ᴀʀꜱᴇɴɪᴀ

Previously known as Neimlise/Nameless

[ivrsenia]

⊰ About me

Senia (prev. Neimlise)

Fanfiction Writer

She/her

Nineteen

⊰ Platforms

A03

Wattpad

Quotev

⊰ Fandoms

Devil May Cry

Final Fantasy XIV

Gachiakuta

Lost Ark

One Piece

etc...

⊰ Recent Work

"Good luck kisses." (Gris Rubion x Reader)

May I please have a cup of coffee?

[ivrsenia]

// Lost Ark spoilers

Haha Kazeros you’re so fucking funny

[owlespresso]

"I cant help how i feel about you" with Meteor please! You write him so well!

There's been a change in him, lately. You hadn't noticed it at first, too busy with adjusting to life on the First to pay close attention. There was so much that needed doing, sineaters that needed slaying, crates that needed lifting, fish that needed to be delivered to the upper floors of the Crystarium for cooking. Between forays into the light-blighted lands and housekeeping your place of residence, you haven't had much time to afford him.

Now that the night has returned to Lakeland, activity has only ramped up. There's a feeling of indescribable wonder in the air as the people walk outside and look to the stars for the first time in a century. It is a tangible, real hope that they can lay their eyes upon. All that remains is to locate and fell the rest of the Lightwardens. The scholars and Scions of the Crystarium are busily attempting to locate each one. You, for the most part, patrol and sit on your hands as you wait for good news.

Having a plan of action leaves some room to breathe.

Room enough to notice how Meteor slips off in the middle of the night. Room enough to notice the angry, red scratches up and down his back as he shucks off his armor and clothes after a long day. You see him loom over unsuspecting ladies in the newfound dark of the night, hear the low moans and sounds of unraveling echo down the hall to the room where you stay when he brings his conquests home.

You've walked in on him prying Granson's thighs apart. You've seen him drape an arm across Y'shtola's shoulder, breath brushing against the shell of her ear. You've been his lips on Thancred's throat, the dashing rogue's fingers caught in his hair. The First has changed something in him, dyed his armor black and soul a beating red, awoken an appetite you can scarcely understand.

In the small hours of the night. In the brief moments of free time you have. In between the tasks delegated to you by the Crystarium's people. You wonder when he will get an appetite for you. You then quash the very idea and scuttle off to find something to busy your hands with.

The sun has set. Evening cool has settled over your room at The Pendants. The nighttime chill too was something the residents had to adjust to. You're finding it difficult to worry about that, when Meteor is on top of you.

His blue eyes are bright against the dark of the room. His hand, fingers curled like talons, grip the bedding beside your head. You can't remember how it wound up like this. There had been a battle, earlier today—more of a skirmish on the Lakeland outskirts. You hadn't even been there, but you had heard.

Heard the desolation and bloodshed left in your companion's wake. They were bandits,it had been kill or be killed, but his violence still frightened the guards he patrolled with.

And now he is here, looming over you, gaze sweeping down the column of your neck to your bared shoulders. A thick thigh slides in between your legs, nestles up against your clothed cunt.

"Is this just what you do, now?" you can't help but inquire, voice a whisper. The implication hovers between the two of you, in the midst of the twilight gloom.

"Not with you," he murmurs, teeth kissing the side of your neck. His other hand gently palms your hip, rubs soothing circles onto the ridges of you. Calloused fingers warm.

"What makes me different?" you cannot help but ask, palms roaming the broad space over his ribs. His sides twitch under your steady ministrations. You squeeze the flexing muscle and he sighs contentedly into your throat, paving a path down to your collarbones with his hot tongue.

His eyelashes flutter. This close, you can count each one.

"It’s not the same as with the others," he says, sounding almost pained. He sucks on the space beneath your collarbone, carves himself into your skin. He is languid and aching. You can feel it, the borders of your echoes overlapping with each sanguine touch. "I can't help the way I feel about you."

[ivrsenia]

I’m still not over this btw

[hckzee]

—GRIS RUBION MAKING HIS MOVE!

"Paninindigan kita, oo Kahit alam kong tayo'y magbabago" eng trans: "I will stand by you, yes / Even if I know that we'll change"

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— gris rubion x afab! reader — gris is 30, while reader is 28-30 — tags: fluff, flirting, implications of sex, falling in love - kind of, strangers to lovers - kind of, soft and gentleman gris rubion because i said so, one-night stand, but no smut bc i can't write one (though, if i could, this would've been longer), gris is probably ooc but that's okay bc he's still hot, lowkey self-indulgent but when have i ever written an x reader that wasn't one lol — i have never been in a bar nor experience this encounter so if it doesn't sound like something feasible, just pretend it is </3 — i was supposed to continue my hell guard trainee zanka x reader, but paninindigan kita by ben&ben played in my playlist and my mind automatically went to this husband of a man!

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

GRIS KNEW THAT it was only a matter of time before he finds the woman he wanted to settle down with, and eventually have kids of their own. He was already thirty-years old, a little over his prime age, and he was slowly feeling it in the aches of his bones and tenson in his muscles. It wasn't like he was that old—despite what Enjin says, which was laughable coming from someone only two years younger than him—but he was also aware that thirty wasn't exactly the preferred age of single women he'd flirt with in bars and restaurant.

        They'd pause, a flicker of shock flashing across their eyes as hunger became evident in their stare. Usually, younger women tend to flock around him after learning his age; though, he was well aware it was mainly for his experience with sex. Not to brag, but he considers himself a good sexual partner (his past flings can attest to this fact.)

        But the older you get, the less exciting it was to keep entertaining one-night stands.

        It was the same routine: drink, flirt, make-out as a test, go to a motel, have sex, sleep, quietly leave and pay for the room the moment he wakes up.

        Gris was getting tired of it all. He wanted something more serious—he wanted a wife.

        Then, enter you.

        It was the usual celebration of the Cleaners at the pub. They had just successfully returned from another round with the Raiders, and this time, they actually managed to scare them off quite good. Hell, even Zanka (who'd usually sulk in his room) was there with them all smiles and laughter!

        He was with the rest of the Supporters, mingling along with Follo and Tomme as they discussed the battle that had happened. He was in the middle of imitating the pose Enjin had struck when he felt a body pressed behind his back. Immediately, he turned around and was horrified to see he had bumped into you—causing you to drop the drink on your hand.

        He lowered his torso, gazing down at you while hovering his hand just above your shoulder. "I'm sorry about that, Miss," he apologised, frowning. "If you'd like, I can get you a new one?"

        You blinked up at him, surprised. Mindlessly, he noted how big and pretty they were. Then, you smiled—small and soft, like a delicate doll that has been taken care of. "It's alright," you mumbled, crouching down to pick up the fallen cup. "I was just about to finish this cup anyway."

        "Let me buy you your next one, then. It's the least that I could do."

        You stared at him with your pretty eyes, lashes softly bouncing on your skin whenever you blinked. Luckily, you agreed with his insistence and the two of you were off to the bar. At the edge of his vision, he could see Follo giving money to a grinning Tomme.

        Ah, those brats.

        They made a bet about him. Again.

        Once you and Gris were sitting at the highchairs, he took the initiative to introduce himself. It was only proper, seeing as he was buying you a drink. Plus, who wouldn't want to know the name of the pretty woman they were talking to?

