Hello!! I've been following for awhile now—well maybe a few years to be exact? I started reading you on wattpad and I was curious if you would ever continue the last chapter for "beyond professionalism" with zhongli and the diluc one too. Also wanted to say I like your writing style so muchhh, im now figuring out your busy writing a book? !!
Hello! I'm so honored you've been following me so long. It always warms my heart when people say such kind things. I take deep pride in my writing, and I'm overjoyed to hear that you enjoy what I create!
In the future I possibly hope to continue those, but I actually wrote those when I was 18-19 (I'm 23 now, almost 24), so my writing style has grown. If I'd ever continue those, I'd like to give them a revamp to match my current level. Something for me to think about, I suppose.
Yes, I am writing a book! I'm about seven chapters in with a little over 40k words thus far. It's on pause at the moment, as I am applying to graduate programs to get my MFA or MA in creative writing, but in the coming months, after that dust begins to settle, there will be much more progress made on it, and I might even attempt to write fanfiction if the fancy strikes. I actually already got into a few programs; I'm just waiting for more offers to be made to me so I can make a more informed decision about where I want to go.
If anyone has more questions about the book or my grad school applications (I am, in fact, dying inside), feel free to drop an ask, I love to chat with y'all.
Happy to hear that you're writing a book now that I'm looking forward to! Can't help but wonder if this mean we won't be getting any more fics or if friendly fire will be completed?
Oh, I would never say that. I'm devoting most of my creative energy to my novel, but fanfic writing will have to be pried from my cold, dead hands. Even if I publish a novel, there's absolutely no reason why I would ever abandon my fanfic accounts. I have far too much fun writing fanfiction to give it up, haha. Let's just call this a break while I work on Frost of Ruin, but likely not a complete break, I'll probably still publish new fics while I work on this. I'm far too ADHD to work on one thing at a time.
I'll still be here, don't you worry. I also have NO idea why I've been stuck on Friendly Fire for so long. It WILL be finished eventually.
I knew you’d like Varka lol. Can you talk more about the book you’re working on? I’d be interested in reading literally anything you write
I absolutely love how I saw this ask last night, answered it in my head, but didn’t actually type anything. Sorry about that, my brain has been going between semi-solid states and also into complete alphabet soup. This might get rambly, so I’ll put a cut.
The novel is a romantasy about a Fae named Cressida who was raised by two human herbalists in a human settled city-state high in the mountains. She’s not super interested in her roots, but that all changes after a series of events that begins when she finds a horribly injured young girl in the woods during an herb gathering trip. She does the best she can as an apprentice herbalist, patches up the girl, and brings her back into the city for treatment.
Then, what attacked the girl, Rose, attacks the city. It’s a dragon. Which is shocking because dragons were supposed to be extinct. They’re not, the fae king who claimed to have slain the last dragon was a big fat liar. Cressida gets cornered and manages to somehow fend off the dragon with magic she didn’t even realize she had (since she was never trained to use it) and after some further angst, she gets taken into the mines beneath the city to escape by a fae named Raniya, thinking her family to be dead. We come to find out that the lying fae king who claimed to slay the dragon, has a son, who is named Rusithe, and he took a lot of issue with that lie, mostly because around six months ago, dragons started attacking, and a lot of people started dying. So now Cressida has to figure out how to use her magic to help and also how to fight the growing feelings she’s developing for the wisecracking runaway prince.
Also, so it doesn’t sound like a major plothole, there’s a reason why cress’s city wasn’t warned about the dragons. I just wanted to make that clear without spoiling it too much.
I don’t know if I explained that very well, my brain is very much in the alphabet soup state right now. But, I will yap about this way more if asked, please lmk.
hello. I am not dead. I hope to write more soon, but all my energy has been going into the book I'm working on, which is where I have been. If anyone wants to know more about that, let me know and I'll yap about it, I could certainly use a pair of fresh eyes anyway, haha.
Anyway, Vraka has me in a chokehold, and I'm trying to figure out what to write for him, so possibly stay tuned for that.
