rules ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ
※ do not repost / use for ai / translate / take ideas as your own.
※ may have 🔞 posts, game spoilers, dark or heavy content. please follow responsibly and heed the content warnings.
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※ REQUESTS OPEN: sfw/nsfw all ok, please be polite and don't spam. i will only write stuff i'm comfortable with. ^^
Blade from hsr being mean because I don't think he'd be the type to talk much in bed or outside of it with a s/o.
He'd always said and thought words become unnecessary when you're truly in love and familiar with someone, he'd still be happy to hear you talk all you want though , especially when you were shivering in his embrace and telling him he was too deep.
You'd proposed to be on top for once because it gave you more control during sex and to limit how many times you'd end up overstimulated, you can't be limping around all the time right ? But it didn't really work out that well , he really insisted on holding you close and guiding your hips up and down his dick when you were going too slow for his taste , but his grip became as bruising as always , and everything became too much all too fast until you couldn't do anything but sob and moan while he pushed his hips up to meet yours in a half thrust "too deep!! s' too much!"
You were loud but he couldn't focus on anything other than the wet slapping sounds of his skin against yours everytime he rammed into you , because no , he wasn't gentle and he knew you loved it that way.
If he didn't feel like moving much though and you both still wanted to feel each other he'd make you cockwarm him until you came from him rubbing your clit and suddenly going a bit deeper when you relax and sit still long enough , still then even if you were unmoving he'd stay quiet and only answer you with grunts and "mhms" sighing into your neck and letting you talk and whine all you want right next to his ear while you stroked his hair. He really loved it.
You know, I've been re-reading my Flins x reader fic, and I was wondering if I was too heavy-handed with his speech (aka the flirting). Suffice to say, after playing the archon quest, I think under the right circumstances he would be saying all that LMAO guy was flirting left and right. Granted, it was unserious flirting, more playful flattery than true romantic interest, but I think it's very interesting how he uses it (and his politeness, courtesies etc.) to create distance between himself and others. His relationships with everyone are really so interesting. I need to study him under a microscope
chapter 2. a peek into your past, the night you first met—in which he gives you the fright of your life and you attempt to get him back.
(previous chapter / masterlist / ao3 mirror)
cw: none. female mc, can be read as a standalone. (i genuinely do not know if i should tag this as reader or oc—she has a backstory, but her appearance and name is very rarely mentioned. i do not particularly mind or care if you choose to project on her.) wc: 2k words.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · Two years ago.
Patrol ended as the first rays of dawn started to illuminate the sea. It was the first night of many more that you would spend on this isle. Although patrol today was quiet, it wasn’t boring. This was an area you were unfamiliar with, so you took the time taking in the new sights and studying the lay of the land.
Still, in the darkness of the lonesome night with only your Oath Lantern for company, your thoughts echo too loudly. You were reluctant to return, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to sleep.
You knew that there was a lighthouse on one of the islands close by. It once was a Lightkeeper base, until an incursion of the Wild Hunt took out most of the Ratniki stationed there. The lighthouse had since fallen into disrepair. You hadn’t realised how close it was until you were standing on the opposite shore. With no one operating the lighthouse, it stood shrouded by the dark of the night.
You felt a sense of pity. Such a grand structure that once witnessed the coming and goings of many was now abandoned and silent. But you couldn’t deny that you were curious. Might as well go there to pay your respects to the fallen, and perhaps climb up the lighthouse to get a better look at the surroundings and clear your thoughts before going back.
A sense of unease crept into your heart the moment you stepped into the cemetery. Although someone must’ve been around to take care of it—there was no overgrown grass, and flowers bloomed next to the gravestones—it was still derelict and eerie, surrounded by broken headstones and half-formed phantoms.
It felt like someone was watching you.
Unwilling to be cowed, you willed your lantern to glow brighter in response, hoping the brightness could disperse the feeling of trepidation.
These ghosts were just memories that haven't been absorbed into the ley lines, you told yourself. They couldn't see you, couldn't harm you. There was nothing to be afraid of… oh, who were you kidding? Your heart was just about to beat out of your chest as you tried to convince yourself that everything was fine.
Although you were starting to regret coming here, you didn’t turn back. You were a Lightkeeper. You shouldn’t be afraid of the things that creep around in the dark, and even if you were, you shouldn’t let it intimidate you.
Making your way up to the lighthouse, you saw that there were signs that someone had been around. Fire crackled merrily in an outdoor cooking stove. The table and bench nearby were clean, with several tools strewn on its surface. Lights glowed coldly on top of the shed. But there was no sight of human life. You weren’t surprised. Who would want to live in such a place, with only ghosts for company?
Heading up the lighthouse proved to be a challenge. The ladder was old and broken in places. It looked like it would give out if the wind blew wrongly. You placed your foot onto the lowest rung, testing its strength.
Surprisingly, it held up. Emboldened by your success, you strapped your lantern to your belt and climbed up to the observation deck carefully.