        "Gris Rubion," you mumbled under your breath after saying your name as well, unknowingly sending a shiver down the man's spine. "That's a nice name. It suits you."

        He rose a brow, curious. "Really? How so?"

        "It sounds tough and manly—you look that part already," you giggled, taking a sip of your drink as you gaze at him under those pretty lashes of yours. He inched closer, glass of beer dangling on his hands with interest. "Plus, it rolls of the tongue smoothly." Leaning to his ears, you whispered, hot breath tingling his nerves. "Gris."

        He flushed red, but didn't dare to move away from your warmth. Your hair fell from your ears, tickling the ends of his nose. You smelt like [favourite scent], a scent that he wanted to get more familiar with.

        Weird.

        Was it because it has been far too long since he had been with a woman? Or was it something about you?

        Because a desire was bubbling inside his stomach, churning with excitement as you leaned back with the same smile you flashed him earlier. Like you hadn't just moaned out his name in his ear.

        Gris chuckled, feeling the heat in his nape and chest. "So I've been told," he grinned, taking a sip of the beer to distract his thoughts. At the corner of his eyes, he could see Enjin giving him a thumbs up and miming something he rather not understand at all.

        You raised a brow, amused from his words. "Oh? So, you buying me drinks isn't special? Ouch, and here I thought we could share a moment."

        "It's the bar—everyone buys drink to someone," he countered, not really minding toning down whatever was between the two of you. He had never been the one to rush into things, liking to take it slow and get to know the person he was dealing with.

        You blinked, obviously caught by surprise, before chuckling. "Yeah, that sounds about right," you mumbled. You pointed at the spot that he had accidentally bumped into you. The floor was now clean, the rest of the Supporters were chatting with another another, causing him to smile. "You're with them, right?"

        He nodded. "They're my teammates."

        "Teammates? Not co-workers?"

        "No. We're part of the Cleaners."

        Your mouth fell open into a sound of acknowledgement. "Those people who kill the trash beasts; I've heard of you guys," you told him, turning back to face him with a leg across another.

        He did his best to avert his gaze. "Yeah. Although we aren't really the ones who exterminate them—that honour goes to the Givers," he informed you, pointing a finger towards himself. "We're Supporters; we specialise in aiding the Givers with everything we got. It ranges from visual sightings, to fighting alongside them."

        Your eyes shone under the bar light, intrigued. You inched closer, to the point that your elbows sent a shock of electricity in his forearms. "Woah, so you're not a Giver?" you asked, titling your head to the side.

        Cute, Gris thought, before answering, "No. All of us Supporters are non-Givers. Well, some of us are trying to become one, but they haven't awakened their jinkis just yet."

        Whenever the topic of the conversation was about his job, the women he'd usually talk to were either faking interest or suddenly caught the charismatic charms of Enjin. Briefly, Gris wondered which category you would fall into. Would you try to pretend to listen to his rambles just to sleep with him, or change targets to the tattooed man, who'd be more than welcoming to the attention.        

        "That's so... cool...!" you squealed, clapping your hands as you all but close the distance between your faces. "So a non-Giver can actually fight alongside Givers? Is it hard to keep up with their jinkis, or is it a better position since you'll be fighting on the side?"

        Gris's mind went blank, totally not expecting the genuine interest you were radiating. Your eyes were wide, shining brightly, as you used your arms to support your upper torso, which was dangerously angled to his direction. You were staring at his own eyes, unwilling to back down until you've heard the answer.

        The older man can feel his lips tugging upwards, mentally sending a triumphant smirk to the tattooed man. "Yes, we certainly can keep up with them Givers," he answered, leaning back to give the two of you a respectable space. "Not to say that we're on par with them, but all of us can hold our own against a normal trash beast until a Giver permanently exterminates it."

        "Woah..." you breathed out, dropping back to your seat. "I'd never really thought a non-Giver could do those." Before Gris could form a thought, you quickly shook your head, pressing your lips into a thin line. "I'm not saying that I think the Givers are superior or whatever! It just that—well, everybody keep saying that only Givers could kill trash beasts, so I assumed that Supporters were mostly medics and archivists."

        Gris really couldn't take offense to that, because it was normal for everyone to assume the same. Even some Givers within the Cleaners thought of Supporters as lesser than them at the start; and he can only hope that their views had change or he would need to challenge them to a hand-to-hand combat again.

        "It's alright. Almost everyone thinks that," Gris reassured you, placing a hand gently on your shoulder. He felt you tensed up, and for a second, he thought he had messed up. Luckily, you seemed to melt under his touch, even leaning to him. "And you're not exactly wrong either. Most Supporter opt to play those roles, especially if their combat abilities aren't that strong. But—"

        You cut him off, nodding respectfully, "—that doesn't mean that Supporters are weak."

        "Well, I was going to say 'But the roles we play are just as important too,' though, I wouldn't disagree with your statement."

        Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment—the colour suiting your complexion, in Gris's humble opinion—as you chugged the remaining beer in your glass. He chuckled, doing the same with his beer and pushing the glass toward the bartender.

        "I still stand corrected," you mumbled, pouting as you glared at him. "Supporters aren't weak. I mean, look at you—full of muscles and that scar just screams experienced and deadly strong!"

        Gris smirked, the faint flush of alcohol loosening whatever filter he had set upon him moments before. He leaned in, matching the way you'd teased him earlier. His breath flushed your ear as he murmured, voice low and deliberately provocative:

        "So, that's your theory? Wanna test if your correct?"

        You jerked back, face turning beet red. But Gris caught everything—the hint of a smile tugging at your lips, the way your breath hitched and how your eyes widen from shock and excitement. He could practically feel the warmth rolling off your body.

        After a second too long, you reached for him, fingers curling into his shirt. You pulled him closer, lips grazing his ear as you whispered, "I'd absolutely love to, Gris."

        That was all it took.

        He laced his fingers with yours, guiding you out of the pub and into the cool night air. The two of you walked hand-in-hand toward a quiet motel near the centre of the city—which was surprisingly bare from people. He took care of getting a room, guiding you to its direction and letting you enter first before closing the door behind him.

        When Gris turned around, your lips were already on his.

────୨ৎ────

GRIS WATCHED THE slow rise and fall of your breathing, a quiet satisfaction settling in his chest. In the soft morning light, the marks on your skin looked almost artistic—scattered proof of how tightly you'd held onto each other through the night, with only the room as your audience.

        He brushed a strand of hair away from your forehead, careful not to wake you. You shifted at the touch, instinctively leaning into his head, and something unsteady flickered through his expression, hands freezing just an inch away from your damp skin.

        "...Cute," he muttered under his breath, almost shocked that the word slipped out of his mouth even when dirtier things had been exchanged by the two of you.

        He leaned back against the headboard, blanket slowly sliding down to his abdomen as he rubbed his face with one hand.

        He hadn't planned on having a one-night stand yesterday, all he wanted to do was enjoy the company of his team. Yeah, maybe he would've flirted with another woman if he hadn't bumped into you, but he wasn't exactly forming the thought of being with someone in a motel room, rather than sleeping the hangover away in the headquarters.

        Yet, here he was with you.

        A thump of his heart stirred a desire he had been long avoiding to face. You looked ethereal beside him, hair cascading down your face and body like the mythical waterfall he had read on ancient books, lashes lying on your cheeks, a subtle shade of pink adorning your cheeks, and your lips—gosh, your luscious lips. They were plump, evidences of a long and heated make-out session were evident on it.

