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18 || requests open! || divider by strangergraphics

[swansloves]

In the sea of stars…

⋆｡°✩ Swan. 18. They/she. INFP. Autistic. ✩°｡⋆

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[swansloves]

oough i need to write smth

[chai-writes-stuff]

cramps — lohen x reader, suggestive, drabble

summary — lohen hates seeing his pretty girl suffer. this month, he decides to do something about it.

themes — established relationship, suggestive ending, attempt at humor, period fic, fluff, a lil domestic

WC: 756

No matter how hard Lohen tried, he wouldn’t be able to fight the enemy that taunted you this time. Or so he had initially thought. After some careful digging on his part, he had stumbled upon an avenue that was perfect for you.

Though, maybe not so perfect for him.

“Lohen, are you—?”

“I’m good!” he said quickly, shooting upright from the table he was keeled over moments prior. “Super good! How’s…how’s things going, Bun?”

“You…really didn’t have to do that,” you replied with a frown. “I’m used to the cramps, so—.”

“Cramps? What cramps? Psh!” Lohen waved his hand in the air, grinning from ear to ear. “This is nothing, Bun! I’ve faced way worse pain and suffering in Nod-Krai. I’m fine, really! Really.”

The longer he grinned at you, the worse the sweat on his brow became. You frowned, your eyes running up and down the length of his body as he sat before you, upright and grinning at your kitchen table. His fingers drummed against the dark wood as time stretched on, and when another stomach-clenching cramp wracked through him, he gripped his hand into a fist and stifled a groan.

“Lohen,” you said, “come here.”

Immediately, he rose from his chair. Placing his hand in yours, he let you lead him to the couch, where you forced him to lay. Lowering yourself onto your knees, you grabbed a pliant plastic pack, disguised as a pyro slime. When you placed it on his lower abdomen, warmth spread through his core.

“Oh,” he said immediately. “ Yeah, that’s…that’s a bit better.”

He sighed, his eyes fluttering shut. You laughed, soft and quiet. He felt your hand on his face, stroking his cheek, and pressed himself further into your touch.

“I can’t believe you,” you said. “Enduring a Hexenzirkel trial, just to transfer my period cramps to you? I’m touched, but…it’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?”

His lips parted for his grinning teeth. “Nah, Bun. I think it’s the bare minimum.”

“If that’s the bare minimum,” you laughed, “then I’d hate to see what you’d say to other couples.”

He opened his left eye, smirking at you. The way you smiled at him made his cheeks flush with warmth, his heart seeped in the joy of knowing that, for at least one month, you wouldn’t be terrorized by those awful menstrual cramps of yours.

“Who cares about other couples?” he purred. “I just care about you and me.”

You laughed again, stroking his cheek under your warm fingers. Smiling at him so tenderly that it made his heart hurt, you said, “Me too.”

You leaned your head down, kissing him with your grinning lips. Lohen reached for the back of your head, keeping you pressed against him as he laughed. Digging his teeth into his lower lip, he stared after you with a smile, sweet throbs of dull, aching pain accompanying his pleasure.

“Honestly, I kinda like the cramps. We should do this every month.”

“You can’t pester the Hexenzirkel every month,” you replied with a giggle. “Though it’s sweet of you to want to try.”

“They have the right to say no, if they wanna. I’ll still ask though.”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Even now, it seems like you weren’t expecting it to be like this.”

“Hurts like a bitch,” he answered, the corner of his grin twitching. “But you know me, Bun. When has a little bit of pain ever stopped me from doing something?”

Lips closed, you laughed through your nose. “As far as I know, never.”

“Uh-huh.” He pulled your hand to his mouth, giving your palm a kiss. “So let your tough boyfriend handle this, alright? There’s no reason for you to go suffering every month if I can do something about it.”

“Hm? But before, you had other methods for it, didn’t you?”

He giggled, grazing his teeth along the inner aspect of your wrist. Talking into your skin, he asked, “What, you miss ‘em?”

Your eyes strayed from his, but your smile remained. “They weren’t bad.”

Playfully, he licked your pulse point. “You don’t have to be cramping for me to eat you out, Bun. You’re still bleeding, aren’t you?”

Your eyes fell closed. Lowering your head, you smiled, and rather shyly, nodded.

“Let me take care of that, then,” he purred. “I’ll get you real clean.”

“Stop,” you said, your words contrasting that wide grin of yours.

“Come on, princess,” he crooned, grinning against the skin of your forearm. Pointing at his face, he purred, “Your throne awaits.”

a/n: have the other drabble i wrote when i was on my period xD i thought it'd be funny if lohen transfers your cramps to him... and also hella sweet T_T ♡ ofc i am a firm believer that lohen likes period sex too. teehee. oh yeah im also trying new formatting cause i wanna look like the cool kids hehehhh...yeah T_T anyway... if you would like to be tagged whenever i post genshin drabbles/wips/teasers, please check my rules here! thank you! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ 🍵chai sippers🍵 @captaintucki, @astralgleam, @windsgasp, @pwushizz, @yenyentan @ariaontheplanetsv6, @viviolettee, @agathawells, masterlist | ask | ao3 | more of this pair

[swansloves]

do i give alpha or omega vibes this is important

[chai-writes-stuff]

size | lohen x reader | Suggestive | drabble

summary: you're on your period, fighting for your life against your cramps, so you ask lohen to grab you some tampons from the store. of course, he can't ever do things the normal way. themes: modern!AU, attempt at humor, established relationship, lohen is trying his best, sex-master!lohen (iykyk), suggestive ending, lohen is a potty mouth be warned, meme inspired, sex jokes, they're in love your honor ♡ word count: 565

Whenever you asked Lohen to do something for you, he’d drop whatever he was doing to address your needs then and there. No questions asked—just plain obedience to the woman who ruled his life.

Maybe he should have asked for clarification on this one though.

“Light…? Super…? Super plus?”

He grumbled to himself as he perused the pink-packaged products in Aisle 17. Rubbing his chin between his fingers, he glanced between the various boxes of pads and tampons with a raised eyebrow. Every box had a different size in the corner, but all you had asked him for was “tampons”. No extra descriptors of the sort.

He figured he should text you.

“What…size…” he mumbled, his thumbs tapping the words into his phone screen, “is…that…pussy?”

