles sourly, which does nothing to hide the way he wraps himself in Wriothesley’s coat, sinking into the blessed heat with a tiny sigh.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to keep waiting a little longer.

[xiaoscarasimp]

Smol Bit of Cat boy Smut 6

Sooo my ideas dried up recently thus why no posting of this fic but thanks to hsr 2.1 we got some *smol* ideas for this fic again

sorry its a bit rushed ;-;

Previous Chapter First Chapter

MDNI CW Usual SiZe KiNk shenanigans cum eating maid outfits etc

“S-Scara, you’re just too big!!” You cry out.

 It was another day of playing around with Lyney’s magic and you being impaled on Scaramouche’s giant cock. He decided that you would look perfect today at half your size, towering over you, making sure to put you in your place. You could see the outline of his cock  through your stomach and how it moved with each thrust. If you weren’t being literally split apart by his dick, the sight would be very arousing and thrilling. 

“Shh, darling, relax,” Scaramouche cooed, using his large, but delicate hands to stroke your face. You try to give him an indignant look but all that remains on your face is your fucked out expression. 

Scaramouche's face lit up into a nasty grin. He used his hand to find your tiny clit and stimulate it even further until you cream on his member once again. The cold shivers went down your spine as you whittle away even more, his cock becoming even more prominent in your stomach. One last squeeze of your gummy walls make him cum enough to slightly inflate your stomach to where it almost looked like you were pregnant. 

“Haa,” He sighs contently as he shrinks a bit, his ears pulled back in pleasure. His shirt starts to droop off him slightly, now looking like it was only one or two sizes too big. Scaramouche delicately pushes his shorts off his delicate feet, them crumpling to the floor. He stops you from growing enough so that he could still see the outline of his cock in your stomach. “Perfect, my little doll. Stay that size for me for a little while longer.” 

His cock wasn’t splitting you as much now, however, it was still pressing against your clit. You try to grind against it again, desperate for just a little bit more stimulation, but Scaramouche uses his tail to hold you in place, reprimanding you for trying for your third orgasm of the day. 

“My cute little doll can’t get enough of my cock, can she?” He teases, ruffling your hair. “You see those figures over there? You should fuck me while wearing one of there dresses. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” He winks as he pulls you off his still hard member, tip wet with your mixed juices.

The familiar feeling goes down your spine once again as he becomes even bigger and bigger. 

“Oops, don’t wanna lose my tiny partner would I?” He chuckles as he scoops you up. The cat boy might not have been full size, but he was still plenty big to pick you up with ease. Scaramouche brings you over to your figure collection stand and puts you down beside one of the cat girls, the figure growing bigger and more life sized to you as you continue shrinking. 

“You’ve often said you wanted to wear a maid dress, so here’s your chance.” 

He strips off the clothing of the figures, putting them down delicately in front of you. You had always dreamed of cosplaying those cat girls, but not like this. You delicately try to put on the clothes, making sure not to rip any of them. Unfortunately, you realize that you were still slightly too big for those clothes and shrink yourself a little bit more to fit them. Luckily, the outfits did have a place for your tail to fit through, but just barely. 

“H-How do I look?” You ask him, looking up at the giant cat boy. Your face was slightly red from embarrassment of being so small and in a cosplay outfit meant for one quarter size figures. 

“Not bad, although you would look better on my dick. Now, come here.”

 He pats his legs in the “Come here” motion. His half hard cock was starting to harden again, making your checks flush with arousal. How you were actually going to fit that in any of your tiny holes, you had no idea.

“Bend over and show me your pussy,” He commands, the authoritative tone in his voice sending shivers of arousal down your spine.

You bend over, face flushing even redder with embarrassment, skirt barely covering your rear end,your dripping, glistening pussy on display for your cat boy. He takes one of his long fingers and runs it up and down the outside of your hole, making sure to not let any of his fluids from earlier go to waste. Scaramouche uses the tip of his finger to plunge deep into your hole, curling it so that it’ll hit all the right spots. 

“Good girl,” he praises as you whimper at every touch. Scaramouche knew he was getting to you by teasing you. You yelp as he pinches your supple ass with his fingers, making sure to savor the feeling between his fingers. The cat boy licks your slick and other fluids off his fingers before spanking you; you try to keep the tears from the sting at bay, but unfortunately, Scaramouche sees everything. 

