#「 GLASS HALF EMPTY / GLASS HALF FULL. 」 // ooc.

[catopoliscat]

next time / kento nanami/fem!reader.

who would have thought that kento nanami was a virgin? not you. not after this long. perhaps he was saving himself for someone. perhaps he was waiting for you.

tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. afab reader. penetrative sex. alcohol. dry humping. virgin!nanami. mutual pining. friends to lovers. creampie (wrap it kids). unprotected sex. touch-starved!nanami. canon!verse. you've known nanami since school. tinges of angst. nanami wanted you bad lmao. it's love babey. reader has experience. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever. wc: 7.7k. a/n: i kind of fear nanami's a little ooc here lmao, but i've spent too long on this so fuck it we ball he deserves this

also how mad would you be if i said this was set a week before shibuya arc be honest

mdni.

You’re a bottle and half of zinfandel deep when Nanami tells you. 

Although you’re both a little warm, tipsy perhaps, you didn’t think either of you were quite drunk enough for this conversation just yet. It was a regular occurrence for the two of you to share a drink on a Friday, or a bottle in more pressing times. 

There were more bottles than glasses, lately. 

It was just two old friends, catching up. Talking. Complaining--usually about Satoru. Often you’d reminisce on easier times. Warm summers in the Jujutsu High courtyard, the cold tin of a soda in your hands, a bottle of water in his. Quiet talks of dreams and eventualities. Ignoring the gaping absence of a third at between you. 

Tonight though, you’re not sure when the topic had changed. Somewhere between the last dregs of the first bottle and the beginning of the second, the conversation had grown more sombre than usual. Talk of love and relationships always seemed to make the air heavier around the two of you, for different reasons. A stark air of loneliness that not even the most tart of white wine could overpower.

You had offhandedly mentioned turning down one of the windows you had met on your last mission. He had been younger than you, still full of life where the holes in yourself had long since emptied it out. You had shaken your head, flattered, but tired. There were better options for a man like him, still full of hope and vitality, a whole life ahead of him… when you knew any day yours could be cut deftly short. 

You had told yourself it had little to do with the fact that the man’s bright smile had reminded you of another, so many years ago.  

In the quiet of Nanami’s living room, swirling the last drops of your wine in your glass, you had mentioned that you had no real desire for relationships anymore. Other than sex, of course, but only sexual. A temporary release, one of the few you had left. Nameless faces and hurried touches. Sometimes clinical, sometimes primal. Always quick, and never the same person twice. 

You know?

To which Nanami had replied, “No.” 

Misunderstanding the gravity of what he was saying, you had raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing at your lips. “Not one for one-night stands?” 

It occurs to you distantly that you don’t know a lot about Nanami’s romantic life. Close as you two were, or so you liked to believe, he had never really mentioned it. And you had never asked. 

Nanami had shook his head in response to your question, and you had nodded. It aligned with his character, you thought. As cold and stoic as he liked to act, you couldn’t imagine a world where he would use and discard someone. He felt too much, cared too much. He would love too much too, if given the chance. If he gave himself the chance. 

In your musings, you had almost missed what he had murmured next. 

“I’ve never had sex at all.” 

Kento Nanami. A virgin.

The confession has your lips parting, your eyes blinking. Once, then twice, akin to an owl. You glance down at your wine glass for a moment, as if it had been the slightly smeared glass that had been speaking to you instead, and not the esteemed stoic sorcerer you had known for the better part of ten years. 

You look over at Nanami on the couch, but he’s staring at the carpet, his expression contemplative, almost pensive. His brows are drawn taut, a small knit on his forehead. His lips are drawn into a thin line, a slight crease in his chin. There was a specific emotion dancing in his eyes. You almost dared to use the word vulnerable.

It seems… ridiculous. Nanami? Attractive as he was? Kind, considerate, hard-working, to a degree. A woman’s dream. In another life, perhaps your dream too.

Had it not been for Nanami’s serious demeanour, and the fact that ‘joke’ and ‘Nanami’ rarely went together in the same sentence, you might have thought he was pulling your leg. A joke between friends. 

But he wasn’t. He very clearly wasn’t. 

“That’s… fine,” you finally say after a small moment, fearing you had let the silence linger too long. “There’s no rush for these things.” 

Nanami’s hum is short and clipped. Gruff, almost. He still refuses to meet your eye for now, and you make no move to change that. You get the distinct feeling that this newfound vulnerability doesn’t stem from him never having sex, but rather, the reason why he’s denied himself - because you know for a fact it has little to do with opportunity. 

You had lost track of how many women you had watched Nanami turn down, clipped and short, yet always polite. 

The silence is heavy between you. In the other room, you can hear the hum of his refrigerator, the buzz of the bulbs in the lights. Nanami’s apartment has always been quiet, but this silence feels suffocating. Paired with the wine, your head feels thick, your tongue thicker. 

A few moments pass, and as the revelation of his virginity settles into your stomach like seltzer water, you realise… it makes sense. Nanami wasn’t the type to use someone for sex, even if eager. He’d only have sex with someone he was in love with. Someone he trusted at the very least. 

And Nanami, as he had told you and a few others before, refused to entertain the thought of love whilst he was a sorcerer. No one with two working brain cells needed to ask why. He wasn’t alone in that choice, either. 

You toy with the stem of your wineglass whilst you toy with a reoccurring thought in your mind, one that you entertained often, but had yet to voice aloud. 

“You shouldn’t keep depriving yourself, Kento,” you say quietly. The use of his first name, rarely used in your adulthood, garners you a glance from him. It’s a small sign that you’re taking this seriously. 

“I’m not deprived of anything.” 

You scoff at that, small and quiet. “You deprive yourself of a lot, apart from pain,” you drawl, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table. Like always, the wine and Nanami’s masochistic tendencies have your tongue loosening more than it should. “I understand not wanting to have sex with anyone you’re not in a committed relationship with. It’s kind of… admirable, and definitely you.” You fold your arms across your chest, fixing him with a stare that he still refuses to meet head-on. “But why deny yourself the chance of love?” 

In the back of your mind somewhere is a voice chanting ‘hypocrite’, but you ignore it. Nanami, however, does not. 

He finally turns his head to face you, the lines underneath his eyes seemingly heavier in the dim light of his apartment. An eyebrow arches. “And meaningless sex is different?”

You scoff again, louder this time. “It’s not meaningless just because I don’t love my partner.” 

“Or even know their name?” 

You raise a sharp eyebrow, your own lips now pressing into a thin line. A part of you wants to retort, to snap, but you remember the vulnerability in his face from a few moments ago, and you just about hold your tongue.

With an exhale, you grab the half-empty wine bottle off of the coffee table instead and gesture for Nanami to hold out his glass. He does, and the glug of the wine fills the space between you.

“You ever thought about it?” You ask, filling up your own glass. In your peripheral, you see him sit quietly for a moment before he nods his head. 

“I’m only human.” 

You hum. “You should experience it,” you add. You swirl the wine in your glass once before bringing it up to your lips. “Even once. Even if it means nothing.”  

With one glance, you can tell immediately that the idea doesn’t sit right with him. It was easy to forget sometimes how rigid and traditional he could be. Formalities that few seemed to care about these days. Always on the things you least expected. 

“I couldn’t,” Nanami replies, shaking his head. 

Oddly, you feel the desire to insist. Days of a sorcerer were short, and getting shorter every year. Younger than yourself and Nanami had already died long before they would ever have the opportunity to touch another, kiss another; to feel the warmth of a body against your own. They would never know what that distinct pleasure was like, even if they desperately wanted to. Time was infinite to the young, until it wasn’t.  

It occurs to you quickly that you’re thinking of Haibara, and everything you and Nanami had experienced that he never would. 

Something must show in your expression because Nanami raises an eyebrow at you. You swallow, before setting your glass back down on the coffee table with a dull clink. You look at him, your face surprisingly collected and casual for what you’re about to ask. 

“What about me?” 

Nanami’s questioning look only deepens for a moment, before something passes by his eyes. His lips part, his version of a falter. You know he knows what you’re implying, but still, he asks, “…what about you?” 

“What if we had sex?” You say without hesitation. “You know me. You trust me.” 

Nanami falters further. He straightens in his seat, his glass resting on his thigh, the thick muscle straining against his slacks. His whole body is thick with a tension you usually only see before a fight with a particularly highly graded curse. A vein protrudes from his neck.

His eyes flick between your face and your own glass, clearly wondering if it is time to call this night done, but you rise from your seat before he can, taking a small step toward the couch he’s sitting on. 

You sit down next to him, a little closer than you usually might. He doesn’t move away. Your thigh brushes against his, and this close, you can hear his breath hitch in response. 

“I’m not going to push this any further, Kento,” you say quietly, “but I’m letting you know it’s an option.” 

Although you and Kento were hardly affectionate with one another like most friends, you decided to take a chance tonight. You had already taken several, what was one more?

Reaching out, you take his glass from his hand and set it next to yours on the coffee table. Hesitating only a moment, you place your hand on top of his, your fingers curling around until your fingertips touch his palm.

His hand is stiff and warm underneath your own. The bones and knuckles press against your skin.

Something in the back of your mind is wondering why you’re pushing this at all. Would it matter if Nanami died without experiencing the pleasures of the body, really? Would the world stop turning for either of you? You know if Nanami really wanted to, if he felt the want, the desire - then he could leave this apartment right now and find someone willing, someone other than you. He could have done so years ago, during those few years he had masqueraded as a normal human being with a nine-to-five. 

You were risking a friendship over… what? The implied hopes and dreams of a dead fifteen-year-old? Haibara was dead. It didn’t matter to him whether Nanami experienced the things he never could. 

Nanami’s gaze flickers between your eyes for a moment, and this close, you can see the faint traces of the wine staining his lips. Your gaze must linger for a touch too long because his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. The pink skin glistens with the faint glimmer of his saliva.

When you look up, you see his eyes trained on your own lips, before they quickly flick back up to meet your eyes. 

“We’re friends,” he murmurs, his voice low, slightly thick. 

“And we always will be,” you reply.

He glances down at your hands. Somewhere between your own thoughts and Nanami’s reiteration of your friendship, your hands had interlocked, fingers intertwined like vines. He was gripping your hand a little too tightly to be comfortable, but you didn’t flinch. 

You’re not sure whether it had been your subconscious doing, or his. 

“I… can’t,” Nanami mutters finally, closing his eyes for a moment. “Not like this. Not… now.” 

Something clenches in your heart at his rejection, although you had expected it. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s denying you, or himself. 

You smile softly nonetheless and nod. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,” you say quietly, going to pull your hand from his grip and give him some space. 

Only he doesn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightens slightly. 

Your eyes flick between his hand and his eyes, still trained on your face. You raise an eyebrow, your lips parting to speak, but he beats you to it. 

“But I’d like to kiss you.” 

Something resembling a very quiet ‘uh’ pushes past your lips in a long exhale.

You’re not sure why the idea of kissing him felt more… intimate than the fact that you had offered your body to him only seconds prior. You’re not sure why there’s a prickle of heat at the back of your neck or your lips burn with a sudden need.

“Nanam-“

As if remembering himself, he shakes his head slightly, blinking away whatever stupor had just possessed him. He looks away, his grip on your hand loosening, but not quite pulling away. 

“I… don’t know why I said that,” he mumbles. “You should go-“

Your free hand is already gripping his chin, turning his face toward yours a little too sharply. A subtle grunt leaves his throat as he looks at you, his gaze foggier than usual. From the wine, you, or the whole situation? Who knows. 

Fingers against his neck, feeling the quickened thrum of his pulse, your thumb brushes against his chin, pulling the skin until his lips naturally part. You feel Nanami’s shaky exhale against your lips as you lean forward, warmth breath mingling with yours, the scent of wine heavy on the air. 

You close the distance slowly, giving him time to stop this, to pull or push away. To draw an end to this nonsense before it went any further. 

Instead of pulling back or pushing you away, he closes the gap so quickly your noses almost bump together. 

The first press of his lips against you feels hurried and unsure. It’s off-center slightly, barely hitting the corner of your mouth, but Nanami is quick to correct it. He slots his lips against yours more firmly the second time, his lips parting to capture yours fully. You feel a rush of air against your cheek as he exhales through his nose. 

The kiss is unhurried, curious almost, yet there’s a subtle urgency in it that surprises you. Your free hand moves from his chin to his jaw, fingertips softly caressing the sharp curve of it. The sound and feel of his sigh against your lips makes you shiver, and you become enamoured with it. 

Enamoured with him.

You part your lips further, your tongue swiping against his bottom lip, finally tasting the remnants of the wine that you had spotted earlier. An odd sound builds at the back of his throat before his mouth parts too, his tongue brushing against yours. 

Something changes quickly then. His hand, larger than you ever really noticed, cups the back of your neck, his calloused thumb pressing against your jaw, drawing you closer. Your other hands, still intertwined, seem to tighten around one another like a snake's coils. The wet smacks of your lips grow louder in the quiet of his apartment, just about overriding the sound of increasingly ragged breaths, borderline panting. 

Your head feels thick. Dizzy. The kiss is indulgent, almost sloppy now. Nanami’s tongue is in your mouth, exploring every crevice, tasting you with an eagerness you hadn’t thought he was capable of. Every time you brush your tongue against his, your taste buds wetly sliding against his own, a small sound rumbles in the back of his throat, somewhere between a groan and grumble. 

After a moment that feels like an eternity too short, you pull back slightly, just enough to see his eyes as you open yours. Nanami denies you this, however, because when you open your eyes, his are still closed, almost scrunched. A faint frown tugs at his brow. 

He leans forward until his forehead rests against yours. The heat of his skin against yours feels searing, your noses softly brushing against one another’s. He sighs deeply, as if pulled from the back of his chest. It almost sounds like defeat. 

“Kento-“

“I want you,” he breathes out, and your voice almost hitches as you feel rather than hear his voice. It’s a deep, husky sound, more rumble than syllable. But there’s a crack in his tone belying a raw vulnerability that you weren’t familiar with. Not from him.

His eyes finally open, looking up at you from underneath his brow. His hazel eyes are almost black, you realise, the familiar colour you’ve always admired swallowed up by a sea of coal. You wonder if yours are the same. 

He’s trembling too. You can feel his fingertips shake where they press against the nape of your neck. 

“I thought you didn’t want… this,” you murmur. ‘Sex’ suddenly feels too…

“I changed my mind,” he replies, a touch too quickly for you to believe that he was thinking clearly. 

But God, did you want him too. You want him so fucking bad it almost makes you ache. Your feelings toward Nanami had always been friendly, respectful. He had been your closest friend, your ally, your confidant. You had been through so much together. You liked him, every part. 

And somewhere along the way, between the four years apart as he pursued a different life and the first time you had hugged him when he finally returned, Gojo grinning over his shoulder… you think, that like had changed to love.

It quickly occurs to you that you weren’t pushing Nanami to experience sex for fear of him missing out. That was you. You were scared of missing out on him.

It’s that revelation that makes you pull back slightly, and Nanami’s eyes widen a little, some of the hazy fog clearing. His hand slides from the back of your neck, falling limply against the couch next to your thigh. 

“I… I shouldn’t have put you in this position,” you mutter, glancing away, staring at the two wine glasses on the coffee table before looking back at him. “It’s your choice. Your first time should be on your terms, not because I think you’re missing out or depriving yourself.”

You go to remove your hand from his, but once again, his grip tightens, but there’s a tenderness to it this time. A gentle squeeze, almost begging you not to go. Not yet. 

He looks serious now, staring at you squarely, as if about to deliver a mission report, and its the first familiar expression you’ve seen on his face thus far. He swallows thickly, the only thing belying his hesitation. 

“I said I couldn’t have a one-night stand.” 

You frown. “And th-“

“I don’t want this to be a one-night stand.” 

Some of the breath flees your lungs as you look at him. His lips are still pink and slightly swollen from kissing, his cheeks still slightly flushed from the wine and your touch. You become distinctly aware of the scent of his cologne, faded but warm from his skin. It’s soft, smoky almost. You have the urge to bury his nose in the crook of his neck and breathe.

You know what he’s trying to say, what he’s trying to ask. You know what he wants because you want it too. You realise you’ve wanted it for a long damn time. 

Words fail you. They feel… inadequate to describe what you’re feeling, what you desire, what you’ve always desired buried down underneath the guilt and trauma. 

But you still can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. Not here. Not yet. 

And neither can he.

You’re not sure who makes the first move, all you know is that your lips are pressed against his and he moans into your mouth as if something had finally let go. It’s like a cork had finally been released, a lifetime of pent-up feelings pouring out in one gush. 

His hand is back at the nape of your neck, holding you tightly this time, unwilling to let go. His lips part more readily with every press, his tongue seeking yours with a pinpoint determination. You skip his jaw this time altogether, aiming straight for his hair that you’ve been dying to touch since… you don’t know when. 

The hand that had been holding yours hostage finally releases, only so his fingers can brush against your waist. His fingers brush against your ribs through your clothes, tugging you closer until you’re rising up onto your knees on the couch just to oblige. He’s tilting back, his broad shoulders bumping against the couch cushions behind him - and it’s only distantly you register it’s because you’re pushing him back against it. 

Something shouts at you in the back of your mind to take your time, to savour this, to savour him. You may want each other badly, but this is Nanami’s first time. It should be done carefully, respectfully, the way he would treat you if this position had been reversed. 

But then Nanami’s hand has moved from your waist to your thigh, blindly grabbing it as he pulls it over his lap. Before you know it, you’re straddling his hips with a huff against his lips, and something like a sharp, pained groan leaves his lips. 

You pull away from his lips with a ragged breath, concern knitting your brow until you realise what the cause of his groan was. 

Straddling him, you can feel the pulse of his desire underneath you, the hard ridge of the bulge in his pants pressing insistently against your core through your own clothes. One hand is grabbing your hip tightly, almost too tight, as his forehead rests against your shoulder. The other hand is on your thigh, his thumb digging into the plush flesh there. 

His breathing is ragged, extremely so. Hot puffs fall against your skin. You weave your fingers through his hair softly, and you watch with reverence as a strong shudder rolls down his spine in response.

“We can stop, if you’d like,” you murmur against his ear, going to rise up on your knees to give him a little breathing room.

“Don’t,” he grunts, the grip on your hip and thigh quickly stopping you. He exhales again, a shaky sound as he keeps his forehead stamped against your shoulder. His voice emerges again, barely audible, slightly pained. “...I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Your grip in his hair tightens in response. In a flood, memories of him rush through your mind. A thousand different glances, subtle touches, small clues. Even in school, the way he would linger, a touch closer every time Suguru or Satoru would appear. The hand at the bottom of your back in a restaurant. The way he would lean in to hear you in a crowded place. 

