MARAHUYO

'Good friends are like the stars. You don't see in the bright sunshine. They shine in the dark.’

[mojalichan]

── .✦ Slight NSFW below, minors DNI

A new Lohen illust, inspired from @chai-writes-stuff 's fic again~~

You can read it here! Reader definitly didn't stop at two buttons of his shirt here lol

[chai-writes-stuff]

you've been bad — lohen x reader, NSFW, oneshot

Ი𐑼 with related artwork by @/mojalichan! >w<

summary — are you the second coming of stormterror, the fearless wyvern knight karmilla, or just a girl who reads too much erotic fiction in your spare time? whatever the case, if lohen asks it of you, you don’t mind to show him what happens when he’s been bad.

themes — horimiya!inspired, librarian!reader, smut and humor, smacking your boyfriend around cause its his kink, interrogating lohen (roleplay), fate's glimmer returns, silly fire emblem references, lil bit of omniscient POV at the beginning, chair sex, dick riding, whiny-dom-top!lohen, praise, missionary, exploring new kinks together -> (very vanilla) choking, creampies and orgasms, they're in love your honor ♡

WC: 4.2k | ao3

All the knights in the Fifth Company feared their vicious Vice Captain, who dared to take on even the most vile of enemies in one-on-one combat with reckless abandon. None thought it possible, but after their return from Nod-Krai, there soon became a figure they feared even more. This individual was an enigma—one which the likes of the Knights of Favonius had never witnessed before. She had a small footprint, an even smaller list of achievements, and not a single badge of honor to her name. Yet whenever she cleared the room, men bowed their heads, and none dared to look at her twice.

This person, of course, was their resident librarian.

“Bun!” the Vice Captain chirped, running towards the woman with his arms extended wide. “You came to pick me up, didn’t ya?!”

Ursula and Gunther exchanged a look. When the Vice Captain came within range of this fearsome female, they held their breaths.

The woman raised her hand. Without missing a beat, it slapped straight across the Vice Captain’s face.

Smack! The man’s head whipped to the opposite side of the impact—a startling display of the power behind the woman’s blow. Ursula and Gunther cowered, holding one another as they dared not to gasp.

“Let’s go,” the woman said brusquely, holding her palm out to him.

The Vice Captain was nothing but giggles when he placed his hand in hers. As the two trotted off, hand in hand, their Vice Captain being pulled like a dog on a leash, neither Ursula nor Gunther uttered a single word. After all, when it came to the only person who could tame the likes of Vice Captain Lohen, they would rather endure his special training ten times over than attempt to engage in dialogue with her.

“...How was that?” you asked Lohen awkwardly. “Did you like it?”

“Fuck yeah,” Lohen replied, his lips curled into a grin. “This means you’re gonna beat me tonight, right? I’m so fuckin’ excited.”

“Can you…not say it like that?” you asked with a wince. “I mean, I got everything you asked for ready, but…if you keep walking around telling people I beat you, they’re going to avoid me even more than they do now!”

“But you do beat me!” he chirped. “A consensual beating is still a beating, sweetheart!”

“Ugh,” you sighed. “Someone’s going to ask the knights to do a welfare check on you if you keep talking like this.”

“Uh-oh, that wouldn’t be good. They’d probably walk in on you beating me.”

“Lohen.”

He laughed. “Just joking a little, Bun, jeez. Ooh—did you remember to get the sisal rope I asked for? I like how scratchy it is.”

“Yes, I…” You sighed. “Yes. And before you ask, I got the gloves and picked up the…outfit.”

Lohen’s giggle was beyond perverse. Warmth touched at your cheeks, but you squeezed his hand anyway. As you both went strolling through the streets of Dornman Port, Lohen smiling from ear-to-ear with the red mark of your hand displayed proudly on his cheek, you could feel the stares and hear the whispers. Still, when he was content like this, you could hardly let it bother you.

As soon as you let Lohen into your home, a humble thing placed among the row of houses near the harbor, he immediately started stripping his plates of armor. You stepped around him, taking up the bundle of clothes you had laid on your table. As you stared at the black lace, you hesitated.

“Should I…tie you up first?” you asked. “Or after I change?”

“Tie me up first,” he said as he unfastened the various buckles of his uniform. “That way it builds some tension.”

“O…kay.”

He came up to your side, languidly curling an arm around your hips.

“Oh, don’t be so scared.” He pressed a reassuring kiss to your temple, giving you a firm squeeze.“You’ve got this!”

Easier said than done, really. You and Lohen had played around with the idea for some time, but that didn’t make you feel any more confident about it. Where he was an interrogation extraordinaire, you were just a girl who read way too much erotic fiction in your spare time.

Not that your beloved series was erotica. It just so happened to contain various sexual situations. You read it for the plot.

“Man, I’m so excited,” Lohen said, grinning as he flopped into the wooden chair. “Love it when you smack me around in your underwear. It’s so fuckin’ hot.”

Awkwardly, you laughed. You reached for the bundle of sisal rope, the threads scratching your palm as you did so. When you knelt at his side, looping the rope around his wrist, he giggled, his hands squeezing into fists.

“Tie it tighter,” he told you jovially.

“S-sure…”

One wrist, two. Then his ankles. All of Lohen’s limbs were fixed to the wooden chair, and you were convinced that he couldn’t have looked happier about it if he tried. Your eyes lingered on the indigo of his collared shirt for a moment, before you decided to reach over and loosen the top two buttons.

“Naughty, naughty, Bun. You like that?”

Ah, your egotistical boyfriend. Unfortunately, with his massive pride came the fact that he was the sexiest man you had ever met.

“I’m gonna change,” you said. “Do you, um…? Are you…? Er, never mind. I’ll…be back.”

You gestured to the hall. Lohen stared after you with his signature smirk, sending your heart skipping in your chest. Somewhat flustered, you rushed to your bedroom, skimpy black lingerie held to your chest.

You could do this for him. It wasn’t much different from those nights where you smacked him around and placed your fingers to his throat, just a slightly varied exposition. You had read countless scenarios like this in your novels, even placed highlights among the parts you thought that Lohen might like. For weeks, you had studied the character of a salacious fictional woman with a penchant for doling out pain, just to get yourself into the right mental headspace.

Not because of the explicit smut that accompanied it. You only read the world renowned series—Fate’s Glimmer—for the plot.

“Channel your inner Karmilla,” you muttered aloud. “You can do this.”

Nodding to yourself, you smiled.

One heeled step, then the other. Slowly, you walked the length of the hallway that led from your bedroom to your kitchen, crossing your feet over your midline with each swing of your leg. It was probably stilted, maybe even a little awkward, but the way Lohen’s eyes lit up when he saw your rookie attempt at a cat walk made your heart skip a beat.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he said with a wicked grin.

Heat pooled in your cheeks. “Script,” you reminded him.

He nodded, and in an instant, that smile was gone from his face. The way he glared at you sent shivers down your spine, and when you thought to yourself of Karmilla, the seductive dragon knight who killed for the sake of love, you gave him an amused smile in return.

“Vice Captain Lohen,” you said. Slowly, you walked around him, letting your gloved hand drag across his chest. “You’ve caused quite a bit of trouble for the Fatui here in Nod-Krai. So many of my men have fallen at your hand.”

You circled back around to his front, smiling as tenderly as you could.

Then, you brusquely cupped his chin, forcing his head backwards. As you loomed over him, staring down into his crimson eyes with your fingers dug into his soft cheeks, you felt the shake of Lohen’s breath in his throat. His lips moved like he wanted to smile, but he forced them back into a flat expression before you could remind him, script.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” you whispered.

“Ha,” Lohen spat, returning your look with a searing glare of his own. “Maybe your ‘men’ should have put up more of a fight. If you’re gonna blame anyone, then you should blame the one who trained them.”

You tilted your head, maintaining your smile. Narrowing your eyes slightly, you asked, “Are you insulting me, Vice Captain?”

“If it was you,” he said, “then yeah, I am. You did a lousy fuckin’ job.”

You snapped your hand back before sending it driving forwards. The smack of your palm against Lohen’s cheek echoed through the room, and when his head swiveled to the opposite side, you grasped his hair in your fist. Pushing his head backwards, you smiled as you purred, “You don’t seem to understand the situation you’re in, Vice Captain.”

His shoulders were heaving like he was already getting riled up. You watched as he bit his lower lip, let it go, and stared into your eyes with a longing expression. He squirmed, like he wanted to touch you, but the restraints binding him did not give him reprieve. As you wracked your mind for a seductive line, your eyes rolled down his torso, catching on the peek of his collarbones. You kept his head held back with one hand, using your other to play the leather of your gloves against the exposed part of his chest.

“Ordinarily,” you said, “I would have killed you by now. But I need a bit of information. That, and…you are quite handsome, Vice Captain. I’m interested in seeing how much it’ll take to break you.”

“You’re sick,” he hissed. “What kind of filthy woman uses her captives for her own pleasure?”

“Once again, Vice Captain. I don’t think you’re understanding the situation you’re in.”

“Oh, I understand it just fine. You’re a sadistic little pervert, aren’t you?”

You laughed, even though your heart pounded in response to his words. Gripping his hair harder, watching his eyelids blink rapidly and his chest heave faster, you murmured, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were getting off on this, Vice Captain.”

“Fuck yeah, I am,” he said breathily.

“Script.”

“I mean—fuck you,” he growled, “you sick fuckin’ psycho. You think this is a game?”

Heat flooded your cheeks when you giggled. Running the thumb of your gloved hand along the corner of his mouth, you murmured, “I sure do, Vice Captain. And I think it’s one you want to play.” You leaned closer to his face, lowering your voice. “By the end of this, I’m sure we’ll figure out who the real sick psycho is.”

Without missing a beat, you straddled him, sitting atop of the bulge in his trousers. One of your hands kept Lohen’s head pinned backwards, while the other tried at the tight purse of his lips. When you subtly rubbed your hips forward, he let out a low hiss, his arms straining against the sisal rope. As soon as he let out that strained sound, you pushed your thumb into his mouth, thrusting the leather of your glove against his hot tongue. Lohen’s face glowed red, and when you hooked your thumb into the inner corner of his mouth, he let out a moan.

He was losing the script, really, but the fact that he was enjoying it was enough to keep you from mentioning it. You smiled somewhat fondly, before remembering that you were supposed to be playing the part of a psychopathic sadist. Laughing under your breath, you rubbed your hips forward, feeling wetness seep through your lacy black undergarments because of it.

“You’re so hard, Vice Captain,” you crooned, playing your crotch along that stiff, prominent tent of his. “How embarrassing.”

“Fuck,” Lohen said, his voice partially muffled by your finger. “Bun, you’re so hot.”

You giggled. “Falling in love with the Fatui, huh?”

“Ugh,” Lohen groaned, his arms straining once again. “I wanna fuck you so bad, Bun.”

You closed your eyes, but you smiled still. Heat bathed your cheeks as you rutted against him, feeling the shape of him against your outer lips. It felt nice to grind in his lap like this, slow and controlled, as fast as you desired it to be. You were far too used to Lohen throwing you over whatever counter he could find and fucking you like an orgasm was the only solution to defusing a bomb. To be able to slow down for once and take your time, all while he groaned and struggled beneath you, felt a bit better than you had expected.

“Take your—.” Lohen let out a hissing breath. “Take your panties off. Put me in.”

“Vice Captain Lohen,” you answered firmly. “You forget yourself.”

“Fuck, Bun,” he gasped. “Take this shit off me and I’ll fuck you right now.”

“Oh? Should I remind you that you’re the one who wanted this?”

“Fuck,” he whined, his hips attempting to rut up against yours, constrained by the ropes binding his ankles. “Don’t be a bitch, Bun.”

Something about seeing him so desperate for you, the way he always made you so desperate for him, sent a pleasured thrill right through you. With a grin, you continued your slow grind over his bulge, wringing moan after moan from his throat. The way he clawed at the arms of the chair, like he’d grab you by the hips and destroy you if he had the chance, made your chest bubble with laughter.

This was…part of the script, right? You were just acting the part of Karmilla. You didn’t actually enjoy taunting Lohen like this, did you?

“Bun,” he whimpered, red stretching from one of his ears to the other. “Please.”

Chills ran down your spine. You hadn’t even realized “please” was a word in Lohen’s lexicon.

You returned to your coy smirk. Nodding, you craned down to place your mouth to his.

He was grunting against you, his hips still trying to move. You were worried he’d tip the chair with how hard he was struggling, so with a light touch of your hand, you squeezed the sides of his neck where his choker lay. The way he moaned and tried to rut up into you at the same time made you shiver.

“Calm down, Vice Captain,” you said between kisses. “Acting like you deserve a reward…don’t you know you’ve been bad?”

“If you don’t get me out of these fucking pants,” he hissed, “I’m gonna be a lot worse when you take this shit off me.”

…Was that script or was he being serious?

“Ah, fuck,” Lohen sputtered when you reached between his legs. As you unzipped him, he moaned, “Yeah, that’s a good girl.”

Even tied to a chair, whining and begging for you to sit on his dick, he maintained his usual egotistical sense of power. You couldn’t deny that it was sexy. When you pulled aside the wet crotch of your panties, brushing up against Lohen’s glans as it dribbled with precum, he let out one of the most guttural sounds you had ever heard.

“Sit on it,” he gasped, his hands curling up into fists. “Bun, sit on it.”

You swallowed hard. Lightly, you rubbed him across your inner folds.

“Bun,” Lohen whined. “You’re being a fuckin’ bitch.”

You liked the sound of that.

“I swear to fuckin’ God,” he growled. “I’m gonna fuck the living shit out of you when you untie me.”

You loved the sound of that.

“Sit on it, sit on it, sit on—nn, good girl.”

He moaned and you let out a hot breath, watching Lohen’s head roll back as you sank onto him. The soft sound of your cunt sliding around his member was secondary to the excited pound of your heart, then tertiary to the plap of your hips meeting his. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gripping hard as you slowly lifted up again. When you descended back onto him, taking your sweet time with it, Lohen’s curses turned so frequent and vile, your cheeks flushed at the sound of them. He jerked beneath you, hands clenching and unclenching as he let out a frustrated snarl.

“You’re a cunt,” he gasped. “I love you, Bunny, but you’re a cunt.”

“Don’t you…like that, though?” you replied breathily. “Isn’t it nice to…take it slow?”

“Too fuckin’ slow,” he growled. “I know you know how to ride me, you fuckin’ bitch.”

You laughed when he stared at you with those dark eyes of his, the ones that only came out when he was thoroughly pissed at you. It wasn’t often that you had the upper hand in a situation with Lohen, but whenever you did, you adored how he’d let his vile side out. Lohen was your two-faced prince, one who led you to bed with his hands curled in yours, then proceeded to ruin you until your tears soaked the pillow beneath you. Tender, sometimes; rough, others; but full of love all the same.

“I’m taking care of you,” you whispered, “and you call me a bitch for it?”

The darkness in his eyes immediately dissipated. Sounding concerned, he said, “Sorry, I didn’t—.”

“Ah-ah. It’s just the script, Lohen. I know that.”

“...Okay,” he answered. “Just making sure.”

Ah, that was your prince alright. Sure, he’d fuck you so hard that you couldn’t walk straight for days, but he’d never want you to think for a second that he didn’t appreciate you.

“I still,” he groaned, “want you to go faster.”

“Well. That’s too bad.” You caressed his face, pressing your lips to his. “I quite like this pace, Vice Captain.”

When you lifted up again, your inner walls following the shape of him as he receded within you, you swung your hips in a circular motion. With a grin, you said, “I’ll spell something for you. If you guess it right, then I’ll go faster.”

You kissed him again, rocking your hips back, then slightly to the right. With another wet plap of your lap to his, you swung around in a circle. Rocking back, forward; back, forward; then straight across—.

“Lohen,” he sputtered. “You’re spelling Lohen.”

You laughed. “Good job.”

You moved a bit faster, feeling the stretch of his girth within you. Lohen’s teeth dug into his lower lip, his eyes blinking rapidly. Through his tense mouth, he groaned, “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Your smile fell from your lips. You tried to stifle your whimper.

“You’re so good at that,” he groaned. “A real fuckin’ pro at taking me.”

“L-Lohen,” you said, your voice wavering.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard after this,” he growled. “Put my hands around your pretty little throat.”

“O-oh.”

“Make you take it,” he snarled, “until you say thank you.”

“F…fuck,” you stammered, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Is that…part of the script?”

His lips curled into a lopsided grin. “Do you want it to be?”

Your lips fell open, silent at first. After a hesitant swallow, you whispered, “I…don’t know.”

He chuckled. “Which one of us is the bad one again?”

In all honesty, you could no longer tell.

“Untie me,” he whispered.

Ever a fool for him, you obliged.

You were used to the sensation of Lohen fucking into you like a battering ram. That wasn’t anything new. But the hands around your throat?

“You okay?”

Your hands grasped his forearms, your lips gasping for air. Though tears streamed down your face, you nodded.

“Woah, woah,” he said, relinquishing his grasp on the sides of your neck. “Breathe, Bun.”

You inhaled a gulping breath as he requested. The fuzzy feeling in your mind was replaced by stinging clarity, making you acutely aware of the slap of Lohen’s pelvis into your own. Your nails dug into his forearms, and when his tip mashed against the lip of your cervix, you let out a sob of his name.

“Again,” you wailed, squeezing his wrists. “Do it again, Lohen.”

Like a vice, those hands of his clamped around your neck once more. With another forceful thrust of his hips, stuffing you full of him, you were overwhelmed by the pain in your pelvis and the dizziness in your head, all of it melting your insides into a sweet pool of pleasure. Lohen didn’t look at you with those princely eyes this time—no, these eyes were the ones he wore when he came home drenched in the blood of his enemies, the ones he quickly fixed whenever he met your gaze. You had always known there was a feral animal within him, waiting for the right chance to rear its head and bite its fangs into your neck. You just hadn’t realized that you, too, might end up longing for something like this.

Perhaps you had been stuck in a safety net for too long. Always sticking to the jobs with the lowest risk, not even daring to ponder the life of an adventurer. You liked simplicity and played it chaste, but whenever you read those graphic scenarios in your novels, your eyes soaking in the depravity of the explicit content, you could never help but wonder.

Besides. Lohen seemed to like it.

“Breathe,” he said, releasing you once more.

You gasped, your legs flailing around his hips as you drug air into your screaming lungs. Between your legs, he thrust and thrust, the wet slaps of his skin against yours consuming your ears. Somewhat delirious, you felt like a drunk woman when you slurred, “That feels s’good, Lohen. Do it again.”

“Bun, you’re gonna pass out,” he murmured. “Just breathe, okay?”

You nodded, blinking tears from your eyes as you whispered, “Okay.”

“You did…” A groan, punctuated by a thrust. “You did really good.”

Sniffling, you whimpered, “Okay.”

“Mm, don’t cry.”

He leaned over you, his hands cupping your face. When his mouth pressed to yours, you looped your arms around his neck, holding him in close. With each rough thrust of his hips, you whimpered against him, the salt of your tears filling your mouth.

“You did so good, pretty girl,” he whispered. “So good for your first time.”

You nodded, and he chuckled. After kissing you again, he said, “We’ll take it easy, okay? You can’t hold your breath as long as I can, and I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Your breath quivered. Pressing your hand to his face, you whispered, “Okay.”

“Oh, Bun,” he murmured, slotting his nose against yours. “I know you just wanna make me happy.”

“I do, but…” You stroked your hand across his cheek as you craned your mouth closer to his. “I did like it. I’m not lying to you.”

He gave you a soft kiss. “I know you’re not.”

Ah, his princely side was back. As you thread your fingers through his hair, keeping his mouth pressed to yours, you smiled. As you adapted to his wishes, it seemed that he was always proficiently adapted to yours. You felt the twine of his fingers, pressing your free hand into the mattress, and as the rut of his hips climbed to a sweet breaking point, you rocked back into him with each thrust.

“Thank you,” Lohen said between kisses. “You’re really good to me, Bun.”

You smiled against his lips. “Of course I am. I love you, you know?”

He grinned. “You never let me forget it.”

“And that’s how it should be.” You played your thumb along the mole studding his cheek, purring, “You won’t say it back?”

“Silly girl,” he whispered hotly. “You know I love you more than anything.”

You dug your teeth into your lower lip. Euphoria washed over you like a tepid wave, brushing the shore before slinking back to the sea. You grasped Lohen’s hand harder, and before you could impart the words, he took them right from your mouth.

With him kissing you like this, fucking you like this—it was only a matter of time. With your legs tucked to his hips, you moaned the words against his tongue. I’m cumming.

His laugh tickled your cheeks. His hips thrust into yours once more before abruptly stopping. As he moaned into the hot cavern of your joined mouths, you knew what he was saying. I’m cumming, too.

He thrust again. Then once more. Still kissing you, he gave you every last drop of him, and you couldn’t have been more content about it if you tried.

“Mm, Bun,” he moaned. “You’re so good at taking it.”

You giggled. When he nuzzled against your cheek, laying his full body weight atop of you, you looped an arm around his back. He pressed kiss after kiss to your face, crooning, “Love you, love you, love you,” over and over again.

“Get off me,” you laughed. “We need to clean up.”

“Done already?” he whined. “I can get it up again, I promise.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” you murmured back.

His lips stretched into a toothy grin. “Wanna bet?”

He lifted off of you, grabbing you by the shoulder. You yelped when he flipped you over, your face pressed to the pillow beneath you. Lohen’s hands traced the shape of your hips, and when he settled on your ass, he let out an inquisitive hum.

“I think I’ve got one more in me,” he purred.

You grinned, biting your index finger between your teeth. “You’re bad, Vice Captain.”

He laughed. “You’ll just have to punish me for it next time.”

When he slapped his wet shaft against the curve of your ass, you smiled. You’d let him have the upper hand this time, sure. But when you walked him to base tomorrow, dropping him off in front of all of his subordinates, you’d be sure to collect your dues tenfold. With a single smack of your hand, you’d put that cocky Vice Captain back in his proper place—right beneath your heel.

Well. With thoughts like these, it seemed that the other knights would have to remain scared of you a while longer.

a/n: i gotta give credit where credit is due, @crazyroulettes you are legit my ghost writer and i love ya! she gave me the horimiya idea and i also stole that stormterror bit in the summary from her. and to @seimio-inari, thanks for gassing me up on discord! xD anyway, it's been a hot minute since i posted some lohen smut! this one's a long one, and i sure hope you enjoyed! just a quick disclaimer to anyone who may send me asks after this one: please keep in mind that most of my content is vanilla and don't ask me about extreme topics as i will ignore you. if you liked what you read, please consider leaving a me a heart! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ reblogs and comments appreciated! icymi! chai's last lohen post: ring finger, lohen drabble/imagine (350+ notes) masterlist

[chai-writes-stuff]

drunk — lohen x reader, SFW/Suggestive, drabble

summary — sure, lohen could hold down his poisons like no one's business, but the same sentiment didn't exactly apply to alcohol...

themes — drunk!lohen, chai's take on lightweight!lohen, librarian!reader, established relationship, fluff and humor, drunk kissing

WC: 838

You knew that Lohen avoided alcohol like it was the plague itself, but you also knew that your headstrong boyfriend could never say no to a challenge.

“Ugh,” he groaned, stumbling over his own feet as he clung to your shoulders. “Bun, I can’t fuckin’ see straight. I hate this.”

You smiled, hugging your arm around his waist. As you led him through the streets of nighttime Mondstadt, his steel-toed boots clinking in sporadic, unpredictable patterns, you laughed through your closed lips.

“Maybe you should have just said no,” you murmured.

“No way,” he slurred. “And let ‘im think I’m a fuckin’ bitch? While my girlfriend’s watchin’?” He hiccuped. “Hell no!”

“Okay,” you laughed, “but you only managed to get through one tankard.”

“S’better than none,” he grumbled. “You’re still—hic!—proud of me, aren’ you?”

“I am,” you answered with a knowing smile. “You did a really good job holding down that one tankard, Lohen.”

“Fuck yeah, I did.” His eyes found yours, his face saturated with a boozy, red color. It was almost as red as his eyes, which seemed to roll down the length of your body as he stumbled along beside you. You paid half of your attention to him, and the other half on making sure you didn’t both go plummeting into the cobblestone road.

“Have you always been this sexy?” he blurted, practically tripping over his words as he did. “I don’t remember there being two of you.”

“Seeing my twin, are you? And yes, I’ve always been this sexy.”

“Your twin’s hot,” he slurred. “Just like you. Hey, I really wanna make out with you, Bun.”

Your cheeks flushed with warmth. Smiling still, you said, “We can do that when we get home.”

“Can I—hic!—can I make out with both of you?”

You leaned your head back and laughed. Lohen started laughing too, but when you caught his eyes again, he dug his teeth into his smirking lower lip.

“There’s three of you now,” he purred. “I wanna kiss every single one.”

“Good luck with that, Lohen.”

“Thank you.”

You reached into your pocket, withdrawing your set of house keys. Right as you went to unlock the door, Lohen leaned over, making kissing noises as he tried for one of your triplet doppelgängers. He let out a confused sound when his lips connected with the air, but when you ushered him into the darkness of your home, he went right back to trying.

“Mm,” he said when his lips connected with your cheek. “There’s my Bun.”

You giggled when he put his teeth to your cheek, giving you the graze of a bite. His arms wrapped around you, along with the smell of Dandelion Wine and his woodsy cologne. He nibbled at you like an excited bunny, licking you with his tongue and rolling the fat of your cheek between his teeth, letting out a satisfied moan all the while. It was ticklish more than it was painful, filling your living room with the sound of your own laughter.

“Can we make out?” he slurred.

“Why are you asking?” you laughed. “You act like we haven’t ever made out before.”

“I’ve made out with you,” he said, “but not your two sisters.”

“You wanna make out with me or my sisters?”

“With you,” he clarified, “but I’m worried I might miss.”

With a grin so big it hurt, you clapped your hands around his cheeks. Bringing his scarlet-colored face to yours, you pressed your noses together with a cheeky giggle.

“It wouldn’t do well for you to miss, Vice Captain. What would the rest of the ranged company think?”

“I don’t think I’ll miss now,” he slurred. “You better be ready, ‘cause I’mma—hic!—I’mma kiss you, library girl.”

With a loud, unrestrained moan, he went diving right into your face, his tongue pressing flat against your closed lips. When you laughed, he slotted his mouth against yours, giving you a taste of that tankard of wine he had failed to tolerate. In between wet, sloppy kisses, he moaned, “You taste so good.” Another kiss. “Taste better’n alcohol.”

It was a low bar, but you’d allow it. He kissed you so hard, you were slowly stepping backwards, your tongue gliding across his as you lifted your hands to his face. You felt the couch against the back of your legs, and then with a soft thump, you and Lohen went falling into it.

“Mm, Bun,” he moaned. “Your sisters are watchin’ us make out.”

You laughed into his hot mouth, your ears burning with warmth. When he gave you a chance to breathe, you jokingly said, “You’re really focused on other women right now?”

“Huh? Nooo,” he drawled. “I mean, they do look like you, so…I guess I’m a little distracted.”

Before you could answer, he leaned back down, taking your lips between his once again. Threading your fingers through his hair, you smiled.

Sure, Lohen was a lightweight through and through, but you could get used to this flavor on him.

a/n: hehehe i've seen people talk about whether they think lohen is a lightweight or not, and i am here to share my hc that i think he IS xD hope you enjoyed this silly little drabble! anyway, if you liked what you read, please consider leaving a me a heart! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ reblogs and comments appreciated! icymi! chai's last lohen post: agbsihp [5/10]: lepus miles, requiem (170 notes) masterlist

📖 fellow authors, i do not mind if you are inspired by my works to write something similar, but please, PLEASE credit me if you are! these concepts mean a lot to me, so i would really like to be credited for any of my personal ideas that inspire you! thank you so much!

[shizukano]

Here... (Lohen x reader)

"You're a clumsy one aren't 'cha?"