“Hmm? Is my tiny maid enjoying this?” He teases. Scaramouche spanks you again, a whimper of pain rips itself from your throat. 

“S-Scara, you’re hurt m-!” Another spank comes down on you. 

Worst yet, you could feel yourself being turned on by this; it almost hurt so good. 

One spank, two spanks, three spanks more, and he decided he was bored of it and instead went for using his finger to finger your tight, little hole. Only the tip fit, stretching you out, making you feel like you were about to be split in two for the second time that day. 

“You’re getting turned on by this, aren’t you?” Scaramouche laughed, his ears twitching in glee. Your face turned beet red again, partially from embarrassment and partially from how turned on you were from having the giant cat boy poking and teasing you.

“N-No I’m not.” You try to keep your voice even, however the little squeak betrayed you.

“Don't lie to me.” The cat boy knew you almost as well as you knew yourself. He knew all your turn ons and signs that you were enjoying yourself.

He teases you with the tip of his finger, poking and prodding your dripping pussy, making sure to savor the juices. He then uses his slicked up fingers to spank you one more time, a broken sob rips itself from your throat. 

“S-Scara, please,,” You beg. “I don’t care what it is, I n-need something inside of me.” 

“Oh?” He hums. 

Scaramouche reached over the edge of the table you were on and found one of your toys, usually a small clit vibrator with bunny ears, but at this size, it was rather large. You seriously doubted whether or not you would be able to fit it inside of you, but there was no harm in trying. Your cat boy stands the toy upright as you eye how to even get it inside. After a few tries to get the now girthy toy in, you manage to get the tip of the ears in, your clit throbbing at the pressure. 

“Ahhhn~!” You moan as Scaramouche turns the toy on. The vibrations rocked your whole body, pussy throbbing at each pulse. It wasn’t long before you creamed yourself on the toy and had to quickly remove it before you shrank down even further. 

The maid dress, which was too small to begin with, started to become looser and looser until eventually started to slide off of you. One sleeve fell off your shoulder, your cat boy’s expression becoming almost ravenous at the sight. You dwindle away until you can barely hold up the dress, and eventually discard it, standing naked before your now even larger partner. The toy that used to barely fit now was enormous compared to your tiny little body. 

You turn away from Scaramouche in embarrassment at how small you had become. As you peek over to him, you notice that his cock was just a few inches smaller than you and that it was still impossibly erect. His eyes almost seemed to glow with lus, wanting that tight pussy all for himself. 

“H-Hey, Scara,” You manage to squawk out. “D-Do you need help with…that?” You motion to his member. 

“Oh? My little cat girl still wants my cock, even as tiny as she is?” He purred.”I can’t but to think that you might not be able to handle it.”

 “I think I have an idea.” A dangerous glint appears in your eyes. 

You motion for Scaramouche to pick you up and put you down near his weeping cock, it only standing a few inches shorter than you. You bend down gently and use your tiny, rough-ish tongue to lick the tip of it, feeling Scaramouche quiver with anticipation and pleasure. After there was enough precum running down his cock, you try something that you had been curious about. You shrink yourself a little bit more to stand about as tall as his member and wrap your arms around it, moving your body up and down along the shaft. 

Scaramouch couldn’t believe what he was seeing: a tiny cat girl using her whole body in order to pleasure him, almost literally. You continue to lick his cock, although this time along the shaft and up and down the frenulum, making sure that your tiny tongue hit all of his sweet spots. You squeeze together your chest to make sure your nipples were rubbing his member, stimulating you as well. Despite the fact your body was already overstimulated from earlier, you couldn’t get enough of the feeling of rubbing your tits against him. 

“Y-Y/N,” he moans, voice thick with desire. “Faster, I-!” He was cut off by a moan as you rubbed your body faster and faster along his shaft. The softness of your boobs and the fact that you were moving fast enough to please him. 

Your cat boy was not the only one enjoying this; as you move faster and faster, the sensations of rubbing your tits against nearly making you cum again. You lick some of the precum running down his shaft, growing half an inch or so. As you rub faster and faster, Scaramouche throws back his head in pleasure and allows himself to finally cum after holding out for so long. 

He breathes out heavily, sighing with a little bit of laughter as he shrinks from his high. You try your best to clean him up, however he picks you and stops you. 

“Don’t fill up before dinner.”       

