shina

4 + 4

[itonashi]

itonashi © // don't repost, discredit, copy or plagiarized my works

• [ rules, mlist, carrd ]

ABOUT ME ✧

name : shina

status : i quit for good

FANDOMS ✧

blue lock, genshin impact, honkai impact 3rd, manhwa (etc), black clover, honkai star rail, my hero academia, mashle.

please do know this is my main fandom that im currently active with!

REQUEST ✧

[ closed for good. ]

[lumiambrose]

bigger than you ft. Bunny Inglesias

・❥・smut mdni the bunny you grew up with was so cute, tiny and oh so easy to tease. jokes on you, this 6'3 menace hasn't forgotten one bit

you remember when he was small.

god, that's the funniest part of all this. you remember when bunny iglesias came up to your shoulder. maybe your collarbone if he really stretched. little kid with scruffled hair that stuck up weird in the back and these huge red eyes that blinked at you like a baby deer every time you teased him about it.

"you're so tiny," you'd tell him, and you'd put your hand flat on top of his head to measure, making a big dramatic show of the height difference. "how are you even real? you're like a little toy person."

and he'd just look up at you with that soft, open expression he had back then. not angry. not embarrassed, really. just… watching you. those red irises tracking your face with a patience that felt strange on a kid his age.

"i'll be taller than you someday," he said once, very simply.

you laughed. you actually laughed.

"sure you will, bunny."

he didn't say anything after that. just kept looking at you with those big eyes, and something in them you couldn't name. you were too busy being seventeen and tall and certain of yourself to pay attention to the thing settling quietly behind his expression.

you stopped seeing him regularly when you went to college. life moved. you heard things secondhand, the way you do with people who drift to the edges of your world. heard he made a youth team. heard he made the team. saw his name on sports sites you weren't even looking for. bunny iglesias. 191 centimeters. FC Barcha. twelve goals mid-season.

twelve goals.

you thought about that flat hand on the top of his head and felt something strange move through your stomach.

you didn't go looking for trouble when you ran into him at a mutual friend's thing. seriously. you were just there for the free drinks and to catch up with someone you actually liked.

but then there he was.

and listen. you knew, objectively, from the articles, from the photos. you knew he'd gotten tall. but knowing it and standing in front of it are two categorically different experiences.

he was across the room when you spotted him. talking to someone, head tilted slightly, that same unhurried stillness he'd had as a kid, that same patience, except now it was wrapped around a frame that made the guy next to him look like he was standing in a different scale. lavender hair, a black cap with a rabbit's face on it, scars on his face that you hadn't seen before, vertical line down his right eye, a horizontal one crossing his cheek and nose.

the scars made something tighten in your chest, but you didn't look away.

he turned before you got the chance to decide what to do. like he already knew where you were standing.

those red eyes found you across the room and his mouth curved into that soft, gentle smile. quiet. easy. like nothing in the world.

"hey," he said, when he drifted over, because of course he came to you first, of course he did. his voice was lower than you remembered. "it's been a while."

"yeah," you said. "it really has."

you had to look up at him.

you didn't know what to do with that.

"you got tall," you said, because you're an idiot apparently and his smile didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes. something warm and slow and patient, like he'd been waiting for you to say exactly that.

"you told me i would," he said.

you don't actually remember who suggested leaving. maybe it was mutual. the details blurred together in the specific way that details do when something is already inevitable and your brain knows it before your mouth catches up. what you remember is the ride over, the easy quiet of it, the way he sat with his arm resting in the open window and didn't fill the silence with anything.

you remember thinking that the innocent spark was gone. not cruelly. just gone, grown over with something else, something quieter and more knowing and entirely more dangerous.

you remember the door closing behind you and him turning around in your apartment, taking in the space with that same unhurried attention he gave everything, and then looking at you.

"so," you started.

"you used to put your hand on my head," he said.

just like that. no preamble. and you felt heat crawl up your neck.

"bunny…"

"to show how much shorter i was." he stepped toward you, easy and slow, like he had all the time in the world, because he did, because he always did. "you thought it was funny."

"it was, like… playful. i wasn't trying to be mean."

"i know," he said. he was so close now and you were doing something embarrassing with your breathing. "i know you weren't."

he lifted his hand and set it flat on top of your head.

the warmth of his palm. the gentle, deliberate pressure. the way he held it there for just a second, easy and certain, while you stood under it and felt the bottom drop out of your stomach.

"look at that," he said softly.

and without warning he kissed you.

it wasn't rough. not at all. it was slow and careful and somehow that was so much worse, the way his mouth moved against yours with that total patience, one big hand cradling the back of your head like you were something he'd been thinking about putting down for a very long time.

you made a small sound against him and he swallowed it without urgency.

"bunny," you managed, when he pulled back just enough, "you're…"

"i know," he said quietly.

he walked you back until your knees hit the bed and when you sat down the height difference hit you all over again. he was still standing and you were looking up at him. something about that made heat pool directly between your legs, embarrassingly fast.

he took his cap off, set it aside. looked down at you with those soft red eyes.

"can i?" he asked.

"yeah," you breathed. "yeah, obviously. come here."

he was so careful undressing you that it almost made things worse. hands finding buttons, fabric, his fingers warm and unhurried, like he was studying each new thing. when he got your shirt off he looked at you for a moment without touching, just looking, with an expression you couldn't fully parse. not hunger exactly. something deeper than that. something that had been waiting.

"you're staring," you said.

"i know," he agreed, like it wasn't an accusation.

his hands moved to your hips and he laid you back, settled over you and then you understood it properly. the size of him. the way he blocked out the ceiling. he held himself up on one forearm. his free hand moved down between you, fingers pressing through the fabric of your underwear.

"oh," you breathed.

"yeah?" he said softly.

"yes, yeah, bunny, god…"

he pressed harder, slow circles, watching your face the whole time with that gentle focused attention, like you were interesting to him, like your reactions were something he was cataloguing. you squirmed under his hand and he let you, patient and unhurried while you got wet and desperate against his fingers.

"please," you finally said.

"please what?"

"you know what."

his mouth curved into that soft, quiet smile. "i want to hear you say it."

you exhaled. "please, bunny. please, i want you to…"

he moved your underwear aside and slid two fingers into you, steady and certain, your back arching off the bed.

"fuck," you choked out.

"there you go," he said, like you'd done something right.

he worked you open slowly, curling his fingers in a way that made your thighs shake, mouth dropping to your neck, your collarbone, your chest, pressing soft careful kisses while you fell apart on his hand. no urgency. complete patience. the most infuriating patience you'd ever experienced.

"bunny i swear to god if you don't…"

"if i don't what?" another curl of his fingers. you made a sound that embarrassed you.

"please," you said again. "please, i need you, please."

"as you wish," he said simply.

he took his time with that too. lining himself up, pressing forward slowly. you felt every inch of it, the stretch of him filling you open and the low broken sound that came out of your mouth you absolutely couldn't help. he was so big, not just tall, and the pressure of it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

"s'too… hah… a lot," you gasped out.

"you can take it," he said, low and quiet against your temple. not a command. a fact. stated with complete certainty. "you can take it."

he was right. god help you, he has to be right.

when he finally bottomed out he held still, letting you adjust, you could feel your pulse everywhere. your hands gripping his shoulders, his skin warm and solid under your fingers. he pressed a kiss to the side of your face, unhurried.

"okay?" he murmured.

"move," you managed. "please, move."

and so he did.

long slow rolls of his hips at first that pushed the air out of you each time, the pressure building steady and relentless. you found yourself arching up to meet him, chasing it. his breathing was controlled, measured, because of course it was, while yours was already ragged. the sounds of it, wet and rhythmic, filled the room and your face went hot with it, hotter still when he shifted his angle and found something that made your vision blur.

"there," you gasped out. "bunny, there, don't stop…"

"yeah," he said softly. "i've got you, princesa."

the pace built gradually, like everything he did, slow becoming something steadier, something that had weight to it, each thrust pushing you up the bed slightly, the headboard meeting the wall in a dull rhythm. you were talking, you realised distantly, broken syllables that weren't quite words, yesyesyes and please and his name spilling out of you with no real control. he watched your face the whole time. those red eyes, soft and focused and patient. the scars on his face catching the low light.

"you're close," he said.

"yes," you managed. "bunny, yes, please…"

he reached between you, thumb finding your clit, pressing in slow circles while he kept that steady rolling pace and you completely lost the thread of yourself. the orgasm built in your legs first, tightened through your core and when it broke it broke hard. your thighs clamping around him, your voice cracking on his name, your whole body shuddering through it while he fucked you through every second of it without stopping.

when you came down you were shaking. he kept moving, slower now, easier, his breath finally uneven against your shoulder.

"i'm gonna…" he started.

"yeah," you breathed. "yeah."

he pressed deep when he came, held there, a low quiet exhale against your neck. everything still.

the room smelled like sex and warm skin. the sheets were a disaster. your thighs were still trembling faintly if you paid attention.

he was on his back beside you, that same unhurried stillness, one arm behind his head, red eyes on the ceiling. you lay there trying to remember how breathing worked as a normal automatic function.

the silence sat between you, not uncomfortable. just full.

"bunny," you said eventually, staring up at nothing.

"mm."

"i missed you."

a pause. he turned his head to look at you, and his expression was that same soft, unreadable thing, the thing you hadn't been able to name back then and still couldn't quite name now.

"i missed you too," he said.

then he reached over and set his hand flat on the top of your head. slow. deliberate. warm.

held it there.

and you felt it go all the way through you, the quiet weight of it, the patience in it, something that had been waiting years to mean exactly this, that gentle pressure that said i told you so without a single word, that said look at that, that said now you know, and underneath it all, something that sounded almost like mine and almost like finally and entirely like him.

Taglist: @inu1gf @143-ilyuu @irethepotato @mikemsmm @bbladie @sky-casino @thetwinkims @elemayooooooo @angelhqlo1111

©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[lumiambrose]

bigger than you ft. Bunny Inglesias

・❥・smut mdni the bunny you grew up with was so cute, tiny and oh so easy to tease. jokes on you, this 6'3 menace hasn't forgotten one bit

you remember when he was small.

god, that's the funniest part of all this. you remember when bunny iglesias came up to your shoulder. maybe your collarbone if he really stretched. little kid with scruffled hair that stuck up weird in the back and these huge red eyes that blinked at you like a baby deer every time you teased him about it.

"you're so tiny," you'd tell him, and you'd put your hand flat on top of his head to measure, making a big dramatic show of the height difference. "how are you even real? you're like a little toy person."

and he'd just look up at you with that soft, open expression he had back then. not angry. not embarrassed, really. just… watching you. those red irises tracking your face with a patience that felt strange on a kid his age.

"i'll be taller than you someday," he said once, very simply.

you laughed. you actually laughed.

