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𝓛𝓾𝓶𝓲 - 𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓅𝓁𝓊𝓈 𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑔
⤷ certified sae fangirl
☆.｡.:* masterlist ⭒ before you interact ⭒ tags .｡.:*☆
⤷ requests are open ⭒ taglist sign up
©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works
Anonymous asked:
Hello, I'm a shy reader >.<
I couldn't find it so I try my luck. Of course ignore it of ya requests aren't open.
If yes, would it be possible to write some really dirty NSFW for Karasu where he has a degeneration and praise kink? 🍋
HIII i'm back from the trenches (kinda)
hope i got what you were looking for, feel free to let me know!
ruined for you ft. Tabito Karasu
・❥・smut mdni, it's hard to tell whether karasu loves or hates you when he's balls deep inside of you
you don't even remember how it started. doesn't matter. what matters is karasu's cock splitting you open from behind, one gloved hand pressed flat against your lower back like he's making a point. you're already so far gone you can barely hold yourself up on your elbows.
"pathetic," he breathes, it sounds almost fond. almost. "look at you."
you whimper. he thrusts deeper, hips snapping sharp and exact and the wet slap of skin fills the room like a second voice.
"can't even take it properly." he clicks his tongue, but his grip on your hip tightens, the leather of his glove cool against your flushed skin, possessive in a way that makes your stomach clench. "thought you could handle me. that's genuinely embarrassing."
"k-karasu—"
"shh." he leans over you, chest almost brushing your back, his mouth just behind your ear. "you were going to say something? go on. let's hear it."
you open your mouth and nothing coherent comes out. just a broken little sound, high and wet, because he rolls his hips at just the right angle and you see white.
"mhm." satisfied. smug. "that's what i thought."
but then his thumb finds your clit, pressing in slow circles and his voice drops. shifts. like there's another person underneath the sharp edges of him.
"you're doing well," he murmurs, barely audible. "so perfect f'me"
it hits you harder than the degradation. his praise always does, maybe because it's so rare, maybe because when karasu calls something good he actually means it. no empty compliments, just the truth from the mouth of someone who never bothers softening things.
"t-too good, it's— hah—" you stammer, trying to say something stupid about how it's too much, but he doesn't slow down. he speeds up.
"it's all you, baby," he says, clinical and cutting, fucking you through every word. "you're so tight around me."
you sob. actually sob. shoulders shaking, face half-buried in the pillow, tears and drool and the animal sounds you've stopped trying to muffle all whilst karasu watches. you can feel it even without looking, those blue eyes cataloguing every small collapse of your composure like he's reading the field from above.
"you're leaking," he observes, thumb circling faster. "everywhere. all over me. filthy slut." a pause, his cock grinding deep, stationary for one brutal moment that makes your thighs tremble. "my filthy, pretty slut."
"i can't— nghh— please—"
"please what. use your words."
"wanna— wanna come, please, karasu—"
he hums, considering, the bastard. like he hasn't already decided. like this is still up for debate.
"fine," he says. "since you asked nicely. you've been taking me so well." that last part delivered so quietly you almost miss it under the noise of your own breathing.
his thumb presses harder. his hips find a rhythm that's less calculated now, more desperate, the composed surface of him finally starting to crack at the seams and you can hear it in his breathing too. the catch, the roughness, the way he exhales your name once like he didn't mean to.
you come apart. messily, completely, clenching around him so hard he curses under his breath, something short and sharp. he follows suit, burying himself to the hilt with a stuttered thrust and going still.
a short moment passes before you feel him pull out slowly, hear the quiet sounds of him composing himself whilst you just lie there in the wreckage of it. thighs slick, sheets damp beneath you, cheek sticky against the pillow. your mascara is everywhere. you can feel it.
his gloved hand smooths up your spine. once. slow.
"you did well," he breaks the silencer, cupping your cheek with his hand
you turn your head enough to look at him. he's not looking at you, he's looking just past you, jaw set, mole under his eye catching the light, that careful expression he wears when something got too close to the real version of him.
"karasu."
"don't," he says. flat. but he doesn't move his hand.
you smile into the pillow. wrecked and dazed and entirely undone, and smiling, because he's still there. gloved hand on your back like an anchor. or maybe a confession.
Taglist: @inu1gf @143-ilyuu @irethepotato @mikemsmm @bbladie @sky-casino @thetwinkims @elemayooooooo @angelhqlo1111 @valberryboos @yazjvea @calypsolstice
©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works
𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓴𝓪𝓲 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻 𝓡𝓪𝓲𝓵 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽
nsfw:
・❥・static - phainon
©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works
static ft. Phainon
・❥・2k words - smut mdni he's obsessed with you, you're his favourite streamer. and it seems you've taken quite the liking to him too
phone sex, surprisingly a lot of plot, maybe ooc phainon for a bit (very shy at the start), texts are indicated with italic (good luck trying to figure out who's who)
you'd been streaming for three hours when the donation popped up.
khaslana_xiv donated 200$: "you're literally so funny i can't breathe. peak once again."
your chat absolutely lost it. hundreds of messages rolling past, mostly emojis, mostly people calling him down bad. you laughed, genuine and a little surprised, leaning into your mic.