You heard Lohen say, the amusement in his voice clear as daylight. Looking up from your meal, you see him eyeing your face. His usual grin a little wider now.

A light laugh left his lips at your confusion. Instead of telling you, he merely pointed to his cheek.

He could see the gears in your head moving before you finally caught on. But instead of wiping away the small splotch of food on your cheek like he thought, you had suddenly leaned over.

The warm and soft press of your lips to his cheek. So sudden... Yet so sweet...

A hand immediately covered the lower half of his reddening face, while the other had spontaneously stabbed the dining knife he had in his grasp earlier straight into the table .

His cuteness aggression flaring up, he felt the need to stab the table again. The other patrons who had saw the display of affection be damned. They can whisper all they want, he just needed a minute...

Lohen swore you'll be the death of him instead of all his fights.

[bedrottingdoll]

꒰˖`ꉂ 𝓦ho 𝒟o 𝒴ou 𝓦αnt? ✮˖ ݁.꒱

𝒞ospℓαყer!𝐵oყfriend (𝒮cαrαmouche & 𝐿ohen) x AFAB!𝑅eader ꒰ 𝑀ODERN 𝒜U ꒱

🕸️️๋࣭ ⭑ Summary: Your boyfriend looks exactly like Scαrαmouche in real life, and he's built a massive TikTok following from cosplaying him. One day, while he's filming, you see Lohen's burst animation leak and lose every functioning brain cell you have. He notices. So he does what any normal, well-adjusted person would do… fucks you in the Scαrαmouche cosplay until you forget Lohen's name. And when that doesn't fully work? He shows up in a Lohen cosplay you didn't know he ordered, in your bedroom, just to prove he can still be the one you fall apart for.

Warnings (cw) .ᐟ cracking in cosplay ꒰ roleplaying ꒱, blindfolding, degradation, rough sex, near-blackout from choking, creampie ꒰ a lot... ꒱ , oral ꒰ f and m receiving ꒱, mild cnc undertones ꒰ consensual roleplay framing ꒱, established relationship, manhandling, suspended 69 position, aftercare, lohen nation vs scaranation...

Word count .ᐟ 16k+

𖦹.`` ꉂ🕸️ Author's note: This is a concept I had for a fat while (like years, not just months) bcuz of those TikToks of ppl dating a cosplayer and they'd flex about it, and I finally, finally put a cosplayer x reader into writing. Thank you to my wonderful, smart, gorgeous bestest friend @vvalentiqq, who helped me with this, especially with the crazy ass sex positions, so props to her!! And this, as always, is cross-posted onto AO3.

LINKS ₊˚⊹♡ ˚✎𓂃 masterlist | ao3 | kofi | taglist | discord server

"Ugh, quit blinking, you keep making me mess up, Kuni!" You snap, yanking your boyfriend by the jaw closer to you.

He opens his right eye, the one you already applied eyeliner on, and glares, his eye rolling before closing back again. "I'm not blinking, and I'm staying perfectly still. It's your fault if you mess up, not mine. Don't get mad at me that you're shitty at this."

You take a deep breath, repressing the urge to slap him hard in the face, because you know it's useless. Your boyfriend lives to ragebait the shit out of you. You don't say anything in response; you scoot closer to his standing frame, your feet dangling off the bathroom counter as you continue working on his left eye.

"Do you want the wing straight up or straight out?" You ask, pausing with one hand on his jaw, and the other on his cheek, with the eyeliner hovering right above his lashline.

Kuni opens both of his eyes this time, stares straight at you, and rolls his eyes at your question like it should be obvious, "Neither? Obviously." He narrows his eyes, crossing his arms as he adds, "When have you ever seen me with that? You're my girlfriend, you're supposed to know that it goes out slanted. Not up, not straight. Slanted."

You narrow your eyes back at him, tightening your grip on his jaw in retaliation, "How am I supposed to know when you're ultra specific about everything and change your answer every time I ask? Two days ago, you told me to make it straight."

He flicks his eyes to the side like he's side-eyeing some invisible camera, and his eyes look annoyingly perfect when he does it. With the base shadow on his lids and the dark smudge along his lower lash line, and the contacts he doesn't need to wear.

His natural eyes are blue, but he insists on wearing indigo colored contacts because it's "more in character", and you've learned not to argue with him about Scaramouche lore because you will lose. Every single time.

He glances back at you, his tone dry, "I told you that because last time was Xiao, not Scaramouche like today. Obviously. How many times do I need to say it for you to understand?"

You glance at him, copying his dry tone, "Just one more time, and I'll poke this pen through your eyelid. You wouldn't need someone to do your eyeliner by then."

He gives you a challenging smirk in response, "Do it, then. You wouldn't get that far to do any actual damage. I'll sue you and use the settlement money to hire someone who can actually do eyeliner."

You don't dignify that with a response. You tilt his head back with your grip on his jaw, angling it so you can drag the liner across his lash line in one smooth stroke.

You smile involuntarily when it comes out clean and matches the other side perfectly. It always comes out good when he stops being a little bitch about it… which is never, but today sufficed that never.

"The other side matches," you say, leaning back to check your work, watching as his eyes open slowly like he's unsure if you're done or not. "Perfect, like always, because I did it. Not you."

He scoffs, stepping back and moving toward the bathroom mirror, examining just what you're calling 'perfection'. You watch as he tilts his face to the left, then right, and as he leans in, he narrows his eyes.

The eyeliner is actually the last step of a much longer process. This part, the eyeliner, takes ten minutes tops. The puppet joints took an hour.

Every time he cosplays Scaramouche, Kuni sits in front of his vanity mirror with a palette of dark shadow and a thin, angled brush that he uses to paint puppet joints onto his own skin.

Knuckles first, every finger, dark, then his wrists, then his belows. He does his shoulders himself too, twisting in the mirror to get the angle right on the backs of them, and the concentration on his face while he does it is almost scary.

He's already head-to-toe in cosplay, minus the hat. As cringeworthy as it is to say, your boyfriend does look like Scaramouche reborn, and it's not just because of how good the clothes look on him, or how invested he is in cosplaying him. He looks exactly like Scaramouche would if he were real and not 3D.

The height… the weight… even his fingers match Scara perfectly. Skinny and long, the puppet joints make him look more biblically real.

He hates wigs, absolutely despises them, and as any person who finds their 'celebrity lookalike', or any 'lookalike' in general, he dyed and cut his real hair to match Scaramouches.

His hair is naturally black, and after an abnormally long hair appointment, the hairdresser was able to cut and style Kuni's hair to match Scaramouches without looking like some botched bowlcut.

"It's not a bowlcut," Kunikuzushi told the hairdresser, probably 4 times, just to get his point clear, "It's a mullet, mixed with a hime-cut in the front, and don't you dare forget the lighter colored streak in the back."

You remember being told that day to stick around, not in the waiting room, but in a chair beside the table your boyfriend was getting his hair done at. You had to get up at least 9 times to reassure Kuni that the hairdresser was getting the back right.

And after that day, after every time he put on his cosplay for this character that he's so obsessed with… he didn't look like your boyfriend anymore.

But you don't really complain.

"It's… acceptable," Kuni says to his reflection, the tiniest praise for the war you just went through, while doing his eyeliner.

You hop off the counter, tossing your hair back, while holding eye contact with his gaze in the mirror, "It's perfect, actually. You're welcome." You poke his arm from behind, giggling at the way he makes a disgusted face in response. "I love you too, you ungrateful man."

He doesn't respond to that; he just walks out of the bathroom and into his room.

He's already in the corner when you step in, adjusting his tripod and ring light, and you know the drill by now. Stay out of frame, stay quiet during takes, and entertain yourself until he's done being internet famous.

You grab your phone off his nightstand and settle onto his bed on your stomach, feet up, pulling up Genshin Impact. It feels like a chore to open this game up now, but you have to, for that stupid free constellation event where you have to complete your commissions and spend 120 resin.

You spawn in Nod-Krai, already moving your joystick to run towards the crafting bench, planning to craft your resin into condensed resin, but to your dismay, you already have 5 crafted resin from the previous days you tried this trick.

Domains it is.

You can hear your boyfriend in the background recording the same TikTok, over and over, trying to get the perfect take while you're teleporting to a random domain. It's annoying, and all you can focus on while you wait for people to join your world.

Once people join your world, and you start the domain, you move on autopilot. You don't really pay attention, probably fighting air every now and then, until a notification pops up from the top of your screen.

Even though you're in a co-up domain, your thumb his the notification before you can even finish reading.

The video loads, and it's what seems to be some sort of POV shot. It's like you're some enemy Lohen just knocked flat, because the view is from below, on the ground. His hand reaches down and grabs you, or the camera's face, dragging you to his height, and you spot his other hand raising a weapon, but you aren't even focused on the weapon… you're focused on the face he makes.

A grin with manic eyes, the expression of someone who doesn't just enjoy violence… someone who's aroused by it.

It happens so quickly that you watch it again, on loop. You watch the jaw grab again, the way he yanks whoever it is upward, the way his grin widens before the hit. You screenshot the maniac grin on the 4th loop… then watch it play through again.

Your thighs press together.

You scroll to the comments after the 7th rewatch, needing to see if everyone's losing their minds as hard as you are.

@scaramouchewho okay so we're all in agreement that lohen is what scaramouche COULD have been if hoyo let him be unhinged, right?

@kuniscaraworshiper everyone in the lohen tag better remember who paved the way. Scaramouche is the ORIGINAL unhinged short king… y'all are so disrespectful

@touchinggrassfearsme i just want lohen and scara to kiss… then me at the same time next… then they can kiss each other again after THEN THE SAME THING AGAIN

@mpreglover6769angie GET PREGNANT GET PREGNANT

You laugh seeing this comment, and when you tap on it, you're left with…

(This comment has been deleted.)

@lohennation BREED ME LOHEN. BREED ME. TEASE ME. USE ME. DEGRADE ME. oh and scara can watch ig… (yes i changed my user because of this video)

@wanderermybeIoved, you people don't know one thing about Scaramouche, and I don't want people talking about him when you clearly don't care about his character development or lore. He's more than just a "hot angry guy." Lohen fans (who just became fans of him less than an hour ago, mind you) wouldn't survive 5 minutes of scara's actual story because their reading comprehension is lower than a 4th grader's due to their goon-rotted brains.

@fatuiworshipper the way Lohen is just Scaramouche if he wasn't busy being sad all the time. he's happy to be evil… that's so hot

You scroll back up and watch the burst animation again. Your thighs squeeze together, and your bottom lip is caught between your teeth. You've watched this video at least 20 times now, and around the 10th time, your underwear became a wet, sticky mess.

"Hey."

You don't hear him, you don't even flinch.

"… Hello??"

Nothing.

"Did you actually die? Should I call someone or check your pulse first?"

You don't hear your boyfriend because you're still on that Lohen video, grinning at some dumb comment of yet another person leaving scaranation for lohennation.

"You've been ignoring me for like ten minutes," Kuni says from across the room, and you can hear the shift in his tone, the way it goes from casual annoyance to genuine irritation, "what is so interesting about your phone that you can't look up for even a second?"

You look up from your phone before he can accuse you of cheating, which technically, in some tiny way… You kinda were.

He's standing by his setup, ring light off, his phone in his hand with his arms crossed. His expression looks like he's in between choosing to be mean about it, or letting it slide. He looks annoyed enough that he won't let it slide, and 10 minutes is a long time, unless he was just exaggerating.

"…Hi." You say, sweet and innocent, still lying on your stomach, still with the phone in your hand as you glance at it just once, like a random comment, before looking back at him, not fully engaged.

His gaze drops to your phone in your hand, then lifts back up to your face. The corner of his mouth lifts with slow, unbelieving amusement, like your delayed little “hi” is almost too stupid to be real. "Welcome the fuck back. Where did you go?"

"Remember Lohen from that one quest in Mondstadt?" You don't wait for a response, voice breathier than intended because your brain is still stuck on that video, "His burst animation just got leaked…"

You watch as your boyfriend's face changes into reluctant curiosity that fights with the irritation of being ignored. He walks over to his bed and drops down next to you. "Really? Show me."

You sit up, holding your phone out, and he just takes it, angling the screen toward himself. You watch his face as the animation plays, how his jaw tightens, almost imperceptibly, and his gaze cuts back to you once it's over. "It's okay." He says, tone devoid of any emotion you can pick up on.

"Just… okay? Kuni. Did you see the grab, the way… the way that the angle is like a POV, like that's you, he's grabbing… the way he just, his hand goes like-" You mimic the way Lohen's hand, holding the weapon, goes from behind and towards who he's about to stab.

Kuni glances at your hand, then back at your face, your phone still in his hand. "Mhm. I saw the exact same video as you." His tone feigns nonchalance.

You drop your hand, continuing to yap while not reading the room, "And the grin… Kuni, the grin? It looks like he's about to-"

"I said I saw it." He hands your phone back, using his own to open TikTok, scrolling through his feed with such focused intensity that it doesn't do a good job of hiding how little he cares about this. "People are going to lose it over this."

"They already are, have you seen the comments?" You're already scrolling through them on your phone, looking for one that doesn't say anything about Scaramouche, but it's practically impossible. "Everyone's saying-"

"I know what they're saying, I don't need to see the comments to know." His thumb flicks through posts, and you can see his jaw working, yet again. "Same shit that infected my feed when Lohen was in that quest, and people barely had info on him. 'Scara's done.' 'We're switching.' Like their loyalty has a shelf life of milk."

He keeps scrolling through his TikTok feed, and annoyingly enough, every video that comes up is about Lohen. He's talking, ranting about character depth versus surface-level hype, something about Scara's arc having actual emotional complexity while Lohen is, "just a boy with a violence kink." He is making good points, but you aren't fully paying attention.

You're still scrolling through Twitter, lying back against the pillows, reposting mindlessly on fan art that already exists of Lohen, and trying not to laugh at the posts comparing Lohen to Scaramouche.

He turns his head to you, and he stops talking, because he notices your attention is elsewhere. You don't notice the sudden silence because your brain is so far inside your phone that the real world doesn't exist right now.

His lips touch your neck, a soft, tiny kiss with the warm press of his mouth against the spot below your ear, and he shifts closer. His hand lands on your thigh, his thumb drawing a slow line along the inside where the hem of your sleep shorts sits.

You tilt your head up slightly, giving him access without giving him your attention, as your gaze is still on your phone. Your body just responds to him on autopilot because of months of this exact pattern, him kissing your neck while you doomscroll, except this time you're scrolling through posts and posts of his… replacement.

His tongue touches the skin at your neck, a quick and wet drag followed by his teeth grazing that same area. His fingers itch higher under your shorts, pushing the fabric up your thigh.

"Kuni, not right now, I'm looking at something-"

He cuts you off with a "Mmhmm," not stopping at all because just a second after, he's sucking on your neck. His fingertips graze the edge of your underwear, tracing the elastic back and forth, back and forth. It's light enough that it could be an accident, but what he's doing to you is clearly intentional.

You're still scrolling even as your boyfriend, in cosplay, is practically making love to your neck, and his fingers… they slide down from the hem of your underwear, to where your slit is, through the fabric.

You let out a soft, quiet, "Mm…" moan, still not looking up. The only reply he gets is the little sound you make and the wetness between your legs.

His middle finger traces your clothed slit in a lazy back-and-forth, that's designed for teasing and nothing else. His mouth is still at your neck, and he bites softly at it while that Lohen video coincidentally pops up on your feed again. Involuntarily, your hips shift up against his hand while your eyes are still glued to the screen.

His fingers slide up from your slit, back up to your waistband. You let out the tiniest whine, but that whine turns into your breath catching when his fingers dip beneath your underwear and make direct contact through your folds.

"You're so soaked," he says against your neck. His tone makes your thumb pause just as you're about to click on the comment section. His cadence shifted into something that sounds less like your boyfriend and more like the boy he's currently cosplaying as. "And it's not because of me. It's hard to believe a pixel on a screen could make you this turned on… but I guess anything's possible with someone like you."

You feel his middle finger circling your clit, slow and teasing, not giving you anything that you want while you watch that video on loop, again. The pattern of it doesn't stop, but the desperation and need to have him stroke you properly makes your hips twitch, and your focus shifts from your phone to his hand, and only his hand, at an alarming rate.

"It must be embarrassing," he starts, the same condescending drawl Scaramouche's voice has, and it fits in his mouth uncannily well, "getting this worked up over a character animation. Over something that can never," the same index that was teasing at your clit pushes inside you, knuckle deep, and you clench around it, "touch you."

He's quick to add a second finger, his ring finger, because one isn't ever enough for you. He curls them upward, finding that spot he mapped ages ago. Your phone screen goes dark from inactivity.

He doesn't leave any achy part of your cunt unoccupied, especially if his thumb is currently being useless. His thumb finds your clit, and he rubs in circles while his fingers curl inside you. The dual stimulation makes your mouth fall open, and your phone falls out of your hand. Your phone hits the side of your stomach and falls down face-first beside you.

"There it is," he says against your skin, pressing a kiss to the mark he left on your neck. "Phone's finally down. Took you long enough."

He pulls his fingers out, and before you can even whine about it, he shifts on top of you, sliding down between your legs. You look down at him, and the visual of Scaramouche slipping under the covers and pulling at the waistband of your shorts is doing something to you that ten replays of Lohen's burst animation could never replicate. Because this is actually real.

He's sliding your shorts down when you mistakenly whimper out, "Kuni…"

He stops, hands pausing on the fabric at your knees. "Mm… no. That's not my name tonight." He pulls the shorts off completely, tossing them wherever without looking in his room, and his fingers hook into your underwear next.

"It's Scaramouche. That's who you're looking at… That's who's touching you. And, that's the only name I want to hear coming out of your mouth. Not Kuni, and definitely not Lohen. If you even try saying his name, I'm cutting your tongue out." He drags your underwear down your thighs, his eyes never leaving your face. "Scaramouche. Understood?"

You nod, too distracted by what he was saying to even realize you're bare from below, and you realize that the moment his mouth is on you.

His tongue drags flat across your clit, and you let out an involuntary, unfiltered moan at the contact. You'd care about his neighbors hearing if his mouth wasn't making you forget that other people exist.

It feels like he's reformatting your brain as he eats you out. Like every lick is deleting thoughts about Lohen and replacing them all with himself. His tongue works on your clit in patterns that make you let out dumb, uncontrollable moans. Two fingers slip inside you without warning, curling against your spot, and you can't help but grab onto his hair, that perfectly styled, dyed Scaramouche hair, and hold on.

Your hips twitch up, grinding into his face while your head tips back. "H-aah… f-fuck… Sca-"

He pulls back from your clit, fingers still working inside you, but at an even faster rhythm, "Louder than that."

You listen, brainless, doing whatever he says, "Scara… Scaramouche, I'm… hah… s-so close…"

He dives back onto your clit, mouth sealed on it, making you cum embarrassingly fast with his fingers curling inside your spongy walls. Your thighs shake around his head, and your grip on his hair tightens as you grind onto his face, clenching around his fingers. He goes slower once the aftershocks are over, and when you finally let go of his hair, completely out of breath, he pulls his mouth off your clit with a wet pop.

He wipes his chin with the back of his hand, the cosplay sleeve dragging across his face from his cosplay. The sight of that is so absurd and so hot that you almost cum again from that visual alone. The puppet joints look slightly faded on the two fingers he was fucking you with, and somehow that makes it worse.

He grabs one of the detached sleeves and slips it off his outfit. You watch him, brain still sluggish from the orgasm, fold it into a thick band, and you furrow your brows, confused. "What are you…"

"Scaramouche wouldn't let you see him lose composure." He slides up from between your legs, wrapping the fabric around your eyes, tying it behind your head before you can even protest. You can't see anything now, just darkness, and the sound of his breathing close to your face. "So you don't get to either."

You feel him move back and settle between your thighs, sliding them apart. You're still so sensitive from your orgasm that feeling his cock suddenly press against you makes an involuntary whimper slip out. He wastes no time slipping in, but he does it slow, stretching you open inch by inch, and you grab fistfuls of his sheets because the fact that you're missing one of your senses is making everything amplified.

"Oh my god…"

"Say my name," he says, and he feels deep enough inside of you that you can't tell how much more of him there is. You only know the stretch, the pressure, and how full you already feel.

A faint moan slips out of you before you manage, breathless, "Scara…"

"Yeah?" He says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice, he knows you can barely think. "Too full to say it properly?"

Your fingers curl helplessly in the sheets. "Sc… Scaramouche…"

He starts moving, and because of the blindfold, every thrust feels amplified tenfold, so much deeper. His hands are gripping at your hips hard enough to bruise. You feel him closer, by your ear, voice still in character, "You think some new character is going to replace me?" He puncuates the end with a hard thrust, and your mouth hangs open with a gasp.

"Some battle maniac with a grin? Pathetic. I've been your favorite since 1.1," another thrust, and it hits you deep, he grinds into that same spot, "and no amount of leaked animations is going to change that."

"I know… hah… I know-"

He pulls back just enough that you feel the loss of him even though he's still inside. Your hips chase him up, a needy whimper spilling out because you don't feel him moving anymore, and you wonder why. You feel his hand leaving your hip to pull the blindfold off your eyes.

Light hits your pupils, and you squint, disoriented, and the first thing you see isn't him. It's your phone, held inches from your face, bright and open on the password screen. In a flash, your phone's unlocked from just your face, and just as fast as that happens, he turns your phone back to him.

"Wha… what are you doing?" You're still catching up, blinking through your vision that's trying to adjust, even more now that a phone was shoved up in your face. He's swiping through your apps with one hand while the other pins your hip to the mattress. His cock is still inside you, not moving at all, and it almost feels painful with how much you're craving him to.

He pulls up Twitter, looking at your feed first before checking your reposts, because of course, the first thing that comes up is someone reposting that Lohen burst animation for the millionth time, like people haven't seen it already. He scoffs, tapping on your profile picture on the side, and looking through your reposts.

"This one says," he starts, scrolling with his thumb, his tone almost bored as he reads your reposts out loud, while he finally starts grinding into you, but it's slow, painfully slow. "I would let Lohen degrade, breed me, use me, and rearrange my insides until I pass out… You liked that one, reposted it from the same account that has your face on it. How dense can you be?"

You face heats up realizing just how embarrassing that is, only after doing it a while ago, "That's… that was just a joke-"

"Let's go to your replies tab and see if you did anything other than mindlessly repost whatever you saw," you watch as his thumb moves across your phone, he shifts his hips forward in a slow grind that makes your breath hitch, "Oh, so you did comment on something… that's it? Three fire emojis and a fucking… crying emoji? That's your contribution to the discourse? Really? Was your brain rotting that badly that you couldn't even type words?"

You don't even try to come up with a coherent response for that, and he doesn't wait for one. He throws your phone somewhere on his bed and leans down, propping himself up on his forearms on either side of your head, and the closeness of him in full cosplay makes your breath catch in your throat.

"You know what's funny to me?" His eyes never leave your face as he rolls his hips, still a slow grind that drags his cock against your walls in such a way that keeps you in between being able to think and not. "You have a cosplayer. An actual, real person who dresses up as your favorite character and fucks you in it. And instead of appreciating that… you're reposting about a character that doesn't even have a release date yet."

A weak protest slips out before you can stop it. "I do appreciate-"

"Do you?" He thrusts hard this time, and it makes your back arch, your hands flying up to grab his shoulders as he continues at the same deep pace, watching your face change with every thrust. "Because I'm literally inside of you in a Scaramouche cosplay right now, and 20 minutes ago you were eye-fucking a burst animation while I was standing 12 feet away."

Your face burns, "That's not…" You swallow, trying to gather a thought that doesn't sound pathetic, "That's not fair, he's just a character, you're-"

"I'm right here." Another deep thrust, his hand slides up to cup the side of your face, tilting it so you're looking directly at him. At the eyeliner you did for him, the contacts, and the hair you even helped style. "And I'm the closest thing to a fictional character you're ever going to get. So maybe," he grinds into your spot, and your eyes roll, "act like it."

Humiliation and want feel like they're tangling so tightly that you can't separate them anymore. You can't even form a proper response for that, only being able to muster out a, "F-fuck… Scara…." as your fingers curl harder into the sheets.

"Mm." He keeps the angle, keeps rolling into that same spot, watching as it makes you go stupider quicker while his thumb traces your cheekbone. "You know what you should repost? A video of this. Me, in cosplay, between your legs. See how many likes that gets compared to a leaked animation."

Your brain decides this is the moment to let something slip. Completely irrational. "A lohen cosplay would probably get more likes because he's… trending." You don't even mean it as a dig; you say it in the normal, supportive tone you always give when he talks about content, while getting dicked down.

And the second those words leave your mouth, everything goes silent. He stops, completely. Cock buried inside you, and his hand on your face tightens. His thumb presses harder into your cheekbone. His expression doesn't change, but his eyes do. It's this flat, cold look you can see even with the contacts, and the silence stretches long enough that you realize what you just did.

You scramble to backtrack, "I didn't mean-"

"No, don't backtrack now," he cuts in, voice eerily calm, tilting his head like he's studying any new reaction you'd make, "You sounded very sure of yourself a second ago. I want the same answer you gave before you realize I didn't like it."

You sink back into the pillows, head shaking, "Scara, you know that's not what I meant…" but you stop at the end when you see the look in his eyes darken.

He lets go of your face and pulls almost all the way out to slam back in, both of his hands gripping on the backs of your thighs, pushing them apart. He's fucking into you at a new pace that's faster and rougher than anything before this, every thrust feeling like a point he's making without words.

"He's an animation," he says between trusts, his voice strained, but he's still in character. "He doesn't feel like this…" A thrust so deep it pushes you closer to the headboard. "He doesn't sound like this." Another one, harder, and the sound that comes out of you is almost unrecognizable.

"And he doesn't know that if he hits this angle," he shifts his hips and nails your spot dead-on, and your vision whites out at the edges completely, "you make that exact face."

Your legs are shaking around his grip, your hands grasping at anything, his shoulders, his arm, the sheets, the only thought in your mind is him, the body between your legs trying to prove a point with his entire being.

Then, your phone lights up next to your head. It's a Twitter notification, something about Lohen, and the timing is so cosmically cruel. He sees it, and before you can even squint to see what it's about, he scoots back, letting your head fall off the pillow. You look at him, confused, completely innocent to the change of position that's about to happen.

His hands leave your thighs to grab at your hips, and in one inhuman motion, he lifts you off the bed almost entirely. Your back leaves the mattress, the entire room feels like it's tilting as he hauls your legs over his shoulders, your full weight being suspended against his body. His hands grip the front of your thighs, your arms scrambling for anything, and they end up gripping at the backs of his thighs. Your head is still on the mattress, and your arms, but everything else is up in the air.

He's about to fuck you upside down.

You yell out of panic, "Wha… SCARA-"

"You were about to check your phone." He says, voice unbothered like he isn't holding you in the air with his dick buried inside of you. "While I'm inside of you… While Scaramouche is inside of you." He adjusts his grip, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs, and slides his hips back before slamming into you hard, forcing himself so deep that you see white. "Do I not have your full attention?"

Even as full, and thought empty as you are, you still try to defend yourself, "You do… hah… You do, I wasn't-"

"You were reaching for it," another hard slam, and you cry out, your nails digging into the backs of his thighs. "Your hand almost moved. Almost. You were going to look at a notification while im fucking you."

He fucks into you, over and over, your legs dangling on his shoulders, the angle hitting something so deep inside of you that your body doesn't know how to process it apart from going completely boneless.

You're limp, even being fucked upside down. Your muscles gave up, and now you're just a body he's holding in the air and fucking into.

Your weight being nothing to him, your pleasure being everything.

"Scara… Scara, oh my god, I can't… f-fuck… I can't-"

"Can't what?" His voice is annoyingly steady, controlled, even though he's holding you up and thrusting into you with a force that should effect both of you, but it seems like you're the only effected one. Moaning sounds that aren't even words anymore, just vowels and air. "Can't think? Good. You shouldn't be thinking. The only thing in your head right now should be my name, and the fact that no pixel on a screen," he thrusts up, sharp, and the sound you make is practically a scream, "has ever made you feel like this."