Hi I love your writing and I was hopping you could do a story from Shisui Uchiha who is from Naruto ?
Maybe the oc was also his good friend like Itachi and after coming back from a 2 year mission after the coup was stopped, they started to have more tension around each other and at a festival it all goes down
I have not watched a lot of Naruto so unfortunately I am not the writer for you. Best of luck finding one though!
hello hi im still very obsessed with your wrio fic and how you write him sgehshrifh may i request more of him? either a continuation of the last fic or just a more cuddly fluff or whatever you prefer ☹️🙏 the way you set up the scenes, his humor! his mannerisms! god have mercy on me now im yearning
Give me all you got. I have no ideas, so hit me with any suggestions you have.
I NEED to say this cuz omg I’ve loved your writing since I’ve found it about 2-3 years ago and whenever I need comfort… for some reason I can’t explain your writing offers that. It’s so masterfully written from whatever fandom it comes from. I’ve been enjoying the jjk writing recently and lemme just say- 😭🤌 chefs kiss ✨ your writing just feels so authentic and real and flow so easily when I’m reading and the way you describe and write the smuts is just beautiful and a perfect balance of descriptive yet not crude. Please keep writing I BEG the world cannot lose another master artist like you :3 I hope your college stress gets better and I await any new chapters within the genshin oneshots! Thank you again ❤️❤️
Hiii, omg! I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’ve actually finished college! I’ll have more time to write, and there will be more genshin fics, don’t you worry.
I’m honored to hear you think of my work so highly. It made me smile. I’m glad it can be a source of comfort to you. :)
Your genshin impact collection has me hooked I’ve been REREADING your content before bed that I can’t go to sleep without reading it now oh my goodness thank you so much for blessing us YOURE AN AMAZING AUTHOR!!!
THANK YOU!!! That makes me so happy to hear. I love you I kiss you gently on the forehead.
𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: It's a bad idea to want him like you do, and it's even worse when he wants you just as bad.
This is a bad idea.
The collision of mouths, shared breaths, and grasping hands fills the gaps between you like a spill of ink. His mask is bunched up over his nose, headset discarded as he crowds you against the wall, mouth crushed to yours.
Teeth knock together, the taste of his tongue is heady on your lips, in your mouth, past your teeth, in your blood. Your hands grasp at the back of his head, nails digging into the fabric of his balaclava, and he growls into your mouth.
This is such a bad idea, but neither of you care. Now that the line you’ve both been so carefully avoiding has been crossed, neither of you have any interest in going back. Desire, lust, and love blend together into a heady concoction that scrambles any of your rational thought, scrambled further by those rough, almost gritty breaths he gives every time he breaks away, only to rejoin your mouths in another devouring kiss.
He’s using the difference in your sizes to his advantage here, one large hand on the curve of your waist, iron firm, his opposite arm braced above your head. Ghost has never been a small man, and it’s as arousing as it is evident as you lose any remaining inhibitions you may have had in the taste of his mouth.
This has been a long time coming. Tension taught as a bowstring, brought from a rivalry turned friendship, one that the others loved to poke fun at, even as the flower bulbs of feelings took root, their vines coiling thick and thorny around your heart. Ensnared, entangled. Fuck. Soap and Gaz were going to have a field day, because from the way Simon’s mouth was moving against your own with an almost breathless need, nothing could prove them more right.
His knee slips between your thighs, and you gasp into his mouth at the friction. You feel his lips curl into a whisper of a smile as he flexes the muscle, making your hips jerk, hands scrambling for grip at the back of his neck. This is going somewhere very fast, but neither of you care to even attempt to slow it down, let alone stop it.
“Last chance,” he rasps, and the low sound of his voice makes aching heat gather between your thighs.
“Huh?” You breathe, and the way he forces out a short laugh makes your head spin.
“Last chance to back out.”