The way his arms had tightened around you when he had returned after four years away. I missed you too, almost inaudible against your ear. 

Nanami didn’t want a one-night stand. What was the point of sex at all, if it wasn’t with you? 

The thought has you rolling your hips down against his before you can stop yourself, feeling the firm length of his cock grind against your core. A moan leaves your lips, and something guttural leaves his. 

The hand on your thigh moves up to your other hip, pulling you down tighter against him as if he could slide inside you right now. “Don’t tease,” he hisses between clenched teeth. He turns his head slightly, his lips brushing against your neck. He leaves a searing, open-mouthed kiss against your pulse point. “Not now, not after this long.” 

“You think you’re the only one who waited?” You pant as you grind again, firmer this time. His hips buck against yours in response, a muffled groan leaving his lips, imprinted against your neck. You can feel his cock throb against you, twitching against the fabric that separates you. 

“…you wanted this too?” He breathes out after a moment. 

You nod, though you doubt he can see it from the way his face is buried against the crook of your neck. “Since you came back. Since you hugged me back and said you missed me.” 

His hands move from your hips to wrap tightly around your waist as if he couldn’t bear for a single slither of space to be left between you two. His hips jut up against you once again, a ragged breath leaving his lips. It seems the idea of you wanting him for so long the same as he had the same effect on him as it had on you. If not more. 

He holds you a little tighter, running the sharp point of his nose along your throat as he tilts his head up. Finally, finally, he breaks free of your neck to look up at you, lips parted, eyes almost desperate. 

With a thick swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing, he goes to say something but falters, and murmurs your name instead. His dark eyes flick between your eyes and your lips. His cock twitches underneath you. 

“Please,” is all he can croak out, and the moan that almost leaves your lips would have been primal. 

You nod your head, giving his shoulders a small squeeze, pushing him back slightly. He seems reluctant to let go, but finally relents after a little insistence, reclining back against the couch. His arms unwind and his hands drop to your hips. He looks up at you, clearly waiting for your lead. 

You sit back slightly on his parted thighs, the muscles firm and supportive underneath you. Letting your hands fall from his shoulders, you drag your fingertips slowly down over the expanse of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his wrinkled shirt. As your fingers skate over his abdomen, you feel the muscles flex and roll. Nanami looks at you readily. 

“We should do this properly,” you murmur, your eyes trained on the lower buttons of his shirt, near the waistband of his slacks. “In a bed.” 

Nanami, to your surprise, shakes his head quickly, giving your hips a small squeeze. “We’ve waited long enough.” 

You raise an eyebrow but don’t disagree. Despite the need, the ache, the pulse of your own core, you can’t help but think of if the positions were reversed. The image of candles, roses and soft music fills your mind, Nanami’s guiding hands and murmured praises. It would be slow and romantic. Perfect. 

“Nanami,” you breathe out, almost chastising. With the way his cock is pressing against you, you have no doubt he’s not thinking clearly right now; the thought of having what he had wanted for so long within his grasp clouding rational thought. 

He shakes his head again, a lock of his mussed hair tickling his brow. “Next time.” He shifts, sliding down the couch a little more and spreading his thighs - and in turn, spreading yours. He grips your hips tighter, pulling you a little closer until you’re seated right on top of him. “Next time,” he repeats in a groan. “We’ll go slow. I’ll explore every inch of you, taste you. Now, I just want…” He exhales an unsteady breath, sounding like your name. “I just want you.” 

Your fingers linger near his shirt's lower button, and one of Nanami’s hands unclasps itself from your hip to gently grasp your wrist. He guides your fingertips to the belt buckle, the metal cool against your hot fingers. 

You meet his eyes once more, and his gaze is a paradox of firmness and vulnerability. He’s nervous, you think, but ready. Almost desperately so. 

Without another word, your other hand reaches down to join your other one, and your fingers are surprisingly deft as you slide the leather through the metal. Nanami watches your hands with rapt attention until the belt is loose. Your fingers slide over the metal button of his slacks, and you don’t check in this time. You pop it open before sliding his zipper down, the crackle of the metal teeth as loud as a gunshot between you.

A small sigh of what you think is relief leaves his lips as the fabric parts, giving you a small glimpse of the dark boxers underneath, straining over his cock. A small wet patch blooms at the top, wear his tip would be, and a shudder runs through you. 

Your fingers tuck into the waistband of his underwear, lingering for a moment. You look up at him at the same time he looks up at you. Without a sound, Nanami lifts his hips and you rise up to your knees. 

With a few firm tugs, you manage to inch his slacks and boxers down enough to free him. A small huff leaves his lips as the cooler air of the apartment hits his overheated flesh, and you watch in rapt attention as his cock twitches, the flushed tip glistening already.

It’s longer than you expected. Thicker too. Uncut. A prominent vein runs up the underside of it, and you have the sudden urge to follow it with your finger, or your tongue. 

Nanami shifts underneath you, and you realise you’ve been staring a touch too long.

You pull your eyes away from his cock to meet his eyes, and his breathing seemed to have quickened. Anticipation is making him stiff, almost antsy, a rare sight on a man you’ve rarely ever seen anything of other than composed. 

It’s endearing. 

Reaching down, you satisfy your own urge and run your fingertip up his shaft, following the vein, feeling it pulse steadily to the rhythm of his heart. Nanami’s hips twitch, his eyelids fluttering. Dark eyelashes tickle his cheeks.

When you curl your fingers around him, gripping him firmly at the base, his eyes shoot open, snapping to the sight of him in your palm. You give him one pull upwards, and a bead of pre-cum wells in the divot of his slit. 

“Fuck,” comes out in a very quiet, gruff choke. Your eyebrows rise in surprise, a small smile on your lips. Nanami didn’t always curse, and especially not like that. 

“Language, Nanami,” you tease, and his eyes flick up to you, something indignant and impatient in his eyes. You usually weren’t one to tease, and he wasn’t one to be teased. 

You continue to stroke him slowly for a moment, rubbing your thumb against the sensitive tip. You fingers quickly become tacky, the glide of your hand more fluid, until the lewd wet noise starts to rise to the same level as Nanami’s breathing. He grunts with every upward stroke, his hips twitching underneath you. Had it not been for your weight on top of him, you get the distinct feeling he’d be bucking up into your palm a little more eagerly. His head falls back against the couch, lips parted, his eyes fluttering closed once more as he relaxes more into the sensation. 

It occurs to you that you’ve seldom seen Nanami this relaxed. 

“Are you sure you want to do this here?” you ask, “with me on top?” 

He nods but doesn’t open his eyes. His hands run up from your hips to your waist, a soft caress. “It’ll be… easier for me- hah-“ Another choked groan leaves his lips as you give the head of his cock a small squeeze, and Nanami’s hand flies to your wrist in a blink, stopping you from making another move. 

You feel his cock throbbing in your grasp, and Nanami’s straight-up panting now, his eyes slightly wild as he tilts his head up to look at you. It’s an arousing reality to know that you had just pushed Nanami dangerously close to the edge without even meaning to. 

“I won’t last,” he murmurs, looking up at you, his eyes shining.

 You realise quickly that he’s actually asking a question. Are you sure? 

“This time,” you reply with a small smile. With his hand still around your wrist, you give his cock another squeeze, and he grits his teeth, that vein in his neck protruding once more. You can see the taut muscles in his abdomen flexing from where his shirt has bunched up. 

As much as the idea of making Nanami cum, right here, right now, appeals to you, you relent for now. You’d love nothing more than to watch him spill into your palm, to see the euphoria and bliss play out on his face… but that was for another time. The next time, perhaps. 

You release his cock, letting it fall back against his lower stomach with a dull smack, making him hiss through his teeth. Leaning forward, you brush your lips against his throat, nipping at the skin softly. 

You guide his hands to the waistband of your own bottoms, and he wastes little time in following your unspoken order. The press of your lips against his throat clearly distracts him, but he manages to pull down your clothes enough to leave you in your underwear. You kick them off the sofa haphazardly, not leaving his neck for a single moment. 

He catches you off guard when his hand immediately dives for your sex, cupping your heat through the dampened fabric. You stutter against his neck, gripping onto his shoulders for support in response. 

Your eyelids close, goosebumps erupting across your skin as you feel just how wet you are. “Nanami,” you gasp.

“Kento,” he whispers quickly. Once, then twice, he rubs his palm along your clothed pussy, something guttural building in the back of his throat as you buck down into his touch. “You’re… so wet.” 

The wet spot on the fabric clings tightly to your folds, doing very little to dampen the sensation of his touch. His fingers are exploratory, a tentativeness that belies his lack of experience with this, but his touch, the fact it’s him, here and now, makes up for it all. 

You can’t remember the last time you enjoyed a touch such as this. Not like this. 

Despite toying with Nanami’s cock until he almost burst, hypocritical impatience gets the better of you, and you remove your hand from his shoulders to tug down your own underwear, kicking it off to join the growing pile on the floor. Bare from the waist down, Nanami’s eyes roam over the exposed skin almost hungrily. 

Both calloused hands run up your thighs, pressing into the soft flesh slightly. You see his hand move for your pussy once more, but your fingers are curling back around his cock again before he can distract you. 

Next time, keep parroting in your mind. Next time you can both endure hours of foreplay; touching, kissing, tasting, the whole nine yards. You promise to make him cry out before he even sinks inside you, to run your tongue along every inch of his skin until you’re sick of the taste of him. You’d know he’d do the same. 

But you two had waited long enough. 

Gripping the base of his cock again, you brush it up against your heat, your own slick smearing across him. Nanami’s eyes almost roll back into his head, but he closes his lids before you witness it. You’re faring little better, the mere sensation of having him against you like this, the tip of his cock rubbing up against your clit sending you dizzy. You angle your hips, and just feeling the thick head press against the tight, slick ring of muscle is enough for a moan to already tumble past your lips. 

Something flickers in Nanami’s gaze as he opens his eyes again, honing in on the sight of you braced above him like this. He grips your hips, his touch light, merely supporting you for now. You look back once into his eyes, and go to check in just once more, but he leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s little more than teeth and raw need. 

His lips pressed against yours, you sink down, the wider head of his cock slipping inside you. Your lips part in a soundless gasp against his mouth, swallowing the ragged groan that leaves his throat. The stretch is slightly more than you’re prepared for. Distantly, you think, skipping foreplay wasn’t the wisest idea, but desperation, need, pushes you forward regardless. 

So you sink down further, inch by inch, and as he slides deeper and deeper, his grip on your hips grows tighter and tighter, until the force of his fingers dulls the ache of his cock kissing your cervix. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp as you finally bottom out, hips sitting on top of his. You realise you’re breathless, and that cowgirl might not have been the best position for taking someone of his size. Certainly not in one go, like you just had. 

Nanami is fairing no better. His mouth is agape, his biceps trembling where he clings to you. He seems dazed, winded, panting into your mouth as his arms wind against you. He pulls you forward, and you both moan as his cock seems to slide just that little bit deeper. 

You’re dizzy, strained, stretched out far more than you can ever remember being before. Your eyes are scrunched closed, your forehead knocking against his. Everything feels distant and muffled. It takes you a moment to realise Nanami’s muttering something repeatedly in fragmented gasps.

When you open your eyes, he’s looking at you almost panicked, his eyebrows knitted upward. His teeth are bared, gritted - and it’s now you notice that you’re clenching around him so tight that you’re not sure if you’re causing him more discomfort than pleasure.

You swallow thickly, trying to catch your breath. You’re flushed, prickly heat blooming across your chest and neck. You shift a little, and something pained rumbles from the back of Nanami’s chest in response.  

“Do you want me to stop or-“

“Don’t,” he grunts, his fingers shaking against your back. “Don’t move.” 

The throb of his cock inside you is insistent, and it takes everything in you not to clench tighter around him in response. You know he’s close, dangerously close, and as much as you want to rise up on your knees and slam yourself down on his cock until he’s begging you to stop, you clench your jaw and relax. 

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his skin softly; small pecks and affectionate touches. He shivers, and his cock still pulses, but slowly, muscle by muscle, he relaxes too, ragged pants dissolving into hot, muted breaths. His arms around you loosen, holding now, not gripping. 

“Tell me when you want me to move,” you whisper against his ear, pressing a small kiss to the lobe. 

He nods, brushing his cheek against yours with a soft sigh. His hand moves from your back upward, until he cups the back of your head, drawing your lips back to his. It’s a soft kiss, loving; slow and sensual slides of wet skin mingling with gentle exhales. Before you know it, and before he says, you’re rolling your hips greedily, just grinding against him for now. 

A guttural sound leaves his lips. His forehead feels hot and sticky pressed against yours like this, a strand of his hair tickling your cheek. 

You feel his thighs shift, widening as far as the slacks still around his thighs can allow, feet planted more firmly into the carpet. The first roll of his hips is disjointed, off rhythm with your own, but the slight drag of his cock against your walls has you moaning brokenly. The second roll, a little more confident, has you pressing your hips down to meet it, and your back arches like a cat.

“Fuck yes,” you moan, your voice thick and throaty. You moan his name, wait for the third shallow thrust, and meet it. “You feel so fucking good.” 

He looks up at you like you hung the stars, his eyes widening at the sound of his name tumbling past your lips like a fractured halo. He loses his rhythm, but you soon pick it back up for him, starting to use your thighs to slide more eagerly down his cock. It’s still shallow, Nanami’s arms around your waist preventing you from really going for it, but you’re unwilling to part from the closeness for now. 

You bounce a few inches at a time, the dull clap of your hips and the lewd squelch of your hot cunt wrapped tight around him filling the air of the apartment. With each bounce, a grunt pushes out from his chest, hot breath fanning across your face. 

Nanami, though inexperienced, starts to let his body guide him. His hips buck up to meet you more confidently, and the growing force of his movements has you keening, fingernails biting into his shoulders. 

You look square into his hooded eyes, breath mingling, and see the flush across his skin, his lips glistening with saliva. You moan again, higher pitched this time, and Nanami’s next thrust has you jolting up a little, nose bumping against his. You clench around him again, and his brow knits together. 

“S-Shit,” he pants, his hips starting to jolt more readily, pushing a little too forcefully into you, quickly losing his rhythm. “I’m not… I’m not going to last…” His movements quicken, grow more erratic, and you’re not even sure he realises. “… you’re so fucking… tight.” 

The last part is little more than a throaty whisper, his voice cracking. You stop meeting his thrusts and instead, widen your stance, tighten your core, and let him take what he needs. The movement, though small, isn’t lost on him, and he looks up at you, emotion swimming heavily in his dark gaze. 

He thrusts up grow more erratic, sloppier, something like a grunt leaving his mouth with every dull thwap of his hips against your ass. His arms tighten around you, fingertips pressing into your skin. A groan, a hiss, and a swallow. The couch creaks and strains. 

“N-Next time - hah - next time… I want t-to feel you cum around me,” he pants, his arms starting to shake. “I’ll give you everything, anything, fuck, I-I’ll keep going until… until… God-“ 

He’s barely pulling out now, a mere inch is all he’s moving, the head of his cock bullying against the soft spot right next to your cervix. Choked, high-pitch moans are the only sounds you can make, and you distantly note you’ve never sounded like before. Not ever. 

You’re getting there, you realise. Not quite close, and definitely not as close as him, but the way his cock fits inside you, the slap of his hips against you, the way he’s looking at you… it’s pushing you there fast. 

But it’s not quite enough. 

“I’m close,” he gasps. “I… where…” 

“Inside,” you reply without hesitation. Something passes by his eyes, a small flicker of concern, perhaps, swimming in the sea of lust and arousal. You try to find your bearings enough to tell him it’s okay, you wouldn’t have taken him inside if you weren’t protected-

-but then his cock is twitching inside you, and Nanami is shaking, shaking underneath you, his thighs jolting, nearly bucking you off his lap altogether. 

With one last slam of his hips against you, buried as deep as he could possibly ago, a long, primal groan leaves him. It’s deep, visceral, easily mistaken for something pained - and it might be the most divine fucking sound you’ve ever heard in your life. 

He buries his face against your throat as his hips buck involuntarily a few times, and you shiver as you feel that familiar warmth bloom inside you. He’s giving you everything, or what feels like it. Your pussy flutters around him, and his fingertips press into you so tight you wouldn’t be surprised to see bruises. 

His heart is hammering against your chest, the thump pounding even in your own chest. Ragged pants and a heavy quiet settles over the living room. His cock continues to twitch inside you, growing weaker with every thud of his heart. 

Nanami doesn’t pull his head from your throat for a long while, his nose pressing into your skin as he pants against you. 

After a moment, he finally swallows. “… I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I… I should have made you-“ 

“Shut up,” you murmur against his warm hair, breathing in the faint scent of sweat and his shampoo. He seems to get the picture, of what you were trying to say. He always did. “Next time,” you add anyway, just to be sure. 

He lifts his head from your skin, looking up at you blearily. You smile fondly as you see his face again, the harsh lines on his brow and his eyes smoother now, no longer creased as they always seemed to be. He looks… so much younger, you think, like this. Relaxed. Sated. 

You brush some of his sweaty hair out of his face, and his eyelids flutter at the brief contact. He seems exhausted, you think.

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs as he looks up at you. “I don’t want this to…” His palm moves against your back, sliding down your spine. “I want you. Properly. I always have.” He swallows. “Always.” 

Your eyes soften. He looks at you expectantly, almost vulnerably. 

“You have me,” you murmur in reply, finally. “Properly.” 

A small smile tugs at his lips, and it’s warmer than you’ve ever seen before. Genuine. Light. It’s as if a decade of weight lifts from his broad shoulders, if only briefly. 

He pulls you close once more, his lips pressing against yours softly, lovingly, and the world seems to fade away. 

For now, of course. 

masterlist.