        He thought of how you looked under him last night. On how you moaned and something something i cannot write bro

        Then, his mind flashed to the moment in the bar. How excited you were learning that not only was he a Cleaner, but a non-Giver Supporter as well. The genuine interest your eyes held as you rambled on and on about your theories with jinkis and how normal humans such as yourselves were still equal to the Givers, despite some arguing the opposite.

        Finally, he let himself drown in your warm embrace, away from the pollution of the Ground, the horrors of his job, and the dawning realisation of his growing age.

        The room was quiet, save for your steady breathing and the muffled city noise outside. Gris let his eyes wander—your clothes were loosely scattered across the floor, his own uniform piled up at the foot of the bed, and the bedsheets a mess from how restless you'd both been.

        He exhaled a slow, conflicted breath.

        "What did I get myself into..." he murmured, smiling softly to himself.

        Despite his words, he didn't move away. If anything, his hand drifted closer, brushing his knuckles against your cheek like he wanted to memorise the warmth of you another round.

        You stirred, eyes slowly blinking open as it landed on him.

        For a second, you looked confused, then, you let your gaze wander to his face, body, the messy sheets, and the fact that you were naked underneath the blanket.

        Your entire expression bloomed into a slow, shy smile.

        "G'morning, Gris..." you mumbled.

        Gris' smile widen an inch, butterflies awakening in his stomach. "Morning," he greeted back, voice rougher than he intended.

        You stretched, wincing slightly as you fell back to the pillow. "Ugh... I can't move my body properly..."

        He looked away, a smirk tugging at his mouth. "Wonder why that is."

        You playfully slapped his stomach, laughing under your breath—soft, genuine, and even a little embarrassed.

       Gris watched your hand softly fall back onto his stomach, both our laughter lingering in the air between you. You weren't shy anymore---well, you still were, but not enough to hide that pretty face of yours.

       "You sound so cocky," you teased, nudging him with your knee under the blanket.

       He snorted, nudging you back. "That because I know I gave you a good time."

       You playfully rolled your eyes. "Cockiness isn't a good look on ya."

       Gris chuckled, the soft sound vibrating in his chest like he had just been shot by a love bug. It was strange. Everything with you felt easier. Natural. Like he didn't need to have to hold his breath down.

       You shifted closer, head resting on his thighs. "Y'know... I really don't regret last night."

       He felt the words strike deeper than they should've. His breath hitched, stuck in his throat as he stared at your serious expression. "You don't...?"

       You nodded. "You're not exactly the type I pictured myself with, but—" You paused, eyes scanning his face with warmth. "I think I'll have to change that now."

       He titled his head, a small smile tugging his lips. "Oh, yeah? Just because I gave you one hell of a night, you're going to change your entire type in men?"

       You grinned, poking his chest. "Not just because of that. I enjoyed our talk back in the bar and you were so gentle with me—even now. You don't have to stay with me here after our one night stand, but you did."

       Gris's gaze softened as your words settled over him. He found himself resting his hand over yours, tracing your thumb with his, "...It just felt right to do so," he murmured, voice full of sincerity.

       You blinked, momentarily stunned by his tone. "...Really?"

       "Really," he confirmed, eyes holding your gaze steadily. "No games. No obligations. No one telling me to do this. I stayed because it felt right."

       Your eyes widen at his honesty. For a brief second, he was scared that this would all be too much for you. That you weren't expecting him to be genuine and that you'd pull away, leaving him behind with only your shared memories.

       Instead, you smiled, one small, yet genuine smile as you interlocked hands with his. "I...I like that," you whispered. "Like it a lot."

        For a moment, the two of you just stayed there, wrapped in an unfamiliar kind of quiet. Not awkward. Not tense. Just... warm and peaceful.

       Before his brain could even register his thoughts, Gris spoke again. "Would you give me the honour of courting you?"

       You jerked up in shock as you slowly digested his words. Faint red blossomed across your face, leading you to bury it on the pillow as Gris cleared his throat, embarrassed by thinking his thoughts aloud.

       "You're—wait—seriously asking that after we had sex?" you mumbled, squinting at him over the pillow.

       He nodded, unwavering despite the rampant beating of his heart. "Yes. I know it's unconventional given our... situation but," he paused, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "it feels right. And I'm not the type to pretend something doesn't matter when it does."

       He cupped your cheek into his hand, thumb brushing lightly as he continued, "I want to get to know you more. Not just the version I saw last night. All of you."

       Silence.

       You stared at him, wide-eyed, cheeks flushed, mouth slightly parted. His heart thumped hard in his chest, each beat so loud he was sure you could also hear it. He tried reading your expression, but it was still frozen in equal parts shock, warmth, and something unspoken.

       Finally, you whispered, head hanging low, "You really meant... that?"

       Gris nodded, slow and deliberate. "I do." Then, he added, "You don't have to answer right now. Just... know that I mean it."

       You took his hands into yours, trembling slightly as you looked at him again, searching for any sign of jest, teasing, or trickery—but there was none. Your eyes softened, lips curving into a shy smile that made Gris feel something he rarely let himself have: a kind of peace he didn't want to let go.

       "...I think," you whispered, leaning a little closer to his face, "I might just have to see where this goes."

       Gris's heart stuttered, nearly choking his insides from your words. Without thinking, he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, letting the warmth linger.

       Yeah, he realised. He could definitely get used to this.

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sorry there were no smut. trust me, i really tried writing one but couldn't make it past the sloppy make-out session. im a freak in nature, but somehow, i cannot translate those into words </3

[ivrsenia]

We honestly don’t deserve Gris man 😭

[loganwritesprobably]

A Really Good Kiss (G.R.)

Synopsis: With just a little teasing, Gris decides he can’t hold back anymore Tags/Warnings: Gris/GN!Reader, fluff, kisses, making out, just two friends who kiss Word Count: 1,404

For prompt "cozy night in" from my Winter Request Event

For this request

AO3 | Masterlist | Req Rules | Trades | Community | WIPs

A trash storm was never a fun thing to experience. Unless, of course, you were indoors and far away from it and it gave you a day off from work to relax with your friends. Except.. most of your friends were busy. That wouldn’t stop you and Gris however, from making the most of your free time. You’d found him at breakfast and draped yourself over his shoulders, asking if he’d like to spend the day relaxing with you, and truly he’d been powerless to refuse.

You’d both gone back to your rooms to shower and change into fresh pyjamas, then you’d headed through to his room once he’d confirmed with his communication choker that he was ready. You dropped onto his sofa without hesitation, more than familiar with the layout of his space by now, and Gris didn’t bat an eye at the weight beside him, remote for his TV in hand. “What are you feeling?” He asked, offering the remote to you to find something for the both of you to watch. Gris, generally, didn’t care what was on as long as he was spending time with the people he liked spending time with, and you tended to be more bothered with finding something you were actually interested in so he was happy to just let you choose.

Once something was playing on the screen, the two of you shuffled to get more comfortable. Gris had never been someone that shied away from physical touch, and you were someone who often craved it, so it was an easy matchup. You often were found draped over him or touching him somehow, even if the two of you weren’t talking or doing an activity together. You just liked to keep contact with the people around you, it kept you grounded. So, when Gris grabbed the blanket, you happily stood to let him make room for you. He lifted his legs onto the sofa, and parted them so you could sit between them, your back reclined sightly against his chest. He pulled the blanket up and over the both of you then, letting you fiddle and tuck it in around you both to keep you warm and comfortable.