[crepezinhos]

POV: You took off your robe and let it drop the floor while he wears hugging you and he met his favorite kind of lingerie.

His eyes opened wide in surprise as he saw you take off your robe, thinking that you were naked under it, but got even more surprised to see that you were wearing a kind lingerie that he secretly loved. He literally does not know what to do now. Should he keep hugging you? Should he close his eyes to respect your privacy? Wait… how do you know even that they like that kind of clothing? He has secretly dreamt and so much about it and now can’t do anything about it when you give him the chance to see you like that?! God… he hated how embarrassed he was… he always kept his “though guy” posture towards you!

He decided to lean away from you without saying anything, thinking that would help, but that just made them see even more of your body. He felt his arousal grow together as he stared at you wordless, but his heart barely stopped beating when he saw you slowly walking towards to him, absolutely panicking internally. He closed his eyes shut as he felt your arms embracing his body and your boobs touching his chest, asking for him to make love to you and if he liked it. He swallowed a whole bunch of saliva before daring to say anything.

“I-I do… I definitely like it, my love…” He said extremely nervous, unsure on how should he express his arousal to you, then went quiet for some seconds, trying to listen to you whispered in his ear very carefully. “What..? You want me to touch you..? I… I will… I will…”

Xiao, Gorou, Wanderer

He’s innocent and wasn’t expecting you to pull such a surprise like that ar all, so he actually held your robe in place when it was about to fall, but it wasn’t quick enough to fully cover the lingerie. Now his eyes were wide-open as he stared at your breasts being covered and perfectly positioned by a very teasing lingerie of the kind he loved

You smirked at his reaction, making him decide to open the robe entirely, meeting what he expected to see.

“Oh..! Is this for… me?” He asked and you nodded. “Oh, wow…” He went quiet again to admire the view he had. “We’re having sex tonight, aren’t we?” He asked in slight confusion and embarrassment, making you nod very teasingly too.

Childe, Itto, Thoma

His eyes gently widened as he saw the lingerie pop up from under your robe, but he was not surprised at all. He was just… amused with your sudden effort on seducing him. He smirked with that piece of art in front of, gently beginning to run his hands around your waist and chest, stopping at your breast to gently cup them and massage the way he knows you like it, causing you to embrace his body seductively too.

God… he will make you feel like the most loved woman in the world tonight.

“Well… who am I to say no?” He asked to themselves as they leaned their face closer to yours to kiss your inviting lips.

Kaeya, Lyney, Zhongli, Kazuha, Sethos

Initially, he didn’t say anything, he just kept staring at you with an unsurprised face. You got embarrassed after some silent seconds, trying to get a reaction from him, beginning to think they did not like it your little surprise at all, but they were actually just thinking about how would they fuck you in that clothing in a way he could perfectly enjoy the sexiness of the lingerie, such as a missionary or wall sex.

Eventually, you gave up on the act and tried to push yourself away from him, but he didn’t let you move, which slightly surprised you. You stared back at him, trying to understand what he wanted, but he still didn’t say anything, instead, he grabbed a piece of your hair to put it behind your ear and leaned his face close to it.

“Get on the bed and get ready, I’ll be back in 5 minutes.” He whispered before waking away and leaving you alone in the room with a very big arousal.

Diluc, Albedo, Al Haitham, Neuvillette, Kinich

He instantly smirked and chuckled as soon as he saw the lingerie pop out from the falling robe. You realized that you had already succeeded in turning the man on when he started walking close to you, looking up and down with that recognizable smirk of his whenever he wanted to have sex or was having sex with you.

He was surprised to see you had grown desires for him again so quick, your last round was only two days ago and he’s usually the one to ask for it. Maybe he hadn’t fulfilled everything you wanted to fulfill that night, but now he would certainly make sure he’ll make you regret teasing him so precisely like that and that you get overwhelmed with your own desires.

You smiled back to him when he started running his hands around, happy that you managed to drive him into what you wanted, although you know you’ve just sent yourself to a kinky death sentence.

“God, you look beautiful…” He flirted, licking his own lips in anticipation right afterwards, then going quiet for some seconds. “Get on your knees.”

Scaramouche, Heizou, Wriothesley, Cyno, Ayato

Taglist: @the-stinky-winky @alatusorrow @kindofshyent @kindofscenic

(Just some drafts during my trip lol)