"sure you will, bunny."

he didn't say anything after that. just kept looking at you with those big eyes, and something in them you couldn't name. you were too busy being seventeen and tall and certain of yourself to pay attention to the thing settling quietly behind his expression.

you stopped seeing him regularly when you went to college. life moved. you heard things secondhand, the way you do with people who drift to the edges of your world. heard he made a youth team. heard he made the team. saw his name on sports sites you weren't even looking for. bunny iglesias. 191 centimeters. FC Barcha. twelve goals mid-season.

twelve goals.

you thought about that flat hand on the top of his head and felt something strange move through your stomach.

you didn't go looking for trouble when you ran into him at a mutual friend's thing. seriously. you were just there for the free drinks and to catch up with someone you actually liked.

but then there he was.

and listen. you knew, objectively, from the articles, from the photos. you knew he'd gotten tall. but knowing it and standing in front of it are two categorically different experiences.

he was across the room when you spotted him. talking to someone, head tilted slightly, that same unhurried stillness he'd had as a kid, that same patience, except now it was wrapped around a frame that made the guy next to him look like he was standing in a different scale. lavender hair, a black cap with a rabbit's face on it, scars on his face that you hadn't seen before, vertical line down his right eye, a horizontal one crossing his cheek and nose.

the scars made something tighten in your chest, but you didn't look away.

he turned before you got the chance to decide what to do. like he already knew where you were standing.

those red eyes found you across the room and his mouth curved into that soft, gentle smile. quiet. easy. like nothing in the world.

"hey," he said, when he drifted over, because of course he came to you first, of course he did. his voice was lower than you remembered. "it's been a while."

"yeah," you said. "it really has."

you had to look up at him.

you didn't know what to do with that.

"you got tall," you said, because you're an idiot apparently and his smile didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes. something warm and slow and patient, like he'd been waiting for you to say exactly that.

"you told me i would," he said.

you don't actually remember who suggested leaving. maybe it was mutual. the details blurred together in the specific way that details do when something is already inevitable and your brain knows it before your mouth catches up. what you remember is the ride over, the easy quiet of it, the way he sat with his arm resting in the open window and didn't fill the silence with anything.

you remember thinking that the innocent spark was gone. not cruelly. just gone, grown over with something else, something quieter and more knowing and entirely more dangerous.

you remember the door closing behind you and him turning around in your apartment, taking in the space with that same unhurried attention he gave everything, and then looking at you.

"so," you started.

"you used to put your hand on my head," he said.

just like that. no preamble. and you felt heat crawl up your neck.

"bunny…"

"to show how much shorter i was." he stepped toward you, easy and slow, like he had all the time in the world, because he did, because he always did. "you thought it was funny."

"it was, like… playful. i wasn't trying to be mean."

"i know," he said. he was so close now and you were doing something embarrassing with your breathing. "i know you weren't."

he lifted his hand and set it flat on top of your head.

the warmth of his palm. the gentle, deliberate pressure. the way he held it there for just a second, easy and certain, while you stood under it and felt the bottom drop out of your stomach.

"look at that," he said softly.

and without warning he kissed you.

it wasn't rough. not at all. it was slow and careful and somehow that was so much worse, the way his mouth moved against yours with that total patience, one big hand cradling the back of your head like you were something he'd been thinking about putting down for a very long time.

you made a small sound against him and he swallowed it without urgency.

"bunny," you managed, when he pulled back just enough, "you're…"

"i know," he said quietly.

he walked you back until your knees hit the bed and when you sat down the height difference hit you all over again. he was still standing and you were looking up at him. something about that made heat pool directly between your legs, embarrassingly fast.

he took his cap off, set it aside. looked down at you with those soft red eyes.

"can i?" he asked.

"yeah," you breathed. "yeah, obviously. come here."

he was so careful undressing you that it almost made things worse. hands finding buttons, fabric, his fingers warm and unhurried, like he was studying each new thing. when he got your shirt off he looked at you for a moment without touching, just looking, with an expression you couldn't fully parse. not hunger exactly. something deeper than that. something that had been waiting.

"you're staring," you said.

"i know," he agreed, like it wasn't an accusation.

his hands moved to your hips and he laid you back, settled over you and then you understood it properly. the size of him. the way he blocked out the ceiling. he held himself up on one forearm. his free hand moved down between you, fingers pressing through the fabric of your underwear.

"oh," you breathed.

"yeah?" he said softly.

"yes, yeah, bunny, god…"

he pressed harder, slow circles, watching your face the whole time with that gentle focused attention, like you were interesting to him, like your reactions were something he was cataloguing. you squirmed under his hand and he let you, patient and unhurried while you got wet and desperate against his fingers.

"please," you finally said.

"please what?"

"you know what."

his mouth curved into that soft, quiet smile. "i want to hear you say it."

you exhaled. "please, bunny. please, i want you to…"

he moved your underwear aside and slid two fingers into you, steady and certain, your back arching off the bed.

"fuck," you choked out.

"there you go," he said, like you'd done something right.

he worked you open slowly, curling his fingers in a way that made your thighs shake, mouth dropping to your neck, your collarbone, your chest, pressing soft careful kisses while you fell apart on his hand. no urgency. complete patience. the most infuriating patience you'd ever experienced.

"bunny i swear to god if you don't…"

"if i don't what?" another curl of his fingers. you made a sound that embarrassed you.

"please," you said again. "please, i need you, please."

"as you wish," he said simply.

he took his time with that too. lining himself up, pressing forward slowly. you felt every inch of it, the stretch of him filling you open and the low broken sound that came out of your mouth you absolutely couldn't help. he was so big, not just tall, and the pressure of it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

"s'too… hah… a lot," you gasped out.

"you can take it," he said, low and quiet against your temple. not a command. a fact. stated with complete certainty. "you can take it."

he was right. god help you, he has to be right.

when he finally bottomed out he held still, letting you adjust, you could feel your pulse everywhere. your hands gripping his shoulders, his skin warm and solid under your fingers. he pressed a kiss to the side of your face, unhurried.

"okay?" he murmured.

"move," you managed. "please, move."

and so he did.

long slow rolls of his hips at first that pushed the air out of you each time, the pressure building steady and relentless. you found yourself arching up to meet him, chasing it. his breathing was controlled, measured, because of course it was, while yours was already ragged. the sounds of it, wet and rhythmic, filled the room and your face went hot with it, hotter still when he shifted his angle and found something that made your vision blur.

"there," you gasped out. "bunny, there, don't stop…"

"yeah," he said softly. "i've got you, princesa."

the pace built gradually, like everything he did, slow becoming something steadier, something that had weight to it, each thrust pushing you up the bed slightly, the headboard meeting the wall in a dull rhythm. you were talking, you realised distantly, broken syllables that weren't quite words, yesyesyes and please and his name spilling out of you with no real control. he watched your face the whole time. those red eyes, soft and focused and patient. the scars on his face catching the low light.

"you're close," he said.

"yes," you managed. "bunny, yes, please…"

he reached between you, thumb finding your clit, pressing in slow circles while he kept that steady rolling pace and you completely lost the thread of yourself. the orgasm built in your legs first, tightened through your core and when it broke it broke hard. your thighs clamping around him, your voice cracking on his name, your whole body shuddering through it while he fucked you through every second of it without stopping.

when you came down you were shaking. he kept moving, slower now, easier, his breath finally uneven against your shoulder.

"i'm gonna…" he started.

"yeah," you breathed. "yeah."

he pressed deep when he came, held there, a low quiet exhale against your neck. everything still.

the room smelled like sex and warm skin. the sheets were a disaster. your thighs were still trembling faintly if you paid attention.

he was on his back beside you, that same unhurried stillness, one arm behind his head, red eyes on the ceiling. you lay there trying to remember how breathing worked as a normal automatic function.

the silence sat between you, not uncomfortable. just full.

"bunny," you said eventually, staring up at nothing.

"mm."

"i missed you."

a pause. he turned his head to look at you, and his expression was that same soft, unreadable thing, the thing you hadn't been able to name back then and still couldn't quite name now.

"i missed you too," he said.

then he reached over and set his hand flat on the top of your head. slow. deliberate. warm.

held it there.

and you felt it go all the way through you, the quiet weight of it, the patience in it, something that had been waiting years to mean exactly this, that gentle pressure that said i told you so without a single word, that said look at that, that said now you know, and underneath it all, something that sounded almost like mine and almost like finally and entirely like him.

Taglist: @inu1gf @143-ilyuu @irethepotato @mikemsmm @bbladie @sky-casino @thetwinkims @elemayooooooo @angelhqlo1111

©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[lumiambrose]

bigger than you ft. Bunny Inglesias

・❥・smut mdni the bunny you grew up with was so cute, tiny and oh so easy to tease. jokes on you, this 6'3 menace hasn't forgotten one bit

you remember when he was small.

god, that's the funniest part of all this. you remember when bunny iglesias came up to your shoulder. maybe your collarbone if he really stretched. little kid with scruffled hair that stuck up weird in the back and these huge red eyes that blinked at you like a baby deer every time you teased him about it.

"you're so tiny," you'd tell him, and you'd put your hand flat on top of his head to measure, making a big dramatic show of the height difference. "how are you even real? you're like a little toy person."

and he'd just look up at you with that soft, open expression he had back then. not angry. not embarrassed, really. just… watching you. those red irises tracking your face with a patience that felt strange on a kid his age.

"i'll be taller than you someday," he said once, very simply.

you laughed. you actually laughed.

"sure you will, bunny."

he didn't say anything after that. just kept looking at you with those big eyes, and something in them you couldn't name. you were too busy being seventeen and tall and certain of yourself to pay attention to the thing settling quietly behind his expression.

you stopped seeing him regularly when you went to college. life moved. you heard things secondhand, the way you do with people who drift to the edges of your world. heard he made a youth team. heard he made the team. saw his name on sports sites you weren't even looking for. bunny iglesias. 191 centimeters. FC Barcha. twelve goals mid-season.

twelve goals.

you thought about that flat hand on the top of his head and felt something strange move through your stomach.

you didn't go looking for trouble when you ran into him at a mutual friend's thing. seriously. you were just there for the free drinks and to catch up with someone you actually liked.

but then there he was.

and listen. you knew, objectively, from the articles, from the photos. you knew he'd gotten tall. but knowing it and standing in front of it are two categorically different experiences.

he was across the room when you spotted him. talking to someone, head tilted slightly, that same unhurried stillness he'd had as a kid, that same patience, except now it was wrapped around a frame that made the guy next to him look like he was standing in a different scale. lavender hair, a black cap with a rabbit's face on it, scars on his face that you hadn't seen before, vertical line down his right eye, a horizontal one crossing his cheek and nose.

the scars made something tighten in your chest, but you didn't look away.

he turned before you got the chance to decide what to do. like he already knew where you were standing.

those red eyes found you across the room and his mouth curved into that soft, gentle smile. quiet. easy. like nothing in the world.