Even with your mind blank, you can process his words enough to know that he's right. Because he's here, and real, and holding you in the air and fucking the coherence out of your skull. "SCARAMOUCHE- fuck, please… please don't stop-"

His pace only grows faster, his grip on your thighs tightening in such a way that you know it will end in bruises when you wake up tomorrow. You cum with the lower half of your body, suspended in the air. Your body locks up, ankles rolling, feet clenching around his shoulders as the orgasm rips through you in waves so intense that you can't even keep your eyes open, can't even suppress or care for how dumb you sound.

You can do anything except convulse around him while he holds you through it like you weigh nothing.

He cums exactly five seconds after, the way your walls clench around his cock not letting him pull himself back any longer. He buries himself deep with one final thrust up that pins you against his hips. You feel every pulse of it, hot and thick, filling you up as his fingers flex on your thighs.

There's so much that your body can't contain it, even in this position, you can feel some of his cum leak around where he's still inside you, dripping down between your ass cheeks.

He holds you there for a moment, catching his breath and you still catching yours, and then he finally sets you down. He moves back, lowering you, and you bounce back on the sheets, still out of breath, gasping, legs shaking, cum pooling more properly between your thighs now that you aren't in the air.

He's already pulling at the cosplay before his breathing even levels out.

"Finally," he mutters, yanking at the chest piece with the urgency of someone escaping a straitjacket, "I can take this stupid fucking thing off."

The outer layer comes off first, and he gets out of bed to toss it onto his desk chair without looking. Then the arm pieces, what's left of them, since one sleeve is still tied in a crumpled blindfold shape somewhere in the sheets. He pulls the one he's wearing off and throws it on top of the outer layers on the chair.

He's left in the sleeveless undershirt, the tight black one that sits flush against his chest and shows the puppet joints he spent way too long on at his shoulders. The shadow has smudged from the sweat, the edges bleeding where the lines used to be clean.

"I was literally cooking alive in that," he says, working at the fabric that sits on his hips next, "do you know how many layers this cosplay has? About four. Four fucking layers in a room with one fan and a broken AC because Ei cares more about being at work all the time than actually caring about a home she's barely at."

You don't respond because you are, at this moment, a puddle of a human being with no functioning brain cells and shaking legs. You're lying exactly where he put you down, staring up at the ceiling, legs still open because closing them feels like an exercise right now.

He glances at you once the majority of the cosplay is off, just the undershirt and shorts, and he gets quieter. He disappears into the bathroom that's connected to his bedroom and comes back with a warm, damp towel.

He sits on the edge of the bed and pushes your thigh to the side, wiping between your legs without saying anything. His movements are careful, clinical, almost, like the same precision he gives his cosplay goes into this too.

He cleans the cum off your inner thighs, the crease where your thigh meets your hip, folds the towel to the clean side, and gets the rest.

You flinch at the contact, still sensitive, and his other hand presses flat against your lower stomach to keep you still. "Stop squirming."

"But… It's sensitive," you say, finally, voice weak.

"I know it's sensitive. I'm the one who made it sensitive. Stay still."

He tosses the towel onto the bathroom floor when he's done, then goes to his dresser, pulling out a sleep set and underwear that are yours. A cropped top and matching shorts that somehow migrated into his drawer because you're here more than your actual house.

He comes back and slides the underwear up first, lifting your hips with one hand to pull them over your ass. Then, the shorts come next, doing the same motion he did for the underwear. He grabs the top next, and this part requires sitting you up, and you're not cooperative.

You're practically dead weight.

He pulls you up by the arms like a ragdoll, gets the shirt over your head, and guides each of your arms through the sleeves. You keep going limp on purpose, and it's irritating him. "You're not helping," he says, which isn't a helpful remark on his part.

You can't do anything but let out a tired, annoyed sigh, voice moving slowly as you say, "I can't feel my legs, Kuni."

He pauses as he's trying to pull the top down, giving you a sideways look, "That's a you-ca n't-help problem, that's a you-won't-help problem. Your arms should work fine."

You give him a fake, straight smile, shrugging at a languid speed, "They don't, actually. You broke those too when you held me upside down, and I had to hold onto your thighs for dear life."

He scoffs, dropping you back against the pillows, and you sink into them, boneless, dressed, clean, happy that you've trained him well enough to do this much after sex, because it pays off every time.

He pulls the covers out from under you, and this time you actually scoot to give him space to tuck them over your body. He grabs both of your phones and plugs them in, then walks to his closet to take the top off and replace it with a plain black t-shirt, and tugs on a pair of grey sweats. When he's done, he always backs toward the bed to get into the covers beside you, but you stop him.

"Kuni, can you please get me water?" You ask, with a tiny pout.

The exhale he lets out is so deep it could qualify as a controlled breathing exercise. He stands there for a full three seconds, covers still bunched in his hand, staring at you with the expression of a man who wants to only pass out in bed and rot.

"You couldn't have said that before I walked toward the bed?"

You look up, pretending to think, mouth curling up when you glance back at him, "I wasn't thirsty before you walked toward the bed."

He rolls his eyes, his hand coming up to rub his fingers at his temple in annoyance at all of this, "That doesn't even make sense."

You clasp your hands together, pouting, again, putting on a sweet expression just to mess with him further, "Please?"

He drops the covers and leaves the room. You hear his footsteps down the hallway, and they're loud enough that you know he's being loud on purpose.

Because Kuni doesn't make noise when he walks unless he wants you to know he's annoyed.

His house is massive; you spend 99 percent of your time in his room, so you actually get jumpscared every time you leave it. The hallways are long, or probably longer than an apartment floor in general, with marble flooring and clear walls with art on them that his mother picked out and he's never looked at once.

The kitchen is insane. Countertops that stretch for what feels like miles, a center island bigger than your own bed, and appliances that look like they belong in a once luxurious restaurant. Every surface is spotless because the housekeeper comes three times a week, and Kuni is already a clean freak on his own, so the combination creates a kitchen that looks perpetually unlived in.

He opens the cabinet, grabs a glass, fills it from the filtered tap, and when he turns around, his mother is sitting at the island.

She's been there the whole time, apparently.

Ei is on a barstool at the center island, one leg crossed over the other, a glass of red wine in her right hand and her phone in her left. Her hair is long and ink-black, pin-straight, falling over one shoulder, and in the dim kitchen light, she looks less like a person and more like a portrait someone painted and forgot to hang.

She looks up from her phone at the sound of the glass filling.

Her eyes move over him, at the messed-up hair, the contacts he forgot to take out, and the faded puppet joints still visible on his knuckles.

And also the fact that he's getting a glass of water at one in the morning in a post-sex haze that he thinks isn't obvious but is extremely obvious.

"You're still awake," she says, her voice carrying that same low, unbothered tone that makes everything she says sound like an observation.

"You're home," he replies, matching her energy beat for beat, turning off the tap without looking at her. "When did your flight land?"

"Three hours ago." She takes a sip of wine. "I didn't want to interrupt."

The silence that follows is loud. He knows what that means, she knows that he knows, and neither of them will say it directly because everyone in this family treats emotional honesty like it's some disease.

"Right." He grabs the glass and turns to leave as fast as possible.

"Kunikuzushi."

He stops, but he doesn't turn around, his grip on the glass tightening.

"Eat something tomorrow. The fridge is stocked." She pauses to take a sip before continuing, "And take your contacts out before you sleep. They'll irritate your eyes."

He stands there for a second, then another, then another, then walks away without responding. And his footsteps down the hallway are quieter this time. Not on purpose.

He gets back to his room and shuts the door behind him with his foot. He walks up towards the bed and reaches over to hand you the glass. You take it, sitting up slightly, drinking half of it in one go while he stands there watching you like you just made him walk a marathon for a cup of water.

"Happy?" He asks, pulling the covers back.

You roll your eyes and hand him back the glass. He sets it on the nightstand and gets into bed, lying flat on his back. You immediately roll onto his chest like a magnet, your cheek pressing against the cotton of his t-shirt, and you can hear his heartbeat, still a little fast, coming down.

His hand finds your hair, starts that absent, repetitive thing he does, threading his fingers through the strands over and over. You press closer to him, tangling your legs with his under the covers, and his arm tightens around your back.

You close your eyes, and his fingers never stop moving through your hair.

He doesn't tell you he loves you; he never does first. But his thumb traces a slow circle against your scalp, and his breathing evens out underneath you, and he doesn't move even when your weight goes fully dead against his chest.

That's how you know.

You're in your room today, not at your boyfriend's house like you usually are. You do like being in his room and hanging out with him constantly, but it's also constantly exhausting. Some days, you'd just prefer to be… alone.

Your room is the complete opposite of Kunikuzushi's aesthetic. Light beige walls so you can hang up cute pink miscellaneous things on your wall without them clashing. A fluffy, soft, pink bed that used to be a canopy until you woke up to a fat spider next to your face, as if it was their bed too. Plushies… lots of them, on your bed, some kept on a large shelf you bought to store the expensive anime figures Kuni always buys you. Long story short, the general vibe of your room makes you seem like someone whose entire personality is soft and sweet.

You're lying on your stomach on the bed, phone in hand, scrolling through the fallout of the Lohen leak from 3 days ago. The internet has still not calmed down… if anything, it's worse.

@scaranation4LIFE scaranation we STAND. Every character had their tiny moment of fame… our show lasted four years. FOUR. We were even on the news… lohen's gonna last one patch and you're all going to be crawling back

@lohenxscarabeliever i don't want lohen OR scara… i want them BOTH to ruin my life SIMULTANEOUSLY. Why is this so hard to understand

@wanderersfavoritebuttplug scara… I’d never replace you for that sadistic twink (maybe) (we’ll see)

The comments are always talking about the same thing, at least every comment section under a Lohen Twitter post, as the diehard simp, the one who wants Lohen and Scara to fuck each other, the one who wants to cuck Scara in front of Lohen, and the very few actual loyal Scara fans.

… You feel like you're a bit of both.

You're deep in the comments, simultaneously looking at edits of Lohen on TikTok, then taking a Twitter break, then TikTok, when at some strange point, your bedroom door opens.

You don't look up, you assume it's Kuni because your parents aren't home, and you gave him the key ages ago. "Hey, Kuni," you say, still scrolling, legs swinging behind you, "if you're here to yell at me about using your newest Flower Knows palette before you did, it's not that big of a deal-"

You stop because when you look up, what you see is something you'd never, ever expect from a surprise visit from your boyfriend.

Kunikuzushi is standing in your doorway in full-on cosplay. But it's not Scaramouche, or some other male in the game… It's Lohen.

Your phone hits the mattress.

The character you've been losing your mind over for 3 days, the one you've seen on your phone screen a genuinely convincing number of times, is here, in real life, standing in your pink bedroom doorway.

"When did you-" your voice comes out strangled, your mouth feeling dry, and your throat feeling so tight that you cut yourself off. Your eyes scan the cosplay, again and again, confused at why he didn't tell you about this. Especially ordering a unique cosplay of a character that hasn't even fully come out. "When… when did you order this??"

He grins, a toothy, sharp-eyed grin that looks nothing like Scara's smirk. It's so strangely similar to the expression Lohen would make, and you wonder if he's spent the last 3 days practicing for this.

"I've been tracking you all day," he says, and his voice is different than normal, more confident, louder, less… restrained on what's deemed as good. "You've been hard to pin down."

He crosses the room, and your body does something it doesn't do with Kuni. It tenses out of something close to fear, but closer to not knowing what's coming next. His hand grabs the front of your tank top and yanks you off the bed. You yelp in a way that's higher, more startled, more genuinely caught off guard than anything Scara has gotten out of you in months.

"Nervous?" He questions, his grin widening, and his fists twist in your shirt, pulling you closer, until your chest is against his. He can feel your heartbeat… at least you assume he can, because you can hear it going haywire through your ears to the point that you'd believe it's audible even if he wasn't this close.

You deny because you hate admitting things to him when he's acting smug, even though anything you could say would be utterly pointless, as your face and the way you're barely moving prove his point way too well. "I'm not nervous…" You try a distraction, any, "Are you really wearing a wig, Kun-" but it gets cut off quicker than you can even finish the last word.

"Your heart feels like it's about to explode out of your chest." He leans in, his mouth next to your ear, and his voice drops, but he still keeps the edge of it in character, "What's different? You let Scaramouche do whatever he wants to you. But Lohen shows up and suddenly… You can't even talk?"

You knit your eyebrows, staggering to say anything that sounds like you're not any less dumb, "That's… it's different, you're usually-"

"Usually what? Predictable?" He pulls back to look at you, and you glance up and down at his cosplay once more, and it's even more annoyingly perfect up close. You seriously don't know how he does it; he even looks good in a wig, even though he hates them. "You know every move Scaramouche makes before he makes it. You're comfortable with that, and that's boring." He says it like an insult, and his grin drops suddenly, his eyes not leaving you once as he says, "I'm not comfortable. Are you scared of me?"

You answer a simple, "No." But the way you still haven't moved on your own since he appeared at your door proves without words otherwise.

"Liar." He shoves you, and you fall back before you can catch yourself on the bed, bouncing on the pink sheets, your tank top riding up slightly in the process. "Your voice had the tiniest crack in it."

He's on top of you before you can sit up, his knee between your thighs, his hand going to your jaw… and he does it.

The burst animation.

His fingers close around your jaw as he lifts your face toward his, slow, and the grin is right there, a perfect replica of the video you've watched on your screen more than 100 times.

"There's my favorite prey," he says, holding the pose for three seconds, and instead of reaching his arm back and stabbing you, he leans in to kiss you.

It's violent, that's the only word to describe it. Non ceremonial, just teeth, tongue, and a lot of force by him. His hand is still gripping your jaw, controlling the angle, and also making sure you don't pull away so soon. You make a sound into his mouth that's between a moan and a whimper, that's even more vulnerable than anything you've made during sex when he cosplays as Scaramouche.

He pulls back, unbuckling one of the belts on the cosplay, a strap that's a part of Lohen's design, and he wraps it around your wrists, binding them above your head against the bed.

"Every battle maniac needs a sparring partner," he says, tying the knot with one hand while the other shoves your tank top up above your breasts. "And you looked at me like you volunteered."

He strips your shorts, then your underwear, and he doesn't bother about being sweet with it. He yanks them down your legs and throws them somewhere behind him, and then his hands grip the backs of your thighs, and he pushes them up toward your chest.

Mating press, that's what he's doing.

Your knees are at your shoulders, your hips are tilted up, and he's on the bed, kneeling over you. His weight is driving your thighs down, folding you in half. Your wrists are bound above your head; you're just completely open and trapped.

"L.. Lohen…" You whimper out in the voice of both someone in awe, and in the tiniest fear of what's coming next.

"Hmm." He unzips his pants, frees his hard cock from his underwear, which he slides down just enough, and positions himself at your entrance, and he pushes in.

The first thrust is the full length of him burying himself deep inside you in one stroke; the angel of the mating press makes it feel deeper than it should. His cock presses against your cervix, and the sound that leaks out of you is closer to a sob than a moan.

"AH- oh fuck oh fuck oh-"

"Too much?" He asks, and his grin, that fucking grin, is right there, his face inches from yours because the mating press puts him on top of you… over you, covering you entirely.

"N-no, just- hah-" You get cut off with the way he pulls back and slams back in, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, before just fully closing.

"Not convincing." He pulls back, again, slamming into you harder than the last one, like he's powering up his thrusts, and your back tries to arch off the bed, but his weight is pressing you flat, and you have nowhere to go. You feel his hands at your face. "Your eyes are watering."

You open your eyes back up to look at him, head shaking, even though you do feel something hot and wet sliding softly down your cheeks. "You're lying, they're n-not-" You're studdering from the way he's repeditely fucking into you, especially hitting your deeper spots on purpose when you try speaking, but he cuts you off anyway.

"They are." He leans down and licks a tear off your cheekbone. The act is so different from the way he's currently fucking into you, brutally, and you're turning incoherent faster than ever, moans spilling out uncontrollably as the sound of his hips plaping against your ass fills the room.

"You cry for Scaramouche because it feels good. You're crying for me because you don't know what I'm going to do next." Both of his hands leave your face; one goes back onto your thigh, the other finds your throat. "And that scares you… Doesn't it?"

His fingers close around your neck, and he doesn't choke you the same way Kuni does during normal sex. This version is different, new, something you've never felt before. Lohen's choke. His fingers press into the sides of your throat, squeezing the muscles, not your windpipe, but the tissue around it. The difference, the way this feels new, is because it feels like it's designed to hurt, not to just cut off air. The pain is sharp, and you can still breathe, technically, but every inhale aches, and the compression makes the blood rush to your head in a way that amplifies every sensation that a blindfold never could.

You can't move your hands, even as they itch to grab or instinctively hold at his wrists, you're reminded that they're bound together by his belt. Your moans just get more amplified thrust after thrust after squeeze, "Nghh- Lohen… hah…"

"You can barely even say my name." He squeezes harder, his thumb pressing into the hollow of your throat, and the pressure pushes you right to the edge of too much. "Scaramouche gets full sentences out of you… Full moans… Full 'please'. But me?" He thrusts deep, grinding, holding himself inside you while his hand tightens on your throat. "I get syllables… Half-words… or just plain denial over anything I say. You're so nervous you can't even beg for anything properly."

He fucks you into the mating press until your thighs are shaking against his hands, and your voice is hoarse from the sounds he's pulling out of you. His hand stays on your throat. The pressure of his squeeze fluctuates a lot, from him tightening when he thrusts hard, loosening when he grinds slowly, a cycle of both pain and relief that keeps you permanently on the edge of too much without ever crossing into too much.

Because Kuni knows your body, he knows how much it can take. He pushes you close enough to passing out that your vision darkens at the edges, your mouth falls open, your eyes lose focus, and then he loosens his grip and lets the blood rush back.

And the gasp you take is almost an orgasm on its own. "Please- hah… please, I can't… too much-"

"You can handle it, you just don't know it yet." He squeezes your throat and fucks into you hard enough that a plushie falls off the bed. The grin on his face is still, still beautifully intact, and it's the most terrifyingly perfect thing you've ever seen from this close.

"You know what's funny? You were scared when I walked in. Nervous. Couldn't even talk to me." He leans down until his lips brush yours, his hand still on your throat. "But you're not trying to stop me, are you? Your hands are tied, your legs are pinned, and we have a safeword you could've used at any point, and you won't, because you and I both know this is exactly the type of 'too much' that you crave."

You cum with his hand on your throat and his cock buried so deep you can feel him in your stomach. The orgasm hits different in a mating press, so much more intense. Your walls clench around him in rhythmic pulses that you feel in your entire pelvic floor, and he fucks you through it, his pace not slowing, his hand not loosening.

And by the time the aftershock fades, you're boneless, twitching, and making sounds that are barely human.

He cums inside you, you feel the heat of it, thick, pulsating, his hips pressing flush against yours and staying there while his cock throbs. His hand finally loosens on your throat, and his forehead drops against yours.

His breathing is ragged, and it's the first time you've ever heard him lose the composure of the character, and for one second, between the last pulse and first exhale, it's just Kuni.

Then the Lohen grin slides back. He stays inside you for a moment more, his cock still twitching with the last of it, before pulling out in one motion that makes your body clench around nothing.

You feel the immediate emptiness, the warmth of his cum already starting to leak, but you don't get to process that because his hands are on your hips and he's flipping you.

Your stomach hits the mattress, your face presses into your pillow, and the shift of his cock inside you during the rotation makes a wet, obscene sound that you both pretend not to hear. Your wrists are still bound with the belt, and they're now pinned beneath you. You feel him reach under you, fingers finding the leather, working the buckle loose with one hand, while the other grips your hip to keep you from sliding forward.

The belt falls away from your wrists, you roll them instinctively, flexing your fingers, and before you can even appreciate the freedom, you feel the belt loop around your neck instead.

He pulls it taut from behind. He doesn't choke you with it just yet; he just lets it sit snug against your throat with his fist gripping the trailing end like it's some sort of handle.

"Ass up," he says, and you barely get your knees under you before he gives up on waiting and pulls your hips back toward him.

He slams in at a rough, fast, punishing pace. The sound of his hips against your ass is echoing off your room in a rhythm that makes your plushies at the edge of the bed vibrate, causing a couple of them to fall.

He uses the belt as a way to anchor his thrusts while he rails into you with a force that has your fingers twisting in your sheets, and your neck being forced to arch back.

"Fu- oh my g-god, Loh-" You can't even finish his name, it just dissolves into a broken moan as he hits your spot from this angle. The deepness of the backshots makes your toes curl against the bedsheets.

He keeps going, his pace not slowing down at all, and you're too far gone that you barely register it when his rhythm stutters for a second, especially when you hear him mutter something under his breath that doesn't sound like Lohen.

"This stupid fucking…"

Your brain is somewhere between your legs; the only sound that's audible and coherent to you is the sound of his hips against your ass, and your endless moans.

He thrusts hard, and you let out a whimper, your fingers flexing on the sheets, and your feet coming up, clenching, then dropping again. But between the next few thrusts, you catch pieces of something that doesn't match the character he's trying to play.

His voice sounds like it's shifting, not into Scara like it's some muscle memory he has, but into Kuni, your boyfriend, sounding genuinely irritated about something that has nothing to do with sex.

"I swear to god, it keeps sliding," he mutters, and his grip on the belt loosens for a second as his other hand does something behind you that you can't see. He does another hard thrust, and your face falls against the pillow now that he isn't yanking on your neck. But he doesn't pull you back, choke you, or do whatever you expect him to do.

He complains.

"This is the last time I'll wear a wig. The last fucking time. I told you I hate these things and you always ignore it and tell me to suck it up when it's a character that isn't him-" a thrust that makes your spine arch, "and now I have gross, synthetic hair scratching at my face, and I'm going to lose my mind."

You're barely processing any of this, still, it all sounds like fragments to you that don't make sense because of the thick haze of being fucked into your mattress.

He grunts, clear frustration, and you hear something that sounds like a clip, or whatever mechanism that's keeping his wig attached to his actual hair, and his pace slows down enough that curiosity overtakes the pleasure for one stupid second.

You turn your head.

And it's Kuni behind you, one hand still on the belt at your neck, and the other holding the Lohen wig that he just pulled off his head. His real hair is back, dark indigo, messy, slightly matted from the wig cap he also tore off. He hasn't noticed you looking yet; he's too busy glaring at the wig with genuine contempt.

He's out of character, fully, completely, for once mid-fuck. He never breaks character, and something comes over you… Maybe it's the absurdity of the visual, maybe it's because you're fucked stupid enough that impulse control is just completely gone.

Maybe it's because the opportunity is just too perfect to pass, and you've seen that TikTok audio one too many times.

You gasp, loud, dramatic, your voice coming out in that exaggerated, scandalized tone that you know he's going to hate, "he's BALD. He's bald, and he's torturing people who have HAIR!"

The silence that follows lasts exactly one and a half seconds.

His eyes snap to you, and you're looking at him over your shoulder, half of your face pressed into the pillow, and you're grinning. That kind of stupid, shit-eating grin that you know is about to have severe consequences.

His expression goes through several stages in rapid succession. Disbelief comes first, processing it comes second, then recognition of the reference, and on the last and final stage, something dark and focused appears that makes your grin falter just slightly.

He throws the wig, and it hits your vanity mirror, sliding off somewhere that you don't care to watch, and his now-free hand shoves your head back down into the pillow. It's not gentle. His palm is flat against the back of your skull, pressing your face into the fabric, and your giggle gets muffled by cotton.

"You think that's funny?" His voice drops back into Lohen's, but it's rougher now, meaner, the edge of genuine irritation soaking through the character because you made a dumb joke while he was inside of you. "You think you're clever?"

You're trying to respond, but your face is pressed into a pillow, and his hand is keeping it there. What comes out next is a muffled, "Mm srrhyy-" that dissolves into a yelp when he slams into you so hard your knees slide forward on the sheets.

"Every prey animal thinks it's funny right before the teeth close." He fucks into you at a pace that's brutal, and way faster than anything before. Each thrust is showing you further into the mattress while his hand keeps your head pinned, and the belt around your neck pulls tight from the motion. "You want to make jokes? I'll give you something to scream about instead."

His other hand leaves the belt to grab at your hip, yanking you back onto his cock with every thrust, and the force of being pushed down and pulled back simultaneously has you making sounds into the pillow that are just broken, raw sounds. Your hands claw at the sheets above your head, your back arching down, while your ass stays up, and you can feel his fingers digging bruises into your hip while the belt drags against your throat.

"Mmph- wait, f-fuck, I'm sorryyy, I was k-kidding-" you manage between thrusts, your words slurring against the pillow, saliva starting to collect at the corner of your mouth because your jaw won't close properly. "Loh-hen, please, 'm sorry, I didn't m-mean-"

"You have a funny way of apologizing," he grinds out, and his hand on the back of your head shifts, his fingers curling into your hair and pulling your face just barely off the pillow, enough that your moans aren't muffled anymore. "Usually, people apologize without laughing. You're still smiling about it, I can hear it in your voice."

He's not wrong. You are still smiling, with tears in your eyes, getting absolutely destroyed because the image of your boyfriend ripping off a wig mid-sex with that look on his face will live in your brain rent-free forever. "Liar… 'M not smiling-"

"You are." A thrust so deep your smile actually drops because your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open around a moan that's more of a wail. "There… fixed it."

His other hand releases your hair and goes to his own head. You can feel the shift in his movements, slightly distracted, one-handed thrusts that are still devastating but less focused as he runs his fingers through his real hair, fixing it through the vanity mirror on the far side of your room.

Because even while he's railing at you, Kunikuzushi will not be caught dead with bad hair.

He's multitasking, fucking you into the mattress with one hand on the belt, and styling his hair with the other… the worst part is, he doesn't even slow down.

He pulls the belt back just enough that you're forced to arch your spine, the pressure on your throat lifting your chest slightly off the mattress, and the angle change makes his cock hit differently, shallower but dragging against your front wall with every stroke, and the sound that comes out of you is embarrassingly close to a squeal.

"Ah ah AH, oh m-my god, oh my god, right there, don't- nghhh don't move from that, please plea-hease..." Your words are tumbling out in a slurred mess, your brain is completely out of your control, and your hips are pushing back against his on their own because the angle is too good.

He cums with a groan, pressing into the back of your shoulder, biting down on your skin through a moan he clearly didn't want to let out. You feel his cock pulse inside you, the heat spreading, and his hips grind forward in small, lazy rolls as he empties everything. His hand goes slack on the belt, and his forehead drops against the space between your shoulder blades.

He stays there for a second, breathing, then he pulls back, letting go completely of the belt, and you fall forward because he was the one pulling your practically limp body against him. Your ass is up in the air, and you feel him slide out, and the gush of cum that follows is immediate. It's thick, warm, spilling out of you and down between your thighs.

He sits back and watches it, you know, because you hear the sheets shift, and you can tell by the way he doesn't move or speak, just watches the mess he made ooze out of you.

His thumb presses against your entrance at the rim, and more cum leaks out around the pressure, sliding down in a slow trail toward your clit. "Look at that," he murmurs, his voice back in character for Lohen, in an amused, fascinated tone. "You can't keep any of it in."

His other hand comes up and spreads you open with his thumb and forefinger, holding your folds apart, and you can feel the cool air hit the mess inside you. You feel more of his cum spill out from being exposed. You bury your face deeper into the pillow because the visual you can't even see is somehow still the most embarrassing part of this entire night.

"Lohen, don't just… stare at it-" You mumble into the pillow, voice a bit pitchy as your thighs try to close, but his knee is in between your legs before you can even try to hide.

"Why not?" His thumb traces through the cum leaking down your folds, collecting it, spreading it in a slow circle around your clit, and your hips jerk at the contact because you're so overstimulated. "It's mine, I put it there, and I'll stare at it for as long as I want."