#nanami x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #kento nanami x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #nanami #kento nanami

[4channerguy]

let loose / kunidazai

hayyyy so im just gonna repost this from my ao3 because ive been lacking in tumblr posts lol!! i hope you enjoy :3 xoxo (。・∀・)ノ i used this prompt when writing this: person B tossing snowballs at person A's window, not knowing the window is open and has no screen. also this is probably ooc but idgaf! and also kind of cringe but i also dgaf!

wc: 1057

warnings ✎ : boyfaliures (´･ω･`)  ➜ ┊ pairings: dazai x kunikida

𓂃 ☆ ⋮ doppo kunikida thinks of himself as a precise and sharp man.

he gets a full seven hours of sleep with no distractions, eating a full breakfast precisely at 6 AM, and then meditating. today was his free day off, and all he could think about was doing work. he’d offered fukuzawa to do more paperwork, to discard the load that was on the old man’s shoulders, but he at first declined saying, “you shouldn’t do too much. this day is possibly your only day off.” kunikida only shook his head, pulling his notebook and pointing at it. “i must follow my ideals, sir,” he said firmly. “i must retain the quota of doing seventy-two pages of work.” fukuzawa stared at him for a moment before sighing slightly. He opened his drawer to obtain a tuna can from his secret-stray-cat-stash (SSCS), because it was his free day too. The man didn’t even bother to protest against the golden-blond, and only wished him luck in his assignments.

now at his apartment, kunikida was prepared. he had a neat stack of paperwork with his laptop and of course, his notebook. he adjusted his glasses while gazing out the window. it had snowed last night, with inches of thick snow covering the pathway. since his desk faced the window, decided to open it to at least have some cool breeze in while he worked. it would give me some form of productivity, he thought while also fully opening the window screen as well. He sighed contently, opening his laptop and started typing.

unbeknownst to him, a troublemaker was walking by.

osamu dazai, who just had a typical failed suicide attempt, was mopeing around like a teenager on a winter break, tossing his empty can of tomato juice around his hands. he was thinking about what he wanted for dinner. canned crab probably. with cheap beer. ten cans of beer, maybe. he whistled to himself and then stopped.

he saw kunikida. But, alas, kunikida did not see him. dazai felt his heart skip slightly, seeing him with a furrowed brow working diligently. His glasses were perched on top of his head, which made dazai slightly swoon-

nah. dazai thought. maybe my body is just wired to tease and bother the shit out of him. typical dazai-centric thoughts. dazai crept up towards kunikida’s apartment and started to slowly form a snowball (with his bare hands of course, because he hoped to also catch hypothermia). “KUNIIIIIKIDAAAAAAA!” dazai yelled, which caused kunikida to snap up his head to see the perpetrator. unfortunately, the snowball hit him.

square in the face.

the snowball slowly dripped from his face and onto his desk. dazai only grinned.

“...”

“...surprise?”

kunikida slowly got out of his chair, grabbed his coat, scarf and gloves, put on his snow boots and walked calmly outside where dazai was waiting with a cheshire-like smirk. he took and breath and screamed, “DAAAAAAZAAAAAAIIIII!” he started forming half-assed snowballs and started pelting dazai with him. dazai, on the other hand, was laughing maniacally like a person high on drugs, with a grin reaching his ears. the snow-covered ground became a battle-ground, the two engaging into a chaotic snowball fight. kunikida’s annoyance gradually turned into amusement as he threw, turning uncharacteristically carefree. the two laughed like children on a playground, the chunks of snow glistening, making it look like a hallmark christmas card. to a passerby’s eye, it looked like two grown assed men who were on drugs.

as the snowball fight continued, it got more competitive. kunikida had the sudden urge to outwit dazai, and started to become strategic, hiding behind various things and even building a snow fort. He began a pattern of throwing each snowball while dazai skillfully dodged his attacks and snapped back with his own. in the midst of the laughter, they found a shared joy of letting go of their burdens (well, mostly on kunikida’s part) and embracing the lightness of the moment. kunkida’s mind shifted away from his ideals, and dazai from his future suicide attempts. they just became two individuals enjoying each other’s company in the purest form of fun. Eventually, fatigue caught up to them, leaving their laughter to only breathless chuckles, with fog coming out of their mouth. they stood facing each other covered in snow with comfortable silence. dazai’s grin turned into a warm smile, brushing snow out of his hair. kunikida did the same with his coat.

“you know, kunikida,” dazai began, still trying to get a chunk of snow on his coat. “it’s good to let loose sometimes.” kunikida nodded, cleaning his glasses. “yes, I suppose you’re right,” he paused and cleared his throat, “for once.” dazai only laughed and went towards him, making kunikida hesitant and step back a little. he brushed more snow out of kunikida’s face which caused him to slightly flush. “you’re always being so uptight,” dazai said softly. “you should loosen up more.”

“...well, um, i-”

“also I have a confession to make,” dazai said seriously, which caused kunikida to twitch, making his ears turn red. “since you were (assuming) doing work, could you do…mine?”

“what.”

“okay here me out, so, um, i was busy having-”

“a one night stand,” kunikida interrupted. “or a suicide attempt. or drinking beer and zoning out.”

“...that’s not true! i was fooling around-, no, wait, um, i mean MENTORING, atsushi for his job with kyoka-”

kunikida turned around and started walking away. “H..Hey! Wait, PLEASE KUNIKIDAAA,” dazai went on his knees. “PLEASEEE, I PROMISE I’LL-”

kunikida sighed and stared back at him, his expression unreadable. “i’ll do it for you. but you have to do something, for once.” dazai beamed and dusted off the snow on his pants. “thanks, kunikida.”

awkward silence.

“...i’ll have to get going.” kunikida said, breaking the silence. “hm? oh, yeah.” dazai replied, sort of red-faced. probably the cold. kunikida guessed. “see you tomorrow! we should do this again,” dazai grinned. kunikida nodded.

they both go to their respective apartments, both smiling (kunikida’s almost barely noticeable). kunikida arrived back, taking off his shoes and closing his window for any further cautions. he was about to start his work, but he decided to take a small break, because after all, maybe the troublemaker, osamu dazai, was right.

⋆｡𖦹 °✩ 06.09.23, do not repost or translate my content :^)

#fanfiction #bsd #fic #ao3 #kunidazai #bungou gay dogs #kunikida doppo #bsd kunikida #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #kunikida x dazai #snowball fight #fluff #− ⌗ sfw/fluff ⊹.∿ #sfw #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #ship #dazai x kunikida #dazakuni

[viviartsy]

Gassed Up: Ignition. (Dubz fic)

I've finally found a name for the fic!! I struggle so bad with titles, it takes me the longest time to find something I remotely like.

Warnings: As always, foul language. Also, like, two slightly suggestive comments on Dubz's part. He's being tame, for now. Things will get spicier later. English is not my first language, I'm trying my hardest here.

Dubz might be OOC, I haven't watched the movie so this is my interpretation of HIM. Nothing else is from the movie. This is just based off vibes and vibes alone.

Words: 3420.

Chapter 1: In wich Noa finds her keys.

One thing she hated about London was the lack of blinds. She longed for the ability to roll down blinds and make the room pitch black. Instead, heavy-duty curtains were all she had, and they weren't even effective enough to block out the sun worsening the pounding headache she woke up with after a night of crying. It left her feeling as though she had been beaten up. Fortunately, she didn’t need to leave for university until the afternoon, so she had time to take a painkiller and collect herself.

As she did, she resolved to take a slow approach to her morning. She needed time to process her feelings, perhaps write them down, engage in some self-care, listen to music, and enjoy a leisurely bath. Her uncle had promised to install a shower in the upstairs bathroom, but so far, only the en-suite had one. She didn't feel entirely comfortable using it, so she opted for the old bath.

With her new resolution in mind, she automatically felt a bit better. Determined to avoid checking her phone and disrupting her newfound peace, she threw back the flower-covered covers and hopped out of bed.

In the kitchen downstairs, her grand aunt was busy preparing something, while her husband tended to the garden outside. Their little dog, Luna, frolicked around the backyard, chasing after insects. Luna had been a gift for the couple's grandchildren, but when the kids lost interest, their mother harshly returned the puppy back to the couple. When Noa arrived in London, she was the loveliest surprise. The lapdog provided comfort during her sad moments, always ready for long cuddling sessions under the blankets.

"Good morning, sweetie," her grandaunt greeted as Noa entered the kitchen. "There's coffee in the fridge. Your uncle made some for you when we got up."

Without even opening the fridge, Noa grabbed some sugar and milk while her aunt continued chatting.

"Tony got you an espresso machine on Amazon. We talked to him the other day, and your uncle asked him to get it. That way, you can have your coffee just the way you like it every single day."

Noa put everything together after getting the big glass, half full of black coffee. She stirred it with a smile and when she took the empty icetray to the sink, kissed her aunt loudly on the cheek. "I’ll go thank him. That’s really nice of him. You didn’t have to ask for me."

“Oh now, don’t be silly," her aunt responded, drying off some dishes after returning the kiss with her own loud mwah! "You don’t have to be shy about what you want. If we can get it for you, it’s no issue at all. Your uncle loves you very much, and he talks to your grandpa every day. He wouldn’t be able to face his brother if he didn’t take the best care of you. We're all very proud of you. If you want a coffee machine, we’ll get it for you, no ifs. Money is worth nothing if you don’t use it."

Though her aunt didn't explicitly mention it, Noa knew the old woman could tell her grandniece was homesick. The woman had never been one to conceal her feelings, and Noa appreciated her openness, even though she felt a bit guilty for burdening her relatives. However, she promised herself never to voice her discomfort as that would be ungrateful.

“No going out in the garden like that!” her aunt cautioned as Noa headed outside. “It’s cold, and you’ll get your feet all wet.”

The woman opened the window to the backyard, called to her almost deaf husband with her arm extended. “Antonio!” She did this a few times until Luna started barking, which finally got his attention, and he looked at his wife, small eyes wondering what she’d want with the sweetest smile. “The girl wants to thank you for the coffee! Don’t let her get her new slippers wet!”

It was almost impossible that the man would have understood anything his wife told him, but as always, he looked at Noah and smiled. “There you are,” he said softly for a man who had struggled to even hear his own voice since he was a kid. Her granduncle had always been a most soft-spoken man. “How are you, dear? You woke up early today. Do you have class?”

“No, not until later,” Noa replied, making sure he could read her lips. “I have one after lunch.”

“That’s wonderful,” her granduncle said with a smile. “We’ll have lunch together, then. Your aunt can make some curry for you. It’s been a while since you’ve had any. You’ll like it very much.”

Noa nodded, still smiling. “That’d be great.” With that, she excused herself and headed back upstairs.

In her room, she dropped onto her chair, pulling the fluffy white blanket close. After setting down her cold coffee, she turned on her trusty iMac and checked her emails. With that task completed, she put on a video for background noise and started writing in her journal.

The pastel purple iMac had been her biggest acquisition ever. Her dad got it for her after her old laptop crashed in a failed attempt to render some 3D animation she had been assigned to do for class. Poor thing, it started to sound like the ventilation was wheezing. The bottom got hot, and when she went to check after twenty minutes, it was dead. Her dad had managed to bring it back to life by resetting it, but it was clear as day that Noa would need something a bit more heavy-duty if she wanted to get anything done. So, her father, being the tech maniac that he was, decided to make an investment and get the lovely computer as a gift for her. “Don’t ever ask for anything again,” he told her, perhaps afraid to sound too sweet. Fathers, whoever knew what they were thinking?

With that in mind, he had made sure she could take the machine with her. No, she didn’t know at the time, but her dad had arranged a lot for her to feel at home at her uncle’s. Such as buying new furniture for what was going to be her room and asking for a bunch of favours from his cousins to get it all ready before she arrived. She found out quickly, though, as her aunt started boasting about her sweet nephew and how much he cared about his daughters. Noa knew that; she just wished he was better at voicing it, instead of only showing it with expensive gifts and the smallest acknowledgments. He mostly nodded his head and high-fived her for any achievements. Then, he showed up with expensive phones, computers, clothes, all that stuff, as if it covered for the big hole in her and her sister’s lives.

She was done writing in her journal and shaking off the headache when she stretched on her chair and looked out the window. She had learned to expect rain every day. It came as smoothly as it left. People had all sorts of names for rain there, for her, it was way simpler. Back home, drizzle and a particularly dark day ruined everyone’s mood, plans were rearranged or completely thrown out the window. Now that the sun wasn’t out yet, she had to make do with willpower, if she wanted to keep her good mood throughout the day.

Class had been hard, not because it was particularly difficult, but because she was extremely sleepy. She had asked her friends to get out and skip the last couple of hours in place for some coffee and conversation. They had agreed. No questions asked, they walked out the door so fast Paula stepped on her girlfriend’s heel, and they almost fell on their faces right by the door.

How had she managed to land these two idiots? She didn’t know, she was quite happy when Paula approached her and told her to hang out with her and Andrea. “We should stick together,” she concluded. Noa, intimidated by her new environment as she had been, couldn’t have agreed more.

“I honestly don’t dislike the woman,” Paula said, taking a sip of her coffee. “I think you both just love to hate on people.”

“She’s as bright as an arsehole,” Noa replied bluntly. “You like her because you’re too good a person.”

Andrea, who had been quietly sipping her coffee, nodded in agreement. “She’s a bitch. She just loves to see us suffer.”

“Well, maybe she’s right, we just don’t know the language well enough!” Paula retorted, her hands gesturing animatedly. “Or maybe it’s just the way she sounds, I don’t know…”

Noa got lost in the swirling of her coffee for a long moment before speaking. “They all sound the same, it’s like they haven’t known joy for a day in their life.”

“I mean, they probably haven’t,” Andrea added, her fingers entwined with Paula’s curly hair as she spoke. “They throw themselves off balconies as soon as they’re out of here.”

Paula opened her mouth to respond but then closed it, looking like some sort of stunned fish.

“What?” Andrea asked with a smirk.

“Nothing,” she finally managed to say. “I was going to try to defend them, but they’re way too uptight. It’s like they’ve got a stick up their ass.”

“Finally, some common sense!” Andrea patted Paula’s shoulder, and Noa took a sip of her coffee before adding. “By the way, my uncle got me an espresso machine.”

Paula and Andrea practically jumped in their seats. Good, cheap coffee was something they sorely missed from home. Yet, when it was just the three of them, they felt a sense of peace reminiscent of home.

He put the bike away, making sure  it wouldn’t bother him while he was working. He was at the back of the garage, surrounded by a bunch of metals scraps, motor parts, and toolboxes he had left there completely forgotten, trying to find the battery he needed amongst his own chaos.

A deafening crash made him almost jump over the hood of an old Mercedes that had been there for months now. He found Dickie in the middle of the working space, big aluminum sheet in his hands, looking at a box he had dropped by maneuvering, like an uncoordinated elephant in a circus.

“The fuck, Dick?” he asked, raising both his hands so the guy could see him behind all the mess. “You honestly thought you could steal from me, you big fucker?”

The accusation seemed to snap Dickie back to reality. His freckled face turned almost the same shade as his hair, and his shoulders tensed so high up they reached his ears. He laughed nervously in an attempt to brush it off.

“Not 'steal,' no,” he said, leaning the metal sheet against a small Honda. “Just borrowing it. I’m working on something big, and the guys are helping me out. We thought if it works, I could start me own business instead of taking up space here. The kids have been asking you for help, and I know you turned them down because of me. It’s not fair to any of you.”

Dubz, taken aback, stepped out of the cluttered space, pressing his fingers against his scalp as he tried to process what he had just heard. “I didn’t turn down any kids,” he explained. “I get them different jobs. I don’t want those little bastards in my garage; anything here costs more than they’re worth.”

Dick shook his head, gesturing around them. “This place is a mess, Dubz. Give them enough for a ten-pack, and they’ll leave it looking brand-new.”

Dubz grabbed a chair and sat down, resting his chin in his hands as he looked at Davey. “That doesn’t mean you have to leave,” he insisted. “If it’s money you need, I’ll pay you more. If it’s because of Mags, tell her I’ll make things right. I’ll pay you what you’re worth. I’ll make it work.”

But Dubz knew it was because of Mags. She had never quite warmed up to him, disliking how much time Dickie spent helping him with the garage, despite the fact that it barely made any money. He vividly remembered the day when the angry blonde had stormed into his house, lecturing him about business. It was likely because of her, though Dick just shook his head and leaned against the Honda. They stayed in silence for a moment, and Dubz hoped he was considering his offer.

“She’s pregnant,” Dickie finally blurted out.

“The- what?” Dubz was astounded, to which Dickie burst out laughing.

“Margaret. She’s pregnant. That’s why I need a job of me own, Dominic, not because of how much you pay me. I need to do things right. For the kid. For myself, for me kid.”

Dubz didn’t know what to say; that was unusual. Congratulations? Apologies? Should they make it look like an accident? Who in their right mind would want to have a child with that woman? She was going to make his life miserable, or so he imagined. At least not right now.

“Are you going to baptize it?” Dubz blurted out eventually.

“Do you know better than fucking asking shit?” Dick responded fervently, pointing at him as if he was insane for even considering it.

Dubz, seeing his friend come back to his senses, smiled and raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, Richie, she’s a Protestant, you know what her family will think.”

“Bite my ass, bro,” Dickie retorted. “Here I was about to make you godfather, and you’re already talking shit.”

Dubz couldn’t contain his laughter, almost giggling like a child who had successfully gotten under his best friend’s skin. “Just facts, mate. Deal with it. I knew I was the godfather before you even opened your big mouth.”

Finally, he got up from his tattered chair and embraced Dickie, hugging him tightly. He could feel his friend shaking, so he held onto him, not letting go even when he tried to pull away. Kissing his cheek and then his temple as he reassured him they would all be there for him. He knew how scared the kid must have been about everything that was about to come, but he also knew he was not one to back down.

He was a good man, maybe too good. A sweet and caring boy who had left school at a young age to help his Nan take care of his baby sister when his mother left. Dubz had taken him in because he needed help with the garage. Dickie never intended to cause trouble; he was always willing to help. Trouble just seemed to have a way of finding him, much like it found Dubz himself.

So, they stayed there, talking about old times, Dickie's future plans, and his future baby. Like two old hags, they even discussed weddings, baptisms, houses, mortgages, and religion.

Afterward, Dubz helped Dick gather what he needed and took it in the old van to the property down the street from his grandma's house. It was a yard he had bought to start his own shop.

After a while, Dubz realized it was getting late. He had promised an old neighbor that he would do him a favor.

He hugged his old friend one last time, promising to come back and help and wishing him all the best for him and Mags.

He looked up from his bike and saw her approaching, carrying a large black bag against her side, clutching it tightly as if afraid someone might try to sneak their hand inside. She was engrossed in conversation with her girlfriends, laughing loudly and chatting animatedly. He felt like a big, bad wolf, waiting for a little schoolgirl with new, bright, patent leather shoes as she left class to go home after a long day of being the perfect little student. Or was she? Dubz couldn't tell.

Some things he knew for certain, like how her pretty eyes made him feel like jumping out of a plane, confident that he would land on his feet as long as she kept looking at him. She was a pretty little thing, all dolled up for anyone to see. She made his blood boil in all the right ways. Soon, her eyes found his, but just as quickly, she looked away. Leaving him high and dry, yearning for another glimpse. He laughed, feeling like the dog she probably saw him as. He couldn't change her mind if she didn't give him the chance. So, he decided to try, if only for the fun of it.