"hey," he said, when he drifted over, because of course he came to you first, of course he did. his voice was lower than you remembered. "it's been a while."

"yeah," you said. "it really has."

you had to look up at him.

you didn't know what to do with that.

"you got tall," you said, because you're an idiot apparently and his smile didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes. something warm and slow and patient, like he'd been waiting for you to say exactly that.

"you told me i would," he said.

you don't actually remember who suggested leaving. maybe it was mutual. the details blurred together in the specific way that details do when something is already inevitable and your brain knows it before your mouth catches up. what you remember is the ride over, the easy quiet of it, the way he sat with his arm resting in the open window and didn't fill the silence with anything.

you remember thinking that the innocent spark was gone. not cruelly. just gone, grown over with something else, something quieter and more knowing and entirely more dangerous.

you remember the door closing behind you and him turning around in your apartment, taking in the space with that same unhurried attention he gave everything, and then looking at you.

"so," you started.

"you used to put your hand on my head," he said.

just like that. no preamble. and you felt heat crawl up your neck.

"bunny…"

"to show how much shorter i was." he stepped toward you, easy and slow, like he had all the time in the world, because he did, because he always did. "you thought it was funny."

"it was, like… playful. i wasn't trying to be mean."

"i know," he said. he was so close now and you were doing something embarrassing with your breathing. "i know you weren't."

he lifted his hand and set it flat on top of your head.

the warmth of his palm. the gentle, deliberate pressure. the way he held it there for just a second, easy and certain, while you stood under it and felt the bottom drop out of your stomach.

"look at that," he said softly.

and without warning he kissed you.

it wasn't rough. not at all. it was slow and careful and somehow that was so much worse, the way his mouth moved against yours with that total patience, one big hand cradling the back of your head like you were something he'd been thinking about putting down for a very long time.

you made a small sound against him and he swallowed it without urgency.

"bunny," you managed, when he pulled back just enough, "you're…"

"i know," he said quietly.

he walked you back until your knees hit the bed and when you sat down the height difference hit you all over again. he was still standing and you were looking up at him. something about that made heat pool directly between your legs, embarrassingly fast.

he took his cap off, set it aside. looked down at you with those soft red eyes.

"can i?" he asked.

"yeah," you breathed. "yeah, obviously. come here."

he was so careful undressing you that it almost made things worse. hands finding buttons, fabric, his fingers warm and unhurried, like he was studying each new thing. when he got your shirt off he looked at you for a moment without touching, just looking, with an expression you couldn't fully parse. not hunger exactly. something deeper than that. something that had been waiting.

"you're staring," you said.

"i know," he agreed, like it wasn't an accusation.

his hands moved to your hips and he laid you back, settled over you and then you understood it properly. the size of him. the way he blocked out the ceiling. he held himself up on one forearm. his free hand moved down between you, fingers pressing through the fabric of your underwear.

"oh," you breathed.

"yeah?" he said softly.

"yes, yeah, bunny, god…"

he pressed harder, slow circles, watching your face the whole time with that gentle focused attention, like you were interesting to him, like your reactions were something he was cataloguing. you squirmed under his hand and he let you, patient and unhurried while you got wet and desperate against his fingers.

"please," you finally said.

"please what?"

"you know what."

his mouth curved into that soft, quiet smile. "i want to hear you say it."

you exhaled. "please, bunny. please, i want you to…"

he moved your underwear aside and slid two fingers into you, steady and certain, your back arching off the bed.

"fuck," you choked out.

"there you go," he said, like you'd done something right.

he worked you open slowly, curling his fingers in a way that made your thighs shake, mouth dropping to your neck, your collarbone, your chest, pressing soft careful kisses while you fell apart on his hand. no urgency. complete patience. the most infuriating patience you'd ever experienced.

"bunny i swear to god if you don't…"

"if i don't what?" another curl of his fingers. you made a sound that embarrassed you.

"please," you said again. "please, i need you, please."

"as you wish," he said simply.

he took his time with that too. lining himself up, pressing forward slowly. you felt every inch of it, the stretch of him filling you open and the low broken sound that came out of your mouth you absolutely couldn't help. he was so big, not just tall, and the pressure of it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

"s'too… hah… a lot," you gasped out.

"you can take it," he said, low and quiet against your temple. not a command. a fact. stated with complete certainty. "you can take it."

he was right. god help you, he has to be right.

when he finally bottomed out he held still, letting you adjust, you could feel your pulse everywhere. your hands gripping his shoulders, his skin warm and solid under your fingers. he pressed a kiss to the side of your face, unhurried.

"okay?" he murmured.

"move," you managed. "please, move."

and so he did.

long slow rolls of his hips at first that pushed the air out of you each time, the pressure building steady and relentless. you found yourself arching up to meet him, chasing it. his breathing was controlled, measured, because of course it was, while yours was already ragged. the sounds of it, wet and rhythmic, filled the room and your face went hot with it, hotter still when he shifted his angle and found something that made your vision blur.

"there," you gasped out. "bunny, there, don't stop…"

"yeah," he said softly. "i've got you, princesa."

the pace built gradually, like everything he did, slow becoming something steadier, something that had weight to it, each thrust pushing you up the bed slightly, the headboard meeting the wall in a dull rhythm. you were talking, you realised distantly, broken syllables that weren't quite words, yesyesyes and please and his name spilling out of you with no real control. he watched your face the whole time. those red eyes, soft and focused and patient. the scars on his face catching the low light.

"you're close," he said.

"yes," you managed. "bunny, yes, please…"

he reached between you, thumb finding your clit, pressing in slow circles while he kept that steady rolling pace and you completely lost the thread of yourself. the orgasm built in your legs first, tightened through your core and when it broke it broke hard. your thighs clamping around him, your voice cracking on his name, your whole body shuddering through it while he fucked you through every second of it without stopping.

when you came down you were shaking. he kept moving, slower now, easier, his breath finally uneven against your shoulder.

"i'm gonna…" he started.

"yeah," you breathed. "yeah."

he pressed deep when he came, held there, a low quiet exhale against your neck. everything still.

the room smelled like sex and warm skin. the sheets were a disaster. your thighs were still trembling faintly if you paid attention.

he was on his back beside you, that same unhurried stillness, one arm behind his head, red eyes on the ceiling. you lay there trying to remember how breathing worked as a normal automatic function.

the silence sat between you, not uncomfortable. just full.

"bunny," you said eventually, staring up at nothing.

"mm."

"i missed you."

a pause. he turned his head to look at you, and his expression was that same soft, unreadable thing, the thing you hadn't been able to name back then and still couldn't quite name now.

"i missed you too," he said.

then he reached over and set his hand flat on the top of your head. slow. deliberate. warm.

held it there.

and you felt it go all the way through you, the quiet weight of it, the patience in it, something that had been waiting years to mean exactly this, that gentle pressure that said i told you so without a single word, that said look at that, that said now you know, and underneath it all, something that sounded almost like mine and almost like finally and entirely like him.

Taglist: @inu1gf @143-ilyuu @irethepotato @mikemsmm @bbladie @sky-casino @thetwinkims @elemayooooooo @angelhqlo1111

©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[violettelueur]

SEEMS LIKE LOVE ISN'T IMPOSSIBLE FOR ALL.

SYNOPSIS. UH OH! It seems like the world has found out that ng11 Itoshi Sae is dating someone. Not only was he dating, but he was dating you! A world-class idol beloved by fans. Some disagree with this pairing, while some are just confused. But, it seems like love isn't impossible for all, even for the cold, blunt and frankly rude midfeilder.

TAGS. ITOSHI SAE X IDOL!(F)READER, oneshot, just full of fluff and happiness, written in both reader's and sae's POV in some sections, use of y.n., sae might be ooc, spelling mistakes and grammar issues.

WC. 2.9k

FC FOR MEDIA POSTS. Kim Jennie from BLACKPINK

AUTHOR'S NOTES. hello...bonjour....hola.....it's been a while hehe........anyways, since the world cup is literally tomorrow and i got back into BLUE LOCK, i though this would be the appriooate time for me to post something. but in all serious, if you guys want, i will post something on why i have been on a hiatus (atp can i even call it that?) for YEARS. thank you so much for everyone that has been waiting, i love you all and i hope this piece isn't a disappointment.

People were surprised (actually, they were more horrified) when it was revealed on the gossip tabloids that Itoshi Sae was dating someone, let alone dating one of the most famous idols, you.

The moment went viral on Twitter, with tweets ranging from pure denial because of how different both of you were in personality to your careers to supportive ones where people wished you happiness, to the obviously malicious tweets that were wishing on the downfall of the relationship because it was 'distracting you both from your careers'.

However, as time went by and your relationship gradually showed itself through small moments, the world learned to accept that this was the one that would last.

This was how the world learned that you and Sae were the real deal.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Through the small moments from your vlogs.

As an idol, it was important for you and your brand to keep your fans updated once in a while. It didn't have to be constantly to the point where it was every day, but enough to make sure your fans didn't think you were dead (oops….am I talking about myself here hehehe).

Vlogs were your way to stay connected to your fans. However, you are not going to deny that this was your way of living the 'YouTuber' life you dreamed of as a kid when you waited for your favourite vlogger to post, but it was amazing content for your fans.

The videos mainly contained 'behind the scenes' moments when you were preparing for your solo/group album and activities, or you were sightseeing abroad when you were on tour, where your bandmates, producers and staff members would commonly appear on camera. However, if fans were to start watching the vlogs from oldest to latest, it was quite obvious that Mr ‘The Prodigy’ Itoshi Sae was in your life a lot longer than people expected.

˖°📷༘ video 2: Madrid Vlog

"It's really sunny today," you mentioned softly, as you recorded the streets of Madrid. It was around mid-morning, when residents had most likely finished their breakfast and were now off to work. Yet, you were here admiring how beautiful the architecture was in the sun, especially since the houses were more colourful than in Japan, and with the greenery, Madrid was beautiful in the morning.

Suddenly, the camera panned around back to you, revealing your smiling face for a second before the video transitioned to the next clip, where you were now situated at a restaurant. In this clip, you were seen chatting with someone (where fans thought it was your manager at the time) before you both surprisingly ordered in decent Spanish, with the next clip presenting the food when it had arrived, with a suspicious hand on the other side of the table with two white and black bracelets, grabbing their glass of water.

Later on in the video, there was a segment that fans were punching themselves for not noticing that you and Sae were a thing.

"Can you hold the camera, please?"

You were giggling, while fans heard a sigh behind the camera, but it seemed like your manager…? accepted your request, as you handed the camera to them before asking if you were far enough to show the top half of your outfit. It seemed like you had trained your manager well since they were perfectly handling the shots as you were explaining your OOTD before providing a cinematic view of you with the scenic background.