Despite the fact that you chose what you were watching, you were unashamed to admit that it didn’t hold your attention for long. You were far more interested in the man behind you. You turned around where you sat to instead press your chests together, resting your chin on your hands to look up at him. “Can I help you, darlin?” He asked, looking down at you with a single raised brow, and you shrugged in response. It took a moment for you to find anything to actually say. “You ever kissed someone, Gris?” You asked, rather than actually addressing your change in attention, and Gris could only scoff. He was familiar with your fleeting whimsies by now.

“Couple times.” He replied, to which you nodded, going back to just studying him for a moment. “Were they good?” You then asked, and he rolled his eyes. “You’ve been spendin’ too much time with Amo askin’ things like that,” he said, voice gruff, but you knew he’d entertain you because he always did, “a mix. Some of them were alright, some of them weren’t worth remembering.” “What? So you’ve never had a really really good kiss? Like tell everyone about it because it was that good?” “Have you?” He asked, rather than responding. “Nah. Not kissed all that many people since becoming a Cleaner, and I was too young before that to be kissing anyone that actually knew what they were doing.” “Have you kissed any of the Cleaners?” Gris asked, a new curiosity dawning on him, along with something else clouding his eyes that you couldn’t quite identify. “Ew, no. Other than like.. that one time I kissed Zanka’s cheek and made him short circuit.” You said with a laugh, and Gris’ tension faded away like it’d never been there before, replaced by humour at the memory. You’d once kissed Zanka’s cheek after being dared by Enjin when the kid got back from a mission, and he’d been unable to respond for a full five minutes after. It was sweet, but it certainly didn’t count as a real kiss.

“Y’know maybe we should kiss. Just to test it.” You casually suggested after a few comfortable, quiet moments passed between you. Gris’ eyes snapped back to your face, looking at you intently for a moment as he considered the intentions behind your words. “To test it?” He questioned, looking generally unimpressed by that sentiment. “What? Friends kiss each other all the time.” Came your response, sitting up a little and shuffling so you were sat on your own heels. “That right?” Gris replied, clearly unconvinced. “Oh c’mon Gris. It’d be fun. Besides, if you don’t like it after the first one then we can just stop, no big deal.” You justified, feeling the beating of your heart increase in pace steadily, until it was racing in your chest, thundering against your ribs relentlessly. Sure, maybe you’d had a thing for Gris for a while and maybe this was playing with fire a little bit but you’d never been known for being sensible.

Gris regarded you for a long moment, searching your face for whatever must’ve started this train of thought, but he was utterly stumped. You’d always been affectionate with him but you hadn’t ever expressed an interest in being more than friends. Right?

“One kiss.” He conceded, mostly to see the way your face split with a grin that made his own heart flutter. There was no better view to him than your face when you were happy. You bounced slightly in place, excitement flooding you quickly, and then leaned in with one hand braced on Gris’ chest and the other over his shoulder to kiss him slowly.

While it was technically one kiss, because your lips never parted, it was far beyond what either of you had been expecting. A small peck was roughly what you’d both been anticipating, but once your lips met it was like neither of you could find the strength to pull away. Your arm draped over his shoulder shifted to wrap around the back of his neck while his arms laying beside him rose to grip your hips and waist gently, keeping you in place as your lips moved together in sync.

When you parted, both of you were panting softly, with a soft blush high on Gris’ cheeks. You laughed softly, unable to hide the pleased grin on your face, while the man in front of you seemed dazed. “You sure you only want one, big guy?” You couldn’t help teasing, eager to get back in there for another. Gris didn’t say anything for a long moment, eyes closed with his head tilted back as he just breathed. Like he was trying to compose himself. “You’re playing with fire here, darlin. Keep it up, and I’ll show you just how much I’ve been wanting this.” Were the words that came next. You’d never been more surprised by something Gris had said. His words sent a jolt through you, heart thundering so loudly in your chest that you weren’t sure you’d be able to hear him if he spoke again. His voice came out rough and slightly strained, like the force of holding himself back made everything about him tense. You wanted to help him relax. “Maybe I wanna see that.”

And that was all it took. Gris was on you in an instant, his tongue parting your lips without mercy. His hands around your waist tightened to keep you close, exploring your mouth without mercy or concern for the need for oxygen. You couldn’t say you were complaining though, certainly not. This was more than you’d ever dared to hope for with your silly questions. You tangled your fingers in Gris’ light hair, lightly tugging on it when he unexpectedly nipped your lip, which made him groan. You parted then, pupils blown wide, and pressed your foreheads together. “God damn, Gris.” You muttered, making the both of you laugh. “So, would you call that a really good kiss?” He questioned, a small smug smile tugging at his lips. You liked that look on him, you decided in that moment. “You’ll have to show me again so I can be sure.”

Tag list: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable @hyperfixationthingss @queenmimi2817 @fanaticsnail @villainousace

If you'd like to tip me you can head over to my Kofi

[hckzee]

I was wondering if you could do a Corvus x reader, it could be like your Gris x reader one, like the type of boyfriend/husband he’ll be? Please and Thank you! :)

— CORVUS ARKHA HUSBAND HEADCANONS

He has his wedding ring safely around his neck, hidden just below his tank top

Isn't loud about his relationship with you, but pieces of your presence is scattered in his office—a framed photo of you two, the rug you decorated, a fake flower by the corner of the room

"Um... who's that person?" "They're my spouse." "You're married?!"

His presence itself is grounding, and he knows it. Whenever you are stressed, he'd quietly sit beside you, a hand resting softly over yours offering silent warmth before you're ready to talk

His love language is acts of service! He does little things without being asked like: warming your hand in his, draping his coat over you whenever you're cold, and bringing you water or snacks before you could ask for them

"You look tired, love. Sit. I'll handle the rest of the chores."

He's a man of few words, but when he does speak, it's meaningful. Doesn't want to waste any time with useless chatter, everything he says is reassuring and to the point

"Don't worry about being silent. Take all the time you need to understand your own emotions. I'll always be here ready to listen, alright?" "Thank you, dear."

He always position himself slightly behind you without thinking. Always assessing your surroundings and making sure that no harm will come upon you

He only allows himself to be vulnerable with you. Gentle eyes, softened tone, and small smiles. You're the only one who could see that part of himself

"You look so cute when you smile like that, dear." "You're the only one who can make me smile like this, love."

Your touch relaxes him. He'd feel his shoulders sag when you massaged it, or if you plant a chaste kiss on his cheeks, he'd feel his entire body release tension

Finds it endearing whenever you chastises him about the amount of time he works. You're really not that bothered that he's away for a long time, just that he sometimes neglect his health in favour of paperwork

"I swear! If Semiu didn't notify me that you haven't eaten anything, I bet you'd go home with a growling stomach again!" "Is it that bad to want to eat my wife's cooking?" "Yes, when you're starving yourself dead."

Surprisingly romantic in subtle ways. If he sees you eyeing something, he'd buy it and gift it to you that same night. Leaves heartfelt notes when he had to go to work earlier than you

"I'll be in the headquarters until nighttime. Don't worry, though, I'll make it back home to dinner. I love you."

Loves kissing the top of your head before going to bed. Definitely a husband who'd have an arm wrapped around you, pulling you close to his chest as he welcomes sleep

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

lowkey had a hard time with mr. mysterious here. i hope you like it!