You lift your head, eyes meeting his. Long lashes, the color of gold, frame his dark eyes, the coffee brown irises swallowed by the dark of his pupils. His mouth, kiss bruised, and his jaw, lightly dusted with stubble, are the only things visible, apart from those eyes, revealed by his carelessly rucked up mask. He looks as disheveled as you feel, and for some reason, that only makes it hotter.
“I’m not backing out,” you say, voice coming out much breathier than you thought it would, but you hardly have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about that.
That’s all it takes. All bets are off as he kisses you again, his tongue pushing past your lips as his hands find your ass, squeezing, before he’s boosting your legs up around his hips, long legs eating up the distance as he walks to his bed, away from the door you’d been crowded up against.
Your clothes don’t last long, your uniform top quickly removed, sports bra shoved above your tits as his mouth encloses a nipple, making you gasp, hands grasping at his shirt.
Then, without so much as a second thought, when the fabric falls and gets in the way of his mouth, he growls in annoyance and pulls off his mask. You’ve never seen his face without it, only Price has, you think, but apart from your captain, Ghost’s face has remained a mystery to the rest of the company. To you, that mystery isn’t so mysterious anymore.
“Your mask–” you gasp, unable to squirrel away your shock to process later, but he merely grunts in response.
“Forget it,” he says dismissively, “it was getting in the way.”
Your hands card through newly revealed honey blonde hair, still messy from being covered by the balaclava, his face still smudged with eye black as he gazes down at you with dark, hooded eyes. You take a brief moment to admire him, because aside from a scar at the corner of his mouth, his face is unblemished and handsome, a far cry from the horrible disfigurement Soap has previously joked that Simon must be hiding under the skull patterned fabric.
His mouth returns to your breast, unhindered by the fabric of the mask, and you can’t help the soft little keen that leaves you, both at the caress of his tongue and the feel of his stubble against your tender flesh. He mouths at your body, only separating to yank his shirt over his head, his hand covering your breast as he kisses you again.
Grasping hands find your hips, sliding down to your thighs, and you moan openly as he slots his hips between your parted legs, the hard ridge of his cock rubbing so perfectly against your clothed cunt. Your noise of pleasure matches his, and he repeats the action with a roll of his hips that has your eyes squeezing shut in bliss.
“Simon,” you whisper as he draws back from the kiss, though his mouth remains a whisper away, “Simon, please.”
“Fuck,” he curses, lust drunk, mouthing at your throat, “you’re gonna look so pretty on my cock.”
Those words alone make your insides twist into pleasant knots, and you squirm under him. His hand slides down your stomach, unfastening your pants and pushing them down your legs, your boots kicked off along with them. The compression shorts you wear under your pants come next, and you barely register that he’s clearly impatient to get you naked as he pulls your bra the rest of the way off.
He sits back on his knees above you, looming over you, looking down through pale lashes. The sight of him, hard muscle and heated gaze, it makes you ache. You sit up on your elbows to press kisses against his chest, his abs, making him tense and shudder, one of his hands lifting to cup the back of your head. Your tongue traces patterns against his pale flesh, and you can feel him through his slacks, hard against your stomach, twitching as your tongue swipes across one of his nipples.
That’s about all the control he’ll allow you, clearly, as he pushes you down, caging you in with his arms. His mouth is on your throat again, your collarbone, down your body, and you’re helpless as he makes a path towards where he wants to be. His hands find the underside of your thighs, pushing them apart to accommodate himself as he lays them over his shoulders. His eyes flick up to yours, and when you don’t protest or try to stop him (not that you wanted to), he keeps that eye contact as his tongue drags across your pussy.
His eyes flutter closed, brows pinching a little as he gives another pass of his tongue, blunt nails digging into the plush of your thighs as he groans. The vibrations of the noise make your hips jump, but he stills you with a tug as he wraps his arms around your hips and pulls you flush against his mouth.
Your head feels empty as he begins eating, the sounds his mouth is making utterly obscene, wet and messy but so fucking perfect that you can’t help but arch. Your ability to even so much as squirm is inhibited by his iron grip around your body, his fingers digging into your flesh to hold you where he wants you.