"You look pretty." The voice was definitely trying to be quiet, but the camera managed to catch it. However, before fans could even analyse the scene any further, the video presented the next clip at La Tienda De Los Deseos, where you could be seen tying your wish within the array of papers surrounding the red shop door, before the next clip showed you ringing the bell.

You never showed your wish.

@.user1. now she knew damn well that we don't know anything about football because this was too obvious as hell

@.user2. I wonder what she wished for because I know FOR SURE it's a ring from her "manager"

@.user3. she was in madrid, but there wasn't a concert or anything scheduled at that time SO SHE WENT TO GO SEE HIM

@.user4. we should have realised when she was speaking in spanish, HOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN DATING??????

@.user5. her and his pr team must have been sweating for years and somehow they got away with this

˖°📷༘ video 7: Japan Vlog

At the start of the video, it was just a regular vlog where you were showing your day-to-day activities since it was your day off, but what really caught the fans' eyes was the section where you were going through the gifts from your sponsors. Luxury fashion houses, high-end jewellery companies and sports brands you were the ambassadors for, and people loved these vlogs the most, yet they were in for a surprise.

The next clip showed you pushing a rather large parcel box into frame. However, what surprised the fans was that there were no logos or any fancy packaging when it came to the mailbox. It was just a regular, large brown mail box.

"This was sent to me by my friend," you explained while carefully using a box cutter through the tape. "They sent me a few things from Spain and other places they travelled," you continued, "I wanted a few snacks too, but they kept lecturing me on how unhealthy they were."

Tilting the box slightly towards the camera, there was an array of trinkets, other enclosed parcels and the supposed 'unhealthy snacks' that this friend said they weren't going to get. Through the small camera screen, you noticed a small envelope on top of the gifts and placed the parcel back down.

"Aww, they wrote a letter," you open the envelope to find a small postcard of Madrid before taking a quick glance at the content. A few seconds have passed before you smile softly as you address the anticipating audience, "yeah, I can't show this on camera, hehe".

After that, the rest of the video only showed some of the content you have received from this well-versed travelling friend of yours.

@.user1. is that….a Re Al jersey in that box?

@.user2. SHOW US THE LETTER MANNNNNNNNNN

@.user3. There are more snacks in there than I can count, omg

@.user4. omg they got her Ruffles in the Jamon flavour, they are my childhood

@.user5. they also got her principe cookies, and they said they weren't going to get her snacks lol

@.user6. wow sae really does love her man, he got her everythinggggg

˖°📷༘ video 15: Japan + Football Vlog

This was your most anticipated vlog yet, and that was because it was after the news broke out that you and Mr Sae Itoshi were dating. Even though people have already seen snippets of your relationship through very small moments from your previous vlogs, this is where they believed you were fully exposing your open secret.

And they assumed correctly.

"Today is Sae's U20 Debut." The camera was panning across the whole Blue Lock Stadium, presenting the wave of excited fans disguised in red, white and blue waves before facing the camera towards you, revealing yourself wearing the U20 Japan jersey.

"He told me I didn't need to come, but I couldn't miss his national debut." You smiled, before turning the camera again when the display screen showed his portrait, congratulating him on his debut before presenting his teammates. "I know he's going to do well, but I can't help but feel nervous," you mentioned before giggling at your comment, "he would say I'm worrying for nothing."

After that clip, the video continued with the camera remaining on your face since you knew filming the match could have consequences. However, the one time you did flip the camera was to show the aftermath of Sae's goal, with the display screen relaying his fantastic goal, but also the crowd chanting his name like crazy.

"Wow, even people don't chant my name like that in concerts, " you joked before placing the camera back in its original position, while laughing at your own joke.

What fans really loved throughout this whole vlog was how excited you were and cheering him on, while looking fashionable in how you had styled your outfit with the jersey, even though it was the dead of winter.

@.user1. wowowow you can tell she really loves him

@.user2. you know in the highlights of this match, you can see sae totally trying to find her in the crowd

@.user3. OMG FINALLY OUT IN THE OPEN???? after all those secretive vlogs, it was worth it

@.user4. WAIT GUYS SHE HAS A MINI SAE PLUSH ON HER BAG FROM THE MERCH SHOP AT THE STADUIMMM HOW CUTEEEE

⊹ ࣪ ˖ His Instagram Posts

The fact that Sae had an Instagram was a miracle in itself. Yet, that doesn't change the fact that it seemed like a mandatory thing for football players to have, so that was his limit when it came to social media.

However, ever since your relationship had become public, his fans couldn't help but notice him starting to post a bit more often (he would post like every 3 months). At first, it was just reposting posts from his football club's official account on his story. Then, it slowly transitioned onto his own pictures with a certain someone's songs as their audio.

What made it more evident that your presence has affected his Instagram was when he posted his first dump, and you were included…maybe included too many times.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ You both somehow make time for each other, even with your busy schedules.

It's no surprise that both of you are busy. With Sae being busy with his new endeavours with the Japanese football association regarding Blue Lock, and you were busy with sudden multiple fashion shows you were invited to, with the addition of the production of your new album. Yet, somehow, through your small social media posts, fan tweets and media coverages, fans start seeing you and Sae together more and more.

January 16th

Last year, it was your group's latest tour, and you had finally landed in Japan during your Asia stop. You recall telling Sae that he didn't need to come since he already went to the Spain dates, yet in true Sae fashion, he didn't listen and found himself backstage with you, a few minutes before the show started.

"You didn't need to come," you murmured, as you fixed your makeup, preparing for the stage that was starting in 20 minutes. Taking a peek through the mirror's reflection, you couldn't help but notice how your boyfriend was staring back at you with an annoyed expression.

"Who said I was going to listen?" he says, before casually placing a large bouquet of flowers on one of the tables. "I had some time to spare."

Lying ass, the concert was over two hours, and he knew it. However, you couldn't really change his mind; he was already here with his 'spare time', and it's not like you had already booked off the VIP balcony for him with your family. Yeah, you totally weren't ecstatic that he was here today.

Sighing at his response, you quickly turned towards him before looping your arms around his waist. "Thank you for the flowers," you smiled, placing a quick kiss upon his cheek before pulling yourself closer towards him.

"What's wrong with you?" his voice flat, but with a hint of concern.

"What?" you say, giggling into his chest. "Am I not allowed to be nervous before my performance?"

"Are you stupid?" Sae said seriously, causing you to burst out laughing.

Your staff and bandmates around you were a hundred per cent confused about the whole interaction. How can a boyfriend ask something so rude of his girlfriend, nonetheless, the same girlfriend who was going to perform in front of 55,000 people for the next three nights? Yet, your reaction was the most confusing to them. How can you even laugh at the question? However, you knew that this was Sae's way of asking, 'Why are you nervous when you have performed the same set for the past six months?'

That was how your Sae was.

May 13th

The Bernabeu was packed today. But that was a stupid statement. When was it never packed when it came to match day, especially with Re Al.

You were currently situated at the VIP box, where all the players' friends and family usually reside, standing against the balcony as the whistle blew, concluding the match with Re Al winning 4-1, with Sae scoring one and assisting two. Watching the aftermath of the match, you notice Sae resting his hands on his hips, taking a breather, before looking up towards the crowd, scanning closely towards the section you were in.

Making your presence known, you quickly gave a big wave towards the field, hoping to quickly notify him where you were, which he quickly caught. Not caring about the crowd's reaction, Sae quickly gave you a wave back before making his way towards the exit. Yet it seemed like his teammates were not going to let what he did slide, as they quickly gathered around him, wondering who he was waving to and why did it looked like he smiled for a second….wait, he smiled?

Luckily for him, none of the cameras for the league's streaming service or fan cameras managed to catch his 'smile', but you knew from your heart that he definitely smiled, even after he told you there was no need to come to today's match.

But who were you to listen, just like he mentioned at your concert?

⊹ ࣪ ˖ He was your no. 1 fan and isn't afraid to show it…..quietly, of course.

After the U20s’ ruffle with Oliver for this ex-girlfriend's 'overnight' bag, all five decided to further explore the midfielder's bag.

"Don't you think you've explored enough?" Oliver questioned, watching Sendo rummaging through Sae's bag. Yet, all fell on deaf ears when they found Sae's phone.

There was nothing wrong with it; it was just a regular smartphone with a normal black case. What made it surprising was his background. It was a photo of a girl, at what seemed to be a beach in Spain, in a white summer dress, crouching down collecting seashells, but her face wasn't visible.

"Do you think that's his girlfriend?" Teppei asked, peering over Sendo's shoulder, examining the photo. However, it seemed like the Ace of the U20s didn't want to believe it. "THERE IS NO WAY IN HELL THAT'S HIS GIRLFRIEND!" his voice loud, before going back to ransacking Sae's sports bag to search for some dirt.

Next, it was a black metal tumbler.

"Now that looks like an expensive tumbler," Kazuma stated. He was correct. It was an expensive one, and that was because it was a collaboration between you and the famous drinkware company. Sendo and Oliver recognised it, but why did the Itoshi Sae have it? Wasn't this bottle supposed to be coming out next month? And why did he choose this design? And why did he have the bottle again, he wasn't a sponser of this company?

"Ohhh, so the lil genius gets stuff early…." Oliver snatched the bottle from Sendo's grasp, examining the bottle's floral design while Sendo noticed he had a smaller version that came with the collection.

"So he is a fan of hers!" Sendo delightfully grinned, finally finding the dirt he was looking for. "Let's see if there is anything else I can embarrass him with."

As he was going through Sae's bag, Teppei couldn't help but notice that there was something hanging on the other side of the bag. An acrylic card holder was peeking through one of the bag's outside pockets, but what caught the U20s players' eyes was the photocard peeking back at them through the same pocket. Sliding the acyclic card holder out, the photocard revealed to be you. Yet, it wasn't just a random photocard you could get from your new solo album. It was one of the rarest ones you can get from a pop-up that happened a few months ago.

"HOW CAN HE GET THIS PHOTOCARD AND NOT ME?" Sendo screamed, gripping the acrylic by the corners with tears filling the corners of his eyes. "I bought so much stuff from that pop-up, and I only got the common ones," he continued to rant before looking around the room, "I'm stealing this"

"Unfortunately, you are not"

Jumping from the sudden interruption of their mission, all five boys turned around to find Sae, annoyingly looking at them, touching his stuff. Teppei and Miroku, with his phone in hand with your picture still displayed brightly, Oliver still having his hands on his tumbler, where he would be annoyed if he saw a single scratch on it and Sendo with his photocard, while Kazuma was comforting the Ace from his crying fit.