She stopped abruptly, huffing in annoyance and turning her head toward him. Her sunglasses were probably worth more than he earned in a month of full-time work. Yet he couldn't blame her; he would buy her the world if she were to only ask. What a terrible position to be in, to be so whipped that he would go out of his way to explain himself to anyone, let alone a pretty face.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice tinged with anger. Dubz couldn't help but laugh.

"You don't want to know, love," he replied. Her response was to insult him and walk away. His eyes roamed over her figure once, then twice. Well, maybe she was more than just a pretty face after all. Props to him for having such good taste. "Come on, I'll give you a ride," he offered, handing her a helmet. He always carried a spare; he couldn't afford to have women breaking their heads open, not that it was his style anyway.

"No thanks," she replied quickly, making him snicker. "You're a creep."

Ouch, that hurt. But it was sort of true, wasn't it? Not that he could deny it, given the situation he had put himself in. What had he been expecting? That she would fall at his feet just like that? Did he think so highly of himself? Maybe, on some days. But he didn't think so lowly of her.

"Alright, not my finest moment, got it," he said, setting the helmet down; she was leaving, and with her, his chance was gone. "You dropped your keys last night," he finally said, fishing them out of his pocket and dangling them in front of his face. "I asked around; they told me you'd be here. Nice family you've got; we wouldn't want to worry them sick over some lost keys, would we?"

More surprised than her were her friends, two rather nice looking girls. Not that he had any interest in them, as they played for the other team. He wasn't one to judge or care. They couldn't do anything for him, anyway.

She didn't immediately step forward. Her bright eyes searched his, as if trying to determine who he was. He gave her his best smile, extending his arm as far as he could to give her the keys, barely using two fingers to hold them so she wouldn't have to touch him. Finally, she relented, and he dropped the keys into her palm, which gave way under the weight.

He withdrew his hands to his bike, still smiling. "Be careful out there," he commented. “Wouldn’t want pops worried about you either. Too precious to lose, I'll wager."

Her brow furrowed, and she glanced at her friends over her shoulder. With her keys still in hand and her bag hugged closer than ever, as if that would protect her.

"Thanks." She finally muttered, and if Dubz had not seen her lip-gloss shiny lips move, he wouldn't have been able to tell. "For yesterday. And for now. Just... thanks."

"You're very welcome, sweetheart. If you ever need help, just call. I live two blocks down. Fixed your pops’ old car, so no shame in asking for a hand," he said with a shrug. He could tell they were getting ready to leave, the two behind her. "Don't miss your bus."

With that, he put his helmet on, fastened it quickly, revved the engine, and left. Yet as he did, he couldn't help but look back. She was a lovely thing, looking at him with her mouth still open as if she had something to say. Yet he had to focus on the road far too soon for his liking, missing how the girls huddled together and started running down the street. "What a fucking creep!"

Comments: Please I'd love feedback and interactions! Thank you for getting this far and bearing with me!

#taz skylar #taz skylar x reader #taz skylar x OC #dubz #gassed up #fanfic #dubz x OC #dubz x reader

[catcze]

⠀「 Feel my heart 」 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 FEAT : 」 Diluc. Childe, Kokomi, Thoma (separate) x gn! reader

「 ### : 」 Fluff ! Comfort, cute smooches & just good feels all around. A little ooc? Because of softness. ‘Love’ used to refer to the reader. 

Collab entry for my beloved @anantaru​ & @bluexiao​ ‘s Sweet N Spice collab ♡

Catch me cramming these like how I crammed my paper last semester lmao

⠀ 「 DILUC 」

Parties ! Absolutely fun and festive ! A grand excuse to dress up and mingle, and the promise of an enjoyable time! And free food ! To everyone except Diluc, maybe. Though he can appreciate a good party, the crowdedness of it (not to mention how his time wasted there could very well be more useful hunting the abyss order) was often a turn off.

Not to you though! The moment you caught sight of the fancy-schmancy party invite at the Goth Grand Hotel that he was prepared to throw out, you asked and asked and asked him to go. Pleaded. Whined. Pulled out every trick in the goddamn book to get him to bring you as his plus one.

“Do you even know how to dance?” You still remember him asking, arms crossed and a quirk in his brow. How naive of him, thinking such a menial thing would deter you. “Nope!” You say, smiling. “But you’re going to teach me.”

And this is how you find yourself getting the crash-iest crash course on dancing for rich people that you’ve ever heard of. Day in and day out for the last three weeks— Diluc Ragnvinder, the supposed love of your life, has put you through some of the most grueling shit you can ever dream of. It almost makes you think twice about going, but no way in hell are you about to see him be smug over you accepting defeat.

But, to be fair, merely three weeks into it, and according to Diluc, you probably won’t get roasted by the other members of society attending the event. Not to your face, at least. Probably. Hopefully.

“Caught your breath?” Diluc asks, approaching your starfished form on the ground. There’s an empty glass of water not to far away— a good sign, despite the almost-corpse of his beloved currently unmoving. 

You don’t respond to his question, merely moving to roll away from his voice and grumble some non-savory words under your breath. 

“You can always call it quits, you know. There isn’t even any practical need to go.” Even without seeing his face, you can practically hear the amused little quirk at the corner of his mouth, and by the archons, feel free to call it petty, but you feel life rush back through your cold, dead limbs, if only to stick it to the amused redhead looking over you. 

Getting to your feet is a chore and a half, and you’re definitely going to pass out the moment you get to bed, but you still manage to get back up. Diluc looks impressed, if anything. Either from your stubbornness or your drive, you’re not entirely sure. At the very least, your short water break had left you slightly better off with less sway in your step.

“You’ve made good progress, love. I think we can try to dance the full length of a song today, just before we finish up,” Diluc says, taking your hands in his.

You perk up at his words, exhaustion momentarily gone. “Really? But… there’s no music, though.”

“Music.”

“I mean— yeah.” You shrug. “It would be good for… for immersion.” Then you double down on your bullshit. “Mhm. Yup. Immersion.” You’re nodding to yourself now, self-assured in your words. Diluc just looks on for a second before he sighs, all too easily bending to you when you want something.

“Alright,” he acquiesces, looking like he’s trying very hard not to drag a hand down his face. “Well, what do you propose we do about this lack of music.”

“Youuu… could sing for me?”

It’s like he visibly blanches at the prospect.

All your exhaustion gone at the opportunity that presents itself, you easily sidle up to him, intertwining your fingers together. “C’mon ‘Luc, please? Just this once, I swear, then we’ll go to sleep and go at it again tomorrow and you won’t have to sing! I promise.”

Another deep breath, and Diluc looking like he’s weighing the choice between doing as you ask and jumping out the window right then and there, but eventually— “Alright, fine. Just once.”

Immediately, your grin is blinding, like you’ve just been hooked up to a power source. You giddily press a kiss to his nose, already spewing out your thanks.

“Just this once, really! You’re the best, Diluc.”

He sighs, knowing that, despite what he’s said, if you ask again, he’s too whipped to ever tell you no. Not that he minds too much, if it makes you so happy. “Love you, too.”

⠀ 「 CHILDE 」

He’s a harbinger— someone who’s made his fair share of enemies and seen his fair share of shit. Undoubtedly, there’s a long list of people that he has to watch his back for.

And now that he’s dragged you into his mess (though you’d argue that you willingly walked into the shitfest that is dating a harbinger) he’s extra jumpy when nighttime comes.

It didn’t bother you at first— it was kind of along the lines of Childe to be like that. But it did become worrisome when you see the bags under his eyes darken, and the weariness in his smile grow.

“Childe,” you call, brows furrowed. “Come inside— it’s late.”

From where he stands at the balcony overlooking the harbor in all its nighttime glory, Childe turns back to smile at you over his shoulder. It would be a pretty picture, you think— the person who treats you right and makes you happy, illuminated by the glowing lights of the beautiful city of contracts. The only thing that detracts from it is the heavy bags under his eyes, visible in even this low light.

“I’ll be right in. Feel free to go to sleep ahead of me,” is what Childe says, and a muscle in your jaw twitches.

Each step you take on the floor is audible in the silence that grows between you. When you’re just a few steps away, you scoff, eyes narrowing. “You look like shit, you know that?” Childe doesn’t even bother to rebut with an easygoing quip, knowing that it’s all too true.

“C’mon, Childe. Even you have to sleep sometime.” Gently, you take a hold of his wrist, tugging him backwards and away from the balcony rail. He doesn’t even bother to put up a resistance— maybe it’s because he’s too tired and he knows you’re all too right, but he lets you pull him back into the warmth of your space and to your bedroom, where you sit him down at the edge of your bed and stand before him. With a concerned frown, you reach up to cup his face and gently rub at the bags under his eyes with your thumb, and he lets you, head going limp against your hold. 

“You’re very overdue for some long, uninterrupted sleep,” you tell him matter-of-factly, cradling his head. “Is there any way I can help?”

“Sing for me?” He asks quietly, eyelids already drooping. “That Snezhenayan lullaby that I taught you. Please?”

“I… don’t know,” you tell him. “I doubt I can even pronounce all the words correctly—”

“Please?”

“…I… Alright.”

And by the archons did you try your hardest for him. Despite tripping over some of the more unfamiliar words, and fumbling the tune once or twice, damn it, you tried. And when you stopped for a breath and glanced at your redhead curled up on the bed, you could deem it all worth it— seeing him finally getting some rest was all you ever wanted.

⠀ 「 KOKOMI 」

A visitor to Watatsumi island. That’s all you ever were, at first. A traveling musician making the most of the Sakoku decree being lifted to finally see the entirety of Inazuma. Who would eventually leave to find other sources of inspiration.

That is, though, until the day that Kokomi wanders the streets of Borou Village and comes across the children laughing and dancing. In the center is you, playing your music and singing songs of adventure from far-off lands. 

“Feel free to seek me out whenever you’re in need of music, divine priestess,” you had told her that day.

“Good morning, Kokomi— I see you’re once more in need of my songs,” you greet with a smile, easily spotting the figure robed in pink and purple. As you approach, it’s like your very presence brings a song— one that soothes her stresses and has her forgetting the work that she had escaped from.

The divine priestess sighs, her poise slipping from her just the slightest bit. It’s a sight you can never grow tired of, seeing her so relaxed in your presence. “You can certainly say that,” Kokomi replies, already beginning to instinctively walk in the direction of the tree with the nook that she had begun to call her own space. You easily keep stride with her, already familiar with the path after so long. “It seems that there are problems popping up around Watatsumi one after the other. I always try my best to remedy them as soon as possible but alas— there is only so much even a divine priestess can do.”

“And it seems like you’ve still be trying to do more what you can do despite many people telling you to take it easy. Myself included, I’ll have you know.”

The divine priestess laughs, shaking her head, though you both already know that it’s true.

The walk to Kokomi’s hideout is a quick and easy one, and in no time at all you find yourselves at the foot of the beautiful tree. Kokomi finds her place on a fallen log, her view consisting of both you and the sprawling sight of the island. 

“So,” you start with a smile, settling down beside her, close enough that your sides touch and you can smell the ocean breeze on her clothes. “What kind of story are you interested in today, dearest priestess?”

As you count off all the stories you know —both ones that you’ve already regaled to her and ones that you haven’t— you count them off on your fingers. “There’s the story of the fair, tragic maiden who used to sing at the fountain in Mondstadt, or the green-clad hunter who once roamed the forests of Sumeru, or, actually, I don’t believe I had told you the story of Guili Assembly yet—“

You’re cut off, though, when Kokomi places a hand on yours, preventing you from holding any more fingers up. Your mouth dries, eyes staring at her in both surprise and intrigue.

“Actually the song I want to hear about today… would be about you, actually. If you don’t mind, of course!” She’s quick to correct herself. “I just realized that you’ve told me so many wonderful stories of the places you’ve been but… I don’t know as much about you as I would like to. A song about yourself— are you… would you sing that for me?”

It takes you a moment— one that you spend staring at her, wide eyed as you process her request. Then you smile, intertwining your hand with hers, reveling in the blush you see grow on her face. “I’d be more than happy to, priestess.”

⠀ 「 THOMA 」

It’s no secret that Thoma is a hard worker. He cooks, he cleans, he attends to the Kamisato Clan to the best of his ability. He does his best, but sometimes even he —the housekeeper extraordinare— falls a bit short.

The days have just been a bit busy, and with another festival coming up, the entire Yashiro commission has been in a tizzy trying to get everything sorted out. It certainly hadn’t been his intention to leave you for so long (even though you told him you understood.)

So as soon as he could, he cleared his schedule for you. Took you out for the afternoon in Inazuma city, spending time together petting the dogs and eating good food, with the intention to end it off watching the stars together in the cliffs by the estate.

“Today was really nice, Thoma,” you tell him, hand in his as you both sit on the cliff, legs dangling in the wind as you gaze upon the stars.There’s a small smile on your face as you glance away from him, too bashful to meet his gaze. “I’m… really glad we did this. I missed you a bunch, you know?”

Thoma gives your joined hands a squeeze, leaning in to place a soft kiss to your cheek that only serves to fluster you even more. “I’m glad too,” he admits, giving you back your space, but not letting go of your hand. “I was scared you’d want to break up with me after all that, y’know?”

At this, you snort, having to reign yourself back from bursting into laughter. “Really? Please, it’s gonna take much more than that to make me wanna break up with you.”

“Like?”

“Like stealing my food for example.”

Now it’s his turn to snort, jokingly shoving your shoulder with his own. “Even if I’m the one paying?”

“Hey, the moment that food is on my side of the table, you lose all custody, my guy.”

He laughs, then, and you join him not a second later. The two of you go back and forth for some time— bantering and joking and (on occasion) stealing quick kisses from the other. It’s something you had missed greatly when he was busy— this ease of being together. How it feels so easy and fun to talk about even the most mundane things with him.

“You know,” Thoma says suddenly, cutting into your previous topic. His eyes are trained on the ocean and the stars that settle in the sky, a wistfulness overtaking him. “When I was still with my mom in Mondstadt, she taught me this song. I only remember bits and pieces of it now, but she said that it was something that my dad had written for her, as a sign of his love.”

“You only remember bits and pieces?” You echo, and he nods. You fall silent for a while, mulling things over. “Can you… sing it for me?”

“Even if it’s not whole?” He asks, tilting his head, though he hadn’t refused. 

“Yeah! And I mean—“ there’s the bashfulness again, creeping back in little by little. “I mean, we can… try to fill in the gaps ourselves? Kinda like we’re writing our own song, you know?”

Thoma’s silent for a moment, still as he looks at you, and it’s almost enough to make you nervous and apologize instead. But he takes your joined hand and squeezes it, smiling to himself. “ Our own song… yeah, I’d like that a lot, actually.”

#Diluc x reader #Diluc Ragnvinder x reader #Childe x reader #Kokomi x reader #Sangonomiya Kokomi x reader #Thoma x reader #Genshin Impact x reader #bloru.sweetnspice #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #cw gn reader

[lephamquynhnhu]

Panacea

Chapter 6: Latent cinders

Dan Feng x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS/ TAGS: The reader has a default name, OOC, mentioned blood, violence. (This is a work of fanfiction, events are not aligned or relevant to the original work)

Word count: 2k2

Summary: He met you on a drizzling day when hydrangea fully bloomed on its field. Amidst the sea of mild pastel petals, Dan Feng never thought the flowery domain that intertwined your fate was the precise thing withered with you. They said he was a dragon, a hero, a sinner, but never a person with love, hatred, sorrow, or joy like everyone else in this world. However, it was a demi-truth. He committed the cardinal sin because of you.

Note: Finally, I am back! My thesis defense went successfully, and I immediately returned to finish this story. Thank you to readers who still follow Panacea.

Do you like...depression?

As if the tragedy found you everywhere like hawks snipped corpses, it bore fangs into your throat til the end when another dire scene unfolded right before your very eyes. They bombarded the Devourers' base to destroy the minimum trace of their shameful project and covered the truth permanently. Although this was a predictable outcome you had already foreseen, it was unbearable to witness everything transformed into cinders. You numbly stood in the world of sorrow and ashes as your feet rooted into the ground, air frosted in your lungs.

When the last survivor of Devourers after Denizen of Abundance III thought of suicide, a weak sound crackled under the ruins, which attracted you rushing toward the source. Ignoring the tingling sensation that burnt your bare hands, you dug through opaque objects and black charcoal until Pumpkin's wet nose touched your scratched fingers. However, precarious happiness quickly dissolved into thin air like bubbles as you realized he was dying. A glass jar fell off his jaw when Pumpkin left some fragile whines to roll the inhibit serum to you. His golden fur got burnt because the flame touge fired half of the dog's body, and a ribcage bone pierced his liver. Beneath the wreckage were Pumpkin's footprints blurring on black soil, which translated that he could have run away but chose to return to retrieve the inhibited serum and got stuck.  

Your veins nearly popped out since you were compressing the sentiment. You did not want Pumpkin to see your tears, so you stayed strong til his last breath. Nevertheless, you could not hold back anymore as he licked your hand, and Pumpkin's soul left the world full of ashes. 

As if things were not even worse, Yaoqing soldiers appeared in the nick of time you were mourning over the last member's death. Your head felt empty, and all energy surged out when they handcuffed you to lead out the crumble base. Upon the shrinking display, crows started hovering around Pumpkin to knock their beaks, and some of the flock found a fine seat to feat. Members of Devourers of Abundance Abominations did not have a proper grave when they died, and neither should you. Perhaps the Yaoqing Authorities would order a butcher to execute you in private with a burial service called vultures or keep you alive to research another biological weapon of the next generation. (More talent and more preeminent.) 

A psychological voice vibrated scatter clauses snapped you out of the nullifying state: "I always dreamt of a field with bloom hydrangea." and "Please live happily from now on." 

Huang Yuan guaranteed not to divert the holy arrow toward Xianzhou, yet he did not assure of unsighted loyalty. With your now completed heart that attained human emotions, Yaoqing's action was the last straw of your tolerance, which led to the decision to become a deserter. 

The raven wings smote into the thick ambiance and soared through dark trees when they heard the wind seething. Their inky feathers took time to levitate over the monochromatic scenery and landed ground soundlessly. 

Before fleeing from your homeland, you implemented a proper burial for Pumpkin and others. Nothing existed besides ruins, crypts, and dried blood on the soil. There was no evidence of struggles. 