"khaslana! oh my god, thank you so much that's so sweet!" you were grinning. chat was feral. someone typed HE'S DOWN ABSOLUTELY BAD and another followed it with marry him.
you knew the name. hard not to. khaslana_xiv was in almost every single stream, always in the top of the leaderboard, always with donations that made your eyes go wide. he didn't spam chat or act like a creep. just showed up, consistent, tipped generously and occasionally said something earnest enough to make your whole face warm.
after the stream ended you sat in the dim blue glow of your monitor for a moment. pulled up the donation history just to look.
khaslana_xiv. two hundred tonight, one fifty last week, a hundred the week before that. comments always clean. always kind.
you chewed your lip.
then you sent him a discord request.
he accepted within four minutes.
#honkai star rail#hsr phainon#phainon#khaslana#honkai star rail smut#hsr smut#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#hsr x reader#hsr x you#phainon x reader#khaslana x reader#phainon hsr#phainon smut#phainon x reader smut#phainon x you#hsr phainon x reader#khaslana smut#khaslana x you#khaslana hsr#hsr khaslana x reader#phainon x y/n#x reader#hsr x y/n#honkai star rail phainon#amphoreus#star rail#ambrose.fics
𝓕𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓶𝓼
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- 𝒷𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝒸𝓀
⤷ sfw + nsfw, 25+ works
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- 𝒽𝑜𝓃𝓀𝒶𝒾 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇 𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓁
⤷ nsfw, 1 work
archive here
©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works
salt and ruin ft. Sae Itoshi
・❥・smut mdni no one can say no to sex on the beach. especially sae. especially when you're basically begging for it
the beach was empty. nobody for miles, just white sand and black water and a sky full of stars that didn't care about either of you.
you'd pushed him first. some dumb remark about his footwork, teasing him in that way you knew got under his skin, and he'd gone so quiet and still beside you that you almost felt the air change temperature. you knew that quiet. it wasn't calm. it was the two seconds before a storm decides what it's going to destroy.
he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down onto the sand without a word.
"sae—"
"shut up."
not angry, exactly. just done.
his hands were at your shorts before you could say anything else, yanking the waistband down with the kind of efficiency that came from zero patience and zero interest in drawing this out slowly. the night air hit the inside of your thighs and you shivered, and he watched you do it with those flat teal eyes that gave nothing away.
"cold?" he asked.
"no."
"good." he pushed your thighs apart and looked at you. just looked, for a long moment, the way he assessed a pitch. clinical. bored. like you were a problem he was about to solve very easily. "you talk so much shit," he said, almost to himself. "let's see how much noise you make now."
her favourite ft. Rin Itoshi
・❥・2.3k words - smut mdni. dilf!rin, major daddy kink. his daughter loves you, turns out it runs in the family
an: mannn i love this. i always prefer my longer fics but im so damn lazy to write them </3 anyways i hope everyone likes this as much as i did
- rin itoshi at thirty-two looks nothing like you expected a father to look. you'd built up this image in your head, something soft and tired and domestic, the kind of man who wears sensible shoes and talks about mortgage rates. instead he opens the door in a grey training shirt with the sleeves cut off and you forget what your own name is for a solid three seconds. taller than you remembered. leaner but with weight to him now, muscle that sits differently on a grown man than it does on a boy. his daughter maya is already pulling you inside by the wrist before you've even said hello and rin just watches from the doorway with those quiet teal eyes, that same curtain of dark hair falling across his face. "thanks for coming," he says. flat. polite. nothing. and yet you feel it somewhere low in your stomach, an ache that has absolutely no business being there.
- maya adopts you immediately and without your consent. she's six, loud, obsessed with football like her father and convinced that you are, in her own words, "the prettiest person i've ever seen ever." rin watches her drag you to her room to show you her sticker collection and you glance back over your shoulder at him. his expression is doing something complicated. not quite a smile. close, though. you'll spend the next three weeks trying to figure out what it means.
- you start coming round twice a week. your mum asks rin to sort out some paperwork for you, something to do with contracts and agents and the administrative chaos of the football world your family has always orbited. it's an excuse, mostly. you both know it. maya is the official reason. maya, who requests you by name, who taught you her favourite card game, who falls asleep against your shoulder on the sofa while some animated film plays quietly on the television. and rin sits across from you in the armchair, looking at the two of you with an expression you aren't supposed to see and you pretend you're watching the screen.
- the first time you notice him noticing you, you're in the kitchen looking for a glass. you've reached up into the cabinet, shirt riding up your back and you hear him stop in the doorway. just stop. you take your time finding the glass. you hear him breathe. then he moves again and says "second shelf on the left" in a completely normal voice and pours himself a coffee and you think maybe you imagined it. you didn't. you didn't imagine it at all.
- maya calls you "pretty rin" once, by accident, a confused combination of your names and it makes rin set his jaw so hard you can see it from across the room. later, after she's in bed, he says "she talks about you constantly" without looking at you, like it's a warning. "i know," you say. and then, because you're shameless: "do you?" he looks at you then. properly. and the silence stretches out longer than it should before he says, "go home." not unkindly. but firmly. like he's talking himself into it as much as you.
- he's not a man who touches carelessly. you figure that out fast. everything rin does is deliberate, even stillness, even restraint. so when his hand catches your elbow in the hallway one evening, just steadying you after you stumble on the rug and he holds it a beat longer than necessary, you feel it everywhere. his thumb sitting against the inside of your arm. not moving. just there. "careful," he says quietly. and you look up at him and you're close, closer than you've been, and his jaw does that tight thing again and he lets go.
- you make the move on a wednesday, actually. not that the day matters.