“So fuckin’ sweet,” he breathes, and when his lips close around your clit, you cry out his name in an almost pathetic whine.
This is such a bad idea, but fuck if it doesn’t feel incredible.
Your lieutenant is eating you out, and from the way he’s holding you there as his tongue plunges into you, making you quake against him, all you can do is lay there and take it. Price can’t know, but he isn’t stupid, and this is definitely not the last time you’ll be doing this.
“Simon,” you gasp, and he gives a harsh suck to your clit in response, making you choke on air.
One of his arms moves, releasing your leg, but he doesn’t waste any time in using that free hand to spread you open even further for him, palm against your tender inner thigh, then he’s pushing two fingers into you. Stars burst across your vision as he crooks them up, and fuck, your orgasm is coming way too fast. You sob with bliss, back lifting from the sheets as he works his fingers into you, hitting all the places that your own can’t reach, and you can barely make out the way he’s whispering hushed praise into your skin as he keeps working his tongue over your throbbing clit.
You can barely warn him as he all but pulls your orgasm out of you, the only sound you’re able to give him a strangled sob as your climax slams into you, making you buck and squirm against his mouth, vision hazy as he keeps going, working you through your climax without slowing down.
You curse, babbling his name, and he groans as you pulse around his fingers, body arching and spasming. All you can say is that it’s too sensitive, and you’re halfway to another orgasm before he finally slows, pulling back with uneven breaths.
No time is wasted as he crawls up your body, mouth on yours, and the taste of yourself on his lips makes your head spin. You’re so achingly empty, and when you reach down to palm Simon through the pants he’s still wearing, the sound he makes is one you commit to memory.
“Fuck me,” you breathe against his mouth, “Simon, fuck me.”
He grasps one of your breasts, squeezing gently, and you squirm again.
“Gladly.”
He sits back, and you get to watch as he unfastens his pants, pushing them down just far enough to free his erection, and fuck, you understand why he’d been fingering you because there’s no way you’d be able to take that without any prep. He’s big, but that goes without saying. He’s thick. Your head is too scrambled to estimate just how big he is, but your head is spinning just thinking about the stretch.
He wraps his hand around himself, fisting his cock before he’s moving over you. He rubs the drooling tip against your cunt.
“Don’t have a condom,” he breathes, and you shake your head.
“I have the implant.”
That’s all he needs. He pushes fingers into you, stretching you with manual motions before he’s breathing out a warning.
“Tell me if it hurts. I know I’m…”
“Big?” You supply, and he breathes out what may be a laugh.
“I was going to say above average. We’ll go slow.”
Then, his hips rock forward, and you feel him start to enter you.
You grit your teeth. Even the tip is a stretch, and you feel the burn of it as he murmurs comforts, kissing your jaw, your throat.
“Alright?”
You force yourself to nod, and he pushes in further.
Oh, the sound he makes. A low, debauched groan, drawn out between gritted teeth. It makes you whimper in response, and his teeth sink into your shoulder as his hips push forward again.
“Almost there,” he murmurs, “good girl, almost takin’ it all.”
You whimper, your legs lifting to wind around his hips, urging him forward, and you watch as his teeth grit, followed by a sharp jerk of his hips, burying himself the rest of the way inside of you.
He curses, and you feel him twitch inside of you, feel the flex of his hips, the tense of his muscles in the press of his body to yours.
“Fuck,” he growls, “like a fuckin’ dream. Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ good.”
The rasp of his words against your ear makes you tremble. The way his accent has grown thicker is so needlessly sexy, the mancunian drawl you’ve only ever observed when he’s angry or tired showing itself in his strained voice.
He draws back, just a fraction of an inch, testing the waters, before he’s pushing back in, and the stretch of him is making your head spin. You claw at the sheets as he repeats the motion, again and again and again. He gradually picks up speed, finding a pace that has both of you gasping for air.