Before hitting send, he stopped in his tracks. As a certified expert of all things sex, shouldn’t he have known what size your cunt was? He had been in it more times than he could count, so surely he could come to his own conclusion. You’d be so impressed with him when he showed up with a box of tampons that were not too small, not too big, but just right for his favorite princess.

“Aw, yeah,” Lohen said, grinning. “That pussy’s definitely super plus.”

Right as his hand touched the pack of tampons, his eyes shifted to the one beside it. The light tampons displayed a smaller image on the front, and in comparison to the super plus ones, they looked about as wide as his pinky.

Hold on, hold on. Sure, your cunt was super heavenly and all, but weren’t you tight as fuck? Maybe light was the better option, to not put too much strain on you. You already crumbled to tears whenever his dick was in you, so you probably needed some rest between fuckings.

Light, then. Yep, that’d be perfect for you.

God, you loved Lohen, but he was a real idiot sometimes.

“Lohen. Tampon sizes are for flow, not the size of my vagina.”

“Huh?” he asked. “But super plus looked so big! The only thick rod you need to be stuffing into yourself…is me. Heh.”

He looked quite proud about that one, smirking at you like the arrogant man he was. Face bathed in a blazing heat, you groaned. Pressing your face into his chest, you listened to the lilting of his laughter and eventually smiled.

“Thanks for trying,” you murmured. “It’s partially my fault for not telling you, so sorry…but next time, just get the super plus ones, okay?”

“Fuck. I knew I should have gotten those ones.” Lohen grasped your elbows and gave you a cheeky smirk. “‘Cause that pussy’s superb.”

You laughed, shaking your head against him. “You are so stupid.”

“Hey, Bun,” he crooned, “I’m not afraid of a little blood, you know? Sure, I didn’t get your super mega tampons or whatever…but if you wanna feel a stretch, I’ve got something else for ya.”

You snorted. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably a lot less sex.”

“Lohen.”

He laughed before sweeping his arm under you, lifting you into his arms. Carrying you towards the staircase like a princess, he purred, “Orgasms are great for period cramps, you know?”

“Did you Google that?” you asked fondly.

He closed his eyes. “…Yeah.”

You smiled against the crook of his neck. “I love you.”

He chuckled. “Love you more, Bun.”

a/n: i fear sex master lohen is becoming part of the chai-verse... as is google master lohen... i apologize for the corny jokes i just can't help myself... anyway, this is a drabble i wrote when i was on my period a few days ago xD if you liked it, please consider givin' this post a heart! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ if you would like to become a chai sipper and get tagged whenever i post genshin drabbles/quickies/wips/teasers, please check my rules here! thank you! 🍵chai sippers🍵 @captaintucki, @astralgleam, @windsgasp, @pwushizz, @yenyentan @ariaontheplanetsv6 masterlist | ask | ao3 | more of this pair

[swansloves]

[chai-writes-stuff]

natural selection | lohen x reader | NSFW | oneshot

summary: your mother told you that a good bunny never trusts a hare. you're sorry, but you can't be the good girl she wanted you to be. themes: hybrid-canonverse!AU, hybrid-hare!lohen, hybrid-bunny!reader, breeding kink, teasing, bunny mannerisms, dry humping, mating press, standing sex, light humor, porn with feelings, smut and angst, they're in love your honor ♡ word count: 2.7k

It had been approximately seven days since you made accidental eye contact with a hare. Coincidentally, it had been approximately seven days since you were last able to catch a break.

“Too slow!” Lohen exclaimed. “Seriously, Bunny, try a little harder, won’t you?”

Your head whipped around desperately, trying to find the inconspicuous hare’s voice within the dense woods surrounding you. The floppy set of bunny ears on your head were no match for those of Lohen’s—a pair of hare ears that stood straight and were able to detect sound like no other. Feeling your heart pound against your ribcage, you were entrapped by the dire sensation of fight or flight. To run meant to invite him to chase, but to fight was certainly going to end in disaster. What was there for you to do other than to stand paralyzed, unsure of when or how Lohen was going to torment you this time?

“Boo!”

You screamed when you heard his voice, and with a maniacal laugh, he barreled into you. The momentum of your collision sent you both tumbling across the earthen ground, snapping branches and crushing fallen leaves in your wake. Your head was spinning by the time you stopped, that frustrating hare pinning you to the ground beneath him with a cocky grin on his face. You could already feel the bulge in his trousers, pressing into you as he leaned closer.

“You’re terrible at this,” he said, laughing. “Can’t you make the hunt a little more fun?”

“No!” you replied in a sputter. “I didn’t agree to it in the first place!”

“You think you’re gonna be agreeing to it if some other hare catches a whiff of you? If anything, you should be thanking me. It’s great training.”

Your chest heaved with erratic breaths. Staring up into his crimson eyes, your legs squirmed around his hips, heels digging into the mossy ground. Lohen watched you with his shiteating grin, letting you rut against him as your instincts overwhelmed your sensibilities. Rather whiny about it, you wailed, “What kind of mate are you?!”

“Oh, so now I’m your mate.”

“You’re the one who went and decided it!” you sputtered. “Be responsible for your actions!”

“I didn’t decide anything. All I said was that you’re a bunny and I’m a hare. It’s literally in our nature to fuck like crazy, so why not fuck each other?” His teeth peeked through his grin, one of his tall hare ears twitching as if it were nodding in agreement. “Less risky that way, yeah?”

You fervently shook your head. “Don’t talk to me about risk! You’ve put my life in danger for your ego ten times already!”

“Hey, hey—I’d never put you in danger,” he replied stubbornly. “I just use you to attract danger. I love messing with those horny rabbits that come running after you. It’s great entertainment. But,” he said, eyes twinkling, “I’d never let them touch a hair on your pretty little head, Bunny.”

“So then why do I have to train for it?!” you whined. “If you’re going to handle them anyway, then cut the theatrics and fuck me when I ask you to!”

“Jeez,” Lohen said, wincing. “Someone’s needy. To think just yesterday you smacked me for grabbing your ass.”

“You grabbed my ass in public!” you growled. “At work! In front of so many knights!”

“So? How else are they gonna know you’re mine?”

“You are so irritating!”

Your nails clambered for purchase along his shoulders, your hips humping against the curve of his lap. Wetness spread through your undergarments, soaking into the crotch of his pants as you repeatedly mashed yourself into him. Lohen watched you struggle, snickering as he saw fit.