"Get your nasty hands off my girlfriend's picture," Sae commanded before snatching back the photocard and hooking it back on his bag.

"WHAT GIRLFRIEND YOU DELUSIONAL PRINCE"

Let's just say Sendo wasn't happy with the dating news that was released a few days later.

© violettelueur 2026 - all rights are reserved to violettelueur. Do not repost, copy, change/modify, plagiarise, translate or screenshot my work : this will also include other social media/writing platforms like AO3, Wattpad, TikTok and many more.

[doveras]

ೀ Normalcy

Qifrey x Reader x Olruggio

A day where you have no commissions arrives, what’s the rest of the atelier up to?

CONTENTS: waking up, brushing tetia’s hair, bonding with richeh, cooking, stressed olly, & domestic qifrey

WC: 1.8k

Your senses slowly return to you as rays of sunlight penetrate your eyes. You stretch out your limbs, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. However, as if sensing the movement, Olly clings closer to you, tucking his head onto your shoulder.

He murmurs, “What time is it?”

“Too early for you. Go back to sleep.” You nudge him to try to get him to loosen up his grip but he only hums in response.

He lets out an annoyed whine, “Stop movin’.”

You try to wiggle away yet your energy drains very quickly — you end up not making any progress. “You know, for someone who rarely exercises your grip is pretty strong…” You comment, finally accepting your fate.

“...Insulting me isn’t doing you any favors.”

“Worth a shot.” You don’t get out of bed until you hear his breathing slow down.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You’re lounging in the living room when you’re greeted with Tetia rounding the corner, flinging around a hairbrush.

“Master! Master!” She calls out. “Can you help me?” The girl points at her tangled hair.

You motion for her to come over, taking the brush from her hand as she settles in front of you. “What happened? Don’t you usually get Richeh to help you?”

Tetia shakes her hair violently. “Richeh wasn’t being much help, she kept tugging at my hair.”

You comb your hands through her hair, feeling out any particularly tangled knots. “Are you alright?”

She lets a small pout form on her face. “I’ll be fine but it still hurts!”

“Best to not be too mad at her, alright? It was probably a mistake.” You remind softly, brushing out the ends of her hair.

“No promises!” The girl says playfully.

You decide to switch up the topic. “Speaking of the others, how’s Coco doing? Qifrey said the few of you ran into danger a while ago at Kahln.”

Tetia lowers her head at the mention of such. She fidgets with her hands in her lap. “She’s doing good.”

You gently tilt her head upwards to avoid any unnecessary tension while brushing it. “Judging from your reaction, something’s still troubling you.”

She whispers, “I… I said some things I regret to her… I apologized yet I still feel guilty about it.” The girl adds on, “She was so nice about it too…”

You see Tetia grip at her gown in frustration.

You pass the brush through the last strands of her hair, placing it on the arm of the sofa, resting a hand on top of her head.

“It’s normal to feel that way, guilt has a weird way of doing that.” She angles her head back at you. “It’s best to not let it linger in your consciousness, otherwise you’ll never be able to move on.”

Tetia leans over, tucking her knees into her chest. “I don’t know what to do… everytime I think about it or even her, I just feel more ashamed of myself.”

“Coco loves magic, right?” You say. She nods hesitantly in response. “How about you make a spell for her?”

The girl shrivels out of her ball, leaning back against your legs. “Making your own spells is your dream, no? Why not start with Coco?”

Her eyes widen in revelation. “That could work,” she mumbles.

You lift up two tuffs of hair, mimicking her pigtails. “Now that you have your plans for today, let’s get your hair finished up.”

Tetia gets up, abruptly, scurrying out of the room. “I’ll get some hair ties from my room, be right back!” She yells out. You let out a chuckle at her antics.

Qifrey conveniently makes his way into the living room as she leaves, holding a mug that he sets down on the coffee table.

“How long have you been there?” You ask.

“Long enough.”

He lifts your chin up with an index finger and leans over to kiss you. When he pulls away, he rests a hand on your knee to steady himself.

“Any plans for today?” He questions.

“Sleeping, eating, that’s about it.”

“How productive.”

“I know.”

“Well then, want to help me clean?”

You shrug, “Sure.”

Tetia barges back into the room before he can get another word in.

“Master! I got the hair ties-“ she stares at the two of you in suspicion for a good while.

“Why are you looking at us like that,” Qifrey asks, “we didn’t even do anything?“

“Shoo!” Tetia nudges Qifrey away from you and gives you the hair ties. You tie up her pigtails as Qifrey stands to the side awestruck. The girl runs off with a “thank you.”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Following a mini clean up session and a hearty lunch, Qifrey leaves you to your own business as he holds a lesson for the girls.

You end up taking a walk around the atelier. First, you stop by the garden to see if any herbs or vegetables are ready for harvesting. Finding no ripe goodies, you decide to fly around the area to see if any wild plants are fit for dinner.

As you pass by a patch of kettlegourds, a familiar winged companion of yours drifts near your presence. Deactivating your sylph shoes, you allow Voy to perch on your arm. In its break holds a couple envelopes from various senders.

You pluck them out of Voy’s mouth, tucking them into a small bag. It flies off after a few pets.

Continuing your ingredient search, you stumble upon rotten, half eaten dewberries — which you could technically eat if you used a repetition seal to restore them. You decide not to bother with picking them, rather opting to settle for something more savory.

An hour of pouncing and scavenging around the plains is subsequently followed by a trip to town. You were a bit disappointed with the outcome. Was it supposed to be a walk? Well, yes, but some free groceries would’ve been nice too. You buy carapace yams and halfmoon legumes then head home.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The living room is empty when you return — they must’ve retreated to their rooms for independent studying.

You go through the usual procedure of cooking the yams; charring them over a fire and scooping out the insides. You mash up and blend them up to make a starchy soup. After you transfer the soup base into a pot, you grate a block of cheese on the side and chop up bacon for the toppings.

As soon as the smell of bacon fills the house, Richeh enters the kitchen. She tries to take a peek into the pot, though fails due to it being out of reach.

She tugs at your sleeve. “What are you making?”

“Creamy carapace yam soup.”

Richeh lets out a peeved sigh, “I’m tired of soup.”

“Yes, but we won’t have to eat this one for a whole week.” You toss the sizzling bacon. “Plus, you can however much meat you want so it doesn’t taste like or feel like soup.”

Her eyes sparkle at the comment, “Really!? You mean it?”

You nod in response. She pumps her arms in the air in victory, “I’ll eat all the soup then!”

A chuckle escapes your mouth at her enthusiasm. Richeh takes a seat at the table, kicking her feet in impatience. Occasionally, you glance at her, noticing her playing with something with her hands. You choose not to comment on it.

Sometime between preparing the legumes and sauteing them, Olly hobbles his way to the kitchen. His hair is disheveled in a way that tells you he most definitely slept all day.

He lets out a garbled groan, “What time is it?”

“Time for you to eat supper,” you remark.

His movements freeze in shock. “Are you serious…?”

“Yes?”

Olruggio starts gripping his head in panic. “I was supposed to wake up at lunch and finish my contraption…! I have no time, my deadline is tomorrow.”

He silently shrieks on the way back to his room. You huff out an exasperated sigh.

Soon afterwards, Richeh makes up her mind and makes her way over to your side. You lower the flame and turn your attention to her.

She extends her hand out to you, dropping an object into your palm. It's smooth and cool to the touch, dawning a light blue color. On closer inspection, it’s a mini figurine.

“I made one of Coco.” She looks away, a bit bashful. “Now everybody has one.”

Earlier on, Richeh had started experimenting with sculpting with her crystal ribbons. She made it her goal to make sculptures of people within the atelier, gifting you them after she’s finished — currently, they reside on a shelf in your room. You suggested moving them to the living room so everyone could appreciate their cute complexions, but she strongly refuted that idea.

“It’s beautiful,” you compliment. “I’ll put it with the others, thank you Richeh.”

Her cheeks warm up at the praise. “It’s nothing,” she says. “I’m… going to go back to my room. Let me know when dinner’s ready.”

“Of course.” You watch as she darts off.

Turning up the heat once more, adding a sliver of butter, stirring it in until it fully melts. Following that you add a heapful of garlic, cooking it until fragrant. Lastly, you season with salt and pepper among other species and top it all off with a squeeze of lemon.

Halfway through transferring the greens onto a plate, a large bang rings in your ears, with Qifrey partially crashing into the kitchen, looking equally as tousled as Olly was. You nearly lose your grip on the pan because of it.

“I overslept! I need to make dinner-” he pauses mid sentence at your presence. “Oh.”

You tease, “You didn’t smell anything?”

“Guess not,” he says, ruffling the back of his head in embarrassment. “Do you need any help?”

“No. Now go before you raise your blood pressure anymore.” You chase him away from the stove but he still hovers nearby.

“Are you sure? I feel bad making you do everything.”

“You make most, if not all, our meals, Qi.”

“Still,” he responds, stubbornly.

“Here,” you place the figure into his hand. “If you want to do something, put this in my room and tell the girls dinner’s ready.”

Qifrey pinches the object between his thumb and index finger, raising it towards the overhead light, getting a better look at it. “Richeh made another one?”

“Yeah. Isn’t it cute?”

“Just like the others.” He rotates the crystal in the palm of his hand absentmindedly, yet you can still tell his attention is focused on you.

You let him send a few glances your way then ultimately drive him away with kicks to his foot. “Okay, now stop stalling and go.”

“Ow, okay okay!” He exclaims, finally scampering away.

By the time everyone’s gathered at the table, everything is plated and ready to be eaten — along with a reserved portion for Olly, of course.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

A/N: ahhhh i feel like i’ve been lowkey inactive on tumblr but thank yall sm for 112 followers 🥹🫶🫶 didn’t really expect this much attention when starting this blog so thank you from the bottom of my heart!!

[onyxon2dd]

Pecks and whispers…

shugen x reader

tw: none just short fluff | w/c: 1.7k | an: First time ever writing for Shugen, so forgive my obvious awkwardness… (╥‸╥) I just need to step into my comfort zone! | for anon <3

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

It is no secret that the second highest ranked asaemon is… emotional.

Extremely emotional. Though his feelings never interfere with his performance, the strongly feeling man can still slice heads from criminals, or even distant innocent ties.

Without hesitation.

Yet here he is now.

Hidden behind a large stone some distance from the asaemon compound’s training yard. His head rests in your lap, arms wrapped tightly around your waist as quiet sniffs are muffled by the fabric of your clothing and the soft hum of nature. Birds chirp, leaves shift in the breeze.

“Shugen…” you speak first, breaking the silence. One hand plays gently with his hair while the other rubs slow circles on his back. A small smile tugs at your lips. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I don’t question your ability,” he mutters, arms tightening around you for a brief moment.

“You’re shaking, and you’re soaking my robes. People might get the wrong impression if they see us like this, and with that area soaked.”