He leans down, and you feel his breath warm against your swollen, sensitive skin. Then you feel his tongue, a single slow lick from your clit up to your folds that collects everything in its path. You let out a sound that's halfway between a moan and a sob, your fingers crushing at the sheets. His mouth seals around your clit and sucks one, hard, before pulling off with a wet pop that's so loud it echoes.

"Ahh- hhah, that's... you c-can't just do that and stop..." You whine, your hips chasing his mouth, but he's already sitting up, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

"I can do whatever I want." He says, like it's a fact, and his thumb pushes inside you lazily, scooping cum out and watching it drip off his finger before sliding it back in. "And right now I want to watch you try to keep it together while I play with the mess I made."

He does this for longer than is reasonable. Sliding his finger in, pulling it out with cum on it, pressing his thumb against your clit, watching you flinch and twitch and moan into the pillow while your body can't decide if it wants more or if it wants him to stop.

When you finally lift your head enough to look back at him, your vision is blurry, and your cheeks are wet, and your hair… let's not talk about that. But his hair, however…

It's perfect.

His actual hair, styled in Scaramouche's cut, falls over his forehead in a way that makes him look like a character rendered by someone who accidentally released him into the real world. He fixed it while he was fucking you, which means at some point of the most brutal backshots of your life, your boyfriend was simultaneously running his fingers through his hair to make sure it looked good.

And it does, it looks like Scaramouche wearing Lohen's clothes, the dark blue and silver of the cosplay framing his face differently than Scara's outfit does, and the combination of his real hair with Lohen's costume is somehow hotter than either one on its own.

"Your hair…" You start, breathless, head tilting, staring at him.

"I know." He doesn't elaborate, and for a second you did forget just where his fingers still are, but then you get instantly reminded when his thumb circles your clit again. His expression is annoyingly smug for someone who was complaining about a wig 4 minutes ago.

He slides back into you without warning, and you gasp, your head dropping back down, because you're still so unbelievably sensitive. Even though he did slurp some of it out, you still have his cum inside of you, and the re-entry just pushed every bit of the leftovers deeper. He does exactly two, slow thrusts from behind, enough to hear the wet sound of it, and enough to feel you clench around him involuntarily, and then he moves.

His hand wraps the belt tighter around your neck and pulls backward toward him. Your upper body lifts off the mattress as the leather digs into your throat. And at the same time, as if he's some pro multitasker, his other hand hooks under your thigh, and hauls you up.

The room tilts as he rearranges your body like you're a doll getting repositioned on a shelf.

He sits back on his heels, then further, his legs extending toward the foot of the bed, and he pulls you down onto his lap with your back against his chest. His cock is still inside you, and the angle of his cock in your folds shifts as gravity does the work of seating you fully onto him. Your weight pushes him impossibly deep.

"Oh my- f-fuck..." Your head falls back against his shoulder, your mouth open, eyes unfocused on the ceiling. You can feel him everywhere. The depth of this position, your full weight on his lap, is the kind of full that makes your brain actually go blank.

The belt is still around your neck. He grips the loose end in one fist, his other hand settling on your hip, and he snaps his hips up.

It's different from behind, and the mating press, and just any position he's ever tried with you. Every thrust pushes up into you while your own weight pushes down. The collision of both forces means he's hitting your cervix with almost every stroke. The belt pulls at your throat in time with his rhythm, and it's like a constant tug that keeps you slightly alert. He's using it as a leash while he fucks up into you.

"Lohen… Lohen, oh my g-god, that's so… hhh…" Your hands grip his thighs behind you for leverage, your nails pressing crescent moons into his skin through the dark fabric of the cosplay pants. Every thrust forces a sound out of you that you didn't choose. The sound ranges from breathy moans to hiccuped whimpers to full, unfiltered whines that bounce off your bedroom walls.

"Mm, good girl… Keep saying my name just like that." He says against the shell of your ear, his grin pressing into your hair, and his hips don't slow down at all while his free hand leaves your hip to cup your breast, squeezing it through your bunched-up tank top.

Then, suddenly, the pace changes. It slows like someone pressing on the brakes. The frantic upward thrusts melt into something grinding, deliberate, circular. His hips roll instead of slamming. His hand on the belt adjusts, and you can feel the leather pulling higher on your throat, the pressure shifting from the side of your neck to the front, directly on your windpipe, cutting your air down. It makes the room tilt and your head go light.

"Lohen is fun. I'll give him that."

Your walls clench around him so hard that you feel his breath catch, a tiny fracture in his composure that he covers immediately. The shift from Lohen's energy to Scara's is like someone swapped an entire soundtrack mid-song, same instruments but a completely different vibe.

"But fun is temporary." His hips roll in that slow, calculated grind that's purely Scaramouche. The one that doesn't just find your spot but sits on it, presses into it, with the exact amount of pressure needed to make your eyes cross. "Chaos without control is just noise."

He thrusts so deep that your vision goes white at the edges and your mouth opens around a shameless sound you can't hold back. "I'm not noise." He pulls the belt tighter, your air growing thinner as your head feels floaty and warm. "I'm the only voice in your head that stays."

"Scara…" It comes out of your mouth before he can ask for it, before he can demand it, your body just defaulting to the name it knows and has moaned out more times than you can count. Just the same as muscle memory.

"There she is." His voice sounds satisfied in a way that Lohen's never was. It's settled, fully sure, like something just got confirmed that he already knew. His thumb traces the edge of the belt for exactly one second.

Then his pace goes feral, the leash yanks tight, and you can feel the grin return against the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin. The whiplash of Scara's controlled grind slamming into Lohen's chaos makes your entire body jerk against his chest.

Then he goes back to Scara, slow, precise, the belt adjusting to hit your windpipe just like before, and your vision goes soft and dreamy.

Then Lohen, again, fast and reckless, the belt pulling to the sides, sharp and painful. Your vision snaps back, too clear… too much.

Then Scara.

Then Lohen.

The switches accelerate, and you're caught between two different rhythms that you don't even have time to get used to either one before it switches back and forth, and you're left shaking, trembling, your thighs quivering helplessly on either side of his.

"You feel so fucking good-" you can hear Lohen's signature grin in his tone, his hips snapping up hard enough that you bounce on his lap, "You think you can handle more?"

And then, like a light to a switch, Scara's back, his thrusts slowing into a grind that feels torturous. "Of course you can't… You never could. You just pretend."

"Mm… mmnhh, I c-cant, it's too much," you're babbling, the words coming out in disconnected fragments that don't form a single coherent thought, "both of you at the s-same time… I can't… my brain… can't…"

Your body is trying to process two characters and one cock, and one belt on your throat that keeps changing how tight and how rough it's being pulled, and the gravity pinning you down, and his hands on you everywhere. "Please jus- hha, pick one, p-please, I can't think when you keep switching, I-"

"No." It doesn't sound like either character he's playing as he says that, almost himself. "You don't get to pick, you get both."

You cum on the fault line. On the exact millisecond where Lohen's chaos collides with Scara's control. The two rhythms are crashing together inside your body like a wave hitting a wall. The orgasm rips through you so hard that your vision actually blacks out for a second.

Your walls seize around him in rhythmic, violent clenches, your back arching against his chest, the belt pulling taut as your body contorts, and the sound you make is raw, unformed, the kind of noise a person makes when their brain short-circuits.

He cums with you, his groan is buried in the crook of your neck as his teeth bite down on your shoulder. The belt goes slack in his hand, and his hips stutter up as he fills you again. You feel every pulse of it, hot and thick, and his hands grip your hips hard.

His breathing is ragged against your neck, not in character, just Kuni, just like before, catching a breath he doesn't need to catch because the adrenaline is still making his body do human things.

He lets go of the belt and unloops it from your neck. The leather slides off your skin, leaving a warm, raw line that you'll see in the mirror tomorrow. His hands settle on your hips, gentle, all the urgency gone.

He turns you around, rotating you by your hips without pulling out. Your legs swing around until you're facing him, straddling his hips. When your eyes meet his, it's your boyfriend looking at you, Kuni, with his makeup smudged, his real hair messy and falling into his eyes, wearing another character's clothes with his own face underneath.

He grinds up into you, slow, not thrusting, just rolling his hips with his cock still inside you, his cum still inside, and the wet sound fills the quiet room.

He kisses you, a slow kiss where his hand cups the back of your neck. His tongue slides against yours, and your hands find his face, holding his jaw the same way you hold it when you do his eyeliner. Your fingers on his cheekbones, your thumbs at the corners of his mouth… the grip is so familiar that your chest aches with it.

He pulls out, the gush of everything between you spills onto his thighs, and you whimper at the loss, your hips chasing him involuntarily, still kissing him, before settling.

He leans back, lies flat, and looks up at you. "Sit on my face." He instructs, his hands already going for his bottoms, shoving the waistband down with both hands, lifting his hips, and kicking the pants and underwear off in one motion that sends them somewhere on the bed. He settles back onto the mattress with his cock resting against his stomach and the rest of Lohen's cosplay still on his upper half.

You're still on top of him, and you start to move toward his face, swinging your leg over to straddle his chest, and just as you're about to lower yourself down facing the wall, he stops you.

"Other way." His hands catch your hips, holding you in place before you can settle. "Face my cock, not the headboard."

You turn, shifting on your knees so you're facing his legs instead, and the second your thighs are on either side of his face, his hands pull you down. He doesn't ease you into it, his fingers dig into your hips and yank you flat on him. His mouth meets your cunt like he's been starving for it. His tongue is on you immediately, flat and broad, licking through the mess of his cum and yours that's still leaking, and the groan he lets out against your folds vibrates through your entire lower half.

"Ah- oh my god, Loh-" Your hands brace against his stomach, fingers splaying across his chest, your body jerking at the contact because you're still so overstimulated that even his breath against you would be too much, let alone his entire mouth sealed to your cunt like he's trying to milk you dry.

He doesn't let up; his tongue pushes between your folds, lapping at the cum he left inside you, alternating between long drags up your clit, and pointed flicks that make your thighs clamp around his head. His hands keep your hips pinned to his face, and every time you try to lift yourself even slightly because it's too much, he pulls you back down harder.

You look down past his stomach, past his lips, and his cock is right there. Hard again, flushed at the tip, twitching every time you moan. It looks helpless, which is a stupid word to use for a dick, but that's what it looks like.

Just lying there… hard… neglected, pulsing at nothing while his mouth does all the work on you. The visual of that all, combined with the way his tongue just circles your clit makes your mouth water and your body move on its own.

You lean down, lips pressing against the tip, soft, barely any contact, and you feel his hips twitch upward at even that little touch. You open your mouth wider, about to take him in, settling your weight forward onto your forearms on either side of his hips, and then his hands move.

They leave your hips, and you feel them slide down your back, his arms wrapping around your torso, his palms pressing flat against your shoulder blades from behind, and before you can even register the shift in grip, he lifts you.

Your knees leave the mattress, your thighs slide up his shoulders until they're hooked over them, his arms anchored around your back. You aren't straddling his face anymore; you're suspended above him, upside down, your entire lower body held up by his arms, and your upper body hangs between his legs with his cock directly in front of your face.

"KUNI- what the HELL-" Your hands scramble for something to hold, and the only thing available is his back, his sides, your fingers digging into whatever part of him you can reach. "Stop putting me upside down!! How are you even this strong??"

He ignores you, his mouth is still on your cunt like the position change was nothing, like rearranging your entire body didn't interrupt the rhythm of his tongue.

Your thighs are wrapped around his shoulders, your calves pressed against the sides of his head, and his arms are locked around your lower back and hips, creating a cage of muscle that keeps you from falling. Your stomach is pressed against his chest, your breasts squished between your body and his, and your face is hovering directly over his cock with your hair hanging down.

He doesn't pause to let you adjust; his tongue pushes inside you from below, curling, and the moan that rips out of you vibrates against his inner thigh because your mouth is right there, inches from his cock, and you can't even hold back the sound.

You take him in your mouth because his cock is right there, hard, flushed, leaking from the tip, and this is the only logical response you can think of.

Your lips close around the head, and you can hear, feel, his groan vibrate against your clit from below. The sensation travels through you, making your thighs tighten around his shoulders, and you take him deeper in response, your jaw stretching as you slide down his shaft.

His hips start moving, and he's fucking up into your mouth with thrusts that push his cock past your tongue and into the back of your throat. The angle of being upside down makes your gag reflex hit differently, sharper, your throat constricting around him with every push.

"Mmph-" You gag around him, saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth and running up toward your nose because gravity is working against you, and your eyes water as he pushes in deep enough that your lips press flush against his base.

He pulls your hips down against his face at the same time, grinding your cunt onto his mouth, and the dual sensation of his tongue on your clit and his cock in your throat creates a never-ending loop.

Every sound you make around him vibrates through his cock and makes his groan against you, and every groan he makes against you vibrates through your clit and makes you moan louder, and the cycle just keeps building on itself until neither of you is making sounds that qualify as human.

Your hands grip the backs of his thighs, nails biting into his skin, your only anchor while the rest of you is suspended in the air, getting destroyed from both ends. His arms tighten around your back whenever your body jerks too hard, keeping you steady, and the strength required to hold you like this while simultaneously eating you out and thrusting into your mouth is something you'll think about later, when you have brain cells to think with.

His tongue circles your clit and then seals over it, sucking hard, and your entire body arches in his grip. Your moan around his cock is muffled and obscene, a wet, gargled sound that would be embarrassing if you had any shame left, and the vibration of it makes his hips stutter up so hard you choke.

"Mmngh-" Spit drips down your chin, or up your chin technically because you're upside down, and his cock slides out of your mouth for a second while you cough and gasp, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his shaft.

He doesn't give you a break. His mouth doesn't leave your cunt, his tongue pressing harder, faster, relentless, and your mouth finds his cock again through the haze, taking him back in because even choking on him feels better than the alternative of not having him in your mouth.

His hips roll up in longer strokes now, less frantic but deeper, and you can feel the tension building in his thighs, the muscles tightening under your fingers. His arms squeeze around your back, pulling your hips down harder against his mouth, and his tongue works your clit in tight, focused circles that are designed to break you.

Everything builds at the same time. His cock pulsing heavier against your tongue, your walls clenching against his mouth, the pressure in your core climbing toward something massive, and his breathing getting faster against your cunt, his groans getting louder, less controlled, desperate in a way he only gets when he's close.

You cum first, barely, by maybe a second.

Your walls seize, and your thighs clamp around his shoulders, and the orgasm crashes through you in a wave so intense your jaw locks around his cock. The constriction of your throat, squeezing around him, plus the vibration of your moan, plus the way your entire body shakes in his grip, is what sends him over.

He cums in your mouth with a groan so deep you feel it in your spine. His hips push up one final time, his cock pulsing thick against your tongue, and you swallow around him because there's nothing else to do in this position, the cum sliding down your throat (or up, gravity is still confusing) while his tongue works you through the last aftershocks.

His arms loosen, not all at once, because if he did, you'd drop violently onto the bed. He eases the tension gradually, lowering your hips back toward the mattress, and you let his cock slip from your mouth with a wet sound that you're too brain dead to be embarrassed about.

"Put me down," you mumble against his thigh, your voice wrecked, your arms shaking. "Please, Kuni, put me down before I die in this position, and you have to explain it to my parents."

He lowers you down carefully, his hands guiding your hips and legs until your back is flat on the mattress beside him. Your head is at the foot of the bed, and your feet are near the pillows, but you don't really care because you're horizontal and alive, and that's enough.

He sits up, looks at you sideways on the bed, completely destroyed, and he doesn't say anything. He just moves you, his hands sliding under your back and your knees as he repositions you properly to put your head up against the pillows where it belongs.

He's quiet when he cleans you up this time, zero commentary about you squirming, no dry remarks about sensitivity, just the warm cloth from the bathroom, careful movements between your legs while his other hand stays on your hip to keep you still when you flinch.

He brings new clothes from your dresser, a pair of underwear, which goes on you first, slides up your legs, then shorts, then a top he pulls over your head and feeds through your arms without asking for your cooperation because he's already learned you won't give it.

He doesn't talk the whole time, which is unusual, because Kuni always has something to say, always has a complaint or a remark or a correction. But right now he's just doing it quietly, focused, tucking the hem of your top down with his fingers before standing up and walking toward your closet.

He changes into the pajama pants and black shirt he keeps in your drawer, and he pulls the Lohen cosplay off in pieces as he does it, dropping each part onto the chair by your desk.

"I'm never wearing that thing again," he says, pulling the top layer of Lohen's outfit off his shoulders with a grimace, his tone flat and final. "Whoever designed this character hates the human body. It feels like it's over 6 layers, especially with the long-sleeve, the cape thing… everything." He drops the last piece and kicks it under the chair. "Scara's cosplay isn't even that heavy because Scara was designed by someone with common sense."

You watch him from the bed, half-lidded, sinking into the pillows, your body so heavy that you feel like you're melting into your own mattress.

He walks back and pulls the covers up, sliding in beside you without ceremony. The second he's horizontal, you're already moving toward him, pressing your face into his chest, your hand curling into the front of his shirt, and his arm wraps about your back.

He kisses your forehead, soft, and then the bridge of your nose when you lift your face up enough, then the corner of your mouth. It's small, quiet presses of his lips against your skin that feel nothing like Scaramouche or Lohen. These are Kuni kisses, the ones he gives when no character is being performed.

The ones he probably doesn't even realize he's giving because they come out of him the same way breathing does.

He tips your chin up with his finger, and his eyes are just blue. Not indigo contacts, not the ones he wore for the Lohen cosplay, just his natural, stupid, annoyingly pretty blue that you fell for before you even knew that you cosplayed.

"Who do you want?" He asks, his voice low, and it's the softest you've heard it all night.

You look at him, at the messy hair, at the body who dyes his hair for a fictional character and hates wigs and complains about having to style his hair everyday and who buys you an abmormal amount of primogems, and probably would get you c6 r5 Lohen the minute he drops because he does that for every character, even when he gets jealous when you simp for a character that you don't just ask him to cosplay like any other logical person dating a cosplayer.

"Kuni," you say, and your voice is small and sure. "Just Kuni."

His mouth twitches, and you can see the shape of a smile trying to form before he catches it and pulls you closer, tucking your head under his chin and pressing his lips to your hair.

"Good answer," he murmurs into your scalp, so quiet that you almost miss it.

You close your eyes, your face against the fabric of his shirt, and you're asleep before you can respond. He stays awake for a minute more, his hand moving through your hair in slow repetitive movements. He stares at the ceiling fan, and he doesn't say anything.

He doesn't need to.

I have a Discord now! 18+, for readers, writers, and anyone who wants early wips and a place to chat!! (link)

taglist: @vvalentiqq, @jellyfishesandroses, @staarflowerr, @literallyibanny, @justwandererforever, @hanakokunzz , @bvlletwound, @kas1sh1bas1ke, @maomaoyuki, @xaeevie @pwushizz, @txyyyyyyyyyssssssss, @livvysoxytocin, @ventiij, @ruoussss, @kunimooch, @morangosdocesdsuki, @yumi-rxiden, @heavyonsloth, @saviiamzz129, @hilaryinumaki1

[quinsilie]

───❝WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, I FELL IN LOVE...❞

ノㅤ﹕ ft. LOHEN x gn!readerᆞcuddlesᆞfluffᆞtired lohenᆞnot much else to say really

ノㅤ﹕wc ⋮ 546

Oh man, you've waiting for a moment like this — a lovely, rainy summer evening and a nice and tasty snack platter to go with it!

Swiftly after lighting some candles, you set your delectable little treats onto the coffee table, pour yourself some juice, and flop down on your couch; along side this wonderful asortment lie perfectly fluffed pillows and a thick novel, ready to complete the set-up of your evening of relaxation.

So you dig into both your snacks and the book, and man you have to treat Lisa to a drink sometime soon — the book she reccomended you was pure bliss!

So good in fact that you did not notice the click of the front doors lock, or the tired stare that accomponied it.

Crimson-swirled eyes dance across your form, observant and incredibly heavy — a step or two more and Lohen felt as if he would pass out.

Thankfully the couch was quite close, so he swiftly removes his shoes and with a few long strides stands before you, watching you read as you layed on your tummy. By the time you get out of your literature-induced trance and noticed him, he had already made his move — laying himself down across your back.

You watch him carefully for a few moments, almost feeling him untense the moment he gets his hands on you. A small hum leaves your lips, "...Rough day?"

He nods, nuzzling closer in the process.

Huffing a small laugh, you continue, "Wanna go to bed early tonight?" You offer gently, moving to grab your book mark off the coffee table.

Lohen beats you to it, grabbing it for you. His face heats up a little seeing how it was the one he bought you while in Nod Krai. He shakes his head as he hands it to you, "Nah, too tired. Let's stay like this for a bit..." His voice is gentle, yet heavy with sleep — each syllable dragging on a little longer than it should, fatigue weighing them down tremendously.

You hum, setting the book aside, "Mind if we changed positions though? You're kinda crushing me over here hun..."

Lohen remains silent for a few moments, as if gathering the strengh to move. When he finally does, the difficult little prick hardly moves over — giving you just enough space to scoot over to the edge of the couch.

Eventually you both manage to worm into a spooning position, with Lohens cheek smushed into your nape and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

He mumurs a small 'Good night' and 'sweet dreams' as he lets sleep consume him, squeezing you a bit tighter subconsciously.

Now you are left all alone, still not tired enough to conk out alongside him. Decinding to read a little more, you grab your book again.

In the back of your mind, you hope that Lohen doesn't wake up complaing about how numb his arm has gotten after cuddling. He lies through his teeth every time he does though, as Lohen enjoys the pins-and-needles feeling in his limbs a stupid amount — always feeling enamoured by the tingles.

Like most things, such as this fatigue that has consumed him, it is just a means to get to his goals; and that ofcourse entails you panpering him with cuddles.

ノㅤ﹕QUIN'S NOTE ⋮ shh... ignore how this is my third lohen fic in a row... mkaaay?? Shhh... let him rot my brain away in peace >////<

© quinsilie — 2026ᆞdo not translate, repost, or feed my work into any AI learning program, please and thank you ♡

[lunariyan]

A Knight’s Loyalty (Yandere Lohen x reader)

⏾⋆.˚ : gender neutral reader, unhealthy dependence, threats of suicide, self harm, power imbalance, reader kinda sends mixed signals.

⏾⋆.˚ : He was always a fantasy to you, something you knew you could never truly have. In the end, whatever you had with him was only meant to be some harmless fun, too bad Lohen took it a step too far.

(7.6k wc)

“Among the higher ranks, who’s your favorite?”

The cool winds of Nod Krai swept through the Favonius keep, a crackling fire keeping the chill at bay. Following another swift victory against the wild hunt the knights broke out into a celebration, guzzling down kegs of dandelion wine from the latest shipment. Song and mirthful laughter filled the air as each knight’s face grew progressively more red.

A boisterous voice bellowed from within the little circle, “What kind of question is that? Obviously it’s Grandmaster Varka! The knights would be nowhere near where we are now without him.”

“Hey, that's just unfair. Grandmaster Varka is great but I personally think Lady Eula is the best! I mean she’s just so graceful.” A chipper knight with hickory hair sighed dreamily.

“Well then how about Master Jean? She’s strong and capable! She was made Acting Grandmaster for a reason you know?”

“Ugh I don’t know!” Winfried, the knight who first asked the question squinted his eyes, the flush on his face indicating he was thoroughly wasted. Suddenly his eyes turned to face you, he slurred, “What about you [name]? Who do you think is the *hic* coolest?”

“Me?” You hummed thoughtfully as you eyed the bottom of your empty barrel, seriously, it was good wine.

“That’s right you haven’t said anything this whole time, tell us!”

“Yeah yeah!”

The crowd grew overzealous as they egged on their new target, their fervent gazes impatiently waiting for your answer as they wriggled in their seats.

“Hmm, then.” you licked your lips, “Vice Captain Lohen.”

A hush settled over the once lively circle, only the crackle of the fire heard amidst the silence.

“Y-You’re kidding right?” Winfried laughed nervously, “Come on seriously who is it?”

You cocked a brow, pouting slightly, “I’m serious though?”

“But why?!” The brunette beside you shrieked, “H-he’s so scary!”

Another knight chimed in as a full body shiver ran through him, “Yeah! Once he made me do drills until I puked, and then made me do even more as punishment!

You chuckled apologetically, you felt bad for your fellow knights you really did… but, “Isn’t it pretty impressive he managed to get you to do that?”

“Huh?”

“Well you’re older than him aren’t you? The fact that he was able to rise up the ranks, get the Grandmaster’s approval, gain the authority of vice captain, and get you to train until you puked before even reaching your age. That’s pretty cool right?”

“You-!” The man exclaimed, “You’re just teasing me!”

This time you it was your turn to let out a boisterous laugh, “Sorry, sorry, I was just messing with you! Still…” you traced the handle of your mug, “Seeing his back on the battlefield brings a lot of reassurance, doesn’t it?”

“I guess… but tell me honestly [name],” Winfried let out a long winded sigh, “Are you a masochist?”

“Haha, Maybe.”

Sometimes, when you’re taking a break from drills and not needed for deployment, you take your time to observe the Vice Captain. It wasn’t creepy —well at least you didn’t think so— it was just something to keep you entertained, to pass the time, and Vice Captain Lohen was oh so interesting.

This time, you found yourself situated between a tall, jagged rock as you watched him duke it out with a Frostnight Scion that had been approaching dangerously close to the keep. There was a sharp grin split into his face as he cut into the beast with his polearm, the frosted tip tearing a screech from its chest. His movements were swift and frantic, but there was that edge of grace ingrained in them that clearly displayed his knighthood.

You were startled out of your observation from a whisper in your ear, “Ogling the Vice Captain again, [name]?”

“Gh! Winfried, how many times have I told you to quit doing that?!” You hissed as you watched your companion lean against the more hidden side of the rock.

“And how many times have I told you to not wander off without telling anyone?” He leveled a stern look at you before crossing his arms, “Anyways you should get out of here before he notices you, the last thing you want is Vice Captain Lohen’s eyes on you.”

You huffed, “He’s definitely noticed us for a while now.”

“Yeah but he doesn’t care, you should leave before he does.”

“Yeah yeah, in a minute.” You could hear Winfried audibly sigh beside you as you turned your head to face Lohen again. He had defeated the Scion at this point, now he had his polearm stuck into the sand of the shoreline, gazing distantly into the horizon. It was unlike him, the somber look in his eyes, but it’s an expression you’ve noticed he's been taking on more lately.

“Hey.” You signaled to Winfried, “Do you think… the Vice Captain might be having a hard time too, just like the rest of us?”

“What?”

“You know, maybe even someone like him is getting worn down by the Wild Hunt, his eyes just look so… empty sometimes.”

“That’s because he has no soul.” Winfried sighed, “You’re overthinking it, there’s no way a monster like him even knows what fear is.”

“…Yeah I guess.”

Just as you replied, Lohen pulled his polearm about of the sand and turned to face the rock you two were hiding behind.

“Gah quick! Let’s get out of here!” Winfried’s hand shot out to grab your arm, just as you two turned tail to run you threw one final glance at Lohen.

His dull eyes remained fixed on yours. You didn’t look away until he was a speck on the horizon.

After that encounter you tried to be more discreet with your observing, though you don’t think you could’ve possibly found a way to evade the vice captain’s sharp eye. Maybe that’s what landed you in this sorry situation.

“Looks like you’re next.”

A wooden sword pointed towards after one of your fellow knights fell to the floor of the training grounds, groaning in pain. It was peaceful that day, or at least as peaceful it could be in Nod Krai, when Lohen rounded a group of knights to ‘spar’ with. Each of them dropped like flies until finally, it was your turn.

You swallowed down the saliva pooling in your mouth before drawing your wooden sword.

Lohen laughed, “Let’s hope you put up a good fight.”

Immediately he rushed towards you and just barely managed to dodge his attack, with every movement you were stuck in a perpetual cycle of defense, putting all your strength into just deflecting his onslaught of attacks. You heard a whistle in your ear.