How did you even end up like this? You were simply a new addition to the Knights of Favonius’s ranks, and not even as a member of the militia force. Your role was one that was both simple and safe, a career path that your parents had always desired for you. Your mother had warned you time and time again that a good bunny remained out of the line of fire, kept her head down, and did not get entangled with hares.

“Lohen,” you were whining, tears streaming down your cheeks. Your cunt throbbed, your hips flailing up against his. “Please, I need you.”

“Oh? ‘Need’s a strong word, Bunny.”

“You motherfucker,” you gasped, nails digging into his coat. “Do you want me to beg? Is that it?”

He snorted. “I think you’re begging plenty already, Bun. I’m just taking in the view, you know?”

“Ngh,” you grunted, hinging your knee forward, then back. Again, you pressed your crotch to his, and your leg moved with a mind of its own, your foot stomping into the ground beneath you. You pressed your eyes shut, feeling a shamed heat spread through your neck and into the tops of your cheeks. Your leg jerked repeatedly, and as your stomping grew faster, Lohen only laughed. Leaning his mouth down to your jaw, his voice ghosted hot across your chin.

“You’re so cute when you start thumping, Bun,” he purred in a low, rumbling voice. “Almost makes me wanna fuck you.”

You thumped your foot again, your heart pounding ten times as hard. Letting out a series of embarrassing, dissatisfied grunts, you wriggled beneath Lohen, your animal instincts flaring through your core. Slick upon slick upon slick—you were far too ready for him, but just like a troublesome hare, Lohen did not abide you. Your nails clawed at the fabric of his cape, tears budding the corners of your eyes when your angered grunts mixed with needy whimpers.

What would your parents think if they could see you now? What would your mother; the woman who warned you about hares since you were a child; say, were she privy to how attached you had become to one? You were supposed to be your parents’ golden bunny, yet here you were—laying on the forest floor with a hare on top of you, pleading for him to fulfill your carnal desires.

The worst part was that you didn’t care. Let your parents weep over their disappointment of a daughter. Whenever this hare set his hands on you, you felt alive.

“Please,” you were whispering, high-pitched and breathy. “Lohen, please, I—ngh.” Another involuntary thump of your foot. “I want you.”

He chuckled against the soft of your floppy ear. Giving you a playful nibble, he whispered, “Good job, Bun. I think I like the sound of that a little better.”

You exhaled, your breath shaking as it exited your throat. Lohen reached down to his hip, and when you heard the unmistakable sound of his zipper, you whined his name. He glanced at you with those gorgeous red eyes of his, the ones that had gotten you so whipped for him in the first place, and gave you a smirk so coy, you could die for him right then and there.

It wasn’t the fact that he was a hare that had you so entranced by him. It was the fact that that hare was Lohen.

“Lift up for me?” he asked, giving your legs the lightest of touches. You moved in accordance with him, and as he guided you through it, he said, “Uh-huh, like that.”

His teeth poked through his charming smile. Eyes roaming the length of your body, Lohen purred, “Good girl…you’re so flexible.”

Your knees quivered by your head. Truly, you weren’t built to bend or twist like this, but for Lohen, you would try.

“So pretty,” he murmured, his hands stroking the backs of your upturned thighs. His eyes were trained on your cunt, a flush of red decorating his grinning face. “Are you as wet as I think you are, Bun?”

Desperately, you nodded.

He relinquished a close-lipped laugh. “Guess I’ll have to be the judge of that.”

The sensation of his hot glans against your slick folds sent you curving back into the moss. You reached for your knees, keeping them held back for him, even though your body burned from the strain of it. Making sounds that you’d rather die than hear when you weren’t in a mating state, your toes curled into your flailing feet.

“You’re thumping the air, Bun,” Lohen said, like it wasn’t already obvious. He continued to smear himself up and down the length of your cunt, providing barely enough stimulation to suppress your feral urges. You recalled how full he made you feel, every single night over the past seven days of knowing him, and grunted pitifully.

Hares were generally larger than bunnies—faster and far more powerful, too. Maybe that was why you were so attracted to Lohen, who was lithe like a bunny on the surface, yet so unmistakably hare below the belt. The stretch of his tip against your hole, teasing you, had you sobbing.

“Fuck—me,” you choked out, trying to thump, thump, thump. “Lohen, please. Do something useful, please.”

His sly grin fell from his face. Staring down at you with an open mouth, he began to pant into the air, his ears twitching erratically. Watching your face still, he rubbed his beading head against your sensitive clit, and in a murmur, said, “I wanna breed you so bad.”

That was the thing about hares and bunnies—they both had an insatiable desire to fuck, fuck, fuck—but they weren’t compatible for breeding. That was why bunnies like you were taught to be wary of hares like Lohen, with their silver tongues and promises of sweet nothings. Your whole life, you had been taught that a hare only wanted one thing from a bunny, and that was to use her as he saw fit.

“Bun,” Lohen said, red-faced and gasping. “I wanna breed.”

You couldn’t, and yet—.

“Put it in,” you gasped back. “Lohen, if you want to breed, you have to put it in.”

He let out an odd, strangled noise. Maybe he appreciated the fact that you didn’t point out the obvious, or maybe he was getting influenced by your own state of need. Whatever the case, Lohen’s thick head sank right into your dripping hole, and with a gradual push of his hips, you were full of him.

Were you crying? Were you calling his name? Or were you praying to the Archons above for forgiveness?

“How do you—,” Lohen’s breath hitched. “How do you want me, Bun?”

“Hard,” you slurred. “Hard, Lohen, hard.”

His boots shuffled across the grassy forest floor. Half-squatting over you, Lohen placed his hands to the back of yours, helping you keep yourself ever so delicately folded in half for him. After a glance at you, assessing your comfort level no doubt, he quickly smacked his pelvis to yours.

You were flailing again, your throat hoarse from your cries. Slowly, Lohen’s girth retreated within you, and right when you were just a touch from empty, it shoved into you all at once all over again.

“Lohen,” you were sobbing, your nails digging into your own flesh. “Lohen.”

“Bun,” he panted back. “You’re…so fuckin’ tight.”

The slam of his hips punctuated his sentence. This was almost too much for you.