It wasn’t an awe-inspiring place. The floor seemed sturdy enough, but the guard rail was broken in places.
You stood as far away from the edge as you could, watching dawn break.
The land seemed to be perpetually veiled by the darkness, but there was a gentle ray of sunlight illuminating a cloud from within on the far side of the isle. People would be waking up by now, preparing to go about their day. If you squinted, you could see shadows of structures on Lempo Isle.
There was a telescope perched precariously on the railing, so you carefully made your way towards it, wanting to see if it was still usable.
The floor creaked ominously. You were busy paying attention to your feet, so you didn’t notice that you were no longer alone.
“Miss, do be careful—”
You flinched when a voice sounded behind you—too close, when did someone get up here?—stumbling backwards, so fast that you lost your balance. There was a moment where it felt like you were hanging in mid-air, a rush of adrenaline hitting your veins before gravity caught you and you went crashing down. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for an impact that came softer than expected.
“My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?”
You opened your eyes to find that no, you had not toppled over the broken railings, no thanks to the young man who gave you the fright of your life. Instead, he righted your balance, keeping an arm wrapped securely around your waist. Concern warped his elegant features. “Miss?”
Belatedly, you realise you’ve been holding onto him for longer than socially acceptable. You let go immediately, putting a healthy distance between the two of you. “Where did you come from?” you blurted.
He chuckled, and instantly you started to flush. You hadn’t meant to say that. Nonetheless, he inclined his head politely as he replied. “My name is Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins; for simplicity’s sake, you can just call me Flins. As a fellow Ratnik, I live here and tend to these grounds.”
“You live here?” Caught off guard by his sudden appearance, you tried not to sound too judgmental, although you weren’t sure you succeeded. No one in their right mind would want to live in such a dull and dreary place, and although you now recognise the lantern he carries on his self, the handsome stranger in front of you still seemed out of place. At least he doesn’t seem to be some sort of serial killer about to invite you inside his house where he secretly keeps what remains of his victims. “I didn’t think anyone would want to be here willingly.”
Luckily, he didn’t take offence. If anything, a hint of amusement crept into his voice. “Then why are you here?”
You shook your head, flustered but trying not to show it. “Ah… you got me. I was just appreciating the scenery, nothing more.”
“The scenery?” he asked, more intrigued than you expected him to be. “I hope it lived up to your expectations, although I wouldn't say there's much around here to be appreciated. Most people find this place dreary and dreadfully boring.”
“I can't deny that,” you said, startled into laughter for he had echoed your thoughts exactly. “The half-built Fatui stronghold does ruin the ambience, doesn't it? I imagine it looked much better before they decided to settle there.”
“I can't say. Alas, I never paid much attention to the aesthetic value of the scenery, nor have I ever made a habit of watching dawn break from this vantage.” But he does now, tipping his head to watch the horizon. “You seem quite taken by the view. What is it about this place that attracts you so?”
Now that his gaze was fixed upon the horizon and not on you, you finally feel comfortable studying this stranger’s visage—from his strange, fathomless eyes, to the aristocratic planes of his face and long hair curling in the frigid wind. You could be convinced that he was a figment of your imagination; some sort of mythical creature like the yokai you read about in your light novels, so strange and fey.
(But he was real. You know it because he saved you from falling, felt the weight of his grip on you, solid and sure.)
“It’s less about its aesthetic value,” you said. The way he spoke—precise and elegant, as if he were a nobleman and not a stranger living in an abandoned lighthouse—compelled you to pick your words carefully. “Being up here, seeing the vast lands stretching out in front of me and imagining all the people going about their lives, it makes me feel small. It’s intimidating, but it makes my worries seem inconsequential, too. I think… it’s beautiful in its own way, and I'm grateful to be alive and a part of it.”
“I see. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me.” He smiled at you. “In the future, please feel free to return here again, although I’ll advise against standing too close to the edge. I didn’t catch your name though, miss…?”
“Ah! Where are my manners?” Embarrassed, you introduced yourself quickly. “Do forgive me for my discourtesy. I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone here. You gave me such a good fright that it seems my mind has emptied of all thoughts!”
“Do not worry. On the contrary, it is I who ought to apologise. Allow me to make it up to you.” He bows, reaching out his hand. “Shall I escort you back?”
“There’s no need to be so polite!” You say, flustered yet again. He was treating you as though you were some courtly lady in need of assistance, not a coworker he had just met. What were you supposed to do, take his hand and have a leisurely stroll in the fog together? You don’t even hold hands with your closest friends, never one for much skinship. “I’m sure you have better things to do. I can return on my own, don’t worry.”
“I’m sure you could, but some company wouldn’t be remiss. Lightkeepers we may be, but this is still no place to linger alone. In the future, we may need to call upon each other for help. Would it not be prudent to establish a rapport sooner?”
“You’re a real smooth talker, aren’t you?” You were rather impressed at how skilled this man was at using his words to get what he wanted. You couldn’t turn him down again without feeling like you were making a social faux pas. Besides, he seemed nice. It would be nice to have a friend. “Accidents aside, I have enjoyed our chat and would be honoured to continue being in your company.”