Yaoqing publicized your identification and declared your wanted posters across Xianzhou ships, even spreading them to their friendship planets with the crime of murdering six Cloud soldiers and desertating. Nonetheless, you cleverly stowed away on a merchant ship traverse to Talia and fabricated your papers. Thanks to the unstable regime, you could easily steal a certified ID card and then live under a camouflage named Yi Ting for years. When things settled down, and the Yaoqing assumed your death due to the short longevity of Devourers, they revoked wanted orders but deported your existence instead. 

It is hard to be in exile, yet you do not feel regrettable. Living in Zhuming for three years, learning gardening, and studying some botanical effects to suppress your symptoms, you moved to Loufu. 

Since the upheaval on that Spring night, you and Dan Feng have officially been together but in secret. Despite comprehending and being aware of your sins circumstantially, he decided to stay by his guilty lotus. As for you, it is a miracle as you can breathe even surpassing your due date long ago, yet the stone still burdens the High Elder's shoulder when your health goes downward. None of his treatments affect your state, as well as the imitated serum. In contrast, you are well informed about your limited time but accept the upcoming death and enjoy the rest days. 

Tomorrow is the tenth ceremony of winning Denizen of Abundance III, and you want to do the soul-soothing ritual for your comrades. Because you finally let old memories go and are ready to bid them a proper goodbye. At first, the Long Scion hesitates to follow your wish since the windy weather might impact your delicate status, yet opposing his beloved determination, Dan Feng gives in.

"If I sense any abnormal signs, we will return immediately." 

He places the test tube down to gently cup your face, and a familiar influx of ambergris with fresh herb flies from his sleeves; he smells like tranquility as always. A short implied hum drumming through your chest, vibrant the vocal fold as you close your eyes to lean on the comfortable heat that Dan Feng radiates off.

Maroon and scarlet added some citric flavor of lemony yellow that notifies another lustrous Autumn. Luofu's landscape endues its seasonal cloth with the mellow air of juicy grass as you and the Long Scion stroll to the town. Xianzhou natives are busy preparing their last things for the special ceremony, which even causes a more vibrant ambiance than usual days. 

You are excited to explore new aspects of Aurum Alley after days of lying in bed while Imbibitor Lunae trailing behind with a paper fan. A plain texture of ivory hue painted white lotus and writing a stanza poem by ancient letters. The embroidered crane wings seemingly move simultaneously with his actions. You find it bizarre to see him wear other accessories besides his single earring, but Dan Feng looks unexpectedly ronin. 

After the High Elder turns his heels to buy some sweets at a nearby delicacy pavilion, an outstanding story of Xiyan reaches your ears and catches your wandering mind. 

"Devourers of Abundance Abominations was an undead army that had contracted with Yaoshi in return for their pseudo immortality. The mercenary served under different lords in the cosmos and eventually betrayed them. However, their existence abruptly disappeared when those gist monsters fought for the enemy's side in Denizen of Abundance III. Some said the Reignbow Arrow wiped out..."

Enough of hearing a bunch of absurdity, so you cannot help but charge at Xiyan's collar and curse his story. Despite the excavating status, your eyes are bloodshot with murderous intention gleaming in irises, and your long-forgotten muscles progressively grow under the black gloves. Upon that quarrel, the crowd assembles due to human curiosity. 

"You mundane did not know anything about them and dared to mislead other people with your nonsense fairy tale? Devourers did not contract with the Plague Author to exchange for their blessings! They are human, and they are Xianzhou citizens! The Yao..." - This time is your voice trailing off at the forbidden name as a familiar hand stays firm on your shoulder to awaken your sanity. 

"I'm so sorry. My niece seems still under the effects of History Fictionologists and oblivious to the proper history." - The Long Scion quickly intercepts with a made-up reason to explain on behalf of you for causing the ruckus, and his protective arm wraps around you as a habit to prevent the counter gets any further. The ill-intent aura that you are giving off coils inside its cell as you mutter a decent apology quietly and then blend in. 

On the road to the Exalting Sanctum, you savor a sweet skewer Dan Feng handed over with a crestfallen face in muteness. All the joy seemingly disappeared after your encounter with Xiyan, so you two had better keep silent. 

Lining up your long-arm comrades' mementos to send off is another challenging task since touching them again meaning open the old wound. They did not leave any specific tools that belonged to them; if they had, their possessions returned to voidness. Thus, using things that remind you of them is most appropriate. Irene's Polaroid, Huang Yuan's photo, the comms device you last saw Jia Xi, and the promise you could not complete: Zi Wen's proposing ring. The nose bridge starts stingingly burning hot as you brush against the cheap metal. He must put all effort into creating his sacred vow to Irene, yet it is unsent forever.  

Your paper lantern airily ascends aloft and mixes with others, illuminating a solemn beige color that carries away people's sentiments. Watching them flow into a celestial river that flies across the cerulean sky, a glassy teardrop unknowingly rolls down your chin. Imbibitor Lunae pensively follows the glittering stream and holds your hand without diverting his gaze because he knows you do not want him to look at you. 

The sole solace you can seek from outsiders is Dan Feng's firm grip. 

Evening light is dense like a veil of maltose, pouring under the gravel path, and sometimes stones crunching under your shoes. People and inhabitants are getting loose with the new moon vaguely manifests, and the Big Dipper is over their heads. In this hour, the red velvet sun does not just glare upon realms below but also dyes maple trees into a crimson hue, shrouding you in the warm color of late Autumn. While you and Dan Feng stride back to the Faery Forest, an unexpected wind blowing through causes the scenery to quiver, and then maple leaves compete to fall. Unable to resist the poetic spectacle, your doe eyes morph from admiration to excitement as you dart forward to dance in the scarlet drizzle. When twirling around to find the High Elder, you bring along a glittering gold halo that gleams around, and he figures that his world has shrunk to your blissful smile in that momentary. However, strict wrinkles start forming as Dan Feng rushes toward you to aid your balance, indicating your free time is overdue. 

You two then take a break and watch the sunset together at a nearby wooden pavilion. The precedent breeze seems harsher than you thought because the Long Scion's disheveled hair now entangles with a red maple leaf, but he looks unbothered. You tenderly comb the long locks by hand and secretly commend its velvety between your fingers. 

"Feng, will you place a flower on my grave when I die?" - The enthralling activity may cast a spell on you as the sentence jumps out before you realize it. In contrast, a slight reprimand tone in Imbibtor Lunae's stern voice suggests that he is unwilling to engage in that topic, yet it is counter-productive since you want to press it further. An annoying feeling tingles on his visage when hearing that question twice, so Dan Feng leans forward to prevent you from the third chance to repeat. You immediately retreat behind like instinct and place both hands on his chest to stop him. 

"We are in public!" - Your hiss is no louder than a whisper as the astonishment trucked you with his boldness since the High Elder never wishes to attract crowd attention. Even if there is no one around, it is still a modicum possibility that people may catch. Nonetheless, your resistance is futile when Dan Feng's arm hugs behind to pull you closer, and his other hand opens the paper fan to make a flowery triptych, shielding your kiss from outsiders' eyes. The freshness and lightly spicy flavor of cinnamon with mellow sweetness like honey causes you to feel weak, and your heart quivers to the point of ache. 

"I won't let that happen." - You could hear the message loud and clear through his movement. Despite your lifespan getting its due day and there is no way the High Elder is capable of reversing death, you want to believe in his words. He silently puts a square box into your hand and encourages you to open it with a nervous emotion that carefully hides beneath his usual stoic face. 

A pair of earrings made from emeralds and share the same design as his. Their colors are as glassy as Autumn pond, as green as his eyes. Yesterday, Imbibitor Lunae gifted you three stocks of brocade and two meters of peach silk; today is the pledge of love. 

"You really do want to marry me?"

"Yes. Please promise you will watch maple leaves with me next year, the next ten years, and every year." 

The sound of Celest-Gold rings deafening around the restrained milieu, prevailing forthcoming footsteps. Under the dullness and stuffiness of Premilinary jail, Dan Feng finally found a clue to cure your lethal condition. That is the reason why he accepted to testify Primus Immortus. The prisoner is soon to be transferred to the Shakle jail due to the crime of Production of the Elixir of Immortality. 

#honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #dan feng x reader #dan feng x you #dan feng fanfic #hsr dan feng #hsr dan feng x reader

[sazabi-rot]

Aight, so I'm just gonna post a quick excerpt from my Charmuro fic under the cut. I could use some pointers because I feel like I write Amuro really ooc, which pains me greatly. I'm also not the best at writing, so bear with me.

This is also a major au that doesn't make much sense, but whatever, it's a fanfic.

It was a funny thing, how quickly his life had fallen apart.

He wasn't unused to his life being controlled and meticulously planned out without his own wellbeing in mind by others, all for the sake of the 'Greater Good.' The seven years spent in enforced isolation after his performance in the One Year War was proof of that enough. Instead of being applauded for his efforts in defending Earth he was instead hidden away, deemed too powerful and 'dangerous' for contact with the outside world. Too much of a potential threat.

Yet another drafted teenager, being punished in one way or another for his service.

Though even that didn't seem as egregious as what he was now being subjected to.

The arranged marriage to the leader of Neo Zeon was purely political, Bright had explained, looking at Amuro with that same tired sympathy the younger man had grown so accustomed to during their time serving and knowing one another. It spoke a thousand words that were otherwise left unsaid as he broke the news and Amuro didn't have to parse through them all very hard to understand the general idea being communicated.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry something like this is happening again to you. You don't deserve it.

Amuro was sure Bright was sent by the leaders of Londo Bell in an attempt to soften the blow of the announcement, but he didn't much care for any sort of attempted platitudes. That didn't mean however he would take his anger out on Bright.

There was someone else he had in mind who was much more deserving.

Bright let out a long, heavy, sigh and wiped a hand across his face. It was a face that held a permanent sense of exhaustion and belied his true age, war and leadership being thrust upon his shoulders at such a young age that left him looking much older than he actually was. Amuro sometimes had to remind himself that the other man was only a few scarce years older than himself. "I'm sorry, Amuro," Bright finally said, at the end of the formal speech he was sure the Commander had been prepped on. "I tried everything I could to get you out of this. There's just no way."

He didn't respond for a moment, staring down at the half full glass of whiskey cupped between his palms. Bright had told him he had news when he arrived, and the look in his eyes had told Amuro it wouldn't be anything he would be particularly fond of. So, he did what he always did when situations like these arose that he knew could potentially be taxing.

He had poured a drink.

He tipped back the glass and gratefully drank down the amber draught, accustomed by now to the burn. "I suppose it's expected I'd be the one picked by him. Char always did have an odd fascination towards me I felt."

Bright blinked at him, his brows furrowing. "Amuro... Char didn't arrange this. Londo Bell proposed an arranged marriage for peace's sake. They deemed you the best candidate due to you two's... past."

Amuro's eyes widened momentarily and he stiffened, before sinking back into the couch he had been seated on and looking down again into the now empty glass. He glanced towards his liquor cabinet and thought for a moment.

He would need to restock by the time tonight was over.

"Ridiculous," He muttered darkly. "Our 'past?' Which one? The one where we were comrades for a few short weeks? Or the time before, where we nearly killed each other more times than I can remember." He huffed a humorless laugh. "What a brilliant plan."

Bright looked at him closely. "I don't like it anymore than you do. But aside from you, there's no one that knows him anymore. Not in the same way, at least. You may not believe it, but you're the best bet we have. I saw you two aboard the Argama together, at Dakar, and all throughout the One Year War. Some sort of understanding exists between you two."

A white hot flash of anger licked at Amuro's insides at the words coming from the man sitting opposite him. He and Char hardly knew each other. What was a few weeks of tolerating each other in comparison to the years of bitterness and hatred? What did it matter if they had reached an understanding towards the very end of their days aboard the Argama when Char's current policy of eco-terrorism and dictatorial rulership over Neo Zeon went against everything Amuro believed in? Everything they had seemingly promised each other?

No, he was not their best bet. It was more likely he would end up murdering the other man before the first month had passed, and where would their peace treaty be then? In the grave, six feet under along with the lives of countless of innocents.

There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say to get through to Char anymore. Nothing he wanted to say to him either.

He grit his teeth, hands tightening on his glass.

Bright sighed again, this one just as heavy and resigned as the last. "The ceremony will be held in two weeks time. After that you'll join Char in the Principality of Zeon. You're... encouraged to stay near, for the first year, at least."

Amuro mulled over it silently for a moment before replying tonelessly "So I'm a prisoner again."

That earned him a stern glare, but one without any real malice. "That's not what I said."

"It's what you meant."

He heard Bright stand and felt a large hand land on his shoulder. "Please, Amuro. It won't be like before."

Amuro didn't respond, nor did he look up at Bright.

No. It'll be worse.

At his refusal to respond, at least verbally, Bright huffed. "It's set in stone. There's nothing more to be done."

He heard Bright collect his things and finally lifted his head to watch as the other man shrugged on his coat, hand stilling on the doorknob as he looked over his shoulder at Amruo's still seated figure.

"You're a fighter, always have been. You'll make it through this." He paused before continuing, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Besides, you've kicked his ass before. There's no doubt in my mind if he gets out of line you can do it again."

With a nod and a solemn look in his eyes, Bright turned back towards the door and left, stepping into the chill night air.

Though the door was only open a few seconds at most, Amuro couldn't help feeling like the cold air swept into his house, creeping through the halls and lingering far longer than it should have.

-----

The wedding was arranged for a clear and crisp autumn day, and Amuro wasn't sure if to consider it a small mercy it was allowed to be held on Earth or instead view it as a mockery, that his last day on the planet for the foreseeable future was such a lovely one despite it being what felt like the definitive end of his life.

He refused a tuxedo or elaborate custom suit (both ever so gratefully offered by Londo Bell). He chose his mess dress uniform instead, the absolute closest he was to getting away with wearing his pilot suit which he would have preferred. He hoped he evoked the image of a soldier going off to battle, as opposed to a willing groom.

He doubted anyone else saw it that way, that he had essentially been drafted yet again.

At present he sat waiting in his private chamber for the ceremony to begin, a room that looked far too lavish and gaudy for his taste. In fact the whole venue was, he had surveyed the ornate hall in which his life would be soon sighed away before he has been herded to where he currently was, and found it distasteful. Large, marble walls and floors with golden streaks traversing said stone, tapering up into a domed stained glass ceiling, dozens of polished wood pews facing the alter where he would stand face to face with Char once again.

His stomach turned at the thought, and he swallowed down a lump in his throat.

Char, Casval, Édouard, Quattro.

He wondered who would stand opposite of him at the alter today.

"Amuro?"

He didn't need to turn around to recognize the hesitant voice of Fraw Bow calling out to him from the now open doorway of his chamber. She looked at him with the familiar, pinched expression of worry he was so accustomed to seeing on her face. All their time together growing up had taught him her tells well. He remained staring straight ahead, sitting stiffly with a look of resignation directed at the flowered wallpaper in front of him.

"Amuro, please," she tried again, a note of pleading in her tone this time. The click of her heels could be heard on the floor as she approached him, until he could sense her presence directly behind him. "Please, speak to me."

"There's not much to say, is there?" He replied in an irritated snap before he tempered himself. Fraw Bow was not at fault here. She did not deserve any of his ire just like how Bright did not deserve to be shot for being the messenger. He took a deep inhale before finally shifting in his chair so he could face his longtime friend. "Forgive me, Fraw Bow. I didn't... I didnt mean to lash out at you."

Her face was set in fond yet sad smile as she looked down at him, a slender hand going to run through his curls soothingly. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, exhaling yet again. This time he was considerably more comforted. "I could hardly blame you right now, even if you had meant to," she replied, pulling her hand back. Amuro opened his eyes and caught sight of the gold band on her ring finger and swallowed thickly. The reminder of Hayato and Katz stung at his heart, a burning and searing pain that branded their names on his heavy conscious.

He averted his eyes. Now wasn't the time.

"Still." He said somewhat lamely, unsure of what to say in response. He wasn't used to not being held accountable for his actions, but ever since the marriage was announced everyone who still remained in his life had been treating him like glass. As if this was any worse than the countless other atrocities he had been forced to endure.

it was, it was so much worse, he couldn't stand it and he wanted out, wanted out now

"Now, now," she said softly, hand moving to rest on her hip. "No need for that. You'll- you'll be fine." Her voice wavered only slightly, betraying her true feelings and doubts about the matter. Amuro sighed heavily upon hearing her voice crack but straightened up again in his seat.

"Alright. Alright then, Fraw." He said neutrally, not believing a word either one of them were saying. For the first time he cautioned a glance at the ornate clock situated above the entrance to his dressing room. Five minutes. Five minutes until he needed to leave this enclosed little piece of safety he was situated in.

#fanfiction #help #gundam #mobile suit gundam #amuro ray #char aznable #charmuro #amuchar #bright noa #fraw bow

[wingsofachampion]

OOC

I liked writing that "what makes writing Tropius different from writing human characters" post, so I decided to elaborate!

Tropius is a lens to look at the world with wonder and awe. A rose-tinted lens, yes, but a rose tint doesn't mean that the underlying beauty is false. She's a character who is filled with joy at things we take for granted, and finds meaning and amazement in the little things. A solar panel on a roof, a library full of books, even something as mundane as a sidewalk, she finds wonder in them.

You can call the glass half empty as much as you'd like, but it doesn't change the fact that it's half full, too.

#ooc

[littlerachelawrites]

Warning: a little ooc (?) | fluffie-smuttie (?) | sugestive

Clouds of steam covered every touchy places, but you was still nervous seeing Otto waiting for you in the bath, half-naked. Only steam and towel on his hips protected you from seeing him in full his naked glory. He gave you warm smile, but in this was something... different. It wasn't the same smile, which he bestowed to you usually, but you felt that his message in this smile was a little bit... ambiguous and heralded something a bit different than only a shared bath.

It's not like that you're shy or... something similar. It's not like that... you don't like it...

You marched with perky step to the edge of bath and after a few moments dipped in warm, relaxing water, joining Otto, who chuckled at your suddenly confident behavior. He bring his body closer to you, and surrounding you warm water instead calming you only intensified the baking and pink coating in your cheeks.

This fucking warm water don't help me...

Otto, despite his closing to you, didn't touch your skin even small finger. He only took a glass of his favourites, red wine and started drink this with undisguised pleasure. You tried didn't staring at his delightful lips and you tried didn't think about his unspoken promises. You blushed more, when your imagination jumped out in a bigger works.

— Are you okey, my dear? — he asked tearing you off from your fantasies.

Perhaps, it's only my imagimation... Perhaps, he's normal, but I add at this second bottom...