“Fuck, I…” Lohen hissed aloud. “I want to breed so bad, Bun. Fuck a bunny right…into you.”

With each final word, came another forceful pound of his dick inside of you. Your lower lip was quivering from your sobs and whines, and when Lohen noticed, he squeezed his hands around yours, hesitating.

“How do you want me?” he asked tenderly.

“Harder,” you choked. “Even harder.”

Lohen held you midair. It was unfathomable, how quickly he could fuck you while also supporting all of your body weight in those lean arms of his. You had never doubted Lohen’s strength, but it was times like these that reminded you just how lucky you were to have a hare like him.

Your back was pressed to a nearby tree trunk, giving Lohen the leverage to grunt by your ear. The way he chuffed and whined, nuzzling against your floppy ear with lustful fervor all the while, made your mind feel fuzzier than the ears atop his head. The pound of his hips was relentless, reminiscent of a hare in rut, and as the wet slaps of his body against yours filled the air around you, you worried for a moment that you may attract the attention of any keen-nosed rabbits who happened to wander by.

“Bunny,” Lohen was gasping. “Your pussy feels so good.”

What could you do in response to that, other than grab a fistful of his hair and wail? His breath hitched against your sensitive ear, and in a growling voice, he asked, “You gonna take it?”

Yes, yes, yes—of course you would.

“How much?”

All of it. All of it.

Lohen laughed, that giggle slowly turning into a hot moan. Pounding you so fast that you weren’t sure your womb would make it through this, he dug his teeth into your neck and groaned.

“Bunny,” he mumbled through mouthfuls of your skin, sharp pain mixing with sweet pleasure. “I wanna give you a hare that looks just like you.”

Why did your eyes bud with tears, when you thought about the impossibility of it?

“Fuck, Bun,” Lohen gasped, fucking you so hard your back shifted up the tree with each thrust. “You’d be such a good mom.”

“Please stop,” you sobbed, your nails clambering for purchase in the flesh of his shoulders. “Lohen.”

“You’re gonna give me what I want,” he whispered, the bridge of his nose ghosting against yours, “won’t you, Bun?”

You biologically couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t.

“Yes,” you whined anyway, throbbing and clenching around his plunging dick. “I will.”

His eyes widened. A shadow of darkness cast across his face, and in a soft, tiny whisper, he said, “Thank you.”

His mouth was on yours before you could think to respond. He kissed you hard, filling your mouth with the taste of mint bubblegum, a silly habit of his that you had found quite bunny-like for a hare, but was quickly becoming one of your favorite parts of him. Stretching your arms around his neck, you pulled him in close, the taste of your salty tears dancing between your clashing mouths. There was euphoria, there was longing, and there was a gnawing ache within you—the pain spurred from your inability to meet your mate’s needs.

If only you were a hare, like him. Strong like him, fast like him, able to keep up with his every move the way he was able to keep up with yours. Maybe then things wouldn’t be so hard for you. Maybe Lohen would be happier.

“I love you,” he said when your lips parted, his cheeks as crimson as those sweet eyes of his.

Your lower lip trembled.

“Fuck,” he spat, his eyes fluttering shut. “Here you go, Bunny.”

Dear Gods, this was what you needed. To feel him pumping you full, filling your womb with every last drop of his love for you. To cum from the pure stimulation of his affections; gasping, hot, and blinding; knowing that even if his seed would never take, he loved you.

“Good girl,” Lohen whispered fiercely, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Really good girl.”

“I love you,” you whined back, hiccuping through your sobs. “I wish I could be a mom for you.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry over it, Bun.” He smiled, his eyes softening. “You know I was just saying things, right? I don’t want you to stress over it.”

“I just,” you croaked, “want to give you what you want.”

“…You really do love me.”

You nodded. Lohen chuckled.

“Well. I’m glad you picked me, Bun.”

Your hands smoothed out around his shoulders. He leaned in so close, his smiling lips brushed yours.

“You can do it,” he crooned. “I’ll just fuck you until you can. Sound good?”

You smiled, laughing in spite of your tears. Nodding, you said, “That sounds wonderful, Lohen.”

“One more time then?”

“One more—time!”

Leaning your head against the pine-scented bark, you offered your prayers to Celestia. Once more, your favorite hare began another passionate attempt to complete you, and you couldn’t have been more enamored with him if you tried.

Sure, you may have been a bad daughter. Disobedient and unwise. But whenever Lohen touched you, you never felt anything but the love between you. If that was so wrong, then you didn’t mind being bad at all.

a/n: as soon as i did more research into bunnies vs hares and realized they couldn't mate... i was like shiet lets turn this a lil angsty. p.s. did yall know bunnies thump and grunt when mad? teehee. this is a oneshot that is tumblr-exclusive (for now)! if you liked it, please consider leaving a heart! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ might crosspost it to AO3, but im not sure if i might want to continue this hybrid!AU so i'd rather wait and see first. if you would like to be tagged for my genshin x reader content, please check my rules post! ♡ 🩵⊹ lohen's bunnies Ი𐑼🩵 @windsgasp, @hk-library, @pandasandcreampuffs, @swansloves, @captaintucki, @fionnalovesanimeboys, @konzumeken, @jiaennie, @loonytunesmith, @darealsubreposter, @orphicmasterpeace, @h1ghscore, @narumichii, @lohensn1wifey, @zhongloml, @curiouslilbeast, @thatoneem0kid, @julie0444, @illegalseaweed, @rinsowangiy, @solluxyuriblast, @irrelevant-kermit, @ang3lfall, @kithewanderingme, @thimiko, @prettysweet02, @arisaturn, @agathawells, @kirbykirbx, @aoi-schoenheit, @heavyonsloth, @thatoneem0kid, @s-shsh, @soonette, @rioceanid masterlist | ask | ao3 | more of this pair

[swansloves]

i just took a good ass nap

[swansloves]

✩ hear me out here…ex bf! lohen (chai’s writing got me SO lohen brainrotted)

tw/cw: afab!gn! reader. plus size friendly. unhealthy relationship dynamics. stalking. mutual masturbation. basically he watches u masturbate.

ex bf! lohen, who misses you way too much. you were the one who broke off the relationship, for one reason or another, but he’s still yearning for you. even after months, he continues to watch you from a distance.