Your words seem to land on him. His body freezes as he finally lifts his head, tilting it to meet your gentle, smiling gaze.

His onyx eyes glisten like the night ocean reflecting moonlight, strands of raven hair cling to tear streaked cheeks. Sunlight highlights the sharp angles of his face, as if he is a living petal unfolding in beauty.

If anyone sees him like this…

“To let you go without being there… it’s difficult,” he admits.

The man pauses, brows twitching as if racing through countless thoughts. For a rare moment in his life, he isn’t an executioner. He is simply human. Fear, care, love. They all collide at once in this quiet instant.

“Shugen…”

“Many comrades have lost their lives at Shinsenkyō,” he continues, voice low but steady. “What I feel is not doubt, nor is it to diminish your hard work. It is… my selfishness. My selfishness in wanting to keep you away from all danger.”

His words linger in the air like stars suspended over a restless life.

Trees and bushes seem to breathe with the wind, a soft, soothing sigh threading through the distant clashing of swords and the muted groans of ambition from the training yard.

Shifting on your folded legs, your hands slide along his sides to the back of his arms, coaxing him to sit up. Shugen doesn’t resist, his eyes refuse to leave your face. Fighting back the urge in flutter as you cup his cheeks and gently pull him closer. Thumps wipe away his tears.

“I can be very selfish,” you murmur, letting your gaze flicker down to his lips before returning to his dark eyes, “even when I pour myself entirely into my sword.”

“Yes but—“

“Never would I allow myself to lose,” you continue, voice firm yet soft, “not through foolishness, not through misfortune. And I expect you to understand that better than anyone else because…”

Shugen’s eyes widen in realization. His adam’s apple bobs in a gulp as his lips part to speak.

“I will come back, no matter the cost. Waiting home… is someone far more worthy than anything else in this world.”

The words hang heavy, the same words he mutters every time he leaves on missions that don’t include you. Moments when uncertainty and longing outweigh every cloud above or sound around.

A small, tender smile curves your lips.

Is there any other feeling as strong as love?

Leaning in, you press a soft peck to his, and at last, he finally lets his eyes flutter shut. The lines of worry etched across his face begin to ease, melting slowly with each heartbeat.

Every part of you intertwines. Hair brushes hair, hands cling to arms, lips meet lips. While the world blurs into a soft golden haze, a lone butterfly drifts quietly as a fleeting witness to your closeness.

You drown in each other, each soft gasp and heartbeat amplifying the connection, until the need to breathe reminds you both that even these moments, as infinite as they feel, exist within the bounds of reality.

“Guess you’ve got a knack for kissing, huh?” you tease, voice dripping with humor and just enough mischief.

Shugen lets out a soft scoff, followed by a chuckle, and presses his head against your shoulder. He inhales deeply, taking in your warmth and scent like it is a balm for his soul.

“Of course I do,” he says, voice low, almost smug.

“Don’t let Jikka-domo hear you admit that,” you warn.

A low, amused growl escapes him, you feel his smile press into your neck. The sensation makes you squirm, unable to resist the overwhelming tickle.

“Still too sensitive,” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin as he shifts, laughter threatening to break through.

“Careful,” you tease back, letting your fingers linger, “because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want us to get caught.”

His head lifts slightly, eyes meeting yours, the faintest glint of mischief appearing on that usually stoic face.

“It doesn’t appeal as … bothersome,” he says softly, gaze drifting downward, “I would pay the price of my contribution.”

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Oh? And what prize might that be?”

Shugen’s hand reaches for yours, capturing it gently. He lifts it, pressing the back of your palm to his lips in a soft, reverent kiss.

“Perhaps… it would open new opportunities for us,” he murmurs, looking to the side. Voice low, softly yet deeply intimate.

Tilting your head, you follow his gaze. A green butterfly perches delicately on the stone nearby, wings flickering in the sunlight. The sight makes your heart flutter, matching the quiet racing of your chest.

Shugen’s eyes flick back to you, a faint blush warming his cheeks. His jaw is sharp, the angles softened by the curve of his lips as he whispers, almost shyly,

“Marriage…”

You blink, stunned, letting the word hang between you.

“And… maybe children,” he adds, a soft laugh brushing through the statement, like it is half a dream, half a promise.

Your fingers tighten slightly in his, and you feel the weight of the moment settle between you.

Light, but full of life. Full of possibility, and heartbeats echoing in tandem. The wind stirs, the butterfly lifts into the air, and the world around you seems to pause, waiting to witness the quiet, daring confession of two hearts daring to imagine a future together.

“Shugen…” you mutter, breath catching in your throat, cheeks burning as you cup your face. “You can’t just say something like that!”

He tilts his head, a mischievous glint in his onyx eyes. “Would you not be delighted by such a thought?” His tone is teasing, yet genuine, and you can’t help but glance at the grass beneath you. Even the blades seem frozen, as if the world itself has paused in shock.

“That’s—I… I didn’t say that,” you stammer, heart hammering against your ribs.

“So you would be pl—”

Before he can finish, you lunge forward, hands flying to cover his mouth. The sudden movement sends both of you tumbling backward. Completely forgetting how the hill slopes beneath you.

Gravity wanting to remind you pulls you harshly, before landing in a groan. Uncomfortably sprawled, your body presses lightly against his. One hand lands near his head while the other clamps over his lips, muffling any protest he might voice.

“You can be very mean, you know that, Shugen-domo?” you breathe, fighting to keep your tone steady despite the fluttering panic in your chest. Shifting slightly, moving your hand from his mouth and balancing your weight on both hands, careful not to crush him.

Or yourself.

Mentally.

Shugen’s initial surprise softens almost immediately into a quiet, teasing smile. Hands slide up to your waist, warm and deliberate, while his gaze lingers briefly downward before snapping back to yours. Shameless, even in these moments.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, each word deliberate, almost reverent. His hair, tousled by the wind, catches the sunlight, strands brushing your cheek. Around you, the world seems suspended. Leaves flutter, the distant murmur of the river, a lone butterfly traces the sunlight above the stone.

As if your body blocks the reality of your life, replacing it with soothing things.

“Such cruelty,” he murmurs, pressing a soft hand against your waist. “Binding me to a romance and leaving me… like this.”

You blink, huffing, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m no runaway bride.”

“Bride,” he echoes, a playful lilt in the word, dark eyes gleaming with quiet affection.

Leaning a little closer, you let your foreheads touch. “You’re impossible,”

“And yet,” he breathes, eyes moving your one eye to the other, “I cannot imagine anyone else in my place.”

A hush falls around you, flowers bending as if to listen. Rustling leaves, distant river, heartbeats align, rapid and warm, as you linger in that suspended space. Stuck between teasing and confession, laughter and something far deeper.

Just like that, every worry from moments ago dissolves, vanishing like mist over a freshly washed painting.

Maybe it’s these moments that you cherish so hard. That the possibility of it ending has you broken before the day even comes.

Before you can speak, a familiar, little girl’s voice cuts through the backyard.

Sagiri.

Both of your heads snap up in shock. You topple slightly into him, wincing as your body hits his. Shugen remains perfectly unfazed, smiling small somehow both exasperated and endearing.

Of course.

“She can’t see us…” you mutter, voice low.

“Roll down and circle through the back path?” he suggests, the tiny hint of humor in his tone betraying his usual seriousness.

You nod, grateful for his calm.

Shifting off him, you roll carefully down the gentle slope, grass brushing against your arms. Shugen follows, chuckling softly in quiet whispers that mingle with the rustle of leaves.

Once at the bottom, you both scramble upright, brushing off stray blades of grass. Hands find each other, fingers interlacing with a natural ease, and together you slip into the promise of the forest beyond the compound. Once again, using the familiar escape route you rely on whenever getting caught here seems inevitable.

The shadows of the trees stretch long and welcoming, leaves brushing your shoulders as you run. You duck under low hanging branches, and Shugen’s laughter.

A rare sound.

“You know,” you whisper, smiling, “this is starting to feel like a secret mission just for us.”

The forest seems alive with possibility, each step, each glance, each breath weaving a memory that is yours alone.

“We’ll have plenty more.”

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

Rushed ending :p … more coming soon <3

[earthtooz]

phainon x gn!reader fluff, set post-ampho in a perfect world, cipher meddling, pre-relationship.

"and why do you have such a large plushie of phainon?" you stare down at the toy that cipher has thrust into your arms.

its likeness to him is uncanny; from the strands of his snowy hair to his overly complicated outfit that was hand designed by aglaea, every component of phainon was captured so well that this truly looked like a one-to-one replica. whoever designed and produced him has obviously put great care into his design.

except...

"why is he crying?"

little fabric tears dot his eyes and its small frown really makes it seem as though he's truly upset.

"don't judge a book by its cover, little y/n!" the titan of trickery scolds, "this one was the most popular! i stole him off the shelves just for you because he was one of a kind, everyone in planarcadia was a fiend for this specific one."

"you got one just for me?" you ask, looking up at her with a puzzled expression. "why me?"

"don't act like you don't want it, dear y/n."

you glance away, embarrassment creeping up your neck. you regret telling her about your (huge) crush on the hero. "do they enjoy watching people cry or something?"

"i don't know and don't care, i'm still waiting on a thanks, you know."

"thank you, cipher," you hold the soft plushie against your chest, "i'm glad i have an adorable version of phainon now."

she chuckles, "you should give plushienon a kiss to cheer him up!"

"don't call him plushienon, and i'm not kissing a toy!"

"aww, c'mon, it's just the deliverer boy, what's wrong with that?"

"it's embarrassing and juvenile!" you murmur, hiding behind the tufts of white hair.

"it's embarrassing to show the love of your life some affection?" she pouts, dramatising a pout. "this isn't even him, what will you do when it is the real deal?"

"fine!" you huff. "i'll kiss him!"

she giggles, satisfied. you press a fleeting kiss to his covered forehead, the fabric soft underneath your lips. you don't linger long, getting ready to sass cipher with a quip, but the words die on your tongue when you notice something unbelievable.

the small frown and teary blues that plushienon previously had have morphed into a beaming smile and bright eyes, the sudden change catching you off guard.

what is this elation magic- you swear he was crying before!

"little y/n, you look like you've seen a ghost! what's wrong?" cipher asks as she studies your expression with great amusement. "surely kissing him can't be that unenjoyable-"

you turn him around, "why is he happy all of a sudden?"

she begins cackling, her tail whipping. "oh my! i didn't know this thing was going to be true to life!"

"did you do something to him? you didn't use your trickery powers, did you?" you ask wildly, looking at him again to make sure that he was still smiling- and indeed he was. in fact, it seems as though he's grinning wider.