“You flatter me, miss. The same can be said for you.” He laughed, gesturing to the ladder. “Well then, after you.”
A few days later, you saw the wink of a familiar blue flame in the distance. He hadn't spotted you behind him yet, but you shuttered your lantern. Instantly, your surroundings were plunged into darkness.
Courtesy dictated that you greet him. But although he held himself decorously, he didn't seem like a stickler for propriety. If anything, he seemed to be the type who'd appreciate a good joke.
So… you were going to greet him. But as for how you were going to greet him…You suppressed a smile. It would be funny if you managed to get him back for the scare he gave you. A bit of light-hearted revenge, if you will.
Carefully, you made your way to him, the moonlight and his strange blue lantern guiding your path. Hopefully, the sound of the sea washing against the shore could cover any noises you made by accident.
You wanted to get close enough to tap his shoulder, but before you could close in on the distance, he had already turned around to greet you.
“We meet again, miss. What a pleasant surprise.” He paused. “Is something wrong with your lantern? It may be dangerous to be out on patrol if it’s broken. Or are you perhaps heading toward Paha Isle for maintenance?”
“It’s working fine, Flins. See?” You gave him a chastened smile, showing him that your lamp was perfectly fine. “I saw you walking ahead of me and thought it would be funny to give you a little surprise. But as you can see, my plans were so easily foiled.”
He chuckled. “Well, don’t let this failure stop you. I’m sure you’ll succeed… eventually.”
“Hey… That doesn’t sound like a vote of confidence!” you said reproachfully, although you smiled at him so he knew you were just joking. “Since you’ve given me your permission, I suppose I’ll take this chance to improve my stealth. You'd better watch out!”
“I look forward to it,” he promised.
(And that's how your little game starts, harmless and inconsequential. Although you’ve never won—not even once—you don’t mind it at all.)
tag list ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ @ravennnnnnnnnnnnnlol @arminsarlerts @artizxan @eifron @ajaxsbeloved (leave a comment on this post if you want to be tagged! i might miss you if you comment anywhere else.)
I'm sorry to say it takes like 600+ words for flins to show up and they're not even having sex yet 🥀 fuckkk... I don't think they're going to Do It this chapter 💔
I'm sorry to say it takes like 600+ words for flins to show up and they're not even having sex yet 🥀 fuckkk... I don't think they're going to Do It this chapter 💔
im literslly obsessed with your flins reader and rerir long fic, I can’t wait for you to drop the new chapters flins is just 🤤
Omg thank you anon!! 🥺 I have stuff planned up to the archon quests but unfortunately flins hasn't come home yet so I've been grinding gems instead of writing 😭😭😭😭😭 I need him so bad
fanfic idea: meeting Flins in Nod-Krai after anyone you met has warned you to be careful around him. him being all eerie and spooky around you to relish as usual in humans' uneasiness and fear. but what he doesn't realise is that the real reason you look so nervous around him is that you find his elegant and gentlemanly manners really hot and you simply have a crush on him
Kyryll isn't certain he heard you correctly, his hand stilling atop your head as he begs your pardon.
"When I'm dead. You'll plant flowers by my grave and come talk to me like this."
It's not something he'd previously considered. Quite odd, as he often found himself contemplating the nature of humans and their limited lifespans.
He shifts his hand, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and settling your weight against his chest. Perhaps he'd simply never considered how fleeting your time together would be. Centuries have gone by before meeting you, and there would be many more once you were gone.
How odd. His voice feels like ice about to shatter when he settles on an answer. "Of course. In life and death, I will always tend to you."
• When you first met the small saurian, you couldn't hide your excitement. The little guy was just so adorable! He looked nothing like the other saurians in Natlan, and he seemed to only communicate via mimicking someone else's speech, but he was perfect in your eyes.
• Who wouldn't fall in love with an orb of a bird who says “what are you on about?” & “no way, bro”
• It wasn't too much longer until you met the saurian's human companion — a sauro-vet named Ifa. After listening to him speak for a few minutes, you instantly recognized where Cacucu's manner of speech comes from.
• You and Ifa immediately click. And it's not long before you spend more time together than apart.
• Ifa shows you around the Flower-Feather Clan, and you even learn a few things about being a veterinarian during your tours.
• In turn, you recount a few tales from your travels around Teyvat in all of the thrilling details!
• Soon enough, a certain saurian begins to find you even when you and Ifa aren't hanging out. He doesn't appear to need anything in particular though, he just wants to hang out, you guess.
• Cacucu even ends up in your lap one day. While you were taking a much needed break in the shade, Cacucu flew over and cozied up in your lap, slowly lulled to sleep as you pet him.
• Any time you tried to cook something, the little guy would fly over and watch you intently. And how were you supposed to say no to such an adorable face?
• You were always nuzzling Cacucu, petting him for as long as he would allow it, sneaking him a bite of food, and letting him chill out with you.