ex bf! lohen, who’s practically addicted to the thrill he gets from stalking you. it makes his heart flutter, knowing you’ll be none the wiser to his piercing gaze always trained on you. then it’s like you never left, considering he only got more obsessive when you were actually together.

ex bf! lohen, whose body never stopped craving yours. it’s a little embarrassing to admit, but it’s near impossible for him to get off without you. he’s desperate to feel your syrupy cunt wrapped around him again, to taste it and kiss it too.

ex bf! lohen, who found himself watching through your window while you played with yourself late at night. the sight alone is enough to make his pants feel uncomfortably tight, but he could hear your soft noises if he listened closely too. god, he missed you. but, since you weren’t yet willing to take him back, this was just what he had to do.

ex bf! lohen, who jerks himself off while watching you. it almost turns him on more that you don’t know he’s watching. it usually takes him a while to finish, but this time he’s shooting ropes of hot cum before he even realizes he’s close. but he doesn’t stop, no he keeps going. he isn’t sure when he’s gonna be able to do this again, so he needs to take advantage of the opportunity while he still has it.

ex bf! lohen, who commits the image of you cumming to memory before going home with a satisfied smirk on his face. it won’t be like this for long, he reminds himself. he’ll win you back, he’ll make you love him again.

°˖➴ GRRAAGHH i just needed to make a lohen something i’m gonna go take a nap now

enjoyed my writing? likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

[swansloves]

do we fw my summer blog theme

[chai-writes-stuff]

daddy | varka x reader | NSFW | quickie

summary: something about calling varka "daddy" just felt right. themes: daddy kink, anal, established relationship, age gap (20s-30s vs 40s), knights-of-fav!reader, varka calls ya pumpkin, light humor, lil squirting, jean is tired of y'all word count: 695 thanks @swansloves for the idea! her daddy!varka hc's had me so awgh T_T <3

↓ NSFW CONTENT BELOW ↓

The first time you said it, Varka was eight inches in your ass, making you squirt all over the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck me,” you had sputtered, overwhelmed by the sensation. Then, clawing at the sheets beneath you, you had desperately said, “Daddy.”

It had flown so naturally from your lips, and yet, when you realized what you had said, you burned with embarrassment. Varka’s hips had stuttered, but with another thrust, he groaned and came inside of you.

“Wh…what did you say?” Varka asked, his hips pressed flush to yours.

Your heart pounded in your eardrums. Obstinately, you muttered, “Nothing.”

“I thought you…hm.” Varka paused. “Well…good job, pumpkin. You came, yeah?”

He dropped down onto your back, his warm, heavy body providing comforting pressure against yours. When he kissed your temple, you closed your right eye.

“I squirted,” you mumbled.

Varka let out a loud, hearty laugh. “That’s good, then. You really like anal, don’t you?”

You pressed your smoldering cheeks into the pillow. “Please shut up, Varka.”

He chuckled. “Sorry. Not trying to make fun of you or anything, I promise.”

He kissed you again, gentle on your cheek. Relaxing, you allowed yourself to recall that heated moment. Why was it that you had never even called him that before, but it left your lips like it was his name when he was fucking your brains out?

“Wanna clean up?” he asked.

Quietly, you nodded.

The second time you said it, Varka was two fingers deep in your cunt, fingering you in his lap as he ignored his work duties.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, your head leaning back against his shoulder. “Daddy, please.”

Immediately, you tensed up. Instantly, Varka said, “Aha! I knew I didn’t imagine it last time!”

“I didn’t say anything,” you replied quickly. “Tell me I didn’t say anything, Varka.”

He laughed against your ear, curling his thick fingers into you so far, you were crumbling in his lap. Your hand reached back for his head, gripping his hair in your fist, and against your ear, Varka murmured, “You can call me that if you want, pumpkin.”

Fuck, why did that make you throb? Fuck, were you already cumming?

“Oh,” you whined, soft as you rutted into his palm. “That feels so good, Varka.”

“Daddy,” he replied in a deep rumble.

“Daddy,” you echoed, your eyes budding with pleasured tears. “Daddy, I’m cumming.”

“Mhm.” He kissed your ear. “Good job, pumpkin.”

Your voice slipped up an octave, your body rocking into his thrusting fingers. Eyes flitting open and shut, you dug your nails into his wrist and moaned.

“Good girl,” he said. “I’m proud of you.”

Fuck, Varka, why?

“I’m cumming again,” you sputtered desperately.

“Ha! You’ll make an old man blush, pumpkin.”

Fuck, you loved it when he called you that.

“Kiss me,” you begged, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Daddy, kiss me.”

Without a shred of hesitation, he pressed his mouth to yours. You came around his fingers once again, shuddering in his lap, and Varka’s laugh rumbled through the hollow of your mouth.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Grand Master, it’s Jean. Requesting permission to enter?”

Both you and Varka winced. You knew that Jean only asked permission when she was sure that you two were up to no good behind closed doors.

“Uh,” Varka said loudly, “maybe in ten! I, uh…I’m a bit busy!”

Jean only sighed. “Alright. But please, do remember you have work, Grand Master.”

“She’s right,” you said, when you were sure she was out of earshot. “I shouldn’t have let you get distracted. You have two new treaties to look over, and Sumeru is requesting an audience—.”

“Sorry to interrupt you, sweetheart,” he said, “but could you do an old man a favor?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Help you avoid your work?”

“Nah. Tell me to do it.” His blue eyes twinkled, a charming grin extended from ear to ear. “But call me daddy when you do.”

Your lips quirked into a smile. Stroking your fingers across the scar on his cheek, you purred, “Do your paperwork, daddy.”

“Heh.” Varka gave your hips a firm squeeze, his face pink. “Can’t say no to that, pumpkin.”

a/n: OH GOD I WAS SO EMBARRASSED WRITING THIS... ive actually never written daddy kink but shieetttt i wanted to do it so bad thanks to swan's headcanons xD happy late father's day varka ^q^ this is a lil quickie! if you liked it, please consider leaving a heart! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ if you would like to be tagged whenever i post genshin x reader, comment, message me, and/or send me an ask! you will be notified for full oneshots and chapters only! thank you! ♡ masterlist | ask | ao3 | more of this pair

[chai-writes-stuff]

tremble (i won't judge) [3/?] | lohen x reader | SFW | chapter teaser

summary: he's got you, bunny, and he'll make sure that no one else ever will. themes: developing relationship, yandere!lohen, bunny-girl-hostess!reader, police-detective!lohen, developing character (lohen), true crime elements, psychological, plot with porn (in full) word count: 182 [out of 5.1k written] | fic masterlist | ao3 ver

“Hey,” he says into the receiver, “I’m so sorry, Bun—I got a homicide call. I’m on my way right now. Are you okay?”