“Got you~”

Suddenly you felt the blunt edge of the wooden sword punch into your gut, knocking the air out of you. You doubled over, your ass falling flat on the ground when the chill of frost singed your cheek. Sticking out of the ground next to you, just shy of your shoulder, was the wooden sword, infused with cryo. When your eyes turned back you found magenta and teal staring back.

A chill ran down your spine.

He hummed, his forearm leaning onto the hilt of the sword as he bent to look down at you, “You’re pretty good, my little secret admirer.”

“Hah,” You wheezed out a thin laugh, your hand still clutching your stomach as drool dripped from your mouth, “Not very secret if I’m this open about it, yeah?”

“Oh? I suppose you’re right!” And with that he pulled the hilt of the sword and turned away.

“W-wait.” You cried, “I can… still fight.”

Before you could get back on your feet you felt cold fingers flick your forehead.

“I like your spirit, but you should know your limits. Shame, if you were just a tad bit stronger I would’ve set my sights on you.”

Your head hung low in defeat. Just a little stronger… what a pipe dream.

“You should take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You were out on patrol when you came across Lohen again, from the freshly dead hilichurls littering the ground it looked like he was out on another excursion to ‘relieve some stress’.

And of course wherever Lohen went, you would follow.

“I could, but a picture can never compare to the real thing, now can it?”

“Well then why don’t you come down here and I’ll give you a real show.”

You were perched up on a cliff overseeing the hilichurl camp, you gave it some thought before letting out a theatrical sigh, “I think I’ll pass actually.”

Lohen merely shrugged his shoulders, “Suit yourself.”

Maybe it’s because he thought you were too weak, that a fight with you wouldn’t be worthwhile, but he gave up relatively easily. This has been your routine for a while now. Make no mistake, he still beat you black and blue when it came to training, but times like this when it was just the two of you, he let you be. A part of you thinks he’d rather not be distracted by a bigger fight, and another is telling you he just likes the attention.

It wasn’t anything serious, you know he wasn’t really interested, that this was just some passing entertainment until he finds his next fight. You weren’t expecting anything either, honest, it was just… harmless fun. Sure, some of the things he says make your cheeks burn, and sometimes your mind wanders to him, but that's all there is to it.

It was just a fantasy, he was just a fantasy.

He turns his back to you, and you find you’ve grown tired of the sight.

Your fellow knights thought your little arrangement was an absolute nightmare.

“I told you to steer clear of him didn’t I?” Winfried clicked his tongue, “Now he comes to pick on us even more!”

“He picks on you guys anyways, plus he’s not actually interested so I doubt he does it because of me, he’s probably just bored.”

You were seated around the fire once again, mugs full of liquid courage. The Wild Hunt had been more aggressive recently putting everyone on edge, drinking around a fire huddled with your companions was all you could do to settle your nerves.

Laurent sighed wearily, “You two should forget about silly things like that and focus on the threat ahead. The Wild Hunt is growing more unpredictable by the day.”

“Oh yeah, I overheard the Grandmaster speaking of a new threat on the horizon, someone named Rerir.” Winfried took a quick swig from his mug, “Well whatever, I’m sure we’ve got nothing to worry about, [name]’s sweetheart will surely take care of it.”

“Don’t call him that…” you hissed, but you couldn’t help the fond smile on your face, “I’m sure we'll be just fine.”

Things weren’t fine at all.

This new… monster, Rerir, whatever he was he was something far beyond the power of the knights. In the face of that beast, even the strongest would fall.

Even Lohen fell.

You watched them drag his broken body into the encampment, your blood running cold. When they ushered him into a private room it took everything in you not to follow after, to confirm his weakness with your own eyes. It’s been days since the assault and Lohen’s condition had finally stabilized, not to the point where he could get out of bed, but just enough to stay conscious. You find yourself hesitating in front of his room, recalling what the Frostmoon Scion who was treating him told you.

‘He’s in a bit of a delicate position right now emotionally, he may be aggressive so it’s best to proceed with caution.’

You gulped before carefully parting the curtain.

“…Vice Captain?”

Only silence greeted you, and the lingering stench of blood and medicinal herbs in the air. Lohen laid on the mattress, only a thin blanket covered his still form. From this distance you could see the various bandages littering his skin, some already bled through. His face was turned away from you, facing the small window carved into the stone of the building. You took a few cautious steps forward before being interrupted by a raspy voice.

“Get out.”

It wasn’t loud, closer to a whisper and barely there, you would have missed it if your ears weren’t trained for any sign of a reaction. You felt something shift inside you because for the first time since you’ve known him Lohen sounded so damn weak.

He wasn’t supposed to sound like that.

You let out a shaky breath, “…okay.”

Your visits after that followed a relatively simple pattern. You would try to make conversation, get a reaction, and Lohen would proceed to firmly dismiss you. Sometimes through aggressive shouts, and others with a small whisper. You didn’t mind, it was enough just to see him alive and breathing, the rejections weren't something that could deter you so easily anyways. This time, you had offered to help the Frostmoon Scions and bring a new basin of water and washcloths in their stead. As you stepped up to the entrance of his ward you were expecting the usual routine, make some small talk, he would ignore and dismiss you, and you would set the basin and cloth down and go on your merry way. Those were your expectations as you parted the curtain once more.

“Vice Captain, I brought some water.”

In response you heard a labored huff, when you looked up you noticed Lohen struggling to get out of bed. His limbs trembled as they braced against the mattress, a thin sheen of sweat layered his forehead.

Immediately you placed the basin and cloth down and hurried to stop him, “What are you doing you shouldn’t be out of bed yet-”

Suddenly, your vision distorted, a stinging pain piercing your head. Your head was whipped forcefully to the side and when you looked down you noticed a piece of… stone? It must’ve been one of the small stone statues the Frostmoon Scions kept around. As you eyed it closer with blurry eyes you noticed a patch of red and instinctively brought a hand to your head. When you pulled back, a matching red coated your fingers.

“A-ah…”

Lohen hadn’t noticed, or he might have and was too out of his mind to care. A cracked wheeze crawled out of his throat, the crimson in his eyes glowing with outrage, “Just why the hell do you keep coming back here, huh? Just to revel in my weakness?”

“That’s not-”

“Save it, I don’t need your pity! Get out of my sigh- hrk!” Before he could finish his sentence his chest convulsed and all color drained from his face. He held his hand over his mouth before turning and emptying the contents of his stomach with a shudder. You stepped back in surprise as the clear liquid pooled on the floor, and while Lohen’s body quaked in front of you, you could only think of one thing.

‘Oh, he hasn’t eaten.’

Lohen tried to steady himself and hung his head low in what you didn’t want to call shame, but it was close. He stayed silent, only his shuddering breaths echoing through the stone walls.

With a sigh you took a step back before gathering the cloth and dipping it into the basin of warm water. Carefully, you stepped forward and kneeled beside his hunched form. With steady hands you turned his head and brought the cloth to gently wipe at the corner of his mouth.

His pupils were blown wide and he grit his teeth, but he made no move to swat your hand away. He whispered weakly, “Why are you doing this?”

You hummed thoughtfully, taking a moment to think of a response, before speaking softly, “It’s nice to be able to see you face to face after only ever knowing the sight of your back.”

Something in Lohen’s expression changed at that, the slightest shift in his eyes that you wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t a hairbreadth away. As if finally regaining some sense, his eyes were drawn to the leaky red patch on your head. You followed them and quickly turned your head to hide the wound.

“Ah, don’t worry about this. It’s nothing compared to what you went through.”

Lohen made a complicated expression, he opened his mouth to say something before biting his lip instead. The ghost of an apology lingered in the air.

You showed him a small smile before rising off your knees, “I’ll clean this up and call for a Scion. Please don’t try to get up without assistance again, Vice Captain.”

The man only huffed before turning over and pulling the thin blanket over himself, “fine.”

You nodded and made way for the exit, his eyes still imprinted in your mind.

The Frostmoon Scions were incredibly fussy about the little wound on your head. When they asked how you got it, all you could say was ‘I fell’. It was such an obvious lie it was almost laughable; still, they didn’t question it, simply dressed the wound and told you to be careful. You wished your fellow knights were as agreeable, they simply gave you a knowing look and sighed whenever they glanced at the bandage on your forehead.

It’s been a week since then, and whenever you had free time you made sure to visit Lohen. He’s been more responsive during your visits, his usual snark tinting more of his words. The fight with Rerir almost seemed to shatter his spirit so it was reassuring to know he was regaining his confidence.

You were with him again, this time you had a ball of gauze at your side as you redressed his bandages. Perhaps it was stubbornness, but his recovery speed was impressive. Maybe he was just willing himself to get better in order to step back on the battlefield. You were speaking to him of anything and everything, just enough to fill the silence. He had been quieter than usual and it was only when you taped the last bandage that he spoke up.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“The knights have been telling you to leave me, haven't they?”

You choke, “W-what do you mean?”

He scoffed half heartedly, “I know what they’ve been whispering behind my back. ‘The Vice Captain has finally fallen, perhaps he isn’t as formidable as we all thought!’ Right?”

You tried to open your mouth in denial but quickly shut it when you couldn’t find a rebuttal, instead you mumbled in defeat, “Who told you that…?”

Lohen laughed airily, “I have eyes and ears everywhere, you really think I wouldn't find out?”

You barely hold back a biting remark, ‘then close your eyes and ears’

“Still…” he draws on, a sharp little smile curling his lips “You keep coming back. At least you know where your loyalties lie.”

Your brow furrowed a bit at that, "Don't be too harsh on them, morale has been down ever since Rerir’s attack. You’ve always been their shield, now that you’ve fallen it makes sense their fears are rising with no defense.” A small, teasing smile graced your lips, “That small back of yours is pretty reassuring, you know?”

“And yet, you hate the sight of it.”

You stilled for a moment before looking up to lock eyes with Lohen. Carefully, you brought a hand to brush a lock of hair away from his face, “…Even you deserve a break sometimes.”

Lohen leaned into your touch and just as you were about to pull away he held onto your wrist, his voice feather soft, “Hey, won’t you stay the night?”

You flinch involuntarily, there was something in his voice that felt… intimate. There was a small, wriggling feeling of unease in your gut, “Vice Captain that’s a bit…”

“Please.”

Vice Captain Lohen never begs, you didn’t even think he knew the concept, so how could you possibly deny him when he asked so sweetly.

“…fine.”

You were awoken to a stinging pain. Slowly you raised your head from the mattress Lohen laid on, his face turned away from you, only the steady rise and fall of his chest indicating he was asleep. Your hand laid by his side, his finger just barely grasping the tips of yours, as if he were hesitant to fully grasp your hand but refused to fully let go. You stared at your hands before gasping quietly at another sting of pain. Gently, you peeled his fingers from yours before gingerly pressing into the bandage on your head. You sighed at the wet crimson staining your fingers, your wound must’ve opened during the night.

As quietly as you could, you rose from your seat and padded towards the small mirror on the side wall. There was a basin of clear water beneath it intended for washing purposes. You leaned over the counter and removed the bandage to see fresh blood leaking from the reopened wound. There was a cloth on the counter, and after lightly dipping it into the water basin you went to dab at the wound. You hissed at the stinging pain but continued to clean the wound and bandage it, all while biting your lip trying to hold in your pained moans.

But you noticed, in the dead of night, there was no one there to bear witness to your weakness. There was no reason to hold in your pain, to keep up this strength. So you released your bitten lips, a quiet sob leaving them.

It hurts.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurtsithurtsithurts-

Like the break of a dam, tears continued to leak from your eyes. The culmination of the pain from your wound, the fear of the Wild Hunt, the frustration from your own weakness, the despair that even someone like Vice Captain Lohen could be defeated so thoroughly-

If someone like him fell, then what chance could you possibly stand in this wretched world?

These thoughts continued to fall in streams from your eyes. The throbbing pain from your head served only as a reminder. A torrent of sobs crawled up your throat as they echoed across the stone walls, your hands continuously wiping at the wetness.

“[Name]?”

You froze, a quiet hiccup slipping past your lips as you tried to turn your head away from the voice and squeezed your eyes shut. You could feel eyes burning into you as you hurriedly splashed water onto your face, praying it would cover the evidence of your weakness.

“S-sorry, did I wake you?” You tried to laugh, but it came out stilted.

There was a moment of silence, and then, “I’ve always been a light sleeper.”

Archons, he heard everything didn’t he?

It took everything in you not to rush out right that instant, an embarrassed flush burning your face. You know he could see your face in the mirror even with your head ducked.

“Come here.”

You hesitated, but eventually stepped to the stool you had been sleeping on previously, your head lowered in shame.

“Not there.”

You raised your head in confusion, only to feel your breath hitch at the sight of Lohen holding his blanket up, inviting you in.

He cooed, “Here, come on.”

“I- you can’t be serious.”

That uneasy feeling in your gut returned in full force. You were teetering on the edge of a line that shouldn’t be crossed between a knight and their superior. A threshold which you had previously thought Lohen had no intention of ever letting you pass. Silently, you wondered if this too was just a passing entertainment. If you were just something to keep his mind off his own weakness.

You… you didn’t want that, to be something to momentarily cling to only to eventually toss away.

You almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation only to quickly shut up at the seriousness in Lohen’s eyes. The crimson in them seemed to glow brighter in the dark and all you could do was helplessly crawl into his bed. Your back laid ram rod straight against the mattress, eyes firmly fixed onto the ceiling as you tried your hardest to ignore the heat beside you. It sure as hell didn’t help when Lohen curled into your side his arm laid over your chest.

“Vice Captain, this is-”

“Lohen. Call me Lohen, you know I hate titles.”

“…Lohen.” That sinking feeling was coming back in full force, you turned your head away from him, “This isn’t… I don’t think we should be doing this.”

Lohen’s arm seemed to wrap tighter around you, as if to prevent you from escaping, as if to prove that you had no choice in the first place, “How come?”

“You… seem to be asking for something impossible.. is all.”

Lohen hummed playfully, his finger gliding across your collarbone, “I haven’t even said anything and you’re already making assumptions. It’s not good for a knight to have such hasty judgment.”

“A knight… yes, exactly that,” you grit your teeth, he was clearly trying to play the long game. Unfortunately, you had no plans to indulge him, “I’m just a lowly knight. I can’t give you what you want Lo-… Vice Captain..”

Lohen stilled his ministrations and went quiet, only the soft tickle of his breath against your neck indicating his presence. Slowly, his lips crafted a response.

“I’m just a knight too.”

…

There was a beat of silence before you realized he was being serious.

“…Are you trying to comfort me? You? Just a knight? We both know that’s not true.” You laughed bitterly before turning over, your back facing him. Distant, but not fully gone, “Go to sleep Lohen.”

Lohen didn’t say anything, his arm still firmly wrapped around you. It was only when he noticed the steady rise and fall of your chest that he pressed himself flush against your back, his fingers lightly tracing the bandage on your forehead.

“Sorry… I’m sorry.”

His apologies went unheard.

It had been days since you last visited Lohen. You wouldn’t say you were ’avoiding’ him, but after your last encounter you weren’t exactly partial to a visit. In the meantime, you decided to take up your knightly duties which have been sorely neglected. It was during patrol that Winfried suddenly struck conversation.

“Have you heard? Apparently the Grandmaster is gathering people to defeat Rerir.”

You quirked a brow, “Is that so?”

“That’s right! No one really knows who’s helping him but the traveler is definitely involved.” Winfried grinned, his elation made sense, after all a formidable foe needed a formidable opponent and you’ve heard many tales of Mondstadt’s illustrious Honorary Knight.

You couldn’t help but smile in turn, “Then there’s no way we’ll lose.”

It was in the midst of you two laughing together that a familiar figure ran up to you.

“[Name]! Oh thank goodness I found you.” It was the Frostmoon Scion who was in charge of treating Lohen. Her face was shiny with sweat, her chest heaving as a clear sign of exertion, had she ran all the way here?

“Woah hey, what’s wrong?”

“Well! It’s that Vice Captain of yours you hear!?” You held her shoulders to steady her only to notice her abrupt appearance was less in panic and more in frustration, “He absolutely refuses to receive any kind of treatment!”

Your eyes widened a bit in surprise, “Sorry?”

She let out an exasperated huff, “I know you were only trying to help but to think it’s gotten to this point… Whenever I attempt to go through my usual routine he’s completely unresponsive and just tells me to leave! I’m sorry [name] but could you please go check up on him? We have other patients and I can’t afford to meander around his room any longer.”

“Ah that's… well I mean… I’m kinda.. in the middle of… something..” You turn back to Winfried, a bit lost on what to do, only to find him already shaking his head with a knowing sigh.

“Just go. It's just patrol, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“…thanks.”

You rubbed your temple and the now healed wound on your head seemed to mockingly throb at your predicament. You didn’t know just how exactly to face him, sure you may have indulged in this game he was playing, but that's only because you never expected anything to come out of it! After all, in what world would Lohen of all people get intimately entangled with some random knight who’s not even one of his own? You thought you two were on the same page, this… whatever this was, it wasn’t meant to get this far. As you stood in front of his room thinking of what to say to him you heard a small pained sound escape from inside. It was small, but sharp and instantly, all your thoughts fly out of your head as you quickly rush inside.

“Ghk…”

Your eyes were blown wide at the sight in front of you. Lohen was doubled over with long, angry red marks spanning across his arms. Fresh blood seeped from the wounds onto white sheets, dyeing them red, and you noticed his lips had also been bitten bloody. His hands continued to dig into the wounds on his arms.

“What are you- Archons Lohen stop!”

On instinct you made grab for the uninjured part of his arm. It was only then that he seemed to really notice your presence, his eyes immediately shot to you, his pupils were dilated and his face was drained of color. The blood leaking from his split lip was a stark contrast to his pallid skin. Despite the state he was in, his bloody lips curled into a smile at the sight of your face.

“You’re here.”

“Of course I- no just what on Teyvat were you doing?!” Your eyes darted down to survey the state of his wounds. The marks were bleeding in thin lines and upon closer inspection you noticed flecks of dead skin and blood beneath his nails, his wounds were clearly self inflicted.

“Haha… can you believe it? Those damn scions keep insisting that I need to stay in bed even though I’m already all better! Even when I refuse their unnecessary treatment they practically lock me up here. So I thought, ‘If I can’t go out onto the battlefield why not bring the battlefield here?’”

Your mouth hung wide open. You were well aware of Lohen’s lack of care for his own body— what with his partiality to poison and headstrong battle attitude— but to think it would reach this extent.

“And hey, look.” He brought a hand to stroke the newly formed scar on your head, the tissue still pink, “Now we match.”

You shuddered at the feeling of warm blood staining your cheek.

In a swift motion, you took hold of his wrist, a tense expression on your face, “Don’t ever do this again, you hear me?”

Lohen huffed lightheartedly before he noticed you backing away. You had planned to go looking for the gauze again when there was sudden tight grip on your hand.

“H-hey, hey. You know I was just joking right? If you didn’t like it I won’t do it again just- just don't leave.”

You squinted your eyes and only sighed wordlessly, “I’m just getting gauze, Lohen.”

He sucked in a breath before reluctantly letting go. I’m just a few moments you were at his side again with alcohol and wrappings. You really didn’t want to dwell on the way Lohen’s face flushed, his eyes transfixed on yours, as you disinfected his wounds. Nor did you want to think about the small, twitchy moans of what you hope is pain every time you pressed particularly hard.

It was when you had begun wrapping the clean bandage that he spoke again, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You halted for barely a moment before continuing the motion, “I haven’t. I’ve just been busy, knightly duties and all.”

“Liar.” Lohen hummed in amusement, “You’ve been avoiding me and yet you’re more fussy over this than your own wound, what’s with that?”

You noticed his eyes flicker to the scar on your head once more, almost relishing in it. You mumble, “Well, better me than you, yeah?”

A heavy silence hung in the air. Perhaps that wasn’t.. the best choice of words. You were about to open your mouth once more when Lohen beat you to the punch.

“Once I’m out of here, it’ll be that bastard Rerir getting ripped apart instead.”

You blinked, an uneasy twist to your lips, “Maybe.”

“It will. Now…” he lifted his blanket and patted the space next to him, “You’ll stay the night, won’t you?”

He never did get a chance to rip Rerir apart.

Rerir’s defeat rang through Nod Krai along with cheers for the heroes. With the threat of the Wild Hunt officially settled the Grandmaster ended the expedition and allowed all troops to return home. A long awaited celebration was held in the Flagship, the tavern bustling with familiar figures.

In the midst of it, you could see Lohen, a smile on his lips with Varka’s large arm slung around him. He looked just as happy as the others, but you could see the tightness in his smile, the way his fist clenched behind his back, a certain hunger in his eyes left unsatisfied.

The knights were greeted just as grandly upon your arrival in Dorman Port. You watched your comrades pull friends and family into bear hugs, flowers and gifts being passed around. Many were in tears and you watched quietly off to the side.

Settling back into a peaceful life in Mondstadt was hard for most. With the constant threats in Nod Krai there was a constant need to be on high alert, now it’s hard not to flinch at the chirp of birds. Of course some struggled, but it was inevitable that sheer relief was the common consensus. You found happiness in the peace as well, finally breathing in air that wasn’t tinged with a trace of blood or smoke did numbers on your stress.

Things with Lohen on the other hand… well you couldn’t tell if they’ve gotten better or worse.

You expected him to forget all about you, to see your little relationship as a stain in his life, a moment of weakness, one to completely erase. Your return to Mondstadt came with the full acceptance of him never looking your way again. What you didn’t expect was that he’d practically be on your heel every waking moment.

“Do you seriously just sit here and… talk to people for hours on end? That's it? Where’s the excitement in that?!”

“…No one asked you to follow me here.” You had been enjoying another idyllic day in Dorman Port when Lohen had sneaked up on you, again, and decided to plop down right next to you, “If you’re so bored then why don’t you go patrolling for monsters again?”

“And leave you here all by your lonesome? Why, I would never,” he tutted, “I’m a gentleman after all.”

“Gentleman?” You snorted, “You wouldn’t know gentle if it had socked you in the face.”

You wonder if it’s you who’s gotten more audacious or Lohen who’s gotten more lenient. If it were as it had been before he probably would’ve used you as target practice for that comment. Despite your biting remark you can’t deny that he has been painfully, well, gentle with you. If you didn’t know any better you’d have thought he was afraid to lay a hand on you. The most he’s done is drag you along everywhere he went, never letting you stray too far from his side. You try to shrug it off, he clearly hasn’t been able to adjust to the change in environment like everyone else, maybe he’s just trying to cling to something familiar.

You really hope that’s all it was

“So don’t grow old on me, ok?”

His voice was like a whisper in the wind, if it weren’t for the traveler’s nod of confirmation it would’ve seemed like he hadn’t said a thing at all. You held your back firm against the wall of the cathedral, you didn’t mean to listen in, really, you just came to pay your respects; but when you heard that familiar voiced tinged with a hint of sadness you froze, unintentionally hiding yourself.

You watched the traveler walk away with their floating companion, their backs retreating into the sunset. The leaves rustled in the wind and you stayed in your spot, hidden behind the wall. You didn’t want to intrude on a tender moment but-

“Just how long are you planning to hide there?”

…of course he noticed.

You slipped out of your hiding spot, “Sharp as ever, aren’t you?”

A light laugh rang from him, “I could recognize your footsteps anywhere.”

You huffed before turning to Adorno’s grave, your expression solemn, “I heard about what happened. I…I’m sorry.”

Lohen’s smile was smaller now, more melancholic, his eyes seemed to be looking somewhere much farther away, “Well, it was due to our own selfishness that he even lasted this long. It was about time that the old man finally gets laid to rest.”

You nodded, a small smile resting on your lips, “…It’s good that you have someone else to open up to now though.”

“Huh?”

“The traveler,” you turned to where the traveler had stood previously with Paimon, “‘don’t grow old on me’ right?”

Your eyes stared wistfully into that spot. There was an unsaid ‘someone other than me.’ You were happy, really. Lohen needed someone else, someone stronger and more capable than you could ever be, and the traveler was a perfect fit. With them, he could reach out to others and he’ll realize that you were never truly that special. Just someone who happened to see him at his weakest

In a sudden motion you felt yourself being held in a tight grip, Lohen’s face buried in your neck.

“Wha-”

“You know you’re all I need, right?”

His voice trembled, the ends of his words fraying just slightly. There was a knot in your throat because this felt too damn familiar, “What are you talking about?”

“The traveler isn’t worth shit compared to you,” his breath tickled your skin, the brush of his lips against it making you spine tingle, “None of them are worth shit.”

“You- Lohen do you hear yourself right now?” You tried to pull him off but his grip remained steely, “You shouldn’t- I just meant that it’s good that you have other people to rely on!”

“I don’t care! Why do you sound like you’re trying to leave me?!”

“That’s not- I didn’t…” You could only stand there with your mouth agape as Lohen trembled in your arms. You wanted to deny it but nothing left your throat. You could only wrap your arms around him and rub soothing circles into his back. You spoke in hushed whispers, trying your best to coax him out of your arms, “Come on, don’t be like this. It’s ok, it’s ok I-” you paused before swallowing, “I won’t leave you.”

“…Promise?”

You let out a defeated sigh, “Yeah.”

“Okay…” He finally pulled back at that, instead opting to bring your hands to cup his face, “Okay.”

You bit your lip. This… this was too far, whatever was going on between you two wasn’t healthy. Air entered your lungs in short bursts as he kissed your palm.

It was high time you put an end to this.

Dear Mother,

It’s been a while since I’ve sent you my last letter. What with the return of the expeditionary force and the endless celebration I simply could not find the time. I’ve been idling my days away here and could not help but think of your face every time I gazed beyond the port.

Days of ever present danger are long gone and it seems I’ve grown accustomed to the peace within the city walls, it reminded me far too much of home. It’s been years since I’ve last seen you, and I’ve come to a realization as well.

You never approved of me becoming a knight, but I was young and ambitious and couldn’t help but defy you. It is only after witnessing true strength that I realize perhaps I was never suited for this path. I had always enjoyed sitting around a fire chatting with friends rather than fighting for honor and glory. With this newfound peace, I think it’s about time I lay this title to rest.

I plan to let the acting grandmaster know of my departure— though I suppose she isn’t the acting grandmaster anymore haha— and plan to set out to come back home. I heard you’ve moved back to Sumeru in the past year and I cannot help but grow excited to taste your home cooked meals again. Good Hunter is nice, but nothing can quite beat you!

Don't worry, you won’t be waiting too long, I’ll be there soon!

“Sincerely, [name].”

A thud echoed in the room as your groceries hit the floor. You stilled at the sight Lohen at your desk, his fingers gingerly pressed against parchment as he dangled it in the air, "What are you doing in my room?”

You thought it was strange when you came home to an unlocked door. You had shrugged it off as paranoia, maybe you had forgotten to lock the door on your way out. You couldn’t have been more wrong.

Lohen hummed, his eyes still on the paper he had just finished reading out, “Sumeru? That's a bit far dont you think?”

“…I asked you a question.”

“Were you really planning to never tell me? Or did you think I wouldn’t find out?” In a sharp motion, he whipped out his dagger, the tip pressed into the parchment before a loud rip resounded in the silence.

Your lip trembled as you watched him carefully tear away at the paper, each rip more violent than the last, “W-why…”

“You promised.” He was walking towards you now, the point of his dagger dangerously close to you, “You said you wouldn’t leave.”

Your back pressed to the door and as you slowly crept towards the handle a hand shot out to grab your wrist. You felt your bones creak at the sheer force in his grip, an aborted gasp leaving you.

“Or were those all empty words?” The hilt of his dagger was used to lift your chin, “It’s not right for a knight to go back on their word you know?”

You chuckled dryly, hoping to all the archons above that it could conceal the fear in your voice, “I’m not a knight anymore, am I?”

Lohen only gave you a blank look, his face mere inches from yours. His breath smelled of Valberries and mint and you felt your stomach turn, “You think I’d let you get away that easily?”