[revelutionize]

Not requested

Pairing(s): Enjin, Gender-Neutral Reader x Gris

Content(s): One-sided love, angst/comfort, no poly, suggestive talk, jealousy.

It was no secret to any of the cleaners that you had a thing for Enjin, the two of you had history, history rooted so deep in your bones that it felt like a connection, one that you couldn't bear to let go of. You and Enjin had spent countless nights in one another's beds, cuddling, fucking, it didn't matter as long as you both were there. The way he held you felt like security, the way he eased you to your peaks rattled your bones, heart stuttering in your chest every time. It felt right being with him, it felt real.

Enjin can't do real.

You knew that, practically everyone did. The moment that something between you both felt too raw, too vulnerable, he'd pull away. Enjin knew he had this problem, he knew that commitment wasn't his strong suit, that he wasn't good at the long game. The pillow talk always reminded you of it, you'd be too close, too comfortable, you'd fit too perfectly in his arms, too perfectly on the other side of his bed. He couldn't do it. Couldn't handle it. It was a never ending game that always tettered on the edge of something that could've been.

“Hey... I have a job soon” He'd breathe out, one hand with a cigarette between his tatted fingers, and his other carefully wrapped around your shoulders. “You always have a job” You'd whisper back against his skin, tired yet still aware. Your gaze flicked up, looking up at him through your lashes. Enjin had that look on his face, an expression torn between contemplation and something else you couldn't quite understand. His hand paused, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he slowly sat up, “Yeah, but this one will keep me for a while, can you handle that?”

You knew he was poking at you, a serious discussion laced in humor to ease the situation. It made your stomach turn, “I know what that means” You'd sigh, tone tinged in irritation while rubbing the back of your neck as you slowly sat up. There was a moment of quiet, the implications hanging in the air. He had this habit of using work to create distance between the two of you, typically taking ones that would keep him away days or weeks at a time. “Are you always going to run?” You'd ask, brows pinching together as you looked at him. His nose scrunched up, taking another drag from his cigarette, “Y'know I don't do complicated” He said, pulling the thin cover off himself to start grabbing his clothes.

“Whatever— go on and run then” Your tone would leave a bitter feeling in Enjin's chest, but he'd force himself to keep getting dressed, to keep going with his choice. It was when his hand touched your door knob that you spoke again, “I won't always be here waiting for you, Enjin” You said, tone dripping with exhaustion from this game you two constantly played. He'd pause, grip tightening on the handle because he knew you were right, he knew what you wanted, and how his own shortcomings were getting in the way, “I'll see you then” Enjin stated before finally walking out your door.

It was one of those rare occasions where Gris and you got paired up for a mission. Him, Tomme and you for some small job outside of the city. Semiu thought it would be good for more team interaction, realistically however, she knew that after Enjin's departure with his team you were hurting again. She knew you needed something to fill the small void he always left you with, so she decided to play a bit of matchmaking.

Unbeknownst to you, Gris had always had his eye on you. He wasn't stupid, he knew about you and Enjin's current situation of on and off. Gris always stood by your side when you needed someone, more likely than not, he was your confidant. He admired your strength, he admired how you kept pushing despite the hell of the ground, how you always kept smiling, how you always found a way to brighten up the room even after the darkest of times. Gris absolutely adored you, he thought it was obvious in the way he'd hold you as you cried.

Obvious in the way he'd whisper soft reassurances in your ear, how he'd massage your scalp or always keep an eye out on the things you liked. Gris would watch you from the sidelines, watch how you and Enjin would talk, how you'd get close, and how he'd back off. It was torture in the most hurtful way, watching the one person he loved yearn for another man that couldn't be bothered to give you what you want, what you need, what you deserve. He knew Enjin wasn't a bad guy, hell, he trusts the man with his life, but every time he catches you crying over him, Gris can't help but feel that painful ache in his chest.

Gris couldn't wrap his head around it. How could Enjin just leave you hanging all the time? How could he look at you, be with you, and not want to try for something better. Gris let out a heavy sigh as he sat in the locker room, praying on his new talisman that you had bought for him. He carefully pushed his hair back before pulling on his hat. He's a supporter, he can't be getting lost in his head while you work, he needs to be present.

The mission was simple, he and Tomme help you take down some low level trash beasts. That was their job, to support you during your fight, and that's exactly what they did.

~

“I bet you a piece of candy that I can handle this job in ten minutes” Your words snapped him out of his thoughts, his gaze shifting back to you, feeling his heart stutter at your easy smile. Tomme gave him a knowing look, but he ignored it, “You really want to bet on this?” Gris asked with a heavy breath, but you knew better, you could see the twitch in his lips, the way he fought back a small smile.

“Absolutely— how else am I supposed to enjoy it?” the smile you wore brought out his own, shaking his head in slight exasperation, “Just don't get yourself killed okay?” He said, blue eyes lingering a little longer on your form before quickly averting his gaze. You didn't notice it, but Tomme did, she always did, smiling behind her clipboard as she tried not to laugh at Gris’ predicament.

“Deal!” You cheered, laughing as you bound forward, eager to get the job done.

I'm so screwed, was all Gris could think of as he watched you with adoration and something else he didn't quite want to name. At that moment, Gris decided he wanted to throw his hand in the ring, to protect that smile you wore the best he could, even if that meant competing against Enjin for a place in your heart.

~

Gris used Enjin's absence wisely, he had two weeks to try and catch your eye. Two weeks wasn't very long, but he had to make due with what he could. With Semiu's help, Gris was able to accompany you on all your missions while Enjin was away. Gris would be at your side, the two of you practically glued at the hip whenever you traveled. The other supporters were Gris’ biggest cheerleaders, always intentionally walking at a slight distance, or telling him when you were alone.

The first week was easy, he'd help you in the training room, often working out together if a mission wasn't calling you away. The first time you walked in with your work out attire on, Gris could've sworn you stole the air from his lungs. Your head tilted, giving him that easy smile you always wore as you looked at him, “You ready? We gotta lock in” You grinned, teeth flashing as you set down on the bench, “I've been slacking lately.”

He swallowed thickly before nodding, he was so fucked.

You both went back and forth spotting each other, being careful with the weights. “Easy now” Gris whispered softly against your ear, hand out carefully as you pulled the bar down, his chest just barely a few inches from your back. He was watching you with careful eyes, steady and confident behind you. It made something in your stir, but you didn't dwell on it, Gris was just doing his job, just being a good friend as always. “I'm not fragile, y'know” You quipped back, tone slightly teasing as you continued with your set.

“Oh I know” Gris laughed softly, the sound coming from deep in his chest, “Doesn't mean I won't worry.”

Your head tipped back, barely resting against his shoulder as you looked up at him. Gris immediately froze, his heart thudding in his chest as he felt your warmth against him. You smelled faintly of sweets and sweat, he desperately had to resist the urge to bury his face in your neck, to pull you into his arms and hold you tight.

“Maybe I want you too” You whispered sweetly.

Fuck you had no idea what you did to him.

~

The second week was smoother, you both had fallen into a routine, something gentle and easy. You opened up to him more than you already had, you both split a snack after your morning work outs, both going into town to look through the shops or get something to eat. It wasn't a date, Gris always had to remind himself of that, always had to pray on his talisman hoping things would go smoothly. You two were already close before, but something shifted a little. Something small that might impact everything, and Gris was hoping it was for the best.