"this is brilliant! wow, i didn't think the deliverer's obnoxiously obvious affection for you would transcend into inanimate versions of himself as well!" the demigod is beside herself now, holding her stomach with tangible glee.

"hey! what do you mean affection? and obvious?"

"you'd find out if you just show him!"

"no!" you shriek, holding the big plushie to your chest now as your flustered cries get hidden by the bustling nature of okhema's markets. "i'm not showing phainon anything!"

an all-too-familiar voice pipes up from beside you. "why not?"

this is the worst day of your life. phainon absolutely can not see you holding a large plushie of him, and he can not know that you discovered it had the ability to change expressions as soon as you kissed its fabric-covered forehead.

cipher, however, had other plans.

"deliverer boy," she greets, "you have many fans outside amphoreus, did you know that? while i was in planarcadia, i found this!"

she gestures to the plushie that you have pressed against your chest. for a moment, the two stare at you expectedly. it is with great embarrassment that you reveal the item in your arms, unable to make eye contact with the white-haired before you.

"is that me?" he questions, "am i… crying?"

"isn't it so cute? wouldn't you agree, y/n?" cipher prods.

"i don't think it's cute because it's crying!" you murmur, trying to defend what is left of your dignity.

"so you think it's cute because it's lord phainon?"

"cipher!" you wish the ground could swallow you whole.

"anyways, what's more important is that y/n has found an interesting discovery by kissing plushie-you's forehead. why don't you show the great hero of amphoreus?"

you frown, the heat in your cheeks now unbearable. with a grumble, you turn around so that your back was towards the pair, not allowing either of them to see you peck the plushie's forehead. turning around, its frown has now transformed into a beaming smile, delight completely painting over its previously-woeful expression.

phainon is quiet for a moment and you brace for the worst, your heart thumping wildly in your ears as you wait for him to be offended or disgusted by your discovery.

instead, it is him who completely rips the carpet from underneath your feet.

"interesting, they've captured me scarily accurately…"

^ these are the plushies if anyone was curious/has not seen them

[totheonewhotiesredstrings]

no. 1 fan!

in which your friend watches your streams (and you don't know it's him).

streamer!phainon x streamer!reader

reader is a small-time streamer who does educational streams for fun. written in both povs.

phainon uses a chimera vtuber model so reader doesn't know what he looks like.

author's note: hopping on the neikos496 bandwagon 👍 also idk how streaming works so bear with me.

"and that's all on microbiology. was that okay? everyone following?"

a couple of "yessss" and thumbs up emojis fill the chat, and you give a small smile in return.

"that's great guys! microbiology's honestly one of the topics i'm weaker at so i wasn't sure if i would explain it well."

samoyed_lvr donated 100 credits!

samoyed_lvr: don't sell yourself short! your lessons are really easy to understand. im passing bio because of you haha :D

"aw, thank you! glad i can help. and thank you for the donation too, i appreciate it."

"anyways, i gotta go now guys! don't wanna miss neikos' stream. go check him out if you guys have the time! see you guys!"

your viewers greet you goodbye and leave one by one, the viewer count dropping down to 1. as always, they're the last to leave.

samoyed_lvr: amazing as always (name). you never fail to impress (*＾▽＾*)

you chuckle.

"flattery will get you nowhere. were you even paying attention?"

samoyed_lvr donated 143 credits!

samoyed_lvr: why wouldn't i when the teacher is you?

"one of these days i'm gonna figure out how to donate the money back to you and we'll see if you like it then."

samoyed_lvr donated 520 credits!

samoyed_lvr: i'd like anything as long as it's from you. but seriously, keep it okay? treat yourself ❤️

you feel your cheeks heat up as you read the messages, warmth blooming in your chest.

"i will. i really have to go now, see you!"

you wave enthusiastically at your computer screen and finally end the live. flopping back into your chair, you let out a sigh.

to be honest, you never thought you would pick up streaming.

in the beginning, it was a way for you to recall the info you learnt in class by pretending you were teaching someone. if anyone ever stumbled upon you, it would be through sheer luck.

one thing led to another, and you gained a small following. you felt a little nervous when you realised actual people on the internet were tuning in to your streams, but you gradually eased into it.

your audience was eager to learn and you were happy to share what you knew. the donations from samoyed_lvr also helped.

speaking of them, they were the first ever viewer you had. you didn't even notice someone was watching until they made their presence known in chat.

(you wish that you could've made a better first impression, considering the fact that you were crying during the first meeting.)

you were revising for a major test and hadn't even finished the lecture materials for the required topics. hence, there was a lot you didn't know.

it had been a horrible week for you too, and eventually all the stress caused you to break down. it would've been fine if you were bawling out your eyes all alone, except that you weren't.

samoyed_lvr: hey i hope you don't find this weird or anything but pls don't cry! it's okay to not know certain things, it doesn't mean you're incapable.

samoyed_lvr: just take things one step at a time, no need to rush yourself. you're not alone, alright? i belief in you!

samoyed_lvr: *believe. sry abt the typo!

the kind words caused your initial shock to fade away, and you ended up chatting with them until the early hours of the morning.

ever since then, samoyed_lvr has consistently appeared (and donated) in every stream.

you once asked them how they found the time to watch and the money to give, considering the fact that they were attending college like you. all you got in reply was an ambiguous "wouldn't you like to know?" with a winky face. what a tease.

anyways, you should stop reminiscing, neikos496's livestream is about to start!

you quickly click on the pre-opened tab in your browser which brings you into the live chat where many other fans spam stickers and messages, waiting for the show to begin.

five minutes later, a small model of a white and blue chimera appears on screen, a cheery voice filling your ears.

"hey guys, sorry i'm late! i was busy with a few things but it's all sorted out now so no worries! alright, what we're doing today is..."

ah, you're really lucky to have been born in a time where he exists.

phainon didn't think it was possible to be jealous of himself. but the way you talk about his other two identities makes him want to punch something. preferably himself.

"...and so i think they were flirting with me? like, they're really kind and sweet too. what do you think phainon?"

"i'm...not too sure. you know i'm hopeless when it comes to these things."

phainon translator: "yes, (name). samoyed_lvr aka yours truly was flirting with you."

"oh! and did you see neikos' new model?! he added a straw hat on the chimera for summer! it was so cute!"

"i did. it really suits the little guy!"

phainon translator: "is a small fluffy mythical monster really that much cuter?? what about me (name)?"

"i know right?! neikos is such a genius."

phainon isn't sure whether feel flattered or sad about that. though it seems he's made his displeasure clear on his face as you firmly press a finger between his brows.

"ow! no need to get violent y'know?"

"wrinkles are gonna develop early if you keep frowning like that. what, are you jealous?"

"why would i be jealous of myse—ahem. i'm not."

the look you give him clearly says "i don't believe you." and phainon wonders if he should come clean about everything. his heart almost drops when you take both his hands in yours and say:

"don't worry, phainon. no matter what, you'll always be my number one!"

"..."

"...phainon? phainon!"

phainon.exe is not working. please check again later.

[danijaci]

my husband suddenly became love"sick"?! ft. phainon

basically regressor au bc he lowkey fumbled in the past lifetime (and you died) so he pulled the uno reverse card and highkey turned back the time (pt3)

part 1

part 2

part 3

WARNING/S: yandere, obsessive behavior

[danijaci]

my husband suddenly became love"sick"?! ft. phainon

got the collective ideas from my post! ty yall <333 basically regressor au bc he lowkey fumbled in the past lifetime (and you died) so he pulled the uno reverse card and highkey turned back the time (pt1)

part 1

part 2

part 3

WARNING/S: yandere, obsessive behavior, implied drugging at the end

[danijaci]

𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞"𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤"?! 𝐟𝐭. 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐧

「 ✦ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✦ 」

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary!! basically regressor au bc he lowkey fumbled in the past lifetime (you died) so he pulled the uno reverse card and highkey turned back the time

sfw ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: fluff, angst, suggestive?? (kissy kiss in the future chapters but that's all) ╰┈➤warning/s: yandere, obsessive content, dark content, character death ╰┈➤rating: 16+ (anyone below DO NOT INTERACT)

STATUS: ongoing

✦ CHAPTERS ✦

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4 (tbd)

✦ ADDENDUM✦

Since I may not be able to explore it in the comics, I'm giving these details to provide the narrative more context tehee

addendum 1

✦ DISCUSSIONS ✦

#lovesick! talks

✦ MEMES ✦

#lovesick! memes

© 2025-2026 All works made by danijaci, you may not reproduce or translate to any platform without my permission, NEVER feed to any AI platform/create them into bots

[strawberryg-cake]

૮꒰ 𓈒. ݂ .𓈒ྀི ꒱ა ┊If Varka were a pet, he would definitely be a golden retriever. Imagine him turning into an animal after testing one of Sucrose's potions; because he’s the type to adopt everyone, he would have been all too willing to help. He’d end up as a beautiful dog, and of course, you wouldn't know it was him. You would simply take care of him because he’s such a handsome and playful dog that you couldn't just leave him. You’d feed him, bathe him, play with him, and watch his tail wag suspiciously fast whenever he sees you drinking.

Pet! Varka would love cuddling, letting you scratch behind his soft ears and kiss his head. But deep in the night, the potion wears off, and you wake up on the sofa—where the alcohol made you drift off—only to find soft blonde hair against your thigh. It’s no longer a dog, but the Grandmaster himself resting peacefully. With his head in your lap and his breathing soft, he is clearly content to have all your attention. Even in such peculiar circumstances, he seems to enjoy having you all to himself.

[oldestfear]

acts of love, starring: VARKA ☆ being the wife of mondstadt's famed grandmaster is akin to taking care of a big and clingy dog! but you won't trade it for the world. SFW!

varka adores you. he loves loudly, selflessly.

everyone he's ever met, even from all the way to nod-krai and inazuma, know about you. varka is an irritating chatterbox when it comes his wife, to the point it's become a defining trait for him. whenever he gets a chance, he makes sure to sneak in an anecdote about you. . .even if it doesn't have any connection to the current discussion.

the people of mondstadt are endeared by it. always amused by the ruckus he makes when his beloved is involved, and the way he fights for your name during those "who's the most beautiful in mondstadt?" debates in taverns? it's hilarious.

varka took those questions so seriously, got soo heated, that everyone had to add a specific rule: 'with the exception of the grandmaster's wife, of course'.

after that, he wasn't too interested in those drunken debates anymore, laughing in earnest when asked – who is the most beautiful in mondstadt? sometimes he says rosaria just to tease her when she's around, other times, he says barbatos for the heck of it.

"fools, all of you!" varka slams his pint of dandelion wine down the table, brows furrowed in irritation, "my wife is the sweetest and most beautiful lady there is! how blind can you be to suggest anyone else?" his voice booms all throughout the tavern, making people turn their heads.