• Unbeknownst to you, Ifa was aware of his companion's escapades. A good chunk of the time, he was standing just out of view, watching you spoil Cacucu.
• If he wasn't in love with you already, watching you treat his friend with such kindness definitely made him fall head over heels~
chapter 1. flins gives you a proposal you can't refuse.
(masterlist with general content warnings / ao3 mirror)
cw: female mc, suggestive, minors DNI. (i genuinely do not know if i should tag this as reader or oc—she has a backstory, but her appearance and name is very rarely mentioned. i do not particularly mind or care if you choose to project on her.) wc: 1.2k words.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · A week before.
“I mean, I just don’t really get the hype behind it, that's all.”
You're tipsy, leaning against Flins for support as you stumble a little. The Fire-Water has loosened your tongue—you wouldn't be talking about this if you were sober, much less to Flins, of all people. But perhaps it’s because it's Flins that you're saying this, because he might understand. He never looked interested when the Ratniki share suggestive jokes by the firelight (and there were many, because life-threatening situations had a way of bonding people). He always looking politely bored, perhaps too proper to participate in risque jokes. that, or the fact that he seemed to live a practically sexless life compared to the other ratniki, although you probably didn’t have a leg to stand on.
Surprisingly, tonight he entertains you. “Have you ever been with anyone?”
You gasp in mock surprise. “Sir Flins! How could you ask this question of a lady? I never kiss and tell. But, if you really must know—” You think about it a little, the alcohol muddling up your brain so it takes significant effort to process your thoughts, and also because: “—it's complicated?”
“Ah. My sincerest apologies. I shouldn't have asked.”
“It's okay!” You pat his hand, stumbling over your feet a little. The ground kind of… floated… beneath your feet. Maybe you went a little overboard with the drinks. “I don't mind. I like talking to you. Anyway, hmm… it still doesn't appeal to me, but maybe I just haven't found the right person, if they ever plan on coming along.”
“I’m sure they will,” Flins said, ever so polite even after several glasses of Fire-Water. You thought that was all, a perfunctory assurance after listening to your woes—you really needed to shut up before you said something you regretted tomorrow—but Flins surprised you entirely by continuing on. “You're dilligent in all you do, meticulous even when it comes to matters others may think tedious. Your loyalty and determination shines when carrying out your duties. And your empathy—your ability to put others at ease and bring hope during trying times is something I greatly admire. A fool may mistake an unpolished gem for common stone, but anyone with a discerning eye will recognise its value.”
“Flins!” You said, delighted. You were so touched that you almost teared up. It was rare for you to receive such praise, you didn’t really know what to do with it other than thank Flins. “That's the nicest thing anyone has ever told me! If you don’t stop complimenting me, I might get the wrong idea.”
“What sort of wrong idea?”
“Ah… hm…” You scratched your head. This conversation felt like… like… the first time you tried a windglider and ended up tumbling through the air. (You were starting to feel bad, like you guilt-tripped Flins into paying you a compliment, and now you were implying that he had ulterior motives in doing so.) Discussing dating and sex with your coworker (you would call him a friend, although you weren’t too sure if he considered you one; he rarely referred to others by such labels) was not on your to-do list. Was it too late to pretend you were too drunk for this conversation? No, Flins wouldn’t buy it. He’s seen you win (and lose) drinking games with the Knights of Favonius. Today’s round of drinks barely compared to the time you got competitive and tried to out-drink the Grandmaster. (Key word: tried. Terrible, bad, no good decision. You admit your defeat.)
Somewhere along the line you lost track of your train of thought. Flins was still looking at you, expecting an answer.
“What sort of wrong idea?” he repeated.
“Well, keep complimenting people like that, and they’re going to think you have ulterior motives.”
“Ulterior motives? Such as…?”
Did he really want you to spell it out to him? There's no way he's so dense. But a quick look at Flins reveals that he's hiding an impish smile. You swat his arm lightly. “You already know what I mean! Don't pretend otherwise!”
Flins laughs softly. “Forgive me when I say that your reactions are rather amusing. I couldn't resist. But… speaking of ulterior motives—to which I will assure you that there are none and I spoke from the heart—would it truly be so bad if I had one?”
“Hm?”
“I'm saying I wouldn't be averse to the idea of a night with you.”
It was like the world had suddenly stopped spinning, and so had your brain’s neurons stopped firing. “I—I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”
“Would you be amenable to spending a night with me?” Flins said, and you started to wonder if the Fire-Water had really got to you and you were having the weirdest dream of your life. “I promise, I'll ensure you are… satisfied. And if you decide that it's truly not for you, I won't be offended.”
You open your mouth. Close it. “I mean… that doesn't sound like a fair exchange.”
“An exchange?” Flins laughs. You look up at him, more than a little confused, and when he catches your eye his gaze intense in a way that makes you want to look away, but you can't. “Trust me… I will be very compensated.”
You blush from the roots of your hair. It was hard to argue with a tone like that. “Oh. I. I mean—you want—now?”