His car keys jingle as he withdraws them from his pocket. You take a breath in, your voice shuddering against his ear.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he says, dropping into his black coupe. “You wanna talk to me while I drive?”

Your voice shakes again. When he powers his car on, your voice outputs from the speakers.

“Yeah,” you say. “Please.”

He gets chills. Digging his teeth into his lower lip, he tries to push that thrill aside.

“Talk to me then, pretty girl. What happened?”

He waits with bated breath. As he drives through the nighttime city, alive with cars as always, he hits a red light and listens to the sound of your breath. It surrounds him, soft and shaky, and his skin prickles at the feel of it.

He looks at himself in the rearview mirror. An ear-to-ear, toothy grin sits on his blushing face.

Quickly, he straightens his lips out.

(...)

this is a teaser for Chapter 3 of my 9k fic A Good Bunny Stays in Her Pen [2/?]. if you liked it, please consider reading the full and leaving a like/comment! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ I plan to release Chapter 3 on 7/1! if you would like to be tagged whenever i post lohen x reader, comment, message me, and/or send me an ask! thank you! 🩷⊹ lohen's bunnies Ი𐑼🩷 @windsgasp, @hk-library, @pandasandcreampuffs, @swansloves, @captaintucki, @radiantnothingness, @lumixo, @rainyenchanterweb, @trangmuahe, @viviolettee, @fionnalovesanimeboys, @konzumeken, @jiaennie, @loonytunesmith, @darealsubreposter, @solluxyuriblast, @irrelevant-kermit, @ang3lfall, @kithewanderingme, @thimiko, @orphicmasterpeace, @h1ghscore, @narumichii, @lohensn1wifey, @zhongloml, @xioseu, @radiantnothingness, @shell03, @scaramouchesgoodgirl, @kinkiaan29, @niki-is-a-reblog, @fml7113, @foggypenguincrusade, @lynndt-chocolate,, @nobody-tm, @arunima098, @astralgleam, @nemis1s, @amphitrie, @noirbingey, @curiouslilbeast, @thatoneem0kid, @julie0444, @illegalseaweed, @rinsowangiy, @synghost21, @heyits-you, @lunar-atlantis, @miss-sillygoose, @lixhizy, masterlist | ask | ao3 | fic masterlist | more of this pair

[satoruined]

“hey, can i borrow your phone for a sec?” satoru asks, looping an arm over your shoulder. when you raise an eyebrow, he flashes that blinding smile. “wanna look up that new dessert shop in ginza. the one with the limited-edition parfaits? i’m taking you there the second i’m done kicking sukuna’s ass.”

typical satoru. prioritising his sweet tooth literally minutes away from the greatest battle in jujutsu history. you shake your head, a soft chuckle slipping past your lips as you hand over the device. he taps away furiously for a minute, tongue poking out slightly in concentration, before handing it back with a wink.

-

fast forward to your birthday.

your phone buzzes. it’s a scheduled text from your calendar:

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my favorite person in the entire world !!!! i love you so much. my baby girl (^_^)”

the bright text begins to blur into ugly neon dots as tears hit the glass. you try to wipe the screen, but the moisture keeps coming, smearing his words until you finally just give up. you wish with everything left in you that he was actually here to say it to your face, wearing that stupid, beautiful smile.

but he’s not here.

[swansloves]

i finally got a bra that fits life is good

[swansloves]

✩ alright here’s the daddy kink fic happy father’s day

tw/cw: afab!gn! reader. plus size friendly. daddy kink (obviously). some pseudocest vibes. pussy eating. unprotected sex. riding. mating press.

daddy! varka, who doesn’t really respond to anything else you might call him. the word “daddy” coming out of your sweet mouth is just way too cute to resist normally, let alone when it’s leaving your mouth as a broken moan as he licks up and down your sopping wet pussy.

daddy! varka, who knows he’s attractive. he is very aware of the way you eye his muscles and practically drool at his body. it’s really quite cute when you inevitably get flustered when he calls you out for it.

daddy! varka, who fucking LOVES the way you call him that when you’re breathless beneath him. you wrap around him so perfectly, your gummy walls stretching to accommodate his girth. he usually opts for a slower pace because he doesn’t want to hurt you, but he’ll absolutely go faster if you ask him to.

daddy! varka, who lets you ride him too. his head will fall back and he’ll let out a low groan when you finally sink onto his cock. as much as he likes just folding you in half and having his way with you, you just look so perfect riding like this that he can’t help reaching out to grab you by the hips and guide your pace a little.

daddy! varka, who doesn’t want you to worry about a thing. just sit back and look pretty, let him handle everything else. it sort of makes him sad when he sees you get stressed out, cuz it makes him feel like he’s not doing a good job taking care of you.

daddy! varka, who will always ask for your consent first, non-negotiable. he’s very aware that with dynamics like this, he has power over you. your consent will always be valuable to him, and it’s a big part of how he operates.

[swansloves]

father’s day coming up should i be fucked up and evil about it

[swansloves]

i forgor…need to get back into writing…

[lovinglyjinxed]

IDOL!SUNDAY x F!READER🎤✨️🎵

{DJINX♡!} FIC INSPO: (@sviteer / X) / (@haejjoon / X) / (@sundaenui / X)

HONKAI STAR RAIL | needy sunday | wc: 2.3k | messy | after a show | shh, stay quiet! | against the wall | riding | nicknames | helping him after a hard lonnnnnnng day at work (wait are we still talking about his day?) | multiple rounds | female reader | nsfw, duh

The dressing room door clicks shut behind you with a soft, definitive snick, muffling the distant clamor of crew members shuffling equipment and the echoing cheers from the arena that haven't fully died down yet. The air inside is thick with the scent of his cologne—crisp and metallic, like polished silver under stage lights—mingled with the faint, salty tang of sweat from the encore. He's seated at the vanity, half-turned toward the mirror, his reflection capturing the raw edges of exhaustion that the audience never sees. Those gold contact lenses, so piercing under the spotlights, now look almost fragile in the dim bulb glow, rimmed by smudged black liner that has bled slightly from the heat. His silver hair, artfully tousled for the performance, hangs in longer strands over his forehead, a few sticking to his damp skin. The halo-shaped ear cuff glints faintly, a remnant of his onstage armor, while the tailored white jacket drapes open over his navy shirt, the top buttons undone to reveal the hollow of his throat rising and falling too quickly.