"u-uh but grandmaster, let's be realistic here, you—"

the poor guy is now being glared at by the grandmaster of mondstadt, a living legend, a knight recognized by the great wolf boreas and the anemo archon – a smitten, wife-loving, hunk of a man who's willing to forgo all dignity in order to defend his wife's honor.

varka clicks his tongue, and it quickly shuts the soldier up, knowing who he's against but it's too late to stop when varka suddenly speaks up again:

"realistic, you say? you sayin' my wife ain't gorgeous, that it?"

older, veteran soldiers are now looking at the new recruit with pity in their eyes. they've known their grandmaster for years, have fought alongside him, and are even willing to lay their lives for him, so if they know one thing about varka, it's that you never speak negatively about his wife. don't even dare imply it.

a loyal dog may bark but a smitten one will bite.

"that's not it, sir!" the young soldier quickly tries to make amends, stuttering in the process but the only response he got was a small huff from varka.

the other soldiers circle around their table, snickering to each other, "now, now, you know your wife is never included in these kinda' stuff. we wouldn't dare speak of the grandmaster's beloved that way."

"damn right, she's above these petty discussions! AHAHAHAHA!"

he's actually hopeless when it comes to you.

a truly unorthodox man, he is. hard to understand but terrifyingly easy to trust and admire. adored by many despite his ruffian-like demeanor. a slacker yet somehow the most reliable knight there is in the people's eyes. a person of contrasting qualities.

varka of mondstadt is said to be a 'man amongst men', chivalry comes to him like second nature and his list of admirers could fill the favonius library's record book, literally.

but they're in tough luck, the grandmaster only has eyes for you after all. it is no secret how smitten the oh-so-great knight of boreas, varka is for his wife.

no one even tries to approach him with romantic intentions anymore after he's made it very clear where he stands, which is forever next to you. many women, early on in both of your relationship, have tried to swoon and seduce him but they're met with very firm rejections. if there's anything he's strict about, it's this. and he expects the same treatment others give him with you, meaning if someone ever tried flirting or oh lord barbatos – make you leave him, they're getting the harshest talk ever, from varka and the people of mondstadt. 'cause the vendors are your biggest fans after all. though just him would probably be enough, do you know how scary varka is when he's serious? it's more than enough to make a grown man cry.

that's only if you can't handle it or the person is too persistent and you might actually hurt whoever this is. varka's there as a middle man, and hey if he pushes a little too hard while trying to create some distance between the two of you, who's to say it's not a complete accident? he's not exactly a saint of patience, particularly when your safety and comfort is compromised. he isn't the grandmaster of the knights of favonius for nothing.

he's like an obedient angel towards you though, if the angel was over six foot and had a frame huge enough to become an umbrella during hot days.

like a dog wagging it's tail, he beams immediately when he sees your figure from afar. suddenly, he's standing despite jean's protests and kaeya's exasperation, jumping out the window (even though he's on the third floor) and jogging over to you.

"hon! over here!"

you try to walk faster, hoping you heard wrong. because if you did, that means varka is slacking off again and you have to force him to go back to jean, lest she actually pops a blood vessel this time.

"hey don't ignore me!" he catches up to you in no time, barely even taking twelve steps before making it to your side.

you look up at his hulking figure, "go back to work. jean looks about ready to drop dead. or drop you dead." you can spot her angry expression from here, shouting a stern 'grandmaster varka!' but varka pretends to be deaf, focusing on you.

"puh-lease!" he scoffs, laughing boisterously with hands on his hips, "jean dropping dead, hah! you're hilarious. that girl's tough as nails! plus, those look heavy – ah, here let me.."

varka takes your shopping bags from you, carrying three bags in one hand while he interwines his other with yours.

"cookin' up a storm, huh?" varka glances at the ingredients in the bag: some vegetables, fruits, spices, and heavy cuts of meat. no doubt for him and his big carnivorous appetite.

he's smiling in that gooey, lovesick, way again. varka has always been a smiley person, but with you, it was more of a devoted sort of smile – one with less teeth and more wobbly, licked, lips where he gets an itch to scream ' i love you ' on the top of his lungs – letting it echo all throughout teyvat to make sure everyone knew.

eh, he does the same thing anyways with the way he chatters about you to every person he's met. talks and talks and talks until the people are listless, for hours if he could.

he escorts you home, hand in hand. cuts the vegetables as you get the stove started. sings a tune of windchimes and cliffs in that raspy tone of his while he helps with the peeling and heavy work, places chaste kisses on your cheek while you giggle.

jean can't get too mad at that, but she can at least nag varka until his ears fall off.

varka hates writing, hates paperwork all together. can't even stand the sight of paper in the office, always dreading the mountains of it stacked on his desk.

he'd rather be out fighting monsters, training recruits, or having a drink at angel's share. there are a million better things to do than boring ol' paperwork, like bothering people and smothering you with his love. he really, reeeally hates writing!

but he loves you.

he only likes writing when it's to his beloved. it's rare for the grandmaster to actually smile whenever he picks up a pen, usually he does so with a grimace. scowling like a petulant child while he twirls the pen in his hand, sighing every second while he stares at the documents on his desk. however. . .

it's different with you, it always is.

fredwinn is looking at the grandmaster with a suspicious and concerned gaze, it's really odd to see him so happy. . .

while writing.

he's getting weirded out, enough to ask others why such a massive and well-known loafer is actually writing with so much delight his smile looks about ready to split his face. he's met with small knowing grins and giggles from the other soldiers instead. he'll figure it out soon, they say.

he takes a peek over at what varka's writing, met with over two pages of words, small doodles of things they've fought in the margins of the paper – and how the hell is it colored? did he seriously buy crayons just for this? it's badly drawn though if he were to be honest, looks like a child made it. but the amount of words written baffle him, he's never seen the grandmaster write this much.

sure, it's starting to look a bit like chicken scratch because of how fast and how much he's writing but varka's never been one to be happy while writing something – he barely even wrote! like at all. even if he did, he usually made others do it in his stead. the man's great at fighting but he's not exactly a sit in a chair and write reports sort of guy.

perhaps long expeditions change people.

or, maybe he's an idiot who rambles too much in his letters – as long as they're addressed to you. fredwinn soon learns of this after a while, spotting the name of the recipitent in every letter, always followed by a heart. because varka's sappy like that.

varka loves you to the point of blatant favoritism, although he's never been strict with his soldiers, he does dish out punishments when needed. makes sure they learn their lesson too, 'cause what kinda grandmaster would he be if he doesn't?

you could never do wrong though, simply not a concept that exists in that empty head of his.

his wife made a mistake? ah, no biggie, he'll take care of it. you accidentally set the favonius headquarters on fire? oh no! don't worry, he'll handle it, just make sure to get to safety. you ripped his coat to shreds while washing? haha! so funny, anyways did you hear what razor learned today? that's right, its how to write yours and varka's name! isn't that so cool?

you can slack of more than him and he'd still call you the most hardworking person he's ever met. you could never ever do wrong in varka's eyes, it's like telling him the sky is brown or alcohol is bad.

. . .wait, you hid the alcohol? honey, dont be like that! he'll cry, seriously.

you're an exception to many things, and for a good reason, a simple yet profound reason, and also the main reason he fell in-love with you in the first place: it's you. beyond being his wife, his other-half, and varka's closest confidant – you are you, that in itself is already enough for varka, even without the prior accolades.

with both of your legs entwined with each other, your face in his chest as you rest on his bicep. it feels like a rock is under the side your head from how firm his muscles are, but you've gotten used to it, now it just reminds you of home.

because varka is home, and you'd never get homesick if he's around.

"does it not bother you?" he hums, chin propped on your head. you can feel the rumble in his chest when he speaks, makes your head all woozy and sleepy. being surrounded by his scent relaxes your tired body, and you let your eyes clos in response.

"what do you mean?" you ask, nuzzling in his chest further, his clothes smell freshly laundered, with that familiar detergent that you use.

varka keeps quiet for a few seconds, wondering if he should even say anything, "the way they address you as 'grandmaster's wife' instead of your name."

you can only mumble an answer, something varka can't quite catch but he assumes the worst.

he sets a small kiss on your forehead, wrapping you in his arms, "i'll tell them to stop, don't worry."

finally, you jolt awake, "no, no! it's really okay, i don't mind it."

varka looks at you with a complicated expression, finding it hard to believe.

"i like it...being called your wife, being known as yours." you flush, hiding your face. honestly, whenever people greet you in the market as 'grandmaster's wife' or 'varka's lady', it makes you giddy, heart-racing like a girl being teased about her crush.

the people don't mean anything malicious, you know that much and he knows too but it makes you grateful that he's still asking how you feel about it. always so considerate, treating your heart like porcelain. varka's like that, you're pretty sure his worst nightmare is making you upset.

varka has been completely quiet for a few seconds now but you can hear the loud thump, thump, thump of his heart within embrace. you don't have to look at him to know he's just as, if not more, flustered than you.

"alright, if you say so." he buries his face in your neck, curling in himself to be much closer to you.

"i really like it too, when they call me your husband. gets me all happy, y'know?" he mumbles gruffly.

you already know that, because he goes beet red whenever the vendors tease him. it's really obvious. but he's always been obvious with his devotion, you love that about him.

varka loves you, he's loud and clumsy with it but who cares? that just comes with the package.

#it's-your-captain-ari-speaking ☆ ....yes the phainon to varka pipeline is real and its coming FOR YOU. accept your fate. ive been obsessed with this man like holy shit. take this short drabble hehe.

[harmonysanreads]

What your favorite HSR men say about you #NotRagebait

[purarupu]

mashle siblings' plane seat situation

[earthtooz]

has anyone ever thought about being an internet famous couple with phainon…

spontaneously one video of a date night fit check blows up and suddenly the comments are a spam of ‘girl whatever’ and ‘god i see what you’ve done for others’ and ‘hahahahha so cute… 😒’ and ‘this fuckass app bro’, and all of a sudden, you’re consistently posting couple trends with phainon that the internet loves.

there are a handful of comments that entertain the two of you greatly, and any comment complimenting you is instantly liked by him. however, your most viral video to date, is in response to a singular comment.

‘he [phainon] can’t handle all that’.

and the response is you two in an empty gym, where you set the camera up and walk back to be completely in frame, before the white-haired suddenly comes into view and swoops you up with barely any effort.

the video cuts to even more clips of him just picking you up in multiple ways: over the shoulder, with one arm, bridal carry where he proceeds to do bicep curls with you, you sat pretty on his back while he does pushups with perfect form— you name it, he shows it off. proudly.

he doesn’t even try to be funny, because if there’s one thing phainon does not play about, it’s you.

he’s not gonna lose you to some stranger online with too much ego, and your obvious delight as he holds you close simply reaffirms that that won’t happen.

the caption is simple.

‘yes he can, actually’