“Perhaps not now,” Flins said, coming to a stop. You realise that somehow, over the course of that conversation, you've managed to make your way back to your uncle’s place. “Master Sousi might kill me.”
You shudder. “Ah. Well, he might not kill you, but—yeah, definitely not here. Should—should we go back to the Flagship?”
“There's no rush,” Flins said, lifting you away from where you were leaning against his shoulder so you could lean against the door instead. “Besides, I would rather you sober. Would be a shame if you forgot everything in the morning, no?”
“I'm not that drunk,” you say, offended at the idea of you not being able to hold your liquor. “I’d definitely remember.”
“Good,” Flins smiles, and you realised you've walked yourself into this—you wouldn't be able to pretend that this never happened when you wake up tomorrow morning. “I'll see you tomorrow, then.”
He presses a kiss against the back of your hand. “Now go back inside. Have sweet dreams, my dear.”
You stumble inside robotically, ignoring the way your hand tingles where his lips met your skin.
“Flins,” you gasp, tugging at his hair as he kisses down your chest, leaving butterflies in his wake. There's a fire alight in you, a want for him you didn't know was possible for you to feel. His hands grip at your hips, trying to keep you still, but you shiver uncontrollably.
His long hair tickles your thighs where he's nestled himself in between your legs, and he edges downwards, pressing kisses on your stomach now. You gasp his name, a wordless beseeching, as he edges closer and closer to—
You wake up frustrated and valiantly resist an urge to bang your head on the wall. You needed a drink. Then again, a drink was what got you here in the first place, so maybe you needed to cut down on them instead.
P.s. (because I forgot to mention before): leave a comment if you want to be added to a tag list, and I'll tag you when I update the next chapter. Do read the warnings for future chapters in the masterlist beforehand.
chapter 1. flins gives you a proposal you can't refuse.
(masterlist with general content warnings / ao3 mirror / next chapter)
cw: female mc, suggestive, minors DNI. (i genuinely do not know if i should tag this as reader or oc—she has a backstory, but her appearance and name is very rarely mentioned. i do not particularly mind or care if you choose to project on her.) wc: 1.2k words.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · A week before.
“I mean, I just don’t really get the hype behind it, that's all.”
You're tipsy, leaning against Flins for support as you stumble a little. The Fire-Water has loosened your tongue—you wouldn't be talking about this if you were sober, much less to Flins, of all people. But perhaps it’s because it's Flins that you're saying this, because he might understand. He never looked interested when the Ratniki share suggestive jokes by the firelight (and there were many, because life-threatening situations had a way of bonding people). He always looking politely bored, perhaps too proper to participate in risque jokes. that, or the fact that he seemed to live a practically sexless life compared to the other ratniki, although you probably didn’t have a leg to stand on.
Surprisingly, tonight he entertains you. “Have you ever been with anyone?”
You gasp in mock surprise. “Sir Flins! How could you ask this question of a lady? I never kiss and tell. But, if you really must know—” You think about it a little, the alcohol muddling up your brain so it takes significant effort to process your thoughts, and also because: “—it's complicated?”
“Ah. My sincerest apologies. I shouldn't have asked.”
“It's okay!” You pat his hand, stumbling over your feet a little. The ground kind of… floated… beneath your feet. Maybe you went a little overboard with the drinks. “I don't mind. I like talking to you. Anyway, hmm… it still doesn't appeal to me, but maybe I just haven't found the right person, if they ever plan on coming along.”
“I’m sure they will,” Flins said, ever so polite even after several glasses of Fire-Water. You thought that was all, a perfunctory assurance after listening to your woes—you really needed to shut up before you said something you regretted tomorrow—but Flins surprised you entirely by continuing on. “You're dilligent in all you do, meticulous even when it comes to matters others may think tedious. Your loyalty and determination shines when carrying out your duties. And your empathy—your ability to put others at ease and bring hope during trying times is something I greatly admire. A fool may mistake an unpolished gem for common stone, but anyone with a discerning eye will recognise its value.”
“Flins!” You said, delighted. You were so touched that you almost teared up. It was rare for you to receive such praise, you didn’t really know what to do with it other than thank Flins. “That's the nicest thing anyone has ever told me! If you don’t stop complimenting me, I might get the wrong idea.”
“What sort of wrong idea?”
“Ah… hm…” You scratched your head. This conversation felt like… like… the first time you tried a windglider and ended up tumbling through the air. (You were starting to feel bad, like you guilt-tripped Flins into paying you a compliment, and now you were implying that he had ulterior motives in doing so.) Discussing dating and sex with your coworker (you would call him a friend, although you weren’t too sure if he considered you one; he rarely referred to others by such labels) was not on your to-do list. Was it too late to pretend you were too drunk for this conversation? No, Flins wouldn’t buy it. He’s seen you win (and lose) drinking games with the Knights of Favonius. Today’s round of drinks barely compared to the time you got competitive and tried to out-drink the Grandmaster. (Key word: tried. Terrible, bad, no good decision. You admit your defeat.)