You pause for a heartbeat, your travel bag thudding softly to the floor beside the door, the weight of the transatlantic flight still clinging to your limbs like a second skin. Your casual sweater and jeans feel silly, a stark contrast to his precision-cut ensemble, but you don't care. Crossing the room in hurried steps, your sneakers quiet on the carpeted floor, you reach him before he can fully process your presence. His head snaps up in the mirror, eyes widening in stunned recognition, and then his gloved hands—those soft leather ones he wears for the dramatic flourishes during songs—are reaching for you, fingers curling into the hem of your sweater with a desperation that belies his calm facade.

He pulls you down onto his lap without a word, the vanity chair groaning under the sudden shift of weight. Your thighs straddle his instantly, knees bracketing his hips as you settle against him, feeling the immediate heat radiating from his body. He's still fully dressed, the fine wool of his pants brushing your jeans, but the hardness of his cock is already evident, pressing up through the layers as if seeking you out. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook where his shoulder meets his neck, inhaling the familiar mix of his skin and the faint residue of makeup powder. "I couldn't stay away any longer..." you whisper, your voice a soft vibration against his pulse, which hammers erratically under your lips.

His breath hitches, a shaky exhale that fans across your hair. One gloved hand slides up your back, pressing you closer, while the other cups the nape of your neck, tilting your head so he can nuzzle into your temple. "You... you're really here...?!" he murmurs, his voice low and threaded with disbelief, the polished tone from interviews cracking at the edges. The tour has worn him thin—nights of endless rehearsals, the obsessive tweaking of melodies until they hum perfectly in his head, the isolation of hotel rooms where he stares at your photo tucked into his lyric notebook. He's missed the small things: the way you hum off-key in the shower, the scent of your cooking filling their shared apartment, the quiet moments where he doesn't have to perform. Tonight's show had been flawless on the surface, but that tiny dip in the harmony during the bridge gnaws at him, a perfectionist's curse amplifying his bad mood.

You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "I am. And I'm not going anywhere..." Your words are a promise, and they seem to unravel something in him. His gold-flecked eyes soften, the vulnerability peeking through like sunlight through stage fog. He leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that's anything but rehearsed—messy, urgent, his mouth slanting over yours with a hunger that's been building for weeks. His tongue slips past your teeth on the first press, seeking yours in a slick slide that makes your core clench. He tastes of the mints he pops before every set, cool and sharp, undercut by the warmth of his breath.

You kiss him back with equal fervor, your hands roaming up his chest, fingers slipping under the open shirt to feel the rapid thump of his heart. It's erratic, matching the way his hips shift beneath you, grinding subtly against your center. A soft moan escapes you into his mouth, and he swallows it, deepening the kiss until saliva slicks your lips and chins, the sounds wet and obscene in the quiet room. His gloved fingers tangle in your hair, tugging just enough to expose your neck, and he breaks away to trail open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, sucking lightly at the skin until it blooms pink under his attention.

"Fuckkk, I've needed this..." he breathes against your collarbone, his voice rougher now, the bad mood fracturing as desire surges. His free hand bunches your sweater up your sides, but he doesn't pull it off—keeps it rumpled and in place, the fabric bunching at your ribs as his palm flattens against your bare stomach, tracing the dip of your navel. The leather of his glove is cool against your warming skin, a contrast that sends shivers racing down your spine. You rock your hips experimentally, feeling his cock twitch through his pants, and he groans low, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours.

"Shh..." you hush him gently, glancing toward the door where shadows of footsteps pass occasionally. The crew is still milling about, and a knock could come at any moment, but that risk only fuels the fire. Your hand drifts down between your bodies, palming the thick bulge straining against his zipper. He bucks into your touch, biting his lower lip to stifle another noise, his eyes fluttering half-shut behind those dramatic lashes. "Can't be too loud...!" you remind him, your thumb circling the head through the fabric, feeling the damp spot forming from his pre-cum.

He nods jerkily, but his control is slipping. With a frustrated huff, he yanks at your jeans' button, popping it open and shoving the denim down your hips along with your panties in one rough motion. He doesn't bother fully removing them—just pushes them low enough to pool around your knees, trapping your legs slightly and adding to the hurried, imperfect feel. The air hits your exposed pussy, already slick with arousal, and you whimper softly as he frees his own cock from his pants. The zipper rasps quietly, and then he's in your hand—hot, velvety length pulsing as you stroke him once, twice, smearing the bead of pre-cum over the tip.

No more waiting. He grips your hip, guiding you up just enough to position himself, the blunt head nudging your entrance. You sink down slowly, inch by inch, your walls stretching around his girth with a burn that's pure pleasure. Both of you gasp in unison, your nails digging into his shoulders through the jacket as you bottom out, fully seated with him buried deep. The fullness is overwhelming, his cock throbbing inside you, and you clench experimentally, drawing a hissed curse from his lips.

"So tight..." he mutters, his gloved hand clamping over your mouth to muffle your building moans, the leather pressing firm but not unkind. His other hand digs into your ass, fingers spreading you slightly as he starts thrusting up in shallow, controlled snaps—careful not to make the chair creak too loudly. You match his rhythm, riding him with rolling hips, your clit grinding against the rough weave of his pants where they meet your skin. The friction is delicious, layered with the denim still tangled at your knees, restricting your movements just enough to make each lift and drop more deliberate, more intense.

Your sweater remains bunched high, exposing your bra, and he takes advantage, shoving the lace cups down to free your breasts. His mouth latches onto one nipple, sucking hard while his tongue flicks the peak, teeth grazing just shy of pain. You arch into him, the dual sensations—his cock filling you, his mouth devouring—pushing you toward the edge already. Messy kisses resume when he switches sides, his lips trailing saliva across your chest, nipping at the swell of your breast before claiming your mouth again. Tongues tangle sloppily, breaths mingling in hot pants, his bad mood evaporating with every clench of your pussy around him.