Suddenly, his fingers touched your shoulders. Otto's second hand landed at your waist, he asked, this time closer at your ear, again:

— Are you okey, my dear? Can I help you?

You clenched your legs at his words and tone. Sweet of honey for his voice mixed with a little bit lower tone led your mind to strange condition. His fingers still made circles on your shoulder. Second hand moved to your face a full of blush.

— We can relocate to my room and I can help you here. — his voice wasn't nothing bigger than silent, seductive whisper. Your body trembling under his touch, as always when he promised you help in his room.

— Ehhhh... what this help is supposed to be about? — you wanted to your voice was more confident than this, but those hands.

His hands didn't left your skin and body; those finger already touched every your body parts in this moment, sending shakes of pleasure. You really wanted be quite, but how this can possible, when the most handsome man in your life touched your body with almost surgical precision.

— So... how will it be? — his lips touched your earlobe.

Your mind was empty; you stood up to attention, but your towel...

You tried found towel using your gaze and luckily you quickly found it in water. As fast as you found this towel, you tried cover up.

— Hahhahaha... — his laugh bounded the wall of bath. — Don't worry, I already seen your naked body.

It's true... It's even more than true. He already seen you naked, not the first time, and not the last time...

Your mind was messy, and his move as grabbed your hips, didn't help your condition. Obviously, he got up too and towered over your silhouette.

— So... I guess must ask again... — he started but you break his monologue.

— N-no. You d-don't need r-repeat this. A-and y-y-yes... — you swallowed saliva. — I c-c-can go with you to your r-r-room...

— Excellent. — he smiled with a little bit more dark smile, which you already didn't see, because you both leaved bath and headed towards hangers with bathrobes.

#honkaimpact3rd #honkai 3rd #honkai impact #honkai x reader #hi3 #hi3rd #honkai otto #otto apocalypse x reader #otto apocalypse #otto x reader #honkai drabble #honkai fanfic

[levmada]

oh my god i’m so late but for the 1k event, could you do modern kitty!levi and reader- hurt/comfort with reader comforting levi after (or during) one of his heats (he feels especially vulnerable and weak then) with 1, 5, and 13

i fucking adored writing your request. hurt comfort + kitty levi = my eternal happiness

content/warnings: gn!Reader, subdrop, misunderstandings, lots of hurt/comfort, ooc Levi??, hybrids; heats (kitty Levi)

wc: ~.8k

Levi feels an innate but unmistakable emptiness crawl inside his chest and weigh like a boulder after you slip away from the bed when he has scarcely caught his breath.

He's fucking disgusting, sweat pasted all over his body, even his belly where drying cum is caked. Lube a fucking mess between his legs. Spit and hickies, too. His dick actually feels raw.

Heat is still there, but satiated for now, like a dull warmth permeating his blood. Like a sickness that won't go away.

The state the bed is in, you'll have to wash the sheets because he's just too weak to do it on his own (he knows this well). He'll probably be busy resting up when it drives in again at full-force.

Another innate but unmistakable urge, the one to gather up a bunch of clothes or towels (anything that smells like you) up like a nest wrestles with the hunk of black feeling.

He is disgusting.

And every three months you have to put up with him like this. Sure, the sex is great, but only up to a certain point for you. You can't keep up with him the whole time for obvious reasons, and the ending is always the same: this disgusting mess.

When you come back in, towels and fresh clothes folded under your arm, a tall glass of water in your other hand, Levi is curled up on his side and facing away from you. His lower half is under the blankets for some reason; that has to be uncomfortable. Why is he hiding?

"Levi?"

He hunches up, ears lurching back.

And then it hits you: he's going through a subdrop.

It's no surprise, really. He exhausted himself to the point of collapse before, and you're only midway through his heat. You shouldn't have left him, but you're here now.

You hurry to set the water on the bedside, grunting softly as your backside falls on the bed. Sore.

"I got you some water," you encourage.

You lay a hand on his shoulder, but he only tenses.

"Baby, c’mere, let me hold you—”

His head shoots around with a harsh shrug, shoving you off. "Leave me alone."

You gape. "What?"

Your voice is light. Too light.

Levi hurts. He curls up much more, and wraps his arms around himself like a hug.

You rake your memories for explanations. The very last thing Levi ever wants during heat is to be left alone. It doesn't make sense.

"I don't understand," you murmur. He hasn't even left the bed yet, when it's positively soiled with a variety of messes. "I'm not leaving you like this, Lee. Can you stand up?"

"You left first," he grunts. It sounds raw.

"I—?"

And then it hits you. As soon as you were finished, you got out of bed without even a kiss... but only to clean up.

You're about to argue when you realize it will make no difference to Levi, the state of mind he's in. Either you stay or you don't, and you didn't. Maybe he even felt abandoned.

"Oh, honey... Can I touch you? I don't wanna leave you. Please."

Shrug. He isn't looking at you.

You take this as an affirmative and reach out to reassure him. Your hand lands in his hair, stroking his scraggly bangs from his face and scratching behind his ears.

Victory thrums in you as a light purring immediately bubbles to the surface, only to be cut by a short silence. A sob.

Your lips part once again. This time you shuffle much closer, continuing your soft scratches, even as Levi squirms to hide his face in his hands.

“Shh," you soothe. "It's okay. I’m here.”

"I didn't mean to," you try to comfort. "I guess I... got caught up in routine. That doesn't mean I don't wanna be near you."

"No," he hisses back. His ears flatten. "That's just it: it's routine. You're sick and tired of it."

"No, Levi," you breathe, echoing him. "Never."

If he wasn't in heat, this wouldn't be your Levi, but after coming down so many times, combined with being as sensitive as a raw nerve with the heat, it makes sense.

Levi is a little ball under the sheets. "Fuck, I'm disgusting. I'm so stupid."

He should've known he was overthinking it. How could he... doubt you?—Doubt your loyalty? Or love?

"It's understandable. I know." You shuffle down beside him, at his back, and drape an arm around his waist. "I'm here. I'm gonna help clean you up, okay?"

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "Fucking crybaby."

"No, sweetie. There’s no shame in crying, I promise. Let's get you cleaned up.”

A little nod.

You squeeze him tight with a kiss to his temple before tugging the sheets off his shoulders. He kicks them the rest of the way before your arms scoop him up, to your chest.

He chirps, eyes widening with alarm. By instinct, his arms shoot up and cling to your neck. "What're you—?"

"What does it look like? Let's go start the bath."

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#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi hurt/comfort #levi ackerman x you #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi smut #levi ackermann x reader #1k.event #g.scribe

[doing-something-unholy]

♱ About ♱

18+ only, minors dni

Text post tag: #Father Speaks

Ooc tag: #Father Rambles

Pictures of me: #in persona Christi

Audios: #literally ;) or on soundgasm at /u/sinhound

Aesthetic tag: #aes

Art tag: #art

---

Taken anon signatures: dream,🐱,🖤,🍃,🐇,🛐,♡,🪐,🌺,🌌,🐲,🔪,☦️,👁,🥺,☿,🦇,👑🖤,🪽

Likes, favorites bolded: Hierophilia, c*tholic priests, collars, bondage, cnc, humiliation, praise, terato, blood, mild knife play, breeding, abo, petplay, age difference, size difference, edging, overstim, dirty talk, objectification, fucked up dynamics (in fiction! think Hannibal), power imbalance, manipulation, corruption, orgasm control, cum

… to be continued ;)

Limits: detrans/misgendering, misogyny kinks, piss/any body fluids that arent cum, blood, or spit, raceplay, weight-based degredation/feederism

Rp preference: I honestly get super nervous in the dominant role with anonymous people, I strongly prefer playing the submissive. If you're dead-set on getting me to dom please send me an ask with your limits and likes! I won't publish it, but it really helps me to know what you'd like from the scene <3

---

Father Adrian Lupine is in his early 20’s, average height, and heavy-set. He has curly, wavy auburn hair that reaches the top of his collar, and soft features: brown doe-eyes with long lashes, a round jawline, a button nose, and full lips with a defined cupid’s bow. He has square glasses. He’s a little (a lot) insecure about his looks, his weight and ‘soft-ness’ in particular. If he were completely honest with himself, he really doesn’t mind being ‘pretty’ instead of ‘handsome’ (though he wouldn’t describe himself as either.) but he was teased mercilessly for it when he was younger, by his peers and his parents.

Adrian is bisexual, with a slight preference for men or masc people, and has known since he was 14. He also grew up Catholic, and knew to keep his mouth shut about it. He is completely in denial about being anything other than a cis man, but is still very respectful of other people.

Adrian is mostly submissive and a bottom, but can be persuaded to dom/top, and is secretly very kinky for a priest. He might not have much or any practical experience, but he does have an internet connection and fantasizes a lot. 

Adrian is outwardly very friendly and polite, soft-spoken and kind. Inwardly, he’s anxious and lonely, feeling stifled by the collar while being terrified to lose the stability priesthood offers. He is very aware of the reputation of the Church, and notices who shies away from him when he’s wearing the collar. He knows there’s nothing he himself can do about that, but he goes out of his way to be as polite as possible in public, finding small ways to make sure people know he’s not ‘like that’, that he won’t berate others for not being a part of his religion. It’s really only on very rare occasion, usually alone, late at night, and post bottle of wine, that he allows himself to wonder why he became a priest knowing full well what the church is like. 

Recently graduated from seminary and moved to St. [Name Pending] about a year and a half ago, but much of that first year was spent not holding mass. Instead it was spent renovating the church, which had sat empty for almost a decade. The building itself was quite grand back in the day, but the town it’s in has seen slight decline in recent decades, and after the last priest died it wasn’t a priority to keep it updated. Adrian secretly suspects the diocese put him here specifically to get him out of the way after being a little too open with ‘constructive criticism’ of the Church while in seminary. St. [Name Pending] is a very quiet parish, not a lot of catholics left in town these days, and Adrian is doing his best to make his church useful in ways that aren’t strictly religious: community food gardens, charity drives, movie nights, anything he can to build his reputation with the community. It’s a shame he has secrets that leave him afraid to let anyone get too close, lest he get reported to the diocese. 

—————–

AU's: Adrian is a human cis man by default, but if you want to rp with him in any au’s just let me know! The main two options are transmasc and/or werewolf, but im down for just about anything. put this man in situations ;)

—-

The person behind the blog is 23, transmasc, bisexual, and I am definitely not catholic. You can call me Wolf, just put ooc in an ask if you want to ask me something. I will probably get something about being a priest wrong but this is a smut blog so is it really that deep?

This is a sideblog! I won’t be able to follow you back, reply to posts, or send asks.💔

#about #father speaks #father rambles #in persona christi #literally ;) #aes #art #updated 3/31/24

[just-miru]

I posted 23,629 times in 2022

That's 23,489 more posts than 2021!

1,195 posts created (5%)

22,434 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@coffeeandconfusion

@terrence-self-ships

@irummna

@/shinekittenace

@/poormeowmeowcollector

I tagged 12,385 of my posts in 2022

Only 48% of my posts had no tags

#blueycapsules - 1,733 posts

#the lovable bastard &lt;3 - 1,727 posts

#my beloved - 942 posts

#sillies you'll look again - 921 posts

#william afton - 750 posts

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#dave miller - 490 posts

#so true - 459 posts

#irummna answers - 430 posts

#hehe yesss - 404 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#jesse we need to thank me tho for the first time in two weeks and i have a question for the silly little picture above the other hand oh my

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

[Blueycapsules]

Dave Miller x reader

-------------------------------------------------------------

i got this idea from a small one-shot with Ayano Aishi written by Ck_TvN on Wattpad :D

since our boi Dave is on my mind constantly, i decided to give it a shot and write a small x (gender neutral) reader fanfic with him because yes :D

not to mention, there is almost nothing for/with him out there :(

with Blueycapsules version of Dave/William, i mean

my first time writing something like this, so it might be total shit, but it doesn't matter :D

also, Dave might be a bit ooc since i haven't done anything like this before, so yeah

there is a first time for everything, so here we go-

[tw: small mention of alcohol (wine) | possible typos and/or other small mistakes | also, it's first-person point of view, so no pronouns are used for the reader - idk, though i should mention it | nothing else, only crack | fluff | one-shot]

[word count: 1,050 words | 5,274 characters]

[first published: 14.02.2022]

[slightly edited: 16.02.2022]

-------------------------------------------------------------

untitled

chatter filled the small hotel room, muffling the small TV in front of us. sitting on a pretty comfy, brownish couch, a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table in front of it, me and Dave talk about everything and anything that comes to our minds as we wait for Phil and Jeremy to come back with the-

honestly, i don't even remember what they said they were going after. oh well-

we've grown pretty close to each other in the short period of time we have worked together - it's like we know each other for years. still, as we talk and talk, the time passes, and the conversation starts to die out, we both focused on whatever is playing on the TV; some sort of drama involving a woman and a vampire.

i mostly stare at the screen, lost in thought, not paying attention to what's happening between the two anymore.

bringing the glass to my mouth, i take a small sip of wine. 'it's kinda sweet' i think, then take another sip.

Dave looks towards me

"so... yer single?" he asked out of nowhere, with a playful tone and a small glint of what seemed to be hope in his icy blue eyes - his usual shit-eating grin getting even wider as i choked on my drink. 'why was he asking that out of the sudden?' i thought to myself.

facing away from me, he takes a sip from his drink, eyeing me from the side while waiting for my answer, grin still on.

trying to re-composture myself, i clear my throat a bit, a small grin of my own starts tugging at the corners of my lips

"as a matter of fact, i am not."

i answer with such fake confidence that i am a little surprised he didn't seem to notice it. that, or he decided to play along with my silly game.

"who might the fella be?" he asked, moving his gaze away from me towards the TV, its lights dancing over his features.

my eyes focus on the half-empty glass in my hand as i say quietly "oh... no one, really..." looking over at him, i see his eyes still glued to the TV screen, head resting on his hand, no trace of the previous grin left on it.

"..."

See the full post

327 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

#4

for my very cool and awesome mutuals

[image/edit not mine]

391 notes - Posted May 10, 2022

#3

i mean-

yESS!!! gimmie!!! >:D

671 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

#2

See the full post

969 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

sillies look-

found a silly picrew :D

silly tags (no pressure, of course!): @coffeeandconfusion, @terrence-self-ships, @chuuyas--boo, @oc-x-cannon-on-main, @ninasrandomships, @just-slightly-unhinged, @spideygal and whoever whoever wanna join :D

1,672 notes - Posted August 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #ayooo

[ofodesseys-blog]

HI HELLO MY DEAREST PEACHES I’M CHANEL AND THIS IS LATE HANRUI!! i use she/her or they/them pronouns & am comin’ at u from pst. i’m super duper excited to be here——i can always be reached via dms or on d*scord @「 NUMBA ONE T-PAIN STAN#5503 」.  u can also slap that cute lil heart and i’ll hit u up!! but on to more important things——

( yang yang, cismale, he/him, twenty six. ) — ZHANG HANRUI, better known to the authorities as ODYSSEUS, has been working for the kumiho for around FIVE YEARS as a MAGICIAN. rumor has it, they can be OBSERVANT & IMPERTURBABLE but also FLIGHTY & AVOIDANT which is why the crack of a new deck of cards, impish grins, & the ebb and flow of the tide makes me think of them.

basics——

full name: zhang hanrui

nickname(s): henry ; odysseus

age: 26

hometown: hong kong

gender: cismale

pronouns: he/him

orientation: demisexual panromantic

occupation: professional magician ; magician for the kumiho

language(s) spoken: mandarin, cantonese, korean, limited english.

zodiac sign: libra

hogwarts house: ravenclaw

mbti: entp

background——

tl;dr: awkwafina’s character in oceans 8 meets shin lim???? yikes lol

born to a upper-middle class family in hong kong, hanrui’s thing was always music, particularly the piano. 

he started learning when he was four, and it became clear very quickly that he had prodigious talent. his parents——who weren’t bad parents, per se, but certainly weren’t ready to give up their high-powered jobs to settle down with a kid——encouraged his pursuits, enabling him to study the piano internationally. this was a pursuit that eventually led him to england, where he attended the purcell school for young musicians.

the magic thing actually started as a joke between him and his roommate at purcell, who thought that learning magic tricks would help them pick up girls ( or, in hanrui’s case, girls and boys lol ). hanrui realized that he actually really enjoyed doing magic, and kept up the practice even after the boys realized that literally nothing could help their chances.

hanrui ended up in seoul to attend a music conservatory, where everything was going great for him . . . until his senior year, when he developed acute carpal tunnel syndrome from over-practicing.

he took a sabbatical from his conservatory, but decided to stay in seoul. his parents wanted to him to work for one of their subsidiary businesses, but he didn’t?? want to?? 

as punishment they decided to cut him off financially; he took to busking magic tricks on the street bc transferable skills whomst?

and by busking i mean doing tricks but also swindling his audience bc tbh the rent isn’t gonna pay itself.

one day he made the unfortunate decision to try and scam the mastermind

and the rest, they say, is history.

( it’s actually not quite over; he eventually made the decision to drop out of school and pursue magic full-time, and he’s actually become pretty famous as a magician. and pretty infamous as a magician. )

personality & hcs——

very lowkey but honestly kind of a Big Drama Queen

exudes a lot of old man energy(tm) but it’s like kind of a front; is basically down for whatever after he gives a cursory “i’m too Old And Tired” argument

picked the name odysseus bc he feels like he’s Gone Through Shit

have i mentioned that he’s Secretly Dramatic

good at flirting his way into trouble,, not good at dealing with trouble

uhhh there are definitely more things i had in mind but they’re SLIPPIN and i gotta go to class!! but !! uh!!!! pls love him and also me sry this got q q long aaaaa

#kumiho.intro #「 GLASS HALF EMPTY / GLASS HALF FULL. 」 // ooc.

[arbitors]

henlo !! drop a like on this for an event starter ☆ ˚ *

or if u wanna plot in general bc there are !! so many new faces !! that popped up during my accidental lil mini-hiatus and i wanna get to know all ur beautiful kids !!

#「 GLASS HALF EMPTY / GLASS HALF FULL. 」 // ooc. #[ ads;flkj sorry for pullin a danny phantom goin ghost act ESPECIALLY to everyone in my dms rn ahah ha ] #[ i'm gonna get back to u asap rocky dw ] #[ but yea someone pls stop beaky boi from hiding at the dessert table the entire night lol ]

[seiyasabi]

Momma’s Boy

(This is a Yandere Severus Snape x Hufflepuff! Female Reader story :)) Sorry if this is too OOC!

TW: Bullying!, unhealthy feelings!, manipulation!, Mommy kink!, face sitting!, creampie!, Femdom!, consensual sex!, etc..