Somewhere along the line you lost track of your train of thought. Flins was still looking at you, expecting an answer.
“What sort of wrong idea?” he repeated.
“Well, keep complimenting people like that, and they’re going to think you have ulterior motives.”
“Ulterior motives? Such as…?”
Did he really want you to spell it out to him? There's no way he's so dense. But a quick look at Flins reveals that he's hiding an impish smile. You swat his arm lightly. “You already know what I mean! Don't pretend otherwise!”
Flins laughs softly. “Forgive me when I say that your reactions are rather amusing. I couldn't resist. But… speaking of ulterior motives—to which I will assure you that there are none and I spoke from the heart—would it truly be so bad if I had one?”
“Hm?”
“I'm saying I wouldn't be averse to the idea of a night with you.”
It was like the world had suddenly stopped spinning, and so had your brain’s neurons stopped firing. “I—I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”
“Would you be amenable to spending a night with me?” Flins said, and you started to wonder if the Fire-Water had really got to you and you were having the weirdest dream of your life. “I promise, I'll ensure you are… satisfied. And if you decide that it's truly not for you, I won't be offended.”
You open your mouth. Close it. “I mean… that doesn't sound like a fair exchange.”
“An exchange?” Flins laughs. You look up at him, more than a little confused, and when he catches your eye his gaze intense in a way that makes you want to look away, but you can't. “Trust me… I will be very compensated.”
You blush from the roots of your hair. It was hard to argue with a tone like that. “Oh. I. I mean—you want—now?”
“Perhaps not now,” Flins said, coming to a stop. You realise that somehow, over the course of that conversation, you've managed to make your way back to your uncle’s place. “Master Sousi might kill me.”
You shudder. “Ah. Well, he might not kill you, but—yeah, definitely not here. Should—should we go back to the Flagship?”
“There's no rush,” Flins said, lifting you away from where you were leaning against his shoulder so you could lean against the door instead. “Besides, I would rather you sober. Would be a shame if you forgot everything in the morning, no?”
“I'm not that drunk,” you say, offended at the idea of you not being able to hold your liquor. “I’d definitely remember.”
“Good,” Flins smiles, and you realised you've walked yourself into this—you wouldn't be able to pretend that this never happened when you wake up tomorrow morning. “I'll see you tomorrow, then.”
He presses a kiss against the back of your hand. “Now go back inside. Have sweet dreams, my dear.”
You stumble inside robotically, ignoring the way your hand tingles where his lips met your skin.
“Flins,” you gasp, tugging at his hair as he kisses down your chest, leaving butterflies in his wake. There's a fire alight in you, a want for him you didn't know was possible for you to feel. His hands grip at your hips, trying to keep you still, but you shiver uncontrollably.
His long hair tickles your thighs where he's nestled himself in between your legs, and he edges downwards, pressing kisses on your stomach now. You gasp his name, a wordless beseeching, as he edges closer and closer to—
You wake up frustrated and valiantly resist an urge to bang your head on the wall. You needed a drink. Then again, a drink was what got you here in the first place, so maybe you needed to cut down on them instead.
Despite the regal, cultured air Flins carried himself with, he was much more mischievous than most would realise. He enjoyed a playful trick more than he let on. Had a penchant for them.
You hadn’t known that, back then. You just thought it would be funny to get him back after the awful fright he gave you when you first met him. And since then you’ve been playing a little game with him, a game you’ve never won; not even once, but you can’t bring yourself to mind—until an interloper interferes.
general content warnings: this is a longfic with a non-linear narrative and a female mc. (i genuinely do not know if i should tag this as reader or oc—she has a backstory, but her appearance and name is very rarely mentioned. i do not particularly mind or care if you choose to project on her.) also features a very one-sided / unrequited relationship with rerir, and there will be dead dove. i'll put more detailed warnings before each chapter should it require one.
chapter 1 : a week before (cw: suggestive, minors dni.)
chapter 2 : two years ago (cw: none.)
ANAXA’S cock might not be the biggest, but that's never mattered. He knows exactly how to use it, how to make every movement count. He's not sloppy or impatient—no, he takes his time, steady and controlled, making sure you feel every inch of him. He doesn't just fuck; he listens, he watches, he makes sure he's pulling every sound, every shiver out of you like he's the one in control of your pleasure. And the worst part? He is.
He knows how to hit the right spots, how to angle his hips just right, how to pull back slow only to sink in deep again, dragging out every second like he's savoring it. It's like dipping a spoon into the richest cream, letting it linger on the tongue, feeling the weight of it melt.
He's got a way of making you feel it even more, like he's pushing you right to the edge but never letting you fall just yet. It's never rushed, never mindless—it's deliberate, every roll of his hips, every squeeze of his fingers on your skin meant to pull you deeper into it, into him. And the way he looks at you while he does it? Like he owns you. Like you're a confection made just for him, something sweet and delicate that he wants to ruin with slow bites and lingering tastes. Like he's memorizing every little reaction, every little gasp and twitch, just so he can use it against you next time.