It started when you noticed something different with Gris, something more. The way he looked at you felt differently from how Enjin looked at you. Enjin looked at you with familiarity, with a deep-sated hunger that occasionally lingered in his golden eyes. It's because he had you, he tasted you, he has felt you through and through. Gris however? Gris looked at you with something close to worship, with reverence. He touched you as if you were precious, but not fragile, like he wanted to keep you safe while knowing you could handle yourself.

“Why do you look at me like that?" You'd ask one day, noticing how he kept glancing at you. You were both lounging around, a rare free day to spend inside rather than working. He blinked, confused before meeting your gaze, “Like what?”

“Like you see something I don't” You quipped back softly.

He hesitated with his answer, blue eyes gazing away momentarily. He didn't know how to respond, didn't know what to say without giving everything away, “Maybe... Because I do.”

“What do you see?” You asked.

“Everything that matters” His response was quick, almost too quick. He felt a jolt in his pulse, jaw clicking as he pressed his lips together, gauging your reaction. You smiled, slow and easy, head tilting as your eyes crinkled at the edges, “That's so sappy” You uttered out, but it was full of fondness, of a warmth that you never got to feel before Enjin. That thought was scary, the very idea of anyone else making you feel the warmth Enjin made you feel was both scary... and relieving.

You looked at Gris in that moment, really looked at him.

You had always relied on him in many ways, he was always there for you no matter how big or small the problem seemed, and he always respected you. Now, it's not that Enjin would just discard you or not be there for you, because he was, Enjin had also been there for you, but not when it counted, not when it started getting too real for him, to vulnerable.

The way Gris treated you was everything you had ever hoped for from Enjin, why didn't you see that sooner? why were the pieces only coming together a few days before Enjin's return? You had to swallow those thoughts down, had to free yourself from them before they consumed you.

The two weeks ended quicker than you or Gris hoped. Enjin had returned, and that meant going back to your game of tug of war, but when he walked in, his arms wrapping around your midsection, it didn't feel the same way it used to. Your heart didn't stutter, heat didn't crawl up your spine, and the usual surge you felt beneath his touch wasn't the same.

Maybe it was because you finally realized that no matter how hard you tried, Enjin couldn't change, not now, and not yet. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, that made your stomach churn, “We need to talk” You said, carefully untangling yourself from Enjin's grasp, turning to meet his gaze. “Alright... Talk to me” He said, his brow quirked up in apprehension.

Your thoughts had halted, hands clenching and unclenching. Your throat felt dry. You spent so long pinning over this man, wasting countless nights and tears over him, wasting away with thoughts of false hope. We're you really about to let go? To finally let yourself breathe?

You thought back to Gris. Thought back to how he looked at you, how honest he had been with you, how he treated you. In that moment you knew that even if nothing came of it, you had to let this game go, even if it hurt, even if it felt like a betrayal to Enjin and yourself. “Listen— This” You motioned between the two of you, “Whatever this is, it ends now.”

Enjin was floored, it was honestly the last thing he expected to hear from you upon his return. He knew this game wouldn't last forever, he knew eventually you'd be smart enough to stop forgiving him, to stop waiting for him. The one thing he wasn't prepared for was how much it hurt, but he had no right, he knew he had no right, “Shit— fuck, alright, you serious?” he asked, hand running through his hair.

“Yeah, fuck En— we both knew this wasn't going to work, and I... I want to find a guy that'll handle the messy parts, a guy that'll do complicated with me” You said, tone tinged in slight exhaustion and desperation. Part of you hoped he'd finally see you, that he'd finally come to his senses and give this a chance, but the look in his eyes said otherwise, crushing the rest of the hope you had left.

“You deserve a man that'll actually give you what you want, [Y/n]” Enjin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze shifted momentarily. Something in his heart ached, knowing this meant no more late nights with you, no more waking up to your snoring, no more casual touches. His own shortcomings were finally coming to bite him in the ass, and he hated it now more than ever.

“Yeah... friends?” You asked quietly.

“Friends” He said softly.

~

The news spread like wildfire across HQ, Tomme and Follo being the quickest to jump and rush to Gris, needing to inform him. “It happened!" The pair yelled at the same time as they burst into the small training room, nearly scarring Gris half to death. “What are you talking about?” He asked, grabbing his towel to wrap it around his neck wiping away the sweat on his skin, “[Y/n] and Enjin! They're not screwing anymore!” Follo beamed out shamelessly as Gris nearly choked on his drink.

Gris’ heart stuttered in his chest, does this mean he'll finally get his chance? No— he can't think about that yet. He knew how much Enjin meant to you, he can't just swoop in the moment you're free. He couldn't deny the warm flutter in his chest, however. Wondering if those two weeks together paid off in helping you, he could feel the smile forcing itself onto his face as he thought about you.

Gris’ didn't have to wait long. It was that same night that you came knocking on his door, gentle and quiet, “Hey— Can I come in?” You asked, standing before him in loose pajamas, fidgeting with your fingers, a nervous tell he kept mentally catalogued, “Yeah— absolutely.”

You were in his room.

You were in his room, he almost felt light headed, seeing you amongst his things. You looked so perfect, the moonlight casting soft shadows over your figure as you sat down on the edge of his bed. He didn't hesitate to join you, sitting beside you, your shoulders just barely an inch from touching. His skin felt as if it were on fire. “I'm assuming you heard?” You asked, gaze still anywhere but him, and for a moment he had to think, remembering what Tomme and Follo had told him that morning, “Yeah, you doing okay?”

He watched as you shrugged your shoulders, “It was bound to end, but... That's not why I'm here” You said carefully, finally looking up to meet his gaze.

Gris swallowed thickly, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together, “Then... Why are you here?” He asked slowly, hope and anxiety bubbling beneath the surface.

You sighed softly, eyes closing briefly before looking at him again, bringing your feet up onto his bed to cross your legs, “I... I don't know if I'm ready for a relationship yet. Gotta figure my shit out, y'know?” You said carefully, “Just got myself out of a mess, and I don't want to drag you into it, but... I want to know you better.”

His jaw ticked, clenched together so hard he didn't even realize it as he stared at you with wide eyes, hopeful and relieved. “It don't gotta be a date—” You said quickly, hands out in expression as you tried to talk through your own anxiety, “I just— you're an amazing guy, Gris, and I wanna see more of you.”

Shit, he felt as if he were on cloud nine right now.

You were sitting there, looking so pretty against the soft light and his belongings, he had to resist the urge to kiss you, to grab your face and forget everything else. “I'd like that—” He finally choked out, taking a shaky breath as he kept looking at you, “I’d like that a lot. We should... see how this goes” He whispered, his voice getting quieter with every word, but he knew you were listening, and knew that you were paying attention by the sight of your soft, easy smile.

“Fuck— yeah, okay cool” You smiled warmly, “Maybe I can... Crash with you tonight? I don't sleep well alone” You whispered softly.

And Gris didn't hesitate to let you.

The two of you carefully curled up into his small bed, the thin blanket covering the both of you as you tucked yourself against him, your head beneath his chin, his arms wrapped protectively around you.

Fuck, you fit so perfectly in his arms. He took the moment to breathe you in, to enjoy your warmth and feel you there, just have you present.

And he knew this is exactly where he was meant to be.

[dollysveil]

What if I ask Tomme for a kiss?