You wanted to laugh, there was one somewhere hidden in the crevice of your chest but all you could do was offer a shaky smile.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Lohen paused at that, his dull eyes bore into you, but he only smiled before pressing his forehead to yours, “You know I wouldn’t lay a hand on you. Not you, never.”

In an instant that hand which had your wrist in a crushing grip twisted your fingers open. Suddenly you felt the chill of cool leather on your skin as you noticed just what was in your hands.

Lohen’s dagger laid there, his fingers enclosing your own around it’s hilt.

Before you could process it his hand had pulled yours forward, the sharp end cutting into his neck. You gasped, immediately you went to pull away but his grip remained firm and there was no way you could ever overpower him.

“If you’re so insistent on leaving, then go ahead. But, just know…” despite the blade nicking into his skin, he smiled, a twisted lovesick smile that marred his delicate features, “My blood will be on your hands.”

“S-stop,” You tugged to no avail, “Lohen, stop,” he leaned in and the closer he came the deeper the knife cut into him, “Please!”

There was a steady stream of blood leaking from his neck but he didn’t so much as flinch, his wide eyes completely fixed on yours, “Say you won’t leave.”

“I won’t! I won’t so please let go-”

“Liar.” He hissed, “You’re lying again aren’t you? Just like last time, you don’t really mean it. Do you really want to kill me?”

“Archons Lohen no! I’m not! I won’t- I won’t ever leave you again ok? I’ll always be by your side, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.I’msorryI’msorry!! Please!”

Your eyes watered as you noticed him pale significantly, the crimson staining the knife a stark contrast to the chalky color of his skin. He was panting now, the blood long having soaked into his clothes, yet despite how frail he looked, his grip over your hand was relentless.

“Hehe, you mean it?”

Slowly, his grip loosened and his hand fell weakly. The moment he let go you threw the dagger to the floor as if it had burned you. You were shaking as Lohen pressed his cold lips to yours, sighing into a closed mouth kiss.

“It’s a promise then. If you try to break it… who knows what I’ll do.”

A wet sniffle left you as he stumbled into your neck. As he stood there, breathing you in, you could feel his hot blood stick to your skin like a brand, forever staining you.

[lynnerra]

Imagine sleeping with Lohen

After years of sleeping rough on the expedition, it is hard for him to get back to the habits of sleeping normally.

Sleeping is a state that leaves people very vulnerable so being able to convince him to sleep with you is an insane feat on its own. It's not that he thinks you're dangerous but the quiet atmosphere of your sleeping chamber bothers him, it's so vastly different from the loud howls of the winds or the distant roars of monsters that he's been trained to endure in his sleep. So for the first few weeks or so, expect to lie in bed next to a stiff, rigid Lohen who probably wouldn't move a muscle... at all.

Eventually, you show him that it's alright to enjoy this kind of serenity, that this is a safe moment when he doesn't have to keep his guard up constantly. And you also show him the art of cuddling. At first he would pretend to be normal about it, but overtime you notice Lohen always having his arm out so as to let you lie on his bicep (numbness? oh that probably feels nice to him anyways)

Lohen has his arm draped across you very loosely but given enough time and your encouragement he may get bolder and start fondling your boobs like they're stressball, or kneading your stomach fat like it's some sort of dough.

Incredibly light sleeper. He'll wake up just from a tiny stir from you or a mindless babble mid-dream. Eventually this habit dies down a little, allowing him to have better rest but it's still there. Sometimes when you get out of bed to fetch a glass of water, you turn back and see him looming at the kitchen's door or lying very still in bed, wide awake with his glowing eyes waiting for you to get back to him. Needless to say, Lohen has your heart rate spiked out of control with this shit.

Another thing he may do is falling asleep after you to... well, watch you sleep. This would be frequent during the first few weeks as he's not used to sleeping with you yet. The action brings some sort of complex joy to him, to see you so unguarded, unsuspecting in your most vulnerable state- Is it because you place so much trust in him? So much so that you wouldn't be wary of him and let him protect you in your slumber? To be relied on and trusted with someone's life means you're strong and capable so of course Lohen likes the thought of that. Eventually, the frequency of this habit drops later on but it never truly goes away. I mean, it's not like you would know anyways lol

Also, I just feel it in my heart that Lohen is a morning guy, even if he's not he still has to wake up early anyways. Why sleep when you can train? And since he loves and cares for your well-being so much, you're gonna go train with him too? What, you want to... sleep in? Well now that's tricky, but if you beg him hard enough maybe you can find some leeway

And and, I just know Lohen runs cold! His body has warmth of course, but when you glide your finger across his skin or let your palm feels his stomach- he seems quite cool to the touch. Which makes him a perfect body pillow for summer nights but when winter comes tho... You're saying that it's too cold to cuddle, he raises an eyebrow at you. You show him the wonders of your skin and the addictive tonic of your touch, and now you want to take them away from him? Guess what, he's cold too, that's why he needs you by his side

(no worries, he will turn on the heater for ya)

[chai-writes-stuff]

voicelines — lohen x reader, SFW, drabble

summary — aether asks lohen some questions about you.

themes — chai's self-indulgent lohen voiceline headcanons, fluff and humor, librarian!reader, mild suggestive themes, many references to my other lohen works

WC: 602

About Bunny, I

“Oh, hey there, Honorary Knight! How can I—? Hm? What’s that? You ran into Bunny, you say? And she told you she wanted to see me? Heh, sounds like her. Well, sorry to cut this conversation short, but I’m gonna get going. I don’t like to keep my princess waiting.”

About Getting Together

“She’s taken. Huh? You’re saying you don’t have any interest in her? You just wanna know how we got together? Eh…I dunno if I believe you.”

About Relationship Length

“Why’re you asking? You’re not trying to make a move on my Bun, are ya? I’ve got some new poisons from my time in Nod-Krai that I’d love to test, so if you keep asking me things like that, you might want to watch your drinks.”

About Future Plans

“My future’s her. That’s all you need to know.”

About His Ring, I

“Asking about my ring, huh? This is a promise ring. Bun’s got the match to it on her left, and I’ve got mine on my right. That way, whenever we hold hands, our rings touch. Not to brag or anything, but it’s kind of an awesome feeling.”

About Differences

“Mm, yeah, I get that all the time. ‘Vice Captain Lohen, you’re so violent and your girlfriend’s so sweet! Did you threaten her into dating you?’ People learned to stop saying the last part after I made up a new special training.”

About Bunny, II

“Hey, Honorary Knight. What’s that? I sound kinda down today? Well, I guess I’m a little bummed. Bun’s obsessed with this fantasy novel, and her favorite author’s doing a book signing in Inazuma. She’s going all that way, just for one signature! And she told me not to request leave, because she wants us to go on vacation this Summer! So I’m stuck here while she’s on her way there, and it’s driving me crazy not knowing if she’s safe or not. (…) Inazuma’s a safe country, you say? Maybe for you and me, but Bun can’t fight, so I’m worried fuckin’ sick. Pardon my French.”

About Fear

“No, she’s not scared of me. Why would she be? (…) Haha! You think I’d ever point a weapon at my girlfriend? I only get rid of the trash that needs cleaning up, and she understands that. Sure, her vision’s basically useless to her, but one good slap from her sets my shit preeetty straight. Man, I sure hope she smacks me around tonight…heh-heh.”

About Sex

“You wanna die, Honorary Knight?"

About His Ring, II

“Why’s it on my pointer finger? Well, that’s ’cause it’s my trigger finger. Whenever I shoot someone, it kinda feels like Bun’s shooting ‘em with me. Haha! It’s super romantic.”

About Pranks

“No, no, no—I don’t poison Bun. I mean, I slip a teensy weensy amount of it into her meals every now and then, just to help her build some tolerance, but I’d never outright poison her. If I’m gonna mess with her, I’ll usually just rage bait her until she starts beating on me. Oh—or I’ll tickle her until she starts crying! She’s so freakin’ cute when she’s in tears like that, heh-heh. (…) Huh? What’s so weird about that?”

About Love

“Yeah, she’s the love of my life. What’s it matter to you, exactly? (…) You…think we’re cute together? Oh, uh…well. Hm. Wasn’t expecting you to say that, honestly. Uh…thanks…I guess? I don’t really, uh…know what to say to that. (...) Huh? Pft—no! No, I’m not embarrassed! No, not at all! A-anyway, I gotta go do paperwork or something, so…! I’ll see you later, Honorary Knight!”

a/n: OH MAN THIS IS SO SELF-INDULGENT, but hopefully you guys will still like it! i get a little embarrassed with stuff like this cause i feel like it's silly, but if you guys like it, i may do more "voiceline" style content in the future! i was interested in doing a "lumine" version of this, because i feel like lohen may answer her a bit differently than he would aether, haha. anyway, if you liked what you read, please consider leaving a me a heart! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ reblogs and comments appreciated! im working on a discord server for moots! if you're interested, please check the rules out here! at this point in time, you must be a mutual to join! if you are interested in becoming moots, please check the rules in the post i linked! icymi! chai's last lohen post: you've been bad, lohen nsfw oneshot (600+ notes) masterlist

[polkayeti]

Lohen struggling to understand why you're crying when he tries to fit the entire length of his cock deep into your pussy hole.

Your tears are never ending when he rams into you so hard that your jaw is permanently unhinged at the sheer depth of his stupid cock fucking into you.

"What's the matter? Oh, let me guess.." this bastard pretends to think when suddenly pulling his cock away with a sly smirk, watching you squirm and cling to his arms as he giggles at your struggles.

His index and middle fingers spread over your clit to stimulate it, biting his lip while watching you stutter out a gasp, "O-Oh fuck! Lohen..!"

He laughs and rubs your clit, harsh and unrelenting before stabbing you with his cock once more, the tip reaching the gummy base of your cervix, "Shh.. did that feel good bunny? Does the little slut feel good?" he feels the clench around his dick and your face contorts into the expression he just loves to see, tears and snot ran down your face.

"Ah, ahh.." he moans high pitched and obnoxious, his pretty voice sending arousal straight to your belly, the heat pooling there is unbearable as he messes with your clit.

The double stimulation is so unrelenting that fresh tears run down your eyes at the sheer amount of pleasure you're feeling.

Lohen growls when you try to move away from him, your hand pushing his away from your clit as he pinches it to halt your movements, "W-Wait! Ah! wait..!" he stops moving all of a sudden and watched how your face contorted with something akin to bleary confusion.

"W-why... did you stop?" you question, your hips bucking forward to reach the peak of your climax but he tuts annoyed.

"You were the one who said to wait, right?" his cock is still warm and cozy inside of you but he doesn't move. Not one inch.

You shake your head and bit your lip, "I.. I know but.. I really wanna.." he cups his hand over his ear, condescendingly so, "Can't hear ya.. maybe repeat that?" he replies smugly, smirking when your breaths get heavier, your legs twitching.

"C-cum.. I want to cum." you shake your head and your hand squeezes his as a silent plea. He hums pleased at your lack of defiance, though honestly, there wasn't much to begin with. You're quite the naughty little thing aren't you?

He tsks and slaps a palm on your ass, relishing in the way you squirm and twitch, "Uh huh... but where exactly are your manners?"

"Please, I want your cum! please cum in me Lohen!" you continue to cry for him to fuck you and finish inside of you, much to his surprise..

"Oh yeah?" he relents and shushes you softly, "Here. Take my load. Take it." he snaps his hips forward until he's sure he can feel your tight little womb. He feels you whine out, your pussy squirting out liquid and he takes that as cue to spill his seed into you the same time, successfully creaming your walls clear white.

You practically cling to him when he continues to thrust into you, feeling your body spasm from sensitivity.

"Have to.. keep it all in." he whispers into your ear, cradling your head as he snugly fits his cock into you. He breathes softly and watches you hide into his neck. Lohen pulls back slightly and grips a handful of your hair to connect his lips to yours.

"You were so good bunny." he praises with a gentle rub to your ass. "If it spills out of this slutty hole? I'll just keep pumping more into you. got it?" Lohen hums when you nod rapidly with blushy cheeks. Very eager to please him huh?

He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, "Atta girl."

‎

[orang3rinds]

Kinich 💋🏖️

i think the beach at night is the time when its the prettiest so em hehehe

find the event here!

The beaches of Natlan are quiet at night.

Cool ocean waters lap gently at your ankles where you stand in the surf, salt lingering on your skin every time the waves recede. Were the evening air any colder, you'd likely be shivering from the sensation.

"Thought I'd find you here."

Kinich's voice pulls you from your thoughts, as gentle and steady as his hands are as they settle onto your waist. You hadn't heard him approach— usually, his arrival is followed by his Saurian companion's grating voice demanding all those listening to kneel and worship. You decide to treat the silence as a welcome reprieve.

"Were you looking for me?" You ask, turning around to face him. His hair is a little messy from the wind, likely from swinging straight over here and not bothering to fix it. It feels natural to reach up and take care of the task for him, running your fingers lazily through the slight tangles.

"Yes. I missed you," Kinich, as always, is straight to the point. You'd be more amused by his honesty if you weren't already so used to it. His eyes flit to your lips when you smile, and the want in his eyes is suddenly so intense that it's nearly tangible. "And…"

"You didn't kiss me this morning. When I left." His words are mumbled just a breath away from your lips, the words thoughtless and almost a little bit pouty. Despite the proximity, the gap between you still feels far too wide.

"That's because Ajaw was being annoying."

"Ajaw isn't here right now. You still owe me."

And with that, Kinich closes that tiny distance between you to collect his debt— and for once, the only sound you hear afterwards is the continued song of ocean waves.

[takaholic]

Ugh. Here he comes again. That damn Lohen, tossing a mora pouch in his left hand as he wears a smile that hides his eyes and the intention in them. You don't need to see them to know what he's up to.

"What is it now?" You grumble.

"Aw, no need to be so excited to see me," he says all too cheerfully.

"What do you need a friend for this time?"

"Straight to the chase. This is why you're my favorite friend," he says and tosses you the pouch. It's heavier than normal, and upon inspection of its contents, is double the amount than in the past.

"You must need Jean off your back with this amount," you muse as you count again.

"Not just Jean, all of the Knights. Varka wants to host a feast and a ball," Lohen explains. He leans in close and takes a shimmering mora coin out of the pouch, inspects it betwixt two fingers, then presses the edge of the cool metal to your cheek. "This isn't a friend fee; this is a lover fee."

"I am not having sex with you for money," you sneer.

He draws his face even closer to yours and laughs right in it.

"I like where your mind's at!" He cackles in that laugh of his that always raises concern. "I just need you to be my date for the night of."

He rolls the edge of the coin on the slope of your cheek, past your jaw, and down the side of your throat where he presses it in a little harder.

"What do you say? Are you up for it, dear?"

[duomolyl]

Hanahaki disease

inspired by this beautiful beautiful fic

Post by @kinichiwa · 4 images

💬 17  🔁 28  ❤️ 322 · a bloom fated to wither ft. LOHEN synopsis: his love starts with a single petal — now, flowers bloom in his lungs, gro

[darkmodeilluga]

semi inspired by your lost vision post: lohen carrying/also wearing your vision after you die. like kazuha with his friend

Would they carry your vision after death?

Man, this is sad. I brought the angst tonight, or shall I say morning since it’s 6am lol. So let’s say that you get revived eventually a time after these happen. It does happen, just off screen. Trust.

I need to sleep.

Characters: Lohen, Illuga, Nefer, Columbina, Kinich

Lohen

Bearing your death at first felt like hell to him. And it still is, but he’s grown to be numb to it. A world without you was one without color. He wasn’t strong enough to protect you. Too weak. Mortal. Absolutely worthless. During the crisis, he fantasized being able to go home with you. To rest together after a long day of stress and the heat of the battlefield. To take you to the Cat’s Tail. To Good Hunter. To take you out into the wilderness to just be. With you. And he had just finally saved up enough to buy an engagement ring. The dream shattered into pieces as Varka set the dulled vision into his hands. His mouth seemed to be moving, telling him what happened, but he heard none of it. All he could do was stare down at the vision and its ugly shade of gray, devoid of the vibrant glow it once held. He threw it harshly onto the ground and stormed off with thousands of emotions funneling through his head. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t face the failure. The grief. Pain. All he wanted was to be alone. Better yet, with you. But that was no longer possible. Hours by himself, the night fell. No one found him. When he didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be. It dawned on him. He really just lost you, didn’t he? How pathetic… he hasn’t cried since he was a child and here he was sobbing like a baby. Your vision. He tossed it away. No… no, he needs it. He doesn’t care how much it hurt to hold. He. Needs. It. Lohen ran back to the scene in a frantic panic, but no matter where he looked, he couldn’t find it. Where did it go?! The longer he couldn’t find it, the more hysterical he became. On the verge of a panic attack, a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He froze, turning back. Grandmaster Varka with a solemn expression, and in his hand, your vision. Without a word, Lohen took it and stood up, holding it close to his chest as he walked past Varka and made his trek home. He will never separate himself from it again. “You’re not really dead… You can’t be.”

Illuga

Your death was his failure. It should’ve been him who died, and yet he lived. He always did. He should’ve been used to it by now, but it only hurt worse every time. And this time your absence took everything of him with. Illuga still acted the same. Gave orders, nodded to jokes, spoke as if he were alive. The same motions. But he might as well be a walking corpse. He hardly fooled anyone. Not Nikita, not Flins, nor his subordinates. They had to make sure that he still ate and got the rest he needed or else he’d push himself to collapse. He mourned you every day. You were on his mind every second. Each step a reminder as to how he still breathed while you didn’t. He wished he had died. It would have been a mercy. A mercy to this misery haunting him. His parents. His brothers in arms. His friends. He couldn’t even protect the love of his life. How could he call himself a lightkeeper? Illuga knew he shouldn’t have made those decisions that day. Shouldn’t have let you. There were so many things he should have done differently. Illuga visited your grave every day. And he knew he should return your property back to you, but he just couldn’t. As he lay his eyes upon the vision the lightkeepers brought back, all he could do was take it without so much as a word. Once your body was recovered, they didn’t let him see it. And once Flins got involved, he quickly decided to quit trying. Or maybe that’s what he wanted to choose deep down. He once tried to return the vision to your grave, but he could barley bring himself to break contact with it. Illuga didn’t keep it on his person at all times, rather he kept it in a safe place. On the nightstand by his bed in Piramida is where it would sit. And on the days where he has to sleep without it, he is terrorized by nightmares. Illuga could only get proper rest with your presence by his side. “Would you be proud if I handled another day without you? Or lonely… without me?”

Nefer

You were a fool. That’s the only reason you were dead. You made a bad call and it ended in your demise. Something seemingly so insignificant with such dire consequences. It happened, she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up that she would be able to have a future with you. Not the typical wedding and domestic bliss. Just a companion to feel at ease with. It was your fault you died, so why should she care? That’s what she wishes she could tell herself. She was angry, yes, but this was nothing like her father. She couldn’t hold onto that anger this time. But she couldn’t sit and wallow in self pity either. All she can tell herself is to move on. Detattach herself from those emotions and prevent them from opening up again. She was an idiot for opening to you in the first place. Maybe you’d still be here if she hadn’t. No, that was foolish thinking. It wasn’t her fault. It was an unavoidable tragedy. Those always seem to find their way back to her. The one who brought your lifeless vision to Nefer had been Jahoda and Lauma. Jahoda fearful for the pain it’d bring her dear boss and Lauma clearly covered in guilt from failing to save you. They had no right. Her face didn’t betray her inner turmoil as she took it with a hum. A shame, really. She didn’t really want this. She had no use for it. Nefer could’ve sold it, but ultimately she settled on locking it away in a box to be forgotten… if there’s ever a use your vision might have in the future, only then will she relinquish it. And she won’t hesitate. “This old thing? I have no use for it, so you can just take it.”

Columbina

“Oh,” was all she could say upon learning your death. In her 500 years, she had seen many ends. It might’ve been hard to believe given how she hardly ever left, but she had seen her fair share. Columbina knew it was bound to happen to you one day, regardless of if you aged as a human or immortal being. But she had hoped it wouldn’t be for a long while, or that the two of you could possibly go together. She wouldn’t want to leave you alone, and now she’s the one without you. Just a little bit longer with you would’ve made her happy. It hurt. Strange. She knew the possibility could always happen on any day, but she never expected it when it came. Nothing could’ve prepared her for the gaping hole she’d be left with. Was this the part where people usually cried? Columbina doesn’t recall having ever done so before, and the urge still doesn’t tug at her now. She simply doesn’t have the energy to. Just your loss was enough to drain her of all of it. Lauma left her with your vision and her sympathies, and all she could say was “thank you”. Columbina sat in Silvermoon Hall with your vision in your hands. She missed the color of it. She ran her fingers over the edges and traces the gray patterns with memories playing out in her mind. Eventually she fell asleep with it in her hands, the first night of many. Columbina plans to keep it on her person. She wishes you could be there, but she’ll just have to settle with your memory in the form of your vision. “Are you perhaps watching me from the moon’s light, I wonder? Or could you still be here… in the palm of my hand?”

Kinich

“Kinich… I—I’m so sorry.” That was all he needed to hear to know what happened. Another attack from the abyss, stronger than usual assaults. Suppose this one was just too difficult for you. Mualani held your vision out to him, treating it as the most valuable object in the world. But it really wasn’t. It was just an object. Ajaw hadn’t realized what it meant at first, staring at the object while processing her words, going on and on, and Kinich wanted him to do nothing else than to shut up. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it himself this time. He could tell the moment it hit him by the way Ajaw suddenly went completely silent. Kinich haphazardly took it, walking past Mualani and anyone else unfortunate enough to have witnessed the scene. No one followed him, at least he would’ve thought if it weren’t for Ajaw’s subtle flapping in the air beside him. When he tried to speak, Kinich cut him off with a short ‘not now’ and that was the end of it. Silence the whole way home. He went straight to his room, and this time Ajaw did not follow. He threw himself next to his bed, sitting on his floor with his head in one hand and your vision in the other. If only he had known where you were, maybe he could’ve saved you. Some hero he is. Fuck. He hated crying, but he really couldn’t stop. You were gone. He wouldn’t see you smile or hear you laugh. No more jokes or quiet moments of intimacy. Just him and an rock that used to belong to you. But it was you, despite everything. He’s not sure how long he cried, because by the time he was done he had fallen asleep. Kinich woke up the next morning to the vision on his chest and Ajaw curled up asleep in his lap. From there, Kinich wore your vision beside his own. Proof that you once lived and that he had known you. A reminder to fond memories. “You’re asking about this vision? Heh… The story doesn’t have a happy ending, so you’re better off not hearing it. But I’ll tell you if you really want to know.”

[akamigi]

"no need. I already patched myself up, see?"

[magicalbats]

Risky Business (Harumasa x Reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 13,857

Warnings: Afab!reader, not gender neutral, chubby!reader, coworkers, friends with benefits, semi-public sex, risky sex, nipple play, vaginal fingering, penis in vagina, wall sex, condoms to bareback (he takes it off), creampie, sexual photos

A/N: I'm very glad to have this done and ready to post, considering how long I've been working on it. lol With this one I think I just hit a major mental roadblock with the direction I was originally taking it in for the last quarter or so of the fic. I ended up scrapping that and reworking it, and I'm much happier with it now! I hope you guys enjoy it too!

⭐

Your phone lights up at your elbow, signaling a new alert. 

You’d gotten into the habit of leaving it set to silent during work hours after learning your lesson the hard way one too many times, hoping to avoid the growing ire of the sometimes strict Tsukishiro in doing so. Something about distractions and nonwork related calls, or so she’d said. Even though Section 6 was perhaps the most frequently and easily distracted department you’ve ever worked in but hey, who was splitting hairs? It was still better to be safe than sorry, and you turn to glance at the screen with a quick, habitual flick of your eyes. 

In truth, you half expect to see an email notification staring back at you that you couldn’t care less about, already bracing to disregard it. But what you find instead makes your stomach wrench with such a sudden jerk that it almost steals your breath away. 

‘That’s a cute skirt you’ve got on today. Anything fun underneath?’ The message reads before blinking back to black another second later. 

You don’t have to look at the sender name to know who it was from but you reach out to tap the screen and do so anyway. It’s just as you’d suspected. Asaba Harumasa. 

Your colleague and convenient deskmate who sits right next to you whenever he bothered to show up for work at all. His chair was usually left vacant more often than it was occupied, but he’d decided to grace the office with his presence on this fine Tuesday afternoon. Lucky you. 

Tipping your head ever so slightly, you peek over at the man in question from the corner of your eye. He’s leant all the way back in his seat, reclining with one arm tucked under his head to act as a cushion of sorts and with his chin pressed to his sternum while he pretends to read through the paperwork he picks up off his desk in the other hand. 

It nearly registers as a surprise that he doesn’t have his feet kicked up on the table too, but the reason for that is obvious enough — and it has nothing to do with Tsukishiro’s mother hen clucking. 

Discreetly following the lean line of his body, your gaze naturally wanders down to his open lap and the wide, invitational spread of his legs. It was clearly intentional, meant to catch and draw your attention, which it succeeds at with spectacular results. The way he has his feet braced so far apart like that it’s not exactly difficult to imagine yourself getting down on the floor, crawling between them and … 

You snap your attention back to the darkened screen of your phone. The notification was still sitting there, marked unread, and it pops up again when you lift the rectangular device in your hand. As casual as can be, you punch in your passcode to open the text message and type a response.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ 

You hit send. Five seconds later you hear the telltale buzz of a single alert just to your left and then silence reclaims the room again. 

Carefully lifting your attention, you glance at the other set of desks across from yours to check that Tsukishiro was still absorbed in her work and not glaring daggers at the two of you in quiet disapproval. Your stealth seems to have paid off though, and she doesn’t even look up from the glow of her computer monitor. Good. Hoshimi and Soukaku were out at the moment so as long as you weren’t too obvious about it, you and Asaba shouldn’t have anything at all to worry about. 

You lower your gaze back down when a faint rustle from the next desk over indicates that he’s bringing his phone up to look at your response. A short moment passes and then your screen flickers to life again. 

‘I would, actually. Maybe we should sneak out of here and you can show me?’

A starburst of warmth erupts inside your chest, setting off that fluttery butterfly feeling you hated so much with a vengeance. But, giving your head a brief shake, you tell yourself to play it cool and shoot off another quick message, feigning reproach. 

‘No way. I’d rather not end up on the receiving end of another lecture, thank you. You’ve already missed too many days this month anyway.’

His next reply comes fast. 

‘I didn’t realize you were paying that much attention to me! I’m seriously flattered. (˵˘ ³˘˵)’

It takes a great deal of self control on your part not to roll your eyes at the kissy face emoticon at the end. He certainly knew how to goad a reaction out of you with all of his teasing but, well. That’s kind of what got you into this predicament with him in the first place. Not that you were necessarily complaining, though. 

You start to type again. 

‘This department is too small not to notice an absence.’ You tell him in your next reply. ‘But maybe we could do something after work?’

His phone quietly buzzes and he shifts in his seat not even six feet away from you, like he was starting to get antsy. Impatient. 

You’re so hyper aware of his presence that it makes your own anticipation swell entirely against your will and you start to feel a bit hot under the collar of your smart black blazer. Even knowing this was ill advised for a multitude of perfectly reasonable reasons, you can’t quite seem to convince yourself to stop playing this game with him. 

Asaba was a good lay in bed, to be sure, and well worth any risk that might come with it. But you were the newest member of Section 6 and you lacked the seniority he had. If you were caught flirting on the clock like this there was no safety net in place to protect you. It was dangerous. 

But somehow that danger seems to work as an effective aphrodisiac to spice up what would have otherwise been an unremarkable office fling, and you find your teeth worrying at your lip while you wait for his reply to come through. 

‘I don’t want to wait ~’ Reads his next text a small eternity later. ‘You look good enough to eat in that tight little business skirt. Do you think Yana would notice if I came over and slipped underneath your desk for a while? ¬‿¬’

Your eyes grow big and you squeeze your thighs together, an almost subconscious reaction when you read over his text and then immediately read it again. To savor it as much as to ensure you hadn’t misunderstood something in your fast mounting excitement. 