He doesn't just want you to feel good-he wants you wrecked, shaking, begging, barely able to think of anything but him. He wants to be the only thing in your mind, the only thing you remember when the heat finally fades and your body is spent.
It's almost unfair how good he is, how he turns something so simple into something that leaves you aching for more. He doesn't have to say much-his hands, his body, the way he moves tells you everything.
He knows he's got you. He knows you'll come back for more, because no one fucks like he does. Not with this kind of focus, this kind of purpose. He's like dark chocolate melting on your tongue, thick and bitter and addictive, impossible to get enough of, impossible to forget. And when it's over, he doesn't just leave you there, used and forgotten.
He lingers, runs his hands over you like he's still not done memorizing you. Maybe he smirks, maybe he just watches, letting the weight of what just happened settle between you. Because he knows. He knows he just ruined you in the best way possible. And he knows you'll be craving it all over again soon enough-just like that last bite of something sinful, something you swear you've had enough of, but still, you can't help but reach for more.
His hand moves before you can stop him, rough fingers sliding over your tits, kneading, testing, feeling the weight of you in his palm like he's savoring every second of it. You can't help the way your breath hitches, the way your body betrays you, pressing into his touch even as your face burns with embarrassment. Anaxa chuckles, low and knowing, his grip tightening just enough to make you gasp. "Shy thing," he murmurs, rolling your nipple between his fingers. "Always acting so sweet, but look at you. Letting me touch you like this. Clinging to me like you don't want me to stop."
cw. fem reader. eighteen+ minors do not interact. makeouts and dry humping. nothing too explicit. just DH being a good friend. hint at reader being inexperienced.
word count. 1.8k words. ₊ 𓂃 return to masterlist.
“Are you really sure about this?”
“I don’t know, but it’s best to just get it out of the way anyway.” Dan Heng can pick up on your uncertainty when you break your gaze away from his to answer. The atmosphere in the room is already thick and suffocating as you rest side by side on the bed, and his fingers almost seem frozen from where they rest just short of yours on the mattress between you both.
“I would frankly prefer if you told me plainly.” He swallows thickly, as if he is faring any better than you are.
“Yes, okay! I’m sure, are you sure you want to do this?” Maybe it was stupid of you to ask Dan Heng to teach you how to kiss — though your request had originally been meant as nothing more than a joke, it seems to have grown into something completely different now. You had never expected him to actually accept, but even just looking at him now makes your face burn and the nerves are enough to make you feel restless.
But maybe that could be the anticipation.
“Maybe I could ask Sunday instead.” You think aloud, gaze falling to your lap as a means to avoid Dan Heng’s sharper one— yet he doesn’t give you much time to ponder upon the thought.
“Don’t.” His response comes so quickly it almost cuts you off, so he clears his throat before continuing. “No need, I doubt he will be much help. Pom-pom keeps him quite busy around the Express.”
“Oh… okay.”
Your words whisper, your mind far too focused on the way Dan Heng’s fingertips have finally closed the distance between yours following the explanation. Now resting over them on the mattress and it brings your gaze to his for a single breathtaking blink. The eye contact is enough for him to have to turn away, yet that only reveals the way the tips of his ears have flushed pink.
It feels even more awkward now, so you break the silence yourself.
“Should we start then?”
“If you say so.” Dan Heng’s posture appears to perk up a little straighter at that and it urges him to come to face you again. He twists his body towards you this time, enough for his knees to press against your own and even just that slight touch is enough to make your lips pull into a nervous line.
He picks up on that too.
“I suggest you try relaxing, don’t overthink it.” His right hand comes up softly to press beneath your chin, the other still resting over your fingertips as your eyes squeeze shut.
“It’s hard not to.” You keep your eyes closed but you feel Dan Heng get closer when the mattress dips.
“I’ll guide you. Just follow my lead.” His hand beneath your chin tilts you slightly, and the first press of his lips against yours is soft at first.
It’s a simple peck — nothing crazy or breathtaking, it’s fleeting and tender, yet enough to make you flush even warmer as the hammering in your chest seems to up its pace. A gentle start that doesn’t last too long before Dan Heng’s pressing another against you again and this time, he stays there for a bit longer.
The fingertips tilting up your chin move to clasp along your jaw next, holding you in place as he twists himself into you and you do as he tells you — following his lead when his mouth begins to move against yours. Your technique is clumsy at best but he doesn’t chastise you for it, he’s patient and forthcoming and you can’t help but find yourself leaning in a bit more.
You appreciate how soft Dan Heng’s lips are as he presses them into you, nosing at your cheek as he deepens the kiss a bit more and you feel short on air when his mouth opens up more for yours. “Open wider.” He asks against you, and you comply.
You both share another breath, as his fingertips around your jawline squeeze — stroking along the skin there until the next push of his lips against yours is accompanied by the wet press of his tongue between them. And the surprising shock of arousal it makes twist in your abdomen is enough to make you gasp.