“So fuckin’ tight,” he groans, “takin’ my cock so well.”
His hand flattens against the mattress above your head, supporting his weight as he works his hips against yours in firm, deep thrusts. His other hand grasps your hip, holding you in place for him.
“That’s it, take it,” he pants, voice rough with pleasure, and you can’t stop moaning, your body rolling and bucking under his.
He whispers praise against your throat as his hand goes from your hip to rub at your clit with his thumb, making you squeeze around him with a helpless whimper, something that makes him curse, hips thrusting forward more roughly. It’s so good, so fucking perfect, and if you’d known how good this would be, you’d have considered acting on bad ideas far earlier.
Your climax is approaching embarrassingly quickly, and you pull him down into a kiss, one he returns without hesitation. The pressure on your clit increases, making you squeeze around him harder.
“Fuck, I ain’t gonna last,” he rumbles, and you feel his pace pick up, the hand above your head curling into the sheets, and the way he’s groaning into your ear in blissed out ecstacy is what finally does it.
Your orgasm hits hard, and he slows, working you through it with deep, rolling thrusts of his hips. He’s delaying his own orgasm, you can tell from the way his jaw tenses, the way his muscles tighten.
You whimper as he keeps pressing your clit, rubbing in firm circles under his thumb, and you can only whimper in overstimulation as he revels in the way it makes you squeeze around him.
“Like fuckin’ velvet,” he breathes, and then he’s moving again.
Your mouth falls open in bliss as he bottoms out inside you and grinds, and the fullness combined with the way the base of his dick is rubbing against your clit is almost too much for your already fried brain to handle. You can only lay there and take it as he hikes your legs up, over his hips, pinning you in place as he chases after his own orgasm.
You kiss him, and he groans, hand knotting in your hair. He thrusts hard, once, twice, and then he’s gone, groaning raggedly as he spills into you. His hips jerk as he rides out his climax, and you shudder against him, hands sliding from the back of his head to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.
He goes slack, and you gather him into your arms, a gesture he doesn’t even hesitate to return. The room is quiet, save for uneven breaths as he holds you against him. Finally, he pulls back, pulling out of you, then he’s standing and disappearing into the small bathroom connected to the room. He returns with a warm washcloth, which he uses to wipe your inner thighs clean, and then he’s crawling into the bed beside you, gathering your body into his arms.
You never took him to be a cuddler, and you open your mouth to make a note of this, but the way he looks at you shuts you up.
“Sleep here or don’t,” he says, but from the way he’s holding you, you don’t think the latter is an option.
Few words are exchanged as you let him pull the blankets up, tucking you against him. There’s something so perfectly lovely about the feel of bare skin on skin, and you revel in it, heart heavy with adoration as you kiss his shoulder, and he rests his chin atop your head.
“Next time,” he says, and you hum in response, “you can be on top.”
It’s a bad idea. Such a bad idea. But when he kisses your forehead, so tender it makes your heartbeat flutter like butterfly wings, you really can’t bring yourself to care. Your eyes close.
Noticed you didn't write anything about Ayato yet so here's my idea for some smutt: you're married to Ayato and he wants an heir to the Kamisato Clan... 👀
Hi! I have a question. May I ask your permission to translate your work "—𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘠𝘶𝘶𝘫𝘪, 𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪, 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪, 𝘎𝘰𝘫𝘰, 𝘛𝘰𝘨𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘯𝘢"? I will indicate your authorship
Hi! No, please do not do that, I do not allow my work to be posted or translated anywhere else. It unfortunately makes me uncomfortable to have my fics posted by someone who isn’t myself. I must thank you for asking, though, instead of just doing it anyway.
Hey I know you probably get asked this a lot but how chapter 4 for friendly fire going. I'm obsessed! You captured the characters so perfectly
Ahhhh tysm! The chapter is going well, I just have to figure out how to finish the last few legs of the chapter, then run it by the person who requested the fic and started all of this, etc. It’s a whole process. But rest assured that it will be posted eventually, probably after college starts back up.