୨୧ asking tomme for a kiss

♡ featuring tomme mima

She’s sitting on the floor, knees tucked under her chest. You kneel beside her, close enough that your shoulder brushes hers.

“Tomme…?”

She startles a little, blinking up at you with those wide, earnest eyes. “Ah— sorry, I didn’t hear you. Did you need something ?” Her voice is careful, sweet, the kind of softness that always tries to put you at ease even when she’s the one trembling inside.

You hesitate, fingers twisting lightly in your sleeves, before whispering:

“…Can I have a kiss ?”

For a moment she freezes — you can see the exact second her breath catches. Her eyes widen, not in fear but in this tender, overwhelmed surprise, as if you just handed her something precious without warning.

“M–me ?” she breathes, cheeks blooming pink. “You… you’re sure ?”

You nod, small and shy.

And she melts.

Tomme gets up and cups your cheeks so gently, as if you’re something fragile she’s terrified of hurting. Her thumbs stroke your skin, warm and trembling.

Then she leans in, slow and careful, like she’s asking permission with every millimeter.

The kiss is soft.

So soft it almost breaks your heart.

It’s warm, emotional, filled with a tenderness she never says out loud. She lingers, breathing you in, steadying herself on you.

When she pulls back, her forehead rests against yours, her lashes fluttering.

“…Thank you,” she whispers, voice shakier than she wants it to be. “I… I’m so glad to have you.”

© dollysveil ♡

[kamislop]

In honor of this getting animated...

18+, MDNI!!!

Gris Rubion is a gentle lover. Especially when his girlfriend is usually so shy and reserved, he's more than happy with just going at your pace and tend to your needs as best as he can. Until one night you have a drink too many during a party at Cleaners HQ and he's face to face with a totally different side of you— bolder, definitely hornier, whispering softly in his ear "please, don't hold back."

And suddenly you're face down, ass up, Gris' hips colliding into yours with a speed and vigor you had never seen from him, though perfectly fitting for his build. One of his large hands is splayed over the small of your back for leverage, while his other is wrapped firmly around the headboard. The chatter from the common room is enough to cover the sound of the bed creaking under the sheer force of his thrusts, and he allows himself to be louder than usual.

You, on the other hand, are losing your mind. Drool drips from the corner of your mouth and onto the pillow your face is shoved in, no articulate sound coming from you apart from the slurred cry of his name in-between harsh slaps of skin against skin. "Nghh— mhf!" are the sounds he mostly hears, along with loud, whorish moans he wasn't aware you could produce whenever his cock would hit that soft little spot inside of you.

"I - hah - never thought you liked it this - fuck! - this rough, b-baby..." Gris breathes out, his chest and carved abs slick with a sheen of sweat. It was his first time going all-out on you, after all. "But you take it so. Fucking. Good." Each final word was punctuated with a sharp thrust, followed by the sweetest whimpers falling from your lips.

So what if he ends up cracking the headboard from gripping it too hard? It was just a small accident! Of course, he'd rather get devoured by a trash beast than explain it to Semiu or accidentally being heard by Enjin, but it's definitely worth seeing your blissed, fucked out expression, flushed with afterglow, and full of his cum. It's just a matter of learning to manage his strength with you!

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[hinsh0-deactivated20260308]

your heart tugged beside my own

Gris Rubion

The cold winter night of North Ward greeted your warm figure as you stepped out of your house. It had been hours of you bundled up beneath multiple blankets, a few candles on your table and thoughts a mess.

Pulling your scarf up to cover the lower half of your face, your gaze wandered along the empty snowy streets. Snow that was not to be touched by skin, since it had toxins too dangerous for normal human beings.

Or so you thought, empty the streets had not been.

There across the street was a tall figure.

A figure who had been outside collecting dust and snow upon his shoulders and hat for a minute. The tips of his blonde hair slightly wet. His gaze focused on his feet, watching his own boots slowly drowning in the snow.

Sighing into your scarf you stopped in your tracks. You took a moment to yourself, to just be. To feel the cold air against your cheekbones. Smell the sweet scent of your self made parfum on your scarf. Feel your bare fingers scratch along the inside of your winter jacket pockets. To gaze at the man your heart ached for.

"Rubion" at his last name he perked up. Blue eyes locked upon your figure, drinking you in like a dying man. Like a man knowing he might not see you ever again. A man that wanted – no needed you in his life, but couldn't have.

"Wanted to say goodbye. You weren't at the usual" his voice was warm and sweet — god, it made you weak in your knees. Your fingers slowly curled into a fist, nails digging into soft skin to fight back the urge to throw yourself into his arms and beg him to stay – or take you with him.

"You sh—" you stopped yourself midsentence as the crunching of the snow, beneath his feet, grew louder and closer. Your heart skipped a beat – something you didn't even know your heart could do.

Since when had he become so important? Since when had you lost your heart? Since when had he picked it up and kept it to himself?

Gris had never been a selfish man. Far from it. He was the kindest man known to you. He owned a strong body, a beautiful soul and a kind heart. It was second nature to put everyones needs above his own. To put everyones life's and safety above his own. And yet, for the very first time Gris decided to do something just for himself, knowing the wait might hurt. Knowing it might be unfair to you — and yet he still stole your heart and tugged it right beside his own.

His light blue eyes studied your features closely, fingers twitching at his sides to touch you. He fought only for a second against the urge, before he was raising his big hands to cup both sides of your face, gently guiding you closer to himself. "I will come back" his voice was softer, almost a whisper only meant for the night to witness. "Just wait for me a little longer. Till it's safer"

[ivrsenia]

I need him in my life it’s not even that funny 😭

[ivrsenia]

"Good Luck Kisses" ⤷ Gris tries to give you a goodbye kiss before his mission but you love to tease him.

The bathroom door clicked open, letting out a faint curl of steam just as you were beginning to surface from sleep. Gris stepped out quietly, already wearing his uniform, the buckles fastened perfectly, hat tucked under one arm. His hair was still damp, dripping a bead of water down his neck before he wiped it away with a small huff.

He spotted you peeking at him through half-awake eyes.

"There you are," he smiled, voice soft enough to coax butterflies out of someone's ribs. "Good morning, sweetheart. We are about to head out soon... I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye." His gloved hand skimmed over your blanket before finding your fingers, warm from sleep. Gris squeezed lightly—as he is being mindful of his strength—like he was grounding himself. He always did that before mission, as though touching you steadied the world.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, blinking at him. Too early. But... He looks good in that uniform. You bit your lip, amused by how he keeps glancing at the door like it is dragging him away by the collar.

He leaned in, slowly yet quickly, his intent obvious.

A kiss. A gentle, goodbye sort of kiss.

Which made it too tempting.

Right as his mouth neared yours, you turned your head—casual, innocent, perfectly timed—so his lips met the corner of your mouth instead.

Gris froze. His breath fanned over your skin before he jerked back slightly. His brows knit together.

You held back a snort, not wanting to show your intent yet. His confusion was delicious.

He tried again, determined and more focused.

You turned the other way.

His lips landed on your cheekbone— barely.

He leaned back and stared at you.

And you stared back.

Silence... And then, slowly, one brow raised.

"Really?" His tone dipped lower. "That's how we're doing things this morning?"

You grew a smug grin. Mischief filled your chest like fizz in a soda bottle. Gris sighed through his nose, but the corners of his lips betrayed a smile. He set down his hat, rolled up his sleeves, and leaned closer—close enough for the scent of mint and soap to swallow you whole.