And to think, you’d briefly fantasized about doing the same to him only a few moments ago. It was a little hard to believe that someone like Asaba, so handsome and in the prime of his young adult life despite his chronic illnesses, would deem you worthy enough to potentially risk his cushy job like this. Especially when he had plenty of civilian fangirls he could have the pick of the litter from who would be more than happy to give him their time and their beds. 

Some small part of you did wonder if it wasn’t exactly that — the thrill of the forbidden that made you the more desirable option in his eyes, at least for the time being while this was still fun and exciting, but that was alright. You weren’t so willing to engage with him like this for reasons that were any better or more respectable. 

You’re so caught up in your own hazy musings, trying to decide how you should respond, that another message from him comes in before you can reply to the last. Blinking out of your reverie, you force your eyes to fix upon the letters and decipher their meaning. 

‘Did you wear that sexy outfit for me today?’

Exhaling a slow breath to ground and orient yourself, you completely abandon the report you’d been working on in favor of focusing entirely on your phone and the far more interesting messages on it. 

‘How could I have when I never know if you’re going to show up or not? Don’t start getting full of yourself now.’

His reply is almost instantaneous. ‘Or what?’

Yours is just as quick. 

‘Or I might decide to go home alone tonight.’ You decide to bluff. ‘Don’t forget that I have plenty of toys under my bed that can do just as good a job as you, and I won’t even have to say good morning to them at work tomorrow.’

A quiet laugh sounds from your left, making you smile, but both are quickly smothered when Tsukishiro’s face tilts up at the sound. You and Asaba do a good job at looking individually preoccupied, busy, and after a brief moment has passed she returns to her computer screen without question. Subtly glancing over at your deskmate, you exchange a quick, mischievous look with one another before he turns his attention back to his phone again. 

How exciting. It felt like passing notes right under a stuffy teacher’s nose in school, a secret shared only between the two of you and no one else. 

Once again, your phone lights up in your hands. 

‘Oooh, feeling feisty today, are we?’

‘Maybe a little.’

‘I have a fun idea then. Why don’t you go to the bathroom and take your bra off for me?’

That manages to stop you dead in your tracks, a cold note of uncertainty dousing some of the eager heat that curls in your gut. Slowly, your brows come to knit together as you stare down at the screen, rereading the message again and then again. You weren’t entirely sure what to make of that request, but …

‘Seriously? You want me to come back without a bra on under my clothes? Tsukishiro is right there. She’s going to notice.’

You weren’t exactly petite enough to easily hide something like that. 

But Asaba wastes no time, his thumbs flying over his screen within a matter of seconds after receiving your message. 

‘Maybe, maybe not. But I’ll definitely appreciate the view. And let’s just say I wouldn’t complain if you decided to take some pictures for me while you were at it ~’

An odd sense of consternation trickles in then, making you frown slightly. A hint of danger was all well and good but at what point did it cross the line into stupidity? Maybe if you were a little less filled out, less well endowed …

Your fingers hesitantly start to work over the keyboard. 

‘We’re getting awfully close to sexting while on the job, don’t you think? What am I supposed to do if Tsukishiro writes me up?’ 

‘She won’t. Don’t worry so much.’

This time you can’t help but roll your eyes at Asaba’s blasé attitude. That was quite easy for him to say, wasn’t it? He had enough seniority under his belt to maybe get off with nothing more than a write up if the two of you were discovered behaving so inappropriately with each other. But you on the other hand … 

Unfortunately for the longevity of your career, you were already feeling a bit too damp between the legs, a little too keyed in on the warm pulse of your own cunt to ignore the temptation he presented. Your panties were beginning to dampen where liquid arousal was slowly seeping out and even the slightest shift in your posture seemed to draw your attention to that uncomfortable fact. 

Perhaps you were the problem for being too easily riled up, too easy to persuade when it was your pussy doing the thinking for you, but burn everything, you did want to play with him. Not later, not at his place or yours. You wanted it now. Even if it was stupid and somehow juvenile, he made you want to act impulsively, damn the consequences. 

Valiantly, you wrestle with this urge for another moment longer but it soon becomes apparent that you’re losing the fight and what should have been outright rejection of the idea quickly turns into bargaining. Maybe going through with this harebrained idea and ignoring your better judgement wouldn’t truly hurt anything, and the two of you could slip out together on your lunch break later. That sounded like a good plan to you. It was just your bra, after all. It’s not like he’d asked you to strip down completely naked. 

It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you just went along with it for a little while. 

Before you can think any better of it or second guess yourself, you make your decision and jump to your feet quicker than you’d meant to. 

That sudden rush of movement successfully catches Tsukishiro’s attention though and she glances up in question. But your face feels much too hot for you to meet her eyes, and you quickly turn your attention elsewhere in the room. You probably looked guilty as hell. What exactly were you supposed to say now? 

“I’m going to the restroom.” You blurt as soon as the thought strikes you, purposefully snatching up your purse from the corner of the desk to brandish it like some kind of childish hall pass. 

Giving her glasses a quick adjustment, Tsukishiro glances at your bag and seems to consider its importance for a brief moment before nodding her understanding. 

You’re not entirely sure what passes between you and her in that moment but you suspect it has something to do with your shared experience as women in the workforce, something that no amount of differing backgrounds or privileged familial situations could erase. She likely wouldn’t interrogate you for that reason alone and that very well might be the only thing that saves your ass. Thank god for that! 

Taking care not to so much as glance in Asaba’s direction, you do a quick about face and march towards the door with single minded intent. This may have been a huge mistake in the making but the low, eager throb that spreads through your loins assures you it’s one you’ll regret far more if you don’t take the chance and capitalize on it now while you can. 

At least until the high wore off, anyway. You might feel differently about the situation then. 

Out in the hall, you make quick work of clearing the length of the corridor and rounding the corner at the end, following the same path you’ve walked a hundred times now to get to the personnel bathroom on the opposite side of the floor. You only pass one other H.A.N.D employee on your way there, keeping your head down to hide the nervous anticipation in your eyes from any potential discovery.

Finally you reach the restrooms, slipping in unnoticed to do a quick, cautious sweep of the sterile room to ensure you’re alone and there isn’t someone hiding in any of the stalls. Satisfied, you lock yourself inside the one farthest back from the door with your heart lodged in your throat. You feel liable to burst right then and there when you consider what you’re about to do, but your pulse is thrumming a little too hard for you to stop now. 

Carefully, you hang your purse on one side of the double pronged hook anchored to the door and then shrug out of your blazer to do the same with it. Your fingers faintly tremble as you work to unbutton the white blouse you had on underneath, peeling it off so you can likewise toss it over the rest of your belongings. Suddenly finding yourself standing there in only your bra makes you run ten degrees hotter, and you anxiously look down at your breasts in thoughtful examination. 

And quickly decide that they were much too big for you to get away with this. 

There wasn’t a single person alive who wouldn’t notice the lack of support or modest padding to stop your nipples from poking through, let alone the sharp eyed Tsukishiro. Your tits were simply too filled out, too heavy. And the building was kept far too cool to do anything but betray your indiscretions to the world. You’d have to wear your jacket buttoned up for the rest of the day until you could sneak off and properly dress yourself again. 

It’s a somehow exhilarating prospect though, a unique rush unto itself, and you eagerly reach behind you to unclasp the metal eyelets between your shoulderblades. You hadn’t thought yourself much of an exhibitionist before this but it does seem to hold some merit now, strangely enough. 

With some finagling, the material loosens around your ribcage and the cups fall away from your chest as you slide the undergarment off. A fresh surge of hot arousal shoots through your thrumming nervous system at the sensation of your nipples already stiffened to eager points, making your pussy squeeze around nothing at the promise of direct, delicious friction.

The haze of arousal returns a hundred fold when you glance down at yourself again, this time seeing an abundance of soft, malleable flesh that demanded to be squeezed, pinched and kneaded, bitten and suckled. You can’t quite stop yourself from lifting a hand to your chest, cupping it around one breast to lift and massage its weight. Too eager to deny yourself the opportunity but it would feel even better when Asaba was the one doing it, you already knew. 

Biting your lower lip to stifle any number of embarrassing sounds that might try to slip out, you allow yourself a moment to just play with your nipples until they’re achingly tight, coiled little points that stick straight up off your tits in eager search for more. 

More friction, more singular attention. Something, anything more substantial than your own fingers that feel somehow delicate when you touch yourself like this. 

You don’t have the time to get caught up in such indulgences though, the small voice of reason in the back of your mind helpfully reminds you. Whatever Tsukishiro assumed you were doing would only work as an alibi for so long. Your absence would be missed eventually. And as much as you wanted to slide your skirt off and step out of it, spread your legs wide so you could reach down the front of your pantyhose and rub your cunt to shuddering, aching relief, you knew you couldn’t afford to spend that much time away from your desk. 

Plus, what if someone came into the bathroom while you were desperately fingering yourself, what would you even do then? 

No, it was simply too risky. 

Fishing your phone out of the pocket on your blazer where you’d slipped it, almost without even realizing, you take a few quick selfies with the camera from a handful of different angles. You stop only long enough to give them a quick once over before deciding to send Asaba one with your arm curled underneath your tits to make them look even more full and juicy than they did anyway. A mouth watering sneak peek of how you would be returning to your desk, hopefully.  

You’re much wetter now than when you’d started as you pull your shirt back on, trying to ignore the way your stiff nipples press up into the fabric and cling to it, each soft brush of the material leaving you wanting for more. Then comes your jacket which you button shut to hopefully hide the lack of undergarments from any lingering, curious eyes that weren’t his. 

It’s an odd sensation of being naked and yet not at the same time, which you desperately try to overlook as you stuff your bra as far down inside your purse as it will go before stepping out of the stall. Slowly walking up to the row of sinks on the opposite side of the room, you take a good long look at your reflection and promptly conclude that you were a fool for going along with this. 

Not only was it painfully obvious that your breasts had no support under your clothes but the effect of it makes you look a bit frumpy. Misshapen, in a way. Your smart black blazer wasn’t supposed to sit like this on your body, and that was obvious enough to make a smidgen of doubt creep into your mind. 

Was Asaba really going to find this as enticing as he thought he would, or … was he going to end up disappointed in the reality of your body? 

It’s not as if he hadn’t seen it before, utterly bare and without even a scrap of fabric left to hide any of the soft, cushiony places on your figure. But, to be fair, both of you had been rather preoccupied with other, more pressing matters in those instances. The mutual understanding of wanting to get off with each other took precedent before anything else, of course, and you’d stuck to that initial agreement flawlessly up til’ now. 

This felt a bit different though. Somehow more vulnerable outside the safety of his or your respective apartments. It was a daunting thought for sure. 

You’ve already wasted enough time though, so you take one last look at yourself in the mirror, straighten your jacket to the best of your ability, and then turn towards the door. 

The trek back to the Section 6 office space is a much slower one, thanks to the awkward, self conscious feeling of being nude-but-not-really as much as the uncertainty that weighs heavy on your shoulders. Luckily you pass no one this time and when you finally make it back to the now familiar room, you pause outside the door to draw a deep breath. Calm your nerves, in as much as you can, and brace for the worst case scenario. If he looked at you with anything other than heated, masculine desire, you could just flee back to the bathroom and pretend this never happened. Easy enough.

Or so you try to tell yourself. 

Because you and Asaba weren’t actually together in any real sense of the word, so it wouldn’t be the end of everything you loved and cherished if he did decide this wasn’t quite what he’d envisioned it to be. Rejection would sting but not as badly as it otherwise might have if the two of you had been more committed leading up to this. Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, whatever you wanted to call it. This was just for fun either way and your long term happiness didn’t rest in his hands. If he decided he didn’t like what he saw you could just as easily find someone else to roll around in the sheets with instead. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. You weren’t without options. 

Resolve adequately steeled now, you grab the doorknob and give it a good twist to yank it open.

Keeping your head held high instead of bashfully cowering, you take a confident step inside only to pull up short when you find the room to be one less occupant than when you’d left it. 

Undeniably surprised by this finding, your fingers tighten their death grip on your purse as you glance from the now empty desk of your coworker to regard the rest of the office space at large, scanning. 

“Where is Tsukishiro?” You ask, even going so far as to dumbly glance up at the ceiling as if she might be hiding in the paneling overhead. 

“Oh, just on her way to save the day. She got a call from Soukaku and ran right out to go meet up with them, so the usual.” Asaba grins over at you from where he was now seated atop his desk like some kind of charming but no less troublesome after school delinquent.

You swing your attention around to stare at him in utter befuddlement, and something in your expression seems to make his smile waver. 

“Hey, what’s with the face, huh? It’s good news for us, isn’t it? Means we get the whole office to ourselves for a little while. I figured you’d be happy about that. I know I certainly am.” He says with a cheeky, pointed wave of his phone in your direction. He’d seen the photo you sent him, then. 

“That’s true. And I am, of course.” You relent, slowly shutting the door behind you before making your way over to the safety of your empty chair. “Is everything alright though? It sounds like she left in a hurry.” 

“Nah, nothing happened. Apparently Soukaku just forgot her wallet today. She called to see if Yanagi could transfer some money to Miyabi’s account so she could pay for their food together and instead of doing the easy thing, she went rushing across town to take care of it herself. You know how she is.” He shrugs at that, just as unconcerned about this as he is with everything else. So typical. 

“Yeah. I do.” You murmur. 

Setting your purse down in its usual spot on the desk, you try very hard to wrap your head around this peculiar twist of fate. It felt like you’d just had the rug ripped right out from under you, and you were still trying to reconcile it in your mind. You’d fortified yourself for one thing, not … this. 

Being left alone with him in the office had increased the danger rating of this situation by a not insignificant margin, and you could already tell you were about to make a huge mistake. It seemed like an inevitability at this point. 

But Asaba doesn’t seem to have any of the same reservations though, and he playfully wheedles you as he hops down from his perch to follow in your wake. 

“Oh, come on. At least try to sound a little excited about it. It’s not like this is a trap or anything, so just relax.” 

Lifting your head, you peer up at him across the small distance that separates your height from his when he comes to stand next to you, offering up a sly waggle of his brows. 

“Luckily it looks like we get to be alone with each other after all.” He goes on. “I’ll admit, I’m pretty glad for it. I’ve been rock hard ever since you sent that picture.”

Somehow that manages to pierce through the disarming fog hanging over your head and you shoot a quick glance at the front of his slacks before you can catch yourself. Sure enough, the stiff outline of him is pressed against the interior placket to make for the most enticing bulge you’ve ever set eyes on, inviting and perfectly grabbable. 

You immediately start to warm up to him again, the reassurance of his attraction doing wonders to ease your concerns. It was still risky and inadvisable to engage with him here of all places, but at least you now knew he found you attractive even in the light of day, not just the dim seclusion of your sofa. Maybe you’d been worried about nothing after all. 

“Well, I’m glad you liked it.” You intone, rolling your eyes back up to his face with a knowing smile, which he eagerly mirrors back at you. 

“Woah, now. Don’t sell yourself short. I’d say I more than liked it. And you look good, by the way, just as I knew you would. I mean, yeah, Yanagi definitely would’ve noticed. You weren’t wrong about that. But, to be fair, so did I. As soon as you opened the door I could tell those pretty tits of yours were just one simple squeeze away.” 

“Oh?” You draw a slow, anticipatory breath, standing up a little straighter with the inhale. Eager for the pin to drop so you could see where it would fall, and how. “Should I even bother asking for you to elaborate?” 

His long, dark, pretty eyelashes drooping slightly, he gives you a slow look over, dragging his gaze from the top of your head down to the toes of your modest black heels. The fact that he doesn’t recoil or intentionally avoid looking at any part of you only seems to further seal your ultimate demise at his hands. Yes, yes, you were willing to take any number of risks as long as he kept staring at you like that. 

“Honestly? It made me feel like a dog. Seriously. Don’t laugh. The moment I saw you I wanted to toss you down on this desk and make you scream my name, even if Yanagi was still here to see it.”

Flustered heat races up your neck at that admission, heartbeat galloping out of control when those words seem to hit their mark dead center in your gut. The way he unflinchingly looks into your face when he says it doesn’t exactly help matters either. Intense, heated. Perfectly sincere. 

It’s almost too much for you to handle, especially when it was framed against the stark, contrary feelings of embarrassment and self deprecating worry you’d wrestled with in the bathroom. They’d followed you all the way here like a dogged, persistent shadow, but now they were dissipating into thin air like mist chased away by the warmth of the sun.  

Your confidence was quickly returning now, and you giggle a quietly tittering laugh. “Stop. You don’t mean that.” 

“I do.” He insists, taking another step forward to really get in your space now. 

And you blink at that abrupt motion, mildly surprised to find him standing over you. His height is not so great as to make you feel overly small or diminutive in comparison, even when you were toe to toe like this. But standing there with you, carnal intent radiating off of him and with the full brunt of his honeyed eyes fixed attentively upon you — on your vulnerable breasts sitting just underneath your clothes, it makes you feel more than a bit weak in the knees. 

You take a shuffling step back, pussy throbbing at the close proximity, and he follows you. A predator tracking its prey. A man with his sights set on burying his cock as deep as he can go into the woman he’s decided he wants all to himself, at least in this moment. It was almost intimidating, in a way, and it was a brand new development in your mutual agreement, a new spice added to everything else that already flavored this exciting dynamic. 

Holding the air in your lungs, you instinctively back up another step. “Do you really want to do this here though? What if we get caught?” 

He matches your step again, keeping pace. “I don’t see why not. I have pretty good hearing. I’ll know if someone is coming.” 

Another step. “I don’t want either of us to get in trouble, Asaba.” 

Another. “We won’t. Just trust me, okay? And didn’t I tell you to call me by my name when it’s only us?” 

Your back suddenly hits the wall on the next shuffling step. You swallow hard. 

“Sorry. Force of habit.”

He shakes his head, both hands sedately lifting and coming up to brace against the boring office paint on either side of your head to trap you and cage you in. “Nothing to apologize for. We are still at work, aren’t we? Easy mistake.” 

The way he winks at you makes your face light up like a goddamn firework, as excited by the adrenaline rush of flirting in public as you are nervous about being discovered with him like this. It’s enough to make you squirm in place while your heart positively jackhammers inside your chest, equally torn between the two even as you look up at him in quickly growing hunger. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“You sound so sure of yourself. Did you actually plan this out somehow?” 

“Hah. Sorry to disappoint but you’re giving me far too much credit here. I wish I had that kind of ability. I can barely even plan what I’m going to have for dinner most days.” He drawls, still smiling. Always smiling. But there’s no missing the tight, masculine edge in his expression now. The tension in his face. “I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth though, or squander a perfectly good chance that’s fallen into my lap. I promise you’re safe with me, sweetheart. I won’t let anyone catch us, alright? So just do me a favor and make sure you keep saying my name for me, so I know you haven’t forgotten it. Not that I’d let you, but …” 

The slow, anticipatory breath you pull in makes your chest swell, pressing out towards him as if in offering as you feel yourself start to foolishly succumb to his entreaty. 

Asaba — no, Harumasa tracks the motion with those sharply cat-like eyes, a need so great reflected in them that it seems to span the entire existence of the human race. Was this the same way the first man looked at the first woman? Like she was everything the world had to offer, an entire Eden promised between her thighs where he could finally rest and be at peace. If you didn’t know any better you might have almost mistaken him as someone looking upon salvation itself. 

“God, you’re so cute when you get all flustered like this. I really could just eat you up … may I?” He asks, indicating your jacket with an intentional nudge of his chin. Seeking your approval, your permission, and further cementing that fanciful thought in the back of your mind. 

At your halting nod, Harumasa slides one hand off the wall to brush over your shoulder, coming down right on top of your breast. His palm is big and wide when he carefully places it over the full center to slightly lift its plushy weight, long fingers splayed out wide. Squeezing slowly, he seems to revel in the sensation of bare flesh moving under the pressure even though it was still through two layers of clothing. That hardly seems to deter him though, and he rumbles a low sound of wanting as he then drags his hand inward towards the center of your chest. 

Here he works the buttons loose, one at a time, until your jacket falls open with a slither of fabric brushing against fabric. Your breath starts to come in shallow pulls now, labored with anticipation as he moves first one side of the blazer back and out of the way before repeating the process on the other so that it hangs around your shoulders. Suddenly the only thing standing in the way between his skin and yours is the thin layer of your button up. 

A quick, split second glance down at yourself shows your nipples still hard and tight, poking up through the material in attention grabbing peaks. You start to feel faint as Harumasa reaches for your breast again … 

And lightly flicks his pointer finger over one of the coiled buds, knocking it first one way and then the other when he brings the digit back down. You let out a faint hiss through your clenched teeth and subconsciously arch your back into the sensation, offering your chest up to his playful whims. 

“Look at these, sitting so nice and pretty for me,” he practically coos, teasing you with his voice as much as his hands. “You took so long to come back that I was starting to wonder if you’d had second thoughts, but I’m glad you didn’t. I like getting to see you like this.” 

“Ooh … and why is that?” 

Humming a lightly mischievous sound, Harumasa slides his other hand down to toy with the opposite tit as well, batting the hardened nipple much the same as the first. Back and forth, back and forth, up and down. Just flicking, nudging, prodding your teats until they tightly ache. 

“Well, that might be a bit of a complicated answer. It’s not hard to imagine this is my shirt you’re wearing, for starters. Might be an even tighter fit if it were though. Maybe it wouldn’t even close? My chest isn’t quite as filled out as yours.” 

A low, masculine chuckle slips out of him at the thought and you find yourself full on shuddering in response. He was certainly right about that.  

It was hardly any secret that Harumasa is much more svelte than you, and whether that was due to simple genetics or the long list of illnesses and ailments he claimed to have, you couldn’t say. But you’d been acutely aware of it the first time he’d invited you into his apartment and, as these things so often go, you’d found yourselves falling into his couch cushions in embarrassingly short order. You’d briefly worried about hurting him then, especially if he was half as frail as he often made himself out to be, but he’d seemed to truly revel in your softness, the plushy give he could grab onto. If nothing else he was at the very least surprisingly sturdy, you had to give him credit for that. 

But you hadn’t expected him to keep coming back, wanting more of you, your body and your time in equal measure, always coaxing you into action like this. The ego boost of his attention was starting to make you foolhardy, as evidenced by the fact that you were currently letting him play with your tits in the office. What an idiot you were …

Tipping your head back to bump against the wall, you peer up at him through the thicket of your lashes even as he continues to rub his fingers over the tips of your breasts, back and forth. Back and forth, up and down, side to side.

“Surely you must have some shirts that aren’t quite so … so fitted?” 

Harumasa shrugs, still frustratingly lacking in urgency. “If not I can always buy some.” 

“Just for me? That’s starting to sound not so casual anymore.” 

A quick laugh, like you’d sucker punched it out of him. “I'm not too worried about that. Titles and names are just that. Nothing more and nothing less. Personally, I’m much more interested in the experience itself than in thinking about what to call it.” 

That was a fair enough stance, even if you don’t quite believe it at face value. His argument was acceptably convincing though, especially when he was relentlessly playing with your nipples through the flimsy fabric of your shirt, and you decide to just let it go. That could be a discussion for another day. 

Besides, you were getting much too caught up in the heat of the moment to argue with him right now. 

“As long as we’re both having fun,” he goes on, when your only response is a low, reluctant moan of fast budding pleasure. “That’s all that really matters to me. And I think you’re enjoying yourself perfectly fine, aren’t you? So let me have my little fantasy, yeah?” 

“Mmm … you can fantasize about whatever you want as long as — oohn, you touch me somewhere else, Harumasa.” You murmur, shuddering as you arch towards him and almost subconsciously jut your chest further out. Your nipples were so, so stiff … 

Laughing a rumbling sound of anticipation, he shifts his big hands to position thumb and forefinger over those tight little buds, pinching them and tugging. Such a sharp jab of friction-induced delight thrills through your body that your knees turn in, going momentarily bow legged as you struggle to maintain your upright posture instead of hunching forward. You had a feeling he’d just follow you even if you tried, utterly fascinated by the sensitivity of your breasts, but you weren’t sure how much more of this teasing inaction you could stand. Your panties felt like they were glued to your cunt now. 

“Aww, you want me to show the rest of you some attention too? How cute. I’d love to, you know, but … your nipples just get so very, very hard for me when I play with them like this.” He says, pulling on those sharply pointed teats until you finally let slip a faltering, threadbare mewl that seems to bounce off the walls around you. “Such pretty sounds for a pretty girl … you’re not gonna’ hold out on me just because we’re in the office and you’re scared of getting caught, are you?” 

You wheeze a horribly distracted sound in reply, eyes screwing shut while you helplessly palm at the wall behind you in an attempt to ground yourself. It doesn’t really work though. Your tits felt so heavy, so pronounced where they swell up off your body underneath the lightweight shirt that it’s all you can think about or focus on. His question seems to go in one ear and out the other, yet something still manages to stick. You consider it with no shortage of Herculean effort. Clench your teeth and shake your head, whimpering. 

He rewards you with another quietly breathy laugh for your trouble. 

“Good. Then let me hear you, sweetheart.”

And that’s the only warning you get. 

Reaching up with both hands, he grabs at the upper part of your arms now and firmly turns you in place. Your head spins slightly from the unexpected movement and you nearly trip over your own feet in the process, but Harumasa presses himself flush against your back to pin you there, ensuring you don’t stumble or fall. The pointed nudge of his erection jabbing into your ass makes your knees go instantly weak and you jerk your hands up to slam them against the wall, groaning a harried sound. 

His dexterous fingers descend upon your body in the same heartbeat to grab and pinch, squeezing at lovehandles, your hips, the meaty pudge between your thighs. And through it all he just slowly grinds his hips into you from behind, teasing you with the promise of what was to come, the threat of really taking you right then and there in the same office you shared with the rest of Section 6. 

You’re ashamed at how much it actually excites you, the way your pussy drools excessively even while your heart wildly jackhammers inside your chest. You were scared, yes, and unbelievably turned on at the same time too. You’d never done anything quite like this before.  

The thought of telling him to stop does cross your mind, very briefly, but it doesn’t stick, disappearing almost as quickly as it appeared. Banished from existence by the sensation of Harumasa’s large hands pawing at your little black skirt when he tugs and pulls at it incessantly to get the material rolled up over your hips.

In very short order he’s got it bunched haphazardly around your middle and you shudder at the sensation of being indecently exposed from the waist down. The waft of cool air brushing against your legs and your ass through the nearly nonexistent barrier of your pantyhose, the rough drag of his work pants over nylon. It was an overwhelming cacophony of feeling and sound, somehow stark against the backdrop of the otherwise still and silent room. 

If you’d had any lingering doubts they were certainly long gone by this point, thoroughly dashed to nothing under his eagerly groping palms as much as your pulsing want for him. You almost couldn’t even stand it. 

“O - oohhn, Harumasa!” You groan, tipping your head back as his arms circle around you to find the top band of your pantyhose so he can tug them down. Rolling over the pudge of your stomach, exposing more bare skin, only to stop when he gets them pulled just under your bellybutton. 

Moving quickly, eager now, he worms one of his hands inside your stockings and reaches further down to really stretch the nylon, making you gasp when the elastic material digs into your waist as a result. But he finds the front of your panties in the next moment, fingers deftly working, and you immediately forget to complain about the treatment of your clothes. 

At the same time, his other hand curls back up to latch onto your breast again, giving it a too tight squeeze. You rise up on your toes with a faltering moan, grinding your ass over the hard jab of his cock as you clutch fitfully at the wall. He lets out a soft exhale in response and tucks his face in close, mouth descending upon your neck to kiss and nibble the pounding pulse point there. 

He’s still fumbling with your underwear in the constrictive confines of your pantyhose but with a bit of patience he finally manages to slip those long digits inside. They brush over the trimmed hair on your cunt, inspiring a low seethe, before stretching further down to find the seam of your fleshy slit. The sheer extent of your arousal becomes glaringly apparent the second he touches you there, an excess of sticky slick smearing over his fingers. 