Please proceed with caution!)

A wide hand smacks his books from his hands, casting everything onto the cobblestone floor. A soft sigh leaves the blach haired man’s mouth, as he slowly looks up from his belongings, to see a smirking Sirius Black. 

“Watch where you’re going, Snape-boy,” The four males let out ugly laughs, eyes filled with mockery. Severus says nothing, moving to pick up his things, only to be stopped by James. 

“Don’t think that we’ll let you off the hook that easily,” The brunet’s glasses gleam with a dark delight, making the bullied boy gulp in fear, “We’ve seen you creep around that cute hufflepuff- what was her name again?” He pretends to think, allowing a grinning Peter to take over. 

“Yeah, you’ve been creeping around that cutie, (Your Name), for far too long. We’ve noticed you following her like a kicked puppy,” Remus shoves Severus into the wall, causing the 6’1 (1.85 m) man to hit it harshly. 

“Don’t think we haven’t noticed you telling her lies about us,” Confusion is clear on the tall man’s face, causing all four of them to scoff, “She refuses to hang out with us, because she claims we harass you! That’s not true, is it, Snape-boy?” 

“I-well, uhm-”

“I-well, uhm,” James mocks, a knowing grin on his devilish features, “Don’t be nervous, we won’t hurt you.”

“Well, you lot haven’t been too kind to me these past few years,” More scoffs echo off the cobblestone walls, making the tall man feel small. 

“That’s not true, and you know it. We’ve been joking around with you, because we’re friends, aren’t we?” Remus reassures condescendingly, “Plus, friends tell friends when they’re wrong. You’re wrong for pursuing (Your Name), because Remus, here,” He slaps the dirty blond man on the back good-naturedly, “Liked her first. So, having you around, writing in your creepy notebooks about her, will no longer be appreciated.” 

An angry flush covers Snape’s pale cheeks, “It-it’s not like that! (Your Name) is my friend, please don’t make me-”

“Make you? We never make you do anything. We’re just suggesting you leave her alone, unless you want us to take matters into our own hands.” 

Sweat beads on the brow of the black haired man, as he tried to look around for anyone willing to help. No one besides the five of them are in the hall. 

“No,” The four raise a collective eyebrow at his disobedience, “No, I won’t stop being friends with (Your Name). I don’t care what you do to me.”

“That’s sweet, really, but I’m going to have to change your mind,” Remus snarls, his hands balling into fists. In a swift motion, the dirty blond man starts to punch at Severus’ face and chest. The tall man doesn’t have time to put his hands up, getting wailed in the head and torso multiple times. 

The blond’s friends jump in as well, quickly bringing their victim to the floor. Their kicks and hits are rapid paced, disorienting him relatively quickly. He curls into the fetus position, trying to protect his head, luckily stopping their punches. 

His assault continues for a few moments more, before he’s dragged to his feet, and held against the wall by the collar of his shirt, “Are you going to leave her alone now?” 

Snape shakes his head, blood dripping down his face, entire body aching, “No, I won’t. I let you lot walk all over me for far too long. We’re in our last year, why are you acting as if we’re first years?” 

Remus tightens his grip around his collar, teeth bared like an animal, “That’s the wrong answer.”

The blond raises a fist to punch him once more, only to be stopped by a familiar voice. 

“What are you doing?” Your concerned voice rings through the hall, along with your running footsteps. Hurrying up to the group of boys, you start to shove at Remus, trying to break his hold on your close friend (crush), “Let him go! Are you crazy?” 

Your friends are seen down the hall, looking at you in both surprise and slight disdain, “(Your Name), stay out of their business. Once they settle it, everything will be fine-”

“You can’t honestly think that I’ll let them hurt Severus! He’s our friend, and-”

“Stop standing up for him, he’s a total creep. The Marauders are doing you a favour-” You block out what your friends are saying, continuing to push at the blond’s hands. 

“Stop it, Remus! Just leave him alone!” He quickly pulls away, causing you to sigh in relief, only for you to be the one pinned against the wall. Your friend is being held by the blond’s lackeys, holding him back from helping you. Your other friends watch on in horror.

“Why must you always get in my way, Love? I’m trying to teach him a lesson,” You wrinkle your nose in disgust, trying to wriggle out of his grip. 

“Don’t call me that. Just leave Severus and I alone. I understand that you have taken a liking towards me, but that doesn’t excuse your horrid behaviour. If anything, it makes me dislike you! You’re nasty, big headed, crude, and mean for virtually no reason! I don’t understand why you and your friends act this way-”

“He doesn’t deserve your affection!” He blurts out without thinking, his grip on your wrists tightening, “He hangs around you like a dark shadow, he makes everyone around him uncomfortable-”

“I think he’s cute,” You snap out uncharacteristically, “In fact, him following me around is harmless; you following me around, on the other hand, is very harmful. People are afraid to talk to me because of you, and he’s one of the only people who stayed being my friend. I don’t want to hear you talk badly about him, when he has made my life better than it was before.”

Remus releases you after a long moment of silence, a hurt look on his handsome features, “Fine. Stay with the freak if you want to, just don’t come crying to me-”

“I won’t. I won’t seek you out, ever,” The blond motions towards his friends, prompting them to release your friend. You hurry to the dark haired man, cupping his face with soft hands, “Are you alright, Severus? They didn’t hurt you too badly did they?” His lip trembles, signaling oncoming tears, prompting you to turn towards your friends and wave off their concern, “It’s alright, you guys go to class, I’ll take him to the nurse.”

They stalked off, Remus constantly looking back at you. Unfortunately for him, all of your attention is on a certain tall man. 

“Come along, Sev, let’s go to the nurse,” He shakes his head as he sobs uncontrollably, “No? Well, I can’t let you stay battered… Do you want to go to my dormitory? I’ll heal you there,” He nods, allowing you to half-drag-half-pull him towards the Hufflepuff dorm. You’d picked up his things and set them in your satchel, before heading off. Many cast the Slytherin man questioning looks, but quickly realised who was helping him. You’re known as one of the kindest souls at Hogwarts, so it’s not too unlike you to help the freaks of the school. 

Once in your room, you help him sit on your full size mattress. You share the room with only one other girl, leaving two empty beds between the both of you. Luckily, she’s out of the room, most likely at her boyfriend’s dorm room. 

Sitting beside him, you quickly pull out your wand, “This might feel a bit weird, but I promise I’m helping,” You murmur a healing spell to yourself, watching as his skin becomes smooth and even toned once more, “There we go! Good as-oh no, why are you crying again? Did it hurt?” 

Hearing your distraught voice, he tries to comfort you whilst bawling his eyes out, “Nu-no, no, you du-did nothing wu-wrong,” He throws his arms around you, bringing you into a tight hug, “It-it’s just… You treat me so well, and-and I love you so much-” He cuts himself off to hide his face in your neck. Oh no, he just accidentally confessed!

You giggle to yourself at his shy behaviour, and run a hand through his messy hair, “It’s because I love you too, silly,” When you say that, Severus practically feels his soul leave his body. His Darling loves him?

“You-you love me too?” Nodding against him, you cuddle him sweetly. You rub his back reassuringly, rocking him slightly. 

“Yep! I’ve liked you for the past few years, but I never had the courage to confess,” He raises his head, looking at you with watery eyes. 

“Really?” When you nod, he can’t help himself, “Can I- Can I please have a kiss?” 

“Of course!” You lean forward, giving him a sweet peck. Severus practically creams his pants at the feeling of your lips on his. Seeing his bright red face, you frown a bit, moving his hair out of his face, “Are you alright? Did I make you feel uncomfortable?” 

“No! No, it was nice,” A dreamy smile crosses his handsome features, as he leans in again, “Can I please have another one?” Smiling, you nod, smooching him softly once more. 

This, in turn, turns into a whole makeout session. You slide onto his lap, making it easier for you to reach his mouth. Your new seating arrangements allow you to feel his hard cock under your ass, a small smile quirking its way onto your lips, “Are you excited, Sevvy?” You hear a small whimper in response, causing you to giggle, “Do you want me to help you?”

“Please?” Instead of responding, you start to grind against his clothed cock. Your panty clad cunny is directly against his fly, your skirt just barely covering your ass. Grabbing his hands, you place them on your hips, their massive size making you feel secure. Severus whines at your grinding movement, hips bucking into your own. To silence him, you give him an open mouthed kiss, your tongue dominating his own. 

Drawing away from his mouth, there’s a long string of saliva connecting you both together. Using a manicured finger, you break it, and bring it to your mouth. Your tongue darts out, licking your shared spit off seductively, “Do you want me to fuck you, Sevvy? Wanna be inside of me?” 

“Yes! Yes, please!” You run a hand over his clothing clad chest, kissing him on the cheek. 

“Okay, Baby. Do you want me to suck your cock? Or do you wanna eat me out?” His hands grip at the fat of your hips, drool practically dripping from his gaping mouth. 

“Let me eat you, please,” Snape begs, bucking slightly into you. You cup his face with both hands and grin, pinching his cheeks teasingly. 

“Okie dokie, Sevvy. Lay back for me,” He drops back like a corpse, flopping haphazardly on your, surprisingly comfortable, mattress. Unzipping your uniform skirt, you slide it down your legs, tossing it on the other side of your bed. Your cute boyfriend gasps at the sight of your thong, never seeing one before. Chuckling at his shocked reaction, you quickly strip yourself of your blazer and dress shirt, exposing your lace bralette, “Do you like what you see?” 

His head practically snaps off his neck with how fast he nods, “You look so… so beautiful, (Your Name). I feel so lucky to see you this way,” A dark blush coats your (skin colour) cheeks, as you look away a bit shyly. 

“Thank you. Will you let me see you undressed?” He squeaks out a ‘yes,’ prompting you to practically rip off his slacks, dress shirt, and blazer. Only in his drawers, your heart jumps into your throat. His broad shoulder and lightly muscled abdomen look wonderfully full, and the very apparent bulge in his boxers make you lick your lips hungrily, “Are you ready to eat my pussy, Sev?”

“Yes, please sit on my face,” You gawk at his out-of-character words, but do as he asks. Slipping your panties off, you scoot forward, placing your bare cunny on his awaiting maw. He helps you settle on him by wrapping his arms around your (Size) thighs, relishing the feeling of your fat being squished between his forearm and bicep. 

Because he wrapped his arms over your legs, he is able to part your pussy lips, giving him easy access to your throbbing core. He gives an experimental lick to your slit, making your legs tremble. Now knowing that he’s doing something right, he dives in like  a man starved. His teeth lightly nip at your engorged clit, all whilst his tongue dips into your dripping hole. A squeal leaves your lips, signaling the pleasure you’re currently feeling. 

Gripping his head by his hair, you throw your head back in pleasure, “Ye-yes! You’re doing so well for me!” He keens at your praise, increasing the speed of his ministrations. Though you can tell that he’s a virgin, he’s exceeding your expectations by a long shot. Lightly grinding against his face, more moans and whimpers leave your throat, your entire body becoming rigid as your orgasm approaches. With one last well placed suck, you’re cumming into his open mouth. Your juices run down his chin and splash against his cheekbones, causing Snape’s heart to practically beat out of his chest. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Moving off of his face, you pat him on the head affectionately, “Did I do good?” He wipes some of your juices off of his mug, before slurping them down. 

“You were amazing, Sevvy. Have you done this before?” He shakes his head no, making you coo softly, “You’re a natural! Such a good boy.”

“Thank you, Mommy,” It’s like his entire body took a screenshot, with how still he became. He must have thought you’d be disgusted… but you aren’t. Instead, a small moan leaves your lips, before you bring him up into a hug. 

“My Baby Boy likes calling me Mommy? You’re so adorable,” You reach down to his cock, pulling him out with a tender touch. His tip is a dark pink, his precum dripping down his thick length. A large vein runs up the underside of his circumcised prick, and you can’t wait to sit on it, “Is it ok for Mommy to sit on your pretty cock, Sevvy?” You slip him between your cunny lips, grinding down on his length, and mixing your liquids together. 

“Ye-yes, Mommy! Please, please fuck me!” Taking him in one hand, you guide him to your opening, before pushing his tip inside teasingly. His whimper causes a gush of your slick to coat his length, helping you ease down him, until your pelvises touch. You can feel his dark, trimmed pubic hair rub against your cunny, making you squeeze down experimentally, “You-you’re so tight!” 

Smiling at him coyly, you reach behind you, and unclasp your bra, letting your perfect tits jiggle enticingly. You toss it aside, before grasping Severus’ hands, and guiding them to your breasts. He immediately squeezes, loving the feeling of them in his hands. You let out a small whimper, moving your hips in a circular motion, ultimately grinding him against your cervix. 

“Can I move, Pretty Boy?” Groans of pleasure rattle his chest, as you start to suck dark hickies onto his pristine skin. 

“Yes! Yes!” Giggling, you quickly lift your hips almost off of his cock, before slamming down harshly. Both of you groan in pleasure, signaling you to increase your pace. Moving at lightning speed, you start to bounce rapidly. Tits jiggling in the Slytherin boy’s hands, you bring him into a heated kiss. 

You swallow down his desperate whines, your hands pulling at his unkempt locks. Juices dripping down his cock, both of your thighs are quickly covered by your essence. His abdomen rubs against your clit with every bounce, bringing you closer and closer to your release. 

Breaking from the kiss, you suck on the skin of his throat, before speaking, “You’re so big, Sevvy. My pussy can barely handle how thick you are,” His hips meet yours, hitting your cervix harshly. A loud moan escapes you, “Fu-fuck! You’re so good for Mommy! Come on, Darling, meet my movement, and you can cum inside.”

At your words, he starts a breakneck pace, meeting your every movement with a mighty thrust. Your hands reach up to pinch his pretty, pink nipples, making him falter in his movements. 

“Mommy! Mommy-you feel so good! Please let me cum inside!” Increasing almost impossibly in speed, you feel yourself quickly hurtling over the edge. 

“Gu-go ahead! Mommy wants you to cum with her!” With one last sitting movement, the both of you orgasm harshly. Your back arches almost painfully, as you feel him fill you to the brim with thick, hot cum. Your own juices squirt out, coating the both of you in a sheen of white sperm and a glossy cunny juice. 

Severus face plants into your chest, practically drowning in your perfect teats. Whilst catching your breath, you run your hands through his hair, loving how silky the strands are. 

“You did well, Sevvy. You were so good for me,” You fully embrace him, as he buries his head further into your plush chest. 

“Th-thank you, Mommy, I’m glad I was good enough for you,” Bringing his face up to your level (wish is relatively hard, because he’s tall), you smile sweetly at him. 

“You’re always enough for me,” Kissing him on the forehead, you cuddle into him for a while longer. 

While you’re content and happy, Severus is over the moon. 

The girl he’d pined over for years is finally within his grasp! He’d have to write this moment down the moment he gets to his dorm! 

He’s just one step closer to stealing her away the moment they graduate. Hopefully, you’ll still be the homemaker he knows you’re meant to be, even if you’re a bit angry at him at first. 

Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he knows that you’re the only one for him. Hopefully, you think the same, too.

#yandere snape #yandere severus #severus snape #yandere harry potter #harry potter x reader #snape x you #snape x reader #yandere male x female reader #tw mommy kink

[anne-i-write]

sweet love

| who would have known that the local bakery could get sebastian to show his soft spot |

sebastian moran x reader

word count: 3609

tw: sexual implications but no actual spice (mostly from sebastian’s “flirting”)

a/n: a little new years gift from me to all of you! i’m sorry it took so long to get another post up but i enjoyed writing this one! hopefully sebastian isn’t too ooc in this idk ig i just have a thing for making characters ooc but it’s very sweet and possibly tooth rotting. i also realize that i got carried away making this one and now you can read through my brain rot lol. ALSO APPARENTLY HES 6’6 THE MAN COULD ABSOLUTELY PUNT ME WHAT anyhow, i hope you all enjoy!! p.s. if you see grammatical errors and incoherent sentences, i just copy pasted from google docs lmao good luck

Sebastian grumbled under his breath, annoyed with the work that William had him do.

“‘Those who do not work in this house aren’t treated as people.’” Sebastian scoffed as he glanced over at the list. “Louis should be glad I’m on good terms with William.”

The ex-colonel should’ve been back at the estate an hour ago but he felt somewhat spiteful and decided to stay out longer. He had finished everything he needed but he had no clue what to do. It was already lunch and his stomach was silently growling but he refused to face the brothers just yet.

That was until he stopped in front of a quaint bakery with the words Fox’s Biscuits painted on a hanging sign.

“Isn’t this…” He looked at the bakery window, mouthwatering biscuits on display for everyone to see.

“These are the biscuits Father bought for me when I was younger.”

Longing for a sense of his childhood, Sebastian walked into the small shop.

In an instant, the sickly sweet smell of chocolate hit his nose and the bell above the door rang out. It was a small space but one could feel the dedication put into the little treats. “Hello?” Sebastian called out as soon as he realized he had been alone for at least two minutes.

“Just a moment!”

Crashes and clangs could be heard from behind a door that presumably led to a kitchen. You burst through the door, your apron stained with chocolate and your right cheek was covered in a light dust of flour.

Sebastian stared at you with wide eyes, not sure if he should focus on the disorderly ruin that was yourself or the absolute charm that you carried. “You have a little something—” He pointed to his cheek and your cute eyes widened a smidge.

You frantically turned around, swiping at both cheeks and turning around when you felt like you were clean. “How may I help you today?”

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat when you smiled widely, his cheeks feeling a little flush. He shook his head.

“Those biscuits by the door; how much are they?” You took a step to the side to see which one he was talking about. “Oh, it’s 10 shillings for each one.” You informed him, walking to the stacked treats with a cloth in hand. “How many would you like?”

A sly grin painted Sebastian’s features and he turned to face you. “3 pieces please.” You barely picked up the second biscuit before you felt a presence looming behind you. “Perhaps, I can have you too if I pay extra.” He whispered in your ear.

Heat spread across your face as you quickly shoved the rest of the biscuits in the small bag. You shoved the biscuits his way and held out your other hand expectantly. “Th-That’s 30 shillings!” You cursed the way you stuttered.

Sebastian laughed at your flustered state as he handed you the payment. He shot you a teasing glance.

“I can’t bake very well but I can show you how good I am with my hands.” Your eyes widened again at the implication and you shoved him towards the exit.

“Thank you for coming to our bakery!” You breathed out a sigh of relief. One patron down… only many more to come.

The ex-colonel swung the bag leisurely as he strode into the manor, forgetting about lunch. “Where were you, Sebastian?” Louis asked as soon as he opened the door.

“Getting myself food.”