"Sweetheart," he said, voiced dipped in a gentle warning, "I need a kiss from you. Now. Please, don't make me chase it."

Giggling, you looped your arms around his neck, and finally, pulled him down for a real kiss—slow, warm, soft enough to make him melt right into you. He exhaled against your lips, something like relief loosening his shoulders.

But the moment he tried to pull away, ready to leave—

You hooked your legs out of the blanket, moving your arm to his waist, and shoved.

He did not expect it, especially when the bed catches him.

Gris landed with a startled grunt, the mattress dipping as you swung a leg over him and straddled his hips before he could even push himself up.

His hand flew to your waist with instinct, eyes widening, pupils blown just slightly as he stared up at you.

You were still half-awake, hair mussed from sleep in the softest, most tempting disarray—strands falling over your face, others sticking out at odd angles that somehow made you look even more irresistible. A sleepy warmth clung to your skin, the kind that only came from being pulled out of bed too early.

Your tank top hung a little loose on you, slipping off one shoulder enough to tease the curve of it, and your pajama shorts—already short—had ridden up just a little more when you climbed onto him, leaving your legs bare and warm against his sides.

Your eyes, still heavy-lidded with lingering drowsiness, gave you a dreamy, slow-blinking look that nearly knocked the breath out of him. And the faint flush on your cheeks, whether from sleep or the position you had him in, made you look far sweeter than your mischievous smirk suggested.

Gris forgot how to breathe for a moment.

"...You're dangerous," he whispered.

You giggled, lowering yourself until your nose almost brushed. "And you like it."

He barely had time to answer. Your mouth was already his—more urgent than the first kiss, more claiming, hungrier. Gris responded instantly, desperately, one hand sliding under your tank top, the other gripping your thigh like he was afraid you would vanish.

The kiss deepened. Soft nips. Warm breaths. A deep sound from his throat that he did not mean to slip.

You felt him smile into the kiss, just before he broke away for air.

"You know, you're making it very hard to leave," he murmured, forehead pressed against yours.

"That's the point."

He laughed quietly, breathless, fond. His thumb brushed your jaw as he stole one more kiss, slower this time, savoring it like he was memorizing the shape of your lips.

Eventually, and reluctantly, he rose, guiding you gently off him so he could stand. His uniform was rumpled, his collar crooked, his hair wildly out of place.

You hopped up before he could fix it himself.

"I got it," you told him, smoothing out the fabric, straightening the buckle on his strap, brushing a few rebellious strands of hair back to where they should be.

Gris watched you the whole time, smiled lopsided in that way that meant you had ruined him for the day—but in the best way.

When you finished, you reached over to his hat and put it on his head before tugging him down by the collar and kissed him one more time. Light. Sweet. But deliberate.

"For luck," you whispered.

He touched your cheek, thumb brushing one last affectionate stroke.

"For luck," he echoed.

He left the room with a soft smile that stretched into something dazing.

And when Follo found him still standing in the hallway a few minutes later, staring absently at the door.

Follo snapped his fingers. "Uh... Gris? We're leaving."

Gris blinked once.

Then twice.

"...Right," he said, clearing his throat. "Right. I’m coming."

But the flush on his ears did not fade for a long while.

May I please have a cup of coffee?

[owlespresso]

sunspot, meteor x reader tags: just vibes , takes place after Endwalker

Your breath fogs in the predawn air. The rolling hills of Yanxia stretch out all around you, dew wet on the grass. There’s something otherworldly about that time which floats between night and morning, before the sun has yet to peer above the jutting peaks and windswept plains.

A grouping of grey clouds adumbrated the paling skies, covers the pinks and yellows and oranges that the sun shepherds from the horizon each morning.

“You should be asleep,” Meteor murmurs into the crook of your neck. His bare hands come to rest on your hips, thumbs slipping underneath the hem of your grey pajama shirt. You lean back, savoring the slight give of his muscle, the heat of him through his loose jinbei. 

“I wanted to see the sunrise on our first morning here,” you murmur. The caliginous conditions which have welcomed you are hardly a fitting welcome for the so-called heroes of the star, but you have no one to take that up with. 

“There’s always tomorrow,” Meteor hums, pressing his lips to the side of your neck.

“I know, but it doesn’t feel as special.” you huff. It’s childish, but you feel like you have the right to be after saving the goddamn Star from certain doom. The weather itself should bend to your whims out of sheer gratefulness, you think. As if detecting your indignance, the winds suddenly pick up, sending a shiver down your spine. You wrap your arms around yourself, turning to huddle up against your ever fastidious friend.

“Friend” is a peculiar word for what exists between you. That spark of intimacy, of raw want, has been there since the days of Ala Mhigo’s liberation. There’s hardly ever been a time to sit down and figure out a label. Not when the entire realm is constantly in need of heroes. It’s been a strange cycle. 

Fate would place you both in the same place. You would again feel the bond between you swell. But, before you could sit down and decide on a label, some realm-shattering event would occur. Sending two powerhouses to the same location would be a waste, thus you would trudge to opposite sides of the globe to solve the problems of strangers. 

By the time you finished saving who needed to be saved or killing who needed to be killed, you would both be too exhausted to stew on it. You’d fall into bed together. Not necessarily for pleasures of the flesh, but for the sake of melding together, of closing the space between your bodies for the first time in perhaps months. For the sake of listening to the aether thrum between you both, bright and warm as a patch of sunlight.

“It doesn’t have to be special,” Meteor says, “I’m just happy to spend time with you, again. Just the two of us.”

“Ugh,” you scoff playfully. “Don’t start getting all sweet on me.” 

“Come inside,” Meteor says, not indulging you with a response. You can get away with being a little bratty when he’s mired in half-sleep. He’s too sleepy, too rustled by the high winds to do anything other than cling onto your back. His broad hands come to rest on your hips. He squeezes what he finds there, and you feel safe, cradled between his palms and the welcoming warmth of his body. “We can watch the sunrise tomorrow. I’ll even stay up with you.”  

He makes to separate from you, to reel backwards into the safe haven of your cabin. You hastily follow, grabbing his hand and sticking close to his side, unwilling to forgo even a moment spent soaking up his warmth.

They call him Meteor, but to you, he is your spot of sun.

[ivrsenia]

König: I don't know how to tell you this, but... I love you.

(Y/n), smiling: That's great, König. Especially considering the fact we've been married for 6 years.

[ivrsenia]

Hello! Just wanted to say that I love your work and wish you a good day xx

~🐸

Aksjskajssj This has been in my inbox for years and I feel bad for not replying. Thank you so much, I’m glad you enjoyed it! I wish you a good day as well <3

[ivrsenia]

Your bio has made my brain into jelly 😃

𓁹‿𓁹

[kovir]

FINAL FANTASY XVI (2023) dev. Square Enix

[ivrsenia]

The tension they have during this scene 👀🤭

[lovehotelreservation]

Throw Your Weight Around And Behind Me - Let's Rip It All to Confetti

Summary: With lands as grand and vast as Valisthea’s, it was understandable to feel alone.

Yet as long as the presence of that man was close by, you would never have to bear the burden of loneliness. 

[Contains plot spoilers for Final Fantasy XVI] 

Rating: R

Pairing: F!Reader/Joshua

[Previous Piece - Cidolfus]

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