He pulls away at that, “Was it too much?” He asks gently as he continues to stroke his thumb back and forth across your jaw.
You shake your head in his hold, “No! It was fine, I liked it.” and allow yourself to admire him now. He’s more flushed than he was before you began and his eyes take their time flickering between your gaze and your lips as he watches you. His breathing is soft and both of his hands are still on you, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look quite so— kissable.
“What? Is there something on my face?” Dan Heng’s question snaps you out of your thoughts and now you’re the one blurting out an answer.
“No.” You squeak slightly, feeling his hand drop from your jawline to rest on your thighs instead. “It just feels different than what I expected.”
You take a sharp breath before continuing, realising how it sounds, “In a way that makes me want more.” You feel hyper aware of the weight of his palm on your thigh, and you can’t help but fidget beneath it when he opts to stroke at your skin. You assume he means it as a way to soothe any of your anxieties, he was always considerate in that way — but right now it’s only making your arousal even worse.
“I see.” Dan Heng looks like he’s considering something, yet his eyes haven’t once left you. “It is certainly tempting.”
“Can we keep going?” You wonder if your sudden enthusiasm comes as a surprise to him, but he doesn’t seem to comment much on it even if it does. He just squeezes at your thighs, like a wordless sign of his approval before he responds anyway.
“Now it’s your turn then.”
You nod at that before shuffling yourself a bit closer, and for the first time you decide to reach out to touch him too — you overthink where to place your hands for a moment but ultimately opt to settle them on his shoulders. A position that Dan Heng seems to appreciate as he gives you another gentle blink.
Then he’s kissing you again, straight back into where you both left off but there’s no easing into it now, you even feel more confident this time round. You allow him to lead again, twisting your mouth into his and this time when his tongue presses between your lips, you don’t jump — you press in deeper, meeting it with your own and it’s all so wet and breathtaking that you can’t help but whine.
It’s an accidental sound, part of you almost pulls away out of embarrassment but there’s a change in Dan Heng that wills you to stay.
His hand on your thigh squeezes, inching up a bit higher until his thumb is pressing between the two of them and the back and forth stroke against somewhere so close to being intimate almost makes you quake. His tongue grazes along yours again and you feel his breath along the roof of your mouth, panting heavily as you press yourself in a bit closer.
Until your restless form decides to do something a little brave.
You’ve done your fair share of research into this— seen and read about the different positions that people favour for make out sessions and kisses. So you don’t think twice before the heat of the moment suddenly brings you up to crawl into Dan Heng’s lap.
You half expect him to stop you, to pull you away from him and tell you that this may be getting a bit too advanced for your beginner self but he doesn’t. Instead, he helps you with his hands on your hips and he does it so seamlessly you don’t even have to break from the kiss to get comfy.
It feels even better now — your hands are in his hair, stroking through the dark roots and Dan Heng shows his appreciation for it with a particular deep press of his mouth into yours.
Your mind feels hazy and full of cotton as you lose yourself in him, pressing your chest closer until it’s almost flush with his and you don’t even mean to grind yourself down on him. It’s like your body does that on its own and it’s enough to make your friend beneath you groan into the next wet press of his lips before his fingers dig into your skin.
You like it, you really like it — you feel so warm and terribly flustered but it’s only fuelling your movements. It makes you feel even braver again.
So you experiment, sucking Dan Heng’s lower lip between yours this time — you’ve seen it in clips and movies online, and it seems to be well received. Maybe too much so, when it makes his hands press up beneath the hem of your shirt, sinking into your waist as if he’s trying to stop you from getting carried away. But when the next hump of your hips allows you to feel the clothed, hard press of his cock beneath you.
You think him trying to stop you may be more for his own sake.
“You’re moving too much.” He finally gasps, muffled against your mouth but you hear him fine, whining.
“You don’t like it?”
“That is not what I meant.” Dan Heng’s hands on the bare skin of your waist feel like they burn you, and they only seem to make you continue to hump and twist your hips into his. As if you’re moving in time with the movement of his lips and he doesn’t seem to want you to stop enough to actually stop you.
Especially not when his cock seems to be straining so deliciously against the fabric of his slacks, and the friction seems to be doing wonders for the both of you as you grind your clothed cunt down on it.
“It’s best not to provoke me.” Dan Heng’s voice seems much more gruff when he presses it into your mouth this time and part of you wants to twist your hips even harder just to hear it again. But you relent, not wanting to get too ahead of yourself — you’re already burning too hot.
But he doesn’t stop there, not at all — instead, his hands seem to tuck themselves beneath the waistband of your pants. The touch enough to make yourself press even closer into him and it’s only when his fingers sink into the top of your ass that he seeks to take back control. He’s supposed to be the one teaching you after all, so he’s sure to remind you of that when he pulls away for a moment to take his next staggered breath.
“Since you seem to know what you’re doing now, I’ll have to work harder to keep the upper hand.”