The bell rang in your little family shop and you smiled, heading out to greet the next customer with freshly baked biscuits in hand.

“Good afternoon–” Your smile dropped when you realized who came into the bakery.

“What’s with the frown, sweetheart?” Sebastian cooed and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Did you not wish I would come back?”

“I wish you never came at all.” The man stilled for a moment but laughed when you walked past him to restock the display case. “You were here yesterday, were you not?” He turned to see you carefully placing the treats on the platter. “Yes but I’m here to buy more of those delicious biscuits you sell.”

Sebastian stalked closer to you just as you spun around to point the tray in his face. “Personal space, please.” He raised his hands in resignation and backed up. You walked back to the counter to place the warm tray on top. “You weren’t complaining yesterday.”

“I didn’t expect yesterday. Now, how many biscuits would you like?” Before he opened his mouth, you continued. “And buy enough so I don’t have to see you again.”

Sebastian laughed again, enjoying your quips. “You seem very spirited today, m’love.” You rolled your eyes. “Either you buy something or you can get out of the shop.” The man walked towards you but you stood your ground this time, arms crossed.

“Your biscuits are delicious but I bet you taste even better.” Your face heated up and Sebastian grinned. “Th-The way out is right behind you.”

Why do I always stutter?

“You’re adorable when you get shy on me.” You shot him a pointed glare and he chuckled. “I’ll have the whole display.” Sebastian thoroughly enjoyed the way your shy attitude appeared when he spoke.

“Th-The whole—” Sebastian chuckled and leaned on a nearby wall. “Yes, sweetheart; the whole case.” Of course, you needed the money but could the man even afford it?

“Th-That’s 100 shillings.” Sebastian took another glance at the display and shook his head. “Come now sweetheart, all of that is at least 600 shillings.” You shook your head.

“600 shillings is too much!” The thought of even getting mad at his previous words flew out of your head as he insisted on paying the full price. “Please, I’ll lower the price.”

Sebastian smiled as he reached into his coat and pulled out a satchel of coins. “It must have taken a painstakingly long time to make all those biscuits, it’s only right I pay you in full.” He placed the bag on the counter and you slid it back towards him. “I don’t have time to count 100 shillings! Please, that would be more than enough.”

This continued on for another ten minutes before he finally got you to settle on paying half of the original price.

“Enjoy your biscuits!” You called out to him just as the door barely closed behind him. Thankfully the door had a large glass pane and he turned around, offering a small wave before walking off.

You watched as he left the front of the shop and your eyes drifted to the empty display case.

“What in God’s name happened.”

Sebastian was aware that the last time he saw you was the other day, but he did comprehend that coming back the day after buying 60 biscuits would look rather odd. Telling Louis he had to run an errand in the town, the ex-colonel set off to your little bakery. Considering how empty it was the last two times he saw you, Sebastian expected it to be the same.

What he didn’t expect was a large crowd that seemed too big to be inside of the bakery.

Sebastian carefully opened the door and was greeted with the bustling sound of people chatting as they waited for their treats. Being the tall man he was, he searched for you in the crowd until he saw you rush out of the kitchen with your hair a complete mess.

“Thank you for being so patient, have a great day!” You said breathlessly and the patron nodded, wishing you well before leaving. They passed by Sebastian and he watched as they left the shop. He turned his attention back to you, who wore the same smile that made his heart stutter as you helped the next customer.

God only knows how long Sebastian was in the shop but the last customer left and you slumped against the counter. “Is that how you hold yourself in front of your patrons?” You groaned and he laughed.

“You bought 60 biscuits the other day and I still have to make the next batch, why are you back?” You glanced up at him and he shrugged. “Can I not wait for the biscuits?” You kept staring at him and he shot you a questioning glance.

“I can give you an estimated time for when the biscuits are done.” You yawned as you stood up and stretched. “I saw you come in a while ago, do you not have anywhere to be?”

Sebastian leaned against the counter and sighed. “Not today.”

Not having the energy to make him leave, you simply walked back into the kitchen and he watched as the door swung behind you.

It had been three minutes since you disappeared behind the doors and Sebastian was about to leave before you emerged from the kitchen. “If you’re staying until I make the next batch, then I want you to try this.” You said as you place down a small plate with two chocolate covered biscuits. “My father doesn’t know about these so I want to see if these taste good.” He took a glance at the plate and looked up at you.

“You couldn’t try them yourselves?” He asked as you stood across from him, arms folded. “I’d be favored to like them because I made them.” A beat of silence passed as you stared at each other.

“They’re not poisoned, if that’s what you’re worried about.” An impressed look crossed Sebastian’s face as he picked up the biscuit and ate it. You watched closely as the man in front of you chewed your creation. “Is that jam and cream?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s indecent.” Sebastian snorted as he took another bite. “You sound like my mum.” You smiled softly as he started to reach for the second one.

“Keep staring like that, I might have to eat something else.” He said as he winked at you.

“Y-You—!”

Sebastian’s visits became routine and each time he came in, your day got a little better. You scoffed. Like you would ever tell him that.

“Darling!” Sebastian called out as he opened the door. “You know, I don’t even know your name and you’ve been coming here for two weeks.” You stated as you cleaned down the counter.

“Aw, you want to put a name to a face so you can moan it tonight?” He cooed and you slammed your towel down, flustered. “O-One day without suggesting those things! I-Is that too much to ask?” Sebastian laughed and you went back to furiously wiping down the counter.

He smiled as he walked towards you and placed his hand on yours. “If you keep scrubbing like that, the wood will wear down.” You sighed and relaxed your grip on the washing cloth. “Your hands are warm.” You said and he chuckled.

“The cloth’s gone cold.” He pointed out and you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t realize.” Sebastian snorted and took the cloth out of your hands. “Here.” He took both of your hands and held them in his, breathing out slowly on them. He looked at you, taking note of the dark circles under your eyes.

If you were working yourself that much, he would make you take this short break to relax.

You looked up at your hands and suddenly felt shy at the intimate contact. “(Y/N),” you muttered, looking away.

Sebastian glanced up at you and huffed softly. “Sebastian.” You continued to let him warm up your hands.

A serene silence fell over the two of you as he exhaled softly on your hands.

That was until your sister barged into the shop, back from the market. “(Y/N)!” All three of you paused as you stared at each other. You watched as your sister’s eyes traveled from yours to your intertwined hands and you instantly flared up.

“I was just handing him biscuits!” You yelped, yanking your hands out of Sebastian’s. You looked at him and nodded your head towards the exit. “Thank you so much for coming!” Sebastian grinned and he leaned in closer to you. “I’ll come back for you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

He knew he said this loud enough for you sister to hear. “Good day!” He smiled innocently, nodding to the girl by the door and walked out.

You watched as he left, not noticing your sister walking up and taking her place next to you. She watched with you as Sebastian walked away and took note of the subtle starry gaze in your eyes.

“Now I understand why you always want to watch the shop.”

You fidgeted as Sebastian walked into the shop once again. What was this? His 40th time at the shop? You shook your head. It didn’t matter.

I will ask him!

“What’s troubling you, sweetheart?” Even through the teasing tone, you could hear some worry and you just decided to spit it out.

“Would you like to accompany me to the moorish dance tonight?” Sebastian’s eyes widened as you stared up at him with unintentionally large eyes. The man knew he had a persona to hold in front of you but felt himself failing as he struggled to fight the blush rising on his cheeks.

“Only if you’ll accompany me to my bed tonight.” He watched as your eyes narrowed and you puffed out your chest, crossing your arms. “Forget I asked.” He laughed as you turned away from him. “I’m just playing around!” You stuck your tongue out childishly and turned away again.

“You’re pouting!”

“No I’m not!”

You two continued to bicker until he apologized, albeit through laughs. “I’m serious though, Sebastian.” He looked at you with a fond smile and he exhaled.

“I’d be honored.” You turned to face him with the same smile you used when you first greeted him, except this time it was wider and you looked like you were about to bounce over the counter. “But I really thought I would be the first to ask you.”

“Let customs lay themselves to rest for a bit, Sebastian.”

The dance was some time later at night so you decided to close shop early and walk around the town with Sebastian.

He had never seen you so talkative before and it was very interesting to see you speak without having to put him in his place every five minutes.

“So, do you and your sister run the bakery by yourselves?” Sebastian asked as you walked down the bustling road. “Lately. My father had been overworking himself so my sister and I decided to take over for him.” You smiled as a girl ran past your legs, her little brother following shortly after.

He watched on with a fond look as you continued talking about the bakery and all the baking mishaps that made you the person you were today. “That sounds like it requires a lot of effort.” You chuckled as you reached a secluded tree, not too far from the town but enough to be alone.

“It does, but the son of my father’s friend likes to help from time to time.” The sound of a possible competitor peaked his interest and sat down beside you on the grass. “The son of your father’s friend?” You nodded as you stared at the town and leaned on the tree.

“He’s a wonderful boy, very enthusiastic about helping me and my sister.” You turned to face him with an excited expression. “Oh, I’ll introduce you at the dance later! He’s helping the men set up but we should be able to see him!” The alpha male in Sebastian refused to let himself lose the one good thing he could possibly have in his life.

“You hid the whole jar?”

“Mrs. Pettor makes the best jams! I wasn’t going to let my family finish it!” Sebastian laughed as you defended yourself.

It was almost time for the dance and you both were walking to the town center.

“I’ve been talking all this time.” You realized and you turned to Sebastian. “Tell me more about—” You cut yourself off with a squeak as you were lifted off of your feet.

Sebastian watched as a blonde boy swung you around. “A-Alexander!” The boy put you down, a grin on his face.

The blond boy looked at you and you smiled back before Sebastian cleared his throat. “Oh, right!” You turned to face Sebastian and grinned. “Alexander, this is Sebastian! Sebastian, Alexander!” The shorter man held out his hand, blue eyes instantly hardening.

“Hello Sebastian,” Alexander said as Sebastian shook his hand. “Alexander.” You looked between the two and felt a tense aura emanating from them before you clapped your hands.

“Shall we go to the dance?” Alexander let go of Sebastian’s hand and immediately faced you. “Of course!” The blond grabbed your hand and you were barely able to get ahold of Sebastian’s before Alexander took off running.

Cheers and music filled the air and the sound of shoes hitting stone echoed throughout the streets. Despite knowing most of the faces, you spent most of your time talking with Sebastian about stories from each of your lives.

“(Y/N)!” You turned your head and saw Alexander heading towards you, out of breath and sweaty from dancing. You excused yourself from the conversation and Alexander stopped in front of you. “I never did thank you for working more than you should have these last few days.” You laughed as you waved him off. “It’s nothing you should thank me for, Alexander. My sister helped so it wasn’t all bad.”

Alexander took a glance at Sebastian, who had been mobbed by most of the town women and looked like he was trying to hold his own. “Would you like to dance?” His question caught you off guard. “I invited Sebastian, I couldn’t leave him…” You turned to see a group of girls crowding around the man and your smile faltered. “One dance wouldn’t hurt.”

“Sebastian!” He looked up from the group of girls and saw you waving. He was about to move until he saw your hand in Alexander’s. “I’m going to dance for a bit!” You laughed as Alexander pulled you to the dance area. Alexander chuckled at you as you told Sebastian of your whereabouts. At least you had the decency to tell him you were dancing with another man.

“So how’d you meet Sebastian?” Alexander asked as you danced to the music. “He came into the shop one day and just kept visiting!” You smiled and the boy in front of you exhaled softly, deciding to drop the topic and talk to your sister about it later.

The former colonel no longer focused on the girls in front of him as he watched you laugh hard at something Alexander said and his heart beat faster in his chest. Out of jealousy or awe, he couldn’t tell. But the way your eyes shone under the golden glow of the street lamps told him to move and get you.

He pushed his way through the crowd of ladies and kept his eyes trained on your carefree figure. Your skin looked so beautiful under this light, maybe you were the one who lit up the town. Your smile alone had enough energy to do so anyway.

“May I have a dance with (Y/N)?” Sebastian asked as he reached you and Alexander. The blond man smiled and your eyes sparkled in delight. “Of course.” Alexander gently let go of your hand and placed it in Sebastian’s.

“Thank you Alexander!” You called out and he turned around, sending you a soft smile and a small wave before walking towards your sister.

You turned your gaze back to Sebastian and you grinned. “Did you get jealous?” Sebastian scoffed before shaking his head. “I don’t get jealous.” You laughed as you felt Sebastian pull you closer. “I saw you looking at Alexander like he was going to steal me away.” You pointed out with a smug smile.

“He did steal you away.” You grinned at him.

“You’re pouting.”

“N-No I’m not!” You laughed and watched as the tips of his ears turned pink. “Aw, you’re adorable when you get shy on me!” You cooed, using the exact same words he said to you a while back.

“You—” He picked you up by the waist and you squealed as he lifted you up. “You think you’re so smart.” He muttered as he placed you back down and you looked up at him, your skin shining from sweat and short breaths leaving your lips.

He instantly leaned in, placing a short kiss on your lips and your eyes widened before trying to chase him before he pulled away. “You do taste better than your biscuits.” You buried your head in Sebastian’s chest in embarrassment and he laughed as he started to lead the dance once more.

“Because of that, I’m charging you the rest of the 60 biscuits you bought.” Sebastian feigned hurt. “But that’s too much!” You rolled your eyes and smiled up at him. “I’m sure if you don’t want to pay, Louis can help me find something for you to do to pay me back.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed and you giggled at the sour look on his face. “I’m sure you can help around the shop to pay them off, if you don’t want Louis to get involved.” His eyes softened before gently grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss to it.

“If it means I get to see you everyday, it will have been worth it.”

tags: @zoehanji @infinitebells

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #sebastian moran x reader #sebastian moran

[ceciliablossoms]

Not to be a simp or anything but please make the modern xiao thing real

Aight anon I got you 💞

I was kinda inspired by xiaoven art by ichidice when I made that headcanon I'm not gonna lie. It was super cute!

And as a fellow Xiao simp, I love the thought of him being a tattoo artist, especially as someone who has several tattoos and is planning to get several more.

This is probably really OOC

-------

It was around noon when the bell dinged softly, signalling that the door opened. It had been slow, they could tell by how empty the building was. It was no surprise, however, as the business had only opened its doors for the first time the day prior.

In their hand, they held a sheet of paper, a flyer for the small parlour they had just entered that they had received from a friend.

It was nice compared to the other tattoo parlours they'd been in. The floor was dark, finely polished hardwood. No chipped tile or linoleum to be seen. The art displays were framed and neatly hung next to one another instead of being haphazardly tacked to the wall. The paint was a nice creme colour and the shelves were full of inks and small trinkets. The waiting area was adorned with black couches and a coffee table, and the work stations were spaced several feet apart.

A speaker in the corner was playing music at such a low volume that they couldn't tell what genre it was. They scanned the building until a young man ridding himself of a thin jacket came out of the backroom. He greeted them, walking up to a glass counter full of shelves of piercings. They returned the greeting and joined him at the counter.

After a small conversation, they pull a folded sheet of paper out of their satchel and handed it to him. On it was a heavily detailed design for a full sleeve. He scanned it for a bit before shifting his eyes to their arms then back again, handing them the usual waiver to fill out and sign.

He went to the back and took some time to put the sheet into the thermal-fax to make a stencil. Once he returned, he guided them to the tattoo chair and put on gloves, cleaned his station and got his supplies. He noted that they had already shaved their arm and moved on to stencil placement, placing it where they deemed perfect.

Since it was a full sleeve he knew that'd it was going to take a while. He didn't say much for the first hour or two and neither did they. During the silence, they tried focusing on the music, but after the pain became a little much they tried to make small talk as a distraction.

He noticed their discomfort and took the needle away and shifted his eyes to theirs, "If you're uncomfortable we can continue this later. I'm surprised you've held yourself this well this long anyway."

They stretched their arm out a little, "I would like that... It's not my first tattoo but I've never gotten one this big, I was a little underprepared."

He let out a short breath from his nose in amusement as he set down his tattoo gun and rolled his shoulders. He stood and stretched before cleaning up his station.

"Since it's a sleeve, it's going to take several days to complete. I'm gonna have you pay hourly per session." He glanced up at them and stared as they nodded.

"Thank you....." They trailed off with a grin holding out your hand, as to ask his name and shake his hand.

"Xiao." He replies curtly, removing his gloves and hesitantly gripping their hand. They gave him a firm handshake.

"Thank you, Xiao."

--

The bell dinged softly, as they pushed to door open. It was their sixth session and it was time to apply the last of the colour. The lining and small details had been finished the day before. They greeted Xiao with a smile and sat in their normal spot on the tattoo chair. They swung their legs as he got his materials ready.

The air had grown comfortable and Xiao was a little more talkative now that he had grown somewhat more comfortable. He responded with more than nods and hums and even occasionally added statements or askes questions of his own. They were fine with doing most of the talking (after all it was a distraction) and he was fine with doing most of the listening.

They had been rambling about random things, asking him questions here and there. He glanced up at them when they suddenly went quiet. They looked to be in deep thought and he stared at them, removing the tattoo gun from their skin. The sudden lack of stinging caused them to look over at him. He jumped, immediately looking away, going back to what he was doing, muttering under his breath.

They chuckled. "You're cute y'know that?"

They both tensed. Xiao's face reddened as he removed the gun again, staring at their skin in shock. They began to stammer, spitting out apologies and excused. He took a deep breath.

"So are you." After that, the rest of the session was quiet, and he finished adding the colour as if nothing had happened.

"This session was 4 and a half hours so 450, yeah?" They asked grabbing their cheque book and peeking up at him. He nodded as they wrote it out looking away from them again. They set the check on the counter and he handed them a sheet with all the steps to take for aftercare. They smiled and turned to leave.

He couldn't do it anymore. "Wait," His voice was quiet, "Your design was very.... detailed. If you want a job, you know where to find me."

They grinned, hand on the door handle. "Thanks, Xiao." They stopped for a moment, taking out a pen from their satchel. He was surprised when they turned and walked back to the counter, asking him to hold out his arm. He did so with hesitancy, only for them to grab his wrist and write down a number. "You mentioned that you almond tofu. I know a place if you wanna get lunch some time."

Frozen in place, he still stared at the door long after they had gone. His eyes shifted to his wrist, then to the clock. It was almost lunchtime. He silently grabbed his coat and switched off the open sign, locking the door behind him. Typing the number into his cell phone, he wondered if he could catch up to them.

#mine #anon #genshin x reader #genshin impact #xiao #xiao x reader #genshin xiao #genshin impact x reader #tattoo artist AU #genshin impact AU #modern au #x reader #drabble