He tugs off one glove with his teeth, the leather whispering to the floor, then slides his bare fingers down to where you're joined. Two digits press alongside his cock, pushing into your slick heat, stretching you further as he scissors them gently. The added pressure makes your walls flutter, a fresh gush of wetness coating him. "Thaaaaaat's it, love... feel me?" he whispers sultry against your ear, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing firm circles that have your thighs quivering. You bite down on his covered shoulder to silence your cry, the fabric of his jacket muffling the sound as pleasure coils tight in your belly.

The pace quickens, your rides growing more urgent, hips slamming down to meet his upward thrusts. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that spongy spot with precision—the obsessive attention to detail that makes him excel onstage now channeled into unraveling you. "Come on my cock, baby..." he urges, voice breaking, his own hips stuttering as he nears release. The words tip you over; your orgasm crashes through you, pussy spasming around his length and fingers, milking him as waves of ecstasy pulse from your core. He follows with a muffled groan, thrusting deep and flooding you with hot spurts of cum, his body tensing beneath you.

But the need in him isn't sated—the tour's toll demands more, a deeper release. He's still semi-hard inside you as he lifts you off him abruptly, a wet trail of your combined fluids dripping down your inner thighs, soaking into the denim. He stands in one fluid motion, pulling you with him, his strength belying the exhaustion etched in his features. Spinning you around, he presses your front to the wall beside the mirror, your palms flattening against the cool, painted surface for balance. The vanity light casts your reflections—disheveled, clothes askew, his silver hair wild, your sweater hiked up like a makeshift skirt.

He doesn't waste time fixing anything. From behind, he hikes your sweater higher, bunching it at your mid-back to bare your skin, while his hand shoves your jeans even lower, exposing your ass. His cock, slick with your arousal, slides between your cheeks teasingly before he notches at your entrance again. One thrust, and he's buried to the hilt, the new angle allowing him to bottom out deeper, his pelvis flush against your ass. You moan into the wall, cheek pressed to the paint, as he starts fucking you with renewed vigor—hard, snapping hips that jolt your body forward with each drive.

"Quiet, love..." he growls low in your ear, his bare hand covering your mouth once more, fingers splaying wide to catch your whimpers. The other hand snakes around your waist, dipping under the rumpled sweater to pinch your nipple, rolling the hardened bud between thumb and forefinger with rough twists that send sparks straight to your clit. His pants chafe against your bare thighs, the clothed barrier heightening the rawness, while your trapped jeans limit your spread, forcing you to take him fully.

He pounds into you relentlessly, the wet slap—plap! plap! plap!—of skin on skin barely concealed by your ragged breaths. His free hand abandons your breast to circle your clit, fingers slippery with cum as he rubs fast, insistent patterns. Your knees weaken, but he bands an arm around your middle, holding you upright, his chest to your back like an anchor. The mirror reflects it all: his gold eyes locked on your face, twisted in pleasure; your lips parted behind his hand; the way his cock disappears into you over and over, glistening with your mess.

Another orgasm builds swiftly, the pressure coiling tighter from the dual assault—his thick length stretching you, his fingers working your clit without mercy. "C'mon baby, give it to me....!" he demands softly, nipping at your earlobe, his breath hot and uneven. You shatter again, walls clamping down hard, a silent scream absorbed by his palm as ecstasy rips through you, leaving you trembling. He grinds deep, chasing his own peak, and spills inside you once more—ropes of cum filling you until it overflows, trickling down your legs in warm rivulets.

He doesn't pull out immediately, staying lodged deep as you both catch your breath, his forehead resting against the back of your neck. Slowly, he eases you both down, turning you in his arms until you're facing him, your back to the wall. His pants are still open, cock softening against his thigh, streaked with evidence of your joining, but he ignores it, pulling you into a tight embrace. Your sweater falls back into place haphazardly, jeans tugged up but not buttoned, the stickiness between your thighs a reminder of the urgency.

"Thank you...y-you don't know how much I missed this, and you..." he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours, gold contacts removing the distance even as exhaustion creeps back in. His hands stroke your hair, gentle now, the vulnerability raw in his expression—no stage persona, just the man who misses you fiercely. You smile, cupping his face, thumbs brushing away a smudge of liner. "Always...!" you reply, knowing this destressing ritual—raw, intimate, unfiltered—will carry him through the next show, the next city, until you're together again.

25# TAGLIST + @bbunnytopia @ouist @robotravanger @blossomvaneu @baguettedefontain @malicenova10 @anqelmeth @xnoau @elizabethclouds @saiiyama @gigglefart4 @swansloves @hanussy2000  @souldeparted @notsoinvincible @skip-111 @iluv2dmenn @joexjtazuna @miffycait @ecliphia @crownohomo @strawberrymrsh @sundaynumber1lover @friesaif @cifera1dle @sleepyditto @kuramassss @ladygreyish @astxr15 @meowingmikept2 @iceychurr @galagarts @hanako-h5 @aireeds @mersoliss @lyambdaa @leafl3ss @hu3sitos @domiiniques  @nox-the-death-cat @whateverthingsw @kimfrancinee @str1fesgirl @loryhn @acidsbeats @kwonthefire @urlocalsabito @neppyyweppyy  @solarizxm @drieddcactus @julielovesnavyblue  @starlitplumes @ellen-qq @lolaof-thevalley @spirit12 @faeriesblog @la-ila-la @the-tired-potato-hani @alt-alune @plumpkie @soulkissesst4r @wrios-milk @fureiart  @creative--crisis @sm0k3x-ad0min @lixhizy @mikusaystransrights @trashlanternfish360 @nobloodonlycoffee @misuzue @kittzu @yaongxixi @simpingeverysecond @electro--storm @gr8jason @dontbother46 @m0bne @sunsettulip @violetesensou @kaelquinsday @p1xistixx @goldenstarlightabyss @xixiliea @alphawolf457 @thycheshire @unkownmaker @toastedlem0ns @sashimees @syrie-slays @anbylover3000 @slutla @tsuyustan @cosmo-cam @starryangxl  @toyaism @sirkalen @unseensolaceprodigy @lucynobody