Rattling a needy little sound, you jut your pelvis forward to better offer up your pussy to his machinations, and he takes quick advantage of that to press into the meat of your labia. Parting the lips, delving into the clinging, viscous mess he’s made of you, Harumasa quickly feels out your clit and sets in to rub it. Slow and steady, yet firm. Practiced. He knew exactly where to touch you and how much pressure to apply, what speed would net the best results.

It almost seemed a bit unfair, if you were being honest.

“Damn. You’re already this wet, baby? I had no idea you needed me that badly.” He murmurs into your neck, a hint of taunting amusement coloring those hotly whispered words. 

You’d like to deny it, lest he got the wrong idea and start to think you really were an exhibitionist of the highest order. That sex in public got you off more than it terrified you. But you can’t quite seem to find your voice now, especially when his opposite hand starts to pluck at your poor, throbbing nipple again, right through your shirt. 

Moaning a huffy sound, you instead push back on him and arch your spine to better shove your tits up for him to play with. He was well aware how much you liked it and he seems to take a great deal of pleasure in it too, reaching over to give the opposite side a brief, enthusiastic tweak that has you trembling fitfully in response. 

But he’s quick to pull away and focus his attention on the buttons in the middle, tugging to get them loosened with the use of only one hand. Your bubbling excitement spikes another degree at the promise of skin on skin contact, tipping your chin down to watch him work the blouse open only far enough to give your breasts room to spill out.

And they readily do just that, too much bountiful flesh for the flimsy shirt alone to contain, hitting the air with a muted, weighty bounce that makes your teats ache. They’re hard enough to cut glass now, sticking straight up off your body in search of more, more, more, which Harumasa is all too happy to give them. 

“Holy shit, girlie.”

Whistling a quiet sound over your shoulder, he brings his hand back up to pinch his fingers around your left nipple, giving it a slow, savory tug that makes your toes curl in their shoes. 

“Just look at those pretty tits, so full and juicy for me. I really am surprised you don’t have every man in the building banging down the door just for a single chance, you know. Guess I really must be lucky.” 

“Stop.” You hiss, turning your face away. Convinced you didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t deserve to hear it. 

Harumasa remains ever undeterred though, and he tugs at your stiff teat even more keenly as the fingers on your cunt speed up their ministrations by a small margin. Just enough to make you twitch and cant your hips into a stilted rocking motion while your pussy positively floods with arousal.

“Oh, come on. Don’t say that. I can tell how much you like it when I tease you like this. See? Your nipples always get so fat and puffy the more I play with them, and you know … sometimes I wonder if you could orgasm just from that. Have you ever tried?” 

You shake your head even as you let out a whiny, faltering mewl of pure want. He was right about everything he’d said, of course, but you didn’t know if it was something you were capable of — and you absolutely hated how much the thought of finding out excited you. It would make for a resoundingly fun experiment, at least. 

“Please, no.” You finally manage to gasp. “Some other time. Not now.” 

“Alright, alright. It’s a promise then.” He croons at you, laughing under his breath. 

Switching his hand to the other breast to give it the same attention, he uses the opposite set of fingers to delve deeper into your slick folds, parting the lips around his digits when he reaches even further back. Searching for your entrance, you realize, a split second before he finds it and thrusts the first two of those long fingers up inside of you. 

No buildup, no taunting or teasing. Your cunt is just suddenly stuffed, forced to stretch around the intrusion, and you shake so hard your legs threaten to dump you right on your ass. Harumasa’s sturdy presence behind you appears to be the only thing keeping you upright anymore as you blurt a frazzled sound of immense pleasure, shuddering wildly from head to toe. 

“O - ouughn! God!”

“That’s it, baby. Just like that. Let it all out for me.”

You might have scoffed if you’d had the extra oxygen in your lungs to do so, because you really don’t seem to have much of a choice in the matter. Between the fingers eagerly pumping at your inner sleeve, dragging along your guts, the sharp tug on your throbbing nipple and the ever present jut of his erection digging into your ass, you clearly didn’t have much of a say in any of it. All you can do is quiver fitfully in his arms, hips bucking up into the pressure of his hand, and try to stifle the screams of ecstasy that rapidly build in your chest. 

It was close to being too much, especially when you recalled where he was doing all this to you at. If you didn’t know good and well that you were standing in the office at work you might almost have believed he was fucking you in the safety of your own apartment, that’s how vigorously he toys with your tautly overstrung body. Like he didn’t have a care in the world or any concern of getting caught.

He really was something else. 

“Haru - - ahhn! Goddammit … s - slow down!”

Chuckling behind you, he does the exact opposite of that and instead speeds up the thrusting motion of his hand, the heel of his palm firmly smacking and grinding into your swollen clit now. His sly fingers twisting your nipple a little harder, more intently. 

“Just trying to make sure you’re nice and ready for me, sweetheart. I’m not sure how much time we’ll have so we have to be quick and make it count … but I’ll be sure to make it up to you later tonight after work, okay? Promise.” 

Turning his head, Harumasa plants a hard, lingering kiss to your blazing cheek as if to seal the deal. You just whine a helpless little sound though, unable to do much of anything else. Especially not when he leans his weight further into you then, really pinning you up against the wall to trap his arm in the middle. But even then his fingers don’t stop pumping at your softly squelching cunt, and your eyes start to roll back when he grinds his cock into your backside even more fervently, humping you just like the dog he’d likened himself to earlier. You felt like you were going to pass out. 

“P - please …” you seethe into the drywall where your face is pressed, precariously balancing on your tip toes as you stretch out underneath him like a languid cat. It felt like you were seconds away from drooling all down your front if you weren’t careful as your tongue drunkenly lolls around inside your mouth. “Want your cock. Give it to me, Harumasa. Please.” 

He groans a heady sound in response, giving a full bodied twitch that your own body mirrors right back at him. Feeding off of and into each other, but thankfully he still finds the grace to heed your breathless plea. 

The fingers inside your cunt indeed slow to a standstill, but he leaves them wedged where they are while he shifts around behind you to lean further over your shoulder. The hand on your tit falls away and comes up to grab under your chin, forcing your head back as you're made to look up at him with a firm nudge. 

And he kisses you, hard and fast, so much pent up kinetic energy passing between the two of you in that static charged moment that your guts sensitively squeeze down on his digits where they remain buried. It steals what little bit of oxygen you still had left and you gasp into his mouth, practically wheezing, while he devours you. 

You’re not entirely sure how long both of you stand there like that, caught up in a hazy, purgatorial state of mutual wanting, the heightened tension ringing around you. But at length when he finally pulls back to look in your eyes, the tight edged expression on his face assures you that this is it. Your last chance to make a better decision for yourself and back out. You could still change your mind about all of this. 

But you really don’t want to. 

So you just hiss a quiet sound as he eases out of your slicking cunt before dragging his hand up to slip free of your pantyhose. Lingering another moment against your back, Harumasa reaches for your face to press those soaking wet digits to your lips and you readily open your mouth to accept them with a groan. Tasting yourself on his skin even as you sink further into the wall, utterly boneless. So ready to feel his cock moving inside of you. To have this tortuous pressure within your loins soothed and dealt with. 

He’s quick to pull out though, fully aware of how much more precarious this situation would become the longer it went on. His hands fall away from you to work at his own clothes now, but he stays pressed right up against your ass the whole time so you can feel the drag of his belt being loosened and the subsequent motion of his pants being shoved down to his hips in a slouch. You’re left wanting and aching, throbbing for the delicious stretch of friction that was soon to come while he fiddles around with something behind you. A crinkle of foil reaches your ears, familiar but too distant to really register in the back of your reeling, punchdrunk mind. 

In the next heartbeat his hands suddenly come back up to grab two greedy fistfuls of your plushy hips, fingers sinking into soft skin. He yanks your bottom towards him, forcing you to bend forward with your hands still braced against the wall for support. Glancing down at yourself like that while he snags at your pantyhose so he can roll them over your ass, you feel another excited spark curl through your stomach while you take in the lurid scene. 

Your heavy tits hanging out of your open shirt, nipples flushed dark and raw from his attention, your legs spread in welcome invitation with his positioned directly behind them, braced wide. The pudgy upper parts of your thighs bulging out slightly against your underwear where he leaves them half of the way down, bunched up in your stockings. It’s so starkly pornographic that your excitement ratchets up another notch, doubling and then tripling when he at last moves to position himself at your entrance. 

But not before the broad expanse of his palms find your ass to grip and to pull, forcing the cheeks into a wide spread, and you let out a flustered little squeak at the sensation of his sharp gaze on every single one of your most tender spots. In the next second you feel his cock shove up against your slit, docking over your entrance, and when he steadily starts to push in you completely forget to be embarrassed about any of it. 

You claw at the wall, mouth open as if to cry out in pleasure at the slow motion, mind numbingly intense stretch of your guts, yet nothing at all comes out. It’s like you’re hanging in the balance over some great, gaping precipice where the slightest nudge would send you careening in either direction. To your certain death below, or the heavenly heights of ecstasy up above. 

The slide of him entering you is too smooth, even taking into account the slippery state of your gummy, welcoming inner sleeve, and you abruptly realize he’d slipped a condom on before bullying his way into your cunt. That was good. At least one of you was still thinking straight, because you certainly weren’t. 

But Harumasa only sinks half of the way inside your constricting passage before he starts to lazily flex his hips, driving his cock deeper and deeper with each thrust. The whispering sound of skin moving against skin picks up in the air, accompanied by the wet squelch of bodily fluids, and you pitch forward with a wounded moan. Your legs tremble underneath your weight, threatening to give out, but you force them to straighten and nudge your ass up a bit higher so that he can hit that sensitive cluster of nerves deep within you on every upward stroke. 

He huffs behind you, grunting softly, when he finally bottoms out in you another drawn out moment later. Your inner walls throb eagerly around him as he begins to execute full, drawn out thrusts now, picking up the pace to send his cock jabbing up towards your womb. The pressure is simply too much, and the sticky grip of your pussy clinging to his rigid length only seems to add to your overwhelm. It felt like you were sinking, drowning, in a hazy, intoxicating pool of the finest wine. 

Oh, how you wished it was your bed he had you bent over so you could freely squeal in delight without the threat of anything more serious than pissing off your neighbors to worry about. 

“Fuck. I can’t believe you’re taking me this good,” he hisses, clearly distracted. Clearly focused on the effort of drilling into the hot, wet embrace of your pussy, and yet he was still intent on raining his praise upon you at the same time. Always happy to tell you what a good job you were doing. “And you look incredible like this, sweetheart. Stuffed with my dick. Ass bouncing on it. God.” 

Harumasa punctuates this with a sharp, open handed swat across the meat of one cheek, making you yelp and tighten around him. He groans a heavy sound in response to the vigorous squeeze and then does it again, leaving behind a warm, tingling mark on your skin. 

You start to look back at it, back at him, turning your head to peer over your shoulder, but he chooses that moment to lean his full weight into you. It forces you forward and he’s quick to follow, pressing himself flush against the taut line of your back. A choked off moan slips out as you’re made to lean into the wall, tits squishing under you while Harumasa bodily pins you there. Between his surprisingly sturdy frame and the hot, pulsing presence of his cock spearing you straight up the middle, you truly have no hope of wiggling free any time soon. Not until he decides to let you go. 

He’s got you so thoroughly impaled against the wall, in fact, that you can barely move now. Unable to do much of anything else, you just hiss a rattling, heady sound as he slowly drags his gripping palms across the swell of your ass, over your hips, tracing the curves of your figure until he reaches the backs of your shoulders. You half expect him to reach around and play with your tits some more, and you certainly wouldn’t have had any complaints about that. But instead he follows the line of your arms until he reaches your hands, twining his fingers with yours rather sweetly. 

Then, ever so gently, he slides your hands up along the wall until he’s got them held high over your head. So high, in fact, that it forces you back up onto your tiptoes to accommodate the stretch. 

“O - ooohhn … Harumasa!” 

Purring a rather indulgent sound, he takes a moment to just nuzzle into your hair, the side of your face, against your ear. Almost as if he wanted to scent mark you, and would if only he could. “Mmmm, good girl. My name sounds so nice when you say it like that. Just stay right there for me, okay? You feel so amazing when you squeeze me like that.” 

As if to emphasize his point, he not-so subtly flexes his cock to make it twitch where it’s wedged deep, deep inside of you, plugging your cunt full. You can feel that insidious shift churning your guts up in startling high definition, and you let loose a quietly frazzled sound of distress. It’s like he’s pushing in on every single pleasure inducing nerve within you, filling you out just right, stretching your inner sleeve straight to its limit. He feels even bigger than usual like this so it really is no wonder, then, that you feel tighter to him too. 

The noise of your little heels awkwardly shuffling on the floor sounds nearly deafening as you try to nudge your thighs further apart to better accommodate him. It’s no use though. Between the hot, stifling press of his weight along your back, the pressure of his hips making your spine curve, and the vague sting of your pantyhose cutting into your skin, you just don’t have much room to work with. You can’t quite shake the sense of being trapped, crushed, subjugated to his will, like this. 

And you positively gush around him as a result. 

Harumasa starts to move again, slowly at first as if to ensure he wasn’t going to slip out of you in this position or lose the angle he wanted. But when your body readily welcomes him back in, accepting his next stilted thrust with a quiet little squelch of excess arousal, he quickly starts to fall into a faster tempo. The flat planes of his pelvis force your ass into a beautiful arch, jiggling enthusiastically with every vigorous plap, plap, plap against your backside while his hands keep yours pinned to the wall. Completely at his mercy, all you can do is stand there and take it, gasping raggedly into the paint job. Feeling your internal temperature stoke hotter and hotter, the building tension winding you up that much more tightly each time he strokes along your quivering guts.  

You hadn’t been quite convinced that you’d be able to cum like this, when the danger was so great and any potential discovery could mean some very unfortunate consequences for you. But now you’re certain it’s only a matter of time, an inevitability, when you were thrumming like a livewire set to go off in a rain of sparks. It was almost inconceivable how intensely you pulse for him. 

“Oh! My! God!” You cry out in time with the hard, hot plunge of Harumasa’s length, as softly as you can manage it. The force of his hips nearly sends you crawling up the wall, forced into such a taut stretch that if it hadn’t been for him pinning you there you probably wouldn’t have been able to stay upright.

He groans a faltering sound in response, fingers tightening around yours as if to anchor himself there. “Ooouugghn. That’s it, baby. Just let it out. I’ve got you. Don’t be scared. Cum for me.” 

Giving your head a fierce shake, you tip your neck back to look over your shoulder at him. Imploring, begging, pleading with him to give you what you really needed. It's like you were drunk, so inebriated all of your inhibitions were lowered and there was no longer any filter between your mouth and your brain. You’re just immediately blurting the truth out before you even have a chance to give it a second thought of consideration. 

“Want — nnghnn! Want your cum, Haru. Take off the condom. P - please?” 

A strange look flashes behind his eyes, something that is both undeniably surprised to hear those words coming out of your mouth but also so very, very stricken by them. Whatever effect it has on him, mentally or physically, makes him squeeze his eyes shut for a prolonged beat as if he were trying to ground himself in reality, shuddering fiercely against you. 

“Fuck. You’re going to make me bust way too fast if you say things like that.” He finally grits out a moment later, the rhythm of his hips stuttering while he wheezes a breathless, wounded little sound. “Why would you want that right now, huh? Are you still taking your birth control?” 

It doesn’t sound like an accusation and you don’t take it that way either. You already knew perfectly well how he felt about the prospect of such accidents, which you were quite in agreement with. The both of you were still far too young to take on that kind of responsibility, early into your careers and not anywhere near ready for that big of a commitment. You didn’t want to baby trap him anymore than he wanted to be trapped. 

But you yearned to feel the rush of him shooting off deep inside of you. Craved the tangible proof that he’d decided you were well worth his time and effort, even in the light of day. That he wanted you for you.  

“Yes. This morning.” You groan, struggling to get the words out when his rigid cock was still gliding back and forth, back and forth through the mess he’s made of your insides. “I want it. Wanna’ feel you … dripping out of me for the rest of the day. Please.” 

A clipped, deeply pained laugh slips out of him, his expression pinching with something you can only think to describe as masculine anguish. Something old and ancient. Your earlier impression of the first man and the first woman once again flashes through your mind, adding an esoteric tinge to that strange little fantasy. 

“Yeah? You want me to pump you full right here in the office, baby?” He finally says, a sharp tremor working through his body as he haltingly speaks the words into existence. Like he couldn’t quite believe it himself. 

At your stilted nod, Harumasa gives his head a slow shake as if to rid it of some thick, lingering fog. But you can already tell he’s starting to give in, bending to the idea, much like you had allowed your reason to be swayed by his persuasive entreaties of you. At so many times today you could have made a different choice for yourself, siding with cautionary discretions over the promise of carnal satisfaction. And now it seemed to be his turn to weigh the same odds, to pick which path he wanted to take. 

Evidently reaching his conclusion, he rumbles a low sound of pure, unfiltered wanting as he bends his head close to yours. His lips are soft when he kisses you and yet so demanding, so emotionally charged and seeking, that you can’t help the way you mewl into his mouth even as you kiss him back over your shoulder. 

And somehow you’re not the least bit surprised when the hands on your wrists finally start to retreat, gliding back down the way they’d come. Squeezing at your ribs, your waist, your hips as he goes before finally reaching the spot where his body connected with yours. One set of fingers digs into the plump swell of your ass to nudge you forward just a pinch while the other dips between the two of you. The sensation of him slowly easing his cock out of the wet, clinging grip of your pussy has you groaning at the loss, which he readily swallows up before you can alert anyone who might be out in the hall to your illicit activities. 

Left empty and wanting, you allow yourself to fitfully squirm in place against him, writhing there on the wall. Harumasa fumbles to get the condom yanked off, noising a muffled sound of stuttering relief when he at last frees himself from its restrictive confines. Then he’s quickly shuffling right back up against you, once again poking and prodding, searching for your entrance with the fleshy head of his length. Slipping and sliding through drenched folds, he finds it and immediately starts to push back in. 

The raw heat of him overwhelms you in a flash, the firm yet silken soft flesh sinking into your labia to spread and force the meaty lips apart, granting him entry. You’d only felt a fraction of it with that barrier in the way, even for as arguably thin as it was, but now everything hits you all at once with the force of a speeding bullet train. 

You lurch underneath him and rip your mouth from his, keening a terribly overwrought sound into the air. You’re so caught up in the intense, searing, blissfully mind numbing stretch of him entering you completely bare and unobstructed that you come very close to forgetting where you are. If you could scream your pleasure for the whole building to hear, you would. Without a second thought. Consequences be damned. 

But Harumasa is quick to bring one of his hands up, curling it over your mouth to stifle the nearly hysterical sounds slipping out of you now. He gently shushes you, his voice gravelly and yet soothing at the same time. Like he was struggling to keep himself in check almost as much as you were, although he certainly did a better job of it. You couldn’t help it though. Everything is so much more intense without the condom in the way, the red hot heat and the fleshy drag of him pushing up inside of you, the rush of real friction. He’d only done this with you on a handful of other occasions, much preferring the safety of certainty than a roll of the dice gamble. 

And yet, just as every other time, this stark difference in the experience drives you absolutely wild. You shake with reckless abandon, clawing at the wall in your fast mounting ecstasy when he once again settles against the cushion of your ass. He doesn’t stay like that for very long, though, before he lets his hips freely snap and plunge, jabbing up into your guts with what seems to be the same wanton desperation you were feeling. His breath rattles out of him to puff against your face, half strangled when it catches in his throat. 

The hand over your mouth presses a little harder, then, when your ecstatic wails start to rise in pitch and volume. It seems to be taking everything he has to keep you somewhat under control while at the same time focusing the brunt of his energy on drilling into the welcoming embrace of your slicking cunt. Shaking and shuddering around you, just as you shake and judder for him. 

But that same pressure angles your neck backwards, forcing your body into a dramatic, tightly strung arch. The back of your head nearly touches his shoulder like this, leaving you staring up at the ceiling in a lulling, doped out stupor, helpless to do much of anything else except ragdoll there in his arms. Your chest peels away from the wall with the motion though, and you squeal at suddenly finding your tits bouncing in time with his energetic thrusts, puffed up, swollen nipples cutting a sharp line through the air now. 

That alone is enough to send you tipping right over the edge, the tension in your loins not only reaching its breaking point but smashing right through it. Your cunt is already starting to tighten with the first warning tremor of release — and as if that wasn’t already enough, Harumasa then reaches up across the front of your heaving body and latches onto one breast. Locating the stiff teat through touch alone, he quickly snags it between thumb and forefinger to give the sensitive bud a sharply applied tweak. 

And you shatter, just like that, devolving into such a wild fit of convulsions that Harumasa has to readjust his stance. The distant sound of his shoes shuffling wider to brace against your mindless spasms seems to echo in the space between your ears even as you shriek your pleasure into his palm. 

Groaning a deeply rattled hiss, his thrusts start to turn ginger, stilted, while you just continue to shake around him. Not as evenly tempoed as they’d once been when he was first chasing his pleasure inside the slick comfort of your body. Now he’s starting to trip over the precipice too, and it is only the blind, white hot need in his loins that keeps his cock working in and out of you, drawing your orgasm out well past the point of what was reasonable or sensible. 

He positively quakes another moment later when he finally cums with a gutted, wounded lurch, shooting off thick, creamy spurts into your constricting passage. Moaning an almost hurt little sound in your ear while he stiffly trembles through his own cresting waves of euphoria, wracking him from head to toe. You’re hyper aware of the messy discharge he leaves behind as it settles against your throbbing inner walls, warming you from the inside out even while you gradually sag against him, the two of you struggling to come down from that dizzying high. 

It’s hard, though, when your pussy was so sore with satisfaction. Still thrumming around him and the oozing, clinging gift he’s left you with, but you eventually manage. Somehow. 

Coming back to your senses one splintered piece of your consciousness at a time, you find him still raggedly trying to catch his breath. He seems to be winded, wheezing a raspy, faintly rattling sound that makes you worry he’d pushed himself a bit too hard. Harumasa wasn’t exactly the healthiest person you knew, after all. But when you carefully stir in his arms that seems to be enough to get his attention. 

Snapping out of his own sweaty reverie, he issues one last, shuddering exhale that seems to go a long way in calming his breathing. Ever so gently, he eases you down to stand on your own two feet again where you lean heavily, gratefully into the wall for added support. Your heart was still pounding a frantic rhythm in your chest, struggling to even out, but more than anything you just couldn’t believe you’d actually gone through with it. And that was to say absolutely nothing about how easily Harumasa had given in to your delirious, cock drunk pleas to pump you full of cum. He should’ve known better. You’d thought he was more in control than you were. 

It seems stark and more than a bit horrifying, in retrospect, when the post orgasm clarity starts to settle over you, leaving you understandably befuddled at your own life choices. 

But it quickly clears away when he leans in close to give your cheek a tender kiss, lingering there in the afterglow before at last pulling back to speak. 

“You did amazing just now, baby. I’m so proud of how brave you were for me. Although it does look like we’ll have to work on your volume control some more.” He says with a playful wink, making you all but wither in shame. Oh, yes. You were going to be cringing over this for some time to come. 

“Please don’t tease me right now. I can’t seem to decide if I should be embarrassed or ashamed of myself. I don’t really know what I was thinking, especially when I said all of that … craziness there at the end. Sorry about that, by the way.”  

That earns you a soft laugh and a reassuring squeeze around your middle. “Don’t apologize. I didn’t think it was all that crazy. If anything, it just made this an even more unforgettable experience than it was already going to be. You’re adorable when you ask so sweetly for me to give you my cum, by the way.” 

You stammer, rushing to slap your hands over your face. “Harumasa!” 

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop. We should probably hurry up and get you sorted out though. Yanagi and the others might be back soon.” He hesitates, seems to consider something else. Weighing his odds, if you had to guess, based on the thoughtful tug of his eyebrows. “Can I make one small request though?”

“That depends. What do you want?” 

His mouth curls into a vaguely mischievous smirk at that question. “Nothing too out there. I was just wondering if you’d let me take a picture of you, that’s all.”

You can’t quite hide your surprise. A picture? When you were like this? 

The note of suspicion that curls through your stomach is quickly doused and overshadowed, however, by the low, interested clench of your pussy. His cock was still sitting inside you, a hot, unmistakable presence even though he’d started to grow soft and pliant over the last few minutes. But that involuntary contraction of the muscle draws your attention to that fact now, making it somewhat easy to put two and two together. You could probably guess what he was angling for, but … 

That didn’t mean you were necessarily opposed to it. In fact, you were admittedly rather curious to see what his next move would be. 

“Alright. But I want to see it when you’re done.” 

Chuckling a good natured laugh, Harumasa leans over your shoulder to press another brief kiss to your pouty lips. “Deal.”

Giving your plushy waist one last squeeze, he drags his hands down to gently press on the small of your back, indicating he wanted you to bend forward. You comply, hands still braced along the wall, and you let out a tiny whimper at the loss when he finally eases himself back to slip out of you. The sensation of your hot, empty little cunt squeezing around nothing now, so thoroughly stretched and pounded, has you groaning all over again as your eyes roll towards the back of your head. It was astounding how good you actually felt given the very risky circumstances surrounding this encounter. 

You’re so wrapped up in that lingering pulse of endorphins, in fact, that you almost don’t even notice Harumasa backing up a step until you catch the telltale click of a camera shutter. Blinking out of your hazy stupor, you turn your head to glance back just as he comes up next to you again, holding his phone close to your face. 

The image that greets you comes dangerously close to making you decide that maybe you don’t really care that much about your career after all. 

It shows you bent forward, the plump meat of your ass in the air, with your panties and stockings tangled around your thighs. He was able to get a straight shot at your pussy from that angle and you can clearly see how well used your slit is. The lips puffy and flushed with arousal, the short hair that frames it coated in a fine, glistening sheen of fluids. 

And smack dab in the center of it all, dripping out of your stretched little hole, oozed the unmistakable, gossamer evidence of his semen. It’s just thick enough, creamy enough for you to see that Harumasa captured the exact moment when a shimmering thread was dribbling between your thighs to nearly touch the waiting gusset of your underwear directly underneath. 

For a painfully drawn out moment you forget how to breathe. 

“Holy shit.” 

“Didn’t do too shabby, did I? Looks like you really will have me leaking out of you for the rest of the day.” Sounding quite pleased with himself, Harumasa shifts to the side and brings his other hand down on your ass with a sudden swat! to make you yelp. “Alright, let’s get you presentable, shall we? You don’t think the room stinks of sex or anything, do you?” 

Cautiously straightening up in an attempt to contain some of the mess, you hesitate as if in thought while he helpfully grabs the waistband of your underwear and tugs them up over your hips. For a foolish moment you think he’s being gentlemanly but the way he deliberately pulls them nice and snug against your labia tells you he’s just doing his level best to make sure none of his spend is lost in the shuffle. You really were going to have to go the rest of the day with his cum gooping up your panties. Dammit. 

Well, if nothing else you couldn’t say that he didn’t give you exactly what you’d asked for. The absolute ass. 

“I’m not sure if I can really tell.” You finally admit, fumbling to grab your stockings so you can pull them up too. “Maybe we should light a candle or something, just to be safe?” 

“Good idea. I’ll see if I can find one. Oh, and one more thing?” 

Stamping down the urge to roll your eyes, you turn towards him with a huff. “What is it now?” 

Harumasa abruptly swoops down and kisses you in lieu of a proper response, making you squeak a startled sound. You’re not entirely sure why he’s doing this right now but you don’t hesitate to kiss him back either, pressing your lips up to meet his when he pulls you into the motion. It feels wonderful to have his mouth on you like that, but it lasts for only a regretfully short moment before he pulls back to send you a quick, cheeky wink. 

“We still on for tonight after work? I promised to make it up to you later, if you think you’re good for round two.” 

⭐

Crossposted: here

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Akiangel